Page 32 of Wallflower Witch
“It did,” I concede.
“What did you do last time?” asks Matt.
I look at Patrick, thinking back. “I don’t know. I tried and nothing happened, then I was ready to give up. Patrick talked to me and then, like a switch was flipped, it was there, and it was responding. And as quickly as it came on, it went away again.” I shrug.
“He talked to you?” asks Josh. “Well, start talking, pretty boy.”
Patrick laughs at the jab. He starts in on his pep talk, but no matter how much he talks, my magic stays right where it is.
“Are you sure all you did was talk?” asks Josh.
Patrick and I make quick eye contact, then look away.
“There may have been a few kisses as well,” Patrick adds. “They weren’t planned or anything, but…” He raises his hands out to his side.
“I volunteer for that job!” Matt chimes in. “If Mor will have me.”
“Yes, I’ll have you,” I tell him, stepping closer.
He wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me to him until I am pressed against his chest. He leans in, eyes locked on my lips. Pressing onto my toes, I take control, claiming his lips with mine. He groans as his tongue snakes out and battles mine for control.
Time seems to lose all meaning as my world narrows to the two of us and the sensations running up through my body. Most are familiar to me, but then I feel something I’ve only felt one other time.
I pull back and look at all three men. “It’s back. My magic is back!”
“Well, that’s interesting.” Josh chuckles, shoving his hands in his pockets as he leans back and lets out a low wolf whistle. “I think we’ll need to do some extensive testing on this theory later, but for now, get your sexy ass over here and show us what you can do.” He winks, doing a Vanna wave towards the smallest pile of junk.
I steady myself, reaching inside me for the now-pliable ball of magic. I aim, picturing the pile shaking around in a mini earthquake as my magic travels up my arm and out through my fingertips. This time there’s nothing stopping its path, and the magic rushes out, the teal tendrils curling about at my command.
The smallest pile dances across the ground.
“Good,” calls Patrick. “Now see if you can move up through the sizes.”
I nod, not wanting to stop thinking about my magic and risk it going dormant again. Turning my head slightly, I eye the next pile, asking my magic to move the ground under the pile. The ground rumbles and shakes, moving not only that pile but all the piles around us. The shaking continues growing stronger the longer it lasts. The guys lose their footing, landing on the ground.
I gasp, trying to pull back. Asking my magic to stop, to return to me. My feet slip out from under me. My back smarts from where I land, but the ground stills. I sigh in relief.
“Well, that was impressive,” Patrick tells me. “I knew you were powerful, but it seems to have dimmed.”
I quickly scan inside, finding my magic tucked away again. “Yeah. It’s gone back to ignoring me. It’s like as soon as I finish a spell, it stops listening.”
Patrick hums. “That’s not something I’ve heard of before.”
“Didn’t you mention a book?” asks Matt.
“Yes. We found my family’s grimoire,” I tell him. “I’ve read most of it to see if it would help.”
“Can I take a look?” he asks. “Finding more gems didn’t pan out, but maybe I’ll catch something you missed or didn’t know was important at the time.”
I nod, pushing myself up and going to my bag. I find the grimoire in the bottom, fishing it out and passing it over. “I hope you can find something, because it feels like we are right there to figuring this out if we could just get that one last piece.”
He moves over to the side, where a downed log sits, leaning back on it and propping the book on his knees.
“Are you ready to go again?” asks Patrick.
“Do we really want to? It wouldn’t stop when I wanted it to. Is there something less destructive we can try?” I let my arms flop to my side.
“It’s part of the process,” Patrick reassures me. “Most young witches have trouble calling up their powers, but it’s not a far leap that you are having trouble turning yours off.”