Secrets And Magic Ch 03

It has been a while hasn't it? I'll save all of my explanations and simply say: Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy this (albeit late) update! Please remember to vote and, as usual, all comments [the good, the bad, and the ugly] are very much appreciated. :-)

Secrets and Magic: Chapter 3 — Problems and Solutions

Jack hissed in discomfort as beads of sweat formed on her brow. She reached up with her free hand to wipe it off as her eyes closed even tighter. She had to focus. She had to master the energy within her. Her mind filled with the angry voices of her parents and she flinched in memory of their harsh words. She wasn't supposed to be here; she wasn't supposed to learn. Her Magic shifted suddenly, violently, sending her heart into overdrive. A line of fear danced down her spine making her clutch the small vial firmly. Hadn't they warned her? Hadn't they told her it was dangerous? Jack swallowed hard, trying desperately to stay afloat. Just as she thought she was safe another staggering shift sent white hot pain exploding behind her eyes. Her voice cried out in agony as she swayed on her feet. She couldn't... She couldn't control it. It was too much. This time her mother and father's faces swam before her, their looks of disapproval burning through her. This was wrong! The chaotic swirl of power expanded, threatening to swallow her up if she didn't act. Strings of Magic unfurled and wrapped around her, choking her. She couldn't breathe. Jack opened her mouth to suck in air, but it wasn't enough. The fragile foothold she clawed at disintegrated like so many ashes.

The world dropped away and she fell.

Down and down she went, the source of it all still fixed in her hand. Her Magic pushed at her again and intensified the already impossible pain. Jack released a strangled response and could do nothing as the darkness raced past her. It felt like it went on forever until miraculously it ceased. Something strong and calm surrounded her and slowly pulled her up. The pain gradually receded, but was replaced immediately by fatigue. She made a sound, but the comforting presence bade her quiet. In fact, somehow, everything had gone silent. Her Magic, chaotic and devastating, was now still. Higher and higher she was lifted until she saw the edge of consciousness. Struggling to open her eyes, Jack saw her grandmother.

"You should rest," the kind words accompanied a squeeze of her hand and Jack realized they were joined.

The taste of failure welled up and swam in her throat, "I-I'm sorry." Jack sniffled as a tear ran down her face, "I couldn't do it."

Her grandmother shook her head sadly and wiped the lone droplet away, "If only I had known sooner." She looked at Jack before an encouraging smile touched her lips, "All we can do is practice... and hope."

Jack nodded her head not entirely convinced, but was too drained to do much of anything else. They could try again, but right now she needed sleep.

*_*_*

So she had lied.

Jack was no stranger to Magic. A childhood of being forced to ignore her abilities left her torn and unable to connect to her power by the time she began instruction with her grandmother. This conflict was the foundation of her inability to control the unpredictable energy within her. Each time she had tried for dominance it was the same thing: debilitating pain and inescapable fatigue. What was it her grandmother used to say?

"You'll never advance until you let go."

Thus far it seemed easier said than done. The only successful way she'd ever used her Magic was with the direct aid of her gran. During those times everything felt the way it should be; her power thrived and flowed smoothly, teasing her with the possibility of one day being able to experience it on her own.

She had eventually given up. The barrier was too great to overcome and the constant failure, instead of building her determination, left a bitter taste in her mouth. All she had to show for her efforts was the little she'd managed to learn and the item tucked safely on the top shelf of her closet. Jack sighed. It was funny how things turned out. As an adult, she was now ready to commit, but there was no one to help her. Her grandmother had passed away three years ago. She was stuck.

But she could still help. Maybe.

After going over everything she'd learned in the past few days, it was obvious conventional physical therapy was not going to help Aden. Though he wouldn't talk about it, she now knew his injury was Magic-related. For the second time her eyes flicked to the closet where the little brown bag was hidden. The thought of using it, let alone touching it, made her grimace. She shuddered. It would be so easy to quit and pretend she had no idea how to help him, but even as she considered it, Jack knew it was something she could never do. A part of her wanted to see the look on his face when she healed him — provided the cream actually worked, it wasn't like she had ever tried it on anyone before. Aden might be attracted to her, but he still saw her as a nuisance. He was so arrogant and infuriatingly so. Yes, it would be satisfying to have him in her debt.

We'll see who the nuisance is.

Her skin tingled at the thought of him and the way his lips felt pressed to hers. Their kiss was amazing.

Maybe too amazing.

Jack closed her eyes and went over their conversation. She wasn't the least bit sorry for the things she said. He was rude and he

did

need to know she was not someone he could walk all over. The kiss had only made things worse and probably infinitely more awkward between them. She exhaled in a huff. Then there were his eyes, just remembering them made sent an arc of unease through her.

Jack climbed out of bed then gathered her things for a shower. It had been a few days, but the effects of the Paralyzing spell had finally worn off.

Thank goodness for that.

She stepped into the tub and turned a knob. The hot water felt good against her skin and did well to help loosen her muscles. Once finished, she wrapped an over-sized towel around her and padded back to her room. Everything would have been fine if Aden hadn't been waiting near the window when she walked in. Heat saturated her body and instinctively Jack held the towel tighter around her.

There were a few moments of silence as she stared at his back. She noticed his hair was again unbound and watched as back-to-back gusts of wind blew through the strands. Another minute of silence had Jack shifting on her feet then clearing her throat. Her eyes were glued to him as he slowly maneuvered his chair around.

"Merced says you are just about well." Aden's voice was quiet, but that didn't do justice to what he was feeling seeing her like this. His eyes dropped from her surprised face and focused on the hand squeezing the towel closed. Instantly he was hard and aching. To know it was the only thing separating her dripping wet body from his gaze was almost too much to handle. Their kiss was long over, but much to his annoyance, thoughts of it kept surfacing. How would he ever forget her taste? Or the way she had moaned into his mouth? His face immediately hardened as he mentally scolded himself. No. No. No. Nothing good could come from that. He had a life he needed to get back to, responsibilities to resume. Jack didn't figure anywhere in that equation.

Jack swallowed, thoroughly heated from his scrutiny. "Yes, I feel much better." She didn't intend for her voice to sound so husky and cringed when it reached her ears. God, what was wrong with her?

A bead of water caught Aden's gaze as it fell from her hair and onto her collarbone before disappearing between her breasts. His teeth gritted as he exerted control over his body and forced it not to react. What was it about this woman? None other ever had this kind of effect on him. Unlike his brother Adrian, Aden rarely chased down the company of women. Most approached him, and if he felt like it, he allowed something to happen. For the most part though, he preferred to stay on task. He was First Prince, Commander-in-Chief of the royal forces, and next in line for the throne. There were better and more important things than sniffing after skirt.

"We'll have our first session tomorrow then," his demeanor suddenly cold, "Enough time has been wasted."

Jack blinked, bristling slightly, "Fine. What time did you have in mind?"

"Early." He stared at her a few moments longer before wheeling himself toward the doorway. She had to move aside so he could exit. The need to tell him her secret welled up inside of her, but she clamped her mouth shut. She would wait. Plus, she wasn't sure if she really wanted to explain anything in her current state of dress.

Closing her door, Jack leaned against it and took a deep breath. There was no way she could respond like that every time she was around him. It had to be unhealthy. After composing herself she walked over to her bed and let her towel fall to the floor. She grasped the nearby bottle of lotion and began the routine of oiling her skin before pulling her clothes on. She decided to leave her hair down and grabbed a brush to run it through a few times; when it dried completely it would be a long mass of free flowing curls. She slid her feet into flip-flops, applied some light lip gloss then proceeded to head downstairs. Her stomach rumbled and she smiled. Merced could probably fix that.

Jack entered the kitchen and found Merced preparing lunch. She took her seat at the counter and watched him move around. It was still weird that he cooked, but whatever. What hadn't been weird since she arrived? He glanced at her before reaching into a cabinet, his silver eyes pleasant. She decided she genuinely liked him. He was rather quiet and thoughtful, but always nice.

Her face broke into a grin, "What are you making today?"

He pulled a French loaf from a bread box and replied, "Sandwiches."

Jack nodded as her stomach reminded her it was empty. "So how soon do you think they'll be ready?" She leaned forward to rest her chin in her hands.

Merced smirked at her and absently adjusted a bracelet, "Soon. Why do you ask?"

Jack tried to look innocent, "Oh no reason..."

They both laughed. Jack ran a hand through her hair as Merced continued his work. It had taken a few days, but he seemed more relaxed around her and definitely a little less formal - except when Aden was around. However, there was one thing bothering her since they met. Her eyes fixed on his wrists. Sometimes it seemed as if the bands caused him distress and other times he barely fidgeted with them.

"Merced..." She let her voice trail off.

"Yes?" He answered, focused on slicing thick pieces of bread.

"What's with those bracelets?" Jack watched him stop mid-slice before quickly resuming.

His expression met hers, "They are something I am required to wear during my time here." He fingered one then reached for the sandwich spread. Idly Jack noticed it was garlic-flavored. She loved garlic.

"C'mon Merced, you know what I'm asking. What are they and why do you have to wear them?"

He took a breath then answered, "We call them MEDs - Magical Energy Dampeners." He wrapped his fingers around one and slid it up his arm as far as it would go then let it drop back down to his wrist, "I am required to wear them because the people here are very sensitive to the forces of Magic. It disrupts them."

Jack's eyebrows rose with interest, "Disrupts them how?"

"Some mysterious discomfort," he stopped to think, "I believe you would describe it as 'someone walking over their grave'."

The corners of Jack's mouth turned up at his comparison before she went on, "But these MEDs have some of kind of negative effect on you, right?" She recalled the times he'd stopped to massage his wrists.

Merced looked at her closely, "You notice a lot Miss Devons."

"Jack," she promptly corrected him.

He smiled, "You notice a lot, Jack." His fingers deftly arranged slices of turkey on the bread as he continued, "When I wear these, they inhibit my Magic. And yes, sometimes the pressure is painful."

"Well that sucks," Jack wondered what would happen if he took them off around her. "But how come Aden doesn't wear them? I have been around him and haven't felt anything,"

Except for the intense need to crawl in bed with him.

"Because he-," there was a distinct pause before he continued, "is better trained to hide his abilities."

Jack looked at him suspiciously until he returned his attention to the sandwiches. "Interesting."

As he placed the second piece of bread on top of the last sandwich, Merced asked casually, "When do we discuss you and your Magic?"

Jack's eyes widened as they caught the silver of Merced's; he seemed pleased with catching her off guard. "H-how did you know?" One of the sandwiches was slid in front of her, but hunger was momentarily forgotten.

"I can sense it." He looked at her knowingly, "I felt it in you the moment we first met."

Jack swallowed and pulled at a piece of turkey, "Does Aden know?"

Merced was thoughtful for a second, "Not yet."

"Why haven't you told him?"

He only shrugged in response. Jack eyed him a moment then bit into her sandwich. After a beat of silence Merced spoke, "Your ability..." he frowned somewhat, "It is hindered. Why?"

"When I was a child my parents didn't want me to cultivate it, but my grandmother taught me in secret," She sighed and took a sip of the apple juice he placed in front of her, "By the time I began my lessons with her, my power had grown outside my capacity to control it."

Jack leaned her head back and fluffed her hair behind her shoulders, "I can only make creams and potions. My grandmother said it was natural for me to heal." She smirked more to herself than to him, "I guess that's why I'm a physical therapist."

There was an odd expression on Merced's face when she finished, but he quickly hid it. "Life has a way of placing us where we need to be." He gave her a meaningful look then picked up Aden's tray to deliver it to him, "If you are to help him then we should speak later."

*_*_*

Merced was certain he knew what she was. If he was right, and he undoubtedly was, then Miss Devons - Jack, he corrected himself – was no small discovery. Natural Healers were rare. He thought about this and about his prince and what it would mean if she were able to help him. Her Magic was strong, probably stronger than even she was aware of, but it was disjointed. Jack's inability to allow it to peacefully coexist within her would continue to be a barrier.

But maybe he could help her.

There was very little he could teach her in regards to the Life Arts, but he could train her to focus. He could help her attune. Her intentions were clear, but it was obvious she was going to need assistance. Jack was too inexperienced for whatever she had planned to work.

An amused look crossed his features. Prince Aden would be shocked and understandably angry at not being told immediately of Jack's abilities. But Merced was willing to risk it. Whether the prince liked it or not, Jack was going to be the answer to his problem. Though he wanted nothing more than to walk again and return home, Merced doubted he'd be able to do so without Jack. The connection he shared with her was brutally evident and too strong to ignore. This assignment was turning out to be far more interesting than he had hoped.

*_*_*

This time Zechariah was happy. The pilot proved to be a wealth of information.

So the great Prince Aden couldn't walk and was shuttled off to Earth to heal!

If the follower who'd volleyed the shot was still alive, Zechariah would have promoted him. Even more interesting was the fact that Aden had yet to be healed, that meant The Order was on the right track. The corners of his mouth turned up, it was good to see the fruits of his labor pay off. Dark Magic was not easily reversed. If practiced correctly, the effects of it could be permanent. With what they were doing, his thoughts drifted to the latest batch of prisoners, their Magic was about to go beyond anything the kingdom had ever seen. He absently toyed with a strand of hair...But what to do? He had Aden's location and obtaining a ship was no problem, but what about when he got there? Zechariah knew Aden wasn't alone; he had one of the Ca'lai with him. That would prove troublesome. However, a chance to strike when Aden was at his weakest was not one to pass up. He would simply gather his best followers and go on the offensive. If it were anyone else, Zechariah wouldn't bother getting his hands dirty, but this... this he was going to attend to personally.

With Aden dead, those who doubted his power before would be ready to fall in line. They would see firsthand the gifts provided by the darkness were not to be feared. If the exchange was right, there was no limit to the things one could accomplish. The royal family and their laws upon laws governing Magic would tumble. There would be a new era and he would be at the forefront. Turning from his favorite spot in front of the window, Zechariah shouted for Tomas. Within seconds the young man was in the archway leading into his quarters.

"Sir?" The youth stood there in anticipation of carrying out whatever Zechariah asked of him. He still had much to learn, but, among other things, it was his undying loyalty that made him a valuable asset.

Zechariah cocked his head to side and let his lifeless eyes roam over his servant. As usual something stirred in him when he met those wide blue eyes. Where he had grown cold and focused, Tomas had remained kind and rather shy. He was always eager to please Zechariah even if it meant doing the unspeakable – of which he had. The man was blind in his allegiance; this he had proven many times. He was also a puzzle; at once pleasant and deadly... pure yet murderous. Most of The Order found him unsettling – and for good reason, too. If asked, Tomas wouldn't hesitate to kill any one of them for Zechariah.

"Assemble a few of our best and prepare a ship. The time to act is now."

Tomas stepped further inside, his face alight with excitement, "Will I accompany you as well?"

Zechariah cut him a look, annoyed at the question, "No."

It was as if someone let the air out of his servant the way his shoulders slumped. "I see." Zechariah allowed him to turn and prepare to leave before stopping him.

He couldn't explain it, but in a tone rarely used the youth was beckoned toward him, "Tomas..." His servant walked to stand directly in front of him, his head not reaching past Zechariah's shoulders.

Probably unaware he was doing it, Tomas's fingers came up to touch the cheek recently healed from the burn mark. "Sir?" The faint trace of fear was hard to miss.

"Calm yourself, boy," the words were said quietly as Zechariah placed his hands on Tomas's shoulders, "I have no lessons to teach you today." Tomas visibly relaxed and Zechariah, against his will, was pleased. Blue eyes openly stared at him as delicate cheeks flushed. It was always like this between them. Zechariah's hands slid up to cup either side of his servant's face and he bent down until they were eye level.

"You are many things," Zechariah leaned in until their lips were almost touching, "but you are not ready for this." Tomas blinked, a protest immediately forming, but Zechariah silenced him with a kiss. Behind them, a slight force softly closed the door.

The young man gasped and leaned in to return the kiss, igniting Zechariah's growing arousal. He loved Tomas yet hated every second he did so. It was twisted and confusing and an impossible failing for someone like him. It was why he took pleasure in hurting Tomas... but also enjoyment in satisfying him. Zechariah slipped his tongue past his servant's lips and tasted his familiar flavor. He groaned as his cock hardened even more. He let his hands melt into Tomas's hair bringing him even closer until their chests were touching. Heat snaked between them as Zechariah continued his assault.