Safe Hex: A Hexy Witch Mystery (Womby's School for Wayward Witches Book 16), Page 2

  I had the sense I had been dreaming about a storm, though I couldn’t remember the dream. The fogginess of sleep clung to me, making my body feel heavy. I suspected something was wrong, but I couldn’t place my finger on what.

  Something cold touched my fingers. I turned my head, vertigo washing over me. An almost-memory nudged my brain, telling me there should have been pain, but when I tried to pinpoint why I thought so, the past slipped out of my grasp like mist.

  Felix Thatch held my hand, his own as cold as winter. His face was an expressionless mask. He brought my fingers to his lips and planted a kiss on the back of my hand. I smiled, seeing him there beside me. For once, he wasn’t skulking in the shadows. Golden light danced over his skin.

  He reminded me of Snow White, his skin as fair as snow, and his shoulder-length hair as black as night. When he turned his face away from me, I noticed a streak of silver laced a single lock of hair, incongruous with the rest of his familiar features. The more I looked at him, the more I noticed details that were off. He wore all-white flowing robes instead of his tweed suit. His hands trembled, an unusual trait for him.

  My entire body felt weightless and light and simultaneously heavy and lethargic. I couldn’t feel my feet.

  “Am I dead?” I asked.

  He lifted his chin. “No.”

  “Where am I?” I felt like I had asked this question before.

  “Someplace safe.” He swallowed. “The only place I could take you where you could be healed.” The crisp precision of his British accent was weighted with misery.

  A chill stole over me as a flicker of memory returned unbidden. I had been in the forest, and a group of shadowy Fae had crowded around me. In my memory, the Raven Queen smiled, but I couldn’t recall why. Did this have something to do with his frail condition? With mine?

  Thatch’s fingers trembled against mine. “Will you ever forgive me?”

  “For what?”

  He wore melancholy on his face like a layer of paint, the emotion coloring each word he spoke. “For allowing Elric to wake you this way.”

  “It’s fine.” I rolled my eyes. “You worry too much.”

  “If we need to do this again, you’ll consent to allowing me to wake you with touch magic?” He clasped my hand, taking it in his own.

  “What do you mean? If we need to do what again?”

  “If we need to wake you through a magical means.” He didn’t meet my gaze.

  “Why would you need to wake me through a magical means?”

  He drew back from my bed, his shoulders hunching over. I couldn’t read what he was thinking.

  “What happened?” I asked.

  Thatch licked his lips. They were chapped. Purple ringed his eyes, and he was paler than usual. When I reached out with my awareness, I couldn’t feel any magic in him. I didn’t know whether that was because he was drained or I was. I couldn’t even tell if I was using my skill to see and feel outside myself.

  Everything felt off.

  “You look like crap,” I said. It wasn’t my most eloquent of moments.

  He raised an eyebrow. “Glad to see you’re back to your usual snarky self.”

  “Me? Snarky?” I laughed. It felt wrong, this laugh, the way it jostled my chest without moving my belly. I teased him, trying to banish the darkness that felt like it wanted to invade my soul. “You’re the crabby one, not me.”

  He tilted his head to the side. “Says who?”

  “Everyone says I’m the nice one.” I managed to smile, but the mood didn’t feel any lighter.

  He brushed my hand against his cheek and closed his eyes. “Indeed. You are the nice one.”

  He was agreeing with me? This wasn’t real. This had to be a dream.

  “Why are you being so nice to me?” I asked.

  “I’m always nice to you.” He kissed my forehead.

  He was only nice to me when I was hurt, dying, or . . . no, he was nice when it was just the two of us, and he didn’t need to pretend he didn’t love me. He had courted me, proposed to me, and after that . . . I was certain there was more. I felt too exhausted to remember. My gaze flickered to the old-fashioned ring on my finger.

  “Did we get married?”

  “Indeed. You remember. Good.”

  Only, I didn’t remember. I had guessed. I vaguely remembered Josie telling me, but I didn’t recall when she would have told me. There was something else she had told me. Something that had opened a world of hurt inside me.

  Thatch’s gaze flickered past me, and I turned my head. Elric stood on the other side of the bed in his silver-and-white robes. I gasped in surprise at seeing him. He wore an elegant crown of crystals on his head. I hadn’t ever seen him wear his crown before.

  I would have sat up, but I didn’t have the energy to do so. Now I understood where I was and why everything was so beautiful. I was in the Faerie Realm, probably in the castle of the Silver Court. I wasn’t sure this was any safer than the Raven Queen’s domain.

  “Where am I? Why am I here? What happened?” I tried to sit up, but my body was too exhausted.

  Elric smoothed a hand over my forehead. “Rest, love.”

  “Do you remember anything?” Thatch asked.

  I vaguely remembered dreams of lightning. I closed my eyes, seeing Vega’s devilish grin and her round belly.

  An ominous feeling weighed down on me. “Did something bad happen? Is everyone all right?”

  “Let’s take things slow,” Elric said. “Have a care not to do anything that will cause a shock to your body or mind right now. We don’t want to make your condition worse.”

  My heart thumped against my rib cage. “Is everyone okay? Josie and Khaba? Vega? Did you get married?” The last I remembered, she had been pregnant. Had Vega miscarried? I had the sense she had, but I didn’t know when that would have happened. It felt like months ago. And I thought I remembered her being pregnant again, but perhaps that had been a dream. I felt so confused.

  Elric’s frown faded as he gazed at me. “Pardon my bad manners. My family is quite well. Thank you for inquiring after them. Vega is, indeed, my wife. She wanted to wait until you woke so you could be her matron of honor, but ultimately we decided it was best not to delay too long.” A smile full of sunshine stretched across his perfect lips. He radiated beauty. Magic rolled off him in waves. “How do you feel, love? Did you get enough rest?”

  “I guess. How long have I been asleep?” I tried to sit up, but my diaphragm didn’t feel right, and it was difficult to breathe when I tried. My core muscles felt out of shape. Thatch’s expression remained grim.

  Elric touched my shoulder. “Don’t try to move yet. Give yourself a moment to adjust.” He sat beside me on the bed. His hip touched mine, but I didn’t feel his warmth. There was no pressure.

  This didn’t feel like a dream, but there were too many details that didn’t fit together. Thatch and Elric weren’t attacking each other, for one.

  “I’m done adjusting.” I lied. “What happened?”

  Thatch said nothing. He and Elric exchanged a look, like they had decided something between themselves without me. I couldn’t decipher what that might be.

  Elric turned back to me as if nothing was amiss. “It sounds like you had quite the adventure with the Raven Court. They’re perfectly barbaric if you ask me. And I’m sure you saw their fashion was at least three hundred years behind in the times.” He continued talking, the honey of his voice lulling me into a calm. Visions of watercolor projects filled my head. I would have liked to paint him about then. He was enchanting me.

  Even knowing he was at it, I didn’t want him to stop. I wanted to lap up the familiar comfort of his muse magic.

  “Pray tell, what did you dream about? Was it rainbows and fairies flitting in meadows?” He touched my chin to draw my attention. His green eyes reminded me of the forest, fresh with life in the spring. I could have sunk into those depths and rolled in the moss.

>   It was a distraction. I tore my gaze away from his, taking in Thatch’s rigid posture and stony expression. I squeezed his hand, trying to draw a response from him, but he didn’t react. He didn’t look in the least enchanted—he looked grumpier than ever—but he wasn’t complaining about Elric’s use of magic.

  That in itself should have been a warning sign.

  “Are you hungry?” As Elric sat on the bed facing me, he babbled on. “What shall I have the maids cook for you? Morty-friendly ingredients only—I promise. I’ll send for Vega to check it for Fae-grown residues to be certain it’s safe. She’ll do it right in front of you. That will make you feel more comfortable, won’t it?”

  I observed his hand pat my foot behind him, but I didn’t feel it. His hand massaged up my leg. Thatch shifted and leaned forward as if to push Elric away, but he didn’t. He sat on the edge of his seat, ready to pounce at any moment.

  I tried to wiggle my toes, but nothing happened. That was about the time the cold fingers of realization crept over me.

  Panic lodged itself in my throat, making it difficult to speak. “Why can’t I feel my feet?” I tried to sit up again, but my muscles wouldn’t allow me.

  Elric eased my shoulders back down against the pillows. “Listen to the sound of my voice. Look into my eyes, and let your worries wash away.”

  I was not going to let him enchant me. I avoided his gaze and looked to Thatch instead. “Why can’t I move?” I placed a hand on my belly. I didn’t feel my affinity inside me, but maybe I was in too much of a panic to feel anything other than my fear. “Do I still have magic? Was I drained?”

  Tears filled Thatch’s eyes. “Each time you wake, you’re worse.”

  My heart raced like a hummingbird’s.

  “Calm yourself.” Elric touched a finger to my heart and some of my panic died away. “Of course you still have magic,” Elric said cheerfully. “It’s just sleeping in you and needs to be awakened.”

  Thatch drew his hand away from mine and shifted farther away. His withdrawal at that moment couldn’t have hurt more if he’d made some cutting remark and stormed out. Perhaps it would have hurt less. That was more like the Thatch I knew. This silent, withdrawn man was someone else. The shaking in his hands grew worse. He folded his hands under his arms, perhaps to hide the tremors.

  My breathing grew frantic as I gasped for air. “What happened? What kind of accident was I in? Was it the Raven Queen?”

  “Hush, love. I need you to rest.” Elric smoothed my hair out of my face. “There’s my good little Witchkin. Lie back. I need to feel your spine.”

  Thatch stood. “You said you would heal her. Our agreement isn’t binding unless you fix her.”

  I looked from one to the other. “Will one of you just tell me what’s wrong with me?”

  “The problem isn’t the body. It’s the spirit.” Elric peeled the thick blanket back from the edge of the bed, slipping his hands underneath my back.

  He leaned close enough I could smell spring and trees, raindrops and earth on his skin. I knew from where his hands reached that he had slid them under my back and my hips, but there was no sensation other than a flutter of anxiety in my chest.

  “There was trauma to your energy center,” Elric said. “Your magic has been . . . extinguished.”

  “Do you mean I was drained? Who drained me? The Raven Queen?”

  “Red affinities are different from other affinities. You can never be completely drained, not like an Elementia or Amni Plandai. You can always recharge yourself if you’re given the correct fuel. Have I the correct way of it, Mr. Thatch?” Elric asked.

  Thatch grunted. He pretended to examine the crystals inlaid in the walls.

  Elric moved one hand out from under me and placed it on my belly. “You have experienced a physical and emotional trauma. We have attempted to revive you twelve different ways. None of them have lasted. Yet.”

  Panic started up in me again, but he wicked it away before it had time to settle.

  There was kindness in his eyes. “Don’t worry. We’ll get it right eventually.”

  We’d been through this before? Twelve times? I didn’t remember waking. Then again . . . maybe I did. I vaguely remembered Vega. Now that I thought about it, there was something about Imani too. She had tried to heal me too.

  “I need to use my affinity. Touch magic.”

  Elric nodded encouragingly.

  “Felix Thatch, you are my husband,” I said. “Stop acting so gloomy over there. Get in this bed right now and restore me with touch magic.”

  Elric laughed. “Don’t you love it when she’s bossy?”

  “This isn’t a Sleeping Beauty Curse,” Thatch said.

  “Just so,” Elric agreed. “It’s something worse.” He drew back from me and slapped Thatch on the back. “This is just what the doctor ordered. For both of you.” He walked away.

  Thatch stared at me, anguish in his eyes. “I can’t. I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “When have you ever hurt me? Come here.” When he didn’t budge, I tried the “magic” words Elric had told me Thatch needed to hear from my lips the last time he’d been reluctant to cure me. “I need you.”

  Tentatively, he shuffled closer. I saw a world of unspoken hurt in his eyes. More than anything, I wanted to take that pain away from him. He leaned down and kissed me.

  I smoothed a hand over his jaw. “If I fall asleep again, you have to promise me you’ll wake me up with touch.”

  “Anything for you.”

  Half an hour later my husband and I were in the throes of lovemaking, but I couldn’t feel anything happening below the waist. Despite the lack of physical sensation, my affinity slowly charged in my core, fueled by touch. The magic we generated made me feel complete. Pleasure inside me slowly built. Tingling pulsed across my limbs. I was growing stronger. Energy swelled inside me.

  Yet when Thatch pressed his lips to mine, I noticed how icy his flesh had become. Instead of growing flushed with heat, he grew paler than the white shirt he still wore. His eyes weren’t black like when he was overcome by pain magic. Sweat beaded up on his face, one cold drop plopping onto my forehead.

  “Are you all right?” I asked.

  “I’m fine,” he said through clenched teeth.

  He didn’t sound fine. Red particles flashed under his skin, migrating down his arm and into his hand where he touched me. I drank him in, savoring the sensation. He tasted divine. His magic washed over me, sweet and enticing. Feeling was returning to my limbs. I didn’t want him to stop.

  I had enough sense to realize what this meant.

  “Are you giving me energy?” I asked.

  “No. You’re depleted. Your affinity is taking.” He was so winded he could barely speak. “It’s fine. You need it.”

  Pleasure rose higher in me, making it difficult to concentrate. “How do I stop draining you?”

  His rhythm grew erratic. “Don’t worry about it.”

  How could I not worry? I had turned into a succubus.

  “We need to stop. You’re going to kill yourself.” I suspected I understood his unspoken reservations earlier.

  “You need to heal. You need this.” He said it, but he couldn’t go on. His movements became uncoordinated, and his body spasmed.

  He collapsed onto me, trembling with fatigue. “I can’t cure you. I’m not strong enough.” He buried his face in my hair and clutched me to him. “I’ve failed you.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  Thirteenth Time Is a Charm

  I squeezed Felix Thatch to me, suspecting his physical touch was the only thing anchoring me to this realm and keeping me from slipping off again. When I attempted to use my awareness, I couldn’t sense any magic in him. I prayed I hadn’t drained his reservoir of energy.

  Despair weighed heavily on my heart. Or it just might have been Thatch’s dead weight pressing against me.

  Thatch shuddered against me. “I’m so sorry.”<
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  The sound of Elric’s voice startled me. “Now, now, Romeo. Hope isn’t lost. No one is blaming you. It was a gallant attempt.”

  Thatch rolled off me and flinched back. I glanced at the closed door. I hadn’t heard Elric come in.

  “Have you no decency?” Thatch asked. “Am I not permitted one moment of privacy with my wife?”

  I drew the blankets up to cover my chest. I didn’t appreciate the interruption either.

  Elric wagged a finger at Thatch. “At any moment Clarissa might slip back into oblivion. Now is not the time for moping.” Elric looked to me. “Fear not, love. You just need the right touch to rekindle your flame. That’s all.” Elric winked at me as he said it, as if it were something sexual. Touch magic usually was for me.

  Elric took one of my feet, massaging the sole. It was the sort of thing that usually would have made my eyes roll back in my head with ecstasy, but I didn’t feel anything. I tried to remain calm, to tell myself my foot was simply asleep, but I knew it wasn’t.

  He sat on the edge of the bed. “Charging your affinity is something a powerful Fae can fix with ease.”

  Thatch snorted.

  I wasn’t so certain either. My body was broken. If I couldn’t feel him, I didn’t think even he could fix this problem.

  Thatch slid off the bed, retreating from me. His old-fashioned shirt was just long enough to cover his tushy as he retrieved his clothes from the floor.

  Elric frowned. “Try not to blame him. He’s having a hard time with this.”

  Thatch didn’t even look at me as he ducked behind the dressing screen.

  “Give him some time.” Elric leaned in closer, his tone conspiratorial. “He needs to work through his guilt.”

  Thatch’s voice came out a growl from the other side of the dressing screen. “I can still hear you. I don’t appreciate your commentary about things that are none of your concern.”

  Elric lowered his voice further. “He’s trying to protect you. From himself as much as anyone else. Now that it’s too late.”

  Protect me from what? Pain magic?

  “Close your mouth before I close it for you.” Thatch prowled from behind the dressing screen.