Illicit Magic (15 page)

Marc and I took the two remaining seats, next to each other and he held my chair while I sat, before sliding into his chair and taking a plate from Meg who was serving. She ladled a huge helping onto my plate and I inhaled the delicious fresh meat sauce and bubbling, cheese topping. I checked to see if everyone else was eating the garlic bread before I took a slice, because I didn’t want to be the one that everyone avoided later. That would make life as the new girl awkward; not that I wasn’t used to that
. Perhaps it was time to turn a new leaf,
I hoped and the idea of making friends gave me a little surge of warmth.

Having filled everyone’s plates, Meg was busily filling glasses and handing out mugs of steaming coffee.

“How do you like the house, Stella?” she asked, setting a cup at my right hand and pointing to the sugar bowl.

I swallowed my mouthful of lasagne. “It’s beautiful.”

Meg beamed. “Why, thank you. My family have owned it for going on one-hundred-and-fifty years now. Thankfully, it’s a lot more modern now due to the more recent additions.” She poured coffee into Marc’s cup until the pot was almost drained then walked back across the kitchen to put it by the sink. For an old lady, she walked lightly with uncharacteristic grace. “It’s too big for just me though, so, once again, I’m very happy to have you all here.”

Her words were met with hearty endorsement and I joined in as the glasses were held aloft in toast to Meg and clinked together. She flapped her hands at us to stop, but I could tell she was a little thrilled. The joviality quickly subsided as the food was devoured. I vacuumed up my helping and accepted a small second, not too worried whether I was coming across as piggish. I was hungry, tired, and mentally over stimulated with all the changes in my life. I felt good and ready to fall asleep for a very long time rather than resuming the series of catnaps I’d been relegated to. I refused the ice cream dessert and Kitty proposed watching a film which led to a long discussion over choices.

“Practical Magic,” suggested Christy but her sister, Clara, shivered and replied, “Don’t you remember the time that Gran accidentally brought that dead guy back to life? Too close for comfort.”
I was so not going to ask about that.

“Something less realistic then,” said Meg, her mouth twitching into the barest smile.

“Mission Impossible?” suggested Jared.

“I’ve watched it five times and I still don’t get it. How did Ethan piece it all together?” I asked before clamping my mouth shut. I’d forgotten myself; maybe they didn’t want the newbie’s input.

“Ugh, me too,” sighed Kitty, putting my fears to rest. “And don’t get me started on two and three.”

“The singing Buffy episode? I have the score so we can sing along,” said Clara and I guessed the boxset on the shelf must have been hers. Her enthusiasm was quashed quickly with a chorus of groans.

Eventually, a new comedy release was not so much agreed upon, as not entirely rejected by the table, with Evan shrugging his shoulders in a “don’t care” way. He had barely said anything throughout the meal but I’d seen him shoot a glance in my direction when he thought I wasn’t looking.

“Can I help you clear away?” I asked Meg.

“Thank you, dear. If you’ll just stack the plates in the dishwasher, well, that will do nicely.”

I was glad to have a job to do to save me feeling out of place and Kitty quickly joined me in clearing the table as Meg foiled the leftovers.

“So, you and Marc?” said Kitty when there was just the two of us left. She wasn’t as chipper as she had been earlier and I wondered if she had had a long day too. “What’s going on between you?”

“Marc and me?” I replied sounding like an echo.
Maybe Evan had said something about us being curled up together in my room?
I opened the dishwasher and stooped to stack it. “There’s nothing between us. We only met a few days ago.”

“Oh, I thought you two might have been ... dating or something.”

“No. He’s nice and I like him. He’s attractive but we’re not dating.” I rolled a scenario through my mind. I liked him and trusted him and he would make a good boyfriend, I decided. Not that I was looking for one. I blushed as I remembered the kiss.
The very nice kiss
.

“I see.” Kitty gave herself a shake and went to retrieve the glassware from the table. “Do you want to, you know, date him?”

“I don’t know.” I was getting a little uncomfortable with being grilled about a man I barely knew by a woman I’d just met, even though I’d already had Kitty pegged as forthright. “I haven’t really thought about it. I don’t even know if he’s dating anyone.”

“He isn’t.” Kitty’s voice was quiet and I looked up at her from where I was stacking the last plate.
Ahh. Maybe Kitty had a thing for Marc
.

“Anyway, I’m not really that into dating,” I said quickly to fill the silence. That was technically true anyway. My last date had been months ago and I’d soon decided I’d rather not bother if that was what was on offer.

“Have you known each other for a long time?”

“Forever practically. We grew up together, went to the same school. My family knows his, yada, yada.”

Étoile ducked her head around the door. She had a small plastic folder she held to her chest. “If you’re finished, Stella, I need to go over a couple of things with you. I’ll be quick. I’m sure you want to chill out with the movie too, get to know everyone a little better.”

Kitty waved me away. I wiped my hands on a kitchen cloth and sat at the table with Étoile. She opened the folder and spread a few things out. “I know you have a British driver’s licence but you can’t use it long term here, so here’s your American one.” She pushed it towards me – my picture was already on it.

“How did you get this?”

Étoile shrugged. “That’s not important. We closed your bank account and transferred the money into a new account for you. There’s your card and statement.”

I looked at it and raised my eyebrows. The figure on the opening balance was far higher than what I had in my current checking and savings combined.
Like, ridiculously high.
“There must have been a mistake.”

“No mistake. Steven transferred cash from your parents’ estate. He said there was a letter in the stuff he gave you explaining everything.”

I recalled the letter. I hadn’t read it yet and made up my mind to open it later.

“They can’t have left me this much.”

“They did and Steven has looked after their assets so it’s all yours.”

I traced my name in the little letters on the card. “I thought I wasn’t supposed to have anything traceable.”

“From your old life, yes, but this is new and the things we set up ... well, you won’t have a problem. You can start your life afresh.”

“Friends in high places?”

“Something like that.” Étoile was offhand. “You already have your passport so I think that’s it.”

“What do I tell people? I don’t have an American accent.”

“The truth should suffice if you stick to the facts. You had an American dad, he died early and you grew up in England and now you’re trying out life here.” It sounded so neat and succinct the way Étoile explained and I nodded. Étoile slipped the cards and paper back into the folder and pushed it over to me. “Now we’re done with that little business, we’ve got film night to look forward to. I didn’t vote for it, so if it’s terrible, you can’t blame me. Come on.”

The sofas were fully occupied when we joined the rest of the household, so we pulled floor cushions and nestled on the floor. I stretched out my legs and leaned against the arm of Kitty’s armchair and she patted me on the head like a favoured pet while David fiddled with the DVD player and the opening credits loomed on the screen.

Whether my companions were lost in the film or in their own thoughts, I couldn’t tell but it did give me the opportunity to look over them. When I looked at Evan, careful to barely adjust my head, I found him already observing me and I held his gaze a long moment before he returned to the book he had opened. He seemed to have been searching my face, though I couldn’t decipher what for, but I noticed he didn’t turn the page for some time even though he seemed lost in concentration.

When I looked away, I saw Marc was watching me too, so I gave him a little smile and refocused my eyes on the screen, though my thoughts were on Evan. I couldn’t help wondering what he might have to teach me, and why I had been lumped with him when he seemed so openly hostile to me.

I knew one thing though.

I was desperate to learn. As much as I appreciated everything that was being done for me, I wanted my life and I wasn’t prepared to just be kept indefinitely. The only way I was going to get some semblance of my life back – it was clear to me now – was to be able to control my magic.

SIX

If I thought I would get any time to acclimate myself to my new home I was wrong. My first lessons started with a rude awakening from several thumps on my door as Kitty called to me, giving me a scant few minutes to drag on jeans and a strappy top before scampering down the stairs. I had just enough time to grab a muffin and the last of the coffee and stuff them down my throat just as Evan appeared in the kitchen doorway.

“We’ll head into the library,” he muttered, signalling that I was to follow, without greeting anyone else.

Behind his retreating back, Kitty pulled a face and I stifled a giggle as I scrambled after him.

I’d passed the library several times since my brief tour but never paused to look inside so I was surprised to find it not at all stuffy. Instead, the room was large and airy, every wall covered with white shelves holding hundreds of books. Some were old and well-thumbed with creased spines, others newer purchases; all of them covering a myriad of subjects. There were some easy chairs and side tables with lamps spread around. It was a lovely room.

“I hadn’t thought magic would be all about book learning,” I said, scanning the spines for familiar titles.

“It isn’t. In fact, ignore the books entirely.” Evan waved a hand dismissively at the groaning shelves. “Unless you want to pick up something to read later in your free time.”

“So, how do I learn?” I frowned.

“It’s not like a class, Stella. I don’t give you a textbook that we work through. You’ll learn as we go along and we’ll adapt as appropriate. Show me what you can do.”

“What do you mean?”

“You must be able to do something.” Evan paused and waited for me to jump in; then, exasperated, prompted me with a flick of his hand and raised eyebrows, “Something magic?”

“I can move myself,” I replied cautiously.

“How?”

“I don’t know! I’m in one place, and then I just ... vanish and end up somewhere else.”

“Show me.”

I took a deep breath and thought about being somewhere else. I closed my eyes and waited. I waited for the tingling and crackling in the air and the powerful burst of energy that signified me flitting out of the world. After a minute, when the feeling didn’t come, I opened my eyes and looked around. I was still in the library and Evan was looking perplexed. I felt like I had just lied on my résumé and been called on it in an interview. I heaved a sigh of disappointment. This was not going to be easy.

“One of two things happened there,” said Evan and I looked at him hopefully. “You either went and came back so fast that I didn’t notice or, nothing happened.”

I rolled my eyes petulantly. His sarcasm was so funny.
Not.

“Try again.”

I tried again… and again, for the next thirty minutes. I tried with my eyes open and with my eyes closed. I tried holding my breath and I tried breathing deeply. I tried until I gave myself a headache. Evan stood in front of me, his arms folded across his chest, the entire time.

“Okay. Let’s leave that a while.”

“I’ve never really focused on doing it before. It just seemed to happen,” I practically tripped over my tongue to explain, feeling a little like I had just failed a test.
Maybe I wouldn’t get my witch hat now?
I guessed I would get over that.

“Tell me about the times you’ve moved before.” Evan signalled to a chair and we sat facing each other. I rested my chin on my hands and my elbows on my knees as I thought about it.

“I think it happened more often when I was younger. My foster parents were always saying that I was a really fast runner when they couldn’t work out how I had gotten past them, but I think I must have just moved myself. When I was a teenager, if I ended up some place different, I just thought I hadn’t remembered. You know, like walking along thinking about something else and you look up and think, hey, how did I get here?” I looked to Evan to see if he understood and he nodded so I continued. “When I was older, it really only happened when I panicked and that’s when I knew I was different and it wasn’t just because I wasn’t paying attention. There was a fire once and I should have been trapped, but I moved myself outside. And one time with my boss, well, a bookcase tipped over and I should have been under it too but I wasn’t. Then, last week, when I was being chased?” I gulped and fought the panic that clamoured in my ribcage. “He had me by the throat and I just vanished.”

Evan chewed on that and then asked, “The bookcase just tipped over, huh?”

I frowned. “Well, I was thinking that it would be great if it did tip over and... it did.”

“So you might be able to move things too?”

“I...”
Well, yeah,
I thought, wondering why the idea made me feel so glum. I knew it had been me but the idea of being able to do that kind of stuff at will? It excited and frightened me all at the same time.

“It’s called telekinesis. Instead of moving yourself, teleportation if you like, telekinesis means you can move objects with your mind.”

I thought about it. There had been a lot of unexplained things happening around me that couldn’t be put down to coincidence. It wasn’t out of the realm of possibility. “Well, maybe, but I’ve never really tried. I guess it might be that.” I looked up at him to see how he was taking it. A normal person would be laughing at me by now. Evan’s thoughtful face was refreshing. He didn’t think I was nuts.