Beyond Your Touch (11 page)

I pushed farther up on my tiptoes, as high as I could, and watched as she unwound a string from the ball. Then she rewrapped it around the flute, creating a narrow band. Once she'd finished looping, she added a couple of long streamers and secured a small green feather onto one of them.

Her lips lifted into a pleased smile that made my mouth go dry from fear. Slowly, she wedged the flute between her thighs as if they were a vice. She picked up a candle and began dribbling wax onto the band of string and massaging it in, the whole time whistling under her breath. The otherworldly sound slithered and surged through the air. A moment later, she set the candle back in its holder and brought the flute to her lips. The wind stilled, the candlelight steadied, and that's when I saw it. The string she'd wound around the flute was not just any string. It was yarn. Blue and green yarn.

Like Chase's Christmas mittens.

Like the yarn he'd given to his mother.

Like the yarn on the coffee table in his living room.

CHAPTER 10

 

—Josette Abrams
Beach Rose House, Bar Harbor, Maine

 

 

M
y head went woozy. I was totally certain. It was the yarn from Chase's coffee table. How had she gotten it? And what had she done? A spell, most likely. Nothing good, I was sure of that.

I blew out a few quick breaths to steady myself, then slipped through the gap in the shrubbery and raced to the door and into the library.

“Ouch,” I said, as I smacked my baby toe into a corner of the leather couch.

The library's overhead lights snapped on.

I froze in place. Shit. I was done for. Once Lotli saw that it was me, she'd guess I'd been spying for sure.

Regaining my brain, I dove down, crouching low next to the couch barely out of sight from the sunroom doors, waiting for her to come out and check to see who or what had made the noise. Maybe she'd miss me. Maybe if she didn't look around very good.

“Hello?” the Professor's hushed voice came from the other side of the sitting area. “Is that you, Lotli? Terribly sorry if the lights disturbed you. I'll just get my book and be off.”

The Professor?

My panic settled a little. If he spotted me, I could say I was on the floor looking for a lost earring or something. Still, he'd start jabbering and then Lotli would hear us talking and come out.

A loud purr reverberated close behind me and something furry rubbed my ankle. Freaking Houdini. Just what I needed.

He clawed my bathrobe a couple of times, then jumped up onto the arm of the couch right above my head and started kneading the leather. Crap. The little monster was going to give away my hiding spot.

The Professor's footsteps padded closer. “Hello? Who's here?”

I belly-crawled behind the couch to stay out of his line of sight, but Houdini sprung onto the couch's back, strutting across it proud as anything, keeping up with me as I moved.

“What are you doing here?” The Professor's voice came from right in front of the couch.

I readied a fake smile and an excuse. Then Houdini mewed. There was a thump and a bang. I could only guess he'd launched himself onto the coffee table and knocked something over.

“Shush, good kitty,” the Professor said. “We don't want to wake up our houseguest. How about you come with me? I have some splendidly foul coffee creamer back in the office. You'll like it.”

The lights overhead went off. But I didn't dare take a peek over the top of the couch until the Professor's footsteps had faded. At the far end of the bookstacks, I could make out the doorway to the archaeology workroom and him heading inside with Houdini in his arms.

Like a pheasant fleeing from a hunter, I flushed from my hiding spot, then sprinted to the library door and into the hallway. It wasn't as silent of an exit as I would have preferred, but hopefully the Professor would assume it was just the sound of another cat taking off.

I fast-walked to the foyer, one hand clamping my bathrobe closed. As much as I wanted to tell Chase what I'd seen and ask if he was missing some yarn or had given it to her, it seemed wiser to talk to Kate first. I mean, Chase was the victim in this case and I had no idea how the spell or whatever it was might have affected him. One good thing was, at least Lotli's medicine bag hadn't appeared to have any direct involvement in the spell. No genie or demonic nature spirit had rushed out of it to lend a hand. Thank goodness.

I dashed up the main stairs. It was probably around six o'clock. Breakfast was at eight. I'd text Kate and ask to meet with her after that or earlier if it worked better for her. That would give me time to get dressed and think through what I was going to say.

Watery light filtered down through the gallery's skylight. I started across the room, but movement and an arch of brightness near Hecate caught my eye. Shit. What the hell was it? Definitely not a shadow-genie.

Swallowing hard, I swiveled toward the statue.

Hecate was illuminated by a ring of votive candles. Kate and Olya knelt in front of the ring with warding bowls in their hands. Salt, crystals, dried herbs: The bowls appeared to contain the same stuff as before.

I lifted my foot, intending to back out of the room without disturbing them, but they both pivoted toward me, their gazes pinpointing mine.

“Just leaving.” I cringed to show how bad I felt for interrupting their ceremony.

With a huff, Kate set her bowl down, got up, and wiped her hands on her slacks. “It's fine. We're finished, at least with what we can do for today.” Her eyes crinkled into a scowl as she studied me. “What have you been doing—skulking around all night in your robe? Clearly, you didn't go too far. But you are disheveled.”

I hurried toward them. “I was about to text you. We need to talk.”

Olya blew out the candles closest to her and got up to join Kate. Her black clothes and the worry lines streaking her forehead made her look even witchier than usual.

“I was ... I went up to the—” I started to tell the story from the beginning, but saying I'd been looking for a used condom really wasn't going to work. “I couldn't sleep, so I went for a walk. I noticed there was light in the sunroom, so—”

Kate cut me off. “Skip the malarkey. You were spying on Lotli and saw something.”

I nodded. “Well, not exactly spying. She was playing her flute. I was—I was going to just listen.” I raked my fingernails down my robe. It was kind of hard to tell them what I'd seen through the window and keep up with the innocent pretense. “She was doing a spell. She tied yarn and a feather onto her flute, and dribbled beeswax over it. It was a green feather.” My heart was pounding so hard I had to take a breath and regroup.

“Hummingbird feathers, especially green ones, release negativity, lift the spirit, and bring joy,” Olya said, sweeping her fingers skyward to accentuate her point. Then her hand dropped. “At least, that's my experience. If I were an Aztec, I might have other beliefs.”

“You don't understand,” I insisted. “It wasn't so much about the feather. The yarn was green and blue—the kind Chase knits with. I think she's doing something to him. She was whistling too. It sounded like a spell.”

Understanding dawned in Kate's eyes. “Yes, Chase. Of course this involves him. And you're such an expert on spells, after all.” Her voice was so sarcastic I wanted to punch her in the mouth. She glanced at Olya, raising an eyebrow like she was passing on a secret. “What kind of spell do you think it could possibly be?”

Olya's lips puckered, holding back a smile. “A love spell, no doubt. Something to steal his heart away.”

Heat blazed across my face. I balled my hands into fists, squeezing hard to keep my frustration from rushing out my mouth. “I never said I was an expert in spells. I thought you should know what I saw. Don't you think it's at all strange that Lotli—a known practitioner of flute-magic—is up at the crack of dawn, with candles, feathers, and yarn that just happens to look like Chase's?”

With a toss of her head, Kate turned back toward Hecate and the warding bowl. “I don't find it in the least bit odd. For one, the poor girl is with strangers in an unfamiliar house. She probably barely slept at all. It seems quite natural to me—and blue yarn is hardly uncommon. Blue: the color of both sky and water. A color for harmony and protection, both of which I suspect she could use right now. Green is equally as understandable, the color of grass and leaves.” She pushed one of the warding bowls forward with a flick of her fingers.

My mind reeled. “What about her always using
we
and
us?
You can't think that isn't strange. It's like she has a split personality or something.” By
something
I meant possessed, but that was a word I couldn't bring myself to say. Not after what Dad had been through.

“Jealousy isn't becoming on any woman, Annie,” Olya said. “You should be grateful. Lotli has offered to go into the djinn realm, to endanger her life to save your mother.”

I scrubbed my hands over my face. I hadn't expected this. They really didn't get it. “She isn't rescuing my mother out of kindness. It's for money—and she didn't have a lot of choice about that.”

Kate jabbed a finger in my direction. “That lack of choice is something worth us getting worked up over. Even a vow made to a mentor comes with reasonable limits. Subserviency is not something our family condones. And, as for her odd speech pattern, did it ever occur to you that this Zea may have required her to use the plural—or that she's not used to speaking English?” Her face softened a little. “I'll take a look at her flute, the yarn, and the other charms. But you have to learn to check yourself. The last thing we need right now is drama.”

“I know that.” I closed my eyes for a second and then opened them. “It's just—Dad taught me to trust my instincts and they aren't sure about her.”

Olya smiled. “That is because you're a woman.”

“What we need you to do,” Kate said, “is stop overthinking and spying. Instead, work on making Lotli feel at home. I would think if anyone would understand how hard her situation is, it would be you.”

I hugged myself. Okay. I guessed I could sympathize with Lotli there. And maybe I'd overreacted to what I'd seen. It wasn't like anything about her or the lifestyle she'd grown up with was normal.

“Here, let me give you something.” Olya reached into the pocket of her raggedy sweater and pulled out a dried sprig of what looked like rosemary. “Put this in your pocket. Whenever you start having dark thoughts about Lotli, rub it between your fingers. It'll help bring out your good energy instead of the negative. You two will be close friends, I'm sure of it.”

“Thank you,” I said, forcing a smile. The sprig not only looked like rosemary, it smelled like it as well. I strongly suspected Olya was plying me with normal psychiatry rather than magic. The way people use an elastic band around their wrist to break themselves out of a bad habit only this involved scrunching dried leaves, which smelled nice and didn't hurt.

Anyway, it wasn't like trying the good-energy thing could hurt. I'd actually only seen Lotli eyeing Chase that first time at the museum.

I scowled a little. And a couple of other times like at her camp, for instance.

But how could I blame her for that? He was damn sweet eye candy.

CHAPTER 11

 

—Susan Freemont

 

 

L
otli wasn't at breakfast, so I didn't get a chance to see if the rosemary trick would actually help. However, soon afterward, Laura asked Selena and me if we would help her out by taking some tea and muffins to the sunroom.

“Sure,” I said. I slid my hand into my pocket and ground some leaves between my fingers. Then, to reinforce the positive vibes, I texted Chase while Laura fixed the tea tray.

He texted right back.

I hoped he'd keep the conversation going, but he didn't. That wasn't strange. He wasn't all that in love with texting or calling to begin with. He was more of an alive-and-in-person guy, which kind of went with the growing up in a realm with magic and no electronics.

I glanced at the phone again. He wasn't the only guy who wasn't responding the way I preferred. Dad still hadn't texted back or even tried to call. I rubbed my neck. That was weird.

When Selena and I got to the sunroom, Lotli was sitting cross-legged on the daybed, braiding her hair. She was wearing a gauzy sundress and smiled at us as we walked in.

“Thought you might like some tea.” Selena set the teapot on a table next to the daybed. “It's peppermint. We weren't sure if you did caffeine or not.”

I did the same with the tray I was carrying. “Did you sleep okay?” I was surprised by how friendly I managed to sound.

Lotli stretched her legs. “Yes. Once we opened the windows, we rested quite peacefully.”

Yeah, right. You were sound asleep—all night long.
I crammed my hand into my pocket, crushing the rosemary. I had to stop thinking like this or I'd drive myself nuts. There was no reason to assume she hadn't slept well and didn't normally get up at dawn. I'd seen a lot of sunrises myself, lately.

She poured herself a cup of tea. “You shouldn't have gone through all this trouble. We could have gotten it ourselves.”

“It wasn't any bother,” Selena said. “After you eat, maybe you'd like to take a walk. I can show you the solarium and gardens.. . .”

While Selena told Lotli about the grounds and the house, I caught myself scanning Lotli's personal stuff: her clothes piled on a chair, her little medicine bag and other necklaces draped over a lamp, the candles scattered about in their dribble-coated holders. It hadn't taken her long to transform the room into her own. And she'd sure managed to cram a lot into one backpack.

My gaze went to the pillow on the end of her bed. The flute was partly tucked under it. A green feather, blue and green yarn, just like I'd thought. There were a couple of crystals encased in gold wire, a shell, and some metal charms attached to it.

“Do you wish to see it?” Lotli said.

It took me half a second to realize she was talking to me. “I—I was thinking about my dad and the flute they went to get,” I stuttered, then regained my composure. “What's yours made out of? The one they're getting was created from the femur of a cave bear. It's really ancient.”

She set down her teacup and picked up the flute, her eyes glistening as one hand stroked down its length. “This one is from a bird.” She held it out to me.

The flute was lighter than I'd expected. The bobbles dangled between my fingers as I cradled it in two hands. Some of the decorations appeared to be old, others as new as the blue and green yarn. I couldn't begin to guess the age of the flute itself. Sure, I'd examined tons of antiques and historical artifacts, but the age of bone wasn't easy to tell by looking and the only bone flute I'd ever really paid attention to was the one I'd looked at yesterday. On top of that, most of this flute was covered in layers of waxy thread and yarn, a lot of it once brightly colored but now faded from use and time.

“It's gorgeous. Did you make it?” I asked.

“It was our grandmother's. The charms are keepsakes of ours.”

Her eyes burrowed into mine, looking deep as if she were trying to read my thoughts. I clenched my jaw and didn't break her gaze. When it came to her, I wasn't certain about much. But I didn't feel the squirm of a living spell or even a prickle of intuition or anything to say she was capable of any more than reading body language, like me. That is, without the aid of her flute. Of course, I didn't feel anything around Selena or Olya or anyone else, either.

I handed the flute back to her. “Having it must be a great comfort, living like you do away from your family.”

“It is,” she said. Still not breaking eye contact, she added, “In truth, we did not sleep that well last night. We kept thinking about your mother, trapped in that horrific place. Chase brought us some yarn, so we could add another charm especially for her. We always add something when we help a person cross, but this time it is more special since she is coming home to her loved ones instead of leaving.”

“Oh.” It was all I could do to not let my shock show on my face. I certainly hadn't expected her to say that. Chase had been with her, but the reason behind it had centered on my mother. “That was really nice of you.”

She slid one of the yarn streamers through her fingers, showing me a tiny silver charm attached to the end of it. “Chase said your mother loved the ocean, so we added a silver starfish for her.”

The charm glittered in the morning sun. For a moment I could only stare as a memory crashed over me: The chill of the ocean against my legs as I tilted the jar and poured what I believed were Mother's ashes into the water. I'd bowed my head in respect and watched them ride the waves, washing over a starfish, over stones and sand and shells, as the tide drew them into deeper water.

I blinked back tears. “It's beyond perfect.”

“Pretty, too.” Selena's voice was a bit loud and I suspected she felt left out.

Lotli set the flute back beside her pillow. She picked up her teacup and emptied it in one long, noiseless sip. “That hit the spot, but we are going to save the rest of the pot for later.” She set the cup down, stretched her arms, and yawned. “What we would love more than anything is a swim. It is the most delicious way to start a morning.”

“More like a good way to turn into a Popsicle.” Selena shuddered. “But I'll be glad to show you the beach.”

“Wonderful, we'll put on our suit.” Lotli swept to her feet and snaked a one-piece from her pile of clothes. I was kind of shocked to see she even wore one and more surprised when she modestly left for the library bathroom to get changed.

As soon as the sound of the bathroom door shutting echoed across the library, Selena's gaze whipped toward me. “I know what you're thinking about last night, Chase and the yarn, alone with her—and forget it.”

“That wasn't what I was thinking.” I grimaced. “Okay, I didn't trust her. But then she started talking about the starfish charm.” I took a sharp breath and held it for a second. But instead of giving me time to regain my cool, it gave my mind time to get past Lotli's nice gesture and for my anger to rise. “Chase told me he was going to sleep. Then he gets up and visits her in the middle of the night? Maybe he's innocent, but I have a hard time believing her motive was purely altruistic.”

“You're overthinking. Sure, she was lonely. He was around. They talked.”

“It's just—” I hesitated, trying to decide if I should confess that I'd spied on Lotli and what I'd seen or if that would only make me sound more like a jealous nut.

“Just nothing.” Selena folded her arms across her chest. “Girlfriend, I have a man who goes away to college. He could be hooking up whenever he wants. Do I worry? No. You want to know why?” Her arms unfolded and her lips shifted into a smug smile. “It's because when he's with me, I take good care of him.”

“That's not the problem,” I said sharply. At least it hadn't been before very recently.

She tossed her hair back. “You may not think so. But if you're going to go green-eyed monster every time some girl looks twice at him, then it's you who needs more security. The best way to get that is to make sure his head's so full of you that there's no room for anything else. Try something different—real kinky. That'll hook him solid.”

“You're probably right,” I said, though she really didn't get it at all.

And, unfortunately, her theory of leaving no room in his head for other things and driving his testosterone to new heights also reinforced Chase's argument that he needed things to cool down so he could stay calm and focused. But if I was a problem he needed to avoid, then what did that make Lotli?

* * *

I didn't go to the beach. Instead, I put on my sneakers and took off on a hike. Chase and Tibbs were mending fence and I had a pretty good idea where.

I strode past the garage and up the hill to the family cemetery. As I followed a sheep-worn path that wound between the headstones, I scrunched the last of the rosemary sprig into dust. I should have used it instead of getting sharp with Selena. On the other hand, Olya probably should have given me a truckload of the stuff.

Overhead the sun blazed and sweat stuck my shirt to my back. Despite my hurry, it was impossible not to slow and glance at the familiar names carved into the gravestones, names of ancestors my dad had told me a zillion stories about. When I came to the stone with my mother's name on it, I stopped. Her birthday. Her death date. I was kind of surprised Dad hadn't already had the second date removed, now that we knew she had been kidnapped by Malphic, not killed in a freak accident like we'd assumed.

I scraped the rosemary dust from my pocket and sprinkled it across the stone, thinking about how my dad's love for my mom had consumed him, how he acted like there was no other woman in the world for him. Rosemary stood for remembrance. I didn't have to be a witch to know that. And I didn't need to be a witch or a flute-magic practitioner to know how overjoyed Dad would be once she got home. I'd be happy too.

A sick feeling tumbled in my stomach. If only I hadn't lied to Grandmother about Malphic's visits, then Dad wouldn't have had to be alone for so many years.

I wiped a drizzle of sweat from my face and turned from the stone, hiking toward the mausoleum. From there, I spotted Chase, Tibbs, and Zachary down the other side of the hill near the sheep barn, loading broken fence posts and tools into the back of the estate's old pickup truck. The sheep, every last one of them black, watched from the barn's shady side.

As I approached, Chase glanced in my direction before anyone else. Our eyes met, and it was like time stopped and the world closed in around us. All I could see was him, standing there in his low-slung jeans and sleeveless tee, glistening with sweat.

An ache seized my chest and, more than anything, I wanted to run my hands up his arms, feel his hot skin and taut muscles, the stubble of his dark beard, the crinkle of his smile lines. I wanted to press my fingertips against his parted lips, taste his breath, taste his skin . . . My breath crushed from my throat and I gasped from the power of the desire rolling through me.

He looked away and went back to work, closing the pickup's tailgate and saying something to Tibbs. And my heart sank from the weight of his absence. I wanted Mom rescued. I wanted him and Dad to be safe. I wanted to right my wrongs. But I wanted to be with Chase, too.

The sheep noticed me next and Zachary spun around to see what they were looking at. “Hey, it's Annie!” he shouted, waving up at me.

I loped down to them. “Looks like you guys are almost finished,” I said.

Tibbs took off his cap and smiled at me. “Yup, the fence is as good as new. No more escaping for those curly-haired bastards.”

Chase grabbed a bottle of water out of the back of the truck. As he opened it, his gaze flicked to me, then Tibbs. “I'm going to take off. Catch a shower and something to eat.” With that said, he headed for the barn.

Zachary glanced after him. “We're still having a bonfire tonight, right?” he shouted.

Without turning around, Chase waved. “Sure thing, buddy.”

Tibbs shoved his cap in his hip pocket. “Zach, you mind running back and getting the sledgehammer for me? I left it near the stone pile.”

“No problem,” he said, taking off up the fence line.

Once he was out of sight, Tibbs gave me a puzzled look and nodded to where Chase was vanishing down the path toward the cottage. “What gives?”

I shrugged. “With everything going on we're cooling it a little. I guess.”

“I'm guessing that wasn't your idea?”

“I don't know. It's probably smart. It's just—” I sighed.

Tibbs gave me an understanding nod. “Don't worry about it. Chase is—well, he's never had a relationship like this before. He'll come around.”

“This isn't about that.”

“It's probably more about that than you think, Annie. He spent most of his life in conditions we can't begin to imagine. He's a nice guy, but he's got scars—and I'm not talking about the kind you get from fighting.”

My chest once again went heavy. “It's hard to believe he's willing to go back there.”