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Claire stumbled, and pressed one hand over her heart, shock and surprise almost as sharp as the pain.
She gripped the edge of the counter, relieved that she was alone in the shop, and worked her way over to the stool she kept behind the counter. Once she lowered herself to its support, her free hand closed over the amethyst heart she always wore. It didn’t ease the lingering ache.
“Claire!” Marcus of Sinai, the Jinn who was her husband and self-appointed protector, sprinted from the back of the shop. He must have been at home when he felt her pain. As a healer, his sensitivity to those he cared about was heightened. He skirted the counter and framed her face. “Where?”
“My chest,” she whispered. “Not my heart, Marcus, so take the panic off your face. It was a familiar pain, one I have not felt for years.”
He searched her face, his jade green eyes narrowed. “You know what it is.”
She nodded, swallowing. “Someone touched my grace.”
“You are certain?”
“Zach should have used it all, protecting him when he fell. But he has been dreaming of that night, which makes me believe there is still a piece of it, most likely caught in his tattoo. That was the only part of his old self he carried with him.”
“What can it do, Claire?”
With a sigh, she eased out of his grip, took his hands so he wouldn’t keep checking her vital signs. “At the least, enhance Zach’s gifts. Worst case, and the one I fear the most—it will draw my old enemies.”
“Enemies—as in demons.”
“I made my share, Marcus. I have to warn Zach—”
“We will warn Zach. After you have some additional protection. Stay here.”
He stalked around the counter, headed for the glass display case where Claire kept some of her most valuable pendants. She rubbed her chest, the ache finally easing, and stared out the front window.
Tourists crowded the shady sidewalks of Forest Street, many of them stopping to look at her latest window display. The Wiche’s Broom, her narrow, well-stocked Wicca shop, brought in the curious for the name alone. Most of them stayed, browsing in the welcoming atmosphere. Unlike her competition, she catered to everyone, not just those serious about their craft.
Marcus returned, holding several pendants. Claire bit back a smile.
“I don’t need to wear all of them, love.”
He tilted his head, the silver hamsa earring winking through his curling brown hair. “I wanted to give you a choice, as I am not familiar with what you may need to protect you from a piece of yourself.”
She leaned in and kissed him. “I love how you think of all the angles of a problem.”
Anger flashed in his eyes. “Your life is not a problem to solve, Claire.”
“And I love you because you believe that. Let me see what you chose.” He handed over the pendants, and the warm hum of energy filled her. Marcus had made good choices; the beautifully cut quartz crystal, with a rainbow trapped in its depths, the tiger eye, surrounded by fine gold wire, and the deep blue lapis cross she still couldn’t part with, even after multiple offers for it. “These three will do.”
“Please allow me.” He took them back, then moved behind her and draped them around her throat, one by one. With each addition she felt stronger, the touch of her grace fading until it was an echo of the pain that had nearly dropped her. “It is fading.”
“Yes.” She took in her first full breath, and leaned against Marcus. “That frightened me, more than I want to admit.”
“You are not alone, Claire.”
“Not since the day you stepped into my shop.”
He wrapped his arms around her and pressed his lips to the top of her head. “It was a good day for me, witch.”
“I thought so as well, Jinn. Eventually.”
He let out a low growl, and she laughed, knowing he wasn’t serious. Mostly. He would take out any aggressions later tonight—and she would welcome them, giving her the time and distraction to help forget what she had to do.
If she felt this connection to her grace, then Zach did as well. It was time to talk to him again about the dreams. It was past time to find out if her grace still existed.