Page 21 of Christmas Magic

“Remember what happened with the blinds?”

“I do. I also remember how you struggled with, but mastered, moving silverware out of the kitchen drawer using your magic. That’s easy for you now, right?”

“Mmm.”

“You can master this, too, with practice. If I sense the snow globe’s going to explode, I’ll use my powers to contain and stop it. Okay?”

Molly gnawed her bottom lip then nodded. “Okay.”

“Take your time. There’s no rush.”

She drew a couple of deep breaths. As he’d taught her, she raised her arms so her palms were facing outward, toward the snow globe. An expression of intense concentration settled on her face.

“Just as when you move the silverware, clear your mind,” he said. “Push aside all other thoughts, so your sole focus is the snow globe.”

She nodded. Her gaze sharpened slightly.

“Now, with your mind, picture the snow lifting from the ground. Feel the gust of wind, the lightness of the snowflakes rising up into the air, the coldness as the flakes spin and swirl.”

He searched the air between them for a hint of magical energy; the invisible power that should be flowing from her hands. None.

“Nothing’s happening,” she whispered.

“Not yet. Keep trying.”

Her throat moved with a swallow. He sensed her confidence wavering.

He really wanted her to succeed tonight. She needed to make more progress with her magic, and not just because of The Dealer. Julius had told him so.

Her gaze sharpened further. She really was trying. Yet, perhaps her magic needed a boost from a different kind of motivation.

When she’d saved his life months ago, she’d found the power to do so in her love for him. “I’d like you to think of the two of us,” he murmured. “Imagine we are the couple in the snow globe. We’re standing in each other’s arms, looking into each other’s eyes, and just about to kiss.”

She smiled. “I can easily picture that.”

“Think of the cold wind moving around us. Think of the weightlessness of the snowflakes; the frosty air brushing your skin.”

The base of the snow globe grew warm in his hands.

“Great! Now, think about the iciness of the flakes.”

The glittery snowflakes in the globe stirred the tiniest bit.

“That’s it! Now, think about our lips touching; the snow rising from the ground to swirl around us—”

The snow flickered: Once. Twice—

It went still.

Molly groaned, and her arms dropped to her sides. “I can’t.”

“I know you can.” He set down the globe, went to her, and drew her into his arms. “You have to believe, though, that you can do it.”

Tears glistened in her eyes. “I can destroy window treatments without even trying, but I can’t even move fake snowflakes in a snow globe.”

“You’ll figure it out.”

Sadness touched her gaze. “I’d better.”