Page 53 of Blood Match

I watch, fascinated, as Heath begins to cast spells. His hands move through the air, leaving trails of sparkling energy. Words in an ancient language flow from his lips, and I find myself silently mouthing along, trying to commit the incantations to memory.

“This should help keep unwanted visitors out,” Heath explains as he finishes a particularly complex spell. “But remember, Rowan, the strongest protection comes from within you. Your will, your intent – those are powerful tools in the dream world.”

Yeah, right. There’s nothing powerful about me.

I remain silent as Heath continues to weave his spells, intent on what he’s doing. I’m still mouthing the words when suddenly, a tingling sensation erupts on my throat, right where I thought Darick had bitten me in the dream. It’s warm and pulsing, growing more intense by the second.

Before I can process what’s happening, a beam of brilliant light shoots from my hands. It arcs through the dreamscape, leaving a trail of shimmering energy in its wake. The light collects into an intricate pattern, forming a protective ward far more complex than anything I’ve ever managed in the waking world.

Heath’s eyes widen in shock. “Rowan, that’s…incredible. I had no idea your magic had grown so strong. When did you learn to cast like that?”

I stare at my hands, then at the ward I’ve somehow created, utterly bewildered. “I… I didn’t,” I stammer. “I mean, I can’t. I’ve never been able to do anything like this before.”

My mind races, trying to make sense of what just happened. How did I cast that spell? And why does my throat still tingle where Darick’s bite had been – or hadn’t been? Nothing makes sense anymore.

Heath looks like he doesn’t believe me. “You’ve been holding out on us, haven’t you?” He smiles. There’s an odd expression in his eyes.

“Heath, I swear, I don’t know how I did that.” My voice trembles slightly. “My magic has always been…well, let’s just say it’s never been anything to write home about.”

“Sure. Whatever you say.” He winks, then goes back to his spells, until finally, he straightens and dusts off his hands, as if brushing away stray magic. “There. All done.” His lips curl up. “That should keep you safe in here.”

Safe in here…

Did I feel unsafe when Darrick came in? No. Not for a moment…because I was too busy feeling-

Stop it, Rowan!

“…time to go back,” Heath is saying. He clicks his fingers, and the world disappears.

I blink rapidly as consciousness floods back, the dreamscape fading away like mist in the morning sun. My hands are the first thing I focus on, turning them over in disbelief.

How did I cast that spell?

It doesn’t make any sense.

“Rowan?” Heath’s voice pulls my attention away from my palms. His eyes are fixed on me strangely. “That was… unexpected.”

I swallow hard, unsure how to respond. “I… I don’t know what happened,” I manage to stammer out.

“Well, whatever it was, it was impressive.” His gaze is still locked on me. There’s a new intensity to the way he’s looking at me, so different from the polite disinterest I remember from our high school days.

I tear my eyes away from Heath to find Gran and Astra watching us intently. They exchange a loaded glance, communicating silently in a way that only decades of friendship can allow.

“How do you feel, dear?” Gran asks, her voice carefully neutral.

“Fine, I guess,” I reply, flexing my fingers. “Just…confused.”

“Well, you certainly gave me a lot to think about.” Heath grins with a charm I’m not used to from him. It should set off a swarm of butterflies in my belly. It doesn’t.

Gran and Astra share another look, and then Gran places a hand on my shoulder. “Well then, I think we’re done here?”

Astra nods in assent, and Gran seems satisfied. But I can see the questions in her eyes, the same ones swirling in my own mind. What just happened? And more importantly, what does it mean?

18

Chapter 18

Darick