match.â
Al took the still-hot crucible up in his bare hand. âYouâre missing the point, itchy witch,â he said, tossing the entire thing into the fire. âOnce you know a personâs aura, you simply tune yours to it as if it was a ley line and pop in.â
He was smiling with a wicked gleam in his eye, and I sat up, seeing the beauty in it. âThatâs how you always find me,â I said, and his devious expression blanked.
âStop!â he said, hand up. âDonât even think to try it. You or your gargoyle donât have the sophistication to differentiate between auratic shades to that degree. Line jumping is one thing, jumping to an aura is something else. Itâs like saying the sunset is red when itâs thousands of shades.â
I could see his point, but hell, I knew Ivyâs aura pretty well. And Jenksâs.
âStudent!â I started as his hand hit the table inches from me, and irate, I looked up. âWhat did I say?â he asked, leaning over me, his smile nasty.
âNot to think about it,â I said calmly, but I was, and he knew it.
Back hunched, he spun away. âFine,â he grumbled. âGo ahead and burn another line into existence. Let me draw up the papers to annul our relationship first. Iâm not paying for another one of your life lessons . Have you seen my insurance premiums? My God, youâre more expensive than a seventeen-year-old working on his third car.â
I had precious little ever-after income from my tulpa at Dallianceâwhich went to Al, incidentallyâbut heâd never mentioned insurance before now, meaning it had to be embarrassingly costly. âIâm not thinking about it,â I said softly, and he looked at me over his shoulder, slowly spinning to gather the rest of the spelling equipment and lovingly set each precious piece back in its proper spot.
âSo if the ball wasnât an assassination attempt and I did the diversion charm correctly, then why did it misfire?â I asked as he slid the curse book away and locked the cabinet.
âIt didnât.â He slid the key into a pocket, and I felt a tweak on my awareness as the little bump of fabric vanished. âIt was overstimulated, not misfired.â
My lips pursed as I saw the news reports in a new way. Not misfired, but overpowered? âBut Iâm better than that!â I protested.
His back was to me, and he lined his chalk up with the rest. âYes, you are.â
It was a soft murmur, and I crouched before the fire to pull the crucible out before it tarnished too badlyâsince I was the one whoâd probably have to clean it. âThen why? Al, we had thirty misfires over a twenty-mile stretch in the span of an hour. Ivy worked it out. Whatever it is, itâs moving almost forty-five miles an hour.â
âIvy, eh?â he said. âIâll take that as a fact, then. Perhaps whatever disturbed the energy flow is gone.â
My gut hurt, and I set the fire iron aside. âAl, the misfires are coming from Loveland.â
There was a telling instant of silence, and then Al turned away, his shoes scraping softly. âYour ley line is fine.â
âWhat if it isnât?â I stood, afraid to tell him that my aura had gone white. If it was overstimulation, then probably everyoneâs had.
âYou fixed it.â Eyes averted, he sat in his chair, fingers steepled. âYour line is fine!â
I pulled his coat from the bench, the crushed velvet smooth against my fingers. On the mantel, Mr. Fish swam up and down, his nose against the glass, ignoring the pellets. I didnât say a word. Just stood there with his coat over my arm.
âYou want to go look at it?â he finally asked, and I held his coat out. âOkay, weâll go look at it,â he conceded, and I quelled a surge of anxiety. This close to sunset, thereâd be surface demons, but I was more
Frankie Blue
john thompson
Alaina Stanford
Alexandra Ivy, Laura Wright
C.W. Gortner
Helena Newbury
Jessica Jarman
Shanna Clayton
Barbara Elsborg
James Howard Kunstler