tone.
“Yes, well, the doctor said these things can take a week or more to clear up.” Pause. “Thanks. That’s kind of you. Bye.”
When I reached for the phone this time, Kailen didn’t move out of the way. I snatched it from his grasp. “I can’t keep missing work like this,” I hissed.
Kailen shrugged. “In my opinion, you have more important things to attend to right now. You sell daily planners, right? I think that can wait.” He held Jane out on his palm. “You may not like this woman, and with good reason, but she has been a mouse for four days. I've had to use my elicitation Talent to help her stay calm. She has family and friends who are wondering what happened to her and are assuming the worst. You did this, Nicole. You have to undo it.”
He had a point. I looked at the mouse and felt really awful (after all, what had she been eating ?), until a thought occurred to me. I pocketed the phone and waved a hand at him. “Why don’t you undo it?”
Calm, self-assured Kailen looked suddenly uncomfortable. He shifted from one foot to the next, his gaze going to the ceiling as if he’d spotted something truly interesting there. “I mean, sure I could, but that’s not the point. Are you hungry?”
I blinked at the quick change of subject. “I guess?”
“They have a great breakfast here. I think we got off on the wrong foot this morning.”
“Which could have been avoided if you hadn’t stolen my phone,” I muttered.
He continued as though he hadn’t heard this. “Come eat with me. We can talk over breakfast.” He hesitated. “This has probably been as hard on you as it has been on me. Maybe I haven’t gone about this the right way.” Kailen looked pained, as if getting this close to an apology physically hurt him.
I softened. Clearly the guy had issues. “Okay. Breakfast. I can do that.”
He dropped Jane into his breast pocket and opened the door for me.
The dining room of the inn was decorated in the same quaint Victorian way the room was, with its own little touches of modernity. Floral-patterned chairs contrasted with an LCD television mounted on the wall, CNN playing on mute, subtitles marching across the bottom of the screen. Although there were four other tables, we were the only people there. An elderly woman, probably the proprietress, took our orders for how we liked our eggs: me—scrambled, Kailen—hard-boiled.
As soon as she’d left for the kitchen, I leaned forward. “So what are you supposed to teach me?”
He only gave me an odd look. “You don’t need to whisper.”
“What? Isn’t the whole Fae thing a big secret or something?”
He shook his head as he unfolded his napkin and laid it in his lap. “No, not really. I told you already. The Fae world and this one have been disconnected for quite some time. People don’t exactly encounter it often. You can talk as loudly as you’d like. If anyone overhears, they’ll assume you’re a big nerd, or crazy. Trust me.”
I snorted.
Kailen ignored it. “You need to learn to focus and use your powers. Right now you’re firing off like a gun in a game of Russian roulette. No one knows when it’s going to happen, but they know it will, eventually.”
“So I’m dangerous?” I asked.
Again, Kailen’s gaze slid from mine. “It’s actually a lot like cooking.”
“I’m a terrible cook. I burn things. A lot.”
He laughed, a tight, nervous sound to it. “It’s just a metaphor. There are recipes, but the best cooks know how to improvise. You get an idea, you form it and focus it, and then you pack it with an emotional punch. Bam! You’ve done some magic.”
I thought back to finding Owen and Jane in bed together. “It can happen quickly,” I said.
“Yes. Just like in cooking, however, you need to clean up afterward. Doing magic leaves a signature. The longer you let this signature go without cleaning it up, the stronger it gets. If you don’t clean up, the signature will start to fade after a
“Yes, well, the doctor said these things can take a week or more to clear up.” Pause. “Thanks. That’s kind of you. Bye.”
When I reached for the phone this time, Kailen didn’t move out of the way. I snatched it from his grasp. “I can’t keep missing work like this,” I hissed.
Kailen shrugged. “In my opinion, you have more important things to attend to right now. You sell daily planners, right? I think that can wait.” He held Jane out on his palm. “You may not like this woman, and with good reason, but she has been a mouse for four days. I've had to use my elicitation Talent to help her stay calm. She has family and friends who are wondering what happened to her and are assuming the worst. You did this, Nicole. You have to undo it.”
He had a point. I looked at the mouse and felt really awful (after all, what had she been eating ?), until a thought occurred to me. I pocketed the phone and waved a hand at him. “Why don’t you undo it?”
Calm, self-assured Kailen looked suddenly uncomfortable. He shifted from one foot to the next, his gaze going to the ceiling as if he’d spotted something truly interesting there. “I mean, sure I could, but that’s not the point. Are you hungry?”
I blinked at the quick change of subject. “I guess?”
“They have a great breakfast here. I think we got off on the wrong foot this morning.”
“Which could have been avoided if you hadn’t stolen my phone,” I muttered.
He continued as though he hadn’t heard this. “Come eat with me. We can talk over breakfast.” He hesitated. “This has probably been as hard on you as it has been on me. Maybe I haven’t gone about this the right way.” Kailen looked pained, as if getting this close to an apology physically hurt him.
I softened. Clearly the guy had issues. “Okay. Breakfast. I can do that.”
He dropped Jane into his breast pocket and opened the door for me.
The dining room of the inn was decorated in the same quaint Victorian way the room was, with its own little touches of modernity. Floral-patterned chairs contrasted with an LCD television mounted on the wall, CNN playing on mute, subtitles marching across the bottom of the screen. Although there were four other tables, we were the only people there. An elderly woman, probably the proprietress, took our orders for how we liked our eggs: me—scrambled, Kailen—hard-boiled.
As soon as she’d left for the kitchen, I leaned forward. “So what are you supposed to teach me?”
He only gave me an odd look. “You don’t need to whisper.”
“What? Isn’t the whole Fae thing a big secret or something?”
He shook his head as he unfolded his napkin and laid it in his lap. “No, not really. I told you already. The Fae world and this one have been disconnected for quite some time. People don’t exactly encounter it often. You can talk as loudly as you’d like. If anyone overhears, they’ll assume you’re a big nerd, or crazy. Trust me.”
I snorted.
Kailen ignored it. “You need to learn to focus and use your powers. Right now you’re firing off like a gun in a game of Russian roulette. No one knows when it’s going to happen, but they know it will, eventually.”
“So I’m dangerous?” I asked.
Again, Kailen’s gaze slid from mine. “It’s actually a lot like cooking.”
“I’m a terrible cook. I burn things. A lot.”
He laughed, a tight, nervous sound to it. “It’s just a metaphor. There are recipes, but the best cooks know how to improvise. You get an idea, you form it and focus it, and then you pack it with an emotional punch. Bam! You’ve done some magic.”
I thought back to finding Owen and Jane in bed together. “It can happen quickly,” I said.
“Yes. Just like in cooking, however, you need to clean up afterward. Doing magic leaves a signature. The longer you let this signature go without cleaning it up, the stronger it gets. If you don’t clean up, the signature will start to fade after a
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