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Authors: Tasha Black
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but most of it seemed to roll right off. This was beyond the usual shifter magic resistance. What was going on with him?
The blast, which should have knocked him off his feet, had at least stunned him. Hedda didn’t waste any time. She turned and dashed into the trees before he could recover.
She ran through the undergrowth, slender branches, like fingers, sliding along her clothing. Each footstep brought up the scent of pine needles as they bent to mold themselves to the bottoms of her sneakers. The occasional blades of long grass tried to cling to her calves.
The magic did this, made her so irresistible even the plants desired her when it built up too much.
She had released so much magic already today, but it must be teeming just beneath the surface from her fright.
Hedda forced herself to slow down and listen.
Sounds of the woods came back to her. Owls, the wind in the trees.
No thrashing of a bear through the woods behind her, no shuddering footsteps.
Tickling on her forearm alerted her to a length of English ivy that had unwound from the tree beside her to wrap loosely around her elbow.
Hedda brushed it off and took a step forward. There was a groaning sound as the tree that housed the ivy stretched its branches after her.
Rustling in the trees overhead got her moving again.
She tried walking slowly and getting her breath under control. The squirrels from the trees above came down close and followed along, but didn’t try to touch her.
A bird began to alight on her shoulder.
Hedda closed her eyes and envisioned the crisp blue light of the magic settling down, the effervescence fading.
The bird veered into the darkness at the last moment, its wing brushing her cheek like a kiss.
How had it come to this?
She had paid her penance, she thought. But everything Hedda touched went mad.
She thought of the Copper Creek post office, and David’s face appeared before her eyes. He was a nice guy with a kind smile. He’d always ogled her, like the others did. But he seemed to feel bad about it, and that was unique.
How many parcels and packages of magic stones had he dutifully stamped and given her tracking slips for before he asked her to have coffee with him? How many cups of coffee before she had let him kiss her?
She would never forget the feeling. She had been so cautious, so curious about his touch.
He had kissed her full out like she was the fountain of youth and he was on his death bed.
She’d pulled backed.
“What if I were ugly?” she asked.
“What?” he’d blinked at her, half drunk with lust.
“What if I weren’t beautiful? Do you only like me because of the way I look?” she’d asked again.
“N-no, I love you no matter how you look,” he said, already leaning in to continue the kiss.
But she had pushed him away and promised him another cup of coffee tomorrow.
The next day she had gone to the top of the mountain above the cottage and expelled her magic until it was depleted. A stand of trees lay on their sides, dead to her force, but it was done.
She’d trotted down the mountain, trying to ignore the few neighbors she met. They stared, after her, probably wondering why she looked different.
Down at the post office, she had waited her turn in line with her day’s parcel.
Her heart throbbed in her chest with excitement and fear. Would he still like her? Would he still want to kiss her? There was no other way to know for certain what his feelings were.
At last she stood before him.
“Can I help you?” he asked in a bored way.
She drew back.
“Ma’am?” he asked.
“David?” she murmured.
“Do I know you?” he asked.
She drew the package tight against her chest and backed away.
When she reached the door an older woman was coming in.
“Are you coming or going?” the woman asked in an irritated way.
Hedda sobbed and ran out the door of the post office.
The little town that had for a time seemed so bright and cheerful was gray once more and the details blurred
The blast, which should have knocked him off his feet, had at least stunned him. Hedda didn’t waste any time. She turned and dashed into the trees before he could recover.
She ran through the undergrowth, slender branches, like fingers, sliding along her clothing. Each footstep brought up the scent of pine needles as they bent to mold themselves to the bottoms of her sneakers. The occasional blades of long grass tried to cling to her calves.
The magic did this, made her so irresistible even the plants desired her when it built up too much.
She had released so much magic already today, but it must be teeming just beneath the surface from her fright.
Hedda forced herself to slow down and listen.
Sounds of the woods came back to her. Owls, the wind in the trees.
No thrashing of a bear through the woods behind her, no shuddering footsteps.
Tickling on her forearm alerted her to a length of English ivy that had unwound from the tree beside her to wrap loosely around her elbow.
Hedda brushed it off and took a step forward. There was a groaning sound as the tree that housed the ivy stretched its branches after her.
Rustling in the trees overhead got her moving again.
She tried walking slowly and getting her breath under control. The squirrels from the trees above came down close and followed along, but didn’t try to touch her.
A bird began to alight on her shoulder.
Hedda closed her eyes and envisioned the crisp blue light of the magic settling down, the effervescence fading.
The bird veered into the darkness at the last moment, its wing brushing her cheek like a kiss.
How had it come to this?
She had paid her penance, she thought. But everything Hedda touched went mad.
She thought of the Copper Creek post office, and David’s face appeared before her eyes. He was a nice guy with a kind smile. He’d always ogled her, like the others did. But he seemed to feel bad about it, and that was unique.
How many parcels and packages of magic stones had he dutifully stamped and given her tracking slips for before he asked her to have coffee with him? How many cups of coffee before she had let him kiss her?
She would never forget the feeling. She had been so cautious, so curious about his touch.
He had kissed her full out like she was the fountain of youth and he was on his death bed.
She’d pulled backed.
“What if I were ugly?” she asked.
“What?” he’d blinked at her, half drunk with lust.
“What if I weren’t beautiful? Do you only like me because of the way I look?” she’d asked again.
“N-no, I love you no matter how you look,” he said, already leaning in to continue the kiss.
But she had pushed him away and promised him another cup of coffee tomorrow.
The next day she had gone to the top of the mountain above the cottage and expelled her magic until it was depleted. A stand of trees lay on their sides, dead to her force, but it was done.
She’d trotted down the mountain, trying to ignore the few neighbors she met. They stared, after her, probably wondering why she looked different.
Down at the post office, she had waited her turn in line with her day’s parcel.
Her heart throbbed in her chest with excitement and fear. Would he still like her? Would he still want to kiss her? There was no other way to know for certain what his feelings were.
At last she stood before him.
“Can I help you?” he asked in a bored way.
She drew back.
“Ma’am?” he asked.
“David?” she murmured.
“Do I know you?” he asked.
She drew the package tight against her chest and backed away.
When she reached the door an older woman was coming in.
“Are you coming or going?” the woman asked in an irritated way.
Hedda sobbed and ran out the door of the post office.
The little town that had for a time seemed so bright and cheerful was gray once more and the details blurred
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