Page 4 of Wooing the Wiccan (Elf Magic #1)

CHAPTER FOUR

Raeulfr

Jared’s face wears a clearly uncomfortable expression, but I can’t let go of this subject yet.

Perhaps I should—definitely, I should—but it’s been a long time since I met someone who so instantly fascinated me in this way.

There’s physical attraction, yes, but that’s easy enough to disregard.

It was the way he so genuinely tried to learn my name that captured my attention.

People who show true respect for others in that way are far rarer than they should be.

Truthfully, though, his looks do have something to do with it. His narrow features are interesting, but it’s the warmth in his brown eyes and the wild way his dark curls tumble over his forehead that appeal to me the most. He’s handsome in an approachable way.

I’ve been watching him for the past half hour.

Even when I was helping others, part of my attention was on him.

There are differences between the way humans use the life force and elf spellcasting, but we share enough similarities that I can see what he’s trying to do.

He has a lot of “magical” strength, and it’s easy to tell that he’s been diligent about practicing and building his ability.

So far, these are all things I can respect deeply, and they just add to the interest I feel.

“It’s in the nature of beings such as us to constantly be setting new goals and dreams for ourselves, especially when we attain the old ones.

There will always be something that seems out of reach—and perhaps it is.

Perhaps it will stay that way. The important part is how you cope with the knowledge that you may never reach it.

” I stop abruptly. I’m so used to giving counsel to my people that I’d forgotten for a moment that Jared isn’t one of them.

To him, I’m not the life force’s representative to our species—I’m just a man he barely knows who’s presuming to give him advice he never asked for. How embarrassing.

I sneak a glance toward the corner where Ari, my guard today, is standing behind some clever spellwork that hides his presence. Sure enough, he’s watching with a big grin. This is definitely going to be discussed during the daily security briefing.

Holding in a sigh, I turn my attention back to Jared and say, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to lecture. Force of habit.”

To my surprise—and pleasure—he chuckles. “Please don’t apologize. You’re right. There are some things I may not ever get, and I still haven’t processed that. I guess that contributes to the whole shackled thing.”

Emotional maturity is so refreshing. I try to guess his age, but that’s something I struggle with when it comes to humans. He’s not old, but perhaps settled enough into life to understand himself.

“Do you think that’s what’s stopping me from manipulating air?” he asks, and I blink in surprise.

“No. You almost have it, in fact—a few more attempts should see success. Do you want to try again?”

Squaring his shoulders, he inhales deeply and nods. “Yes. Would you watch? Let me know if I’m getting off track?”

From what I’ve seen so far, he just needs to persevere, but I’m reluctant to give up the extra few moments with him, even if he will be concentrating on something else. “Of course.”

He smiles at me and then closes his eyes.

I see the way the life force moves around him as he draws it to him in preparation for shaping it to his purpose.

His lips move, and though I’m sure he never intended for me to hear, elf hearing is better than human.

Not as good as shifter, or even vampire, but still good enough for me to catch the words of his spell.

The life force reacts to his intent, a little more strongly than before, but not enough.

Jared opens his eyes, his mouth twisting into a disappointed smile. “I’ll keep trying.”

“You’re so very close,” I assure him. “May I make a suggestion?”

He nods. “Please do.”

“Instead of trying to create an air movement from scratch, try working with an existing movement. Just the first time, so you can get a sense of how it should feel.”

A tiny line appears between his brows. “Do you mean try to capture the wind?”

“Oh, no!” Alarm floods me. “That would be ambitious. Leave the wind be for the time being. No, I meant…” I reach out and grab one of the small candles I put on each table before the class began, for anyone who wanted to practice with fire to use.

There are also tiny paper espresso cups, for gathering water into.

Beginners’ tools that Caoimhe gave me to bring. With barely a thought, I set it alight.

“Wow,” Jared says. “You make it look so easy… but also a little different?” That line deepens.

“I’ve been doing this a long time,” I say vaguely.

I can’t exactly tell this unknowing human that it looks different because I’m an elf.

Time to distract. “So, when I hold the candle here”—I extend it to arm’s length in front of me—“and blow with this amount of force”—I demonstrate with what is essentially a light exhale—“the movement of air isn’t strong enough to reach and extinguish the candle.

However, if I repeat it, and this time give it a little boost with a spell…

” I exhale again, giving the air a tiny nudge with the life force, and the breath is augmented, extinguishing the candle and drifting over the skin of my hand.

“It’s sometimes easier to work with what already exists than to create something new. ”

There’s a hint of excitement on his face now, and it makes me smile.

“I never thought of that,” he admits. “May I?” He holds out his hand for the candle, and I pass it to him.

“You really must have been doing this for a long time,” he says as he carefully lights it.

He’s very good with that small magic, not needing a spell or even to stop speaking as he does it.

“You were very smooth when you put the candle out. I barely saw what you did, and I was watching for it.”

Part of that was because he was watching for me to do it the way a human would.

“Since I was a child,” I say, again trying to distract him.

I need to be more careful. “In my family, we’re taught small spells as soon as we’re old enough to understand how they work and the impact they have.

” That’s completely true—all elves learn minor spellcasting at the same time we learn to read and write.

It’s an intrinsic part of our natures and lives.

It used to be the same for humans—I remember clearly how in tune they were with their magic, before the species wars here on Earth changed the way the community existed.

It deeply saddened me when we migrated here over a decade ago and I learned that humans had truly lost their ability to use magic.

Until then, I’d hoped that the reports from my scouts were the result of incomplete information.

Though the reasons for it are awful, it does give me a small measure of pleasure to know that some humans are relearning it.

No species should lose part of itself.

Jared holds the candle at arm’s length. His hands are large, and his long fingers have some small smudges on them… paint? Is he an artist?

He blows gently, just as I did the first time, but doesn’t reach for the life force. A practice run. I keep my expression neutral but inwardly applaud. This will give him a better idea of how the breath should feel and how much energy he needs to use.

On his second exhale, he draws power, whispering his spell. The flame flickers but doesn’t quite go out. His delighted laugh puts to rest my concern that he would be disappointed.

“Did you see that? I felt it! It wasn’t strong enough to put out the candle, but it was a lot stronger than naturally!” He grins at me. “I bet I get it next time.”

I grin back and raise a brow. “I bet you do. Care to show me?”

He turns his gaze back to the candle, laughter fading into determination. Inhale, power, then?—

“Yes!” The hand not holding the now-extinguished candle punches the air. “Wow, that feels good.”

“Congratulations. That was very nicely done.”

Jared lays the candle on the table and turns his happy face to me. “Thanks mostly to your excellent advice. Can I buy you a thank-you drink after this?”

Shocked, I hesitate. I can’t remember the last time someone I just met wanted to engage with me socially. But then, most of them meet King Raeulfr, the species leader of the elves, and even if they might have wanted to, they assume I’m too busy or would say no.

I’m silent too long, because Jared’s excitement dims to politeness. “Please don’t feel obliged. It was just a thought, and I promise there are no hard feelings if you’d?—”

“Yes,” I blurt, and over in the corner, Ari straightens. If he was hoping for an early night, he’ll be disappointed. “I’d like that.”

Now it’s Jared’s turn to hesitate. “Are you sure? Because?—”

“I’m very sure,” I say firmly. “I was just surprised, but I’d enjoy that a lot. You don’t have to buy my drink, though.”

His smile reappears, and he shakes his head. “Yes, I do. But actually, is it okay if it’s just coffee? I have work tomorrow, and I don’t ever drink on a work night.”

Excellent. That will save me from having to pretend to be affected by the alcoholic content of my drink. “Coffee would be perfect. Or dare I say, tea?”

“We are so destined to be friends,” he jokes, and then his gaze goes over my shoulder. “I think you’re needed, but I’ll wait for you when we’re done here and we can head out. There’s a great indie bookstore two blocks from here that stays open late for college students, and it has a café.”

“Perfect. Now… try moving the air from scratch.” I wiggle my brows at him, immediately feeling foolish, but his chuckle as I stand and walk toward the woman who needs my help makes a little foolishness worthwhile.

It’s not long after that when the class wraps up for the evening.

As people begin to wander out, Jared starts in my direction, only to stop when a strident ringtone cuts through the air.

He pulls a phone from his pocket and glances at the screen, then meets my gaze and points to the hall.

I nod. I need to gather all the candles and cups and put the furniture back the way the community center requested.

As soon as the room is empty, Ari drops the spell that’s been hiding him. “Sir, I say this in the most respectful way possible: What are you doing?”

“Tidying up,” I reply calmly, my hands full of small tapers. “Could you grab the bag these were in?”

He obeys, but if I thought he’d let it go, I was so very wrong. “We don’t have a security protocol in place for this.”

“I’ve had tea in a public place before, Ari. We don’t need a security protocol.” I drop the candles in the bag and go back for the cups while he begins stacking chairs.

“Not with a stranger. A human stranger,” he hisses.

“That makes it even safer. He has no idea who I am, and nor will anyone else at this bookstore, most likely. Not that there’s any active threat to my safety anyway. You’re beginning to sound like Steffen Draco.” It gives me plenty of satisfaction to get that dig in.

Ari narrows his eyes. “If this is the kind of escapade Brandt gets up to, I’m beginning to understand why Steffen is so strict.”

I laugh. “Escapade? It’s a cup of tea in a bookstore café, to which I’m certain you’ll follow us. That hardly counts as an escapade.”

We move to rearrange the tables, and he says, “It does for you. Especially since you’re doing it with an unknown human—and one who’s seen you spellcast. Have you forgotten how big a danger humans present to the community?”

I pull out my trump card. “Not this one, or he wouldn’t be here. Have you forgotten that Steffen insisted on a rigorous background check on every human invited to the program?”

He falls silent, and I savor the victory for a few seconds before relenting.

“It’s a cup of tea in a quiet café,” I reiterate.

“He has to work tomorrow, so we’ll probably be all done and on our way home in an hour.

He’s been vetted, you’ll be watching the whole time, and I promise to be careful and not give anything away.

I work hard, Ari. Let me have this one small thing. ”

He sighs, and I know I’ve won.