the flame. “Mirror the flame, and feel its movement in your palm.”
With a twist of her mouth, she concentrated on the watery flame, and the dazzle of undulating light within the clear surface. She could feel the movement against her palm. The water flickered softly, as if touched by a breeze.
“I feel it,” she whispered. “I think I can control it.”
CJ slid his hand down to her wrist, where the jade beads were wrapped, and touched her lightly there, not breaking contact. She sensed he bolstered her magic with his own, and in fact, her intent felt most strong at the base of her throat. Grandmother must approve, she thought suddenly.
The flames spattered up tiny water beads, and then, with a lift of her finger, the beads darted toward her palm. She gave her finger a twist, and the beads spiraled in the air between the candle and her hand in a trill of suspended droplets. Her heart speeding, she sucked in a breath. She wasn’t about to announce how thrilled she was because that would break her concentration.
“Coil them into a weapon,” he instructed. “Use your whole hand.”
Frowning, because the first thing that came to mind would never be what he suggested, Vika balked. “Why a weapon?”
“Doesn’t have to be. But make it a projectile of some form.”
That was easier to accomplish. She folded her fingers inward, one after the other, and the water droplets spun into a tight, long chevron. With a thrust of her hand, she sent the watery dart across the room to splash against the glass doors.
They held gazes in silent triumph. “I did it,” she whispered.
“You pick up things quickly. You have great skill. And this.” He tapped her grandmother’s nail.
“That, and a good teacher. Show me something else?”
Their faces were but a handbreadth apart. CJ’s eyes darted between hers, saying more with his gaze than she felt he could speak. She adored his soft smile, a little unsure, but even more willing. He touched her jaw briefly, and she wondered if he would kiss her, but too quickly he nodded and stood back, shaking out his tattooed hand as if he’d been burned.
“It’s your grandmother’s magic,” he said, when he noted her wondering lift of brow. “Sometimes it snaps at me, as if a warning.”
“Good ole Grandma. She’s watching over me.”
“And she doesn’t entirely approve of me.”
Vika shrugged. “She doesn’t entirely dismiss you, either. Maybe the nail also senses the demons.”
“Not a bad protection to have.” He nodded once, accepting that. “So. Something else. How about this?” With a sweep of his hand, he lifted the extinguished candle, and it soared about the room in a wide circle to parallel the movement of his hand.
“Transprojectionary dislocation!” It was a strong magic that required decades of practice. And he performed it with such ease. “I thought you said your magic was weakened by the demons within you?”
“It is. This is but a silly display. I could move buildings if I chose to do so. But not with my passengers holding down the fort.”
“It will be a marvel to see you at full strength. I hope to see that someday.” And more. Exploring the world of Certainly Jones was an adventure she wanted to take. “You’ve spent a lot of time studying magic?”
“Too long.” The candle settled with a clink on the marble counter. “To my detriment.”
“How so? I should think it incredibly helpful to have such a vast arsenal of magic to hand.”
“Yes, but something must be set aside to make room for all the study.” He leaned in again, and this time he brought his face so close, she prepared for the kiss. But it didn’t come. “Relationships,” he said, “have suffered.”
“This one is doing well so far,” she tried.
“At your grandmother’s discretion.”
And then he did kiss her. A sweep of his hand tilted her head to meet his mouth with hers. A tender, soft touch, lingering, not pressing, more drawing in her breath and basking in her. The not-touch occupied her core and swirled in her being as if water droplets dancing at his command.
Never had a kiss so thoroughly grasped her, as if she’d been put under a spell. Dark magic? Perhaps.
“Is that okay?” he whispered against her mouth. “I think about kissing you all the time now, but I know I’ve done nothing to deserve your kisses. If anything, I’ve only repulsed you with my demons.”
“You think too much.” She kissed him. His throaty moan pleased her. A man’s surrender