Dance Upon the Air

His ears were ringing. Or maybe it was just the sound of his heart banging against his ribs like a fist on piano keys. Either way, he couldn't get his mind clear or his body to move. He'd have worried about temporary paralysis if he could've worked up the energy to worry about anything.



"Okay," he managed and breathed in. "All right." And out again. "I guess I tripped."



"Me, too." She was flattened under him, in the perfect position to nuzzle at his throat.



"Did you get banged up anywhere?"



"No. You broke my fall." She gave the strong line of that throat a little scrape with her teeth. "Such a hero."



"Yeah. You bet."



"I rushed you. I hope you don't mind."



"It's a little hard to complain just at the moment." He found the energy to roll over, dragging her with him so she was cushioned against him. "But I'm hoping you'll give me a chance to show off my style and finesse."



She lifted her head, shook her hair back, and just grinned down at him.



"What?"



"I was just thinking how much I like your style. Every time I caught a glimpse of you tonight during the party, I just wanted to lick my lips. Big, handsome Sheriff Todd standing around in a suit he wished he didn't have to wear, nursing one lonely beer all evening so he could drive people home safe, and watching me with those patient green eyes until I was so turned on I'd have to go back to the kitchen just to calm down again."



"Is that right?" He ran his hands down her arms, amused when he hit the cuffs of her shirt. Carefully he began to unbutton them. "Do you know what I was thinking when I was watching you?"



"Not exactly."



"I was thinking how you looked like a dancer, all grace and competence. And I tried not to think what you might have on under that starched white shirt and sexy little vest."



Once he'd freed her wrists, he ran his hands back up her arms. "You've got such a fine, streamlined shape to you, Nell. It's been driving me crazy for weeks."



"I don't know how to explain how it makes me feel to know that. To feel steady enough to want that." She threw her head back, her arms up. "Oh, God! I feel so alive. I don't want it ever to stop."



She leaned down again, kissed him hard, then scrambled to her feet. "I want that champagne. I want to get drunk and make love with you all night."



"I can get behind that idea." He sat up, then his eyes widened as she pulled open the door. "What" re you doing?"



"Getting the champagne out of the car."



"Let me get my pants on, and I'll get it. Nell!" Stupefied, he sprang to his feet as she raced outside, naked as a jaybird. "Well, for God's sake!" He grabbed his pants, carrying them with him to the doorway. "Get back in here before I have to haul you in for indecent exposure."



"There's nobody to see." It felt fabulous, and exactly right to stand naked in the cool night air, to feel it caress the skin so recently heated by passion. With the grass tickling her feet, she threw her arms out to the side and turned in circles. "Come on out, it's a beautiful night. Moon and stars and the sound of the sea."



She looked impossibly alluring, the gold of her hair silvered by starlight, her milky skin shimmering with it, and her face lifted to the sky.



Then her gaze met his across the little patch of lawn with a power so intense it stole his breath. For a moment he would have sworn the whole of her sparkled.



"There's something in the air here," she said, turning her hands up, palms cupped as if she could catch the breath of the night. "I feel it inside me, beating like a pulse. And when I feel that, it seems I could do anything."



With her palm still cupped, she held out her hand to him. "Will you come kiss me in the moonlight?"



He couldn't resist, and didn't try, but walked to her, took her outstretched hand. With the sky sprinkling light over them, he lowered his mouth to hers in a kiss that warmed rather than burned.



The tenderness of it crept into her heart. When he lifted her into his arms, she cradled her head on his shoulder, knowing she was safe and welcome there.



He carried her inside, through the little cottage and to the old bed that shifted quietly under their weight.



Later, he told himself as he lost himself in her, he would think about how he felt to find himself falling in love with a witch.



***



She awoke before dawn from one of the snatches of sleep they'd allowed each other. She felt his warmth, and his weight. The ease of it, the sheer and steady normality of him, was both comfort and arousal.



She drew his face for herself in her mind, feature by feature. When she had it complete, she held it there as she slipped out of bed to start her day.



She showered, dressed in shorts and a sleeveless shirt. Quietly, she picked up the clothes they'd scattered in the living room and all but floated into the kitchen.



She'd never experienced desire like that before, not the kind that sprang like an animal inside you and swallowed you whole.



She hoped to have the experience again.



And the tenderness that had come later, the insatiable thirst for more, the dark, breathless groping. All of it.



Nell Channing had a lover. And he was sleeping in her bed.



He wanted her, and that was a thrill. He wanted her for who she was, and not who he could mold her to be. And that was a balm.



Blissful, she brewed coffee, and while its scent perfumed the air she worked up a dough for cinnamon buns, another for bread. While she worked she sang to herself and watched the new day put roses in the sky.



Once her garden was watered, and she'd sipped at her first cup of coffee, she slid a batch of buns into the oven. With her mug in one hand, a pencil in the other, she began to toy with her menu for the coming week.



"What're you doing?"



She jumped like a rabbit at the sleep-roughened sound of his voice, and the coffee slopped over onto the paper. "Did I wake you? I'm sorry. I tried to be quiet."



He held up a hand. "Nell, don't do that. It pisses me off." His voice was thick with sleep, and despite herself dread curled in her stomach as he stepped toward her.



"There's one thing I'm going to ask you." He picked up her mug, drank to clear his mind and voice. "Don't ever mix me up with him. If you'd waked me up and it annoyed me, I would say so. But the fact is I woke up because you weren't there and I missed you."



"Some habits are hard to break, no matter how much you try."



"Well, keep trying." He said it lightly, moved over to the stove to pour a full mug for himself. "You got something baking already?" He sniffed the air. "Mother of God." He breathed it, reverently. "Cinnamon buns?"



Her dimples flickered. "And if they are?"



"I'll be your slave."



"You're so easy, Sheriff." She got a hot mitt out of the drawer. "Why don't you sit down? I'll give you breakfast, and we can discuss what I expect from my slave."



***



On Monday morning Nell breezed into Cafe Book loaded with boxes of baked goods, called out a cheery hello, and swung upstairs.



At the front counter, Lulu stopped ringing up weekend mail orders, her lips twitching as Mia turned from stocking shelves.



"Somebody," Mia said, "got lucky this weekend."



"You going up to squeeze her for details?"



"Please." Mia tucked in another book, brushed lint from her skirt. "Do dryads dance in the woods?"



Amused, Lulu cackled. "Well, don't forget to fill me in."



Mia walked into the cafe, and through the homey, irresistible scent of cinnamon buns. "Busy weekend," she commented, scanning the morning's offerings.



"You bet."



"And a terrific party Saturday night. Hell of a job, little sister."



"Thanks." Nell lined up her muffins before pouring the first of the morning coffee for Mia. "I've got several meetings this week with potential clients that came out of it."



"Congratulations. But..." Mia drew in the scent of her coffee. "I don't think future catering jobs are what has you glowing today. Let me try one of those buns there."



Casually, she walked around to the rear of the counter while Nell selected the bun. "You definitely have the look of a woman who spent her weekend doing more than baking."



"I did some gardening. My tomato plants are coming right along."



"Mmm-hmm." She brought the fragrant bun to her lips, took a neat bite. "I'm imagining Sheriff Todd was just as tasty as this. Give. We open in ten."



"I shouldn't talk about it. It's rude, isn't it?"



"Absolutely not. It's required and expected. Have a little sympathy, will you? I haven't engaged in sexual activities for a considerable time, so I'm entitled to a few vicarious thrills. You look so damn happy."



"I am. It was wonderful." Nell did a quick little dance, then grabbed a bun for herself. "Outrageous. He has such... stamina."



"Oh. Mmm." Mia ran her tongue over her lips. "Don't stop now."



"I think we broke several standing records."



"Now you're bragging, but that's all right. You're among friends."



"You know the best part?"



"I'm hoping you'll tell me, and all the other parts as well."



"He didn't, doesn't, treat me like I'm fragile or needy or, I don't know... wounded. So I don't feel fragile or needy or wounded when I'm with him. The first time, we barely made it into the house, and ended up on the floor tearing at each other's clothes. It was so normal."



"We could all use a bit of that kind of normal now and then. He's a great kisser, isn't he?"



"Oh, boy, and when he..." Trailing off, Nell paled.



"I was fifteen," Mia explained as she bit into the cinnamon bun again. "He gave me a ride home from a party, and we satisfied our mutual curiosity with a couple of very long, very intense lip-locks. While I won't insult your intelligence and claim it was like kissing my brother, I will say we didn't suit and have chosen to be friends. But they were really fine kisses."



She licked icing off her finger. "So I have some small idea just how delightful your weekend was."



"I'm glad I didn't know that before. I might have been intimidated."



"Aren't you sweet? So, what are you going to do about Zachariah Todd?"



"Enjoy him."



"Perfect answer." For the moment. "He has really good hands, too, doesn't he?" Mia commented as she strolled away.



"Now you're going to have to shut up."



Laughing, Mia started down the steps. "I'm opening the doors."



And so, she thought, little sister, are you.



***



It wouldn't have surprised Mia to know that Zack was undergoing personal interrogation over coffee and buns as well.



"Didn't see you around much this weekend."



"Had stuff to do. And didn't I bring you a present?"



Ripley worked her way enthusiastically through the first bun. "Um. Good," she managed to slur. "Guess the stuff had to do with the island's best cook, which I cleverly deduced since you've got a bag holding half a dozen buns."



"Down to four now." He enjoyed one of his own while he slogged through paperwork at his desk. "John Macey still hasn't paid these parking tickets. He needs a goose."



"I'll goose him. So, you and Nell got down to the mattress rhumba?"



Zack gave her a single withering look. "You've got such a mushy, romantic heart, Rip. I don't know how you get through life with it weighing you down."



"Avoiding the question's usually answering the question in the affirmative. Cop 101. How'd it go?"



"Do I ask you about your sex life?"



She waved a finger, signaling a pause in the conversation while she swallowed. "Yes."



"Only because I'm older and wiser."



"Yeah, right." She snagged a second bun, not only because they were incredible but because she knew it would annoy him. "If we let you slide on the older and wiser bull, then we'll agree I'm younger and more cynical. Are you going to do a deeper run on her background?"



"No." Deliberately he opened a drawer, dropped the bag of buns inside, shut it.



"If you're serious about her, and knowing you, you are, you need a handle on it, Zack. She didn't drop out of the sky onto Three Sisters."



"She took the ferry," he said coolly. "What's your problem with her? I thought you liked her."



"I do. A lot, as it happens." She eased a hip onto the corner of his desk. "But for reasons that often escape me, I like you a lot, too. You've got a soft spot for the troubled and wounded, Zack, and sometimes, through no fault of their own, the troubled and wounded can bite right through the soft parts."



"Have you ever known me not to be able to take care of myself?"



"You're in love with her." When he blinked, stared, she pushed off the desk, paced restlessly around the office area. "What, am I blind and stupid? I've known you all my life, and I know every move, every tone, every expression on that dopey face of yours. You're in love with her, and you don't even know who she is."



"She's exactly who and what I've wanted my whole life."



Ripley stopped in the act of kicking the desk, and her eyes went soft and helpless. "Aw, damn it, Zack. Why'd you have to go and say something like that?"



"Because it's true. It's the way it is for us Todds, isn't it? We go along, go alone, then pow, it hits and it's all over. I've been hit, and I like it."



"Okay, let's just back up a little." Determined to stand up for him whether he wanted it or not, she slapped her palms on the desk, leaned over. "She's got trouble. She's managed to break free of it, at least temporarily, but it's there. He may come after her, Zack. If I hadn't been worried about you, I'd never have asked Mia about it. Rather saw my tongue in half with a rusty kitchen knife. But I did ask her, and she's not clear on it."



"Honey, what you said before about knowing me, that's true. Now what do you think my reaction is to what you just said?"



She hissed out a breath. "If he comes after her, he'll have to get through you."



"Close enough. Shouldn't you be out on patrol, or would you rather take the paperwork portion of our day?"



"I'd rather eat lice." She put on her cap, yanked the tail of her hair through the back. "Look, I'm glad you found someone who suits you. I'm even more glad I like her. But there's more to Nell Channing than a nice woman with a murky past who can bake like a team of angels."



"You mean she's a witch," he said easily. "Yeah, I figured that out. I've got no particular problem with it." So saying, he went back to the keyboard, chuckling to himself when Ripley slammed the door behind her.



***



"The goddess doesn't require sacrifice," Mia said. "She's a mother. Like a mother, she requires respect, love, discipline, and wants happiness for her children."



The evening was cool. Mia could already scent the end of summer. Soon her woods would change from green and lush to wild color. She'd already seen the woolly caterpillars, watched the busy squirrel hoarding nuts. Signals, she thought, of a long, cold winter.



But for now, her roses bloomed, and the most tender of her herbs trailed fragrantly among her garden stones.



"Magic springs from the elements, and from the heart. But its rituals are best served with tools, even visual aids, if you will. Any craft depends on certain routines and implements."



She walked through her garden to her kitchen door, opened it for Nell. "I have some for you."



The room was as fragrant as the garden. Hanks of herbs dried on hooks. Pots of flowers that Mia had chosen for indoor company stood on the long line of smooth counter. What could only be described as a cauldron sat on the stove, simmering away with the strong sweetness of heliotrope.



"What are you cooking?"



"Oh, just a little charm for someone who has a job interview later in the week. She's nervous." Mia passed a hand through the steam. "Heliotrope for success, sunflower for career, a bit of hazel to assist in communication-and this and that. I'll empower some suitable crystals for her that she can carry in a pouch in her purse."



"Will she get the job?"



"That's up to her. The Craft doesn't promise us everything we desire, nor is it a crutch for weak spines to lean on. Now, your tools," she continued, gesturing to the table.



She'd selected them carefully, with an image of Nell in her mind.



"You should, once you're home, cleanse them. No one should touch them without your permission. They require your energy. The wand is made from a birch branch pruned from a living tree on the winter solstice. The crystal on its tip is clear quartz. It was a gift to me from the one who trained me."



It was lovely, slim and smooth, and felt almost silky when Nell trailed a finger over it. "You can't give me something that was a gift."



"It was meant to be passed on. You'll want to have others, too; copper is good. This is your broom," she continued, lifting a brow as Nell stifled a laugh.



"Sorry, I just never thought... a broom?"



"You won't be riding on it. Hang it at the door of your home for protection, use it to sweep out negative energy. A cup-again, one day you'll want to select your own, but for now this will serve. I bought it at Island Market, glassware section. Sometimes the simple works best. The pentacle is from a maple bur. It must always stand upright. The athame isn't used for physical cutting, but for directing energy."



She didn't touch it, but told Nell to do so.



"Some prefer swords, but I don't think you will," she added as Nell explored the carved handle with a fingertip. "The blade's dull, and meant to be. The bolline, on the other hand, is meant to cut in the physical. The handle's curved, which will give you a good grip for harvesting your herbs and plants, carving wands, inscribing candles, and so on. There are those, kitchen witches, who use it to cut food. The choice is yours, of course."



"Of course," Nell agreed.



"I assume you can handle the purchase and selection of your own cauldron. Cast iron's best. You can find an incense burner that appeals to you at one of the gift shops, and the incense as well-cones and sticks are more accessible locally. When you've time you can make your own incense powder. You'll need some straw baskets, some swatches of silk. Do you want to write this down?"



Nell blew out a breath. "Maybe I'd better."



"Candles," Mia continued after handing Nell a pad and pencil. "I'll explain the purpose of colors and symbols. I have some crystals for you, but you'll want more, of your own selection. A couple dozen canning jars, with lids, a mortar and pestle, sea salt. I have a Tarot deck you can borrow, and some wooden boxes, though I'll want them back as well. This will get you started."



"It's more involved than I thought. Before-the day in the garden-all I did was stand there."



"There are things you'll be able to do with your mind and heart, and others that require things-as an extension of power, and as a respect for tradition. Now that you have a computer, you'll want to keep a record of spells."



"A record of spells, on my computer?"



"Why not be practical and efficient? Nell, have you spoken to Zack about any of this?"



"No."



"Are you worried about his reaction?"



She touched the wand again, and wondered. "That's part of it, but before we even get there, I don't know how I'd begin to tell him. I haven't resolved it completely for myself."



"Fair enough. What you share or don't is your choice, just as what you give or what you take."



"With Ripley feeling the way she does, I thought he might feel the same. 1 guess I don't want to hit any hitches so soon."



"Who could blame you? Let's take a walk."



"I really should be getting back. It's nearly dark."



"He'll wait." Mia opened a carved box, took out her wand. The tip was a round of quartz as smoky as her eyes. "Take yours. It's time you learned how to cast a circle. We'll keep it simple," she promised, nudging Nell through the door. "And after what I have in mind, I can almost guarantee the sex will be sensational."



"It's not all sex," Nell began. "But that's a definite plus."



As they walked toward the woods, a light mist swirled to hug the ground. Long shadows spilled out of the trees, black lines over pale gray.



"The weather's changing," Mia said. "The last weeks of summer always make me melancholy. It's odd, because I love the autumn, the smells and the colors of it, that slice in the air when you step out first thing in the morning."



You're lonely. Nell nearly said it before she checked her tongue. How could such a statement help but sound smug and self-satisfied coming from a woman who'd just taken a lover?



"Maybe a holdover from childhood," she suggested. "End of summer means back to school." She followed Mia down a well-beaten path, through mist and shadow. "I always hated those first couple of weeks of school, not so much if my father had a second year on the same base, but at those times when I was the new kid and everyone else was already picked off in groups."



"How did you handle it?"



"I learned how to talk to people, to make friends even though they were transient. Lived in my own head a lot. I guess some of that made me a perfect target for Evan. He promised to love, honor, and cherish, forever. I really wanted forever with someone."



"And now?"



"Now I just want to carve out my own space, and stick."



"Something else we have in common. This is one of my spaces."



They stepped into a clearing where the mist was white from the quiet light of the rising moon. The full ball of it shimmered between the trees, teased the dark summer leaves, spilled through at the edges of a stand of three stones. From the branches that ringed the clearing hung hanks of herbs. The glitter of strung crystals rang gently together in the light wind.



And the sound of the wind, the stones, the nearby sea, was music.



There was a primitive, essential feel to the place.



"It's beautiful here," Nell began, "and... I want to say eerie, but not in a frightening way. You almost expect to see ghosts, or headless horsemen. And if you did, it would seem absolutely natural, not frightening at all."



She turned, her steps shredding the mist like gray silk, and caught the scents of verbena, rosemary, and sage carried on the breeze from the tree branches.



Caught something else as well-a quiet hum that was almost like music.



"This is where you were the night of the solstice, before you came out to stand on the cliffs."



"This ground is hallowed," Mia told her. "It's said the sisters stood here, three hundred years and more past, and worked their spell to create their haven. Whether they did or not, I've always been drawn here. We'll cast the circle together. It's a basic ritual."



Mia drew her ritual knife from her pocket and began. Fascinated, Nell repeated the words, the gestures, and found herself unsurprised when a thin ring of light glowed through the smoke of the mist.



"We call on Air, on Earth, on Water and Fire to guard our circle and grant our desire. Here protect and witness this rite. Open our minds to the magic of night."



Mia laid down her knife, her wand, nodded to Nell after her chant was repeated. "You can cast your own circle in your own way, with your own words when you're ready. I hope you don't mind, but I prefer working skyclad when weather permits."



With this Mia slipped off her dress and folded it neatly while Nell gaped. "Oh, well, I don't really-"



"It's not required." At ease with her nakedness, Mia picked up her wand again. "I generally prefer it, particularly for this ritual."



There was a tattoo-a birthmark? Nell wondered. A small pentagram shape against the milk-white skin of her thigh.



"What ritual?"



"We'll draw down the moon. Some-most-usually do this when there's serious work to be done, but I sometimes need, or like, the extra burst of energy. To begin, open yourself. Mind, breath, heart, loin. Trust yourself. Every woman is ruled by the moon, just as the sea is. Hold your wand in your right hand."



Mirroring Mia's gestures, Nell lifted her arms, slowly raising them high, then clasping her wand with both hands.



"On this night, in this hour, we call upon Luna's power. Merge with us light into light." Slowly, the wands were turned, aimed at hearts. "Woman and goddess glowing bright. Power and joy pour down from thee. As we will, so mote it be."



She felt it, cool and fluid and strong, a flood of energy and light inside her. Pulsing, as that white ball of moon seemed to pulse as it rose gracefully above the trees. She could all but see it, blue-edged silver spurts of light that spun down and into her.



With the power came a rush of joy. It came out of Nell in a laughing gasp as Mia lowered her wand.



"Sometimes it's just lovely being a girl, isn't it? We'll close the circle now. I believe, little sister, you'll find an appropriate outlet for all that fresh energy."



***



When she was alone, Mia put her own energy to use working a protective spell. Nell had a great deal of natural power, largely untapped. She could and would help her explore it, control it, and refine it. But there was something more immediate preying on her mind now.



Within the circle, within the woods, she'd seen something Nell had not. She'd watched the single, dark cloud slide over the heart of the moon.