A Breath of Magic (9 page)

My stomach sloshed again, so I dug a peppermint Certs out of my purse, and popped it into my mouth. Ben joined me with two icy cold bottles of water. Collapsing on the bench next to me, he stretched his long legs out and unscrewed the top from one. Handing it over, he ordered, “Drink up.”

I swallowed a large gulp and then held the bottle to my cheek, my eyes on Ben. His own were focused straight ahead, taking in the strolling and chatting crowd: families, tourists, teens, adults. Anywhere but on me.

I ached to touch him but didn’t feel as if I should. Well, that’s a lie. I certainly felt as if I should, as if I had the right, but I knew
he
didn’t.

Touch
me
, I thought instead. Please. Look at me. Focus on me. See me. Touch me.

The queasiness gave way to the faintest tingling of warmth. A hot ball of energy in my stomach slowly expanded, licking through every nerve, every muscle, rippling into my skin, until every part of me vibrated with power. The magic took hold, frightening me with its quickness, with its potency. I tried to rein the energy in, but it continued; my emotions were too strong to turn back. I breathed in through my nose, out through my mouth, focusing on banishing the power. I hadn’t meant to cast a spell—cross my heart and hope to die, I hadn’t!

I gulped more water, not to quench thirst but in the hopes that it would drown out the magic. The fire burned on, so I tipped the bottle higher, dumping the rest of the water into
my mouth. That’s when I saw it, out of the corner of my eye: a sparkle. Lots of sparkles. Holy crap! My hand was
glowing
. Not like one of those glow-in-the-dark green-tinted sticks for kids, but more like I’d dipped my hand into iridescent glitter. Not bright or showy, but very, very real.

The bottle fell from my grasp. Curious, I held my hand in front of my face. On closer appraisal, it wasn’t so much the skin that glittered and sparkled, but the veins beneath and, when I turned my hand over, the little lines in my palm.

“Chloe?” Ben asked.

I whipped my hand behind him, placing it in the space just below his neck. So he wouldn’t see the magic literally running through my veins. “I’m not a litterer. I swear! That bottle…uh…slipped.”

He blinked. His eyes deepened in color to a nearly black indigo. The heat in my hand increased, but it wasn’t uncomfortable or alarming. Rather, it was a lot like the rush of warm water from a faucet. Another blink, and he bent his head toward me.

Three of my fingers rested on his neck, the other two on his shirt. Warmth was everywhere: my fingers and wherever I touched him. Before I knew what was happening, before I could even begin to process the change in me, in Ben, his face came closer to mine. We were eye to eye, nose to nose and very nearly lip to lip.

“Chloe,” he said again. “Do you know how beautiful you look right now? Your skin is radiant, almost luminous. Is that—?”

“Cosmetics! The sun! It’s…uh…girl stuff,” I whispered in a rush. I moved my hand up, wove my fingers into his wind-blown hair and tugged his head forward. “Kiss me. I want you to kiss me.”

Gripping my arms, he dragged me even closer. Everything slowed down. The sounds around me disappeared. This—oh, God—was the moment I’d been waiting for.

He brushed my lips with his, just the slightest of touches, and a physical jolt fired through me, sending everything into a whirling, dizzying, breathless spin. He deepened the kiss, whirling me even further into the maelstrom of emotions, of sensations, into a level of intimacy so deep, so baring, that it seemed impossible.

I moaned as my tongue slipped inside his mouth, tasting him, savoring him, enjoying him as I’d never enjoyed a kiss—a man—thus far in my life. His hands slid from my arms, wrapped around me, enfolding, capturing me. And I knew in a way that the drawing hadn’t shown me that I belonged to this man. He belonged to me. We belonged to each other. And I would fight to the death to win him over.

He pulled back, desire in his eyes.

“Why…? Don’t stop,” I whispered. “Don’t ever stop.”

This elicited a grin and a chuckle. “Sweetie, we’re in the middle of an amusement park. If I don’t stop now, I won’t be able to.” He winked. “And then we’d get kicked out.”

I stroked his cheek as I had earlier, barely noticing the glitter had disappeared from my hand. “I don’t think I care. But you’re probably right.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “Probably? You’re…you’re like no woman I’ve ever met. But, Chloe—” With a quick shake of his head, he retreated. “Never mind. This isn’t the time.”

“No
never-mind
s. What?” I pressed. “You can say anything to me.”

His face became serious. So serious that my stomach hurt. “I started to tell you the other day, but I don’t date anymore. I’m not interested in settling down or finding a wife or becoming involved in a relationship.”

“Oh.” His words were a bucket of cold water in the face.

“And you’re the type of woman who’s looking for serious.”

“How do you know what I’m looking for?” I raised my chin, straightened my backbone. “So you’re just out for some fun and games, is that it?”

He had the courtesy to look ashamed. “I wasn’t. I’m not. You’re the first woman I’ve gone out with in a long time. Hell, Chloe, I still can’t figure out why I said yes.”

Ha! Well, I knew the answer to that one. “Maybe you’re drawn to me. Maybe I’m the girl of your dreams, but you don’t recognize it yet.”

“No, Chloe, you’re not. I met the girl of my dreams a long time ago, and it didn’t work out. I’m not in the market for another.”

He looked so darn serious, and he believed every freaking word of his spiel, but that drawing told me different and our kiss told me different, so even though his declaration hurt, I swallowed the pain. “I just got out of a year-long relationship, myself, so I’m not looking for serious,” I lied through my home-bleached teeth. “I’m looking to have fun. And games. And honestly, Ben, I can’t think of anyone I’d rather do that with.”

Relief washed over him. In any other circumstance, my heart would have crumpled into a thousand and one slivered pieces. As it was, it merely split in two.

“You’re up for that? Because I’m not going to change my mind,” he said softly, his gaze searching.

Giving him my best possible come-hither, slutty-girl-from-the-wrong-side-of-the-neighborhood smile, I winked. “Oh, baby. I’m up, down and all over that.”

“Well, then, Miss Chloe Nichols, I’m game. It will be my pleasure to be your rebound.” He tipped my chin with one finger and kissed me gently. “I’m starving. Do you think you can handle some food?”

“I’m famished,” I said, still smiling brightly through my lies. “Food sounds terrific.”

He stood and pulled me up too. “Let’s do it. Then, if you’re ready, we can give the Ferris wheel another try. What do you think?”

“Sure, why not?” The sky hadn’t even begun to darken,
but I sort of figured I wouldn’t notice the size of the wheel or how far the ground loomed beneath us. Not with my mind, heart and soul rehashing every last word of the crummy conversation we’d just had. Besides, I’d had my share of roller coasters for the time being, literally and figuratively. Not his dream girl, he said? Didn’t want a relationship? My rebound guy?

Yeah, well, we’d just see about that.

Tuesday evening, I was curled up on my couch trying to pay attention to one of my favorite old movies,
Arsenic and Old Lace
. Unfortunately, that was a no-go. Not only was I bummed that I hadn’t heard from Ben since our date, I’d spent half of every night fantasizing about him touching me and the other half nearly sick to my stomach worrying about the darkness inside him. I was flat-out exhausted.

I kept coming back to that one moment, the one on the roller coaster when he’d looked at me with that too-sexy-for-real-life smile.
That
man, the one I’d so briefly glimpsed, was the real Ben. I needed to find him, to draw him out, because that was the man who would fall in love with me. I was sure of it.

Learning the origin of his darkness seemed the ideal place to begin, but the idea of investigating filled me with more than a little fear. Delving into his past could potentially have the opposite effect I intended, pushing him further away. And even with magic on my side, there were no guarantees, which Sunday’s date had proved well enough.

Sighing, I switched the television off. Cary Grant and his on-screen, homicidal spinster aunts would have to wait. So would Ben, for my thoughts turned to Kyle. I’d left him a few messages, just wanting to know how he was doing, but he hadn’t returned my calls. I hoped he was okay.

Standing from the couch, I went in search of something to munch on, but stopped midstride when the doorbell rang. I wasn’t expecting visitors, so I peered through the peephole
before unlocking the chain. Grandma Verda was on the other side.

“Hey, Verda,” I said, opening up. Glancing over her shoulder, I gestured for her to come in. “Are you alone?”

“Yes, dear. It’s just me.” She whisked inside, a blur of orange and white—and pink, naturally, as her hair remained reminiscent of cotton candy. She held her handbag tightly in front of her while she glanced around my apartment. “Do you have company?”

Memories of the last time made me pause. “Why? I’m not in the mood for an intervention tonight.”

She chuckled. “That’s not why I’m here. What with your magic arriving and Miranda’s help, I think you’ll be okay. There isn’t any reason to steal you away.”

“Well…good. And no, I don’t have company.” We’d already discussed both Miranda and the arrival of my magic that night at the Mystic Corner, so I figured Verda’s visit was somehow related to my friend and cousin. “Is Alice okay? I tried calling, but no one answered.”

Verda headed directly for the living room. Normally, she moved as if she were twenty years younger than her actual age. Not tonight. Her slow, shuffling gait and the slumped form of her shoulders reflected every one of her years.

When we were seated, I said, “You look a little tired. Are you feeling all right?”

Her hands shook as she deposited her purse on the floor. “No need to worry yourself over me. I’m just dandy. As for Alice, she’s also well enough.”

“I’m…uh…glad to hear that.”

“I probably should have called first,” she admitted. A quiver rippled through her, making her hands tremble more. Clutching them together in her lap, she fidgeted and then spoke so softly, I had to lean close. “I have a favor to ask.”

That put me instantly on alert. “What kind of favor?”

She sat up straighter. “You have to promise that you won’t share this with anyone.”

“Of course I won’t.” I mimed zipping my lips shut. “Completely confidential.”

“That means Alice and Elizabeth too. Are you willing to keep something from them?”

I’d somehow assumed Alice and Elizabeth already knew. “Can you give me a hint as to what this is about?”

Her watery blue eyes were full of defiance. “No. You have to trust me, and then you have to promise. I’m sorry to do this to you, Chloe, but I need your absolute assurance that you’ll keep this quiet.”

I hesitated, not liking the idea. “I don’t know if I can. It depends on what this is about.”

She wrinkled her nose, searching for a loophole she could use to get me to agree. “How about this?” she said with a tiny grin. “You make your promise on the contingency that I’ll promise to let them in on the secret when the time is right.”

“Who decides when the time is right?”

“Well, I do, of course. Who else?”

I pressed my lips together so I wouldn’t laugh. “So the time could be a week, a month or never?”

She snorted. “You’re too smart for your own good. Fine, you win. I promise I’ll spill the beans—if there’s anything worth spilling—within…oh, say no more than two months’ time. Does that work for you?”

“One month,” I countered.

“Six weeks.”

While I still had my reservations, I also didn’t see how I could say no. “Six weeks and not one day longer?”

Crossing her fingers over her heart, she grinned. “I promise.”

“Then I promise too. Now, what’s this all about?”

As soon as I made the vow, her entire body visibly relaxed. “Well, see, now that you have the magic…” Stopping,
she rubbed her arms, as if to chase away a chill. “You know the history of the magic, and how Elizabeth was the first in our family since Miranda to keep the gift and also to pass it on, and how that will continue for you, for Alice, for Rose and whoever comes after. Right?”

“Yeah. No one else will lose the magic by passing it on, but what does that have to do with—?” I clapped my jaw shut. “You want me to try to gift the magic back to you, don’t you?”

“Yes.” Her frail shoulders lifted slightly. “I know it sounds crazy, and it might not work, but I have to know for sure. The magic was a part of me for most of my adult life. I feel as if I’ve lost a leg or an arm. I look around at my beautiful family, and I rejoice that you girls have our family’s gift…but oh, do I miss it.”

I understood her feelings well enough, but I didn’t get the secrecy. “Why don’t you want Elizabeth and Alice to know? They’d support you in this. I’m sure of it.”

“I’m not as sure. Besides, I have my reasons.” Hope shimmered over her, as bright as a starry sky. “Will you try, Chloe?”

I heard the yearning in her voice, and my heart broke a little. “Why did you pass the gift on, if you weren’t ready to give it away?”

“I’m old, kiddo. Too old to have kept something that might have gone to the grave with me. I had to give the magic to Elizabeth. It was the only way. But now…”

“Everything has changed.”

“Exactly. I’ve tried to deal with the loss. I’ve told myself I’m a silly old woman who has no need for magic any longer. That I’m happy with my life and to let this go.”

“But you can’t.”

“Not without knowing for sure. So, Chloe, will you humor me and give this a chance?”

I reached over to grasp Verda’s hands in mine and squeezed.
She was the core of our family, the sun we all revolved around. I could do this for her. No. I
would
do this for her. Focusing inward, I envisioned my power as a clear, brilliant stream of light. It whirled and bobbed inside of me, mixing with my energy, with my emotions, gaining strength from both until the light swirled and jumped outside of and around me…around us.

My breath caught in my throat. Energy sizzled along my skin, making the hair stand up. Warmth flooded my body, beginning as a tingle at my toes and then quickly rising through me, until it seeped from my hands into Verda’s. I totally expected to see the sparkling, glittering array beneath my skin, like what had happened with Ben, and I realized belatedly that I should’ve warned Verda about it. But as the power grew, as it pulsated inside of me, my skin remained its normal pale shade.

I finally formed the words that seemed necessary: “I wish for Miranda’s gift to touch you again, for you to reclaim our family’s magic. This is my wish for you, because you deserve it. Because I love you.”

I repeated the wish several more times while the energy continued to work its way from me, through me, bleeding into Verda. I felt the power. I
knew
the wish was working.

Suddenly, the power stilled in the room, hanging in the air like the heaviest of weights, as if time had been halted by some unknown force. Fear that something had gone wrong overcame me, but I refused to let it take hold. Digging as deep as I could, I funneled every last drop of my energy into repeating the wish.

I heard a snap. Electricity crackled bright, fast and hot, almost as if bolts of lightning had zapped through the room, through me, through Verda. Another second passed, and then another. Oh so slowly the power trickled out of me, evaporating into the air, and in barely a heartbeat, everything reverted to normal. I collapsed against the back of my
chair, even more wiped out than earlier. Verda still sat in the same position, but her eyes were wide, shiny with unshed tears.

“What do you think? Did it work?” I mentally crossed my fingers and toes.

Her cheeks became a full shade darker than her hair. “I think so! Of course, a few practice sessions will be necessary to be sure. But thank you, Chloe!”

“You’re welcome. Just remember our deal: six weeks from today, and absolutely no later.” Because Alice and Elizabeth would definitely want to know.

“I won’t forget.” Standing, she came to me for a quick hug and added, “Is there anything you want to chat about?”

Happy to see her normal verve had returned, I grinned. “Nope. I know you’re dying to test your power out. But…uh…try not to do anything too crazy.”

“That, my dear, is not a promise I recall making!” Retrieving her purse, she just about floated to the door. “Besides, I’m a little old lady. Nothing is too crazy for little old ladies. It’s the best part of aging!”

She let herself out, and I was once again alone. Dear God, what had I done? Hopefully, whatever craziness Verda planned would, at a minimum, fall into the legal category. Otherwise, there would be hell to pay, and I’d be the one paying.

I locked the front door and then nearly crawled back to the couch. The extra few feet to my bedroom seemed far too vast a distance. Yes, I really was that tired. Covering myself with a blanket, I closed my eyes and emptied my brain. Exhausted or not, too many thoughts would keep me up.

My breathing slowed and my body relaxed, but mere seconds before I completely dropped off, the faint scent of roses tickled my nose. Instantly awake, I sat upright, my heart already zipping along at top speed, expecting to see Miranda perched on one of my chairs. Or maybe watching me from
the dining room. No…and no. I sniffed again, wondering if I’d imagined the scent, but the fragrance still lingered, reaffirming my belief that Miranda was in my apartment. Somewhere. But a quick search of each room, including the bathroom, came up empty. The ghost wasn’t in residence.

Shivering, as if I’d caught Verda’s chill from earlier, I wrapped my arms around myself. Every single instinct insisted that Miranda had been here, watching me. So why had she left without saying a word? What could she possibly have wanted?

Chloe!” Paige hollered from the front of the store the next morning. “You have a delivery!”

I tossed my pen on my desk and rubbed my temples, a headache already brewing, the result of not enough sleep combined with the sheer agony of balancing accounts. That, along with all of the other strange events highlighting the past several days, had made me solidly cranky.

I stomped out of the back room in a huff, ready to raise hell. “Why is anything except for the mail being delivered through the front door? That’s why we have a back door: for deliveries! And why are you screa—?” My eyes fell on the huge, blossoming bouquet of flowers that Paige held. I stopped in my tracks. “Oh. Wow.”

“Yeah.” Paige’s lips curved into a quirky grin. “Wow!”

In the snap of a finger, a rush of giddy, schoolgirl elation replaced my crankiness. I crossed the rest of the room so fast that my legs probably blurred. “Are those for me?”

“Unless you know of some other woman named Chloe Nichols at this address.” Paige shoved the bouquet into my hands. I dipped my nose down, smelling the intoxicating fragrances, already forgetting every last worry that had kept me awake.

“Oh, wow,” I repeated. “These are gorgeous.” And they were. White daisies, purple lilacs, some plum-colored bloom
I didn’t recognize and sunny yellow daffodils.
Ben.
They had to be from him. Who else?

On the other side of the counter, I shifted items on the shelf that lined the wall, freeing a spot for the large green glass vase. Carefully I set the flowers down, and then stepped back and stared at them.

“There’s a card,” Paige prodded. “Don’t you want to know who they’re from?”

“I know who,” I said, my eyes still on the flowers. “Aren’t they beautiful? And so romantic!”

“I think you should read the card, Chloe,” Paige pressed. “If you don’t, I’m going to.”

“Of course I’m going to read it!” I slid the florist’s white envelope out of the plastic holder. Pulling the flap free, I carefully pried the card out, shivers of anticipation rolling over my skin.

Aw…a splash of red and pink hearts covered the front. I teased the card open with my thumb, but read the printed words slowly, wanting to savor the moment.

Chloe, I can’t get you out of my mind.

Maybe I was wrong and you are my dream girl?

I’m willing to find out.

I did a happy little strut, my eyes still on the message. Ben wanted to move forward in a relationship. With me. After just one date! Somehow, something had shifted inside him, leading him toward me—toward the future we were going to have. Hardly able to contain my excitement, I reread the card, this time noticing the last line.

“ ‘Love, Kyle,’ ” I whispered.

I brushed my finger over the writing, trying to ignore the stabbing sensation in my chest, hoping that somehow I’d read wrong. Of course, I hadn’t. Why oh why couldn’t Ben have sent this? These were the words I wanted
him
to say,
not Kyle. My grip tightened on the card, and that annoying little voice inside my head piped up, reminding me that not that long ago, I
had
wanted this—and so much more—from Kyle.

“Geez, I’m a bitch,” I said. “A fickle bitch at that.”