Page 31 of Strings Attached
I reach for my magic—the power that’s always hummed beneath my skin, stronger than most. Slowly, I lift my hand and offer it to her, palm up between us. Magic doesn’t require gestures. Not really. But we teach them to children as a way to focus, to ground, to steady the surge of power.
Apparently, at this moment, I need the crutch too.
Stars bloom around us, constellations dancing in the air. Comets streak past her shoulders, their light playing across her skin and making her eyes shimmer with a soft, ethereal glow.
I brace for her scream. For her stumbling away from me. For the terror that will force me to become everything I swore I’d never be again. And I’ll have to be the one to clean it up. I’d already committed to the council that I’d handle it and?—
Missy laughs. She reaches out to touch a star, and it sizzles around her fingers. “This is magic,” she whispers, then looks at me with wonder in her eyes. “This is real magic?”
“Yes.” I retreat to a one-word answer, gruffly spoken and tensed muscles. I was prepared for fear, for betrayal, for panic.
But joy? I don’t know what to do with joy.
Missy reaches for another star but her gaze slips backs to my face. She lowers her hand. “Or, is it not? Real, I mean.”
“It’s real.”
“The entire town?”
“Runs on magic, yes.”
“And your actual job is?”
I swallow hard, hands fisted in my pockets. Here’s the moment of truth. “Head Warlock of Magnolia Cove.”
She mouths the word ‘warlock,’ eyes wide. I steel myself. I’m a complicated person to imagine dating even for magical beings—most find my power intimidating, my dedication to rules frustrating. For a human musician who values freedom and creativity, who still has an entire world of stages and spotlights ahead of her…
She crosses to me and presses her lips against mine. I’m almost afraid to touch her, certain this can’t be real. The shock will wear off. The panic will come.
“Missy, aren’t you afraid?”
She looks up at me, mischief and starlight dancing in her eyes. “Would it make you feel better if I was? I’m a mediocre actress but I’ll give it a try.”
Her eyes go comically wide as she clutches her hand to her chest. “Oh no,” she gasps with all the dramatic flair of the lead actress in a middle school play. “Magic! How terrifying! What shall I do?” She pretends to swoon, then ruins the effect by giggling. “Was that scared enough? I can try screaming if you’d prefer, but the acoustics in here seem excellent. I’d hate to deafen you.”
The laugh that bursts from me feels like breaking chains. I pull her into my arms, spinning her through starlight until we’re both dizzy with it.
We end up on the floor by the telescope, my back against the wall and Missy curled against my chest. I tell her everything I can—how Magnolia Cove’s food and scenery pulse with magic that subtly enhances them, how wards keep most humans from noticing but there are exceptions like her and Alex, how we have an observatory because magic runs on seasonal changes and planetary alignment. While she was studying music theory in college, I was learning astrology and magical law.
I explain about Emma, about magical children who can’t leave magical pocket communities unless they master their powers. How there are some members of our community who want to see her rise into magical leadership, but I don’t want thatforced on her. I want her to follow her passion if possible. But sometimes, for people like us, magical beings who can access so much, it isn’t possible.
“When did you start playing?” she asks, fingers tracing patterns on my arm.
“After my magic manifested. My parents thought learning to resonate with it might help me control my powers.” I offer a half-smile at the memory. It didn’t help as much as they’d hoped, but maybe they were on to something. Missy’s playing certainly steadies my abilities. “I mostly used it to annoy Nell with terrible covers.”
“I can’t imagine you playing terrible covers.”
“I was very committed to being misunderstood.”
Her laughs make the stars dance, and I wonder what she does to the magic. About all the things I don’t know. About the future she’s opened up to me I’ve never considered before. Her next question makes my breath catch, though.
“Was that why you couldn’t tell me before? About Nell? Because whatever happened involved magic?”
I force myself to meet her gaze. “Yes. Nell fell in love with a human her senior year of high school. He had a… normal reaction to learning about magic.”
“Oh?” Her lips twitch. “You mean he didn’t give you an amateur dramatic performance?”
“Your acting is terrible,” I say, but then the humor drains from my voice. “He panicked. Spread the information quickly. Our Head Warlock was away, and we didn’t have time for a careful solution.” I pause, jaw tightening. “You have to understand—when word gets out about magic, it never ends well. Humans don’t typically respond with wonder. They respond with fear. And fear turns into control. Containment. Violence.”
