Love Magic by Angela Kulig

Author:Angela Kulig
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Green Envy Press

CHAPTER 6

Red sky at night, sailors' delight. The day dawned red, and Dalton tried not to think of it as an omen.

It turned his room, the one his mother had richly furnished in shades of mahogany and ice, to the color of old blood.

Red sky at morning, sailors take warning.

In a way, rhymes that lingered such as that held their own kind of magic. If it was a spell, however, he didn't know it.

It was a long time before red melted into a warm butter yellow, but even longer before Dalton would get any sleep.

After they'd all gone to bed, Dalton had laid awake. Nothing had improved. The world still seemed to be holding something back, and Dalton hadn't even dared to change out of this clothing he'd put on just for the coven meeting. It had been a proper outfit then—but it was something else entirely by the morning. Hours of lying on top of his quilts without even removing his boots had taken their toll. His wrinkles now had wrinkles, and he was sure his face didn't look any better. His bags probably had bags, too.

Dalton waited until he felt his mother stirring downstairs before properly rousing himself. He hadn't slept yet, but he didn't think he could. As a small child, he'd been plagued by extreme insomnia. He often dreamed that he found himself lost in a blizzard. Though he lived in the south and had never seen one, he felt as though a terrible storm was coming just for him. His nightmares held howling winds and snow and ice as cutting and cruel as knives. He used to jerk himself awake, just as he dreamed he'd finally succumb to that wicked cold.

It had happened that way for years. Longer, he knew, than he could even remember. Then one awful night, those dreams changed into something worse. No longer was the cold coming just to menace him, but instead, it came for all the people he loved—and in those dreams—he was powerless to stop it.

In real life, however, Dalton was anything but powerless. Eventually, the truth of the dreams manifested, and the meaning made too much sense. The blizzard wasn't coming for Dalton. Dalton was the blizzard, and he had to learn to control it.

Only there were days like this one where he didn't want to check that power. Instead, he wanted to rip the stopper off and turn it loose.

He almost walked out his bedroom door before he remembered the state he was in. Instead, he spelled his bags away. Not perfectly. His mother would suspect if he looked so well rested after the night they all had. She'd worry the dreams had returned, but they hadn't. Those dreams were little more than the boogie man from his childhood. When he'd mastered his power, he'd mastered the nightmares as well.

After his face was passable, Dalton dallied in the shower. That in itself was an exercise in dedication Dalton hadn't been sure he was capable of. He tried to tell himself there was no hurry.

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