Easy Magic (Boudreaux #5)

There’s also been no movement upstairs, so I take a break, fetch a fresh bottle of water, and go upstairs to check on Mal.

She’s kicked all of the covers onto the floor, and she’s sweaty again. Her damp hair clings to her forehead and face, which is scrunched up as if she’s in pain.

“Shh.” I sit next to her and press my cool hands to her forehead, then hurry into the bathroom to get a clean, cool cloth to wipe her face off. Her face immediately relaxes and she sighs in relief.

“Thank you,” she whispers without opening her eyes. “I missed you, Grandmamma.”

She’s dreaming. What in the hell is wrong with her? Does she have a virus? Should I take her to the doctor?

Despite the sweat, she doesn’t seem to have a fever. I manage to barely wake her, enough to get her to take some sips of the cold water and switch her pillow, and then she falls back onto the clean pillow with a sigh.

I leave the room, and pull my phone out to call my mother—who else am I supposed to call?—when there’s a knock on the door.

“Hi, Lena,” I say when I open the door.

“Well, hello,” she says in surprise. “I didn’t realize you were here.”

“I came by this morning after I’d been to the shop and Shelly said Mal had called out sick.”

“She texted me to tell me,” Lena says as she walks inside and looks up the stairs toward Mal’s room. “Is she still sleeping?”

“Yeah, but I’ve never seen anything like—”

Suddenly Lena’s eyes go wide with concern and she sprints toward the stairs. “Oh my God.”

“What’s wrong?” I run behind her and we both come to an abrupt halt at the doorway. Mal is writhing on the bed, as if she’s in pain. She’s making high-pitched mewling sounds, and crying, “Stop. Please stop!”

“It’s okay,” Lena says and takes her hand, then falls to her knees. “We didn’t know this would happen.”

“What is happening?”

Lena looks up with sad eyes. “Mallory is a powerful empath and medium. Most people think a séance is a game, but for a powerful psychic, it’s not a game at all. It’s why she took me with her, so I could be her anchor.

“There wasn’t anything dangerous there,” she says, but then frowns, as if she’s remembering something, but she keeps talking. “She did great, talking to the dead, and relaying the messages to the girls. But it takes so much out of her, and not only is she exhausted, but she’ll dream about those spirits, and experience things they experienced in life.”

“You’re kidding.”

“This isn’t fucking funny,” she replies, her eyes hot now.

“No, it isn’t.” Mal’s head is still thrashing back and forth, so I reach down and brush my knuckles down her cheek. She immediately settles down, letting out a soft sigh.

“Well.” Lena’s watching me, blinking rapidly.

“What?”

“Nothing. She should be okay by tomorrow. We didn’t know how much it would affect her because she hasn’t done anything like that since she was a kid. But now she knows, and she’ll be well rested by the morning.”

“What should I do for her?”

“Just what you’re doing,” she says with a smile and stands to leave the room. “It looks like she’s in good hands.”

“I don’t like these nightmares,” I reply as I follow Lena down the stairs.

“I’m sure they’re not fun for her either. But they won’t last. Thanks for staying with her.”

“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

She waves, and then she’s gone, and I can’t help myself from climbing the stairs again to watch Mallory sleep.

Her breathing is soft and even now, and she’s sleeping peacefully, so I run downstairs to fetch the laptop and my phone. I’m going to work in Mallory’s room for the rest of the evening. Her nightmares are scaring me.

When I return to her room, she’s rolled over to her side and kicked one leg out of the covers, showing me her perfectly round ass, barely covered by red cotton. I lean on the doorjamb, watching her. I want to kiss her there.

I want to kiss her everywhere.

But even more than that, I want to protect her, and that’s surprising to me. I am a protector, always looking out for my siblings and my mother, but I didn’t know that I could feel so deeply for someone that I’ve only just met.

Yet, the thought of anything happening to her makes my heart jump in fear. She’s come to mean a lot to me in just a few short weeks. She makes me happy.

She makes me happy.

When was the last time I could say that? When was the last time something or someone besides work and my family fulfilled me in any way?

I don’t remember.

Mallory whimpers, throwing herself onto her back again, struggling to grab onto something.

I cross to her, put my electronics aside, and climb onto the bed next to her so I can brush her hair off of her face, then take her hand in mine and kiss her knuckles.

“It’s okay, baby.”

She immediately calms, falling back into a dreamless sleep, and I’m reminded of what she said the other day. She can’t read me, and when I touch her, she calms down.

Well, that certainly seems to be true right now.

I literally calm her. What an honor that is.

I kiss her temple and whisper, “I’m right here, Mallory. There’s no need to be afraid. Just sleep.”

And with her hand still in mine, I open my laptop and struggle through one-handed typing. The emails may take longer to compose, but Mallory is at peace this way, so there’s no way I’m letting her go.

I don’t ever want to let her go.

After an hour, and only three emails, I close the computer and set it aside, then release her hand so I can use the restroom and order some food. When I return, Mallory is still sleeping peacefully, just where I left her.

I hope the nightmares are gone for a long, long while.





Chapter Nine


Mallory

I’m thirsty, and I have to pee, right now.

I throw the covers aside, and without opening my eyes more than slits, walk into the bathroom and sit on the toilet.

When I’m done, I wash my hands and ladle some water from the tap into my mouth, dry off, and march back to bed.

And see Beau, sitting on the bed, watching me with an amused smile.

I stop short and stare at him for several seconds.

“Am I still dreaming?”

“If you are, I am too,” he says. “How are you?”

“Thirsty,” I reply and climb back into bed, frowning as I realize what I’m wearing. “I don’t remember putting this on.”

“That’s because you were conked out when I put it on you.”

I sigh and don’t argue at all when he urges me to lay my head on his leg. He pushes his fingers through my hair, and I smile, remembering the dreams I had of him.

At least, I think they were dreams.

“Did you come to the door today?” I ask.

“Yes.”

“And were you here, saying nice things and sweeping my hair off of my face?”

“That was also me,” he replies.

“And Lena was here too.”

“Yes.”

“I thought I’d dreamed it all. What time is it?”

“It’s about midnight.”