Southern Charms

Enigma

Charlie Connor's face was handsome even unconscious. I kind of hated him for that. Harmony photographed me sleeping once, and I looked like a slack jawed fool with a drooling problem. But he looked serene, not a trace of drool in sight, despite the bleeding gash on his smooth forehead.

Digging through my pack, I pulled out the first aid kit I'd stashed on a whim. Most teenagers around Black Brier carried healing tonics if they didn't possess the Healing Gift. Always paid to be prepared in a town when spells could backfire or creatures of myth could pop up. I was stuck with alcohol wipes and gauze- both of which I was very thankful for as I tried to patch up the teenage boy before me. The teenage boy who, by all the rules and magic, shouldn't be here.

"Charlie, Charlie," I whispered, mopping up the blood with a wince. Head wounds bleed a lot. I knew that, but I couldn't stop the panic as every swipe came away red.

His lashes fluttered, and a low moan escaped his lips. But he didn't wake up. For that, I was grateful. There was no telling what brought him here or if he would be in his right mind when he came to. I needed a few moments to come up with an explanation. I also needed backup.

After taping gauze over his wound, I fired off a quick text, praying she was near her phone. If it was Flannery, I'd be certain to hear from her in seconds if she wasn't sleeping. Willow might not reply for days, but barely a minute passed before two figures shimmered into existence at my side.

"Holy crap," Willow gasped, pointing at Charlie, "why is there a dead man here?"

"He's not dead," I snapped, swinging my gaze toward Ash. Why had he come? And why did I feel guilty?

"Is that the guy from St. Augustine?" Ash asked. His voice sounded carefully controlled.

"Charlie. Flannery's brother."

"Oh crap," Willow said, dropping to her knees to see him better, "a dead man would be easier to explain. How did an impoten get in here?"

"I have no idea. I felt someone touch me, and when I spun around, this charm blasted him backward." I held up my wrist for them to see. Ash let loose a low whistle. "You recognize this?"

He held my wrist with one hand, running his fingers over the bracelet with the other. I tried to keep my expression neutral, not wanting him to see how much I enjoyed his touch.

"I don't know if I've seen anything quite like this before. Your mom's handiwork, I'm guessing."

"Yeah, I found it in her shop." I didn't mention the way the charm had called to me.

"Alizon Wych is extremely talented."

Willow pushed her fingers against her temple. "What were you doing out here, Rosey?"

"Oh, um," I said, searching for a way to avoid looking like an idiot. There wasn't one. "I couldn't sleep, and I knew some of the shadier witches in town liked to meet here so I thought I'd see if they were our culprits."

Willow snickered and looked over at the group dancing around the fire, still unaware or uncaring of our existence. "Rose, you do know why the Council let's them keep this mess up, right?"

"Because they're not really doing anything illegal."

"That, and not a single person in that group has the power to do anything really bad if they wanted to. They're a step above impotens. Heck, some people think they should be kicked out."

Her words stung, but I didn't say comment on the slip. She didn't mean it that way. Even if I felt it.

Instead, I said, "Don't you think they're exactly who we should be looking at? People who want power or who need it for their spells? What better way to get it than to Siphon it off everyone else?"