Chapter 22

Twenty-Two

"Sorcerers must be aware of the magic around them at all times, whether it’s to call on it for aid or to warn others of the danger. Wild magic is unpredictable and truly neutral. It will take as easily give, and should never be trusted, like those who wield it." — Sorcery in the Age of Reason.

Augustus woke with his legs tangled in his blankets and a siren song drifting up the stairs. He could still feel Mara’s warmth in the sheets and smell her perfume in the air.

His smile was instant, lazy, and intensely satisfied. He pulled on a pair of jeans and went downstairs to find his troublesome saint.

Augustus paused in the kitchen door, watching her brew coffee. She was in one of his shirts, one foot resting against her calf and humming a strange melody.

Augustus loved seeing her in his kitchen, moving about like she belonged in his house, because she did. He couldn’t handle not touching her, so he came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her.

"Hey, good morning," she said in surprise and then melted back into him. "I hope you don’t mind, but I helped myself to your wardrobe. My sweater was left in England."

"Take whatever you want. I would go and get it for you, but I like you in this shirt far too much," Augustus said, kissing her cheek. "What has you up so early?"

"It’s nine o’clock."

"Far too early. Come back to bed with me."

Mara shook her head and poured out their coffee. "I need to go home and make sure Athanasius has food."

"I’m sure he’ll survive a few more hours."

"My pillows won’t when he pisses on them out of spite," Mara said, passing him a mug. Her lips looked a little swollen from kisses, and Augustus’s dick hardened. "Don’t you look at me like that, sorcerer."

"Like what?" he said innocently.

Mara’s eyes narrowed playfully. "Like I’m about to end up bent over the kitchen table."

"How have you managed to catalog my expressions so accurately already?" he demanded, making her laugh.

"I’ll be back later, and then we’ll see about the kitchen table."

"That’s my saint." Augustus bit his bottom lip and looked her over. "How long does it take to feed a cat?"

"You have work to do, sorcerer. Focus on that for a few hours," Mara said, sipping her coffee.

"What work?"

"The hole in magic. Do you remember it? You love taking your measurements and all of that…" she made a dismissive gesture with her hand, "sorcerer stuff."

Augustus chuckled. "That’s the technical term?"

"You can’t avoid it forever. These storms are increasing in intensity, and magic is causing them," Mara argued.

"I know." Augustus didn’t want to fight with her about it. He wished he couldn’t feel the magic in the air and know that it was waiting for him. He had only just gotten her, and if he closed the magic gap…

"What’s wrong?" Mara felt the shift in him instantly.

"For the first time since I broke everything, I don’t want to die. I want, well, you. And to study something other than my stupid mistakes. I want to travel away from this city. I want things that I have no business wanting," he admitted.

Mara put her mug down and wrapped her arms around him. Her face fitted neatly into the groove of his chest. "It’s going to be okay, Augustus. I believe it, even if you don’t. I’m not going to let the magic take you without a fight. It wants to be healed, and maybe it wants you to be as well. It keeps pushing us together, doesn’t it?"

Augustus kissed the top of her head. "True. I suppose if I can believe it’s sentient enough to maliciously kill me in revenge, I have to think the opposite could be true too. Damn you, saint, it’s a terrible thing to give a man hope like this."

Mara tilted her head back to smile up at him. "I’m not sorry. Do the work, Augustus. You’ll feel better about it. I’ll be back later, and we can make a plan."

Augustus cupped her cheeks, his eyes dancing over her face to memorize every line.

"Okay, you win. But don’t think I’m not also going to be thinking about a way to make a magical cat feeding spell for the future."

Mara clicked her tongue. "Possessive little sorcerer, aren’t you?"

Augustus kissed her slowly and thoroughly. "You should’ve paid closer attention to the warnings in your book about just how possessive and obsessive sorcerers can be when something has their curiosity piqued."

God, he’d almost killed Connor for asking her out, even if they were barely friends at that point. He had been fighting himself since the day he met her.

Mara gave him a cheeky smile that hit him in the groin. "I’ll pretend to hate that, shall I?"

Augustus let her go with a pained sigh. "Go, quickly, before I change my mind and let Athanasius starve, then we’ll never hear the end of it."

* * *

After Mara had left, Augustus had a shower and tried to clear his brain of sex haze. His smile turned even smugger when he spotted the few scratches and hickeys Mara had left on him.

She was a saint, but she was no prude, and damn if he didn’t love that about her.

You need to focus. Just because you got laid doesn’t mean you can forget your purpose.

Feeling more on task, Augustus went into this study and looked about at the years of frustrating research he had done on Melbourne’s magic. It had consumed him in more ways than one.

He had cut himself off from the world as penance and punishment, and it had been for nothing. It was a bitter pill to swallow.

"No point crying over it now, Vance. What’s done is done," he said to himself. He pulled up his map of Melbourne, put on his glasses, and got to work.

Hours later, Flynn arrived and stuck his head into the study. "What’s all this then? How come I can smell a woman in the house? Where is she?"

"Good morning, Flynn. Mara was here. Yes, you have met her. No, she’s cursed, so you won’t remember her," Augustus replied, rubbing at a smudge on his map before realizing it was on his glasses.

His mind was lost in the magic. The hole in it had definitely gotten smaller. He hadn’t had tea, so maybe it had been spending the night with Mara?

"Mara, the saint?" Flynn asked.

Augustus looked up, snapping him to the present. "Yes. How did you know? People don’t remember her because of her curse, so how do you?"

"I don’t, but the trees are talking about her." Flynn walked over and leaned against the table beside him. "It’s why I’m here. They’ve sent me to tell you that the saint is the key and that you can’t put it off any longer."

Augustus pinched the bridge of his nose, a sudden pressure in his head. "The trees sent you as an emissary? Why are they so worried all of a sudden?"

"The storms since the blood moon are battering them to hell. They aren’t natural for this time of year or at all. They are magical and will only get worse until you sort it out. Fuck, it’s 2003 all over again, and we’ll get worse than wish trees if it’s not fixed," Flynn replied.

"Okay, okay, I get it. Fuck. I’ll go and see Mara soon."

"Good. She is the key according to trees."

Augustus rubbed at his cheek. "I know she is."

"Then where’s your hesitation coming from? You’ve wanted to close the magic gap since you broke it." Flynn frowned, looking him over. He sniffed. "Oh Jesus, you’re in love. With the saint?"

"Yes. It’s made things more complicated," Augustus said, and after a pause added, "And more wonderful."

"And she knows that you solving this could kill you?"

Augustus nodded. "Yes."

"But she knows you have to do it anyway?"

Another nod.

"You really don’t do anything the easy way, do you?" Flynn blew out a breath. "Look, magic isn’t going to wait for you to get your heart together. At least you got to feel the rush of love again. Not many people get it once in their lifetimes, and you have gotten it twice. Maybe it just needs to be enough."

Augustus crossed his arms, nausea turning his stomach at the thought of losing Mara. She had been under his nose for over eighty years. He couldn’t help but think of the time he had wasted.

Flynn poked him in the shoulder. "You’re getting that face, sorcerer. Stop blaming yourself for whatever is going on in your head. Go and see your saint. Fix magic."

"Are you so sick of my company that you’re sending me to my death?" Augustus teased.

Flynn shook his head. "I’m choosing to think you’re not going to die."

"You and Mara both."

Flynn smiled, and because he had a strong streak of bastard in him, he said, "If you do die, I’ll make sure we find comfort in each other."

"If I live, I’m pouring pesticide on the back garden for that," Augustus threatened.

Flynn caught him up in a hug before Augustus could fend him off. "Live first, old friend. Live."