Chapter 23

Twenty-Three

"Saints should never interfere with the business of the world and the politics within it. They should be set apart, to help the individual, so the individual can help the collective." — Sayings of the Blessed Crow.

Mara arrived at the teashop to find Athanasius prowling about the front windows with his tail fluffed up.

"There you are! God and his angels, girl! Do you know how worried I’ve been?" he demanded, swatting at her legs.

"You saw me leave with Augustus. You knew where I was, so stop being so dramatic. I’ll feed you now so you don’t die," Mara chided. She was in too good of a mood to have him bring her down.

"I’m not concerned about food. I was worried the miracle had come out of you, and you were a pile of feathers somewhere," Athanasius hissed, following her into the kitchen. "Last time you went out with the sorcerer, it almost overtook you."

"It was the ambrosia. Augustus had nothing to do with it." Mara tipped out some tuna into his bowl on the counter.

"Augustus has everything to do with it." Athanasius’s fur stood on end when he brushed past her. "You stink of him. Please tell me you didn’t mate with the beast."

"I’m not talking about my sex life with you," Mara replied, snagging an apple from the fruit bowl.

"That’s a yes. God, of all the men."

"Stop pretending you don’t like him."

"You like him, so I have no choice," the cat grumbled and ate some of his tuna. "I suppose he will be around soon. The storms smell like his magic."

Mara sat down on one of the stools. "Yes, he will. These storms are his warning to purge his last heartache."

"Do you think it’s wise to try and heal him when you are also sleeping with him?" Athanasius asked.

"I don’t have a choice. I’m the only one that can do it for him and the only one he trusts."

"What if it’s so terrible that you can’t look at him the same way afterward?"

Mara chewed her apple thoughtfully. "I don’t think it will matter. I can’t judge his past and expect a place in his future. I love him." She expected Athanasius to hiss and growl at that. He just fixed her with his ageless cat eyes.

"I know. I still don’t have to like it. Sophia never told me where her vision of you two ended up. She usually saw all the way to death. Her vision of you was so different. I think it’s what spooked her the most."

"Good. It means my future might be mine for once. I’m so tired of not being able to live my life. I want to be remembered. I want to belong somewhere. Maybe that makes me the worst Crow Saint to ever live, but I don’t care anymore."

Augustus’s words drifted back to her. There will be no giving up for either of us. We were destined, saint. You’re mine, and I’m never letting you go.

Mara had a small and dangerous taste of being loved for who she was. To be wanted. It was intoxicating, and she craved more.

"I hope for all of us that you can get it, Mara." Athanasius licked his paw. "Also, you will never be as bad of a saint as your great cousin, Daria. She tried to heal a girl of the pox and ended up causing the Black Plague."

Mara laughed. "No! She didn’t."

"No, really. It’s true. It took the rest of the twelve traveling magical families of Europe to get the damn thing under control."

Mara went upstairs to change and get ready for the day but found herself incapable of doing away with the blue shirt she had borrowed from Augustus. It smelled of him, and she wanted him close.

You’re acting pathetic, Sophia’s ghost scoffed in the back of her head.

"You would know, wouldn’t you, mother? Seems we have a weakness for sorcerers in this family," Mara said, and for once, her mother’s voice shut up.

* * *

Mara had a day of tidying the store and re-organizing her tea leaf supplies. She had thought more people would come in.

When magic was usually churning in the air like it had been with the storms, she would always have a full day ahead of her. The streets seemed ominously quiet.

She was up a ladder, checking what was on her top shelves, when the bell chimed. She didn’t have to turn around to know who it was. His aura and power filled the store and made her insides tremble.

"You’re earlier than I thought you would be," Mara said, turning to glance at the sorcerer over her shoulder. Augustus’s dark curls were wild from the wind, the smell of the storms radiating from him.

"I needed to see you and didn’t want to wait," he said, coming to stand by her ladder. He held it while she stepped down a few rungs, then plucked her off it and placed her down on the bar.

"Well, hello," she said with a laugh.

Augustus moved between her thighs. "Hi." He kissed her, and Mara’s arms slid around his neck. She could feel the tension in his shoulders, and she hooked her legs around him.

"What’s happened?" she asked, drawing back.

"Flynn came to me with a message from the trees. I need to close the hole in the magic before it grows any more unstable." Augustus placed his forehead against hers. "I need you to make me tea, Mara. I’ve never felt so torn in my life."

Mara pushed down her own fear of losing him and cupped his face. "It’s going to be okay, Augustus. Tell me about your maps. Did you check them over?"

Augustus nodded. "The hole is definitely smaller, and from what I can tell, the sides of it are starting to reach for each other. Every time their edges touch, it causes friction, and we get small surges in the magic."

"It’s trying to heal itself, but it’s not quite there. If you have another tea session, maybe it will draw the sides together close enough that it will rebind itself without any more input from you?" Mara hypothesized.

"It’s a good theory. I still need to do the session, and I’m not looking forward to that. As soon as I stepped outside of my wards, your shop’s power grabbed me like a gaff hook to the guts. I know what memory it wants out of me, and it’s digging around in it." Augustus rested his head in the groove of her shoulder. "It’s the worst of me, and I don’t want you to hate me, Mara."

Mara’s saint’s heart ached at feeling his suffering. "It’s not going to happen, Augustus. You aren’t that man anymore. I love who you are now, and nothing is going to change that."

"I don’t deserve you."

"I know." Mara kissed his temple. "But I love you anyway."

Augustus raised his head to fix her with his big gray eyes. "If I live, I’m going to make sure I work to deserve you. I promise."

"Easy, sorcerer. Your bastard side is part of your charm," Mara teased.

Augustus’s hands drifted to her hips and pulled her closer. "I never said I’d stop being a bastard. I don’t think even your miracle is big enough to cure me of that." He placed a hand over the miracle burning inside of her. "I can feel it, pulsing away. I hope I live long enough to see you use it."

Mara kissed him tenderly. "I believe you just might, dear sorcerer."