Weave the Dark Weave the Light Page 2

  A breeze teased the edges of Jonathan’s hair, and he was as still and heavy as the hours before dawn. Ari held their breath.

  Finally, Jonathan’s lips curled up. “Take your taste,” he murmured. “I’ll consider your price.”

  They pressed their lips to Jonathan’s neck, licking the skin there, and tasted mint and peril.

  In the next moment, Jonathan closed his gloved hand around Ari’s throat. Not hard, and not for long. Then he was walking around the silent, yawing fountain. “Enjoy the rest of your evening, Ari.”

  They could’ve followed, but heat rooted Ari to the ground. They watched Jonathan, who wasn’t human at all, climb a set of stairs, walk past the Christmas tree, and across the moonlit lawn until he vanished.

  Even then, Jonathan burned bright in Ari’s mind and soul. They stood for a time, then collected their skate bag and trudged from the park, full of energy, lust, and trepidation.

  It was a very long bus ride home.

  2

  Morning came way the fuck too early, pulling Ari from dreams of lips, light, and thrusting. Their phone chirped with birdsongs and soft music, and it took three tries to grab the damn thing and shut it off. They stared at slivers of morning stretched across the ceiling, still achingly hard, their heart beating against their ribs and the phantom taste of Jonathan lingering in their mouth.

  What remained of the dream drifted away faster than they could pull it back. Only the hollow ache in their soul, the memory of Jonathan, and their stiff dick remained. They’d never been good at lucid dreaming nor at remembering their dreams.

  “There’s too much fire in you,” Chole had said. She wove air and earth and practically lived in her dreams. The spells she’d given Ari hadn’t helped. Strange that their inability would stem from fire, since Matty wove fire, but he’d never had issues remembering his dreams. None of their circle did, but Ari.

  Another reminder of how, even in the middle of their circle, they were alone. “I want to belong,” they’d told Theo before Samhain, when they’d both been working on their spells.

  Theo had peered back if they’d grown three heads. “But you do.”

  They’d not mentioned that again, to anyone.

  Last night, they’d tasted a star.

  Fuck. Ari struggled out of their heavy nest of blankets. They still hummed with the energy they’d sipped from Jonathan, even after casting last night. Scattered about were sigils drawn on pages and crystals holding fire and light. Still, Ari’s blood burned and sparked, and Jonathan’s strange blue eyes, pale hair, and golden skin lingered in their thoughts. His scent clung to their nostrils.

  Weave me a spell.

  Wasn’t so simple. When they’d returned home, they’d lit incense, cleared the space, and focused on setting down spell after spell while Jonathan’s element was fresh inside them. Protection. Empowerment. One for sparking creativity. Even a love potion. Everything had turned flat, as spells had before. Yes, there was energy in the sigils and crystals but not intent, not power. The spells would never work as they should. Ari’d have to bleed the magic out of them later.

  They had no idea what Jonathan wanted. Hell, they weren’t sure what they wanted.

  A connection. Understanding.

  Ari shook away those thoughts. Sex and control were ideas they could wrap their mind around. Lust was an old friend. Everything else sounded perilously close to something they had no framework for, no way to navigate.

  Didn’t help that they’d tripped over Theo’s black sneakers and Bess’s purple heels last night, and now dreaded leaving their room. Ari liked Bess a lot—she’d encouraged needed grounding in their circle. Bess had focused the group and brought order.

  They chafed at order, though. Some structure was fine, but on their own terms, not enforced by others. Bess tended to mother Ari, even though they were all about the same age and had been studying magic for similar amounts of time.

  Ari darted into the bathroom and showered, then dove back into their room to change, hoping they’d escape before either Bess or Theo woke up. No such luck. Bess lingered in the bedroom doorway, wrapped in a robe, her long braids stark black lines against red silk.

  Of course she noticed Jonathan’s scarf in Ari’s hand, shimmering like starlight even as morning sun streamed through the hallway window.

  “Where’d you get that, baby doll?” Her gaze flicked from the scarf and pinned Ari with a look.

  “Not your baby doll,” Ari drawled before heading to the living room. “And a guy gave it to me last night.”

  “That’s no ordinary scarf, love.” Bess followed.

  “No shit.” Ari drew the scarf around their neck and pulled on their coat. They let the love go. It was better than doll any day.

  Bess planted a hand on her hip. “So, what did you give this guy in return for that, hmm?” The way her tone changed, Ari knew she was asking: who did you fuck for that scarf?

  Ari laughed. Yeah, they wanted Jonathan, wanted to push him down and have their every way with him. But sex for a scarf, even one wrapped in magic? Please.

  Not on the first night, anyway.

  “I gave him a piece of citrine.” They paused. “And the promise of a spell.” They’d started a dance with Jonathan that Ari didn’t understand, but felt the rhythm nonetheless.

  Bess stepped closer. “Oh, Ari.” There was worry in her voice. Honest, actual worry. “What kind of spell?”

  “Look, I gotta get to work. I don’t have time to play twenty questions.” Maybe they were as reckless as Jonathan said.

  “What, spell, what?” Theo echoed sleepily as he stepped into the living room. His eyes locked onto Ari, and he straightened, all weariness vanishing. “Whoa, Ari.” Theo’s brown eyes were wide and fearful. “That’s not fire in you. What the fuck?”

  That was a drawback to living with Theo—he was an earth witch who could work water as well, but unlike Ari, Theo saw more than just his own elements—he saw them all, including Jonathan’s, it seemed. Definitely time to leave. “It’s nothing. It’s fine. I’m fine. I’m gonna be late.” Ari grabbed their backpack and ran out of the apartment.

  They took the stairs rather than wait for the elevator. They couldn’t handle the look in Theo’s eyes, or the one in Bess’s.

  They both cared about Ari—that was mutual—but Ari didn’t know if the family thing worked. They’d never be able to convince their circle that Jonathan wasn’t dangerous, especially since Jonathan was terrifying. Might as well be a demon, but he wasn’t. He was a deep part of existence, an ancient spark of energy.

  Weave me a spell.

  Why would a star need a witch’s spell? And how the hell was Ari going to create one when they didn’t know what Jonathan needed?

  Despite the mention of love spells, they were sure romance wasn’t what Jonathan wanted. And besides, Ari didn’t love easily. Sex was fun and uncomplicated. Friendships were foundational. Romantic love was…messy. Ari had enough chaos in their life. Sex, though…that might be a singular focus they needed in order to weave magic. Granted, with their kinks, that particular avenue involved tying Jonathan up, and they suspected the answer to the price they’d set would be no.

  Ari slung their bag onto their back. The walk and wait at the bus stop wasn’t long, and no one seemed to notice anything more odd about Ari than normal. They were wearing black tights and a long navy skirt, a crisp white button-down, and a brilliant red bow tie that peeked from their coat. Combat boots rounded out the outfit. There might be snow later, and no way were they risking good shoes to crap weather. Besides, they liked the boots—all that black leather.

  Squirrel Hill was pretty laid-back, but they’d probably get some looks later in the commute, especially since they’d skipped shaving. Whatever. They knew who they were.

  When the bus came, Ari snagged a window seat.

  Businesses, houses, and streets blurred past. Ari pulled Jonathan’s scarf tighter around their neck, catching the faint smell of him—peppermint and
smoke. Impossible. Still, Ari buried their nose in the fabric.

  They didn’t pay attention to the other passengers until someone sat next to them and a rush of cold fire wrapped around their limbs. Ari whipped their gaze from the window and found Jonathan’s razor smile. “Hello, Ari.”

  “How—” Ari snapped their mouth shut and swallowed. Not the smartest question. They had Jonathan’s scarf and he had Ari’s citrine. “I have work today.”

  Without his hat, his hair was silver-gray. His skin was warm, in tone and touch, when he patted Ari’s thigh with an ungloved hand. “I know. But you’ve been in my thoughts and in my head, and I was curious to see you.”

  “Curious to see me,” Ari repeated. They drank in the sight of Jonathan and the warmth of his body. “You could’ve gotten my number, you know. Texted. Asked me out for coffee.”

  Jonathan—the fucking elemental star—looked at his hands. “Yes. But your cell number’s not a piece of you.” He drew the citrine from his coat pocket and turned it over in his fingers. “This is.”

  Ari curled their hands into the scarf, wishing they were curled in Jonathan’s hair. “But you can’t use that to ask me out for coffee.”

  Jonathan focused entirely on Ari. “It’s not coffee I want.”

  Desire ripped through Ari. They grasped the scarf, the licks of element coming off of Jonathan, and pulled both close to themself.

  Jonathan’s eyes flickered, as if in pleasure. “Maybe you are dangerous, little witch.”

  “Oh, I am.” Sitting next to Jonathan chased away the worries and the doubts of the morning. This felt right. They’d ponder why later. “There’s a price for more.” Despite being wicked and honed, Ari had also been hot and sharp most of their life.

  “So you’ve named.” Thoughtfulness in the set of his mouth. “Control is a heady thing, and I’m your equal, Ari.”

  Equal. Ari turned that unfathomable piece of knowledge over in their head, and wanted to dispute it, but Jonathan spoke it as fact. “Wouldn’t be all the time,” they said. “Just—in certain situations.”

  A slow nod. “Not over coffee, I expect.”

  Ari laughed. Couldn’t help it. They liked Jonathan, in that moment. Trepidation clung to Ari—Jonathan wasn’t human and he wore power like a second skin—but he was also intriguing and smiled like sunlight.

  “I’ll pay your price,” he said, just like that.

  Ari exhaled, and yes, control took their mind into the clouds. There were so many ways this could go wrong. They leaned close to his beautiful face and whispered, “My stop is coming up, so here’s what’s going to happen.” They pressed a hand over the citrine, palm touching Jonathan’s where it could. “You’re going to find me after work, treat me to a lovely dinner like the gentleman you are; then I’m going to take you home, tie you up, and fuck you like the monster I am.”

  Jonathan’s feral smile returned, and he moved his lips close to Ari’s. “Reckless.”

  “You can say no.” They wanted to lean in and kiss him, but their stop was next.

  “You know I won’t,” Jonathan said. “Your offer is interesting.”

  Ari couldn’t help a grin of their own. They reached back and hit the strip to signal the bus stop. “It’s not an offer, Jonathan.”

  “Ah.” If anything, his smile deepened.

  They bumped his legs. “Time for me to go.”

  He nodded and tucked the citrine back in his pocket before standing. Ari slid into the aisle, but not before Jonathan brushed a hand down Ari’s back. “I want my spell, though.”

  “You’ll get it. I don’t break promises.” They caught Jonathan’s hand and squeezed. “Any of them.” They let go and headed to the front of the bus. Didn’t look back when they stepped off. Jonathan might be there—or might not. They had no idea how this elemental existed in the world, except that, somehow, Jonathan was real and solid to Ari.

  So, they were going to do exactly what they said they would. Maybe more time with Jonathan would unlock the spell he was so desperate for Ari to weave.

  3

  Just after five, Ari walked out of the office. They hadn’t expected Jonathan to be waiting in the lobby. Same peacoat, same pale hair, golden skin, and tantalizing smile. He turned the citrine over in his hand, and his bright blue eyes burned straight through Ari.

  The pack of coworkers they’d left with broke apart, with choruses of “Good night” and “See you Monday.” Ari murmured some kind of response, their being entirely focused on Jonathan.

  “Ari.” He said their name like a prayer, as if there was no one else in the lobby. He held out his arm, as if they were on a date. “Shall we?”

  “This isn’t a romance, Jonathan.” Still, they took his arm.

  “Oh, I’m aware.” Together they pushed through the doors into the evening.

  “What do you think this is?”

  Jonathan guided them through the streets of Pittsburgh, the air blustery, dry, and harsh, hinting at the winter to come. “A beginning.”

  They shook their head. That had been last night. They had prices and promises between them. “We’ve already started.”

  That sharp smile again. “A continuation, then. A discovery.” He paused at the door to Meat & Potatoes. “Does this qualify as a lovely dinner?”

  Very much so. Ari’d managed to eat at the small restaurant once before, but that was only because there’d been an opening at the bar. “If they can seat us.”

  They stood under the portico of Theater Square, out of the lash of wind that cut down Penn Avenue. “Oh, we have a reservation.” And fuck if Jonathan’s grin didn’t turn Ari inside out with the need to kiss him into submission. He propped opened the door for Ari.

  They entered and didn’t ask how Jonathan had managed a near-impossible feat on a morning’s notice. A discovery, indeed. There was so much Ari wanted to understand. So much they feared to ask, both of Jonathan and for themself.

  Jonathan followed, and as he’d assured, there was a reservation for two under his name. They settled into their table.

  Ari pulled a little of Jonathan’s element and wove it into a simple spell, lessening the chance of being overheard. Maybe it was possessive of them, but they didn’t want to share this night with anyone else. Ari skimmed the menu, but their mind kept wandering to unasked questions. “Do you exist in this world?”

  Jonathan stilled, the menu motionless in his hands. “We’re here, Ari. Right now. This isn’t a dream.”

  Of course it wasn’t a dream. “That’s not what I’m asking.” Ari tore their gaze from Jonathan and read the menu again. “When I’m not here, what do you do? Where do you go?”

  Jonathan laid his menu down. “Ah. I understand. Yes, I exist in this world and time. When I’m not with you, I’m still here. People see me.” He folded his hands on top of the menu and curved his mouth into a smile. “As to what I do, I own a used bookstore.”

  “Isn’t that a little cliché?”

  Ari was growing fond of Jonathan’s laugh. “Perhaps, but people like me tend to gravitate toward antique items. Or collections. Or”—he waved a hand—“oddities.”

  Information twined in Ari’s skull. “Are you telling me bookstores and antique shops are all run by magical beings?”

  “Not all, surely.” His smile didn’t diminish.

  “I—”

  Before they could get their question out, the waiter arrived to take their order. Ari had no idea what they wanted, but one good thing about this place was that they couldn’t go wrong with anything on the menu. Ari stabbed at a random dish and rattled the name off.

  “I’ll have the same.” Jonathan handed his menu over, then tilted his head. “Wine?”

  “Not tonight.” They wanted a clear head, especially for later. “Water is fine for us.”

  The waiter took the menus, then retreated, leaving Ari caught by the intense desire to put the proud, powerful man before them on his knees. “Why me?”

  “You called me, Ari. Not the
other way around.”

  “You found me at the rink.”

  “You were looking for me.”

  “I was looking—” They’d been looking for passion. For the spark that had been missing from their life. Searching to understand their magic, for a sense of belonging. “But you’ve been in Pittsburgh for years, I suspect.”

  “Yes.” He dropped his hands to his lap. “As have you.”

  “Since college.” They’d gotten their degree, then stayed, even though they could have found a job elsewhere. Something about this town, its hills, rivers, and bridges had wormed its way into Ari’s soul. “I felt compelled to stay.”

  “Life is strange and magical.”

  Every amazing moment in Ari’s life had been. Even meeting Theo and Bess. Some moments had been fraught. Some dangerous. But always infused with magic and power. “What do you want with me?”

  Jonathan lowered his gaze, his smile demure. If he’d planned to reply, it was lost as two glasses filled with water were set in front of them.

  There was attraction, one neither of them could deny or ignore. Hell, Jonathan’s element practically wrapped itself around Ari unbidden. They pulled and wove it in a way they’d never been able to with fire. Maybe this was what being a strong witch was like, this ability to tap into energy and use it—make it part of themself.

  They pondered while they waited for their meal, and then while reveling in the taste of their flat iron steak. The lull that fell between them wasn’t uncomfortable, especially not when Ari shifted to nudge their leg against Jonathan’s.

  “I’m going to answer your question with one of my own,” Jonathan said. “Why do you want me, Ari?”

  So many reasons. The most obvious being simple lust for a stunningly beautiful person. The need to tame someone powerful. However, neither of those hit the core of the truth. “Because I want to understand what you are.” Ari set down their fork. “Will you answer my original question?”

  He sobered into a seriousness that twisted Ari’s bones and set every part of them alight. “What I want with you is you. Because you hunt answers, Ari Zydik. Beyond the need to control, aside from the myriad ways our bodies could come together. You seek more from me alongside those, and that’s rare. That’s a taste I want.”