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Alma raised an eyebrow.
“It should at least help you function.”
Alma nodded. If her grandmother had given Dylan the recipe, she had to trust it would work—at least a little bit. “I’ll drink it in a minute.”
Dylan watched her for a moment as she finished shuffling and began blindly spreading them. She looked down at the cards, seeing most of the same cards once again. She was too close to the problem. She tried to read deeper into the cards. She understood the choice she would have to make involved not only Alex, but the mysterious third influence, which was fleshed out with the King of Swords in this spread. Alma shook her head and sighed, scooping the cards up and putting them back into the deck, straightening them and putting them back into the case. She bit her bottom lip, deciding she would have to decide for herself; the cards weren’t going to give her the answer she sought.
“Let’s see that potion,” Alma said, standing and putting the deck away in her underwear drawer once more. She avoided looking too closely at Dylan; just being in his proximity made her feel distracted. He handed her the mug.
“It has chamomile, lemon balm, passionflower, apple, and a little vervain. It’ll taste weird, but it should do the trick—infused with water- and earth-aligned ingredients.”
Alma nodded, sipping it. It was warm, but not overly hot. It didn’t taste as bad as some potions her grandmother had given her over the years; it was slightly sweet, almost a little minty from the lemon balm and vervain. As she drank it in, she felt the power coursing through her recede to a low, constant hum. It wasn’t like being normal, but at least it was something she could deal with. Her thoughts slowed, the wind outside abated. Alma finished the drink quickly, grimacing at the lingering sweetness clinging to the back of her throat. It wasn’t the worst thing she’d ever drunk, but she would be glad when the need for it was no longer so strong.
“I think you’ll need to make that for me again before we go out,” Alma said. Although she could feel the magic of the potion working through her, she could already feel the elemental energy transforming her beginning to go to work overwhelming it. Her innate magic did not like to be suppressed and grounded—not when it would be at its peak within twenty-four hours. She took a deep breath. “Okay, let’s go to the mall.”
seventeen
Alma maintained her self-control while they were shopping, but with great difficulty. She kept her gaze on the ground in front of her, glancing up at the store signs to find the ones she wanted. The potion Dylan had given her had suppressed the power coursing through her body, but it had done little to subdue the lust. In addition to the close proximity of Finn and Dylan, her desire-hazed brain latched on to the good-looking men in close proximity. She was easily distracted, losing her train of thought whenever she spotted someone even slightly attractive, forgetting what store she was looking for. Dylan and Finn tried not to touch her; she was still overly sensitive, her nerves lighting up to every brush of a hand against her arm or shoulder.
Finally, she located the stores she wanted, and Dylan and Finn waited patiently as she moved through the racks indecisively. It was a special birthday and she wanted to look her best, not only because of the occasion, but because she had decided whether or not it was a good idea, she wanted Alex. The tarot cards had been unclear; she knew that she had difficulties ahead, but didn’t know what form they would take. Alma was aware of the store clerks watching with amusement as she tried on different dresses, showing them to Dylan and Finn and eliciting their feedback. She knew Finn had lost interest in the exercise quickly, but Dylan was patient, commenting on both the strong points and the weaknesses of each attempted outfit. After half a dozen dresses, Alma pulled the final selection on, zipped it up, and stood before the mirror; compared to some she had tried before, it was almost demure. The skirt fell almost to her knees with satiny folds that flowed from underneath the bust. The plunging neckline and sleeveless top paired with its colors: vivid red with a black bow and black shoulders, was daring enough that Alma felt a rush of sensuality. She slipped on a pair of black patent heels and spun in the confines of the dressing room, giggling with almost girlish delight. The plunging neckline demanded a different bra from the one she wore, and she thought that a pair of stockings would complete the look—but it was perfect.
She stepped out of the dressing room to where Dylan and Finn were waiting for her final attempt. Dylan’s eyes widened and he gave Finn a shove to call his attention to Alma’s appearance before them. Finn stopped looking around idly, and Alma felt her sense of undirected lust fasten on him as he stared, taking in every inch of her. “Oh my god,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “You…you could kill a man, looking like that.”
Alma blushed, smiling shyly, her heart pounding in her chest. She reminded herself firmly again she had no interest in them, that she was reacting to the desire pulsing a constant dance up and down her veins, to their admiring glances. She licked her lips unconsciously, trying to control her sudden need to pull Finn into one of the dressing rooms and let him rip the dress off of her.
“I think you’ll be torturing pretty much every man—and likely women—in that dress. It’s perfect,” Dylan said, grinning at her.
Alma felt her shy smile spread wider with the warmth of being desired, knowing both of the men were reacting to her physique and the way the dress emphasized each one of her strengths. She almost didn’t want to take it off, the feeling was so potent. But she knew walking around the mall, finishing errands, would be difficult in the dress and heels. She retreated into the dressing room, stripping carefully out of the dress and slipping into the clothes she had come into the shop in, taking a few moments to calm herself. It would be soon enough, she thought, her mind turning to Alex.
She got through the last of her purchases—some makeup, the stockings she wanted, and a better bra—just as the potion Dylan had given her was wearing off. “We need to go home,” she said lowly. “Now.” She was becoming overwhelmed by the feeling of increasing energy in her body, her senses in overdrive, her mind propelled to startling lengths of lightning-fast thought. When they stepped out into the parking garage, she heard the wind picking up, and slid into the back seat of the car, closing her eyes, and focusing all of her mind on controlling the potent power welling inside of her. She would have to be on her best behavior, at least until she got alone with Alex. She didn’t care if her lack of control started a tornado; as long as she could be with him, she would risk it.
eighteen
By the time Alex arrived at the bar where Alma, Finn, and Dylan met with her friends, Alma had put down two strong drinks, her friends refusing to let her pay. Melissa and Carmen were both curious about the two men who had accompanied her, and Alma had struggled to maintain her composure, introducing the brothers as friends of her family. When Alex arrived, with Dolores in tow, Alma’s status among her friends—as the luckiest woman in the world—was solidified. Alma could barely restrain herself as Alex approached where they sat on the patio, karaoke in progress. He wore a deep red shirt, matching her dress, with a fitted black blazer and pants. Dolores had worn a deep, dark green cocktail dress, which set off her creamy pale skin and vivid hair. Alma’s friends hooted as Alex approached, immediately taking her in his arms and kissing her on the lips. “Happy early birthday, love,” he murmured, smiling down at her. “If this was not such a frightfully public place, I’d be happy to take that dress off of you—as good as it looks on, it would look smashing on a floor.” Alma felt herself blushing a deep crimson, her blood flowing faster from the combination of alcohol and steady lust. Even before Alex had arrived, Alma had found it difficult—in spite of the second potion Dylan had made her, stronger than the first—to restrain her desire-filled impulses.
Alex greeted her friends cordially before he noticed her drink was empty, and insisted gallantly on replacing it. Dolores settled next to Finn as Alma, deprived of Alex’s distracting company, felt a familiar twinge of jealousy watching the two of them becoming very cozy. Her friends were vying for Dylan’s attention in the absence of his brother’s and Alma felt her impatience increasing the longer Alex was away. She looked around and saw him talking to the karaoke emcee, charming the woman with a ready smile, two drinks and two shots carefully cradled in his hands. He broke away from her quickly, making his way back to Alma.
“I’m sorry I was gone so long,” he told her, looking directly into her eyes. “Will you ever forgive me?” Alma, slightly tipsy and feeling the effects of the increasing elemental energy flowing through her body, felt the push on her mind, the drawing in of Alex’s will against hers. She raised an eyebrow, wanting to warn him she was wise to his game without saying anything in front of her friends.
“I will if one of those drinks is for me,” she said, gesturing to the contents of his hands.
Alex grinned broadly and held out the two full cups, waiting until she chose one before he offered the shots as well. “Drink and shot, my dear. It’s your birthday, after all.”
Alma colored, taking one shot and downing it with Alex in the same moment. She chased the sharp, heady liquor with a sip of the refreshing drink he had chosen, for the moment indifferent that she was mixing alcohols. The alcohol entered her system and things softened, her sense of time deteriorating. It was fortunate she had Dylan to watch out for her, to make sure she didn’t do or say anything she would regret. Finn, she thought when she wasn’t drawn into Alex’s warm charm, was useless as a bodyguard, wrapped up in Dolores’s attentions.
It seemed like only a few moments later when the karaoke emcee called Alex’s name, and Alma regarded him with shock.
“Didn’t I mention? I love to perform,” he murmured, giving her arm a quick squeeze that sent a jolt of intense desire through her. He gave her a little grin and nimbly trotted across the courtyard, jumping onto the stage and looking out over the gathered crowd. “I’d like to dedicate this to the most gorgeous birthday girl in the world,” he said into the microphone, gesturing to Alma. She found herself moving closer to the stage, drawn as if a moth to a flame. He slipped off his jacket, and Alma was staring at him with unabashed lust, trying to control the rising wind that shuddered the leaves of the tree arched over the patio. In the span of a few heartbeats, she recognized the song: Muse, “Supermassive Black Hole.” Alma’s eyes widened and she thought her desire for Alex would either become unbearable, or squashed, depending on how he performed.
He had chosen his song well. Alma almost swooned as he sang, looking directly at her.
“Ooh, baby don’t you know I suffer/ ooh baby can you hear me moan…”
His falsetto was nearly flawless, and as he moved into the chorus, Alma danced to the heady beat, not closing her eyes as the intoxicating sensation of Alex singing directly to her washed over her.
Alma inhaled sharply as the song continued, her hips shifting and twisting, her body swaying without direction from her brain, her instincts ruling her. She was smiling up at him, watching him move to the music as he sang, every moment calculated, she knew, to drive home his intense attraction.
“Glaciers melting in the dead of night, and a super star sucked into the supermassive….”
