Free Engaged off Bourbon Street (Jade Calhoun Short Story, Book 3.5) by Deanna Chase Page A

the white pillar candle resting on the dressing table.
    “Ignite,” I whispered.
    The candlelight flickered to life. Perfect. I moved forward, but just as I reached for the pillar, the flame grew twice as large then split from the wick in four tiny orbs of fire.
    “What the—”
    The orbs shot around the room, circling me. I froze. A second later, they each zoomed to opposite corners of the room, lighting four other white pillar candles. The overhead light went out, and all five candles glowed brightly in the dark room.
    Wow. That was...crazy. All I’d done was light a candle. Not all five. Maybe my power was still haywire after the soul-splitting thing two weeks ago. I didn’t feel any different, though. Well, except for losing my empath ability. I hadn’t felt one outside emotion in days. It was freeing but also weird, as if I’d lost a part of myself.
    I shrugged off the nagging feeling that something had gone wrong. All I’d done was light a few candles. No harm, really. Twenty-two more minutes until the guests arrived. This time when I reached for the candle, nothing out of the ordinary happened. Thank goodness.
    Holding out my arm, I closed my eyes and chanted, “Lost. Found. Lost. Found. Open my sight. Let the lost be found.” Forming a picture of the five ribbon-wrapped bundles of mistletoe in my mind, I commanded, “Reveal yourself!”
    The rustling sound of craft paper filled the room. I opened my eyes. To my right, a white paper bag shimmered with light. I smiled. There they were. “Come to me.” One by one, the pretty little bundles flew out of their bag and landed on the bed in front of me.
    Perfect. I scooped them up, blew out the candles, and ran back down the stairs. “Kane,” I cried. “I need help.” No way was I going back up on that death-trap ladder.
    “I’ve kind of got my hands full,” he yelled from the kitchen.
    The delicious scent of roasted turkey permeated the air. Damn, that man was just about perfect. Gorgeous, rich, exceptional talents in the bedroom, and he cooked. I’d bet he even managed to save my cheesecake.
    “Never mind.” I didn’t need a ladder anyway. I was a witch, after all. Eighteen minutes. No time to mess around. Five bundles. Okay. I placed one on the floor in our foyer, one at the base of the staircase, another under the chandelier in the ballroom, and one in front of the coat closet. And the last bundle was to go in the kitchen over the sink. It was a tradition of my mother’s, one I was all too happy to honor. I set the last one on the dining room table and focused on the first four.
    Instantly, they started to glow with sparkles of light. I raised my hands, and the bundles rose high in the air.
    “Unite,” I demanded.
    Nothing appeared to happen, but when I lowered my arms, all four bundles were suspended exactly where they should be. That was easy. Except they still twinkled with light. Huh. At least they were festive.
    I turned to grab the fifth bundle. “Kane?”
    “Still busy.”
    I slid through the open door and leaned against the frame, smiling as I watched Kane mixing something with the electric beaters. “Whipped cream?” I asked hopefully.
    He cast me a mysterious look and said in a gruff voice, “Come here.”
    How could I resist that? I snuggled up next to him, eyeing the bowl of freshly whipped cream. “Is that for my cheesecake?”
    “No.” He leaned in, nuzzling my ear.
    “Shortcake?”
    “Nope.” His tongue darted out, sending a shiver down my spine.
    “Pie?” I breathed as his teeth scraped my neck.
    He chuckled, his hot breath sending a jolt of anticipation south of my belly button. One arm wrapped around me, dipping me back off my feet into his strong embrace. He scraped the side of the bowl and brought a finger full of fluffy cream to my lips.
    I opened my mouth. Yummy goodness melted on my tongue, eliciting a deep moan from the back of my throat.
    “This,” he said, heat in his rich-chocolate eyes, “is for after