Conjured

“Right. I know.” He looked as though he wanted to ask more. But he didn’t. “Come on. Back porch has chairs you can actually sit on, as opposed to the living room, which is designed solely for Victorian women in corsets.” He tugged on her elbow, and she followed him to an enclosed porch at the back of the house. The porch had windows on all sides, as well as three skylights. Flowering plants hung from each corner, and a fan turned overhead, stirring the warm air. Most of the windows were open. Screens kept the bugs outside.

Behind them, Zach’s mom appeared with a tray holding two tall glasses filled with yellow liquid, lots of ice, and little plastic swords that pierced slices of lemon. “Lemonade?” she said brightly. She laid the tray down on a wicker table.

Zach sighed again. “Thanks, Mom. You really didn’t have to.”

His mom patted his cheek. “I like to. Don’t deny me this.” She scurried back inside and shut the door behind her. A stained-glass sailboat hung on the door. It swayed from the motion of the shutting door.

“Your mom …” Eve stopped. She couldn’t say what she was thinking—that he was lucky to know his mother. She wondered if her own mother missed her, and she wished she could miss her mother. She couldn’t ask what it was like to have a mother. I’m broken, Eve thought. Empty pieces were rattling inside her. She thought again of the forest. She remembered she’d felt safe when she’d been carried through the trees. Whoever he was—father, brother, uncle, friend—he had made her feel safe.

“I don’t want to talk about her,” Zach said, again in that flat voice. “Let’s talk more about you, okay? How did you discover you can … you know? Does anyone else know?”

“My aunt knows. And her friend Malcolm.”

“The guy who drops you off, right? Large, African American man with legs the size of sequoia tree trunks? Looks like a bodyguard, right down to the leather jacket and the shades? Probably knows six kinds of martial arts and carries a knife in his socks?”

“It’s a gun.”

Zach’s eyes widened. “I can never tell if you’re serious or if you have the most awesome deadpan delivery of any person alive.”

Eve shrugged and looked out at Zach’s backyard. It was perfectly manicured. The grass was brilliant green like the front yard and looked as if it had been combed so that all the blades bent in the same direction. Flowering bushes framed the yard, and a patio with a table and chairs was in the center. Gardening supplies were artfully stacked in another corner. Everything had its place. Its precision reminded her of a hospital room. She shuddered and looked away. To hide her reaction, she took a lemonade and sipped it. The tartness felt like a pinch on her tongue. She set the glass down again.

“So, what can you do?” Zach asked. It was the same question Victoria had asked her. But unlike Victoria, he didn’t stop there. Questions tumbled out of his mouth as if they were in a hurry to escape him. “How much magic can you transfer at a time? What are its limitations? What fuels it? Is it innate? Is it powered by something? Powered by kisses? Are you a succubus sucking my life force?” He sucked in a deep breath and then blew it out. Eve couldn’t help smiling. “Yay! A smile, at last! Eve, what you have, what you can do … it’s wonderful, amazing, incredible, worthy of a smile! And so are you. Even if you are a succubus.”

He took her hand. She let him. Her hand was awkward in his, as if his fingers weren’t sure how to encompass hers. It didn’t feel like holding Aidan’s hand; it didn’t feel practiced. Zach cradled her hand in both of his, and his hands shifted from position to position.

“Don’t be afraid, Eve. Not of this. You can be afraid of spiders or snakes or airplane crashes or a zombie apocalypse … but don’t be afraid of yourself.”

He was right. She’d come here so she wouldn’t have to be afraid. She looked out at the perfect lawn and tried to think of this house as a sanctuary. For one afternoon, she didn’t have to be afraid of Aidan, the case, her magic, or her visions. Of course it wouldn’t last, but for the space of a few moments, she could feel free.

“Eve?” Zach asked, a little hesitantly.

Eve looked into his warm, brown, hopeful eyes. She felt as if she were looking straight into his heart. She wondered if this was what it felt like to fall in love. She had nothing to compare it to. But she knew that more than anything else, right this moment, she wanted to make him smile. “Do you want to try to make it rain?” she offered.

She watched delight spread over his face.

“Think of rain,” she ordered him. And then she kissed him. For that moment, it felt as if the rest of the world melted away. She let go of her worries, fears, memories, questions, all of it. She was conscious of the taste of his lips, the feel of his breath, and the soft smell of his skin.

She heard Zach’s mother say, “Oh my!”

Eve and Zach sprang apart.