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That got his attention. Augustus stuffed his hands in his pockets and walked through the misting almost rain to join her.
"I wanted to try and catch you, but you're closing for the night. I can come back at a better time," he said from the bottom of her steps.
It was the first time Mara was at the same height as him, and it made her stomach flutter to have his face so close to hers.
"I can make time to see a grumpy sorcerer," Mara said and stepped to one side to let him pass.
"Are you sure?" he asked, his eyes silently begging her to let him off the hook.
"Come in out of the rain, Augustus," Mara replied softly. Looking like a man walking to the gallows, Augustus stepped inside the teashop and sat at his regular spot at the bar.
"I woke up this morning, and I could feel it. The blasted call. It pulled at me until I gave in to it and came to find you. I don't understand. I was fine a few days ago. Today it came on so strong, it's like I couldn't breathe," Augustus complained.
Mara locked the red door and walked about the room, switching on lamps with their colorful glass shades, sending warm light around them.
"Do you think it's the magic? Or did something happen to trigger a particular memory or grief?" Mara asked, just as curious to understand the sudden change in him.
She was too busy turning on the pot of hot water to see the look that he gave her, an expression torn between fear and want and anger and desire.
"Maybe it's just time to move on," Augustus said, looking at the bar in front of him and straightening the stag signet ring on his finger.
"Would you like some scotch first? Might help," Mara suggested.
Now that he was inside, the pain radiated from him, making her hands tremble as miracles shivered under her skin. She took the bottle of Balvenie from one cupboard and set out two teacups, pouring a healthy shot in each.
"You feel it too?" Augustus asked as he lifted the cup.
"Yes, it's going to be a big one. To making your demons dance," Mara said, and the ashen terror in his eyes warmed a little.
"That's a terrible toast, but I'll take it," he replied, tapping his porcelain lightly against hers before they both drained them. He looked into his empty cup. "This is going to be awful. Get your teapot, Mara, and let's get this over with."
This time when Mara went to her cabinet, her hand went to a fine pot of creamy porcelain, its scalloped edges dipped in gold.
As soon as her fingers rested on it, she knew his heartache was going to be about a woman.
A woman that he had loved deeply.
Mara lifted the lid and turned back to him. Augustus looked like he was going to vomit.
"It's going to be okay, you know that," she said, changing her tone to be soft and reassuring like she would with a frightened dog. "Tell me about her."
Augustus's expression shifted as the compulsion from her gift settled on him. He rested his chin on his hand, his whole posture relaxing as he gave in to the inevitable.
"Our relationship began with a stolen pocket watch and a dead whore," he began ominously, his accent smoothing into a storytelling timbre as the memories pulled him under.
Each person reacted differently to the divine power building in the air. Meek nuns would swear and rage, and the toughest of men would speak like scared children.
Augustus became finer, his aristocratic upbringing and schooling shining with a captivating elegance that would have been intimidating to Mara if she wasn't about to rip out the darkest parts of his soul.
"I came to Melbourne in 1890, under the orders of the Merlinus Academy. There was strange new magic on the London black market, and they knew it was coming from the colonies. They wanted to give me a few years away from England to help me get over Emmaline's death and my obsession with the Leopard Sorcerer."
"I left the Vance Estate in the hands of my housekeeper. She was always most capable after Emmaline. I brought my valet, William, with me to Australia. I was barely a month off the boat when I bumped into a woman at the Grand Hotel, now the Windsor, and she stole my pocket watch."
As Augustus spun out his tale, Mara walked about the shelves, taking down jars and adding leaves to her pot.
"The woman's name was Gwen, and she was a shapeshifter, a thief, and Irish. She had been staying at various expensive hotels around Melbourne. She had gotten away with people asking questions about a woman traveling alone by taking the form of an older woman and posing as her mother. I got Will to steal my watch back and had him replace it with a card, offering my congratulations on cleaning out not only my pockets but everyone else's at the party I had been suffering through.
"The man hosting the party was a Mr. Ulysses Rutherford. He was the other contact the Academy had sent to Australia and decided not to return. I sought him out and didn't find him in danger at all but living the life of one of the most celebrated and richest men in Melbourne."
