For Love or Magic (27 page)

Judd glanced over and shrugged. “Beats the hell out of me. I don't know. I've been a little worried about it, honestly. I'm not sure what's waiting for me on the other side.”

“So … what?” I asked. “You've just been … here? All this time?”

“Well,” he said, spreading his hands. “Time here isn't exactly like it is there, but … yeah. Pretty much. Been hanging out with you.”

I stared at him, and it took me a moment to realize what he was saying. “You mean … that was really you? You were really there? That whole time?”

Judd shrugged. “Yeah. I didn't want to leave you.”

I reached out and hit him, and there was a firm connection of … not a physical body, but something. I got a sense of satisfaction from the hit, anyway.

“You let me think I was nuts!” I said.

“No, you listened to that doctor who told you I was all in your imagination,” he said. “I just didn't argue about it. And then, after a while, it seemed to make it a little easier on you when I could come through, and you stopped expecting me to answer all your questions, so … I maybe fed the idea a little.”

He made a “teensy bit” gesture with his thumb and index finger. I was about to hit him again when I felt a sharp pain run throughout my body and I doubled over. Judd caught me, and there was a strange kind of existential dizziness as I felt us being pulled away from the white limbo and back into the town square.

“Oh, Ellie? You don't look so good.”

I didn't feel great, either. I tried to get my bearings, but the pain was wild. It was like, in just those few moments of peace I'd had, I had forgotten what pain felt like. But now, it was rippling through me, and it took me a moment to identify it as emotional pain. I felt my feet land on earth, and when I looked up, Judd and I were in the town square, and the white limbo was fading.

And Desmond was walking toward my body. He wasn't rushing. He already knew there was nothing to be done. He knew he was too late.

“Oh,” I said simply at the sight of him. There was something about being without a body that made every sensation so powerful and sudden that it rocked you, like being on the bow of a ship in wild swells. There was no anchor strong enough to keep you grounded.

Stacy was kneeling next to me, her knees tucked under her in defeat. Desmond fell to his knees beside her, his face stony. She said something to him, and I could see tears on her face. He didn't look at her, his eyes were focused on me, but he reached out and squeezed her hand. She squeezed back, and another wave of pain and longing and sadness shot through my entire being.

Desmond released Stacy's hand, and slid his arms under me. I looked like a rag doll in his arms, but he held me close, protectively, despite the fact that there was nothing to protect me from anymore. I wanted to touch him, to comfort him, to tell him everything was all right, that I was okay, but when I reached out, my hand went right through him.

“Yeah,” Judd said from behind me, his voice thick. “That's really hard. I was there when the cops came to the door to tell you. I was with you after they left. Took you a while to see me there. I had to really work for it.”

I didn't respond to Judd. I didn't care. All I wanted was to be with Desmond again. The pain of separation was unbearable, and yet, I couldn't leave him. I knelt beside him as he held me in his arms.

“Ellie?” Judd said. “Maybe you don't want to do this. You're not gonna make him feel any better, and you're only going to make yourself feel worse. Maybe we should just go back.”

Nodaway Falls was in chaos; people coming out of their houses, wandering in the street, trying and failing to start their cars. Magic everywhere. Somewhere not far from where Desmond sat next to my body, a child made snow in summer, and laughed. For all the temporary destruction I had wrought to mechanical and electrical items, the people were okay, and there was a town where magic was out and open and normal.

But none of that mattered to me. I'd given my life for it, but all I could see, and feel, and know, was Desmond. He held me in his arms and his face was still a mask of stone, but I could feel the storm inside him. Not having a body to process emotion for me meant that every emotion hit at full force, even other people's. I felt Desmond's despair, his grief, his guilt, his devastation. His love. Some of it was mine, too. The idea of leaving him, of
ever
leaving him, was unthinkable. I would stay here, by his side, until … until …

“Hey, Ellie,” Judd said behind me, his tone tense. “We really need to go.”

Desmond smoothed my hair away from my face and kissed my forehead. “My dear little girl.”

“Oh!” I said, and turned to Judd. “I heard him! I can hear him! Can he hear me?” I waved my hands around him, trying to touch him and failing. “Desmond! Desmond!”

And that's when a pain, white hot and terrifying, ran through me, and I crumpled down, falling to the ground. I could hear the grass crunch under me, and Desmond glanced my way quickly, but saw nothing, and then turned his attention back to my body.

“What's happening?” I asked, looking up at Judd.

“Yeah.” He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, rumpling it. “There's a thing you should probably know.” He hesitated while I watched him, panting under the pain.

“What?” I asked.

“You can go back, if you want to,” Judd said finally.

Elation ran through me, followed by hot spasms of wild pain.

“It's gonna hurt,” Judd said. “It's gonna hurt a lot. But if he's worth it to you—”

Pop.

I wanted to scream, but I couldn't. My body felt like it was lying on spikes that were slowly sinking into me, ripping me apart from within. My lungs burned as I gasped for air, and the world spun around me, pulling me into darkness.

“Eliot?” Desmond's frantic voice called to me, anchoring me, and I pulled up from the darkness. I opened my eyes a tiny bit, allowing a small shaft of light in, and shards of pain shot through my head. I pulled in another breath, and my lungs burned with a fury.

“Stacy! Nick! Someone! Help!” Desmond laid me on the grass gently and tipped my head back to open my air passages. I took in another ragged breath and coughed.

Fuck,
I thought.
This hurts.
But I couldn't say anything. I was too weak to say anything. All the peace that I'd felt in that space between life and death had gone. I was inside this body which suddenly felt unreasonably heavy and gross. Every inch of me seared with pain like I'd never felt before and yet … I was happy.

I stretched out my fingers, a tiny movement that took almost all my strength. Immediately, Desmond's hand was holding mine. I felt him kiss my knuckles, not raising my hand to his lips, but rather lowering himself to me. Then he gently kissed my forehead, and I felt his breath shoot against my skin as a sob overtook him.

I opened my eyes again, and withstood the pain of the light as my sight adjusted. Finally, I was able to see Desmond looking down at me, the sky bright white and blinding behind him.

“Help is coming,” he said. “You're going to be all right.”

He pulled me into his arms again. I rested my head on his shoulder and looked into the white sky, where Judd looked back down at me. His mouth moved, but I couldn't hear him. After a moment, he threw me a kiss, gave a short wave, and walked away into the whiteness.

And then, everything went black.

*   *   *

The walls of my room were pink.

The natural light was dim in the room, so it was either dawn or dusk, but I had no idea which. It wasn't a hospital room, but when I moved my hand, I felt something pulling on the back of my hand, and when I looked down, there was an IV taped on, and a plastic tube running up to what looked like a saline bag. A door opened, and a short, pudgy redheaded woman I'd never seen before stepped in wearing pink scrubs. She walked over to my bag, checked it, and then looked down at me. A look of pleasant surprise washed over her face, and she smiled at me.

“Well, hello there,” she said. “How are you feeling, sweetheart?”

“Um…” My voice was hoarse and my throat was scratchy. The nurse rushed to the nightstand and poured some water from a plastic hospital pitcher into a plastic hospital cup. I drank gratefully and tried again.

“Where am I?” I asked.

“Olivia Kiskey's house,” she said. “My name is Beverly. I live down on Jefferson, by the old laundromat?”

“Oh. Right,” I said. “Yeah, I go there.”

“It's a good place. Anyway, I work with Peach at the hospital. I smuggled in the equipment.” She winked at me. “Apparently, treating magical injuries at the hospital can make things worse, so we've had that British doctor managing your care.”

My heart started to race at the mention of what I presumed to be Desmond, but Beverly didn't seem to notice.

“Anyway, you've been out for about fifteen hours, but everything is going to be just fine. We've set up a triage here for magical injuries, and that guy has been running around like a chicken with his head cut off.”

“You mean … you mean Desmond, right?”

She waved a hand in the air and laughed. “Is that his name? I came in and he started barking orders at me and I just took to calling him Doc. We were never really introduced.” She sat down on the edge of my bed. “So … this magic thing. That's a pip, huh?”

“Yeah,” I said, looking at her. “You live in town? Do you…?”

Her expression remained friendly, but I could see a hint of freaked-out in her eyes. “Night magic. I do a thing with my hands, there's a whole bunch of weird green sparks, and then
poof
!
Watermelon
.” She laughed. “It's the damnedest thing. ‘What's your magic?' is the new pickup line at Happy Larry's. It's crazy.” She patted the bed and sat up. “Well, honey, it's still early. Maybe you should go back to sleep.”

“Um … the doctor…? Is he…?”

“He's sleeping,” she said. “Finally. They said something like he hadn't slept since the fireworks, poor guy. Are you all right? Did you want me to wake him?”

“Oh.”
Yes. Yes. Yes.
“No. Let him sleep. I'll see him later. I'm fine.”

“All right, honey.” Beverly started for the door, then stopped and turned around. “We're not supposed to talk to you about it. The doc says not to upset you or anything, but…” She took in a deep breath, and her chin quivered a bit. “I've got a small boy. He's twelve years old. The magic hit and he was so excited. We didn't know it would hurt him to use it, so we let him play and then…” She let out a sharp sigh and swiped at her eyes. “Well, you know. I was scared to death, and then all of a sudden, this blue spark whips over town and our TV set stops working and he just hops out of bed and asks for Fruit Loops.” She laughed. “We're not supposed to say anything to you, but I just can't leave this room without saying thank you for saving my little boy.”

Her eyes filled with tears and she rushed over and gave me a quick hug.

“Don't tell the doc I said anything, okay? He'll skewer me with a fire poker if he finds out I defied his direct orders.”

I smiled. “I won't say anything.”

“Good. We'll keep it just between us girls, then.” She headed back toward the door. “You sure there's nothing I can get for you, Ms. Parker?”

“No, thank you,” I said. “And you can call me Eliot.”

“Okay, Eliot. If you need anything, there's a little wireless button on your nightstand there that will ring a bell downstairs.” She laughed. “We had to go get 'em at the Home Depot out in Buffalo. Nothing in this town works anymore!”

And with that, she slipped out and shut the door behind her. In the hallway, I heard the tone of her voice talking to someone, and a moment later, the door opened slowly, and Desmond walked in.

He stood there by the door for a while, just watching me. Unlike Beverly, Desmond wasn't dressed for the job, and he looked like hell. His face was sporting a patchy layer of scruff, his tie was gone, his shirt unbuttoned at the collar and half sticking out of his trousers, which were wrinkled and still had grass stains on the knees.

“Wow,” I said. “You clean up good.”

He let out a short laugh and looked down at himself, and it seemed as if this was the first thought he'd given to his appearance in days.

“Yes. Well.” He walked over to me and pulled a chair up next to my bed, but didn't say anything, just stared at me with an expression I couldn't quite read, except to tell that it wasn't happy. He picked up a notebook that was sitting on the edge of my bed; I guessed that was my medical chart. “It looks like your vitals are improving.”

“I'm sorry I didn't tell you where I was going,” I said. “You would have tried to stop me.”

“You're right.” His eyes landed heavily on mine. “I would have. It was stupid and reckless and it might not even have worked—”

“But it did,” I nudged.

“But it might
not
have.” His face was stony calm, much as it had been when he'd been sitting over my dead body. He lowered his eyes, going back to the notebook. “I would like to keep you under observation here for another twenty-four hours at least.”

“I'm sorry,” I said again. “I know that was hard on you.”

“You can't
begin
to know…” He trailed off, his eyes still on the notebook, but I could tell he wasn't focused on the writing.

“I know,” I said. “I was there. I was watching.”

He looked up at that, his dark eyes wild. “No.
I
was there. I held your body.”

“I know,” I said, but then he looked up with dark fury in his eyes and said, “You
don't
know!”