Banishing the Dark (Arcadia Bell #4)(21)

“Hush. I don’t need much Heka for this.” I reached for the nearest current and gave it a delicate tug. Electricity flooded into me, nice and easy. It kindled my Heka reserves and created the more powerful energy I needed to charge the symbols. After setting the tip of my caduceus staff on the outer ring of the ward, I exhaled and pushed Heka into it. Like a lit fuse, white light sped along the sigils, giving life to the magical equation.

“There,” I said. “Easy-peasy.”

Lon looked me over and sighed. “If you feel any unusual pains, tell me immediately.”

“Are you sure you’re not feeling any pains? Because you’re being awfully weird.”

He didn’t respond. Just muttered to himself and brooded while he closed the curtains on the windows and checked the door lock. When he was satisfied, he crossed the room and pulled something out of his luggage, a black leather bag. Out came a camera.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Making a record that I can refer to,” he said without emotion as he changed out the lens on his camera. “Take off your clothes.”

My jaw unhinged.

“How else am I going to see if you have any special markings?” he asked without turning around. I hated when he did that. Made me feel as if he had eyes in the back of his head. “The times you transmutated wearing jeans, your tail ripped right through them. So unless you want to shop for hiker’s shorts tomorrow, you’re going to want to take off your pants.”

Oh, he’d like that, wouldn’t he? I might have been fuzzy on a few details about Lon, but I definitely remembered standing in the doorway in my underwear the first time he came to my house and his “nice ass” comment.

“Do you know how many bodies I’ve seen?” he said, still not turning around. “Models aren’t shy, believe me.”

Anger warmed my chest. “And this is supposed to make me feel better how, exactly?”

“Everyone’s imperfect. I’m the one who has to Photoshop out the blemishes and knobby knees.” He switched on the camera and fiddled with the settings. “Let’s just get this over with so we can eat.”

Had he heard my stomach growling? What a cheap ploy. I supposed when I really thought about it, he was right about needing to see all of me. Hell, I didn’t exactly have a clear idea of what I looked like in that form, other than from a quick glance or two at my reflection.

Fine. Starting with my shoes, I systematically stripped down. At least he was polite enough not to watch. The entire time, I reminded myself I could trust Lon. He wasn’t going to be looking at me as if I were a three-layer cake, which was pretty much how I’d been looking at him.

“You can leave your bra and panties on if it makes you feel better,” he said.

Oh.

I glanced at said items on the floor. Too late now. And with my luck, he’d catch me trying to put them back on. I licked dry lips and quietly shuffled onto the tarp. At least the magick was solid; I could definitely feel a soft prickling sensation when I stood inside the ward, much in the same way I felt electricity.

If that were all I felt, it would have been fine. But my mind had emptied itself to make room for all the blind panic it was brewing up. It was as if the rational part of my brain had woken up and realized that it had fallen asleep and left the stupid, foolish part of my brain in charge, and now the house was on fire.

“I want to see you shift,” he said. “Might learn something we didn’t know.”

“All right,” I said, voice cracking. “I’m ready.”

Lon turned around. When his head tilted up, his lips parted.

Just for a moment, my shield of panic dropped, and I could have sworn no one had ever looked at me like that in my entire life. But maybe I just wanted to believe I’d seen something more than I had. Because when I blinked, all I saw was his usual poker face.

He stopped in front of the tarp, expectant, not saying a word. I wasn’t sure what freaked me out more: standing in front of him naked or standing in front of that camera. “This better not end up on the internet,” I mumbled. Then I shut my eyes to concentrate.

Most times I’d called up the Moonchild power, I’d done it in a panic and under duress. But now I reached for it gingerly. The same instincts I used to sniff out electricity kicked in, and it took some effort to push past that and aim for the bigger source of power. It came rushing at me, fierce and chaotic. I did my best to slow it down. A little like trying to reel in a shark instead of a trout. Hard to do that delicately, but I managed.

The power streamed into me. I opened my eyes.

A silver light tinted my vision, lit by the fog of my expanding halo. Everything was now bathed in an eerie quicksilver glow, including Lon, whose eyes followed the chain of sensations I’d experienced only a few times: a strange coolness spreading across my skin, the pressure of horns springing from my head, and the disconcerting slither of a long reptilian tail as it tickled the back of my legs.

“Don’t panic,” Lon said. His voice sounded muffled and distant. “And don’t try to will any magick into action.”

“Oh . . . God,” I whispered, suddenly feeling as if I wouldn’t be able to stop myself.

“You’re safe. I’m here. Just breathe. Long breaths in through your nose, slow exhalations through your mouth.”