It was a sensual feeling. The wet bristles scraping, feather light against her skin. Like a man’s stubble. Once more the image of Tyghe pressing her against an outside wall sprang to mind. Only this time, Callie wasn’t embarrassed. This time she took him with as much ferocity and need as he was taking her. She didn’t care about the crowd. Didn’t care about losing control. She reveled in it. Wanted it. Wanted to claim him.
Callie was so lost in the fantasy that the flash of blue-green energy took her by surprise, an electric shock whipping through her system and arching her off the bed.
Something was inside her, reacting to Harrison and Jenner’s energy, reaching for it. Her spine was buzzing, bones vibrating almost painfully. Had something gone wrong? Was it working?
As if from far away she could hear Harrison’s gasp and Jenner’s serene response. “There now. You did a good job, dear.”
“I can’t believe it. All this time.”
Callie tried to talk. What can’t you believe, Harrison? All this time what? But she felt separated from her body, floating above the bed.
Jenner spoke once more. “I think it might be best to keep this to ourselves for a spell. Your family may not react well. Especially your brothers.”
“My broth—oh hell, don’t tell me, Jenner. I don’t think I want to know. We’ll keep quiet. For now. But you and I need to have a private chat. Soon. And Callie—”
“Will be fine. Let’s let her rest now, shall we?”
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Deserves to know what? Am I dying? It feels a little like I’m dying. Callie was frantically trying to regain control of her body, her vocal chords, but the blue-green energy surrounded her. It began to combine with a lovely violet that calmed her, soothed her. She should sleep. She needed to sleep. Needed to dream.
At least she wasn’t a hamster this time.
Chapter Two
“So then he said, ‘Charity, would you rather the dragon sleep in the bed?’”
Callie chuckled along with the others at the hairdresser’s punch line. Her laughter was more hysterical relief than reaction to the woman’s tale of woe at her Magian mates and their unusual pets.
She was doing it. Fooling them. No one had questioned the story Harrison had devised, that Callie was a distant cousin from an obscure branch of the Abbott family. Harrison, being the powerful, benevolent wunderkind that she was, had decided to take her under her wing, and introduce her to the eligible Magian males of Boston. Yes, the women in the chairs beside her were eyeing her up and down as potential competition, but none of them knew she wasn’t a witch. Wasn’t magical.
She wasn’t even sure anymore. When she’d wakened yesterday, she’d felt nauseous, disoriented. Different. Jenner had fed her a light broth and cooed over her, taking care of her as she always had. She’d told Callie that she would have to take it slow, until they discovered what kind of power the spell had drawn out of her. Harrison had done her best to make it innocuous, she’d said, something she couldn’t accidentally injure herself with. Only time would tell.
Both of the women had been extremely satisfied, though Harrison seemed less and less sure of their plan as the hours passed. But even she agreed, her senses were telling her Callie was Magian. Like them. Though they knew differently, it was still strong enough that it would fool everyone who mattered. Including, Callie hoped, the one they were searching for.
There was something on the edge of her memory, something she’d wanted to ask her about what happened during the spell, but for the life of her Callie couldn’t remember what it was.
Now she was sitting in an exquisitely beautiful day spa, getting her hair done by a Magian stylist. The only problem was, this place shouldn’t exist. Yesterday when she’d passed this building it had been abandoned, boarded up. Jenner had told her the Magian world worked a little differently than hers. That, in order for them to thrive and co-exist with humans, they’d had to make a few minor dimensional adjustments.
This didn’t seem minor. She didn’t think anything with the word dimensional in it could be. To Callie it was all so…so…wonderful. Right out of a dream or a movie. A large spa filled with gold and marble, bustling with women in various stages of undress, some in facial masks, some in wraps that glistened with magical light. Her fellow human beings were walking and driving by, none of them knowing the wonders that were a sprinkling of fairy dust away. But this was no fairytale. It was real. She was here. And Charity, the chatty hairdresser, was asking her a question. “What?”
Charity wrinkled her nose as she studied Callie’s long, dirty-blonde hair. “I was just wondering where you’d had your hair done before today. Did your family go to those human chop shops? I know some Magians aspire to fit in, but there are standards that no one should ever have to drop below.” She shook her head sadly. “These ends are just abysmal, and you need a condition spell in the worst way.”
Callie blushed, ducking her chin in embarrassment. Harrison, her own dark locks wrapped in a towel that was literally massaging her head as Callie looked on, stomped over to glare at the woman. “My cousin lost her mother when she was young. She never had anyone to show her how to pamper herself.” She looked Charity up and down. “I brought her here because I heard you were the best, that a Magian left this place feeling like a queen. Was it all hype? A false advertising enchantment?”
Charity paled and swallowed as she studied Harrison Abbott. Callie could see the hairdresser’s mental wheels spinning. The Abbott family was a prestigious one. She did not want to risk her job, her reputation, by pissing them off.
The woman shook her head. “No, no. I only meant…well, she is naturally beautiful, of that there is no doubt. Truly, it would hardly take much work on my part to make her the belle of the Triune.” She began to run her fingers through Callie’s hair again. “Yes. This can be fixed. A shimmer rinse, a snip here and there. You’ll hardly recognize yourself. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
Harrison winked at Callie before strolling leisurely back to the table where she’d been getting a manicure. A young woman shifting uncomfortably beside her drew her attention.
Callie had never seen a Magian biting her nails before. The telling tickle up her spine was going crazy. As Charity began to work in industrious silence, Callie made eye contact. “You okay?”
The girl’s hazel eyes widened, and she glanced around quickly to see if her mother, talking to a group of older women in the corner, had heard the question. When it became obvious she hadn’t, her neighbor responded in hushed, intimidated tones. “F-fine. You’re Harrison Abbott’s cousin?”
“Something like third cousin twice removed on my mother’s side, but yes.” She saw the girl’s lip twitch at her attempt at humor, and smiled. “My name is Callie, what’s yours?”
“Veronica. My friends call me Ronnie.” She bit her thumbnail anxiously, watching Charity’s efficient movements before connecting with Callie’s gaze once more. “You don’t seem nervous about next week.”