Page 19 of Magic & Mochas (Tales of Love & Lore #1)

Chapter thirteen

Ballgowns having both of my hands occupied made me uneasy, since it would make defending myself from attacks harder.

But the people strolling along the street in the warm, mid-afternoon light didn’t so much as glance in my direction. With the boxes in my hands, I probably looked about as threatening as an errand-boy. The anonymity was…refreshing.

The warlock approaches you from behind, warned one of my shadow soldiers.

Well, it was nice while it lasted.

Though I gave no outward sign of it, I went on high-alert. I subtly shifted most of the packages’ weight to my left hand, so my right would be free to wield a shadowsword if needed. Since the sun was high in the sky, I had plenty of shadows to work with.

Now that I was listening for it, I did indeed hear the sound of footsteps behind me. Just one set, so the Maeve Coven witch must not be with him.

When Rasmus reached out to place a hand on my shoulder, I turned sideways to stare at him, leaving his hand hovering in mid-air. The warlock’s face froze in surprise for a moment before he plastered a smile on his face. It did not reach his eyes.

“Tom, what a surprise running into you here.” He crossed his arms over his chest.

“It’s Thorne.” I resisted the urge to roll my eyes at his obvious ploy to get a rise out of me. How childish. “And you don't look all that surprised to see me.”

“Look, I’m only trying to be polite.” Rasmus waved his hands in a gesture of openness, which was when I noticed he was holding a violet rose. A rose the exact same shade as Clove’s favorite dress.

“Is that a gift for your…girlfriend, Nora?” I asked pointedly.

His eyebrow twitched when I got his mistress’ name wrong. Two could play at that game.

“No, it’s not for Nyssa,” he ground out through gritted teeth. “It’s for my lovely little Clover.”

I sharpened my gaze, tempted to rip the rose right out of his hand and crush it. When I didn’t say anything, Rasmus began to fidget. Sure enough, he soon cracked under the silent pressure.

“If you must know, I intend to ask her to be my partner for the Moonlit Masquerade Ball.” His eyes flicked down to the boxes in my hand.

“I see she’s already sent you to collect her dress, but that won’t be necessary; I’ve already picked out a much more refined one for her that will match my tuxedo. ”

“I’m afraid you’re a little late. Clove will be attending the ball as my partner.

” I stepped closer, using my height advantage to tower over him, while letting wisps of shadows dance in the air between us tauntingly.

“So I suggest you magic yourself up a new rose—perhaps a green one, to match the only partner you have left—your mistress.”

Beads of sweat formed on his wide forehead. His eyes darting down to the boxes I still held was all the warning I needed.

When magic sparked at his fingertips and his rose transformed into a writhing whip with thorns, I was ready. I dodged to one side and lifted the boxes out of the way before the extending thorns could pierce them and ruin our outfits. My cheek stung, and I felt a trickle of warmth drip down my skin.

All this lazing about had made me rusty.

“How pathetic,” I spat. “Even if you did destroy her dress, you are the last person Clove would ever attend the ball with!”

I lashed out with my shadows, but scowled when they hit an invisible forcefield and slid harmlessly to the side.

“Nice try,” Rasmus said with a smirk. “But you won’t be able to get me with the same sneak-attack as last time. And Clove is mine —I just need to remind her of that fact, and we can go back to the way things were!”

Summon us, my lord! cried several of my shadow soldiers.

Your lord is not so weak that he cannot handle a single warlock alone, I retorted. Sit back and watch the show.

“Clove is her own person—she doesn’t belong to anyone,” I growled, preparing my shadows. “You chose Nora, and Clove chose me—accept it!”

While Rasmus was sputtering out his reply, I used my shadows to lift the boxes away behind me, and formed a sword made of living shadow in my hand. Before the warlock could process the sight of my new weapon, I had cut through his flimsy barrier and rested the blade at his throat.

He froze, his eyes going impossibly wide. “S-shadows can’t cut—”

I increased the pressure just enough to break the skin. The writhing whip in his hand wilted, the spikes shrinking back down into regular-sized thorns.

“Leave Clove alone.” My voice took on the rough edge I had used in battle. “If you dare to so much as look at her between now and the ball, your outfit will be the least of your worries.”

Rasmus’ throat bobbed, and when he realized I was being serious, he slowly nodded. “Fine. Let go already, you stupid adventurer.”

My eyes narrowed. His comment reminded me of how he had called me a murderer in front of Clove. My grip tightened, causing the warlock’s eyes to widen in fear.

“Would a ‘party murderer’ let you go?” I hardly recognized my own voice. The anger and resentment I’d been repressing bubbled up to the surface.

“No.” Rasmus started shaking, and tears welled in his eyes.

The sight brought me abruptly back to myself. What was I doing? Taking my anger out on this soft warlock wasn’t what I should be doing right now.

I had come here for a fresh start, and yet here I was, dwelling in the past and behaving like the sort of adventurer I had so wrongly been accused of being. But unlike before, I had someone waiting for me. Someone for whom I wanted to be a better person.

Without another word, I released Rasmus, who stumbled backwards, but managed to regain his balance before he fell onto the pavement. My shadows returned the boxes to me.

“Move on with your life, Rasmus,” I said as I turned to leave. “Clove already has.”

Instead of waiting for a reply, I strode away, leaving him staring after me.

Shall I continue to monitor the warlock, my lord? asked the soldier in Rasmus’ shadow.

Yes. He’s a stubborn mule, so I want him watched until he leaves Willowmere entirely, I replied.

Understood. I will continue my regular reports.

I used the short walk back to The Broom & Bean to get my emotions under control. I took a few deep breaths of the crisp October air, and let the chattering of distant voices and the peaceful chiming of some windchimes soothe my frayed edges.

Before I could use my shadows to open the shop’s door, it swung open on its own. Or so I thought, until Silas meowed at me. That cup of whipped cream must have been more effective than I’d thought. I was actually rather touched that the feline had accepted me enough to open the door for me.

“Thanks, Silas. I got a treat for you earlier—remind me to give you your dessert later this evening.” He meowed again instead of hissing, so I took that as a good sign.

“I’ll send you the map tomorrow for where to drop off the drinks!” Mei called over her shoulder to Clove, as she nearly bumped into me. I steadied her with my shadows. “Oh, hi Thorne! I’ve got to run, but I’ll see you both at the ball!”

“I’ll look forward to having some more of your dumplings,” I replied as she exited the shop. The fire drake gave me a thumbs-up through the window.

Chuckling to myself, I wove carefully between occupied tables until I made it behind the front counter, where Clove was waiting with an expectant look in her turquoise eyes.

“Coralyn finished the alterations for us,” I said with a smile as I set the neatly wrapped boxes on the counter.

“I can’t wait to see them,” she said excitedly, tracing a finger along the bow. She looked back up to say, “Thanks for picking them up—”

When Clove stared at me, frowning, I stilled. “Clove? What is it?”

“How did this happen?” She reached a hand up to my cheek, her thumb tracing the skin just below the mark left by Rasmus’ thorns.

“It’s nothing. I wasn’t paying enough attention and got pricked by a thorn, is all,” I explained smoothly. She had enough to worry about, what with catering the drinks for the ball. I didn’t want to add today’s little incident to that list.

“Don’t lie to me, Thorne,” Clove said sternly, with a scowl. “I can sense Rasmus’ magic from this wound. What happened?!”

I winced. “Rasmus is perfectly fine, I promise. You don’t have to worry about him.”

“I’m not worried about him,” she said heatedly, and took my face in her hands.

I went very, very still.

“Then…” I trailed off, my eyes searching hers.

“I’m worried about you!” The intensity in her gaze rooted me to the spot. “I don’t want you getting hurt or in trouble with the sheriff for my sake. I couldn’t care less about my ex—so long as he’s still breathing somewhere far away from me!”

Had I really considered leaving this woman only a few minutes ago? How could I possibly have considered leaving behind the one and only person in this world who was actually worried about me getting hurt, instead of my opponent?

If I wandered away from her now, I knew deep in my bones I would regret it for the rest of my life.

I couldn’t hide from the truth or keep denying it any longer. I had fallen for Clove. I had fallen for her from the very first day we met. I had simply been too afraid to admit it, even to myself.

I closed my eyes, melting into her touch. “Rasmus spotted me leaving Bubbles & Bobbins, and tried to ruin your dress. He was under the delusion that you would then go to the ball as his partner if he provided a new dress that matched his outfit for you.”

“Of course he did,” Clove muttered angrily. “But Thorne, you know you’re more important to me than some stupid dress, right?”

“I do now.” A lump rose in the back of my throat.

“Good.” Clove nodded, and I felt magic start to gather in her fingertips, which hadn’t moved from my face. “I hope you made him regret this scratch.”

“What sort of shadowmancer worth his salt wouldn’t?” I scoffed. “I gave him one to match, with a warning.”

“Well done.” She gave me a wicked grin. “If the look on his face was anything like the one from the other night when he barged in here, then I’m almost sad I missed it.”

Her nose scrunched in concentration, and I felt an itching sensation in my cheek, right where the scratch was.

“There. All healed up.” She traced her thumb over the fresh skin where the cut had been, before pulling her hands back.

I didn’t let her get far, though. I grabbed her healing hands, and this time, it was her turn to go still.

I kissed her forehead softly. “Thank you. For caring.”

“Always.”

I smiled. “Now I suppose you had better go try on that dress.”