It’s one of Connor’s drawings framed in simple black wood. Created with charcoal, the piece is another illustration of me. Like his drawings before, my hair is a wild, swirling thing around me, and the background appears to be peeks of a smudged forest. However, instead of looking distant and untouchable, I’m smiling with my hand reaching out to the viewer. A man’s hand reaches back, our hands in the process of clasping together.
“It’s beautiful,” I breathe, my throat tight, and I immediately hug him.
Connor sighs with relief, wrapping his arms around me and leaning forward so his face is close to the top of my head. For a moment, we stand like this, enjoying the peaceful happiness that comes from being in the arms of someone you love. He runs his hand up my back to my neck, his long fingers gently skimming over the edges of the lace there. Awareness burns through me, as if his fingers have explored all the surfaces of where lace meets skin instead of the small portion at my neck.
He breathes in my scent while his fingers trail higher, twirling my loose strands around his fingers. Tingles ripple across my skin, and my heart dances in erratic beats. The trouble with a mate bond is these sensations feed off of one another—my growing awareness transmits to him, which he then reciprocates. It’s not particularly helpful with a bunch of people only a room away—one possessing excellent hearing.
Apparently, also aware this is very much a ‘wrong place, wrong time’ scenario, I get a hint of amusement from Connor right before he snatches the clip from my hair, causing my messy updo to fall around my shoulders.
“I like it down,” he whispers, his voice full of suggestion, and his breath hot against my ear, then he lets me go and walks into the next room.
I stand for a moment, flushed and flummoxed, staring after him with his heartfelt gift still clutched in my hands.
I will never understand boys.
∞∞∞
After everyone has expressed how impressed they are with the lights, and Felix made the suggestion that I should get aDungeons & Dragons Player’s Manualto see if I can reproduce any of the fictional spells, I slip away to Mildred’s office to gather the guys’ gifts.
When Kaleb sees me with my arms full, he hurries over to help me. He looks at the wrapped gifts and the names on them while taking the boxes from my arms, and hesitates for a moment before confessing, “I didn’t know we were exchanging gifts tonight. Normally, we all do it on Christmas Eve, so I didn’t bring mine.”
“It’s okay,” I reassure him with a comforting smile and giddiness bubbling through my veins. “I couldn’t wait. I’m just so excited for you all to open your presents.”
He smirks over my enthusiasm and follows me out into the living room.
When I hand Nolan a medium-sized, rectangular box, he gives me a meaningful look and states, “We already exchanged gifts.”
“I couldn’t resist,” I chirp, refusing to blush over the reminder of our backseat encounter, and then start handing the rest of the guys’ similar shaped boxes. “Now, those are for last, and you all have to open them together.”
“That’s not disconcerting at all,” Nolan mutters, looking at the box like a ticking bomb from his position on the couch.
Kaleb helps me pass around the rest of the gifts. Sitting on the floor near the couch, Felix looks surprised when I place a small box beside him with his name on it.
“I didn’t get you anything… you know, on the account of being dead and all,” Felix comments, and then floats his fingers through the wrapped gift. “I may need some help opening it.”
“You’ve given me more than enough by just being you,” I tell him, my voice soft with the truth of my words as I sit down beside him. Placing my hand through his, I soothe, “And don’t worry, I’ll help you.”
He looks at our hands and then flashes me a shy smile when neither of us move them.
With everyone seated—Nolan and Connor on the couch, Kaleb and Donovan on kitchen chairs, and Mildred in her armchair—it’s time to unwrap gifts.
Donovan is first, unwrapping a long, weighted box, and frowns when he sees what’s inside. “This is thekatanaI keep in my truck.”
“It’s now spelled with the power of the four elements… plus spirit,” I explain, my free hand fiddling with strands of my hair. “You mentioned a while back about how useful a weapon blessed by a witch could be in a battle, so I asked my… nan to teach me how.”
“It won’t burst into flames,” Mildred explains from her perch, with Mr. Mischief purring in her lap while having a staring contest with Connor, “but if the creature has a weakness to fire, the sword should cut with the infused power as if it was made of pure fire. Same for the other elements.”
“And spirit?” Donovan questions, carefully removing the sheathed weapon from the box and pulling the blade out a few inches. It looks almost identical to how it did before, except there’s a subtle sheen that doesn’t seem to come from any light source.
My fingers flex within Felix’s, and my heart thuds loudly in my ears. “All creatures have a soul. Nothing living or dead can survive being struck by the power of spirit magic.”
“Shit,” Donovan exclaims, sheathing thekatanafully and putting it back in the box. “I’m supposed to send demons back to hell, not erase them from existence.”
“Then don’t use it with the desire to do so,” Mildred explains evenly, stroking the cat behind his ears. “All magic, including enchanted items, respond to intent. I encourage you to use it carefully.”
“That weapon has the power to defeat anyone you come up against,” I elaborate, sitting up straight. “No more talking about dying young, okay?”
Kaleb and I trade meaningful looks, while Donovan sighs, “Yeah, I hear you. Thank you for the gift.”
