The Trouble With Spells (17 page)

He sighed, getting
up to pace the room.

“I’m not a good
person, Portia. I’m naturally drawn toward things that aren’t good for me to do.
My connection with dark magic and its elements has never been completely
removed, and it’s an attraction I fight every minute to overcome. I think
having a physical relationship with you, outside of marriage, is something I’m
drawn to because it’s considered a taboo thing to do. There’s always this part
of me that wants to do everything rough and wild. I want to be completely out
of control, throwing all caution to the wind.” He turned to look at me, making
sure I could see the power of what he was trying to tell me in his eyes.

“I want this
physical relationship with you, badly. It’s to the point I feel consumed by it
at times. But I worry if I were to give into it, bypassing the goal I’ve set
for myself, it would start me down a path I’ve been trying very hard to avoid. And
trust me, Portia, when I tell you … once I cross this line with you, there’ll
be no going back for me. I won’t be able to stop.”

The heat of his
words began to sink in and I felt overwhelmed. He moved over next to me.

“I can’t get past
the fact that I’m the terrible one in this relationship. It’s me that could
destroy everything—everything I really love, and everything you love too. I’d
never be able to forgive myself.” He lifted his hand and ran his fingers
through my hair.

“That’s exactly
why I believe in you,” I replied. “You love us, and I think you’ll honor your
vows because of that.”

“I hope you’re
right,” he said, moving away from me to sit dejectedly on the end of the bed. I
crawled up behind him, wrapping my arms around him and hugging tightly.

“What you did
tonight was proof. You stopped something you didn’t want to stop, and that
takes a lot of control, Vance. Give yourself credit where credit is due.”

He leaned his head
against mine and patted my arm.

“Thanks for
understanding.” I could still feel the mental struggle he was having with
everything. “It’s so hard for me to stay away from you. You honestly have no
idea what I’ve gone through over this.”

I kicked myself
for causing him more stress. “I’ll try to be more helpful from now on too.”

“Let’s get some
sleep,” he replied suddenly, cutting the conversation off by standing up and
walking over to the head of the bed. “Come get under the covers, my little
vixen, so I can tuck you in properly.”

I smiled a little,
but did as he asked, and when he lay next to me this time, he stuck a pillow
and the quilt in between us. He still reached over and grabbed my hand though.

“Sorry, but I
think just a little hand-holding will be more appropriate for the rest of the
night,” he said, smiling.

Jinx seemed to sense
the tension also and settled on the pillow in between us. I laughed lightly at
this before I rolled onto my side to face Vance. I closed my eyes as the pad of
his thumb stroked repeatedly over my hand, lulling me into relaxation along
with Jinx’s purring. My body melted into the pillow and bedding, and I was
right on the verge of sleep when I heard his last conscious thought run through
his head.

“I almost didn’t
stop, Portia,” he confessed. “I wanted it all.”

Chapter 12

I took extreme
care in the days following our little incident in how I conducted myself around
Vance. I found myself dressing as modestly as possible, covering any exposed
skin that could be construed as seductive, and I also paid special attention to
how I touched or kissed him. I only held his hand now, instead of running my
hand down his arms or over his chest, and when we kissed I was careful to keep
it chaste and pure, pulling away before things could get too intense.

I assumed the
things I was doing were helping him, since he didn’t bring anything up with me
about it, and life seemed to progress forward as usual.

On this particular
evening we were sitting on my bed, working on some of our homework. I snapped
my math book closed when I was finished, using a little magic to float it over
and neatly place it on my desk.

“Hey, I’m getting
ready for bed now,” I said, placing a tiny peck on his cheek. He hardly
acknowledged me, giving a little grunt as he continued to work on his English
homework.

I went to my
dresser, lifting the shopping bag which contained the things I’d purchased
today after school, and went into my adjoining bathroom to change. I took out
the thick flannel pajamas that were a size too large for me, and covered in
bunnies, looking at the childish design. They’d even come with a pair of bunny
slippers.

After quickly
dressing, I shoved my feet into the slippers, turning to check my reflection in
the dressing mirror on the back of the door.

The image was
totally what I was going for—completely unflattering and very unattractive. I
couldn’t even make out my shape underneath, so I figured it should be okay to
wear around Vance.

I pulled all my
hair back from my face, twisting it into a tousled bun on the top of my head,
before I washed off what little make up I was wearing and brushed my teeth.

Checking the
mirror one more time, I assured myself I looked positively wretched, and then I
opened the door to step out.

Vance had
apparently finished his homework during my absence and was lying stretched out
on my bed. He was resting with his arms behind his head, his legs drawn out
with his feet crossed at the ankles, and he was staring up at the ceiling,
looking completely lost in thought.

He glanced over in
my direction momentarily when I walked out of the bathroom, before averting his
gaze back to his study of the ceiling.

I smiled to myself.
Success, I thought. He barely looked at me.

“It isn’t working,
you know?” his voice interrupted my thoughts.

“Hmmm?” I
questioned, lifting my eyebrows and pursing my lips.

“The clothes—those
horrible things you’ve been wearing. Shirts up to your chin, pants down to your
ankles, the bad hairdos, the quick kisses and hugs, none of it’s working.”

“What do you
mean?” I was trying to appear as innocent as possible.

He sat up
suddenly, getting off the bed and striding over to me. He grabbed both of my
arms and yanked me roughly against him.

“I mean it isn’t
working,” he said, his voice low and seductive. His face was so close to mine
his lips brushed across my forehead when he spoke. “You’re trying to help, and
you’re making it worse.”

I was paralyzed. I
couldn’t have moved if I wanted to.

“When you wear
your hair like this, I just want to rip it down so I can run my fingers through
it.” Without him moving a muscle I felt the magic emanating from him. Instantly,
my hair was released from its bonds, falling to cascade down around my face. He
moved his hands up my body until he reached my face and then slid his fingers
up to tangle into it. He grabbed a couple of fistfuls, pulling back on it,
causing my face to angle up toward his.

“And your
clothes,” he continued, sighing in exasperation with a slight shake of his head.
“Let’s not even discuss what I’d like to do with those.”

He closed his eyes
for a minute, and I could feel him trying to regain his control. He took a deep
breath, but when he opened his eyes I could still see the intensity burning
through them.

“You just don’t
get it, do you? I could be blind, and you’d still attract me the same way. Your
blood sings to me as it races through your veins. I feel every increase in the
rhythm of your heart, every catch in your breath, and sometimes even every
thought meandering through that silly little noggin of yours.”

I was speechless,
captivated, not knowing what to say, so I just stood there drowning in the blue
pools of his eyes.

“Don’t hold
yourself back from me, Portia. It doesn’t help. It only makes it worse because
then I crave you even more.” His eyes searched deep into mine. “Do you
understand?”

I nodded a little
woodenly, and bit the corner of my lip. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize. I thought
I was help….”

“Enough talking,”
he growled, cutting me off. “Just kiss me already.”

I wrapped my arms
around his neck and reached up to his mouth. He met me halfway in a crushing
grasp. He kissed me hotly, longingly, until neither of us could breathe
properly anymore, and even then he didn’t stop.

My lungs began to
ache. They felt as if they were on fire, but I couldn’t let go. My pulse was
racing at a fevered pitch, matching his beat for beat until he finally released
me all at once, taking a step back from me, and I fell to the floor.

I sat up,
confused.

He reached a hand
out to me, a look of concern passing briefly over his face. “Are you okay?”

“Were we…
floating?” I asked, suddenly noticing his feet were a few inches off the floor.

“Sorry. I thought
you knew,” he said apologetically, stepping back onto the ground. “I wouldn’t
have let go so abruptly.”

“We were actually
levitating?” I asked again, my voice sounding uncertain.

“Haven’t you ever
heard witches can fly?” He chuckled, sounding a little bit like he was teasing
me, but I couldn’t tell for sure.

“Seriously? I
thought that was like some broomstick legend,” I replied, trying to grasp what
he was telling me.

“Well, there’s
some truth to the rumors, although they may not be completely accurate. Care to
go do a little bit of experimentation with me?” He grinned.

“Sure.” I glanced
quickly down to my attire. “Do I need to change though?”

“Don’t worry about
it.” He waved his hand in dismissal. “The bunnies are starting to grow on me.”

He took me over to
the window and jumped easily down to the ground before turning and gesturing
for me to do the same.

“Think light on
your feet,” he called softly to me, keeping his voice low in the quiet night
air.

I did think light
and found I landed quite easily on my feet. Not at all the sort of impact I
would’ve expected.

We went out to his
motorcycle and hopped on. I cringed a bit at the loud sound it made when he
started it up. He turned left when we reached the highway, and to my surprise
he took me to the football field at the high school.

“We need some
space to work with,” he explained to me while he helped me off the bike.

“What if someone
sees us?” I asked nervously.

“Don’t worry. It’s
late and the lights are off, so we should be fine,” he replied, after a quick
glance around.

He took my hand
and led me down through the gate at the top of the guest side stands, and out
into the middle of the field.

“Okay. So using
this power is more about levitation than flying really. Witches don’t actually soar
over the moon on their broomsticks. It sure would save on airfare if we could
though.” He laughed slightly, reaching his hand out and pulling me toward him
once more.

“I want you to
kiss me like you did before, only this time I want you to think about feeling
as light as air while you’re doing it. Don’t worry, I won’t let go this time.”

I happily did as
he instructed. Kissing him was so easy. However, I soon found I was totally
wrapped up in the kiss, forgetting about why he was doing this. He pulled away
from me once again, only this time he continued to hold me around the waist.

I looked around
curiously to find we were indeed floating about two feet in the air.

“Can you center
your emotions on the feeling running through you right now?” he asked.

I searched for my
center and then nodded.

“Okay then. I’m
going to let go now,” he warned. He loosened his grip, and he took a step back,
releasing me. I continued to float in the air beside him.

“This is awesome!”
I said in amazement, looking all around myself.

“All right, now I
want you to take a step toward me.”

I did, and he
backed away a step, so I took another step toward him. He moved back again. I
noticed we descended a little bit with each step we took, until finally we were
back on the ground.

“Why did we
lower?” I asked. “I didn’t feel as though I was consciously doing it.”

“We’re still bound
by the laws of gravity. I guess you can say we’re bending the laws a little. That’s
why a witch can’t actually fly away on a broomstick. You could make a
broomstick levitate and you could hop onto it. But every movement you take
would bring you closer to the earth again, making it kind of a poor choice of
transportation.” He laughed, and so did I at the image he’d created.

“So what good is
levitating then, other than being for fun?”

“Well, it’s useful
for standing outside someone’s window,” he said with a chuckle and a wink.

I laughed again.

“It’s also good
for combat maneuvers
,
if we needed to protect ourselves,” he added.

“Show me,” I said,
settling down onto the field.

“For instance,
running and jumping. You can do things higher, farther, and faster. Hang on. I
have an idea.” He started to run off the field. “Be right back,” he called over
his shoulder.

He returned a
couple of minutes later, holding a football in his hands.

“I’m going to go
downfield,” he said, tossing me the football. “I want you to throw this to me
as hard as you can when I tell you to.”

I nodded, and he
ran off in the other direction.

“Any time,” he
yelled back to me.

I took the
football and threw it hard, straight at him.

He ran toward the
ball, and suddenly it was like he was climbing a staircase I couldn’t see. He
caught the ball easily in mid-air, flew into a somersault
,
and ran a few
steps before descending back down to the ground.