Hmm. “Can I choose a different color?”
She passed me the container and I examined the bright shades. Choosing a fire-engine red, I handed it back. “So, what other traditional sleepover activities do you have planned?”
“Watching rom-coms, eating popcorn, and a pillow fight.”
“You’re basing this entirely on nineties chick flicks, aren’t you?”
“Pretty much,” she confirmed shamelessly, selecting a shade of turquoise that matched her wavy hair.
I squinted at Kaveri. “What exactly are you doing?”
“This?” She added another dried leaf to the circle. “It’s a woodland balance rite. Human technology and activity disrupt natural forces. Through this ritual, I can bring the nearby energies into balance. It doesn’t last long, but it’s rejuvenating for fae.”
Twiggy nodded rapturously. “It feels good. Bright and clear.”
“Mmm,” I murmured noncommittally. “Arcana uses circles too, doesn’t it?”
“Yes, circles are present in most magic constructions. They define boundaries. Arcana and Spiritalis share some basic concepts, but the execution is very different.” She pondered her circle, then lifted a pouch from her bag and sprinkled dirt in the center. “All witches can sense the flow of power within nature, and we can tell when it’s out of balance.”
I frowned at the dirt she was dumping on my floor. “You can sense it?”
“Oh yes. The urge to correct the balance is inherent, and many young witches will teach themselves basic rites through trial and error. It’s the primary ministration we offer fae—balancing the energies they depend on for survival.”
I stifled a sigh. If I’d had the slightest doubt, here was the final nail in the coffin—no way was I a Spiritalis mythic. I scarcely tolerated outdoorsy activities, let alone felt the urge to arrange leaves and dirt for esoteric purposes. Not to mention I lacked that special ability to perceive fae that the O-sisters had described. I could see fae only when they wanted to be seen.
“With Spiritalis rites, you can’t simply follow a recipe,” Kaveri added with a smug smile in Sin’s direction. “We must adapt every rite to the current state of the natural world in which we’re working, and only through our unique senses can we do that.”
Sin snorted. “Yeah, but balancing is about all you witches can do unless a fae trades over its magic. Arcaners harness energies into potions and artifacts.”
My phone chimed, and I tuned out their snippy debate while I surreptitiously checked the message. Nerves flitted through my stomach. I’d slept most of the day, but in the several hours since I’d woken, my top priority had been to devise a plan. So far, I had nothing—and now my time was up.
I jumped to my feet and hurried into the kitchen to check my pantry. “I don’t have any popcorn! I’m fresh out of soft drinks too.”
“Damn,” Sin grumbled as she uncapped her turquoise polish.
“Hey, Kaveri,” I said brightly, “why don’t you make a quick snack run? The grocery store is open for another forty-five minutes.”
Rising to her feet, she brushed leaves off her yoga pants and I tried not to let the mess annoy me. Twiggy was humming and crooning at the nature circle. At least he was happy.
No sooner had I thought it than he cut off his discordant tune. His head tilted to one side—and he faded out of sight. Little weirdo.
“I’m supposed to stay with you,” Kaveri said uncertainly.
I refocused on my mission.
“It’ll only be a few minutes,” I told her breezily, hoping I wasn’t laying it on too thick. “And you wanted me to try chai tea, right? You could get some of that too.”
Her face brightened. I’d have no choice but to drink the tea now. The sacrifices I was making …
“Okay,” she agreed. “The store isn’t far, right?”
“You’ll be back in no time!” Except the closest store was already closed and she’d have to drive to a different one. Keeping my smile in place, I ushered her up the stairs and out the door.
When I came back down, Sin had turned around on the sofa and was leaning against the back, squinting suspiciously at me.
“You’re acting weird,” she accused.
No point in denying it. “Everything is weird,” I hedged, waving at the glowing marks all over me, displayed by my shorts and tank top. “Sin, I need to ask …”
I trailed off as Twiggy appeared behind her. His body language set off my alarm bells—the faery was up to something. I knew that look.
Before I could warn Sin, Twiggy pressed a green leaf against her bare arm. Surprise flickered across her face, then she slumped into the cushions, limp as a corpse.
“Sin!” I sprinted to the sofa. “Twiggy, what did you do?”
He widened his eyes innocently and waved the leaf. “I did what he told me!”
“What who—” I cut myself off as Twiggy’s gaze moved past me and worshipful awe blanked his waxy features.
I spun around.
A man stood at the bottom of the stairs, leaning against the door jamb. His long black coat hung to his knees, the hood pulled up and casting deep shadows over his face. Tall, broad-shouldered, oozing menace.
“Ever hear of knocking?” I demanded, gulping down my racing heart. “And what did Twiggy do to Sin?”
He pushed his hood off. The shadows slid away from his face, revealing unnaturally bright green eyes set in one of the most gorgeous faces I’d ever had the pleasure of ogling. I sighed wistfully.
“Leaf of yarnroot,” he replied.
I sighed again. That voice. Raspy, rumbly, and sinfully deep. Damn. I’d forgotten the man was sex appeal incarnate. It just wasn’t fair.
“You’re a dickhead,” I declared to remind myself of that important fact. “What did the leaf do to her?”
He rolled his spectacular eyes at my unprompted insult. “The touch of a single leaf will render an adult unconscious. Its effect lasts about an hour and”—a dangerous smile touched his lips—“it leaves no trace.”
I shook my head in disbelief. “It won’t hurt her?”
“Not unless she eats it.”
Twiggy grinned and stuffed the leaf in his mouth, chewing loudly and humming like he’d taken a bite of the sweetest cake.
I waved at Zak. “Help me move her over to my bed.”
He crossed the room, simultaneously pulling off his coat to reveal a soft black t-shirt and muscular arms darkened by tattoos. I reminded myself not to drool. He tossed his coat on the sofa, then lifted Sin into his arms. Guess my help wasn’t needed.
After depositing my unconscious friend on my bed, he returned to the main room and looked me up and down. “You’re glowing like a Christmas display. Let’s see what we’ve got.”
I approached him at a cautious mince. Losing patience, he whisked me over to the open space behind my lonely sofa, positioned my arm out to my side, and began examining the fae markings.
“Hi Zak,” I murmured into the silence. “It’s been so long, hasn’t it? I’m doing well, thanks for asking. This fae nonsense has been quite tiring, though. I appreciate your concern. It’s very thoughtful.”
“You’re tired because the fae’s magic is hammering your body like an invisible surf.”
When he pulled my shirt up, I flinched but didn’t stop him. He knew how to behave himself, plus he’d already seen more of my skin than this.
“You’ll grow more and more fatigued,” he continued, “until you can barely stay awake, and sleep won’t help. You’ll scarcely be able to function.”
“Uh.” Alarm clanged through me. “That sounds ominous.”
“It is.” Kneeling to study my leg, he pushed the edge of my cotton shorts up. “The Red Rum witches are fools. Even I couldn’t handle a bond with this fae for more than a few months.”
I blinked at the top of his head. “You’re talkative today.”
He looked up at me, exasperation written across his unsmiling face.
It was a long story how I’d come to have the phone number of the city’s most notorious rogue. The Ghost, as he’d been dubbed, was a mystery to almost everyone in the mythic community—a secretive criminal known for dealing in the darkest arts and kidnapping teenagers. No one knew his name, his face, or what magic he wielded … except me.
And the cold bastard had forced me to swear a black-magic oath that prevented me from revealing anything about him, even by accident. Hence why I’d sent Kaveri away and why he’d ensured Sin couldn’t see or hear anything that would trigger the oath spell, at which point I would gruesomely perish.
How I’d perish I didn’t know. Zak hadn’t said, and I was too chicken to ask.
Crossing to the stairs, where a black duffle bag sat on the floor, he unzipped it and withdrew a pad of paper and a pencil. “I’m going to sketch the markings. Hold your clothes out of the way.”
I pulled my shirt up, baring my midriff. “Can’t you take a photo?”
His pencil scratched across the page. “Magic doesn’t photograph well.”
That was inconvenient. “Tell me more about how the fae’s magic is turning me into a blob of fatigue. Don’t you have a similar bond with your familiar?”