Bound Powers Page 6

  “Come on. Get up.”

  “No.” Joy burrowed into the coat, then let out a shriek as he grabbed her shoulders, coat and all, and set her on her feet. She couldn’t feel her toes.

  “Yes. You’re turning into an ice block. That woman down the road will be able to carve you into a peacock or whatever that thing is.”

  “It’s an ostrich, and it’s very stylish.” Or so the woman had told Joy several times. It was a very beloved garden feature, that ice sculpture.

  “One of them, then.”

  Joy sighed. She did see the point, as her extremities might as well have not existed for how much she could feel them.

  “Can you cross the road or do I need to hold your hand?”

  “Oh, you’re rude.” Joy laughed. “So that runs in the family.”

  Peregrine smiled, looking pleased, but didn’t reply. He did steady her with a hand at her elbow as they crossed the road, heading for the gateway into the community of fabric and tarp houses.

  “Where are we going?” she asked, weaving around the tents spread along a worn path in the field, dodging guy ropes. TV conversations drifted from inside one home while the banging and tinkering of cooking came from another. The whole place smelled leafy and homely and Joy felt wistful again for whatever nameless magic made it feel that way.

  “In,” Peregrine ordered as they reached a beige tent with a flat roof, a point on either end like a spire. It was as big as Joy’s house, maybe bigger, and though it should have been covered in signs of rain and specks of dirt and snow, it was pristine, kept that way by someone’s elven magic.

  Joy shuddered as she edged through the door, each flap lined with something magnetic that snapped back together when she and Peregrine were inside. It was so warm after the icy outside that once Joy had shivered, she couldn’t stop shaking. Her whole body burned with the warmth, especially her hands and feet.

  “Fire. Sit.”

  “You’re very commanding,” Joy muttered as she lowered herself to the thick rug in front of the fire that had leapt to life when they entered, not in any sort of grate or fireplace and entirely without smoke. Joy had never envied their environmental magic before but this instant fire was worthy of envy.

  “You’re very cold,” he retorted. She couldn’t argue with that.

  “You live here alone?” She craned her head back, trying to figure out how there was a second floor in a tent, let alone a wooden staircase with a polished bannister. Despite the outside, everything inside looked like any other open plan house. Modern kitchen in the corner, sofas and TV arranged around the fire, stacks of books and CDs and DVDs piled near the walls along with an even larger tower of video games. There were no lamps, but the room was lit steadily regardless, all but a shadowed partition that must have housed Peregrine’s bedroom. “It’s huge.”

  Peregrine laughed, a rich, unrestrained sound. “No chance. I have five brothers around here somewhere.”

  “Five brothers?” Joy couldn’t imagine it.

  “Yep. Each of them a bigger pain in my ass than the last.”

  Joy was still struggling to imagine having five brothers. The closest she came to a brother was Gus and he was definitely more friend than sibling. She didn’t insult him or beat him up daily, which was her only picture of having a brother.

  “Here, eat this.” Peregrine lowered himself to the sofa beside her and put a bowl in her hands. Some kind of soup filled it, clear and pale. “Well. Drink it.”

  “What is it?” But it smelled so good that she sipped it anyway and drank the whole bowl without complaint after that first sip. It tasted deep and peppery and sweet. As it filled her stomach, she felt her toes and fingers returning to her, and an ache that had become so permanent in her chest loosened and disappeared. “It’s magic,” she breathed.

  “No?” Sarcasm. Joy’s eyes slitted as she looked at him. “Magic? In a magic camp full of magic elves? Are you sure?”

  Joy pursed her lips and elbowed him, an action that stunned her in how natural and easy it was. Peregrine snorted, looking even more pleased than before.

  “It’s my dad’s recipe,” he told her, readjusting himself on the sofa cushions. “Good for illness and frozen limbs and bad moods. He also used to say it’d tell the dark elf if we misbehaved and he’d come in his chariot to carry us off, but I think that was mostly because it scared the shit out of us and it was the only way to get us in line.”

  Joy raised her eyebrows.

  “Only child, huh?” Peregrine grinned, and it transformed his face into something more boyish, unburdened.

  “I had a cat?” Joy offered.

  Peregrine groaned. “That’s not fair. I wanted a cat, but dad would never let me trade Than for a Bengal.”

  Joy shook her head, smiling. “I always wanted a brother or sister. We could have swapped.”

  “We still can.” Peregrine looked dead serious but she could tell from how he spoke about his brothers that he loved them.

  “The cat died.”

  Peregrine’s head tilted, one quick swoop. “So it’s not the one sat outside? The one patiently waiting by the door?”

  Joy frowned. “Huh?”

  “Large, grey, judgemental.”

  “Oh, for God’s sake.” Joy shoved up from the couch and pulled the magnetic doors apart. Sure enough, her stalker was sat on her ass, waiting. Patiently was a bit of a stretch though.

  Yow, she greeted. If cats could smirk, she’d be wearing the biggest.

  Joy groaned and let the tent flaps close. “That’s my stalker,” she told Peregrine, “not my pet.”

  “Oh.” He looked contemplative. “So you won’t be that sad to lose it. The swap still stands.”

  Joy laughed loudly. She liked Peregrine. She wasn’t sure when it had happened, but she really did like him. At least until he said, “You need to talk to Gabriella about your hands.”

  Pride

  Gabi jumped halfway out of her body as her phone vibrated in her hand, pressing answer without really thinking through. “Pride.”

  “Hey, it’s Peregrine. Just thought you’d want to know Joy’s at mine. In case you were worried. She said she ran out on you.”

  “She’s there?” Gabi breathed, her emotions in tatters. “Is she alright?”

  “She’s fine now.”

  “Now?” Gabi was aware her voice was rising. “What do you mean now?”

  “She was cold. I gave her some of my dad’s broth and she’s alright now. Stop worrying.”

  “I’m coming over.”

  “Not necessary.”

  “Peregrine.”

  “Gabriella.”

  She sighed, slumping. “You’re sure she’s alright?”

  “Yes. I’ll even escort her home. You can see her there.”

  “Alright,” Gabi said, breathless with fear and relief. “Okay. I’ll do that.”

  “Stop worrying,” he said. “I mean it.”

  “I will.” As soon as she’d seen Joy and apologised for an hour straight.

  “Relax.”

  “I’m perfectly relaxed,” she snapped.

  “Yes,” Peregrine said, deadpan. “Perfectly.”

  “Shut up,” Gabi huffed and put the phone down.

  “Do you ever think,” Gus began, standing behind her with his hands shoved in his jeans pocket, “that you’re a bit impolite sometimes?”

  Gabi pointed the phone at him like a weapon. “You want to see impolite?”

  He blinked. “Not particularly.”

  “Good choice.”

  Gus perched on a chair arm, frowning. “If you’re going to see Joy, I’m coming with. You’re not the only one worried about her.”

  “But you didn’t do anything to upset her. You didn’t run her off.”

  “We’ve gone thought this.” Maisie made a sound of agreement, lifting her head from her blanket nest. “You just touched her. You didn’t mean to freak her out. You might be the cause, but it’s not your fault.”

  Gabi
scowled, picking up her car keys. “I’m leaving now. I’ll wait for her at the house.”

  “Did you not hear what I said? I’m coming with.”

  Maisie made it clear she was also coming with, scrambling out of her bed.

  Gabi stuffed her feet into shoes. “If you’re not in the car before I’m ready, I’m driving off without you.”

  Gus rushed off for his coat.

  Despite her words, Gabi waited for him. And paced. And paced more. Maisie brushed against her leg, though it did nothing to calm Gabi. Even when they piled into the car and they were on the main road, driving toward Joy’s house, Gabi felt jittery and wrong. It only eased slightly as she climbed out of the car and looked up the road to see Joy and Peregrine walking towards her. But then her worry changed shape. It became less of what if Joy’s hurt to what if she never wants to see me again?

  She shoved her hands deep in her coat pockets, glancing between the sandy stone under her feet and Joy, getting nearer and nearer. But when Joy was close enough to see properly, that worry for her health burst out of Gabi again, intensified, and she launched forward before she could agree to the movement. Joy made a sound in the back of her throat as Gabi collided with her and bound her in a hug so tight it could have restricted breathing.

  “Are you alright?” Joy didn’t respond in a millisecond, so Gabi’s panic flared. “Joy. Are you alright? Are you hurt? You went without your coat and shoes and—Peregrine said something about cold—”

  “I’m fine,” Joy insisted, trying to pull back to look at Gabi. “I’m alright, Gabi. I’m sorry I ran, I was just—it was stupid. I panicked. I’m not hurt. I’m fine. Really.”

  Gabi did not let herself believe this, still holding Joy as tight.

  “I didn’t think you’d—I didn’t realise I’d make you this worried.” She drew her lip between her teeth, worried it.

  A laugh rose in Gabi’s chest. She was only vaguely aware of the street around them, of Gus half hanging out the car and Maisie watching through the back window, Peregrine hovering awkwardly behind Joy. None of it really registered, not with Joy okay and wondrous in Gabi’s arms and her words—I didn’t realise I’d make you this worried—rattling around Gabi’s head, inflaming every jagged emotion in Gabi. “Of course I’d be worried,” she breathed. Disbelief coloured her voice. “Of course I’d be worried, Joy, I love you. In what world would I ever not be—”

  “You love me?” Joy’s voice was quiet, unknowable. “Are you sure?”

  Gabi couldn’t hold back the bubble of laughter. “Joy Mackenzie. You clueless woman. I haven’t kept it secret. I never said it but I didn’t think I had to because I was so obvious about—”

  Joy’s fingers curled into the collar of Gabi’s coat, tugging her down, and then they were kissing and it was everything Gabi had wanted, needed, and never let herself dream of. It was big enough to fill the whole world with relief and hope and wonder and warmth. Gabi’s heart beat fast. Her hands bound themselves in the messy strands of Joy’s hair. She thought her breathing hitched because she was breathless from kissing Joy, from holding her after wanting to so badly, for so long, but hot tears slipped down her cheeks. She realised, mortification threading through her awed happiness, that she was crying. When she opened her eyes, Joy was crying too, tears dripping from her chin, but she was beaming as well, smiling wider than Gabi had seen in a very long time. All the closed down, furled emotions in her heart, pushed aside for so long, unfurled and stretched and reached into every corner of Gabi’s body. Gabi could not remember ever being so full of happiness.

  Joy laughed, extricating her hands to dry her face on the sleeve of a coat two sizes too large for her.

  Gabi could not convince her face to return to normal; it was too busy grinning. “I have your wellies in my car. And your coat.”

  “I don’t care,” Joy laughed, looking at Gabi with such an intense gaze that her stomach filled with fluttering. ”Can we—does this mean you want to—you want me?”

  Gabi’s entire body was full of fondness. “The kiss didn’t give it away?”

  Joy’s eyes were wide. “No, not really.”

  She laughed, pulling Joy close again. “Well I do want you. So much. Is that alright? Do you want me or—”

  “Yes,” Joy said quickly. “If that’s an option, yes. Yes, please.”

  “That’s very polite,” Gabi said on a laugh.

  “Well someone has to make up for your rudeness.”

  “Oh, that’s how it is?”

  Joy matched Gabi’s grin. “That’s how it is.”

  A cough cut through the gauzy bubble of elation around them. Gabi gave Gus a flat look. “Yes?”

  “Am I allowed to enquire after the health of my friend?”

  “I suppose.”

  “I’m fine, Gus,” Joy said, still smiling. Her gaze moved to Maisie. “I’m okay. I just freaked out. I’m better now.”

  Gus’s expression was sceptical but he shrugged and let it drop.

  “And don’t think you can just ask Gabi to tell you later, either,” Joy said with a knowing glance that made Gus dip his head. “There’s nothing wrong with me. I’m okay.”

  “Well,” Peregrine disagreed.

  “You,” Joy said, pinning him with her eyes. “Quiet.” She sighed, her eyes shadowing. “I’ll talk about it, okay? Stop interfering.”

  Peregrine held up his hands. Gabi could see past the amusement on his face to a deeper worry, which sobered her quickly.

  “Let’s go inside,” Joy sighed. “Gus, Mais, can you give Gabi and me some time to talk?”

  Gus nodded, halfway to the house. He stopped to catch the keys Joy threw him then opened the door. “I’ll be in the front room.” Maisie went after him, looking back once at Joy, her eyes concerned. Gabi knew the feeling.

  “Thank you,” Joy said to Peregrine. Gabi watched the two of them closely. There was a bond between them she couldn’t understand. How were they friends when they’d only met once before? Gabi felt suddenly territorial and disgruntled and didn’t know who she was feeling possessive of. It could be either.

  She went inside, annoyed at herself for this shitty emotion. Peregrine was her brother and could have as many friends as he wanted. Joy was her … girlfriend maybe, and she could have as many friends as she wanted too, whether one of those was Gabi’s brother or not.

  Now that Gabi was taking out that hurt and examining it, she could admit the root of it. They were friends, and had somehow become friends despite her, without her, even though she was the thing that linked them.

  “What’s wrong?” Joy asked, shutting the kitchen door for privacy.

  “Nothing.” Gabi tried to pull back that happiness from outside, wrap it around herself like a blanket to keep out the cold of irrational hurts.

  “Gabi.” Joy crossed the room to where Gabi leant against the counter. She didn’t hesitate to reach for Gabi, to touch her face, which quieted a worry that she regretted the kiss, the hug, and all the feelings that had come with them. “Tell me.”

  “I just … didn’t expect you and Peregrine to be so friendly. I realised I missed a lot. While I was unconscious.” She tilted her face into Joy’s hand. “I selfishly want you to myself. And I’m being stupid and uncalled for.”

  “You’re not being stupid and uncalled for.”

  Gabi raised an eyebrow. “Sure you’re not seeing through rose-tinted vision?”

  Joy shrugged, dropped her hand to Gabi’s waist. She looked unsure about its placement but didn’t remove it. Gabi’s stomach danced again. “That’s always a danger,” Joy admitted. “But it’s okay. As long as you don’t expect me to give up all my friends and become dependent on you.”

  Outrage flared in Gabi. “No.”

  “Didn’t think so. See? Not uncalled for at all.”

  Gabi sighed, wanting Joy’s palm back against her cheek. “What’s wrong, Joy? Why did you run away?”

  As if reminded of it, as if the reason not to touch had slipped he
r mind, Joy withdrew her hand from Gabi’s waist. Joy looked at a point on Gabi’s chest, curling her hands into fists. “Because I shouldn’t be touching anyone, especially not you. You’re my—you’re mine, and I should be looking after you, not making you unsafe. And … my hands … it might not just be witches I drain power from. It might be elves as well, and I can’t risk that with you. I won’t hurt you, Gabriella, I won’t…” Her voice became quieter as Gabi drew her closer, kissing the top of her head.

  Gabi did not plan to let Joy go for a considerable amount of time. An hour. Maybe a week. Or the rest of her life, just to be sure. “That’s easy to fix,” Gabi said gently. Joy stilled. “If you’re scared your touch will hurt me, you can wear gloves.”

  “What if it works even though them?” But there was hope moving through her eyes, even if she wouldn’t let it into her voice.

  “Then we’ll find a way to deal with that too.”

  “We?”

  Gabi raised an eyebrow. “Did you expect it to be another way? You were right. I am yours. And I’m not going anywhere. Not because of this, not because of anything else that happens or whatever we learn about your power.” She looked Joy in the eye. “I’m not letting you go. Not after everything.”

  Joy tucked her hands into the pockets of Peregrine’s coat—Gabi assumed—but she leant closer to Gabi, not drawing away. “What if I do something … monstrous?”

  Gabi sighed, her breath ruffling pink strands. “People do monstrous things every day, but that doesn’t make them monsters themselves. That makes them people. Even if you did do something, it wouldn’t change this.” She kissed the top of Joy’s head to demonstrate what she meant by this.

  “Are you sure?”

  “I’ve never been surer.”

  “More sure,” Joy corrected, smiling against Gabi’s shoulder.

  “Don’t be rude, Joy,” Gabi chided. “That’s my job.”

  Joy laughed and held Gabi tighter.

  Joy

  Gabi had left, once, to give her keys to Gus and tell him he might as well go back to Law House—which he and Maisie were apparently staying in—because she wouldn’t be going home for a while. When Joy told her to stay, Gabi had headed for the sofa like last time but, gathering all her courage, Joy had caught her hand and Gabi had nodded, answering the unspoken question in her eyes.