Enchanter: The Flawed Series Book Four Page 6

  “This is why that brawl happened at the coffee shop, isn’t it?”

  Jade nodded. “I think so.” She bit her lip, feeling the moisture pooling beneath her lids, knowing a storm was threatening to escape and that she couldn’t let it.

  “Oh, sweetie. I’m so sorry.”

  The sensitivity in her father’s voice disarmed something in her, and for a moment her control slipped. A sob choked out of her, and she dropped her head into her hands. Her dad wrapped his arms around her, but the moment she felt his touch, she knew she was in the danger zone. Jade jerked away.

  She took a shaky breath and smoothed her hair, barely wrestling back her control.

  Her dad’s face twisted with hurt.

  “I’m sorry, Dad, I just can’t do this right now. Trust me.” She swallowed. “Can you just tell me what’s up with Mom? Just the facts, and maybe really brief? I have to get out of here, but I’m not leaving until I know.”

  He took a deep breath. “They think she has Lupus. She’s been having headaches for a while now, but we didn’t think anything of it at first. Then she started complaining that all her joints were hurting. And yesterday she was so tired she didn’t get out of bed all day. We didn’t know what it was, and she made a doctor’s appointment. But they couldn’t get her in for two weeks.” He took a breath and let it out slowly. “Then today I found her unconscious, so I called an ambulance.”

  “I didn’t know about any of that—not even about the headaches. Why didn’t you tell me how bad it was getting earlier?”

  “She didn’t want me to.”

  “What? Why not?”

  “Jade, we both know your struggle, and neither of us wanted to risk contaminating you with our own worry before we had to.”

  Jade was about to protest his logic—to insist that family was more important than whatever she might have to deal with emotionally, but she clamped her jaw shut, realizing the opposite of her dad’s fear had happened—she’d just now contaminated them—and maybe the entire building.

  Fear started to build again. But she couldn’t suck it down and bury it this time. The danger was too tangible. She backed away. “I…I…I gotta go.”

  “Jade—wait.” Her father reached out a hand.

  She shook her head. “Sorry, Dad. I’ll come visit again, I just—I can’t right now.” She turned and hurried out of the hospital.

  In the parking lot, she stopped to catch her breath. She called back the ocean scene in her mind. Her own feelings receded. Pricking at the edges of her consciousness, she once again felt the emotions from the nearby hospital. She breathed a sigh, thinking how strange it was to be relieved by foreign emotions in her heart.

  ~

  Violet sat at her dining table and stared at her fingers. The colored strands extended from her palm, dancing and writhing as if to a silent melody. She could still feel Ras’s presence through this sixth sense, but feeling him wasn’t enough. She needed control—the way she’d influenced his behavior when he and Holly had visited. Something had changed in him, and she’d orchestrated it.

  But try as she might to pull and tug the strings, she couldn’t get him to act. She’d repeatedly tried to summon him to her apartment. First Sunday and then again today. He’d either ignored, not understood, or not received the silent command. The latter, she thought.

  And this irked her. What good were these strings when she couldn’t use them to do anything worthwhile?

  She hadn’t imagined the change in Ras. She’d seen his behavior with her own eyes. And the colored threads hadn’t left her since. So why couldn’t she figure out how to direct her puppet with these strange strings?

  It was frustrating. She decided to work out to get it off her mind.

  Violet had run for an hour on the treadmill, lifted weights, and was doing her toenails for the third time when her doorbell rang. She scooted off the sofa and hobbled on her heels, keeping her toes separated with cotton. When she pulled the door open, Holly stood with her hands on her hips, glaring at Violet.

  “Gee, you look happy,” Violet said, ushering her friend in and shuffling back to the sofa to finish her right foot.

  Holly perched on the arm of the nearby lounge chair, a frown scrunching her forehead. “What did you do to Ras?”

  Violet ignored the insinuation but felt a prick of pride inside. “What are you talking about? I haven’t seen him since you guys helped me move in.”

  Holly’s eyes narrowed. “I barely have either.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “I don’t know, but I was hoping maybe you could fill me in.”

  Violet adopted an expression of pure innocence. “Me? Like I said, I haven’t talked to him since—”

  “I know something happened between you guys last week when we were moving your stuff down here. That’s the only explanation.”

  Violet tittered. “Holly, you cray-cray, girl. Don’t you remember, you were here the whole time?”

  The muscles in Holly’s temples tensed. “Maybe, but you guys were out of my sight when I was digging through your magazines looking for People.”

  Violet finished her small toe and waved the nail polish wand in the air. “You’re paranoid, Hol. You were upstairs like three minutes. What could’ve happened?”

  “I don’t know, but I don’t buy for a second it was innocent. You did something to him. Two days ago me and him were doing so well, and now—it’s like he doesn’t even care about me.”

  Violet arched a brow, intrigued. “How’s that?”

  Holly stood and began pacing on the wood floors, her frustration visibly building. She scooped an armful of her blonde hair over her shoulder. “When we’re together, he talks about you constantly. ‘Violet this’ and ‘Violet that.’ How you’re so pretty, and he’s so glad you’re out of the coma now, and blah blah blah.”

  “That’s very sweet of him,” Violet said.

  Holly sent her another glare. “You know he’s not like that—not even with me. He’s all cool and collected. He doesn’t show affection. I can barely get him to kiss me in public.”

  Violet considered this, and a new challenge sparked her interest. She wondered what it would feel like to kiss Ras. Or, more precisely, to make him kiss her. The thought trilled inside her, distracting her for a moment from whatever Holly was saying.

  “—I mean, what the heck? It’s like he had some kinda weird transformation or something. But then a couple times he flipped back to normal for a few minutes. It’s the weirdest thing.” Holly shook her head with exasperation.

  “Boys will be boys,” Violet said.

  “This isn’t typical guy weirdness,” Holly said. “Believe me. I know enough about that after my last relationship. This is…” Her forehead scrunched. “This is something else. Like a personality flip. It’s so odd.”

  “Maybe you should find a new boyfriend.”

  Holly scowled. “Geez, thanks for the support. I don’t want a new boyfriend. I want Ras.”

  Violet shrugged. “I just meant, if he’s not into you, maybe you should let him move on.”

  “Why wouldn’t he be into me?”

  “Just…reasons.”

  “What’s with you?”

  “I just tell it like it is.”

  Holly shook her head. “You were never super kindhearted, but you used to at least sympathize with me. What happened to you?”

  “I just realized that I don’t have time for average people anymore.”

  “Average? What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Violet gave her a placid smile. All Holly needed to know was that her best friend had evolved. And that she’d stayed sadly the same. They were no longer equals.

  “You know what? Fine. Just—never mind.” Holly strode toward the door.

  Violet didn’t move from her position on the sofa.

  Holly paused, her hand on the doorknob. “You know, I come here for a little support from my best friend, and I get insulted. Thanks a lot, Vi.” Holly slammed the door
behind her, and the reverberation sent a little thrill through Violet. Before her accident, Violet might have been more sympathetic. But she had little desire for the sentiment now.

  Violet surveyed herself in the full-length mirror, frowning at what she saw. Her torso still looked foreign. Her ribs still showed, and her legs looked strangely long for her body. She’d been lying on her butt in the coma for three weeks, which didn’t help. She sighed and pulled on a too-large top. At least her arms were getting stronger from the physical therapy. She flexed a bicep and was proud of the small muscle that popped up. Her calves were growing too. Now she just had to work on her thighs and gaining weight. She needed a tan, too. It would all come in time, but it was hard to be patient.

  Violet grabbed her handbag and was about to pull out her keys when she noticed a chip on the nail polish of her little finger. Irked, she set the bag down and went to fix the problem. A smudge on the thumb of her other hand caught her eye. She must’ve bumped into something before the polish had dried. She cursed and grabbed the bottle of remover.

  Twenty minutes later, she’d redone all her nails and could focus on what she really wanted. The way Ras had transformed…she wanted that with Logan.

  Part of her wanted to hurt him. Another part wanted to have him. Why did it have to be one or the other? She glanced at the colored strings flowing from her hands, and an idea took form inside her mind.

  As she climbed into her BMW, she pushed away the doctor’s warning not to drive on the painkillers. Her mind felt as coherent as ever, despite the increased dosages she’d been taking. She started the engine and headed out of the condo’s parking lot. Violet let her intuitions lead, her unspoken, unconscious desires. They led her to Colorado College and to the history building where she’d worked as an assistant for a year before her accident. When she saw Logan’s old, blue truck, her eyes went wide, and a delicious nervousness took over her.

  Though Violet needed to do some reconnaissance, she wasn’t ready for him to see her just yet. She rounded the building and parked behind a large SUV that well hid her BMW.

  Violet considered how she might be able to watch Logan without being seen. Entering the history building might get her spotted by a faculty member, and she didn’t want to have a lengthy discussion about her recovery progress.

  In her mind’s eye, she saw Logan’s office. She imagined him sitting at his desk typing away on his computer or poring over tests and papers. The door would be on his side, where he’d easily spot anyone peeking in. But there was a full-length window to his back, and right now the sun cast a shadow on that side of the building.

  Violet hurried around the building, a thrill going through her when she saw she was right—a nice, deep shadow encased this entire side. And the row of tall trees nearby would give her cover, even if he did turn to look out his window.

  She crept past one window—just an empty office. She counted rooms in her head as she continued down the length of the building, passing several more, where other staff members were working. She breathed a sigh of relief that so far no one had seen her. At the last window, she ducked behind a tree and peered in his window. There. Logan sat at his desk, working with his back to her.

  The sight of him squeezed something inside her. She hadn’t expected the feelings that came—ones from years ago when she was a student under his tutelage back in Boulder. They’d been close back then but never involved romantically. When she’d tried to change that, he had disappeared on her, leaving the city without warning. It wasn’t until she’d run into him last summer that she discovered he’d transferred here.

  She studied him from behind. His dark hair was longer now, brushing the top of his shoulders in waves that just begged to be touched. Her fingers curled at the thought of touching it for the first time. A privilege she’d never had. One of the many. She sighed. There were so many boundaries left uncrossed. He’d been so kind to her once. A friend. A confidant. That closeness that had changed her in some way. For a moment she wondered if it had changed him too, but then she remembered the dark-haired tramp he was dating.

  Obviously Violet hadn’t made an impression on him—not one that mattered. Revenge might be sweet, but maybe there was something sweeter. Originally, Violet had intended to hurt him, but what if she could make him look at her the way Ras had? What if she could change him into a man that was head over heels for her? She deserved to be important, not just in general, but important to him. She deserved to be the woman he fell all over himself for, went out of his way to please, and whose every request he fulfilled. Not that Jade Edwards slut.

  When Logan swiveled in his chair to grab a pen, Violet caught a glimpse of his profile. Of his strong jaw, intense eyes, and chiseled features. Those should be hers to caress. To command. To control. He should be hers. Violet decided what she wanted more than anything was to have Logan Henry. It was time for her plan to change.

  She would make Logan hers. He would be at her feet begging.

  If only she could figure out to direct this new power. Violet turned her gaze to her clenched fist and watched the colored threads swim through the air. Could she expand her control to include more than just Ras? She focused on the threads, trying to send half of them to Logan. She was able to make the cluster vanish and return, but not to attach to him. She sighed in frustration.

  What could it be, then? Maybe she needed to be closer. Or face to face, with no walls between them? But she couldn’t risk that here. Not until she knew it worked.

  A prick of pain teased at the back of her skull. She winced. She stepped away from the window and leaned against the side of the building. Checking the time told her that her next dose of pain pills was still twenty minutes off. But she’d been medicating closer and closer. In the past week she’d upped her own doses, and now she was taking three times the recommended amount. She couldn’t go as long between either, which was irritating. She hadn’t brought the meds with her this time, but she made a mental note that she’d have to start keeping them in her purse.

  The colored threads flickered, and her eyes went wide. She strained to hold them in place, but they flicked out one by one. No, no no! She could feel the power dissolve. Her chance to claim Logan vanished with the threads.

  Another stab of pain hit—bigger and hotter than the first. She gripped her head in her hands and bit back a groan.

  Violet staggered through the grassy area behind the building, making her way back to her car. She had to get home. Forget Logan—she needed her medicine, and she needed it now.

  A fresh wave of agony slammed into her head, pulsing like a jackhammer. She stumbled and fell to her knees. This time she couldn’t stifle the raw groan that escaped her lips. Through vision blurred by the intense pain, she scanned the campus. There were few cars in the parking lot besides that deserted SUV, and there were no pedestrians within sight. She thought of Logan back at his office and considered hurrying back that way. She could rap on the glass to get his attention—but no, she couldn’t let him see her like this.

  Violet knew she couldn’t drive. Her vision grew hazy as she tried to stand and fell again. Unable to control her shaky, gasping breaths, she gave up on finding her car. Still gripping the phone in her hand, she managed to pull up Graham’s number and hit call. She rolled onto her side. Pain wracked her head, shot down her spine, and arced through her limbs. When his voicemail came on, she mumbled a plea for help. Before she could end the call, the pain tugged her into a pool of blackness. It swallowed her whole.

  ~

  A beep in Graham’s pocket alerted him to a missed call. He glanced at the name on the caller ID and frowned when he saw it was Violet. He needed to listen to the voicemail, but first, he had to finish closing the register. First day on the job, and it was a hectic one.

  The crowd had picked up after Jade left, when more of Ms. Mann’s fans came to buy books and get them signed. A long line snaked through the aisles and to his register. This was good news for the store, but not so good for Gra
ham, who hadn’t been through official training yet. He’d needed March to assist more than he liked to admit. But eventually, the signing ended, and the crowd died down.

  Beaded sweat cooled on the back of his neck, giving him goosebumps when the air conditioner kicked in.

  March approached the register. “You doing all right?”

  “I think so. I don’t know how to close down the register, though.”

  “It’s been a long day,” March said. “Why don’t you just head home and we’ll start with our official training tomorrow. I’m exhausted and I know you have to be, too.”

  “Are you sure?”

  She smiled. “One thing’s for sure. You’ve made a good impression on your first day. I can tell you’re a hard worker. And it was really good of you to step in for Jade.”

  “Sure. Being around books is practically heaven for me.”

  After leaving the shop, he dialed his voicemail while he headed to his car. When Violet’s message came on, he frowned. The frantic nature of her call and the harsh raspiness of her voice gripped his chest. It didn’t sound anything like the Violet he knew. He had to listen twice to understand where she was, but he started his car and drove toward campus.

  He didn’t immediately see her car near the history building, but he drove around the nearby parking lots and found it under the shade of a tree, next to an SUV. He pulled in next to her and hurried toward the figure that lay limp on the ground. Violet was conscious, barely, but her body convulsed, and she clutched at her middle. Her face was white.

  Kneeling down beside her, he touched her shoulder. “Violet—can you hear me?”

  “…ran out…pain meds,” she managed between guttural groans.

  Graham swore. “Can you stand?”

  “I…no…hurts too….” Her eyes squeezed tight with pain.

  “It’s okay. Don’t try to talk,” he said. Taking a deep breath, he scooped Violet into his arms. She was lighter than she looked. He used one hand to pry at the handle of his car door and his foot to push it the rest of the way open. Graham placed her in the front seat and pulled the seatbelt around her. He reclined the seat a bit so she could be more comfortable. Violet continued to make small, animal-like noises of pain, and now that she was sitting, she grabbed her head with both hands.