10. Patrick

Chapter ten

Patrick

A llan's personality held equal parts frustration and attraction for me. The kid relied on sarcasm and anger as coping mechanisms. However, I found his surliness to hold a certain charm. I couldn't always tell if his reluctance and ire were sincere, or if he used them as deflection to cope with failure or inability.

Despite Allan's attraction to me and my ability to be relatively patient with his outright hostility, there were solid reasons for why I chose to live alone.

As much as he cranked me up, I had to keep all those feelings tethered and locked away. Training a fledgling witch and sleeping with them would be bad news.

But teasing him held no end of amusement for me.

Then there was the fact that I had to deliver him to the Fae within a handful of short weeks.

Getting attached to him would spell disaster and heartache.

Still, taunting him was fun. I could tell he liked me. I had caught him taking stock of my body multiple times.

But I wasn't a complete asshole. In the spare room I had an extra housecoat hanging behind the door, one of those shortie types that really didn't cover too much, especially if you bent over. As I walked down the hallway and passed the bedroom, I stopped, grabbed it, slung it over my shoulders, and tied the front, then proceeded to go into the kitchen and start breakfast. Yeah, the housecoat barely covered my kneecaps, and the size of my shoulders meant the wrap around my waist was tight. It wouldn't cover up anything if I sat down, but at least my dick wasn't flopping around while I cooked food.

And why was I making breakfast? That wasn't going to be a regular thing either. I'm the elder here. He should be making me the meals. I'd have to work on getting a list of chores assigned for him. After all, discipline and routine made for a steady mind, a calm brain, and slick witchcraft.

Half listening to Allan putzing around with his shopping items, I busied myself with making coffee—a priority—and then pancakes.

We were going to need the carbs.

Studying magic required concentration, study, and practice. The first thing we needed to do was master some basics.

While the first batch of pancakes were frying in the griddle, I went into the spare room and pulled a few books, ran to the stove, flipped the fluffy flapjacks, then went back into the spare room for more materials.

I kept this pattern up for several minutes until I was satisfied I had a good stack of preliminary items— and pancakes.

We'd spend the morning going over fundamentals and the afternoon practicing what we learned earlier.

At least, that was the plan.

Allan showed up twenty minutes later.

"Finally. Does it always take you so long to get ready?"

"I was trying on all the clothes you bought to make sure they fit. There are three things you can return. They're too small." He grimaced.

"No worries. I did have to guess your size. But the rest?"

"Are okay, but not exactly my taste," he grumbled. "Still, thanks."

At least he seemed appreciative. "You found clothes?"

"While it's true I don't normally wear anything around the house, I suppose I can spare you from having to look at this old guy's body. But here's a tidbit of free witchy advice. Clothes hamper your ability to commune with nature: to feel the vibrations all around us, recognize the various elements at play, and be able to harness their energy. It helps in gaining mastery over our environments. A lot of witches live like I do, solitary and nude."

Allan stared at me like my hair was on fire.

I shrugged. "It's true."

"What's all this?" Allan pointed to the stack of books, pile of rocks, and jars of collected herbs.

"Your first lesson. That should take us until noon, and then we'll go outside and practice."

"This is crazy." He glanced back at me. A touch of fear made his eyes glassy and wide. "I'm never gonna learn this."

"Give yourself some credit. I've been at this for thirty-plus years. You've been at it for five minutes. You'll get there."

You have to get there.

We ate in silence, but Allan consumed a monster amount of food while glaring at the items I had brought out.

I didn't know when he'd eaten last, but if I had to guess, it was at least two days ago. The amount of food he put away would have fed four grown men.

"You want more? I can make another batch of batter."

"No! I'm stuffed. Thanks." He stood up and took his plates to the sink.

"I cooked. You wash up."

He rolled his eyes.

"I'm not running a hotel, and your next lesson in the ways of the witch…discipline is required in order to become great."

"I don't want to be great. I just want to learn how to shut it off."

"Shut it off?"

"Yeah. I was thinking while I was trying on clothes. I'll learn what you need me to, but I don't want this. I'll just learn how to not use it." The look on his face was steadfast.

I hated to burst his bubble.

"Oh, Allan, that's not how this works. How do I explain this?" I sat there, my mind whirling. I could understand his reluctance, but given the opportunity, most people would jump at the chance to be able to control the amount of power Allan had within him. We needed to start at the beginning.

"Lots of people are born with the capacity to access the energy that's all around us," I started. "But only a small handful will be able to tap into their power. For those who do, most will only ever have basic skills. Some might have psychic abilities, others might be able to light candles without matches, but rarely does another witch come along with enough talent to be a Magician. That's a witch who can manifest their will and make it tangible."

Allan looked confused.

"Maybe too fast." I thought for a moment, then rephrased. "A Magician is a special type of witch who has an enormous amount of power. When trained properly, a Magician can control all four of the elements: earth, water, fire, and air and use the properties of each to cast complex magic. We can go beyond the parlor tricks. We have the ability to tap into much more than the average witch.

"In other words, your body has opened up a channel to the natural environment that will harness, collect, reprogram, and redirect nature's inherent energy. Whatever you think, you can turn into a reality. Whatever you desire, you can manifest that need into reality. The key is to learn the properties of the elements so you can select the right attributes to achieve your goal."

"None of that made any sense."

I studied him carefully. Was he being dense on purpose, or were these concepts too confusing?

Maybe I needed to break this down into smaller bite-sized chunks.

"Okay, let's focus on one element. We might as well start off with your own attunement."

"Wait. What does that mean?"

"Your attunement?" Allan nodded. "Oh, okay. Each witch readily identifies with a single element. Yours is water. Think of it like teams. There are four teams: earth, air, fire, and water. You are water."

"Okay…" He scrunched up his face.

"But water isn't the end of it. Each element has various properties associated with it that go deeper. For instance, water is considered to be west on the compass, and it holds other talents like scrying, dreaming, memory, healing, emotions, intuition, and adaptability."

"So, I can heal people?"

"Sort of, yes. We'll have to see where exactly your natural abilities lie. Some water witches are excellent healers. Others, like me, are not, but I have amazing control on shaping water and then commanding the element to carry out my desires."

"How do you shape water? It's a liquid."

"Right, but you made water spikes yesterday in the shower. How do I explain this?" This was hard. These things I learned years ago. It was difficult to stop and think about taking everything back and setting the stage. I had to remember the very beginning basics. "Okay, when you dive off the dock into the water, what do you do with your hands?"

"I throw them above my head."

"Palms flat?"

"No, that's dumb. I keep them straight."

"What's the first thing to hit the water?"

"My fingertips."

"And what does that do?"

"I don't understand. I enter the water."

"Okay, good. Now stop and think, what happens when you cannonball into the water. What goes in first?"

"My legs, sometimes my butt."

"And have you ever done it from high enough that when you hit the water it stings?"

"Well, yeah, duh, that's the surface tension of the water— Oh."

The lightbulb went on. You could see his eyes widen, and if I didn't know any better, a slight glimmer of excitement sparked.

"The water spikes then? How did those happen?"

"By increasing the water tension into a small area."

"Correct. And then elongating the shape of the water into spears. And you did that all on your own, naturally, without even thinking about it."

"Damn."

"A witch might be able to scry by looking into a puddle of water and using the reflective surface to see into the future, or deep into someone's past. Changing the surface of the water to be glassy and creating a mirror is adjusting the surface tension of the water. But then the divination part is the talent.

"You can shape the water. We saw that with the water bubble you dropped on me this morning, and with the water spikes. But you also summoned a wave swell the night you went camping, so your abilities are varied, and flexible…at least in summoning and shaping the element.

"Now we want to find out what else you can do with it, and if you have additional talents."

"This is kinda cool." Allan's personality shifted, if only slightly. The sarcasm and anger had dropped, for the moment.

Perhaps this wasn't going to be as difficult as I thought.

Except now he stared at me like I was meat on a stick. It wasn't hard to see he had an attraction to me. I couldn't let mine be known. Getting feelings tied up into all of this would take away the focus from studying.

And then Allan was going away.

And I hadn't told him about that part yet.

But if I put a deadline on his head, he might concentrate more on that than on learning. And I couldn't afford for him to be given over to the Fae without being as adept as possible with his powers.

Cute or not, Allan was off limits.

Which killed me because I kinda liked the kid. As snappy as he could get, as dismissive and disrespectful, underneath it all I could tell he had smarts, a lot of talent, and a genuinely good heart.

How was I going to give him away?