She concentrated on lowering their bodies, felt the air beneath her give slightly. The blue aura around them thinned, and she felt the sheets under her. Amber uncoiled their joined hands and moved to push Gavin’s hair from his face. She noticed then, that they broke contact and the outside world didn’t rush in. She lifted both hands before her eyes and studied them. “We’re not touching.”

“Oh, my God, Amber,” Helen uttered.

“You’re cured?” Simon asked.

“I-I don’t feel anything beyond our thoughts. Is Mrs. Dawson home?” Laughter teased close to the surface because of the sheer fact she needed to ask about the mistress of the house.

“She is.”

“Seems the books were right. Bonding was the answer,” Giles said.

Amber met Giles’s gaze. Yes, but was the price too much to pay?

****

Selma varied her routine, didn’t leave the house at the exact same time and never went to the post office when she didn’t expect a line. It sucked, since lines weren’t fun to wait in…but it beat walking in empty parking lots with the spider-crawling sensation that had hooked its way up her spine and wasn’t letting go. She’d visited Dawson Manor once since Amber and Kincaid had fallen into their comatose state, and when she drove home that night, she felt the eyes of someone watching her. That someone was powerful.

Selma realized then she didn’t need to bring trouble on those in Mrs. Dawson’s home…not until they were all whole again and could defend themselves.

The walls of her apartment were becoming much like a prison. And it was ticking her off. There hadn’t been any more emails or requests from her lover-boy. In the wake of his unwelcome email and the news coverage, which she realized now probably wasn’t her guy, everything had been painfully silent. She wasn’t sure what was worse…knowledge or nothing?

Nothing. Nothing was definitely worse.

After thirty minutes of watching a reality show featuring up and coming, or wanna-be singers, Selma switched off the set with her mind and pushed herself off her couch. “What is wrong with you?” she asked herself. “You’re Druid, for crying out loud. Protect yourself!”

Yes, she could manipulate mechanical switches, lights, televisions, her computer, even the microwave when needed, with her mind. But her real gift was what she shipped to the world. It was what had made her believe she was a witch to begin with.

She left her living room, switching off the light as she passed with her mind. She graced her storage room with the same light show and found her box of charms. A variety of crystals, bits of amber, and even more precious stones lay in a velvet casement. She thought of her friend and picked a large dark amber stone originating from somewhere in Europe. She gathered several herbs and moved into her kitchen.

She’d never once gathered this many powerful elements in a protection spell. I’m probably overdoing it.

The thought of the people in her life surfaced, and she returned to her room to gather a few more stones.

“Go big or go home.”

She rubbed her hands together and willed the candles in the room to light. They were already surrounding her. It was her safe room. If anyone came after her here, they would find an unrelenting ward, briefly impenetrable, allowing her time to call for help.

She lifted a candle and dripped the wax inside a pestle. A dash of Juniper flaked on the hot wax, which she let burn before adding the bits of amber.

“For protection,” she mumbled. She added a small amount of betony and a dash of agrimony. “To ward off evil. Keep the wearer of this gem from harm. And finally…for wisdom.” She added acacia. “So the wearer might know evil is upon them and respond quickly.”

She circled her hands over the smoke and flame and added one more charm…her Druid gift. “If the Ancients will it so, charm these gems and keep the wearer whole.”

The flame in the stone bowl grew hot and then blew out.

Selma moved about the room, blew out her candles, and willed the lights in the room on. While the stones cooled, she assembled the bits of jewelry that would house the charmed stones.

If someone was watching her, they might come after those around her…and that wasn’t something she could live with. If no one was watching her…then the jewelry would simply be a nice gift and perhaps keep unwanted attention away. It was a win/win in her book… and hers was the only book that counted right now.

She was placing the last stone in the jewelry when her phone rang. Helen’s happy voice met her ears.

“Someone sounds excited.”

“Amber woke up and bonded to Kincaid.”

Selma’s hands fell and she stared across the room. “Bonded?”

“Yes. Oh, my God, Selma, you should have seen it. The room glowed in this bright blue sparkly light—”

“Sounds like an animated film.”

“I’m serious. Sparks…pixy dust…call it what you want, the room freaking glowed.”

“How did Kincaid respond?”

“He hasn’t regained consciousness.”

Selma rubbed her tired eyes. “Wait, he’s still out?”

“Out cold. Amber said he needs to rest. We all finally left their room. Well…Amber kicked us out.”

“Wait.” Selma shook her head, not able to picture what Helen was saying. “Amber kicked you out? Soft and moldable Amber told you to leave?”

Helen’s giggle brought a lift to Selma’s lips. “Yeah…she said we all needed to stop staring at the two of them and go.”

“Wow.” Selma couldn’t picture it.

“And another thing…”

“What?”

“The voices, the emotions…they aren’t there anymore.”

The ache in Selma’s jaw from her smile started to fade. “What do you mean?”

“Amber’s gift…it’s like it’s not there.”

“How’s that possible?”

“I don’t know. Maybe Kincaid’s gift is sheltering her. She’s not holding his hand every second of the day and she couldn’t even tell if Mrs. Dawson was in the house.”

“How can that be?”

Helen blew out a breath. “I don’t know. Giles is in the library searching for answers. He’s never heard of any Druid losing a power, or even a power weakening once they bonded. Maybe once Kincaid wakes we’ll know what’s happening with him.”

“Could he have sucked her power inside him?”