Tegan's Magic

I hold in my need to snicker at Finn’s name for a woman’s private parts. How on earth does he manage to make me feel like laughing when I was all but hating myself? If I lost him as a friend over sleeping with Ethan I’d be devastated. “It was just one of those slip ups. To be honest I don’t think I want to be with anybody, romantically that is. That way I can avoid feeling like such a shithead.”

  “We all have to be shitheads from time to time,” Finn chuckles, but there’s a sadness in his eyes – sadness and disappointment. He turns from me now to look over at the RV, swiftly changing the subject for fear he’ll show me the emotions that are bubbling up inside him. It’s selfish, but I’m glad of this.

  “If you didn’t stay with Rita last night, that means nobody did. Alvie spent the night with Gabriel. I hope she’s okay.”

  He walks toward the motor home and raps lightly on the door with his knuckles.

  “Rita, you in there?” he calls. There’s no answer, and when he goes to try and open the door it won’t budge.

  “She never locks it,” I say. “Not unless she’s going out and she hasn’t been out since Noreen’s funeral.”

  “Maybe she decided today was the day to stretch her legs,” says Finn, pulling harder on the door handle. This time a little bolt of purple electricity slithers over the metal and shocks his hand. “What the hell?” he says, staring at the handle in confusion.

  “I think she’s put a spell on it to keep everyone out,” I tell him.

  “Jesus, did she get that idea from Emilia or something? And why would she want to keep everyone out?”

  “Well, she practically bit my head off yesterday when I tried to hold a conversation with her, and basically told me to get the fuck out of the RV.”

  “She did what? I thought she was getting better after the Empath worked on her.”

  “So did I. Apparently the effect was only temporary.”

  “This isn’t on. She can’t just keep herself locked up in there; it’s not good for her. We need to get her out.” He stands back and puts his hands around his mouth, before bellowing, “Rita! Get your skinny arse out here now and undo whatever spell you’ve cast.”

  At this my eyes are drawn to one of the windows, through which I can see Rita standing in the kitchen, making a cup of tea and completely ignoring us.

  I walk up and knock on the glass. “I can see you in there. Please let us in. We only want to help.”

  Her back is to me. She turns her head ever so slightly, but then returns to making her tea, pretending not to have heard me at all. Her coldness makes me shiver a little.

  Glancing at Finn, I suggest, “Maybe we should just leave her for a while. I’m sure she’ll come around.”

  He watches her through the window with narrowed eyes. “Yeah, maybe.”

  We don’t say it, but it’s clear that we both have our doubts about Rita coming around at all.

  Later that day, while I’m doing something as mundane as taking care of my dirty laundry, the absolutely extraordinary occurs. As I’m standing by the washing machine, sorting my whites from my coloureds, (or in my case my whites from my blacks and very few coloureds) a little speck of golden light buzzes in my face and flits around me like an annoying wasp.

  I swipe at it, but it continues flitting around my head, growing in size. One second it’s the size of a pea and the next it’s a golf ball, another second it’s a football and another it’s a hula hoop. It fizzles and crackles, sputtering actual physical sparks like you’d see come off of a bonfire.

  I back up against the washing machine, my hands braced against it and my heart pounding. My heart rate increases further when a blue foot sticks out of the golden circle, followed swiftly by a blue leg. That’s when I recognise Edwards in his demon form and a huge smile lifts my features. He made it back! He falls to the floor with a sizzling thud, and then another body emerges, a human one, thudding to the floor right after him.

  My dad’s skin is blistered from head to toe, and his hair is all patchy, like parts of it have been singed off. Emotion floods through me at seeing him like this. He lies on the floor, unconscious but breathing. I’m distracted from staring at his horrendous state by Edwards coughing loudly, “A glass of water, please, if it’s not too much trouble.”

  Wide-eyed, I go and pour him a glass, handing it down to him. Then I go and crouch before my dad, who groans when I touch his burned skin but doesn’t wake up.

  “Is he going to be okay?” I ask desperately, tears clogging my eyes as I turn to Edwards.

  “Human skin is not made to withstand the atmosphere in hell. That’s another of the reasons why I changed into my demon form before venturing there.” He hands me the glass of water and I refill it before handing it back. He downs it in one long gulp and I get him another.

  I really want to comfort my dad in some way, but every time I try to touch him his entire body shakes as though in pain. I sit on the floor beside Edwards instead. “I almost lost hope that you’d be back. What took you so long?”

  “The dimension didn’t want to let your father go. He had taken the place of a sorcerer, a very powerful player indeed, and it was angry at the unequal exchange. A human for a sorcerer is not a fair swap. I had to take my time in order to rescue Martin and leave a cat in his place, which is an even more unequal exchange. When the dimension realises your father is gone it won’t be happy.”

  I get a chill from the way he describes hell as this living, breathing entity with conscious thought.

  “So how long were you actually over there, if time doesn’t move the same as it does here?”

  “Months,” he answers. “It was tough, but I truly had a ball of a time.”

  I raise a brow at this strange little fellow. “I think your version of a good time is a lot different from mine.”

  Edwards chuckles. “I’m half demon, dear, of course it is. We demons delight in mayhem.”

  My dad chokes out a strangled cough and I rush to his side again. I try not to let the tears flow when I ask, “Is he going to recover?”

  A wary expression comes over Edwards’ features. “Nobody recovers fully from what he’s been through, but with my help he can come close.”

  He gets to his feet and I suddenly realise that his blue self is still naked. “Now, could you bring me my suitcase?”

  His suitcase? Damn, I think it’s still in Ethan’s car. “Um, I’ll go get it for you. Is there anything else you need?”

  “Yes, a clean room with a bed for your father. I may have retrieved him, but he’s far from being out of the woods yet. I have medicines and ointments in my suitcase that will assist in his healing.”

  At this, Finn, Ira and Delilah walk into the kitchen. Seeing me standing there with a little naked, blue skinned man at my side and my equally naked, completely burned father lying on the floor, Finn exclaims, “For the love of God! What’s happened?”

  He has his hand half covering his eyes, like he doesn’t want to see Edwards’ nakedness, but is morbidly intrigued all the same.

  Edwards steps forward with a smile, entirely unashamed of his naked form, like those Naturists you see on tv. “E.J. Edwards, at your service. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  Finn stares at him, bug-eyed. “Uh, the pleasure’s all mine?” he says, high pitched. It comes out sounding like a question. Ira and Delilah grin at Finn’s startled expression. Unlike Finn, they’ve clearly encountered their share of demons in the past.

  Delilah leaves to retrieve Edwards’ suitcase from Ethan’s car and I escort the little demon up to my room, while Finn and Ira carry my dad to the bed as carefully as they can manage. We don’t bother putting any clothes on him, because it would only irritate the blisters. Instead I find a soft cotton sheet and lay it over him.

  Emotion catches in my throat as I again study how badly burned he is.

  Delilah walks into the room, carrying Edwards’ suitcase. Miraculously, he still has his leather satchel intact. Remembering how he said sugars aid him in his change f
rom human to demon and vice versa, I run downstairs and grab him a coke from the fridge. He smiles at me gratefully as I hand it to him, swallowing it down in a few quick gulps. He gathers some clothes as his body changes, his blue skin turning back to its human shade and his tuft of grey hair returning.

  He dresses quickly and efficiently, and I’m more than surprised at how able bodied he is, given his age and the fact he just spent the equivalent of months in a hell dimension.

  Next he pulls several corked glass bottles from his suitcase, all containing blue and green coloured mystery liquids.

  He glances at me. “Before I begin, could you please return my token to me?”

  “Oh yeah, of course,” I reply, pulling out the small coin and placing it in his outstretched hand.

  He squeezes his eyes shut and beams with pursed lips as he clutches his token, doing a little sway of happiness. I have to say, it’s extremely cute.

  “It’s so good to have my token back,” he sighs and slips it inside his pocket for safekeeping.

  He pulls the sheet from my dad’s body and pops open one of the bottles, before pouring what looks like green paint over his skin. He rolls up his sleeves and begins rubbing it in. You know your life has taken a turn for the surreal when you find yourself standing in a room while a half demon is massaging your father with green paint. However, there’s no doubt this isn’t paint. It solidifies into a skin-like substance, sort of like a face mask.

  “What is that stuff?” I ask.

  “A demonic healing lotion. It will extract all of the evil from your father’s pores. I know it simply looks like he’s been burned, and he has been, but that’s not the whole case. The blisters are a symptom of the infestation.”

  “Infestation?” I squeak.

  “That’s right. Any human who spends time in hell becomes infected by its atmosphere. As I mentioned before, human constitutions are not made to survive there, in any alternate dimension in fact.” Edwards turns to Finn and Ira. “Boys, you wouldn’t mind turning him over for me, would you?”

  They both do as he asks, rolling my dad over onto his front. I choke down the urge to gasp in horror when I see his back, because branded into his skin are the numbers 666.

  “Jesus H. Christ,” Finn swears, taking in the sight before him.

  Edwards picks up another bottle, this one with blue liquid, and pours it directly onto the numbers. “Those appear more sinister than they are,” he explains. “When the dimension cottoned on to the fact that I was trying to take your father home, it marked him to make things harder for me.”

  “How would that make things harder?” Finn asks.

  “Imagine it like an infernal tracking device. With the mark on him, Martin couldn’t be moved without the dimension knowing about it.”

  “So how did you manage to move him then?” I put in.

  “Ah, now that would be telling. All of us demons have our tricks.” He taps the side of his nose.

  The blue liquid sizzles into the numbers and they disappear. “You see,” says Edwards. “Easily reversed.” He pauses and frowns. “It’s saving his mind that’s going to be the hard part. Tegan, this might be difficult for you to hear, seen as you’ve only just had him returned to you, but I may need to bring Martin to England with me for a time. If I can’t heal his mind here then I’ll need better resources, and I only have those kinds of things back at my home.”

  I absorb this information and steel myself. I don’t want Edwards taking my dad all the way to England, but if it means he’ll get better then I’m all for it. “Whatever it takes,” I say to him.

  “Very good. Could you have his passport ready for me, just in case?”

  I shake my head. “I don’t know where any of his things are. He sold our house before all of this happened. I have no clue where he was living before he got taken for the ritual.”

  “I can help you out with that,” Finn pipes in. “I know a fella who knows a fella. I’ll get a new passport sorted for you.”

  I smile at him in thanks, even though I know I don’t deserve his help. I hate it when people are too nice for their own good, because it always makes me feel like a user.

  We all watch in silence as Edwards finishes smearing various kinds of liquids over my dad. I bring him a towel to wipe his hands off with once he’s done. I cover my dad’s body again with the thin sheet. His breathing is deep now, as the healing lotions work their way through his system.

  “Tegan, would it be too much trouble for you to arrange a place for me to stay tonight? If there’s no room I can find a hotel, but I am very tired.”

  “Are you serious? It’s no trouble at all. After everything you’ve done for me I should be putting you up in a golden palace. We don’t have any free rooms here, but do you remember my vampire friend, Ethan?”

  “Cristescu, I do indeed,” says Edwards with a nod.

  “Well he happens to have a spare bedroom going, and he lives just across the street. I’m sure he won’t mind putting you up.”

  Edwards seems delighted with this and we pack up his things, before Delilah and I escort him over to Ethan’s. I’m glad Delilah’s around to let us into the house, because I’m a little embarrassed to see Ethan. Just thinking about what happened last night makes me blush.

  Thankfully, Lucas is the one to answer the door. Delilah flounces in by him, showing Edwards to the spare bedroom. I stand in the hallway as Lucas regards me with a smirk.

  “What?” I narrow my eyes at him.

  “Ethan was looking for you.”

  “Was he now,” I glance away, leaning my hand against the staircase.

  “Yep. I heard you gave him a, eh, haircut.”

  Scowling, I ignore him and walk into the living area. God, do those two tell each other everything?

  I’ve never had the chance to have a look around the place before. All of the furniture is brand spanking new and unused. It reminds me of how Ethan was pushed out of his home before he even had the chance to collect his belongings.

  When I turn around the vampire himself is standing in the doorway, watching me. He comes at me like a panther, all smooth muscles and potential for danger.

  Wrapping his arms around my waist, he kisses me on the neck, right where my pulse is currently pounding. “I hear congratulations are in order. Edwards brought your dad home. We should celebrate,” he whispers into my skin.

  “You haven’t seen my dad. If you had you wouldn’t be much in the mood for celebrating.”

  “He’ll get better.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  He slips his hand beneath my top to brush against my skin. “I didn’t get quite enough time with you last night,” he says into my ear, all husky.

  “Yeah about that,” I pause, turning in his arms so that I can look him in the eye. “It can’t happen again, at least not for a while. I need to focus on my dad. Not to mention Rita’s acting weird and Emilia’s got Rebecca.”

  “Emilia?” Ethan frowns. I’d forgotten I hadn’t told him about my newly discovered grandmother. I thought Delilah would have filled him in.

  “She’s a witch, a powerful one. She’s also my grandmother. It’s a long story. Basically she was helping me with a spell for Rebecca, but then she decided she liked the little girl so much that she wanted to keep her. She has some issues because my mother ran away from home when she was a teenager, never to be seen again. Once the spell was completed, she took off with Rebecca and now has herself barricaded into her house with a spell so that Pamphrock can’t get in and take his daughter back.”

  Ethan regards me seriously, then grins. “That’s quite a mouthful, and quite the predicament.”

  “It’s all my fault too. I was the one who agreed to let her help me. There are slayers surrounding Emila’s home day and night, but I’m thinking of going down there to see if I can talk some sense into her.”

  “Insanity in women, particularly in mothers who have lost their children, can be a very delicate matter. Are you sure
you talking to her will make a difference?”

  At this I remember what Ethan revealed to me last night about losing his dhamphir children. He’s likely had first-hand experience with grieving mothers. It’s odd to think that Emilia could still be grieving after all this time, but I guess the open ended way in which my mother disappeared meant she could never really get closure.

  “What do you suggest I do?” I ask, needing his insight.

  “If she has spelled herself into her house then there isn’t much you can do. I doubt she will try to harm the girl, but since you are her granddaughter maybe you could let her know that you’re available to have a relationship with her. That way keeping Rebecca won’t seem so vital any longer.”

  I make a noise of disagreement. “I’m not sure that will work. She wasn’t very taken with me to be honest. She was smitten with Rebecca because she was all dainty and innocent. I think I was a little too rough around the edges for her taste.”

  Ethan brings his hands up to my neck, rubbing his thumbs affectionately across my sensitive skin. “I happen to like your rough edges,” he breathes.

  I’m too mesmerised by his eyes to pull back, but I still try to remind him of what I said before. “I mean it Ethan, this is no time for romantic entanglements. You and Finn already hate one another. I’m staying away from both of you to keep the peace.”

  “Why should the slayer factor into it?”

  “Because he’s my friend and he has feelings for me. He caught me coming home from your place this morning and he’s pretending he’s not bothered, but I can tell it hurt him. I don’t want to cause any more pain for anyone. I just want to set things right.”

  “And what about me? You have hurt me intrinsically, and you will hurt me further by keeping me at a distance.”

  “Don’t guilt trip me,” I whisper, shuddering as he increases the pressure of his thumbs.

  “I’m stating facts, that’s all.”

  “No, you’re not. You’re being difficult.”

  He’s manoeuvring me now, backing me towards the sofa. We’re interrupted when Lucas saunters into the room and perches himself on the arm of said sofa.