Roar (Witches & Warlocks Book 3) (12 page)

“You mean to tell me the whole scary Barnabe Withers thing is just an act?” I take another drink and maybe it’s the conspiratorial tone he’s been using, or maybe it’s the drink, but I almost feel like he’s a friend. Like I can trust him.

He takes a step back and his face hardens into something that looks too old on his open face with his golden hair. “Oh no, my dear. You have every reason to be afraid of me.” With a wave of his fingers, Barnabe sets the house on fire. With a whispered word, he freezes his guests in place. Holds my hand and his magic channels through me and I can’t run away.

People are screaming and burning and fire is inching its way closer to my feet. “Why are you doing this?” I cry, trying again to pull my arm free. I’ll never get the smell of burning flesh out of my nose, the screams of the dying out of my head.

Barnabe lifts a finger and mutters another spell. The fire recedes. Those who were wounded are healed. They turn back to what they were doing as if nothing at all happened. “To remind you that I have more power in just one of my fingers than you have in your whole body.” He leans in close. “You’d be wise to remember that the next time you feel the urge to put a hand on me again.”

I swallow hard and watch his charming smile slide back in place, an expression that seems better suited to his youthful appearance.

“Now, off you go. Mingle. Have fun. You look gorgeous. Enjoy yourself. This is a celebration after all.” Barnabe spins me around to face the dance floor. “See, Noah has the right idea. He’s found a new friend.”

My stomach lurches when I see what Barnabe wanted me to see. Noah has a woman pulled into a tight embrace, his body pressed to hers, dancing as if they were the only people in the room. Her cheek is pressed to his and her eyes are closed and her face tells me she knows exactly how good it feels to be in his arms.

I stare at them, despair flooding through me with anger and magic hot on its heels. It’s pulsing inside me, building up to something I might not be able to control. This is so not the place to have a magical meltdown. Besides, Noah’s just my friend. There’s no reason for me to be mad. No reason to be hurt. I mean, I danced with Luke. He should get to dance with whomever he wants. And who’s to say he’s not dancing with that woman because Barnabe made him?

The sinking feeling in my stomach tells me that I’m not going to be able to talk myself into feeling OK about this. I might know intellectually that he can dance with whomever he wants, but emotionally all I want is to be the woman he holds tight his arms. I need to get out of here before I do something I regret.

Chapter Fourteen

I make a beeline for the door and don’t stop until I’m on the beach, carrying my shoes so my heels don’t sink into the sand. I know it’s totally ridiculous to be this upset because Noah’s dancing with someone else. But you know how it goes, what our head knows and what our heart feels … well … those things don’t always line up. I walk until the water licks my feet and my dress swirls in the water around my ankles, only to pull against my legs as the waves try to carry it back out to sea.

I’m being silly. Childish. Selfish even. Noah is not mine. He might have been once, but I guess I’ve ruined that. As much as I’m trying to wrap my head around those thoughts, my heart’s busy sending me all kinds of questions I don’t have answers to. Who was that girl? Why did he hold her so close? Why her and not me? What’s wrong with me?

That last one hits home. It’s the same question I’ve asked my entire life. What’s wrong with me?

I thought I’d answered that question. You know, when I found out I had a shit load of spells put on me to cripple me, to keep me socially stunted, to keep me alone and reliant on Becca. You can’t imagine what a relief it was to actually believe that there’s wasn’t anything
internally
wrong with me. You know, like I wasn’t intrinsically flawed. To know the problems I had were born of external sources.

Yet, here I am, all those external sources removed, and I find myself still asking that question. Talk about disheartening. So, what’s wrong with me now?

Well, for one, I’m ruining a perfectly good evening gown by standing in the ocean. That seems somewhat irresponsible. I chuckle a little. All the fury seeps out of me and I let the tide carry it out to sea. So, Noah’s dancing with someone else. I danced with Luke. I didn’t like it, but I did it. Besides, I have no claim on Noah. He’s free to dance with whomever he wants to dance with.

I’m definitely feeling a little silly now, but I have absolutely no desire to go back into Barnabe’s strange little soiree. I guess I’m more blue jeans and beer than ball gowns and crystal. Barnabe wants us to celebrate. Standing around and staring at each other sounds like the worst possible way to celebrate in my opinion. Give me loud music and laughter any time.

So, now what? Do I just go back inside, dripping little bits of ocean water all over the nice floors? Pretend I didn’t just have a little hissy fit for no good reason at all? That all sounds like one big old ball of no thank you.

I could just hang out here and appreciate my very first trip to the beach. May not be the way I planned it, but here I am. It’d be way better if I could, you know, actually see what’s around me. I know Barnabe said I shouldn’t use any magic, but I’m not sure if I’ll ever find my way back to the ocean. It’d be a waste if all I can remember is the way it felt on my feet. I want to look out over the vastness of it, let my eyes linger on the horizon and feel small for a while.

I call on the tiger, focus on her predator’s eyes, her ability to see in the dark. It’s just a small amount of magic, not like Barnabe lighting up the whole night sky for me. It shouldn’t hurt me too much.

There’s a little pop, the one that sometimes accompanies my magic, and I can see. It’s everything I hoped it would be. I watch the waves break out before they hit the beach, let my eyes roam out across the wide expanse of water. I sigh and I smile, despite the slight headache that’s setting in behind my eyes.

Even though this whole party thing is totally weird, at least I’ve got this. This moment all to myself, just me and the sea and the stars. I don’t know how much time passes, but enough to make me think I’ve probably been out here long enough.

I start heading back to the house and pause after a few steps. I really don’t want to go back in there. I’ll have to face Noah or Luke and I’m not really ready for either one of them. I’ll have to talk to Barnabe and I’m not sure I’m ready for that either.

I think I’ll just go home, Barnabe’s embargo on my magic be damned. He did that thing where he touched my forehead and calmed me down. I’m sure if there was something really wrong with me, he fixed it then. With one last look back towards the house, I begin to draw on my magic and whisper the teleportation spell.

Several things happen as I finish the incantation. First, I see what looks like Noah stepping off the deck and heading towards the beach. Second, it feels like a white-hot poker sears into my mind. And third, well, there’s that awful wrenching feeling, but this time it’s accompanied by a tearing sound, like something ripping up inside me.

And then I’m standing in my bedroom. Blood pouring from my nose and ears, dripping to the floor and mingling with the sea water running from the ends of my dress. There are red spots in my vision and black spots weaving through them. I lurch to my bed and collapse across it and then everything goes dark.

********

There’s a finality to the darkness around me. And then there isn’t. It’s as simple as that. A small pinprick of light grows in front of me, warming me just enough to make me sit up and flinch. I’m nowhere. Sitting on nothing. Where I am is just … empty.

I watch the light grow and finally have to shield my eyes against it.

“Zoe?”

The voice comes from inside the light. It’s sweet and familiar and I squint, trying to see. The light grows and somehow reminds me of a door or a portal, like it’s a way to get from this place to another. And then I can make out a figure, a small figure, slight and thin, all knees and elbows. She steps towards me and I finally make out who it is.

“Celine.” I rush forward and wrap the little girl in my arms. Never have I been more grateful to see someone.

“Oh, Zoe, what have you done?”

The light continues to grow and expand and I don’t have to squint to see anymore. Celine’s face is so contorted by sadness, I barely recognize her.

“How are you here?” I ask, suddenly terrified that she didn’t actually pass on, that she’s been trapped and alone all this time and I never knew.

“We’re allowed to greet people. As they pass on.” Her face looks stricken and there are tears welling in her eyes and the reality of what she’s just said hits me like a freight train.

“Am I dead?”

“Almost.”

I’m so not ready for this. I’ve got things I’ve never done. Never experienced. Oh, God. I never told Noah I loved him. “I don’t want to die.”

“I don’t want you to. Noah needs you.”

My heart lurches at the sound of his name and I feel this little tug, like I’m growing heavy and it’s hard to stay here. Like I’m going to be pulled out of this nowhere place and end up somewhere else.

Celine’s eyes go wide. “Zoe!” There’s a ferocity in her voice that seems so out of place. “Listen to me. You either come with me, or you go back. All the way back. Don’t think about all the things you wish you could have done because that’s how you’ll end up as a remnant.”

Her words stretch and echo and I don’t want to be a remnant. I’m afraid there’s too much darkness in me and I’ll end up hollow. “What do I do?” I reach for Celine’s hand and her purity is a tangible thing.

“Focus on me. Calm down. You’re the strongest person I know.” There’s a resilience to her that grounds me and I think Celine doesn’t realize just how strong she is herself. I do what she says and the heaviness dissipates. I don’t feel like I’m going anywhere anymore. It’s just her and me in this nowhere place.

“I’ve missed you,” I say and mean it more than words can express. “I dream about you sometimes.”

“I know. I like it when you do. Makes me feel good.”

I sit down and she ambles around behind me, running her hand through my hair the way she used to at the ranch. The light flares and starts to fade and her touch gets lighter and lighter.

“There you go,” she says, her voice soothing and far away. “You’re not ready to be here with me.”

“But I miss you,” I say as if speaking in a dream.

“I’m with you. All the time. You’re my best friend. And Zoe?” Her voice is so quiet and distant that I have to strain to hear what she has to say. “Tell Noah how you feel.”

And then she’s gone and I’m alone and at first there’s just darkness but then there’s pain, too. Terrible pain. Nausea. Dizziness.

I blink. Aware that I’m blinking before I can actually see. I’m stretched across my bed. Blood soaking into the covers, dripping to the floor. Drying in my hair. My head swims and throbs and as much as I’d like to move, there’s no way that’s gonna happen. I make one feeble attempt and the whole world lurches and I lose consciousness.

********

I’m aware of strong hands lifting me from the bed, bits of murmured conversation, all moving too quickly for me to understand. I’m aware of being cleaned up and carried somewhere. Of water splashing gently over my face and neck. Of more murmured conversations and then finally a great rush of magic, sweeping through my bloodstream, healing most of what’s broken. I jolt awake and sit up, eyes wide, chest heaving, heart racing.

I’m on my couch in my living room, still wearing the now ruined ball gown. Noah’s crouched in front of me, his hands on my arm, his magic rolling into me like cleansing water. Luke’s standing just a few feet away, his eyes tinged slightly crimson, his hands clenched into tight fists.

None of us speak for what feels like too long. I study Noah’s face and look for the bits that look like Celine. His hair is dark where hers is light and his face is strong where hers is sweet. But the eyes? They’re the same. And not the same the way his are the same color as mine. Noah’s looks like Celine’s because there’s nothing but kindness and good intentions behind them. They are the eyes of an angel.

“Thank you,” I say looking from his face to Luke.

“What the hell were you thinking?” Luke asks, so much emotion in his voice that I flinch from it. “Do you realize you were dead when we came home? Dead.” He moves to crouch beside Noah and when he puts his hand on my knee, I feel his magic searching for mine and a little surge of panic flares in my belly when I don’t feel the answering rise of my own.

“I know.” What else can I say? “I’m sorry.” Luke makes an exasperated noise and stands up, starts pacing. “I saw Celine,” I say to Noah.

Luke pauses, takes in the way I’m looking at Noah and the way Noah’s looking at me and then leaves the apartment, closing the door quietly behind him.

“He loves you, you know.” Noah’s searching my face.

“No he doesn’t.”

“He really does.”

I stare at the closed door and shake my head. “He’s got a funny way of showing it.”

Noah watches me and says nothing. Pulls his hands from my arms and stands.

“It doesn’t matter, you know,” I say and turn back to him. “It doesn’t matter if Luke loves me.”

“Why not?”

I take a deep breath and look Noah straight in the eyes. “Because I’m in love with you.”

Chapter Fifteen

Even though he just stood up, Noah sits down again. Collapses a little onto the armrest of the couch. He just stares at me and I’m too worn out to even feel nervous. I just stare at him, try to let him see the honesty of my statement and wait for him to say whatever it is that he’s gonna say.