Devon Monk - Magic in the Shadows

“Which he? Dad or Frank?”

“Both. It’s a problem.”

“A problem,” I repeated.“So that list? The one I just made about you? I’d like to add

master of the understatement

.”

The waiter appeared, whisked away our bowls, and replaced them with the main course. It smelled delicious, and we both took some time to eat.

“It is possible you have his memories in your mind,” Zayvion said.

“Is it possible he’s actually alive?” I asked again.

“I don’t. . We don’t know,” he finally said. “Sometimes I think anything is possible with you. Maeve is going to do a more thorough search when you see her.”

“Wait. You’ve talked to Maeve about me?”

“Maeve was my teacher for a short time. We see each other fairly often. She’ll know what to do.”

“Are you sure you can’t just look for me?” It came out smaller than I expected. No matter how little I knew Zayvion, I knew Maeve even less. I could let her be my teacher, but I was not ready to let her mess with my brain.

Zayvion reached across the table and caught the fingers of my hand. “If I could, I would. We are Complements, Allie. More than that, we are Soul Complements. Lightning and steel. We can. . manipulate magic together, as if we were one person. That’s. . amazing. But there are things we should never do, lines we should not cross. Using magic together is one thing. Powerful. Stepping into each other’s minds. . even with the best intentions, the clearest need. . that never ends well.”

“I suppose that’s documented somewhere?”

“Soul Complements are rare.”

“That’s not an answer.”

He took a moment to study me. I was not as drunk as he might think I was.

He sighed. “This isn’t what I wanted to talk about tonight either. I don’t suppose you’d like to discuss the weather?”

“Foggy,” I noted. “Tell me the truth. I can take it; I’ve had plenty of wine to soften the blow.”

He smiled, but it didn’t make it to his eyes. “The truth? The few Soul Complements that are documented read like a tragedy. It has never ended well. For any of them.”

“Hold on, let me get this straight. Soul Complements are just two people who can cast magic together without blowing themselves up, right?”

“No, you’re thinking of Complements-two magic users who handle magic so similarly, they can, on occasion, cast magic together. There are also Contrasts-magic users who handle magic in opposite ways, and can, on occasion, cancel or enhance certain affects of each other’s spells.”

“So Soul Complements are?”

“Two people who can cast magic as if they are one person. Two people whose minds and souls fit each other perfectly. Two people who could become so close they feel each other’s emotions, hear each other’s thoughts, feel each other’s pain. Two people who can take magic to levels otherwise unattainable.”

I know that should sound wonderful, being so close to someone you could share their thoughts. But I was nothing if not the queen of trust issues. Letting someone know everything I was feeling and thinking sounded like my own little corner room in hell.

I finished off my wine. “So tell me the downside.”

“Those Soul Complements who have become too close stop being who and what they are. Lost in the shared magic, shared emotions, shared thoughts, they lose control of their magic, or use it in ways. . in horrible ways. And if they are not broken apart, then, insanity results.”

I took a minute to absorb all that. “You and I are Soul Complements?”

He nodded.

“We’re going to drive each other insane?”

“Probably.”

“I’m serious.”

“All right. We won’t go insane if we just use magic together, and we won’t go insane if we are with each other in all other intimate ways.”

“Sex?” I asked.

He grinned. “I wasn’t talking about water-skiing. There are boundaries-how close we can be with each other mentally, soul to soul. Boundaries that must be obeyed so that we can be together, closer than anyone else on Earth, but not so close that we lose ourselves.”

“So, the shared thoughts and feelings are out?”

“It’s better that way.”

Well, I for one wasn’t seeing a downside.

“I could look in your mind to see if your father’s memories are still there,” he said. “I have the training. Should I? Once in your mind, once that close to you, I may not be able to step away.”

I blushed. No, I don’t know why. Okay, yes, I did. Zayvion was looking at me like I was something beautiful he wanted and could not have.

“I could make you leave my mind,” I said uncertainly.

“I don’t think so.” He let go of my hand and pushed his plate to one side so he could rest his arm in front of him. “You aren’t the only stubborn person at the table.”

I smiled. “Speaking of which, about that other thing.”

“Which other thing?”

“All those long-term scar-filled relationships you were talking about.”

“You aren’t the first woman I’ve dated.”

Yeah, well, I knew that. “Go on.”

He leaned both arms on the table. The table was small, intimate. We were close enough that if I stretched just a little more, I could touch him, kiss him. His gaze held me exactly where I was. “You just might be the last I’ll survive.”

The blush rushed up my neck and washed hot across my face.

Slow

, I told myself.

We said we’d go slow.

To hell with slow. I leaned forward, my wineglass still in one hand. Zayvion had both hands free, and drew his fingers down the side of my face, fingertips stroking the length of my bare neck. He bent toward me, his fingers slipping up to cup the edge of my jaw, as if he wanted to make sure I wouldn’t disappear, as if he wanted to draw my mouth to his. I opened my lips and inhaled.

My heart beat harder. I wanted to taste the wine on his lips, wanted to savor the pine scent of him against the tip of my tongue.

But instead of pulling me closer, instead of kissing me, his fingertips clenched gently beneath my ear. He ran his tongue across his bottom lip and then slowly, mechanically leaned back, away, shoulders squared against the back of his chair, fingertips splayed wide against the tablecloth, brown eyes filled with fire that had nothing to do with magic.

He didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. But I did.

“This isn’t going to be easy,” I said.

He held very still, watching me. “The best things never are.”

Our waiter of impeccable timing returned, cleared away our plates, and brought burgundy and cheeses.

I nibbled on the cheese, but mostly drank the burgundy and thought about Zayvion’s lips. Well, thought about his lips, and tried to pull up even the smallest memory of his naked body. No luck.

For his part, Zayvion finished his food, gave me a few smiles, and moved on to lighter subjects. The weather again-still foggy. The view-still sparkly. The time-late. As a matter of fact, it was past midnight, and the warm glow from all the wine was making me yawn.

“How about we skip dessert?” he asked after I’d hidden yet another yawn behind my hand.

I nodded. “I’m sorry. It’s been long. The day, not the dinner. I think I’m a lot more tired than I thought I thought.” Wait, what had I just said?

Zayvion grinned. “We’ll save dessert for next time.”

“Next time?”

“You didn’t think this was the only date I was going to take you on, did you?”

“Uh. . no?”

The waiter appeared like magic, took Zayvion’s credit card, and returned just as quickly.

“So,” Zayvion said as we both stood and pulled on our coats. “That list of things you said about me earlier?”