9. Chapter Nine

Chapter Nine

Michael

Pain exploded in my head like I had never felt before. Crying out, my knees buckled, and I landed in a heap on the cold linoleum floor. Grasping my head with my hands, I whimpered, my breaths no more than short pants. Nausea rolled through my stomach, while clammy sweat flooded my body.

The pain was so intense I couldn't think, couldn't see, could barely breathe. It was like the worst migraine I'd ever had times twenty. I didn't know what was happening, but it felt like I was dying.

And then, as quickly as it had dropped me to my knees, it vanished.

"Michael!" Callum's voice surrounded me, flooding me with relief. Warm hands caressed my sweat dampened jaw, before grabbing my hand. Grasping his fingers tightly, I clung to him like a lifeline.

Blinking my eyes open, I stared dully up into his worried green eyes, taking stock of myself. The pain was a dull memory, barely leaving a trace of it in its wake.

Callum's fingers squeezed mine, while his other hand hovered over me like he wasn't sure where or if he should touch me or not. "What happened?"

Shaking my head, I thought better of it, as the movement set off a warning ache and my stomach rose to the back of my throat. Gingerly, I lay where I was, breathing as deeply as I dared.

"Not sure. Migraine, maybe, times about a hundred." Resting my free hand against my stomach, I admitted hoarsely, "Still a little queasy from it."

"Do you think you can stand?" Callum questioned, his voice lowering until he was nearly whispering too. "We'll get you onto the sofa. Better than this hard floor."

Pushing up on my elbows, it didn't escape my notice that he was still holding my hand tightly. The pressure was nice, warm and a bit tingly. I couldn't deny I liked the feel of Callum's hand in mine. "Yeah, maybe."

He gently helped me to my feet and my knees were incredibly weak and wobbly, my entire body feeling shaky. Callum slowly steered us across the shop floor and through the curtained doorway. He deposited me onto a plush, soft sofa, but I hadn't even registered how we'd gotten here .

Resting my head back against the sofa, I closed my eyes, trying to will my body to stop shaking from the intense pain it had experienced minutes before. Adrenaline had taken over and it wasn't a pleasant feeling.

"I'll get you some water and find some ibuprofen or something," Callum told me, letting go of my hand. Immediately, I felt the loss and wanted to reach out and find his hand. But my need for something to knock out the mild remnants of the lingering headache won out against whatever desire touching Callum brought me.

"Thanks," whispering, I rubbed at my temples, trying to figure out what had caused whatever the fuck had just happened. Callum moved away, taking his warmth with him.

"Aye!!" Screaming as the pain assaulted me again, I grabbed my head, curling into a tight ball on the sofa.

"Michael!" Callum's voice filled my ears like a vacuum, barely there. All I could hear was my heartbeat, thumping loudly and too fast. Pain exploded from every part of my brain, so intense I couldn't think or see. It consumed me until all I knew was blinding agony, until I thought it was going to explode.

Gentle hands touched mine, covering them, and just like before, the pain vanished almost instantly. Leaving me a panting, shaking, balled up wreck on Callum's couch. What the ever-loving fuck was happening to me ?

Breathing hard, I squinted, and Callum's anxious face came into focus in front of me. "What is happening to me?" My voice was raw, ragged.

Callum chewed nervously on his bottom lip and pushed his black frames back up his nose. "Um…I'm not sure."

He stood, peering down at me with worried eyes, wrinkling his nose. If I hadn't been trying to breathe normally again, and not freak the fuck out, I would have found his nose scrunching adorable. "I want to try something. Test a theory."

"Sure," flopping a weak hand his way, I gave him the ‘do your best' sign. Honestly, I didn't have the energy to even move right then, so he could do whatever and I'd probably let it happen.

I watched as he took a backwards step away from me, then another, his eyes never leaving my face. When he got just past the roughly ten-foot mark, my head exploded, ripping an involuntary scream from me. "Stop! Make it stop!"

Much quicker than before, it miraculously did.

Gasping for air, I blinked up at Callum, towering over my prone figure. "Callum?"

"Oh dear."

Something in his tone had me pushing myself up to a sitting position. Sweat ran down my brow, while tremors raced across my body. "Callum? "

Wringing his hands, he looked visibly pale and distraught. "Oh dear."

"Stop saying that and tell me what is happening to me?" My voice came out sharper than I intended, but I never responded well to pain. I was the proverbial bear with a sore paw whenever I was hurt.

He sank down next to me, his thigh resting against mine, his body heat seeping into me. Sagging, I leaned into him, soaking in his heat and the comfort his presence somehow brought me. "I'm sorry, Michael."

Turning to face him, I stared into his troubled eyes. "What did you do?"

He took a breath, his chest expanding with the force of it, stretching the material of his shirt tightly, before letting it out in a loud whoosh. "I shouldn't have tried to do a reversal spell. I shouldn't have tried to do any spell. Spell casting and me, we don't…mix."

Taking a minute to sort his words out in my aching head, I finally asked, "What exactly does that mean? And please keep in mind, that until a couple of days ago, I didn't believe in any of this," I waved my arm around weakly. "Not witches, spells, curses, hexes…all of it. Any of it. So, talk to me like I have no clue what you mean."

Because honestly, I really didn't. I was still trying to wrap my head around the fact that witches were real. That I had a spell placed on me by a pissed off hottie I'd picked up in a club, and that I was intensely attracted to Callum, who apparently, while a real witch, wasn't the best witch around.

"We should have waited for Daphne," he muttered, running his hands through his thick black hair, and making it go even more wild over his head. "I promised them I wouldn't do any spells."

Well, this–whatever this was–wasn't getting any better.

"You promised them you wouldn't do any spells." Slowly, I repeated his words, like that would make any of this better.

Callum nodded, pushing his glasses up. "I'm not great at spell casting. I never have been. My spells tend to go a bit…off-kilter." He chewed on his thumb nail some more. "My family made me promise that I wouldn't do any spell casting while they are away. But then you sorta blew in, and you were so desperate to have the spell broken. And you didn't even bat an eye when I told you I was a witch, even though you're a complete non-believer."

Holding up one hand weakly to stop him from saying anything else, I tried to stay calm. "You aren't great at spell casting?"

He shook his head, still chewing on his nail.

"But you did it anyway?"

He nodded, this time in an up and down, affirmative motion.

"Something always goes…wrong with your spells? "

A slower nod of his head this time. He pushed his glasses up, peering at me apprehensively through the lenses.

Running a shaky hand down my face, I silently wondered how my life had gotten to this place in just a couple of days. "Then why did you do it?"

He sighed heavily, sitting back down next to me, his hands gripping his thighs tightly. "I didn't want you to leave yet, and it was just a simple reversal spell. It should have been super easy. A toddler witch should have been able to reverse it." Sighing defeatedly, he sank back into the cushions. "I should have known better. I'm the worst witch that ever witched."

Almost afraid to ask, because there was a whole lot to unpack in Callum's rambling explanation, I did it anyway. "What do you think happened? With your spell?"

He nibbled on his bottom lip, sitting up straight. Staring me in the eyes, he whispered, "I think instead of reversing the original spell, I somehow bound us together."