The Unfortunate Side Effects of Heartbreak and Magic(42)
His words echoed through Sadie, and she leaned into them. Looking straight ahead, her eyes were on level with his chest. They trailed up and caught on the column of his neck. Further up, the strong line of his jaw. She didn’t have to look at his eyes to know he was staring at her lips. She felt it. Felt the burning glance seared there until she finally connected their gazes. He took a ragged breath. They weren’t even touching, and she could still feel him. The ghost of him pressed against her. Every line matching up. Fitting perfectly. And she knew he remembered it too. Could tell by the way his eyes darkened, the pulse in his throat hammering erratically.
He was going to kiss her. Every warning sign that had been blaring in her head like sirens went quiet. He smelled the same, woodsy and bright, and she wanted to bury her nose in his neck, but he didn’t move. His hands curled into fists at his sides, and every line in his body went taut. He wanted it—she knew he did. But he was holding back.
“Jake,” she whispered.
“I’m sorry,” he said suddenly, taking a step back. “There’s something about this kitchen. It …” he shook his head as though trying to clear it. His eyes were dreamy as he looked at Sadie. Like she was a promise. Water in the desert he longed to quench his thirst with. But he didn’t come closer. “I know you wanted time. And space. I’ll go.” But he waited a moment before turning. His eyes begged her to tell him not to.
The words formed themselves in her mouth, but her lips wouldn’t open. With the space between them, her brain started working again. She had gotten comfortable. And being comfortable with Jake meant her guard would be down. She knew where that would get her. Straight into heartbreak number three. Gigi was worth more than her temporary happiness. Family over everything. That’s what it came down to.
She finished the chocolate pecan pies, making sure that none of her tears fell in with the Karo syrup.
The pie was barely in the oven when a lancing pain burned through her chest, as though an invisible hand were squeezing her heart. She gasped for breath and coughed a moment later when the pain vanished. When she could breathe again, the smell of smoke had her running out to the garden.
She shuddered as, before her eyes, all of the plants along the edge of the fence shriveled and died.
They were nearly charred in their blackness, with a sticky, tar-like substance clinging to some of the remnants. A pungent aroma painted itself across her skin, her eyes watering. The ruin stopped just past the fence line, at the thin, towering stalks of dill, planted for the express purpose of keeping out malevolent magic. But they’d sacrificed themselves in the process.
Years ago, Sadie had laughed when Gigi instructed her to plant the herb in abundance. After all, what kind of garden needed that much protection? But as they had planted under the soft, deep light of a Flower Moon, Gigi’s eyes had continually flitted over her shoulder, past the gate, to the stars. She’d crushed a moon blossom under her left heel before picking all the herbs for a protection talisman.
“What is it?” Sadie had asked.
“This work,” Gigi said in a low rumble, “it’s not without its blood, its wounds, its ghosts. Even though it’s meant to help, magic makes enemies. Remember that when someone knocks on the back door asking for you to fix some damned thing of theirs. Your decisions will leave you with a past to make you proud or a future that has too much risk to measure. Make sure you know which one you want.”
Sadie had scoffed at the time, but the more she tried to help fix the broken things, the more she wondered if she was meddling in places she oughtn’t. There always seemed to be an unseen consequence: the heather refused to grow back for weeks; certain animals wouldn’t come near her without hissing or growling; fires refused to light for her until she bathed her hands in goat’s milk and lavender to purify herself; and sometimes, a viscous scent trailed after her that smelled gray as ashen sorrow.
What kind of blood was on her hands? What sort of ghosts were following her into her future?
She got to her knees and with heavy arms began to rake the detritus into a pile with her hands, her nails instantly turning a sickly black. As she moved across the ground, the first tingling of fear started to trickle through her, her body growing dense with dread.
She could feel a pair of eyes watching her, slippery as eel skin and just as slimy.
With slow movements, she looked up as something caught her eye beyond the fence line. In the dense thicket of trees, she saw a figure looming.
Sadie had seen ghosts before, and this wasn’t one. A spirit, maybe. Someone with unfinished business or a grudge to settle.
The longer it stood there without moving, the more her chest tightened, until she could barely breathe. Was this the thing that had tried to wreck her garden?
At the thought, her blood turned hot, fire chasing away the ice, until her fingertips were vibrating with the chaos swirling in her breast. With steel mettle, she picked up a handful of dirt and watched as her anger lit the edges, flames licking across her palm until it burned in her hand and the ash took to the wind like the vengeful light of dying stars. But before the ashes could reach the figure, it vanished without a trace.
Something, or someone, was trying to get in. Without the dill, the garden needed a new defense. Sadie spent the next hour raking the burned foliage, removing every last vestige. She couldn’t let Gigi see this. Couldn’t add another worry to her plate. Sprinkling the dirt with ground asafetida root and soil from the four corners of the garden, she then burned the whole lot. The smoke was as pungent as bad dreams and bitterness.