This Soul Magic by Michele Hauf

Author:Michele Hauf [Michele Hauf]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Fantasy
ISBN: 9781460307434
Google: 2hfVeDRcFI0C
Amazon: B00APEYBO2
Barnesnoble: B00APEYBO2
Goodreads: 17324338
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2013-01-01T07:00:00+00:00

Five

Orange juice was the work of the Devil Himself. I finished off the glass Libby handed me, then two minutes later raced to the bathroom. I’d never felt so awful. My head buzzed like bees had fashioned a hive inside my skull. Even Libby’s cheery singing bored a hole through my cranium in search of the brain crevices.

I had to get back my immortality. Then I’d never have to face the toilet bowl like this again. Tonight, I intended to return to FaeryTown and ransom my soul to the faery.

“I’ve made you special cookies this morning,” Libby called from the bathroom doorway.

Perched before the toilet, I muttered, “No food. Please.”

“They’re hangover cookies,” she said. “My regular chocolate-chip recipe with a touch of magic to take the hurt away and make you feel better. Promise. I’ll leave them in here.” She set the plate on the bedroom vanity and left me to my misery.

From the bathroom doorway I spied the plate, which sat beside the blue feather. That feather was my key to immortality.

But more so? Just imagining the taste of Libby’s delicious treats melting on my tongue made my mouth water. I turned and crawled into the bedroom.

Must. Get. Cookie.

* * *

Transprojectionary dislocation was a mouthful to say and an even bigger spell to accomplish correctly. It sounded simple enough, moving an object through the air with only the power of one’s mind, but it took intense concentration, and I was slightly ADD so concentration was not my forte.

Sadly, we rock stars couldn’t be masters of everything.

Vika’s boyfriend made it look easy. CJ could move vehicles or animals through the air. He had once sent a train car flying through a brick wall. But he’d been practicing dark magic for over a century.

I garnered but two and a half decades to my magical arsenal, so the fact that a grain of salt floated in the air above Reichardt’s new kitchen table now gave me a giddy thrill. I squealed and the salt crystal dropped.

“I did it!”

“That was amazing.”

I spun to find myself in Reichardt’s arms. He’d showered and smelled like bay rum soap—and was standing straight—which said a lot for my hangover cookies.

“How do you feel?”

“Like I was a fool last night. Those cookies are magic.”

“That’s the point. And what do we think of whiskey?”

“Devil’s brew. Good stuff, but I don’t like the way it attacked my better senses. So are you practicing magic?”

“Yes, trying to master moving objects around with my mind.”

“Is that something I used to be able to do?”

“Yes, but don’t let it get you down. You’ll learn so many new skills, all your old tricks will seem boring by comparison.”

“Yes, I imagine scrubbing the tub until it gleams ranks right up there with startling skills.”

“Oh, sweetie.” I bracketed his face with my hands and he winced so I moved them away from the bruise CJ had rightfully left there. “You’re so down on yourself. What can I do to make it better?”

“You have already cured me of a hangover.

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