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Nessa drops down to her haunches, bracing her elbows on her thighs. “What’s wrong with it?”
The woman pats her shoulder patronisingly, her gaze full of pity—like she feels sorry for her level of stupidity. “He’s magically drugged up, of course. A few whispered words to dissipate the spell once he’s where you want him and he’ll be right as rain. Back to the ferocious beast he was in the wild.”
A mean glint enters the shop owner’s eyes as she stares at the beast and I tense. If she harms it in front of me, I don’t think I could hold myself back. Turns out I needn’t worry though.
Nessa stands, dropping the act, pushing her shoulders back as she meets the woman’s beady gaze head on. She takes a slow breath as though centering herself then the candy scent of her magic fills the space and her eyes begin to shift. Red spiderwebs weave through her eyes, turning the gold to a fragmented marble-like mixture. “I’ve heard and seen enough. I’m going to return them to the places you stole them from then set them free from your spell. Then you’re going to free any others you have imprisoned, and finally you’re going to destroy each and every one of your horrendous traps. And you’re never going to come in contact with another creature again, no traps, no pets, no nothing. If I find out that you’ve gone against any of this, I will hunt you down and do to you everything that you’ve done to these creatures.”
I swallow hard and step back from Nessa. The power building inside her is like physical waves of hot air brushing against my skin uncomfortably as she centres her focus on the woman. My lips part and I take yet another step back as the red totally eclipses the gold of her eyes and her irises start to glow like burning embers. Sense smacks into me when she focuses all that power on the owner of the store and I quickly conjure a barrier sealing the tent from everyone, making it so no one can enter—also in hopes to contain Nessa’s power in case she loses control. It’s also soundproof and the need for that becomes abundantly clear when the woman starts screaming like the hounds of hell are coming down on her.
Then the seizing starts.Goddess, what is Nessa doing to her?
The woman’s complexion shifts to a concerning shade of grey and her knees buckle, her face contorted in terror, eyes flickering behind her eyelids as though she’s being chased by an unseen villain.
Nessa on the other hand appears rejuvenated, her skin glowing, posture confident, yet relaxed at the same time and her power is an audible electrical buzz through the air.
I swallow as her head cocks to the side slowly, eyes never wavering from the shop owner. This time when she speaks her voice is full of magic. “You will do everything I have said or I will be back and next time I won’t stop. Count your lucky stars that I haven’t taken this any further.”
It’s eerie as hell and I suck in a centering breath, then consciously work to relax my body. The woman falls to her knees, eyes open wide, as she gazes at Nessa. “I will, you have my word.”
Apparently Nessa deems that enough as she lets go of her magic and once it’s gone it’s as though my ears have popped. Children scream, people talk, babies cry, laughter and other sounds from the market filter back in. It’s surreal. As though everything that just happened was a daydream.
I blink repeatedly as I shove the thoughts away and meet Nessa’s—thankfully—golden eyes, her magic now safely tucked away. She sends me a smile and grabs my hand, dragging me out of the shop, that happy bounciness from earlier returning full force. “What do you want to do next?”
“I think I saw some carnival game stalls that way,” I answer absently, gesturing to our right, but I’m too busy watching Nessa incredulously to really focus on anything else. How the hell does she just switch it on and off like that? Most supes would be extremely drained after using that much magic and probably need to go into a healing sleep for a few days to recuperate, but Nessa looks like she’s just had a few cans of Fae juice—the fae’s version of human energy drinks. My brows draw low as we move through the crowd, still lost in my head.
My stomach clenches and I break out in a cold sweat. What if something’s wrong? There are tales of supernatural’s close to burnout who become delirious and energetic as though everything is fine only to push it too far. I rub my free hand on my jeans, breathing going a little choppy. What if that woman calls the authorities about us? A distressed noise leaves me and my hands start to shake. My eyes slide over the crowd and my shoulders curl down. Too many people. The laughs, squeals and chatter hammer into my brain and I shudder. Then realise with a start what’s happening. A panic attack. Goddess, not here. Not in front of Nessa.
I’m so lost in my own head that I don’t notice that Nessa’s turned around, trying to see if I’m alright. I mutely shake my head and dry swallow, nausea swelling in my stomach.
Then suddenly we’re on the move. Nessa’s firm grip on my hand filters through the panic as she drags me, stumbling behind her between two large tents. She keeps walking until we’re a decent distance from the people then throws her hands up—still clutching one of mine in hers—and closes her eyes. A barrierpopsinto existence around us and the overwhelming sound disappears, leaving us with only our heavy breathing.
I drop to the ground, letting go of Nessa’s hand and scoot backwards until my back is braced against the barrier, trying to ground myself.
Nessa
I watch on, heart pounding in my ears as Oscar drops to the ground, scooting back against my barrier. I feel completely useless. I have no clue how to help him. It doesn’t help that my mind is racing with the realisation that this is my fault. He was fine before I confronted that evil woman, then I was so swept up in trying to help those creatures that I didn’t even realise it was stressing Oscar out. I let out a ragged breath, running a hand over my face. It must have been my fault, I can’t see any other clear cause for his panic attack.
After a few seconds, frustration pulls at his features and he brings trembling hands to his hair, tugging on it roughly. I make a sound low in my throat. Witnessing him hurt himself sends an ache through my chest, so damn the consequences, I drop to my knees in front of him. It leaves me still looking down at him because of the way he’s hunched over, but his head snaps up, those silver eyes locking with mine. The pain in them has a whine rising in my chest but I shove it down, reaching out towards him slowly giving him ample chance to stop me, but he doesn’t.
I slide my hands over his, gently untangling them from his hair, guiding them to rest in his lap before threading my own hands into his hair. I keep my touch light and soothing, trailing my fingers from his forehead to his hair and back. It takes a few moments, but then some of the tension leaves his shoulders, and he slumps forwards even more until his forehead is pressed to my shoulder. I manoeuvre us until I have my back pressed to the barrier and him still leaning against me, then we justbe.
The silence is comforting rather than awkward as we sit there, Oscar slowly centering himself. His breathing steadies and his arms slide around my lower back, curling into me more. The position he’s in can’t possibly be comfortable so I use my magic to conjure a thick blanket beneath us. As soon as it’s there Oscar stretches out, sliding down until his cheek is resting on my upper thigh, arms still wrapped around me as he slowly comes back to himself.
With everything calm for the moment, my mind takes that as an opening and starts to spin again. I’m silent though as guilt rolls through me, realising how bad that scene must have looked to him, and my hands pause in Oscar’s hair for a moment before I jolt back to what I was doing. Continuing to fiddle with his hair, I have another realisation, though this one isn’t bad. It’s crazy how far my magic has come since the beginning of last term—when I barely hadanymagic. I know a lot of that progress is thanks to my family’s help over the holidays, Dylan’s tutoring last term, and my relentless practice, as of late. I need to get stronger though, otherwise I’ll fail to protect the people I care about,again.
I feel the moment he becomes aware of the position we’re in. His body tenses, but my hands don’t falter in his hair and he soon relaxes again, letting out a long breath.
It should be awkward considering this is the most intimate we’ve ever been, but for some reason it’s just, not. Well not on my end. “How are you going down there?” I ask, eyes scanning the half of Oscar’s face I can see.
He meets my eyes for a moment before flushing bright red and turning to hide his face against my thigh. It sends tingles through my thigh and I jolt, sucking in a breath. His arms tighten around me and I clear my throat. “You know this isn’t what I thought we’d be doing when you dragged me between two tents today,” I say playfully, making it obvious that I’m joking around. I waggle my eyebrows at him, even though he can’t see it. He laughs, and his breath is hot through my leggings. I bite my tongue and wince.
Lady bits, it’s really not the time to be getting excited, the man just had a panic attack, have some fucking decorum. I scowl down at the clothing covered bits in question when Oscar bursts out laughing, shoulders shaking with the power of it.Oh shit, did I say that out loud?Heat crawls up my cheeks and I let my head drop back to thud against the barrier.
“Lady bits, huh?” Oscar says, voice husky.
My lips purse, eyes narrowing down at the pink haired man using my lap as a cushion. “Hey! I’m not a robot, your face is inches from said lady bits. And yes, I’m not creative enough to name them.”
He snorts, then tips his head back, finally meeting my eyes. “Thank you,” he says, his voice soft.
