Chapter 6

T alahi Island nestled between Savannah and Tybee Island on the Atlantic Ocean and, according to a pine tree (a loblolly, whatever that is), who heard it from a lacebark elm, who was told by a queen palm, a six-foot-square patch of sandy soil existed where nothing grew and no animals dared tread.

That was how we found ourselves parking at a nearby Sharky Shake Shack, following directions from the air plant the queen palm left on the ground for Josie, with the request from the air plant that she place it on a new tree in a safe area where it could grow in peace away from its annoying siblings.

“Oh.” Josie slowed in front of Kierce and me, carrying on with the plant. “I see what you mean.”

From her perch on my shoulder, Badb cracked open a peanut she got from who knows where and rained husk down the front of my shirt. She offered me a piece of shell. Not a peanut, mind you, but still. I gave her a head scratch for effort. Minimal as it might have been.

A queasy sensation swamped my senses when I stepped from the pavement onto sand, and I clutched at Kierce’s arm as I drank in our surroundings. “Do you feel that?”

No tree. No bush. No flower.

The land was barren.

“Yes.” He gestured for me to stay back. “I’ll go first.”

That tweaked Badb’s tail feathers, and she shot off to follow him, but Josie was happy to wait with me.

“Hmm. True. Good point.” She picked a dead leaf off the plant. “The sun is much better over there.”

The spiky ball of green fronds rested on her open palm. Unmoving. Unspeaking. Just there .

I had often thought Josie had it easier than me when it came to our gifts. Anyone could see who she was talking to, so she didn’t stand out as more than an overenthusiastic plant mom. Meanwhile, I was always talking to thin air, throwing crazy vibes that earned me even crazier looks from anyone who caught me.

Thankfully, the few businesses had closed for the day, so there was no one around to see either way.

“Frankie.” Kierce met my gaze, and his was troubled. “Would you mind coming here?”

Stepping off the curb, I breathed through the roiling in my stomach. “Not at all.”

“That’s not a happy face.” Josie rocked forward to join us. “What did you find?”

“Stay there.” He threw his hand out toward her as he crouched. “There’s active death magic here.”

“Yikes.” She took a healthy step back, clutching the air plant. “We’ll wait over here then.”

Death magic was neither good nor bad. Like most magic, it simply existed. How it was manipulated, well, often that was the problem. For Kierce to be wary, he must have sensed darker powers at work.

“A divine tree was here.” He sifted the soil through his fingers, exposing hairlike roots shriveled from sun exposure. “The earth has been corrupted beyond my ability to sense more.”

“Corruption.” I squatted beside him. “Why does that not surprise me?”

“Ankou and his god aren’t inherently evil.”

“You could have fooled me.”

“Perhaps I ought to have said their powers, their divine spark, isn’t evil.”

“You would know better than me.”

Evil is as evil does.

Explaining her clientele, and their more unique requests, Vi relied on that phrase often. I wasn’t sure if it was meant to soothe her conscience or mine, but I never questioned Vi’s choices. She was a good person. I trusted her motives. If she helped someone who landed more firmly in the black than moral gray areas, she had her reasons. Ankou’s magic straight from the tap might hold myriad possibilities, but he had left his morals behind along with his humanity, if his treatment of Josie was a barometer for his past actions.

“We need to figure out who took it.” He shook loose grains from between his fingers. “And find them.”

“Would he have sent his acolytes to dispose of it?”

Its fruit would be evidence of what he had done to me, yes, but also dangerous to anyone who stumbled across it. Though, looking at it that way, he wouldn’t have given up the tree for its chaos potential alone.

For the tree to be gone, Ankou either had other plans for it, or someone else did.

Either choice would keep me up nights until we located and destroyed it.

With the amount of foot traffic this area must see on a daily basis, someone must have noticed the tree thief. I doubt anyone would report it, though. They would likely believe either the city or the county had decided to remove it. Maybe even one of the buildings’ tenants. Not that there were many.

A grocery store. A community center. A gas station.

“More than likely, yes.”

“Let me grab a sample for Vi.”

A blight could be the result of a curse, a spell, a charm or have any number of magical origins. Figure out what caused the problem, and we were one step closer to a solution. And identifying the culprit.

When I reached Josie, she fell in step with me, tracing a path back to the wagon and my bowler bag filled with supplies. Including empty vials for taking samples. I was digging out gloves when she finally hit her limit for keeping her mouth shut. Honestly, I was impressed she lasted a whole sixty seconds.

“Well?” She leaned over my shoulder, watching me gather my things. “Were my contacts right?”

“They sensed where the god tree was rooted, but it’s not there anymore.”

“As in death magic killed it?” She read my reaction. “Or as in someone dug it up and took it with them?”

“I’m not sure.” I shut the tailgate on the wagon and threw her the keys. “But we’re going to find out.”

Maybe Carter could pull some strings, discover if any of the shops had security cameras that might have recorded the theft. That would give us a date, time, and potential ID.

“The keys are a hint to stay put,” she told the plant. “She’s bossy like that.”

“You and your new friend can wait in the wagon or go get some ice cream,” I tossed over my shoulder. “I don’t want you anywhere near this until we contain it.”

While Josie and her plant buddy wandered off, debating the merits of various trees as potential homes, I returned to Kierce.

He took a vial from my hand and followed my example as I filled mine with sandy soil, leaving room for a piece or two of splintered root. We capped them at the same time, and he passed me his. I stored them in a small velvet pouch lined with nulling fabric enchanted by a local coven for just such occasions.

“You’re smiling.”

Turning away, I packed them in my bowler bag until I could send one to Vi. “Am I?”

Missing that I meant it as a rhetorical question, he said, “Yes.”

“You’re just so cool.” I did my best to conceal my blush. “I can’t help it. I only mean to think it, but my face says it anyway. I’m sorry if it’s making things awkward.”

To have someone interested in the same things as me, capable of the same magic as me, was a delight. I tested the opposites-attract theory with Harrow. I embraced magic. He despised it. And himself for what powers his heritage granted him. The push and pull between our views exhausted me at times, but I told myself he was worth it. Relationships are work, right? I hadn’t been afraid of investing in him.

But with Kierce…

He was kind. Adorably clueless. A vault of ancient knowledge. And he liked cemeteries.

That last one might not seem earth-shattering, but it appealed to the taphophile in me.

“I like when you think about me.”

“You must cruise through life with a grin then,” I joked, kind of. “What do we do next?”

Willing to let me off the hook, he planted his palms on the dirt. “Do you remember when I told you that we could draw strength from grave soil?”

Perking up, I leaned closer. “Yes.”

“This ground has been touched by death. That means we can consume its power.”

“Isn’t its power tainted?” I scrunched up my face. “Is chowing down on that healthy?”

“The blight is too weak to harm us. We’ll metabolize the residual magic and convert it to clean energy.”

“Then the blighted soil goes back to being regular dirt?”

“It will be cleansed, yes.” He hesitated, over the verbiage or the idea. “Would you like to try?”

Mirroring his position, I calmed my nerves. “I’m full of death-y energy, so what’s a little more?”

“You’ll only need this skill when you’re injured or have burned through your magic.”

“When?” I swallowed past a lump in my throat. “Not if ?”

Life since we met had been bumpy, sure, but I wasn’t normally attacked by gods and crazy people.

“Master this ability, and you won’t require Aretha’s assistance except in dire circumstances.”

Dollar signs flashed before my eyes when I recalled how much work she had put into keeping me alive in the last few weeks. She was worth every penny, but ouch. I could only hope having already died, I would cost less in the future.

“You should have led with that. I’m nothing if not cheap.” I bit my bottom lip. “I meant to say practical .”

More of that hesitance seeped out of him. “Can I make a confession?”

Wary of what he wanted off his chest, I still owed him the chance to unburden. “Sure.”

“I erased your debt with Harrow.”

“You…?” I wobbled back, landing on my butt. “You did what?”

“He paid Aretha for her services, but that debt never sat well with you.” He set his jaw. “Or with me.”

“I don’t…” I couldn’t get my tongue to work. “But he…?”

“I asked Aretha for an estimate, paid her, and she refunded Harrow.”

“Thank you, Kierce. Really. You didn’t have to do that.” There. Finally. I got the words out. “But I owe the money to you now, and it feels weird having debt between me and my—” don’t say birdfriend, don’t say birdfriend, don’t say birdfriend , “—boyfriend.”

A wave of dizziness swept through me at hearing the claim made out loud. Boyfriend. Kierce was my boyfriend. The actual Viduus was my actual boyfriend. I couldn’t tell if I was about to swoon or vomit.

“That’s why I convinced Pascal to source the cab for a 1976 Toyota Land Cruiser FJ40. He says the rest will be trickier, but he’s confident he and his brothers can have it built and running in a few months.” He looked pleased with himself, which proved how skilled Pascal was at convincing people to fund projects on his restoration bucket list. “I have an open tab at The Body Shop, as of yesterday, after Pascal won the auction, and you will charge me as a regular customer—parts and labor—until the debt is squared.”

“You don’t have to let us off the hook that easy.” I gripped his hand, certain my palm was sweaty. “We can afford to pay you back. You don’t have to commission a build you don’t need.”

“I want to learn how to drive and help with your duties, which means I need transportation.”

The permanence of him purchasing a vehicle, the promise it made that he wanted to stay here, with me, set velvet-winged moths free in my stomach. “You could buy a used one much cheaper.”

“Modern vehicles don’t appeal to me. Vintage ones don’t either, if I’m honest.” He tipped his head back. “I would prefer to purchase land enough for a horse or two, but I must adapt. I can’t stand with one foot in the past without hobbling my present.” He slid his gaze to mine. “And I want to be an asset to you.”

“You okay, Mary?” Josie called from a safe distance. “You’re not making yourself sick?”

From her perspective, I could see how it would look that way to her, but we hadn’t gotten started yet.

“Fine,” I yelled back, shaking Kierce’s admission off me. “Let’s handle this. We’ll talk cars later.”

“All right.” He resumed his position and waited for me to do the same. “Close your eyes and repeat after me. There’s a hymn for this, and you’ll want to memorize it.”

With a tight nod, I shut my eyes and opened myself to the power within me, preparing to listen.

Aside from the usual routine of seating spirits inside their loaners of choice, I hadn’t used the new powers I sensed at my fingertips. I had been too afraid. Kierce gave me the courage to push past the walls I had been erecting for myself. He gave me the confidence to trust in his voice as I picked up the hymn and sang softly with him.

Energy broke against me like ripples skating across the surface of a pond, and I dug my hands deeper.

Cold power teased the tips of my fingers, numbing them, creeping up my hand into my arm. As it seeped into my chest, spreading toward my heart, I almost caved to the fear rising in me. But as my teeth began to chatter, a burst of warmth ignited within my core, melting the chilly discomfort until pleasant heat hit me in a refreshing rush of energy my body interpreted as adrenaline.

Pounding filled my ears, and my eyes shot open onto a world gilded with buttery yellow light.

“How do you feel?”

His multilayered voice echoed, clenching my abdomen with longing.

“Good,” I croaked through a parched throat. “I’m all tingly.”

In my pants.

Kierce cleared his throat.

That was the point when I realized I was checking his pants for signs of…tingles…too.

“I am so sorry.” I slapped my palms over my eyes. “I don’t know what came over me.”

“You’re having a natural reaction.” He placed his hands on my shoulders. “Give it a moment to dissipate.”

“You should have warned me.” Heat lashed my face. “I didn’t know I was groping lust dirt.”

“Lust,” he said, blinking slowly. “Dirt.”

“You need to go back to the wagon. Tell Josie to drive you home or anywhere you want to go.” I held in a groan from deep in my soul. “I’m staying here. With the air plant. We’ll climb a tree together and?—”

“You were examining me for signs of arousal.”

The surprise in his voice convinced me living in the wild as an air plant was the right move for me.

“I’m a plant now.” I curled over my knees, pressing my forehead to the dirt. “I can’t understand you.”

“Frankie,” he chuckled my name. “Look at me.”

“Plants can’t look at people.”

“There’s new research that suggests otherwise.” His voice lowered to a pleading rumble. “Frankie.”

The second I drew my hands down my face, he was there, brushing his soft lips over mine.

He speared his fingers through my hair, angling my head in a way that spoke to past experience whether he recalled it or not. He held me there, his teeth raking my bottom lip, his mouth demanding I let him in. I darted my tongue out to taste him, and his groan of satisfaction thrummed through me, heady as a drug eager to addict me. I curled my hands in his hair, refusing to let him retreat an inch from the fire burning through me, consuming me.

“Get a room.”

We only broke apart when lack of oxygen screamed in my brain, but I couldn’t let him go. He seemed to have the same problem, his grip on me unbreakable, his heart pounding between us so hard I worried it might shatter.

A hard jab of pain radiated out from the crown of my head, and I yelped as it smarted a second time.

“Badb,” Kierce growled, shielding me as best he could from the next pebble to rain down.

“Heh.”

Head swinging toward the source of the laughter, I spotted Josie and her plant egging on Badb. “Mary.”

“Ahem.” She cut her eyes left. “Unless you want to be an internet sensation?”

Three teenagers stood on the sidewalk with their phones pointed at us. The two girls were swoony, but I caught the boy, who was younger, flipping the camera forward and back to cut his disgusted expressions into the video. I had no idea how long they had been standing there, watching the show, but they must have arrived during our kiss. Had they strolled up during the hymn, or before I satisfied my curiosity about how Kierce tasted, she would have gotten our attention sooner.

“What does she mean?” Kierce’s fingers slid from my hair. “They’re filming us?”

“Yes.” I transferred my glare onto the kids, who scattered with cackled laughter. “Probably to show their friends the mating rituals of old people.” I snorted at his growl of annoyance. “I’m joking. Mostly. I mean they could splice it into a clip on how cringe we are, but we were only a passing amusement.”

“They stole our first kiss.” A sterling gleam brightened his eyes. “They had no right.”

Old as he was, I wasn’t surprised to learn Kierce was possessive or held chivalrous views.

Honestly, in an age where every kiss and touch were documented and scattered across the internet into the homes and lives of total strangers, I couldn’t blame him for his anger in having our first kiss recorded for mass consumption or possibly dumped and forgotten in a digital trash can.

There was a feed the beast mentality I had adjusted to as popular culture evolved around us that Kierce had yet to experience until now. People wanted to be relevant. They wanted to be seen, heard, envied. And when the inevitable happened, and they ran out of fresh content about their own lives, they looked to others to provide sustenance for them and their followers.

Today was, apparently, our turn on the menu.

“This is the world we live in.” I cupped his cheek in my palm. “They didn’t mean any harm.”

“You’re not upset.” His gaze dipped to my mouth. “You don’t mind?”

“My boyfriend kissed me.” I fizzed with happiness. “Who cares who saw it?” I swiped my thumb across his tight lips. “I’m not going to let them ruin my buzz.” I dropped my hand. “Are you?”

“No.” He rested his forehead against mine. “I kissed my—girlfriend?—and she liked it.”

The thread of worry under his bravado pinched my heart, forcing me to recall his fears of inadequacy.

“Very much.” I brushed my nose against his. “So much she might even let you do it again later.”

Minus the audience.