The Magic Within Ch. 04

The smell of tomato sauce wafted down the corridor as I stepped out of the elevator. I made my way down the carpeted hallway, humming a tune I'd heard on the radio. It was eight o'clock in the evening, and I had come straight from work. Well, relatively. A plastic grocery bag containing a gallon of Napoleon ice cream swung from one hand as I knocked on Angela's door.

She was on the phone with her mother when she greeted me, mouthing a silent 'hello' and standing aside to let me pass.

"No, Mom, I don't want to wear a veil." She shoved a pair of worn house slippers away from the door as I entered and stooped to give her black Scottish terrier, Maggie, ear scratches. "I know you have grandma's, but I thought I was already borrowing her necklace." She padded down the hall to the bedroom and I continued into the kitchen.

"Hi, Logan," I called out, putting the ice cream in the freezer. The kitchen had a breakfast bar looking into the living room, and I could see Angela's fiancé on the couch watching Die Hard on cable.

"Yo, Cara. How've you been?" Logan got up and came over, already out of his work clothes and in a ratty tee shirt and sweatpants. He was a business consultant by day and usually worked pretty long hours, so it was unusual to see him already home and lounging on the couch.

"I'm pretty good, actually," I said, giving him a big grin. "I woke up this morning and didn't need my usual mug of coffee!"

"Whoa! What gives?" Logan was a caffeine addict. He drank a Venti Americano on the way to work every morning.

I shrugged, unable to wipe the smile off my face. "I don't know. Had a great night's sleep, I guess." In all honesty, it felt wonderful to have as much energy as I'd had all day. The buzzing in my head from last night was gone and I felt relaxed, even after a full day of work with Jodee on my ass. It didn't hurt that my dream last night involved some very steamy sex with Matt. I was pretty sure I had orgasmed in my sleep. It had been that good, if somewhat unrealistic in the size department. But it would certainly explain why I had started the day off so well.

The doorbell rang.

"You mind checking on the lasagna?" Logan asked, going to answer it.

I found the lobster-shaped oven mitts and opened the oven door, glad for a distraction. The mozzarella had melted on top and the edges were just beginning to crisp. Yum. It could do with another ten minutes. I slid the tray back and shut the door just as Mary-Anne stepped around the corner.

"Hey." She looked nervous to see me. Raindrops dotted her hair, which had been tied back into a thick ponytail. She was wearing her black raincoat, dripping water onto the linoleum.

"Hi." I straightened, slapping the mitts on the counter. We had parted on good terms last night, but now that the shock had worn off, I was angry. What was I supposed to say to her? Thanks for being my friend for three years and never once mentioning that I was leaking magic and had lost my memories. What are friends for?

I think she saw the indecision on my face because she made some small talk with Logan instead, leaving me to watch the lasagna, which I was all too happy to do.

"My mother is still on my ass about that wedding veil of my grandmother's," Angela complained, emerging from the darkened hallway. She curled an arm around Logan, who was standing behind the breakfast bar, and let out a bereaved sigh. "It doesn't match my dress at all, and I really don't want anything on my face. I told her I wanted to wear Nana's necklace but she's really stuck on the veil for some reason."

Logan bent down to give her a kiss on the nose. "Is it a Schaffer tradition?"

"Fuck tradition," Mary-Anne said predictably. "Wear whatever you want to wear. You're never going to make everyone happy. Might as well make that clear from the get-go." She had a point, even if it was a brusque one.

The timer dinged and I pulled out dinner.

"Well, at least you got the invites settled," I said as we sat. Maggie parked her butt right next to my chair, evidently remembering when I had accidentally dropped a slice of pizza onto the floor the last time I was here.

"Small miracles, I guess," Angela acknowledged with a weak laugh.

Conversation shifted to talk about friends and co-workers. Within the hour, the lasagna was gone and the ice cream was out. Nothing beats a great dinner with friends and ice cream for dessert. It almost made me feel like things were back to normal. Almost.

"So, Cara," Angela said, her eyebrows waggling, already in a better mood. "Whatever happened with that hot neighbor of yours? You know, the McMountain with all the muscles?"

Mary-Anne, who had hardly said a word to me all night, flicked her gaze in my direction. "Cara has a hot neighbor?" she asked interestedly.

"Yeah! She hooked up with him after we had drinks at Rusty's." Angela turned back to me. "What is he, Russian? Polish?"

"Ukrainian," I muttered, feeling warmth creep into my cheeks. Don't ask me how I know that, I silently prayed.

Mary-Anne nearly choked on her spoonful of ice cream. If she didn't know who Angela was talking about before, she certainly knew now. "She hooked up with him?" She reached for her glass of water.

"Well, she was wearing his clothes when I found her the morning after," Angela said slyly. I glared at her, willing her with my eyes to shut up.

"Go Cara!" Logan crowed. "It's about time you moved on!"

"We didn't hook up," I muttered. Not that it was any of Mary-Anne's business. "I locked myself out of my apartment so I crashed at Rex's place. Nothing happened."

"I think she should go for it." Angela helped herself to another scoop of ice cream. "I thought it was nice of him to help you out. He was doing his neighborly duty." She giggled.

"Do you...do you like him?" Mary-Anne looked at me in disbelief.

I bristled. I didn't want to see the judgement in her eyes. I knew Rex was not interested in someone like me—a mid-twenties mess of a girl going through a quarter-life crisis. He was a grown-ass man with a sexy girlfriend who walked around wearing shorts that showed her ass cheeks and no bra. I had no business lusting after someone like him. Whatever I thought we had was merely a result of my own imagination. But I wasn't going to tell Mary-Anne I agreed with her.

"That's none of your business," was what I said instead.

Mary-Anne clamped her mouth shut, hurt.

Angela eyed the two of us. "Uh...did something happen between you two?"

"No," Mary-Anne said firmly at the same moment I said, "Maybe."

I cleared my throat and turned to Logan, who paused with a scoop of ice cream mid-way to his mouth. "Do you guys have Advil or something?" The buzzing in my head was coming back.

"Uh, yeah, sure. Hang on." He ambled into the kitchen and I heard the bottle rattle as he uncapped it and shook a couple pills out. I swallowed the two he gave me, feeling my thoughts begin to swirl.

"What happened?" Angela asked, confused.

"Nothing." Mary-Anne's voice was hard, a warning to me. I didn't like that. After last night, she was the last person to be giving me orders.

I got up. "I think I should leave."

"What? Wait, come on, Cara, please stay." Angela looked at me worriedly. "Whatever happened, we can figure it out. Don't go."

I shook my head, trying to silence the churning of a million different thoughts, trying to push aside the anger I felt toward Mary-Anne. "I'm tired." I gave Angela a weak smile. "Sorry I can't stay later. Thanks for dinner, it was delicious."

I put my shoes on as Logan murmured something to Angela, probably trying to calm her down.

It was selfish of me, I know. I never did this, ever, but I pulled open the front door and left without saying goodbye. My chest felt like it was about to explode. I had to get out of there, away from Mary-Anne and toward fresh air so I could breathe and think properly.

***

Why did I suddenly feel like I was going to burst into tears? My brain was working a mile a minute, as though I had downed five shots of espresso, thoughts spinning around in a veritable hurricane of whispers and emotions, singeing my neural circuits.

I didn't hear the pounding of feet catching up to me on the pavement as I made my way toward the parking lot, the sidewalk shiny under my boots from the recent rain.

"Cara!" Mary-Anne caught up to me. "Why'd you leave?" She was out of breath, strands of hair coming loose from her ponytail. "Are you mad at me?"

I started to speak but couldn't form the words.

"You...you...how can you ask that? Are you stupid or something?"

"Hey, now—"

"You knew, Mary-Anne! You knew everything! You knew about my—my amnesia, my fake memories and my leaking magic. Magic. Tell me how I'm supposed to feel about finding out one of my best friends knew all of this and never bothered to clue me in!"

I advanced toward her and stabbed a finger into her chest. "Who are the hell are you? Are you actually my friend, or some random chick sent to keep tabs on me?"

Mary-Anne actually looked a little scared, which was saying something since she was the one out of Angela and I that had balls of brass. I once saw her punch a guy for being too handsy with her at a club.

"Of course I'm your friend, Cara!" She blinked rapidly, her eyes red. "No one sent me, I swear. I didn't know about you until Rex came to Seattle!"

Hearing his name only served to make me angrier. Everyone knew just a bit more than I did—they were all spiders spinning a giant web of secrets, and I was the naive fly that happened to find itself caught in the middle.

I turned and continued walking at a brisk pace down the sidewalk, past closed storefronts and restaurants with lighted neon signs.

"Please believe me," she begged, hurrying to keep up with me. "I didn't know you were a middling until two weeks ago!"

"A middling?" I stopped abruptly and Mary-Anne knocked into me.

She blinked. "That's what we call ourselves. That's what you are." She looked so forlorn, so upset. I wanted to believe her, I really did. But I could only look at her in silence.

"What can I do?" Mary-Anne asked desperately. The fluorescent lights of the convenience store we were standing in front of flickered. "What do you want me to do, Cara?"

"I don't know!" I wiped away tears from the corners of my eyes. "I don't know who I am anymore." A sob wracked my body.

Mary-Anne guided me to a nearby bench. A street lamp lit the area with a golden light. As we sat, a man in a beat-up jacket and sneakers pushed his way into the convenience store in front of us, a string of silver bells on the door chiming cheerfully as he entered.

"You're Cara Shen," Mary-Anne said when the bells died down. "You're smart and funny. You like chocolate and peanut butter ice cream, watermelon margaritas, and romance movies. You dated a jerk of a boyfriend for way too long, but you dumped him when it mattered, so I can't blame you too much." She laughed. "You're also one of my best friends."

The man with the beat-up jacket emerged from the store with a pack of cigarettes and began to amble his way down the block, searching his pockets for a lighter. He took the crosswalk, oblivious to the fact that the red hand was still lit, but it was late enough for traffic to be sparse, and he crossed without incident.

Mary-Anne shifted on the bench next to me. "I was your friend before I knew you were a middling. I hope I'm still your friend after."

"That depends on if you're honest with me," I said, my shoes scuffing on the pavement beneath the bench. "How do you know Rex and Marabelle? Is there like—a fairy newsletter you all get or something?"

Mary-Anne let out a breath of relief. "We've all known each other for a long time. Rex and I have known each other since we were kids. Not like that," she corrected hastily, eyeing my sideways. "Our families are friends. We fell out of touch years ago. When he moved back to Seattle, he came over for dinner and mentioned he was looking for someone, and what with you leaking magic all over the place the last week, I thought there might be a connection."

She saw the look on my face. "It's not normal for a middling to be leaking magic," she explained. "I thought I was imagining things when I first noticed it, but it was so weak that I wrote it off. But the last few days you just started trailing it wherever you went. I got a little worried. You seemed oblivious and it's not just something you bring up to someone if they don't know."

I nodded. Okay. I could live with that explanation. Something she said snagged my attention. "Why was Rex looking for me?"

Mary-Anne shook her head. "I don't know, he wouldn't say. There's a lot of things he doesn't like talking about." She was about to say something more but caught herself. I frowned, wondering what she had chosen to censor. She bit her lower lip, studying me. "You really should consider resurrecting your memories, Cara."

I shook my head, images of the fire playing in my mind. "I don't think I'm ready for that." I was terrified of what I might remember.

"Did Rex teach you how to temper your magic at least? To stop the leaking?"

"No. Not yet." My stomach soured remembering how he had tried to push me past my limit last night. I wondered if he was waiting for me back at the apartment, pissy and brooding.

I didn't want to face any of this right now. If I accepted this magic and my lost memories, it would mean acknowledging that my understanding of the world and my place in it was wrong. People have lost their minds that way. I felt like I had begun to lose it last night, and that terrified me. My head was pounding again.

If you don't learn how to control your magic, that tracer might come back. I didn't know if it was dead or still out there, but it didn't really matter—there were probably more like it. Rex had been set on teaching me last night but I didn't want to be around the man any more than I absolutely had to. Being near him did things to me. Complicated things. And I wasn't a masochist by any stretch of the word.

I looked over at Mary-Anne hopefully. "Can you teach me how to temper?"

She gave a small shake of her head, dashing my spirits. "I don't know how. My magic is bound to me so I never needed to learn." She paused, then with a tilt of her head said, "Come on, I'll walk you to your car."

"Are you saying my magic isn't bound to me?" I asked, hurrying to catch up to her. I had parked in a public lot about two blocks away. The walk to get to it wasn't particularly scenic, but it wasn't crime-ridden either, which was all that really mattered.

"I can't say for sure, but I don't think it is. People with bound magic don't ever leak." She eyed me nervously. "Our magic is bound to our souls. If the two are ever separated, we die. You're not dead, obviously," she reassured me. "But there's something wrong with your magic. Maybe it's only partially bound or something, and that's why you are leaking. But you should really listen to Rex, he's experienced in this kind of stuff. He's an M.L.E.O. for the New York Guild—that means Middling Law Enforcement Officer," she explained at my blank expression. "He's dealt with all kinds of demonic interferences, and if he says you need to learn how to temper, he means it."

Rex was a law enforcement officer. That explained why he was looking for me. I was probably a missing person. I straightened. Crap, maybe my real family was still out there looking for me! I remembered the burning building from my nightmare. Maybe not. What if I was a wanted criminal? What if my family had been in that building? I forced myself to calm down. I'd been "gone" for three years. My past life could wait a few more days until I decided what to do.

"What do you know about my magic?" I asked as we walked. The black pavement of the street glistened wetly against the light of a dozen yellow street lamps.

Mary-Anne skirted a puddle in the road. "Hm. Well, I can't speak to your particular brand of magic since I don't know your family. Middling families each specialize in a unique type of magic that is passed on to their children." She shoved her hands into the pockets of her jacket, her eyes watching for approaching pedestrians. "For example, my family practices balancing magic. It's kind of like aligning chakras. My mom uses it in her job as a physical therapist a lot." She shrugged. "It's nothing impressive, but it's still magic."

"Isn't all magic kind of impressive? I mean, before yesterday I didn't even know it was real."

"Well, it's not like what Hollywood makes it out to be," Mary-Anne said kindly. "It can be very limiting, sometimes."

A few yards away from us, a middle-aged woman in a trench coat and an elderly man with a suitcase emerged from Luigi's Italian Ristorante.

Sleep. Chest pain. Muscles relaxing.

The shivers danced along my skin like pinpricks, traveling down my thighs, calves, and out into the cement sidewalk through the soles of my feet.

"Cara—your eyes..." Mary-Anne stopped walking and peered at me in concern.

I came to a halt as well. "What about my eyes?"

She shook her head, blinking. "Never mind. They looked strange for a minute, but maybe it was from the lights."

I watched the middle-aged woman disappear under the archway of an apartment building. Ahead of us was the public lot, mostly empty since it was mid-week. There were several beat-up sedans and a camper with a flat tire. Off in the far corner, a sleek black Mercedes idled quietly, the windows too dark to make out who was inside.

I was beginning to feel overwhelmed again. We had reached my car, a '96 Camry with chipped paint and stained fabric seats. "Do you want a ride?"

She quirked a smile at me. "If you don't mind."

I gestured and she popped around the other side to slide into the passenger seat. It was a quick ten-minute drive to her apartment uptown, and I pulled up to the front door, putting the car in park.

"Thanks." Mary-Anne climbed out, then turned around and bent down to look into the car. Her black coat gaped open, the lapels flapping gently. "Get some sleep, Cara. Tomorrow, find Rex and learn how to temper. And please...think about getting your memories back."

Yeah, right, I thought as I pulled out onto the main stretch of road that would take me back to Edison Grove. I didn't know which appealed to me less, having face time with Rex, or opening up a Pandora's box of who-knew-what, but I didn't want to find out.

***

The Advil didn't help. When I got home, my brain was back to buzzing like a hornet's nest, thinking about my nightmares, work emails, my nonexistent family, Rex, running out of Angela's apartment, and fighting with Mary-Anne. Too many problems, not enough bandwidth.

I washed my face, brushed my teeth and slipped into comfortable pajamas, the blue flannel ones with a pattern of white clouds and sheep. The ones my mom had given me as a Christmas gift many years ago. Was that a false memory, too?

In the kitchen, wincing from the building pressure behind my eyes, I knocked back a double dose of Sominex and settled myself on the couch with a blanket and a glass of water, the strains of my usual classical piano station wafting into the living room from my nightstand. I had started reading All the Light We Cannot See a few weeks ago and never got back to it, but tonight I picked up the hardcover and flipped to where I had left off.

The first sentence blurred into a mess on the page as the buzzing turned into a full-fledged migraine. I wanted to cry. I don't need this tonight.