Page 78 of A Shade of Myself
“That’s on you. Hypothetically, if a demon casts an illusion, are there limits on it, or is it widespread? And how does it differ from an Ohrist with illusion magic?”
Nav wrapped the head up in the towel, tying a knot in the top to keep it from rolling out. “Both have limitations, but demons can hold illusions for much longer. Months, even years, versus weeks.”
So, depending on when Giselle forgot about Rory, I still couldn’t narrow it down. “But illusions can be broken, right? I did.”
He picked the bundle up and slung it over his shoulder. “True, but I don’t know if that was a Banim Shovavim thing or because as Sadie’s mother, you wholeheartedly rejected any reality in which she was dead.”
Giselle had mentioned feeling like her life had switched tracks. A growing itch that something was wrong. “Could someone with illusion magic not make it stick all the way? Make the victim feel like there was a splinter in their brain, an itch they couldn’t scratch?”
“For sure. It’s a great way to drive someone crazy.”
“That’s sadistic.”
“If it’s a demon, poppet? That’s what they do.” He shrugged and headed for the front door. “If I learn anything else, I’ll call.”
I shut the door behind him, then winced. Marsha. I ran into the living room. “How are you doing?”
She sat in a chair rolling the peeled-off wine label between her fingers, but when her eyes met mine, they were clear. “You know how sometimes you really need a good orgasm?”
“Yeah.” Please don’t get TMI with me. I was far too sober for that.
“I needed that.” She flexed her fingers. “Not necessarily the demon part but using my magic.”
“You’ve been hiding it?”
“Sort of? I didn’t think of it that way, but my husband is a Sapien so I put my powers away.”
“For how long?”
“Ten years.”
“I hid mine for almost thirty.”
“Whoa. Want a drink?” She picked up the half-empty bottle, then immediately set it down with a grimace. “I wouldn’t recommend this.”
“I’m good.” What were the odds of Marsha and me having magic-hiding of all things in common? No wonder she was so anal and controlling. She’d had to keep a tight hold on her powers for a decade.
She hiccuped then covered her mouth with her hand. “What’s your magic?”
Book club was over, so if she was prejudiced against my kind, what would it matter? I’d never have to see her again.
“I’m Banim Shovavim.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “That explains a lot.”
“Right,” I said tightly.
She laughed and nudged my shoulder with hers. “Kidding. I couldn’t give a shit. I’m just glad to have one less person to hide this from.”
“My ex-husband is Sapien. So’s my daughter.”
“You got through their perception filters?”
“I had help. You think your husband—”
Marsha shook her head firmly. “No. Richard’s a great guy, but this would break him.” She stood up. “Speaking of which, I’ll call him to give me a ride home. I’ve imposed on you long enough.”
This was it. The graceful uncoupling I’d been longing for. Marsha would drive off into the sunset and I’d never have to think about her and her myriad of rules again.
