back. I could feel it in her magic every time she touched me. A blockage I couldn’t shake loose. There was some small part of herself that she kept wrapped up tight. Something she wouldn’t give up or allow to flow into me. Maybe it wasn’t my place to demand that piece of her too, but I wanted all of her, damn it.
It hurt that she held anything back from me.
She’d forgiven me. Of that I was sure. No lingering resentment remained in her magic, though she would’ve had a right to it. But that wasn’t how she worked. She was generous with her love and her forgiveness. More generous than I deserved, if I was being honest.
And while I hadn’t held anything back from her, I also hadn’t been alone like she had these last four years. She might not have even been aware that she was still protecting herself, especially where I was concerned. I got that. I hated it, but I got it.
Once we wrapped up this next experiment, I’d pull her aside and talk to her. See if I could reassure her and dispel her remaining fears. I was damn close to skipping out on everyone else altogether, but this had been Jocelyn’s idea, and asking her to ditch it because I was in my feelings wouldn’t exactly be a point in my favor for earning her trust.
We’d have to talk tonight though. Before I took her to bed again.
Normally, I’d just give it time, but time wasn’t something we had an abundance of. And as much as I hated to speed through this and push her when she was someone who liked to think things out, being pushed had gotten us much further than we ever could’ve gotten on our own. With as much baggage as we had between us, we would’ve been sorting out our issues over a dinner of creamed corn at the nursing home.
Score one for fate, I guess.
Lacing Jocelyn’s fingers through mine, I pushed all the love I had for her through our magic, letting it flow and twine around her. While her magic was both light and hard, like a steel rod under the softest putty, mine was loud and boisterous. Hers was generous and full, while mine ping-ponged between giving and taking so fast, any other type of magic would’ve shied away from mine or thought it greedy and inconsistent. Her magic tempered mine perfectly, while mine drew hers out to its fullest potential.
There was a reason why our magic worked together that went way beyond our birth charts and where we happened to have been born on the zodiac wheel.
Her fingers squeezed mine tighter. She hit me with that brilliant smile that had brought me to my knees when I’d been nothing more than a boy with a metric fuckton of demons. Fuck me. I was lost to this woman. All the way, ass over feet, fucking in love with her.
It killed me that she couldn’t see it. Killed me even more that the reason she couldn’t was my fault. As hard as I tried to let it go, that regret clung to me like a barnacle.
“Are you okay?” she whispered.
“Yeah.” I rubbed the back of my neck with my free hand. “Just overthinking. As I do.” I gave her a smile that was only mildly strained around the edges, but she’d seen it. Of course, she’d seen it. A punch of uncertainty came through her magic, and I pushed more of my reassurance back through mine.
I had to give her more than that, though, if I wanted to soothe the rougher edges of her magic. “I’m working through some old regrets, that’s all.”
The muscles in her shoulders relaxed. “Me too. Almost constantly. It’s exhausting. If I had it my way, I’d let this rest for a day or two and give my mind time to catch up to my feelings, but this timeline we’re on doesn’t leave a lot of room for reflection.”
“We got a raw fucking deal.”
“Our own fault.” She stopped and cupped my face. “But I’m in. I’m stumbling and trying to find my way in the dark, but I’m all in with you.”
“I’m in too. All the way.” I brushed my lips against hers, my cock already stirring from just that simple touch. She consumed me. The way no one else ever had.
“Move it along, peepshow.” Finn swatted my back as he passed. “You have your own room at the cabin, keep it in your pants until we’re not in public anymore. You’re not Donovan.”
Donovan rolled his eyes as he pulled Violet against him. “It was one time. In the privacy of my backyard, I might add.”
“Sorry, dude.” Finn shrugged. “This is a small town and you live in the residential sector. You brought that reputation on yourself.” When Violet giggled, despite her blush, Finn winked at her. “I see you, small fry. No judgment here.”
Donovan rolled his eyes again, but he couldn’t keep the satisfied smile off his face as he tugged Violet tighter against him. Their sky-blue summer magic swirled around them like a ribbon of stardust, whole and free from the complications that still lingered in mine and Jocelyn’s. I couldn’t help but feel a little jealous. I wanted that absolute connection and the combined magic that would signal our combined souls.
But our time would come. I wasn’t sure of a lot these days, but I was sure that Jocelyn and I had always been meant to be right here, just like this.
Once we got back to the cabin, Galen and Kenna did a quick sweep of the outer woods to make sure any lingering wisps of the curse’s smoke were cleaned up before we got started. The huge gaping chasm in Kenna and Galen’s backyard leaked with the scent of sulfur and foreboding. The air held the crackling stillness that would descend before a storm erupted. It was as if the very land under our feet was holding its breath.
Waiting for that last piece to click into place.
I held my arm out across Jocelyn’s chest as I stepped to the edge of the crevasse and peered down. We’d been shot with a spray of ocean water when the earth opened up, but there was nothing now but bits of rock and deep, endless darkness. I shuddered and backed away.
Of course, Galen wanted to drag out all his equipment and start testing right away, but we didn’t have that kind of time. All of us were running on very little sleep, and I still had personal work I needed to do with my partner before I could crash and recharge. Deepening our level of intimacy was just as vital as exercising control over our magic. They were symbiotic.
After everyone had gotten a good look at the chasm and offered up various theories that collapsed on each other, we moved our party to Brooke’s backyard. I glanced at her beehives, still quiet in the perpetual night, wanting to be back in that hidden greenhouse so bad, my mouth watered. Like a damn dog. Just a few licks of Jocelyn and I already had a conditioned response.
The twelve of us arranged ourselves in a circle, staying close to our partners in case the shit hit the fan and we needed fast access to magic. There was an energy that hummed through the twelve of us. Like we were merely posts between the wires that carried electrical charges from point A to point B.
Audrey shivered and rubbed her hands over her arms. “It feels like the night we called to Ceti, but different. More.” She turned to Brooke. “Are you feeling it?”
Brooke nodded. “Yeah. This is right. The twelve of us are supposed to work together.”
I had no idea what the hell they were talking about. I knew about Ceti, since Finn and Galen made it a point to keep me up to date on all things magic, even at the height of my stubborn jackassery. And I suspected the golden outline of the woman with stardust hair that appeared on the tail end of Jocelyn’s illusions had something to do with her, but I’d also missed a lot. I felt like a rookie. Part of the team, but still on the outskirts, waiting to prove myself.
Cole rubbed the back of Brooke’s neck, his fingers tangling gently in the wisps of honey-colored curls that had escaped her messy bun. “Even I can feel it, and I don’t feel anything magic-related anymore. There’s power here though.”
Wes nodded at Jocelyn. “This is your show. Tell us what you want us to do.”
Jocelyn’s eyes grew rounder as her fingers trembled in mine from the weight of everyone’s attention, but my girl was steel beneath putty, and her strong voice didn’t betray a shred of insecurity. She amazed me.
She cleared her throat. “I’m trying to solidify my illusions. Bring them to life, so to speak. If the curse can do it, then I should be able to do it too.”
No one looked at her like she was speaking out of turn, even though we’d only been practicing our magic for a few days and barely had a handle on it. I was immensely grateful while simultaneously ashamed of myself for being such an idiot for so long.
The only one who didn’t seem to be giving Jocelyn the benefit of the doubt was Galen. He’d never be outright rude or dismissive, but he watched her in that quiet, assessing way of his. He hadn’t been as close to Kyle as I had, but they’d still been friendly, and Kyle spent plenty of time at our house. But considering the way he’d come to blows with me over Kenna, I would’ve thought he’d be more receptive. I’d have to talk to him later.
“Forgive me for asking this, but why do you want to solidify your illusions?” Audrey tentatively raised her hand, even though she didn’t have a reserved or polite bone in her body, making it glaringly obvious just how uncomfortable everyone had become around Jocelyn over the last few years. My fault again. And a punch of stone-cold regret hit me. Again.
Would I ever get off this cycle of self-loathing?
I slipped my arm around Jocelyn, pushing more of my magic into her as a show of support the rest of them would feel and understand. But it wasn’t necessary. Jocelyn met Audrey’s questioning gaze with her own cool confident one. I’d never been prouder of her. This whole town had tried to kick her down and she never gave them an inch.
“I can’t explain it. There’s just this feeling…” Jocelyn pressed a hand against her stomach. “I have to do this. It matters.”
Audrey nodded at her, respect in her eyes, and her earlier stiffness melting away. “I never discount a gut feeling. Everything we’ve been able to accomplish so far has come down to trusting our intuition. What do you need from us?”
“I think we should spread out in a circle.” Jocelyn eyed the open land surrounding us, her gaze hesitating on the gaping hole in the yard. “Not too far, close enough to link hands.”
Everyone began moving apart as Jocelyn instructed us to hold on to the person standing nearest to us. The moment we all touched, the air around us began to vibrate. Like the lingering note on a piano after the last key had been struck.
Brooke’s bees exited their hives, but kept their distance, flying in a circle over their boxy homes. Their distant drone soft and melodic. The clouds overhead darkened, then abruptly scattered, revealing a universe full of stars shimmering against the inky sky.
Wes and Audrey’s golden-green rain, ice, and lightning fed into Thora and Finn’s glittery, pearlescent speed and healing, which connected to Donovan and Violet’s sky-blue ability to breathe underwater and talk to animals. Their light then fed into Kenna and Galen’s thickly twined purple and neon-green ropes of fiery invisibility, which then quietly passed untouched into Cole, but came alive again in Brooke’s bright primary red that could mold metal, grow plants, and harness the sun’s light. Finally, the power of ten elements passed through my bright white light and flowed into Jocelyn.
Something was missing, though. I could feel the weight of everyone’s powers, but they were muted, as if they were squeezing through the cracks of a dam rather than flowing freely. Maybe it was because Jocelyn and I hadn’t combined powers yet.
Which made sense, since we’d been tripping up this whole process from go. Even Cole, of all fucking people, got his shit together before us. And he’d never let me forget it either.
“I’m not sure how this will work, but I’m going to cast something.” A line of anxiety creased Jocelyn’s brow. Her uncertainty quivered like a taut wire against my magic, pulling on it instead of accepting it. “I’m not sure what to create.”
“Create something that makes you happy.” Galen’s strong, no nonsense voice cut through the night. His expression was stony and cut-off. It felt like a test.
I didn’t like it.
Jocelyn must’ve felt that too because she whipped her hair behind her shoulders and straightened her back. “Okay. I can do that, no problem.”
She thrust her hand outward, firing a blaze of blue into the center of the circle. Flickers of light rose up from the grass, sparks that formed pictures. Not illusions, but memories. Me, at thirteen, seeing Jocelyn for the first time sitting on Kyle’s handlebars. The two of us sitting on the stone wall by the beach, eating corn dogs and making up stories about the tourists. Sitting by a fire while Jocelyn rubbed her arms, wearing my shirt, trying to get warm after a November dip in the ocean. Sitting on my back porch, sharing a six-pack and laughing so hard beer came out our noses. Taking a ferry to the mainland, and the way she squeezed my hand before we docked, knowing it was my first trip to the city since the Wilders brought me to Zodiac Cove.
The look on her face after I’d told her she was my cup of butter, feeding my hunger. When I’d looked away, thinking she’d just been amused by me, and I’d missed how her eyes had softened, the way her pulse thrummed against her throat.
I thought I already loved Jocelyn in every sense of the word. She’d been my sun, my light in the dark, for as long as I could remember. But I’d been mistaken. It was obvious now that what I felt for her before didn’t touch right here and now. I didn’t just love her or want her or feel as if she was my other half. I literally couldn’t breathe on my own.
Without her, there was no me.
I glanced over at Galen who was now watching Jocelyn with a new kind of interest. Not with the touch of disdain that had been present before, but almost like he was seeing her from a different angle. Jocelyn probably didn’t understand exactly how much she’d revealed to the group with those memories, but a spark of sadness rolled through everyone on our joined magic. It seemed like they’d finally begun to understand just how far back Jocelyn’s feelings for me went. And just how deeply being apart had hurt us both.
At last, the center of the circle burst into an electric fireworks display of butterflies in every color of the rainbow. They flew around in circles, same as Brooke’s bees, like winged cats chasing their own tails. These weren’t the kind of butterflies found in nature though. Their delicate gossamer wings sparkled with starlight. Only magic could make these otherworldly creatures glow like that.
The inside of Jocelyn’s mind was a stunningly beautiful place. While I was fairly certain the inside of mine was just a dude standing in front of a bonfire saying, “Hold my beer.”
One of the butterflies broke loose from the circle and fluttered in front of Violet. She lifted her finger to give it a landing spot but it zipped right through her before disappearing altogether. The illusion was only able to hold steady for so long.
“You’ve got this, buttercup.” I pushed more of my magic into her as I felt her concentration begin to burn her out.
I didn’t understand why making her illusions solid seemed so important. She hadn’t really been able to explain it herself, but if this was what she needed, I’d support her in every way possible. I had a lot of making up to do in that area.
“This isn’t right. Something is missing.” She dropped her hand and let go of me. The light on her palm dimmed and the butterflies faded, leaving behind a faintly golden light and the outline of a woman that disappeared before I could blink.
“Oh, my God.” Brooke slapped a hand over her mouth. She tugged on Cole’s sleeve and pointed at the now empty center of the circle. “Did you see that?”
“I sure as fuck did.” Cole raised his blazing gaze to Jocelyn. “Do that again.”
Her brow scrunched in confusion. “The butterflies?”
He waved a hand. “Butterflies, puppies, I don’t give a fuck. Cast any illusion.”
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before releasing a vision of Cole taking a pie to the face. Everyone around the circle laughed, including, much to my surprise, Cole.
“Okay, now let it go,” he said.
Jocelyn dropped her hand and the same outline of the woman appeared before disappearing again. A murmur broke out among the couples. A few brave wisps of smoke slithered out of the woods, as if trying to get close enough to eavesdrop. Galen sent them scattering with a flick of his wrist.
“What’s going on?” I asked. Apparently, there was something to Jocelyn’s illusions that we hadn’t been clued in on.
“How often have you seen that woman after casting an illusion?” Thora asked.
“I’m not sure.” Jocelyn shifted on her feet. “I think she’s always been there, but the outline became clearer when I cast a full memory.”
The memory of us on the beach. When I’d let it slip that looking directly at her was like looking at the sun. Probably the first time she’d really understood that my feelings for her weren’t brand new. Just thinking about that day twisted up my insides.
If only…
Though Jocelyn didn’t give details on the memory, everyone around the circle nodded. As if this all made perfect sense to them, while Jocelyn and I were still completely clueless. But a nagging sensation tugged at the back of my neck. And I had a feeling that the woman I thought appeared just for me and Jocelyn hadn’t just been for us after all.
“Is someone going to tell us what’s going on?” I asked. “I understand that we’re a lot newer at this than all of you, but if you want our help, maybe you should act like we’re part of this team and not a couple of toddlers you have to drag kicking and screaming behind you.”
“Sorry.” Finn grimaced. At least he had the decency to look ashamed, unlike Kenna, who looked at me as if this was my own damn fault. Like I didn’t already know that. “That’s not just any woman lingering in your illusions, Jocelyn. That’s Ceti.”
Jocelyn’s eyes widened. “How can you be so sure of that?”
“We’ve seen her,” Wes said. “The ten of us. Right before Cole, uh… moved things along with you and Rafe.”
He went on to elaborate on what had happened with the golden flutes and the things Ceti had told them. And all the discussions we’d been left out of because we’d been locked in Jocelyn’s apartment like a roomier version of a Get Along T-shirt. Which I couldn’t regret, no matter how much the desperate measures everyone had taken to put us together shamed me.
Jocelyn frowned as she processed this new information in that quiet way of hers. She’d turn it over in her mind and draw her own conclusions before sharing them out loud. Though there were some things we already knew, like Cole losing his magic to save Brooke the last time Nirah launched a full-fledged attack. We’d been filled in on the basics of that night without the deeper parts included.
Maybe they didn’t want to put more pressure on us by letting us know that everyone’s survival depended on our reconciliation. Understandable. The pressure had still been there, of course, but not nearly as strong as if we’d heard the undeniable proof from the dead half of Nirah’s soul that we were necessary.
“How were you positioned when you played the golden flutes?” Jocelyn asked.
Everyone fell silent.
“We picked the flutes that called to us,” Brooke said, “which just happened to be where we’d be positioned on the zodiac wheel.”
Jocelyn nodded, like this information didn’t surprise her in the least. “Let’s try that again. I think that might be the thing we’re missing.”
The couples charged their energy before breaking apart, taking positions directly across from each other. Perfect opposites all around. This time was different. The awe in everyone’s expressions let me know I wasn’t the only one who felt the change.
Our magic reached out to each other through the chain we formed as twelve. A brilliant kaleidoscope of light against the dark. When it reached Jocelyn, her palms flared with brilliant blue so deep it almost appeared indigo. The small hairs on my arm rose with the current as it moved through her and into Cole, then on to Galen, creating a perfect, unbroken circle. Something stronger than love, more primal than lust, and more fulfilling than trust linked us together. Something older than the stars we’d been born from.
This was what it felt like to grab hold of our fate.
Once again, Jocelyn produced a branch, exactly like the one she’d conjured when we were practicing earlier. The strain showed in the pinched corners of her eyes and the quiver of her bottom lip. She looked across the circle at me. “Hit it with your telekinesis. Now.”
A blast of bright white light erupted from my hand.
And the branch Jocelyn had created, the illusion that wasn’t real, lifted a few inches off the ground before flickering and disappearing altogether.
