Page 42 of Tricky Magic
They walked out of the greenhouse together, and he headed toward the woods like the first time they met.
“Are you staying close by?” she asked before he got too far, not sure why it mattered.
“Not too far,” he said. “I’m still looking at that property on the lake.”
He didn’t give too much away, which she didn’t mind. She was doing the same.
“Okay,” she said with a wave. “See you tomorrow, and thanks for the help.”
“Of course, Ellea,” he said and waved back. Ellea headed toward the cabin in desperate need of food and a shower. When she looked back over her shoulder, he was gone, as if he’d stepped into the shadows and disappeared.
19
Ellea
Every day was the same. Run in the morning while doing her best to ignore Ros, who ran right beside her, a shower, then right to the greenhouse to work with Elias. More research until she fell asleep wherever she was, wondering what the fuck Billy was up to, then waking up and doing it all over again. It had been long and tiring, but she was thankful.
Elias had been decent, working with her through the weekend and the beginning of the week. They’d started with theory versus attempting magic, having long discussions about what would form the apple. Where would it all come from? Ellea was sure he could just tell her how to do it, but it seemed he wanted her to learn on her own.
Where he was patient and reassuring, she was restless and doubtful. He felt she was ready to work on the core and seeds today. She didn’t know what told him this, but she trusted him—and she didn’t really have a choice.
“Think about how an apple is actually formed,” he said. “They don’t just appear one day for a farmer to bring to the market.”
“I’m not a child, Elias.” There was no harshness in her tone. “This seems like such a long way of doing things.”
“I know.” His look was encouraging. “But sometimes that’s how it has to be. Now the seeds, those come first.”
Ellea sat on the floor with her legs crossed under her, the illusion of an apple resting in her palm. Elias had said it a number of times, start with the inside and work your way out.
She could form a few seeds.
Envisioning a tree sprouting the start of an apple, she let out a breath and pushed some more of her magic into the illusion. She waited for the explosion, but nothing came. Elias reached from where he was sitting across from her, his long pale fingers plucking three seeds from the middle of the illusion.
“Step one.” He grinned. “You did it.”
A wide smile stretched across Ellea’s face, and she let the illusion fade away. Another seed landed in her palm, and she marveled at it. It had taken five days to get this far. Trying to not let that discourage her, she looked up from her seed, silently asking Elias for direction.
“Let’s go again,” he said, crushing the seeds in his hand until they were dust.
20
Ros
Three days into September and fall was already showing her face. The mornings were becoming increasingly crisp along with the nights. Midday still had some heat to it, but nothing compared to the blistering summer. Ellea had been more quiet on this morning’s run; not in a moody way, more distracted. Her powers were the same, continuously growing restless under her skin, and Ros often wondered what it felt like for her to have such power coursing through her veins and not releasing it. His own beast rumbled at the thought.
Ros did know what that much power felt like, he had lived with it for centuries, but knowing she didn’t do anything with it was the scary part. His research on the little he did know was not helping, and neither were their daily encounters. She consumed almost every thought of his. The way her long ponytail bobbed from side to side as she ran. Her curls, like her moods, were never the same; some days they would be relaxed and loose, other days they would be erratic and tight. Her words could have the harshest bites that went straight to his cock. Some days she would be more subdued, almost too tired to fight back, and he hated those days the most.
Where her curls would change, her outfits were always the same. Black leggings and one of three old t-shirts. Those leggings… damn that tight black fabric. They were going to be the death of him. Her ass was fucking perfect, and those short curvy legs held so much power. How could something in such a compact size carry so much magic and strength? She barely made it up to his chest.
The never-ending thoughts distracted him on his drive to Sam’s; he was already pulling into the driveway. He had received a call late last night from Weylyn about another vampire clan. This group was further north. Their motive was the same, capturing women and children and using them for a number of things other than blood. Unlike the usual clans, they were still using demons. That’s where Sam came in.
He would usually handle these situations on his own, but something was telling him to bring backup. Sadly, this trip also meant he would miss tomorrow’s run. They would have to leave now and travel six hours by car, then another hour by foot. He wondered how happy Ellea would be to not have him on the run tomorrow. Honestly, he hoped she would miss him. It made him smile as he headed to where Sam waited on his front porch.
“Ah, I take it the witch is still alive?” Sam asked with a smile.
“Yes.” Ros smiled wider. “Very much alive, and very much causing trouble.”
“Well, let’s go kill some vampires and get you back to her in one piece.” He smacked Ros’ shoulder. “I would hate for her to have less of you to beat the shit out of.”
