Kiss and Spell

Page 34

We returned to our task, our magical lights following us as we went from shelf to shelf. I wasn’t quite as good as he was at summoning the books to me. I had to be much closer, and it seemed to take more effort—enough that I doubted I’d be using this particular shortcut in day-to-day life. Still, it was cool to play with.
I slipped the final clue card into its book and let Owen send it flying back to its shelf. Then Owen’s grin turned mischievous and he raised his hand to point to the glowing orbs. They suddenly shattered like fireworks, showering us with colorful sparks of light. We ran through the store then, light moving all around us in great swirls. He’d bounce some light at me, and I’d send it back to him. It was like dancing, though we hadn’t even touched.
He waved his hand in the air again, and a snowfall began. The flakes danced in the air, and I jumped to catch them on my tongue, but they vanished before I could reach them. “You did say you liked browsing in a bookstore on a snowy day,” he said.
“But generally the idea is to come in out of the snow,” I replied. “You should have it snow just outside the windows so people will stay longer.”
“That’s a good idea,” he said. “I wonder what else we can do.” With a flick of his wrist, he changed the music on the sound system to an even slower, more romantic piece before he held his hand out to me. “Shall we dance?”
I stepped into his arms, and then we danced in the magical snowfall as fireworks went off over our heads. I wasn’t sure if the tingle that ran through my body was from the magic or from being together like this. I had the strangest feeling that I’d have felt exactly the same way without the snow or the fireworks, that it was the man and not the magic that made every nerve ending in my body sing for joy.
“You know,” I whispered after a while, “this is probably visible from outside the store. People will notice if fireworks are going off indoors.”
“I suppose you’re right,” he murmured, and the sparks dissipated. The snow kept falling, though. It seemed as though the two of us were alone in our own magical wonderland, where the outside world was nothing but a faint memory. He leaned toward me, and I found myself leaning toward him, breathless with anticipation. When our lips were barely an inch apart, I suddenly remembered where I was and what I was doing.
I wasn’t the kind of girl who two-timed. I had a boyfriend. I might break it off with him tomorrow because now I knew what magic really was, but I couldn’t kiss someone else until then. It wouldn’t be right, and if being with Owen was the right thing, I didn’t want to start it off on the wrong foot.
“You know what this snow puts me in the mood for?” I asked, pulling back abruptly and trying to keep my tone light and casual to cover my still-breathless reaction to our near-miss.
“Hot cocoa.” The intense look in his eyes as he continued gazing at me told me that wasn’t what he was really thinking, but he had picked up on my reticence and was willing to shift the mood.
“You read my mind,” I said, smiling in relief. I felt like we had all the time in the world. We had no need to rush things.
The snowfall following us, we made our way up the stairs to the café. We walked side by side, not touching, but close enough that I was conscious of his proximity. I started to head behind the counter, but he shook his head. “No, I think I’ve got this.” A wave of his hand, and two steaming mugs sat on the nearest table. “Your table, miss,” he said with a gesture.
I grabbed a tray of cookies left over from the store rearranging party. Our new supplier’s cookies were good enough that I didn’t think Owen could beat them, even with magic. We wouldn’t be using them to level unsteady tables.
After a sip of magical cocoa, I looked at him through the snowfall and said, “What do you think this means?”
“I have no idea. Are we the only ones who can do this? Or can everyone, but no one thinks to try? Has it been like this all along, or is this new?”
“Maybe there’s something in the water, or space aliens have experimented on us—that would explain the missing time we’ve both experienced.”
“You know, any other day I might have said that was an outrageous theory, but since I can do magic, I’m not sure I can call anything outrageous anymore. Anything is possible.”
“Should we tell someone?”
“Who? We don’t have a ministry of magic in this world, and I’d rather not end up in some secret government laboratory.”
“So, what do we do?”