Holidays are Hell

"For trick-or-treat. I'd be the mad scientist, and he'd be my assistant. We would go up and down the halls of the hospital…" My emotions gave a heavy-hearted lurch, and I swallowed down a lump. "We'd hit the nurse's desk in the children's ward, and then the old people's rooms."

I didn't want to talk about it, and my fingers set it down sliding away with a slow sadness. It seemed Pierce understood, since he was silent for a moment, then said, "You look the picture of health, Miss Rachel. A fair, spirited, young woman."

Grimacing, I picked up the charm and dropped it back into the box. "Yeah, well, try telling my brother that."

Again he was silent, and I wondered what his nineteenth-century morals were making of me and my stubborn determination. He said I was spirited, but I didn't think that was necessarily a good thing back then.

"This is one I'd like to take if I might," Pierce said as he held up a rather large, palm-sized metallic amulet. "It detects people within a small space."

"Cool," I said, taking it from him and pulling the pin. "Does it work?"

Again, that cramping set my hand to feel tingly and odd. The entire middle of the amulet went opaque, two dots showing in the middle. Us, apparently. "Still works," I said, replacing the pin and handing it to him. "You may as well have it. I've got no use for it."

"Thank you," he said, dropping it into his pocket with the noisy lock picker. "And this one? It also creates a distraction."

I grinned. "Another boom spell?"

"Boom?" he said, then nodded, getting it. "Yes, a boom spell. They are powerful effective. I have the understanding to set one unaided, but I need to commune with the ever-after to do it. This one will suffice."

I had a feeling that most of the spells he was putting in his pocket were ones he knew how to do unaided. I mean, he'd blown the doors in the I.S. tower, and then set a ward over them. I hadn't minded his using me to draw off the line. Which made the next step of wanting to go with him easy. I mean, I could really help him, not just this tour-guide stuff.

"Pierce," I said, fingering the charm to make a hunchback.

The man's attention was in the box, but he seemed to know where my thoughts lay as his next words were, "There is no need for you to accompany me, Miss Rachel. It has nothing to do with your health, and everything to do with me resolving this on my own." He pulled out a charm. "This is a likely one, as well."

Momentarily distracted, I leaned until our shoulders touched. "What is it?"

Pierce slid down a few inches to put space between us. "It allows a body to listen upon a conversation in a room set apart."

My eyebrows rose. "So that's how they always knew what I was up to."

He laughed, the masculine rolling sound seeming to soak into the corners of the kitchen like water into the dry sand bed of a stream. The house had been so empty of it, and hearing it again was painful as our lack was laid bare.

"Your father was a rascal," Pierce said, not aware I had been struck to the core and was trying to blink back the unexpected tears.

"You say that like it's a bad thing," I quipped. Why is this hitting me so hard? I thought, blaming it upon my recent hope to talk to him again.

"Oh look," I said, my hand diving in to pull out a familiar spell. "What's this doing in here? This is my mom's."

Pierce took it from me, our fingers touching a shade too long, but his eyes never flicked to me. "It's a ley line charm to set a circle, but unlike the ungodly rare earth magic equivalent, you need to connect to a line to use it."

"My mother is terrible at ley line magic," I said conversationally as Pierce collected all the discards and dumped them in, my mom's included. "My dad used to make all her circles for her. She used to set this when she still made his earth magic charms for him."

I saw him stiffen when I reached back in the box, took out my mom's amulet, and placed it around my neck. "I can tap a line. It will work for me."

"No," he said, facing me. "You aren't coming. I've forbidden it."

My breath came out in a scoff. "You forbid it?" I said, tilting my head up. "Look, Pierce," I said, hand going to my hip. "You can't forbid me anything. I do what I want."

"I have forbidden you from accompanying me," he said as if that settled it. "I'm thankful for what you have done, and that you're letting me borrow your father's spells shows how gracious and honorable your spirit is. Now prove it and stay home as you should."

"You little chauvinistic pig!" I exclaimed, feeling my pulse race and my knees start to go weak. Trying to hide it, I crossed my arms over my chest and leaned against the counter. "I can help you, and you know it. Just how are you going to get there, Mr. Man From The Past? Walk it? In the snow? It's got to be at least fifteen miles."

Pierce didn't seem to be fazed by my temper, which ticked me off all the more. He calmly shrugged into his long coat and folded the box closed. "May I still take these?" he asked, eyebrows high.