Under Witch Aura (Moon Shadow Series) (17 page)

He might be completely
controlled by
some other woman and compelled to defend her when under her spell,
but I did not care. He was safe inside my house. No one was going to
force him away.

I’d keep his pants if I had
to.

I almost believed
everything was okay,
except that White Feather had decided that Sarah was likely the one
who had been responsible for the sand painting fiasco rather than
Claire.

“Sarah was the witch. She
must
have attempted a sand painting ceremony that blew up in her face,”
he said for perhaps the third time.

It was possible he was
defending
Claire, but that led to tangled, worried thoughts about whether he
was under the influence of the spell she had used in the painting.
Worse, what if he still cared for her, and it had nothing to do with
a spell?

“If Sarah was guilty, why
was she
inside the sand painting? I doubt she willingly offered herself as a
gift to a rogue wind spirit. Claire gave you the painting, and it was
set to bind you. That was not an innocent act.”

“Sarah’s cabin blew up
weeks after Claire gave me the painting. Claire wasn’t a witch
by any stretch of the imagination. She was just a marketing guru who
worked at one of the wind companies I consulted with.”

“So she had a natural
interest in
wind.”

He sighed and relented a
tiny bit.
“There’s definitely something out there. And that
painting she gave me tried to bind me.” He held up his hand
with the ring I had given him. “But whatever she did, whatever
compulsion that sand painting wrought, is gone. The ring is cold. No
push to return home. Or to carry a purse in my car if I go out.”

Cautiously, I touched the
ring. It was
cool to the touch. My shoulders relaxed at least an inch.

He turned his hand up and
captured
mine. We sat that way for several minutes, too tired to keep talking
about it.

“I can’t believe I dated
such a--She didn’t even know about my affinity for wind when we
started dating, and I didn’t tell her much.”

“But she figured it out?”

He ran his hand through his
hair and
sat back. When he stretched his legs, one of them rubbed mine. He
settled with his calf over my ankle. “I never thought twice
about it, but she did ask a lot of questions. We were attacked once
by a couple of thugs in the parking lot after dinner. I took care of
it, obviously.”

I waited impatiently.

He didn't meet my eyes when
he
admitted, “Looking back, she wasn’t very frightened.
Maybe she was even...turned on.”

“You think she set you up?”

“At the time?” He shook
his head. “Whether she set me up or not, she learned about my
affinity for wind. She had an ample demonstration. After that,”
he shrugged, “her interest seemed like healthy curiosity at
first, just a question here and there. But I was done with her after
she started constantly begging for “a little fire” from
my wind.”

He put his elbows on the
table. “But
call a wind spirit? Could she really be that stupid?”

I bit my tongue and
replaced a nasty
comment with one that was more reasonable. “Some kind of ill
wind was at the cabin, and it appears to be either stuck in our world
or happy enough to stay.”

“And homing in on me every
time I
use wind.”

“Not just you. Martin told
me his
stash has been tainted. He recognized an ill wind.” I told him
about Martin and his stones. “The bottom line is that if Claire
or someone else did a sand painting at Sarah's and left the west side
open like the one on the sand painting she gave you--”

“We are seriously screwed,”
he finished.

There was no getting around
the bad
news.

I sighed, ready to suggest
dinner when
he asked, “What if you’re only attracted to me because of
my affinity to wind?

“
What?”

“Like Claire. What if you
think
you’re attracted to me,
but
it’s really only
the wind?”

It was a high insult to
compare me to
Claire in any way shape or form, but the idea was too ridiculous to
take seriously. “If that’s all that’s worrying you,
I’ll just block your power, and then you don’t have to
worry about me being attracted to your power. I assure you it isn’t
your wind that…intrigues me.” I raised a suggestive
eyebrow and looked him up and down, at least the parts I could see.
“Well, it certainly isn’t
all
that intrigues me.
Any woman can see that there is a lot more to you than your ability
to control a breeze here and there.”

He flushed slightly, making
me grin. He
stood abruptly, had to grab at the towel, and then stomped through
the living room. “My pants must be dry by now.”

I just sat and admired the
view.

Right before he ducked down
the
hallway, he turned and caught me staring. “Block my power,”
he muttered.

I smiled and forgot all
about dinner.

The pants probably weren’t
completely dry, but when he reappeared he was dressed anyway. “Can
you really block me completely?”

I shrugged and stood up.
“I’ve
never tried. Your magic isn’t hostile to me, but I block
influences and protect against other magic all the time.” I
thought about a dream catcher, but that was too heavy a blocker.

He raised one eyebrow. “You
make
it sound easy.”

“It should be doable. You
wouldn’t be actively fighting through any defense I mounted.”

“Yes, but if it’s so easy,
why can’t I keep my wind tamped down completely when I’m
around you? Why should it be any easier for you?”

The tiniest bit of current
came across
the room and traveled up my arms. It felt as if he had run his hands
over me. My fingers tingled. My heart tripped and then beat faster
to make up for it.

“Well?” There was a
challenge there. “When I’m near you, I’m barely in
control. You’ll have to have enough control for both of us. If
you block me completely, earth would cover wind. I’d be
invisible.”

Given my distraction, it
took me a
moment to get my brain around the idea. “As in hide you from
whatever might be looking?”

There was a hint of humor
and heat in
his voice. “And according to you it should be easy.”

I knew what was coming and
grounded
just in time. His caress hit in a solid wave that covered my bare
feet and traveled up my entire body. It was suddenly hard to breathe.

The air sparked around us,
a sizzling
electricity that doubled back on itself and strengthened with the
bounce.

I was in my own home where
I was
strongest. I reached for the silver at my wrist, but made the
mistake of looking his way.

He captured my eyes with
his own,
holding the stare while, as silent and efficient as any breeze, he
glided closer, stalking me.

In two steps he had me, his
hands
taking the place of the wind on my arms. He was either trying to hug
me or trying not to hug me. Like a shifting breeze, colors flashed
across his eyes, changing from deep green to hints of brown. “Block
me,” he growled.

It sounded more like a
demand than
seduction, but when he kissed me, it was, hot, heady, and out of
control in seconds.

“Cover the wind,” he
whispered against my lips.

I tried, I really did, but
my instincts
were responding to the man in addition to the magic. He moved his
left hand to my lower back and pulled me close. Instead of thinking
of Mother Earth, I was wishing he hadn’t put his pants on.

He deepened the kiss.

When his tongue touched
mine I forgot
all about grounding. I gasped out, “We might have to, you know,
study this problem a bit.”

He choked on a laugh. “We
may
have crushed Claire’s spell, but I don’t want that thing
finding me again, especially here. I have to stay hidden until
whatever is hunting me either dies or stops on its own.” He
rested his forehead against mine, but then tipped my head back for
another hungry, almost desperate kiss.

I gave as good as I got
until his wind
sparked uncontrollably along my skin.

He groaned. Either to
convince himself
or me, he said, “It’s got my scent. There’s no
point in playing with fire and attracting its attention until I’m
ready to deal with it on my terms.”

Arguing was pointless,
because he was
right. We had to hunt down the hunter, and one way or the other,
White Feather would be free to use his power again.“Okay.”
I gave casual my best shot. “We’ll just take things nice
and slow until we’ve caught the hunter and you’re safe.
I’ll work on a spell to hide your wind.” I couldn't
resist running one hand up his chest and into the curls at the back
of his neck.

“Right.” When the room
didn’t dissolve into an uncontrollable windstorm, he tightened
his embrace, but kept his emotions and wind locked away.

I spent the first part of
the next day
convincing Father Dan to bless four milk jugs filled with water. The
discussion involved a lot of evasion on my part. He was left
wondering if I was running a secret baptism service out of my garage.

Once home, I put pinto
beans on the
stove with a timer and then headed to the lab. Even with the sand
painting destroyed, I was very suspicious that Sarah, the cat, or
both were some kind of conduit for the ill wind.

The wind certainly had a
tendency to
show up where Sarah had been so it seemed wise to set a spell to
block her. I really needed one that would warn me of an ill wind
whether Sarah was involved or not, but other than using heliotrope, I
hadn’t worked out the exact technique.

By the time the beans were
done, I had
decided on a dream catcher as the warning mechanism. A knock at the
door delayed me from starting.

Lynx and Tara were not
entirely
unexpected, but I was surprised at how good Tara looked. She had left
off her pale base makeup. The charcoal on her face was limited to a
single-stroke of black eyeliner and mascara. The stark black
lipstick had been replaced by a dark plum. She still wore black,
including the lace half-gloves that matched her black nail polish.

“White Feather said to stop
by
and set up regular lessons when it’s convenient for you.”

A regular schedule wasn't
all that
feasible considering my eclectic clientele, but I had promised White
Feather I would help. “Now would be okay for a starter lesson.
I was prepping spells to secure the house against ghosts. It'd be a
good time for you to practice protection spells.”

Her eyes slid to Lynx
before she asked,
“Can I use the bathroom to fix my hair and stuff?”

Her hair was already
hairsprayed to
within an inch of its life. Lynx didn’t leave, so I nodded at
Tara. She disappeared down the hall.

Lynx waited until the
bathroom door
clicked shut, and then talked so fast the words were hard to
understand. “Thatbusinesstheotherday, where I—well, I was
just showing off.” His ears twitched and so did his invisible
tail. “I wasn’t even sure I could get in your place, but
I’ve worked with you a long time so it wasn't that hard.”
Pride warred with shame. Shame won. “It won’t happen
again.”

I didn’t ask for more of an
apology. “No, Lynx. It won’t.” Two newly planned
spells would add a twist to the ones already on the door.

He nodded, understanding
what I meant.
The next time he tampered with my door, he had better be prepared for
stronger wards. There was only one way to have a truce when dealing
with a thief. You had to be on guard.

“Okay.” His eyes didn't
roam anywhere near the door or the lock, but a good thief wouldn't
ever show obvious interest in new techniques. “You still taking
the client, the one with the evil eye? He wants to move the meet up.”

I sighed. “When?”

“Tomorrow morning, same
place,
the lodge. I didn’t believe his big emergency at first, but he
showed me. He’s got the evil eye alright. Things growing out of
him, guy looks like…I dunno. He’s got green twigs
sprouting right out of his arm. I pulled one out, smelled it. It’s
real.”

That grossed me out. “That
sounds
like a pretty nasty spell—or a disease, maybe Morgellon’s
Disease?”

Lynx shrugged. “Who’s
Morgellon? She a witch?”

“It’s the name of a disease
that some people say is a spell, some say is an illness. It’s
basically fibers growing out of sores or causes the sensation of bugs
crawling across the skin.”

“He didn’t mention bugs.
Said the witch threw it on him. He wants it gone.”

I frowned. “If she threw it
directly at him, it's a spell, at least it's not the evil eye. I can
probably counteract it. But if it’s medical, I’m no
healer. He might be better off with a witch who can do both.”

“He wants the best.” Lynx
gave me his sly, cat smile. “Them healers, they don’t
like to mess with spells.”

“The spell will wear off,
but the
witch could renew it.” This problem had the potential to be a
large drain on my time. “If the witch knows what soap he uses,
and she put that in the spell every time he uses his soap, it’ll
regenerate the spell.” I tapped my foot, but gave in. “Give
me the details.”

“Same place, just tomorrow.
Meet
at the lodge in the back. I tol' him early morning like you said.”

“Okay, fine.”

“He’s got a real problem.
This could be good business for a while.” Lynx rubbed two
fingers together.

“Yeah, sure.” He wasn’t
the one who had to come up with counter spells for paranoid clients.

Lynx pivoted to leave, but
then stilled
as only he was capable. Slowly, he pointed and edged to one side so I
could see around him. “That cat is just a cat.”

The brown cat sat by the
large juniper
tree. She licked her furry chest a bit.

“I didn't think she was a
shifter,” I said. “But is it
only
a cat and nobody
else parked inside there?” I tapped my own head.