Devon Monk - Magic to the Bone

“What hit me?” I asked.

“Magic.”

“I know, but I mean, why? Why so strong?”

Zay exhaled. “I’m not exactly sure, but it might have something to do with this.” He held up my hand so I could see it. The marks there, the spiderwebbing was now whorls of silver, gold, blues, rose, and greens. I looked like I’d dipped my hand in liquid fire opals, or metallic oil. The marks on my arm had turned the same metal colors as my hand, but there was more of my skin to be seen between the lines on my arm. It didn’t look like there were new lines, but rather that the same burn marks I’d had since I healed Cody had gone shades of metallic psychedelic instead of just burned-looking red.

“That’s going to be a conversation piece,” I muttered.

Zay laughed. “You had me worried.”

I looked back at him. He was still leaning over me, and even though he was smiling, the smile faded quickly. “Really worried.”

“Kiss it and make me feel better?”

Heat sparked in those tiger eyes of his and he bent his head. His lips touched mine gently, hesitant to press too hard. I opened my mouth for him, and it was all the invitation he needed. It was still a soft kiss, a careful kiss, but I didn’t want him to pull away. And he didn’t. Not for a long, slow moment.

“Do you know how dangerous it is to overload like that?” he asked me, his lips barely away from mine.

“Yes,” I said. “I didn’t mean to.” I reached up enough to catch his mouth again, and the kiss moved over into I’m-not-hurt territory. He felt good, he tasted good. Minty. Warm. Alive.

I didn’t want him to go away. I wasn’t sure if I was up for a full tussle, but a little hand play seemed like a really nice idea right now.

Zayvion pulled away. “You wanted us to take this slow.”

“I don’t remember saying that.” Actually, I did.

He raised one eyebrow and, this close, close enough that if I put my arms up around his neck I could probably get another kiss out of him, I could see that he didn’t believe me.

“Okay. Maybe this is a bad time,” I said.

“It is.”

“So why are you still lying over me?”

“I’m waiting for you to thank me properly.”

“For what?”

“Saving your life. Again. I’ve never met a woman who was so intent on dying.”

“Hey, did I ask for your opinion? I can save my own life just fine, thank you. And I don’t even know what you did. For all I know, I saved my life just now.”

“No,” he said. “It was definitely me.”

“Prove it.”

He drew one finger up my arm, and the cooling ease of mint followed it. It was like the magic in me burned with fire, and the magic in him flowed with ice. I shivered and it wasn’t from cold. He felt good. Incredibly good.

Fire and ice. Hell of a pair we made.

“What does that have to do with saving my life?”

His finger paused and the magic within me cooled and flowed out of me, back to the natural store deep beneath the earth. The pressure from holding so much magic and then being released from it spread like a warm blanket over me. I felt relaxed, content. I felt like we’d just had sex.

“I Grounded you.” He smiled. “And you liked it.”

“I don’t need you to do that, you know. I could do it for myself.”

“Just say thank you, and we can get going.”

“Is that all it will take?”

“Well, that and admitting you are very lucky I am good at Grounding. Very lucky I was here with you just now—very lucky I was with you after you Hounded that hit on Boy—very lucky I was there when you went off the deep end pulling magic to try and help Cody—”

“Heal Cody. And not try. Did.”

Zay’s smile slipped a little. “Heal? You healed him?”

“I told you that already.”

“No you didn’t. You said you thought he was hurt, but we couldn’t find any evidence of it.”

Shit. It must have been Nola who I told. I hated it when I found memory gaps in my head.

“Well, I’m telling you now. I healed him. With magic.”

“No one can heal with magic.”

“I know. I did.”

The smile was gone, the warmth and teasing were gone. In their place sat neutral Zay, calm Zay, Zen Zay. “That explains why it took so much to Ground you.”

I didn’t know what to say to that. Grounding, or acting as a lightning rod for another magic user while they are using magic, was not an easy thing to do. You had to be incredibly malleable, incredibly pain tolerant, and incredibly calm while you guided magic to exit another magic user, or exit a spell, and flow back down into the earth.

The way magic worked, you couldn’t Ground yourself. But having another magic user—someone who handled magic in their own unique manner—step into the exact rhythm and style of your casting and Ground you was so rare as to be generally unadvisable.

People who tried it and succeeded were highly trained specialists and usually lingered around high-powered people, serving as bodyguards. Even so, just because in theory a trained specialist could Ground a magic user, it always caused harm—a double Proxy if you will—to the bodyguard. One Offload, or price paid, for his or her own magic, and another price paid for the magic the person they were Grounding was using.

But Zayvion didn’t look like he was in pain, didn’t look like Grounding me was causing him to pay a double price.

Of course I’d heard that there were those rare combinations when the two magic users, caster and ground, were so well matched that Casting and Grounding were like dancing the tango, two bodies moving, breathing as one. Still, someone always paid a price.

Maybe Zayvion was just very, very good. Or maybe we were just very, very good together.

“Allie, I am trying to keep you alive. It would be nice to know these kinds of things.”

I tried to remember what we were talking about. Oh, yes. Healing.

“Is there anything else you haven’t told me?” he asked with a smile. “Any other abilities you’ve developed? Invisibility? Super strength? Can you crawl up walls?”

“Oh, please. Get off me, Jones.” I giggled and accidentally snorted. Sweet loves, I was getting giddy.

“Are you sure? Okay, fine. Fine.” He sat up and levered the back of his seat to a more upright position, then levered mine up too.

“You warm enough?” he asked.

“I’m fine.” I pulled Zay’s jacket off my lap, where he must have put it when I was knocked out. I wrapped it over my chest and shoulders.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

I shrugged. “There’s nothing else I haven’t told you. Just the healing thing.”

“No big deal. Just the healing thing,” he mimicked.

“What is your problem? You don’t think I should have healed the kid? Do you want me to apologize for saving his life? Forget you, Jones. I healed him. Deal with it.”

“I didn’t say you should apologize, but you could have mentioned it.”

“When?”

“Before.”

“Oh, that’s clear. Before what?”

The muscle where his jaw and ear met clenched. “Before we . . . before we went to Nola’s.”

That was not what he had meant to say. I figured he really meant to say before we slept together. Before we made love.

“I tell you what, man of a million secrets. When you tell me all the things about you and your life that I want to know, I’ll return the favor.”

Silence. Maybe we were both a little angry. Silence suited me just fine.

It started raining, and Zay flicked on the wipers, both of which squeaked. Miles went by.

Fine. I did not need to coddle man-moods. Instead, I leaned my head into the window, pillowing it with my hand, and tried to think what I should do once we got to Violet’s place.