Sapphire Spells

Chapter 15 - Page of Pentacles

My phone alarm goes off, letting me know it is 4:58 pm on Wednesday.

"I told you to silence your cell!" Violet hisses as I break out of our concentration to pull the phone out of my pocket.

For heavens knows how long, the two of us have been meditating together in their backyard. It is Violet's attempt at helping me break the block I have on the spirit realm. She is trying to coax my magic into a specific direction to follow hers. So far, it hasn't been working much.

Apparently, I have been putting up a fight with everything we are trying to do. There's a block on my magic that I put in place, and Phiona has yet to figure out how to remove it so that I can progress at a better rate. If I am honest with myself, I don't know how much I want the magic within me to be freed.

It is a part of myself that makes me uncomfortable.

My magic is entwined so intimately with my history, my family's ending. It is a place I don't want to go to. The only time I visit those memories is because something drags me there. No matter how hard I dig my fingers into the present, a monster grabs hold of me, and there is no escape. I don't willingly go into my past.

"My phone is silenced. This is an alarm." I inform Violet before rising to stand. "I need to make a call."

"We don't have time for this. We need to get you caught up." She frowns.

"I'll be quick," I say, walking towards the house and around it before finding a nice shady spot. I lean against a tree that is smack in between my place and theirs. My position provides me with a good view of their driveway and the old car parked on it, which Alaric is actively working on.

His brows are drawn in thought as if he is looking at a puzzle he is trying to figure out. It's kinda cute seeing him so focused on fixing a vehicle. It's almost disarming.

Under the protection of the shade from the hot sun, I dial the number I have had memorized since I was a girl.

"Misty's Diner!" A cheery voice answers.

"Hey, Misty," I say.

My gaze lingers on Alaric, who pulls the car's dipstick out and checks the oil. It's like watching a national geographic show on the alpha wolf in its natural habitat.

See how the primal male works at attempting to fix his automobile, something he needs for survival. The use of his hands is seen as a sign of competence, whether he actually knows what he is doing or not. Those hands capture the interest of a nearby female as she ponders what else they are capable of. And suddenly, I am in this National Geographic show and force myself to turn away from him.

Misty's voice helps me focus on something else. "Hey, baby. He's right here. Been itching at the bit, waiting for your call." There is some rustling.

"Hey." Drew's voice makes my chest contract. He is safe.

"Hi," I say, suddenly feeling small.

"You doing okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"Tell me what's going on."

"Phiona is here," I say, wondering how he will take that bit of information.

He doesn't respond.

"You know she was alive?" I ask while absentmindedly watching Alaric sift through a toolbox before going back to the car. My attention seems to constantly be drawn to him. I blame it on the lack of anything else interesting going on in my line of sight.