Red House by Sonya Clark Read Free Book Online

Focusing my auric vision to see deeper into the spectrum than usual, much deeper, eventually I was able to see telltale traces of that trapped air’s energy. It was very faint, the faintest of pale watercolors, but it was enough to help me with visualizing what I wanted.
    According to my research, ball lightning was a natural example of plasma.
    I focused my will on the air inside the glass. The idea was to tap into that vein of fire magic that let me light candles with just a flick of power directed at a wick and use it to heat the air. By the time I felt the first spark of connection my skin was covered with a fine sheen of sweat, my t-shirt stuck to my body. It was some time later before I could see something in the glass, a tiny pop of gold that disappeared as fast as it arrived.
    I kept at it. Muscles protested and despite the heat of the day I began to shiver. A slightly larger dollop of gold appeared in the glass, zipping in a jerky pattern before dissipating.
    Pain gnawed at my stomach. A headache bloomed behind my eyes. The temptation to stop was great but I wanted to keep trying, at least for a few more minutes.
    Finally, a flash of gold not quite the size of a dime winked into existence. It danced and jumped inside the glass, looking very much like a large spark thrown during welding. Ricocheting off the glass, it sped up until it seemed to stretch into shining lines. The glass wobbled, then exploded in a shower of jagged pieces. I rolled to one side, off the quilt and into the grass. Making things explode was not exactly what I’d had in mind, but it was better than nothing. A sense of accomplishment flooded me, pain quick on its heels. A piece of glass was embedded in my right upper arm, just below the t-shirt sleeve. Blood trailed to my elbow.
    Swearing viciously, I considered my options. I could try to take care of it myself, drive to an emergency room, or wake my sleeping ancestor to perform first aid on my bleeding self. He’d done it before but it was the kind of thing that really drove home the fact he was a vampire.
    After a tentative attempt to pull out the glass that made my stomach do a triple lutz, I decided to go wake Daniel. By cellphone.
    * * * *
    Blake was due to pick me up any minute. I still couldn’t believe we were going on a date. It seemed so normal. I wasn’t sure if I remembered how to do normal.
    Since I had no idea where we were going, I erred on the side of casual and dressed in jeans and a dressy top with three-quarter length sleeves to cover the bandage on my arm. Daniel had done a good job patching me up. He insisted I explain what happened, but to his credit he refrained from lecturing.
    He waited with me in the living room. The King Biscuit Time blues show warbled out of the antique radio. I tried reading but couldn’t focus on the words.
    “Does he know I’m prepared to do murder on your behalf?”
    “What the hell, Bubba?” I gave up on the paperback and set it on the coffee table. “I really don’t think you’ll be required to do murder.”
    Daniel wore an expression that would have bordered on comical if I hadn’t known he was serious. “All I’m saying, he can’t be trusted. I know it and you know it, yet you still want to date him?”
    Apparently Daniel had saved up all his lecturing for this moment. “Look–”
    “I mean, what kind of woman wants to date an evil demon-conjuring sorcerer?”
    “You’re about to cross a line,” I warned him.
    He raised an eyebrow. “Well, it’s not the kind of thing generally covered under your typical points of compatibility, now is it?”
    I rolled my eyes. “Now I know you’re just screwing with me.”
    “Of course I am. You really think I would give you a free pass when you do something this dumb?”
    “So you’ve never thrown caution to the wind and got involved with someone you knew you shouldn’t? In all the years you’ve lived, you really want me to believe you never did that?”
    My own words caught me up