Bonds and Broken Dreams (Amplifier 2) Page 14

  His head snapped up. “Fuck. I forgot to pick up condoms.”

  I laughed involuntarily.

  He shook his head. “It’s not the same.”

  “It really is.”

  “It isn’t.”

  “You’re just saying that because you want to have sex.”

  “Yeah, I do. And so do you … I hope?”

  “Yes, of course. But I don’t want … it would hurt me, Aiden, if you regretted it. If we were casual about it —”

  “There is nothing casual between us.”

  “Exactly.”

  He groaned, pressing his forehead against mine.

  The sound of teeth gnawing viciously on bone drew our attention back toward the fireplace. Paisley had abruptly appeared, or had otherwise entered the room while we were occupied. She was now sprawled on the floor, slathering over the magical bovine femur that Aiden had brought with him. The firelight caught in her red-hued eyes. When she saw us looking at her, she unhinged her massive jaw, flashing a double row of sharp teeth.

  Aiden cleared his throat. “Well, that’s not disconcerting at all.”

  I laughed.

  Paisley chortled.

  Aiden shifted his hand around my neck, laying his thumb across my throat thoughtfully, mimicking the first time he’d touched me. In the diner.

  “Are you checking my pulse, sorcerer?” I murmured playfully.

  Aiden shook his head, just once. His gaze intensified. “How is it possible to …” He shook his head again, checking himself. Then he pressed another kiss to my lips.

  I swayed toward him, then forced myself to straighten my spine, to allow the moment to ebb.

  He sighed, muttering darkly, “If I can’t get the spellbook from the vampire, I’ll drop the idea. Or we’ll figure something else out.”

  “Okay.”

  He took a step back, seemingly forcing himself to drop his hands away from me. Then he managed to take two more steps back, coming up hard against the end of the coffee table.

  His gaze was soul piercing. I allowed it to pin me in place, even when all I really wanted was to tug off my robe, free him of his jeans, and take him on the floor. The couch would have been too small for the freedom of movement I desired.

  I grinned at the thought.

  Aiden cleared his throat, shaking his head. “Not helpful, Emma. I’m already severely testing my willpower.”

  I laughed. Then, just to be helpful, I stepped around him and settled on the couch next to the fire. “Tell me about the spell.”

  He paced over to the other couch, eyed it for a moment, then apparently decided it wasn’t time to sit down.

  I quashed a smile.

  He stepped over to the fire instead, standing next to Paisley. She bumped his shin playfully with the bone.

  “I’m glad you like it,” he said to her with all seriousness, treating Paisley as if she were a person and not a demon dog. Not some magical freak.

  A sharp emotion bloomed behind my eyes, and I had to look away. It was a kind of happiness, but I didn’t understand why it hurt so much.

  “Tell me about the dream instead,” Aiden said, his gaze on fire. “Coming up with a way of blocking the telepath will distract me.”

  “You think a telepath is involved?”

  “A powerful one. If they can reach you without being in the house, or even on the property. And anyone with any magic running through their veins would have triggered my ward line.” The boundary Aiden had erected when he arrived wouldn’t stop a powerful Adept from coming onto the property, but the sorcerer would have felt their approach.

  “It doesn’t feel like a telepath,” I said. “And the perspective was different this time.”

  “Different?”

  “As if I was the girl. The young witch who I rescued when the San Francisco contract went sideways. It was as though I was in her mind. Seeing the scene from her point of view.”

  “The witch,” Aiden murmured thoughtfully. Then he turned back to the coffee table and picked up a spellbook. It was slightly thicker than the others. A compendium, perhaps. He opened it and started flipping through it. “If it was witch magic, you’d know it.”

  “If it was any magic being used against me, I should know it.”

  Aiden scanned a page, then flipped quickly forward and back again in the book. “Remember in the clearing, when you asked Daniel if he’d added a back door to the cages he’d constructed and sold to Silver Pine?”

  “How could I forget?”

  Aiden snorted. Then he held the book out open toward me. I took it, scanning the pages. The text was written in runes, and what looked like Arabic script.

  I gave Aiden a look.

  He laughed huskily. “The title and the first set of runes are translated.”

  And so they were. “Setting an intent?”

  Aiden nodded, taking the book back from me and scanning the few pages he’d selected again. “Same idea as a back door. Embedding a suggestion, to be triggered at another time.”

  “A way in … to someone’s mind?”

  Aiden shrugged. “A telepath might be able to forge a similar connection, leaving it dormant, then retriggering it when needed. How many telepaths have you come in contact with?”

  “Intimately enough that they could spell me without me noticing? Not one. Not even Bee, and especially not since …” I hesitated. I hadn’t actually mentioned the blood tattoos to Aiden. He’d see them soon enough, hopefully, but I was hoping that we could broach the subject of me being magically tied to four other people in that more intimate setting.

  He glanced up at me, his expression softening. “I don’t need the details, Emma. I’m just trying to help you brainstorm.”

  I shook my head. “It could only have been Bee. And it wasn’t.”

  My gaze fell to the coffee table, snagging on Aiden’s notebook and thinking back through our earlier conversation. He was looking for a way to block my amplification, and I was researching rune spells, trying to figure out how the sorcerers had held me in San Francisco. How they’d drained my magic involuntarily.

  And oddly, both of those things connected me to the witch haunting my dreams.

  “The witch … I amplified the witch.”

  Aiden stilled. “And do you forge a connection to the people you amplify?”

  “I would have said no six months ago. But Jenni Raymond has been complaining about wanting to …” I glanced up at Aiden, slightly concerned about admitting that I had inadvertently forged a connection with the shifter. Especially since I’d pretty much been about to throw him on the coffee table and have my way with him, sexually and magically.

  He grinned at me. “The shifter’s magic was practically dormant. Mine isn’t. You would have been a real shock to her system, while I’m … let’s say, prepared …”

  I laughed quietly. “Even well versed.”

  He chuckled agreeably. “Open to possibilities.”

  Aiden was actually very well acquainted with at least one spell with a sexual component that drained magic — when wielded by a black witch. I didn’t doubt that he had the same experience with sharing power sexually. “Apparently, you’re also part telepath yourself.”

  He laughed. “We’re on the same wavelength. Thank God.”

  “Well …” I said, grinning but heroically attempting to keep the conversation on topic. “Jenni has been complaining about the need to be around me. Seek me out, check up on me.”

  “But you’ve amplified others.”

  “Yes, but …”

  “But?”

  “They were already tied to me.” I hesitated, then offered up a half lie. “Teammates. But the young witch … her name is Opal. I checked in with my lawyer after I had the first dream. Opal was dying when I amplified her. I could have inadvertently forged a connection. But one strong enough to have sustained itself for more than a year? Sixteen months? Strong enough that someone else could be tapping into it now?”

  Aiden was thoughtful
. “Not someone else. The girl.”

  “I would have recognized witch magic, Aiden,” I said, slightly peeved to be repeating myself.

  “But you did feel magic. Otherwise, you would have dismissed the incidents as dreams.”

  I looked at him questioningly.

  “The girl is a dream walker,” he said. “A rare witch-blooded talent, similar to telepathy. Similar to amplification, actually. But if I’m remembering correctly, having never met one myself, it’s a talent that can remain dormant unless it’s specifically identified, and the witch is specifically trained to wield it.”

  “Or … while on the brink of death, and possibly on the brink of puberty, that magic is amplified by an unusually powerful amplifier.”

  Aiden closed the book, nodding but still deep in thought. “It’s possible.”

  “As best Ember Pine could figure out, Opal is an orphan. Ember’s cousin was fostering her, but she entered the Academy this fall.”

  Aiden hummed attentively, but he didn’t add anything further to the conversation.

  “You think the girl … Opal … is trying to communicate with me?”

  “Maybe.” Aiden glanced at me grimly. “But what the hell does my brother have to do with it?”

  “Why would you think Isa is involved?”

  “The timing is suspect.”

  “I’m not a fan of coincidence myself. But if there’s a connection, I have no idea what it could be.”

  “There’s a connection,” Aiden muttered, casting his gaze over the coffee table and books. “And once again, I don’t have enough information.”

  “Books?” I asked.

  “Yes. And contacts I would trust with even the little bit of information I’d need to impart to get their assessment.”

  “About me?”

  “About amplification in general, but yes. And also how the incident in San Francisco might be connected to Isa.”

  “Which could draw attention to me. Just in a different way.”

  “Yes,” Aiden growled.

  “I can’t help with that. Obviously, I need to keep my past as deeply hidden as possible.”

  Aiden grunted.

  “But …” I hesitated, then forced myself to plow forward. I had never needed to drum up as much bravery as I did around Aiden. Apparently, the anticipation of getting my heart destroyed was worse than anything else I’d ever endured. And again, that was ridiculous.

  “We could build up the library,” I said. “I’ve added my books to the shelves in the study. Christopher has set up some lights for the avocado, lemon, and lime that he’s growing. But there’s plenty of space, and a desk.”

  Aiden settled his gaze on me. Then he stepped closer, leaning over to brush his lips against mine. “I’d like that, Emma.”

  “Okay,” I whispered. Magic shifted between us, around us, as if we were cementing a binding contract.

  Paisley began snoring, loudly.

  Aiden laughed, glancing back at the demon dog. She had rolled over, all four legs in the air, and was pretending to be asleep. She peeked to see if we’d noticed.

  I shook my head at her.

  She chortled, then rolled back over and started chewing on the bone again.

  I looked up at Aiden. The magic we’d called forth with our words hung suspended between us.

  “I’ll start making a list. Basic building blocks,” he said. “Though texts on witch magic will be hard to come by, so we might not be able to find any written authority on the dream walker. Will you let me know if you have any works you need that your lawyer hasn’t sourced yet?”

  “I will.”

  The magic settled, as if accepting those words as the terms of our agreement. To build a library. Together. I was fairly certain that was what some mundanes called ‘baby steps.’

  Aiden settled on the couch across from me. His gaze was weighted, but he appeared pleased. Content.

  Paisley snarled, then growled at the bone.

  I curled my legs under me.

  Aiden nodded as if coming to some decision. “Tell me about the spell you’re researching. Is it connected?”

  “Yes. I’m looking into magical transference and binding in general,” I said. “For obvious reasons. But the sorcerers in San Francisco used the witch girl — her blood, her life force — to hold me. And I want to know how to safely counter that spell.”

  Aiden frowned. “In a pentagram? Blood etched? Runed?”

  “Yes. I still can’t remember all the runes used. Not even with the recent dreams.”

  “Not surprising. If the witch is a dream walker, I doubt she has the foundation to replicate them with any accuracy. But … I’m surprised anything like that could have held you, Emma. With your inherent immunity, as you call it.”

  I thought about how I might respond. Then I decided in that moment that when I did share parts of my life with Aiden, I wanted only the truth between us. Even if it made me appear weak.

  “Breaking the spell would have killed the girl,” I said. “I was certain of it, and … I was just assessing my options. Then Christopher and Paisley distracted the sorcerers.”

  “I bet they did. And the point of the spell? An attempt to harness your magic?”

  “At the time, I thought they were trying to drain me.”

  He hummed thoughtfully. “They thought they’d captured a powerful amplifier and were willing to kill a witch to hold you? I doubt draining you was their goal.”

  I nodded, still waiting for him to comment about my lack of self-preservation when it came to breaking free and potentially killing the witch.

  He didn’t.

  And that made me realize that Aiden didn’t see me as a cold-blooded killer. Didn’t assume that was my default response to every situation.

  We were slowly being trapped by a snowstorm. Facing at least one unknown opponent, not to mention two well-known threats — to Aiden at least — whose intentions and motivations were obscure. And I felt peaceful, content. At home. With the sorcerer in my sitting room.

  “We’ll rebuild the spell from what you remember,” Aiden said.

  I shifted from the couch, a little reluctantly. “I’ll get my notes.”

  “And I will watch you leave the room, mourning every moment you’re gone.” He spoke what should have been utterly trite, teasing words with deadly sincerity.

  “I’ll be quick.”

  He grinned. “Good.”

  Aiden eventually fell asleep, awkwardly sprawled across the couch, with my notes and the books in disarray all around the coffee table. It stopped snowing before dawn, and the sunrise spread a touch of warmth across the cool cocoon that had literally encased the property.

  The power clicked on an hour later, bringing with it the return of the furnace and the Wi-Fi. The fire had died, leaving hints of blue in the embers. Paisley had started snoring, for real.

  I gently laid a blanket over Aiden, possibly lingering to stare at him long enough to be considered creepy. Then I laid a second blanket over Paisley, who was using the bovine bone as a pillow. I didn’t want her to feel left out if she woke up before Aiden.

  I headed upstairs for my iPad, checking my email and finding the follow-up message I’d been hoping for from Ember Pine. Except the message had been sent through a Gmail account, not from the lawyer’s Sherwood and Pine email address.

  I scanned the message, then read it slowly a second time.

  Emma —

  I find myself flustered to report that Opal’s mother showed up at the Academy two weeks ago with a birth certificate in hand. Though, obviously, her identity was confirmed by Opal herself. The mother — Tandy Sherwood — immediately removed Opal from the Academy, refusing to leave any contact information, or in fact, to linger a moment longer than was necessary. The school reports that Tandy tried to suggest that Opal leave without even packing her belongings.

  I must apologize. Neither Opal nor her parents are registered with the Convocation. The birth certificate indicated that Opal
was born in a mundane hospital in San Francisco. I would never have placed Opal with my cousin if I had any hint of her parentage.

  With that said, there is something odd, something irksome about the situation, and I feel compelled to investigate further.

  I normally would hesitate to ask, but since you opened up the conversation, do you have any other information you can impart to guide my inquiries?

  — Ember

  P.S. I have found nothing connecting the Azar sorcerers and Opal, but am still looking.

  That was odd. Odd timing. And odd behavior on Opal’s mother’s part. Where had Tandy Sherwood been for the last two years? Why the urgency to remove her child from the school?

  And why was I dreaming about the young witch?

  Aiden was right. Too many oddities couldn’t be coincidence. And Ember obviously agreed, though the use of the Gmail address made it clear that the inquiry she wanted to conduct was personal, and therefore off the books.

  I hit reply.

  I agree with your assessment of the oddity of the situation. Though Adepts are private, and a witch might have chosen to separate herself from her coven for many reasons. But I’m not certain I can offer any clarity. Simply more questions that might help lead us in the right direction.

  What was Opal studying at the Academy? Had she shown a talent for dream walking? And, if so, what range would she be expected to have? Can that ability be co-opted by another, perhaps a telepath? And, when you look further into any possible connection between the Azar sorcerers and Opal, perhaps focusing on the San Francisco contract would be beneficial?

  I hesitated to put down the next information in writing. But if I wanted answers, I had to give the lawyer witch as much to go on as I reasonably could.

  Would the fact that I amplified Opal create a connection through which she could manipulate my dreams? Or through which she might be trying to communicate?

  I moved the cursor to hit send, but then added an addendum. Something that had been niggling at me.

  In the dream I’ve been having, Opal calls me Emma. But I never spoke to her, never introduced myself. Was that information you shared with your cousin, that she in turn possibly shared with Opal?