"Puberty," Catcher said, relaxing back into the booth. "You've just come into your powers."
I snorted out a laugh. "And you thought the weird body hair and pimples were the end of it."
Mallory elbowed me in the gut. "What powers? It's not like I'm out there waving a magic wand or something."
"A sorcerer's power doesn't work like that. We're not spell casters - no charms, no recipes, no cauldrons. We don't have to invoke it or ask for it. We don't draw it through a wand or the combination of words and ingredients. We pull it through our bodies, merely by the strength of our own will." Catcher crooked a thumb at me. "She's a predator, a genetically altered human, tempered by magic. Her magic is accidental; vamps notice it more than humans, have a greater awareness of it than humans, but can't control it. We are vessels of magic. We keep it. Channel it. Protect it."
At Mallory's blank expression, Catcher said, "Look, have you recently decided that you wanted something, and then got it? Something unexpected?"
Mallory frowned and nibbled on the end of a sausage link, a move I noted was watched with avidity by Jeff.
"Not that I can think of." She looked at me. "Something I wanted and got?"
That was when it hit me. "Your job," I answered. "You told Alec you wanted the job - next day, you had it."
Mallory paled, and turned to Catcher. "Is that right?" There was sadness in her expression, probably dismay at the possibility that she hadn't gotten the job at
McGettrick because of her qualifications or creativity, but because she'd made it happen, the result of some supernatural force she could flick on like a light switch.
"Maybe," Catcher said. "What else?"
We frowned, considered. "Helen," Mallory said. "I wanted her out of the House - virulently. I opened the door, told her to get out, and poof, she's on the stoop." She gazed up at Catcher. "I thought if you revoked a vampire's invitation they got sucked out?"
Catcher shook his head, his expression radiating quiet concern. They'd be good for each other, I decided. Her energy, expressiveness, impulsiveness, creativity, matched against his smart-ass solidity.
"They leave by rule, by paradigm. Not by magic. That was your doing."
Mallory nodded and let the sausage fall back to her plate.
"You can try it, if you want. Right now, while I'm here." Catcher's voice was soft, thoughtful. Mallory's gaze on the table, she wet her lips. Finally, after a long silence, she looked up.
"What do I do?"
Catcher nodded. "Let's go," he said, reaching back into his jeans pocket. He pulled out a beaten black leather wallet, then slipped cash from the center fold and laid it on the table. After he'd leaned forward to push the wallet back in, he rose from the booth and held his hand out to Mallory. She paused, looked at it, but let him help her up and out. They headed for the door.
Jeff swallowed the remaining inch of his orange juice, then put the empty tumbler back on the table, and we both followed.
Outside, the rain had finally stopped. Catcher led Mallory, her hand still in his, around the restaurant. Jeff and I exchanged a glance, but hurried to keep up.
Catcher walked a block or so until he and Mallory stood directly beneath the El, then positioned her body so they stood facing each other. Jeff stopped five yards from them and put a hand on my arm to stop me, too.
"Close enough," he whispered. "Give them room."
"Give me your hands," I heard Catcher tell her, "and keep your eyes on me."
She hesitated, but held out her hands, palms up.
"You're a channel," he said. "A conduit for the energy, the power." He held out his own hands, palms down, over hers, a little space between them.
For a second, there was nothing but the sounds of the city. Traffic. Conversation down the street. The thud of a hip-hop bass line. The drip of water from the tracks above us.
"Wait for it," Jeff whispered. "Watch their hands."
It happened simultaneously, the roar of the train overhead and the glow that began to gather in the space between their outstretched fingers.
Mallory's eyes widened; then Catcher mouthed something and her eyes lifted. They gazed at each other, Catcher telling her things I couldn't hear over the grate and rumble of the El.
The glow built, grew into a sphere, a golden orb of light between them.
The train completed its pass, the sudden silence a vacuum of sound.
"I can feel it," Mallory said, gaze dropping to her hands and the light between them.
"What do you feel?" Catcher asked.
She looked up at him, their faces illuminated by the glow.
Chemistry, I thought, my lips tilting into a smile at the mix of joy and surprise on her face.
"Magic," Jeff whispered beside me.
"Everything," Mallory answered.
"Close your eyes," Catcher told her. "Breathe it in."
She gave a hesitant nod. Her lids fell, and then she smiled. The orb grew, engulfed their hands, arms, torsos until it was a yellow bubble of light encasing them both. The air electrified, the breeze of magic fluttering my bangs and Jeff's floppy hair.
And then with a pop, it was gone, a plane of yellow mist dissipating into the air around them.
Mallory and Catcher, arms still outstretched, stared at each other.
He lifted his gaze. "Not bad at all."
"As if you've had better, Bell."
I grinned. That was my girl, magic funnel or not. She'd be okay, I decided.
They dropped their arms and rejoined us.
"So, what the hell was that, exactly?"
Catcher looked my way. "Need-to-know basis, vamp. And you do not need to know right now."
The magic demonstration concluded, we headed back to the block on which we'd left our cars, my chunky Volvo, Catcher's hipster sedan, and Jeff's old hatchback.
"Plans?" Catcher asked.
Jeff grinned. "It's a Friday night, I'm off work early, and I'm gonna chat with this cute kid from Buffalo. She's blond and curvy in all the right places, so I need to get home and get online." He elbowed Catcher. "Right, C.B.?"
"I told you not to call me that."
"It's, you know, so we have a thing, the two of us. You know."
Catcher gazed at Jeff. "I don't know, Jeff. I really, really don't." But when Jeff began to explain, Catcher held up a hand. "Nor am I interested." He looked at Mallory and me. "Plans?"
We shook our heads.
"There's a club in River North that looks cool." Catcher pulled a flyer from his pocket. It was similar to the one that had been left beneath my wipers when my car was parked outside Cadogan, advertising Red. "It's not too far from the gym."