Believe the Magic Page 14

  “No and no, you sick pervert. No brother and I wouldn’t even think of…doing, ugh…that’s just wrong. I can’t believe you said that.”

  He laughed and started to climb the stairs. I sidestepped to prevent him from getting around me. Juvenile behavior, but the best way to beat one was to join him. He pushed around me anyway.

  “What’s going to prevent me from following you up?”

  “I lock the door.”

  “I’m magic, ding-a-ling. I can undo the lock.”

  “That’s why you can’t come up. You’ll try some fancy trick. No magic upstairs.”

  “Why?” I drug it out and managed to sound quite frustrated. Well, I was!

  “They can track you and find you if you perform tricks. So keep them all in the lower level.”

  “Who? Who are you worried about?”

  “Me,” came the little voice inside my head.

  I dropped my arms and walked back over in front of the fire.

  “Hey,” Quentin called. He stood on the second step and scratched his head.

  “What?” I turned and gave my best wide-eyed look.

  He shook his head and growled. My eyes would pop out if I opened them any farther. Aren’t women supposed to be able to change their minds?

  He retreated upstairs. His thoughts went something like this: “Psycho-brain-dead wench.” It didn’t hurt my feelings one bit. I’d been called worse. By him, even.

  Too tired to use magic, I tossed another log on the fading flames. Wherever I went next, it was going to have to be warm.

  “Are your bags packed?” Sam asked.

  “Huh?” I had nothing with me.

  “While he’s upstairs, I’m going to step out. Then we’re out of here.”

  “We’re leaving?” What about Quentin? And why didn’t this prospect make me feel like doing cartwheels?

  “Fear of the unknown.”

  “Huh?”

  God, he was confusing.

  “The unknown. That’s why you’re apprehensive about leaving.”

  Actually, no. I was sad to miss more incredible sex with Quentin.

  “Sit down. This will be draining for both of us.”

  Great. No strength to fight it. With my luck and memory of my constant gripes about the temperature, Sam would drop us at the gates of hell. And we’d promptly go up in smoke.

  “Not quite.”

  Oh, that was reassuring.

  “On the count of three,” he commanded. I was reminded of the Lethal Weapon movie where Mel Gibson argued with Danny Glover about whether it was one-two-three and then go, or just one-two-go.

  Sam didn’t wait. He just went.

  Was the marathon over? And why couldn’t I lift my arms? I felt the strangest pull. Did someone just remove all my bones? It was too tough to think. I slid toward the darkness that beckoned me.

  “Ella,” Quentin’s worried voice echoed through my head. Hangover? Did he have to yell? “Sorry, I guess you’re finally awake. You must have been really tired. I’ve been calling you for almost ten minutes.”

  “Really?” I forced myself to check out the log I’d hoisted onto the fire. It was in the same place and barely charred. The fire was crackling right along. How long had I been out?

  Quentin settled down next to me and stretched his long legs in front of him. Any second now his toes would catch fire. Ten little candles all in a row.

  “Hey, don’t you think about it. You still trying to get even with me for not letting you upstairs?” He pulled his feet back.

  “Not really.”

  “I don’t believe it.”

  “That makes two of us.”

  His laughter warmed me much more effectively than the fire. It went right to the core. He tilted my chin upwards with one searing touch. His lips claimed mine and the cold disappeared.

  I’d never get tired of tasting this man. I swore he could bring me to the edge of insanity with just his mouth. His hand slid down my throat and rubbed my breast through the thin material of my shirt. I clawed at my clothing, wanting his hands on me. The through-the-shirt cop-a-feel was for high school. I needed skin on skin.

  He smiled against my lips. “I love—”

  I nearly peed my pants.

  “—your imagination.”

  I breathed a sigh of relief. I could handle it if he loved my body or my imagination. Even though I didn’t think Quentin was the type to love anyone’s brain. I was not ready for him to love me.

  Especially when I know I didn’t, per se, love him back. Oh, I liked, and I lusted. But nope, no undying devotion. There was this little element of mistrust that got in the way.

  Thank God he wasn’t tuning into that broadcast of true confession radio. I just wondered if the other visitor was.

  Shit!

  I pushed Quentin back. His hands slid from my skin. It was almost painful.

  “Ella?” Quentin looked straight into my eyes. The green was clear and bright like wonderfully fertilized grass. And probably just as fake.

  “I, uh, thought I heard something upstairs.”

  Quentin held a finger to my lips. I was all set to launch into a spiel about having sex without protection and not wanting to take any more chances.

  Something was up there. The loud metallic crash caused me to jump two feet to the right. Quentin was just as startled. I nearly laughed at his shocked expression. If he’d have been a cat his tail would have been fluffed to the size of his body.

  He held a finger to his own lips, but bypassed the “shh.” Then he pretended to zip his lips. Yes, Quentin. I get the picture.

  He looked ridiculous tiptoeing up the steps. I should have shushed him when he slid the bolt on the door. I just smiled to myself. Although it was unexpected, I knew exactly who had caused the noise.

  A hand clamped over my mouth and spun me around. I knew better than to scream.

  “Close your eyes and hold on.” I wrapped my arms around his neck. It felt like I was once again seven years old and had fallen asleep on the couch. Daddy carried me to bed. I was safe.

  “I’m not your father.”

  “Shh. Close enough.”

  There was no ceremony, no bright lights or colorful flashes. He put one hand to my throat and we were gone.

  I sniffed. What was that? Expensive perfume stung my nose. And a faint scent of flowers. I hid my nose against his chest to ward off the sharp odor. Only Sam didn’t smell the same.

  I opened one eye and looked at the chest from mere inches. White dress shirt. Black bowtie. Tuxedo?

  I looked down at my own self. I was covered in white lace.

  This magic stuff was threatening the integrity of my underwear. There had been just way too many instances where I had been on the verge of needing Depends. I needed a drink. I wasn’t a drinker, but God, did I need one now.

  I lifted my left hand and admired the rock. Not bad. The guy apparently had money. And muscle. He was climbing the stairs like I didn’t weigh more than a feather.

  It was a shame, though, the long fingers and pastel pink nails didn’t belong to me. Sam didn’t look much like Sam either. But hmmmm, he was younger and quite handsome, in a clean-shaven executive-type sort of way. I mean, if one was into that type.

  I guess it could have been worse. “Sam, what the heck, did we crash the wedding party?”

  “Ah, yes. I believe that’s the correct terminology.”

  “And where are we going?” The bodies we inhabited were entirely being controlled by the people who owned them. We were just along for the ride.

  “Looks like the bridal suite.”

  “No way.”

  Sam groaned. “It’s not us, Ella. It’s them. It’s their wedding night.”

  “I’m not sticking around for the fireworks.”

  Sam deep booming laugh filled my head.

  “Follow my lead.”

  Sigh. I gritted my teeth, but not the bride’s, and let the newlyweds talk. When she giggled with a hideous high-pitched sound, I
told Sam I was out of there.

  “Let her go into the bathroom and get dressed up for her husband. As soon as she comes out, we’ll leave.”

  What a plan.

  It must have been the overwhelming stress of the day, I decided. We stood over the sleeping figures. We were invisible, of course.

  “Poor suckers. Didn’t get much of a wedding night,” I relayed to Sam via our wonderful mental telepathy.

  “They’ll make up for it. He’s one horny bastard.”

  I clamped my hand over my mouth to keep from laughing. “So what’s the plan?”

  “Get out of here and find Bergestein’s suite.”

  I gasped. What would we want to do that for?

  “See if we can find where he’s keeping the gems. Maybe get to them. Take his, relieve his employees of theirs. Save the world type of thing.”

  “That sounded like a Quentin answer.”

  “I’m afraid I wouldn’t trust Quentin to save the world.”

  Me either. Just himself. I glanced toward the door. “So, do we just open it and walk out?”

  Sam gripped my shoulders. “Let me see you.”

  I did the heel click thing. Why change? It worked. I couldn’t see Sam, but I just knew he’d rolled his eyes back in his head.

  His hand was warm on my neck. He moved the gems. The heat was gone. I felt very alone for that moment.

  I heard a rustling, then felt his breath on my cheek. I was curious, but not afraid. “Sam?” I whispered.

  “You’ll need your magic strength at maximum. I’ve got the beads almost touching. Just to prevent an accidental meeting of the gems, I’m going to tie a piece of ribbon between them.”

  “To prevent me from hopping?” Yeah, I was suspicious.

  “No, to prevent the others from sending you to someplace you don’t want to be.” His voice lowered. “Trust me. There are places on this earth that would make hell seem like a trip to Mexico in the dead of summer.”

  “Oh.” I lifted my chin. Save me from that, by all means.

  “Are you going to teach me to jump? You know, in case I get separated or end up in a bad situation?” I figured going in without this knowledge would be like a cop on a stake-out without his gun.

  “All you need to know is this. Since you’re fond of the Wizard moves, touch the gems, click your heels and say, ‘I want to go home.’“

  “Where will I go?” I just knew my apartment had been emptied and re-rented already. I glanced at the sleeping couple. I sure didn’t want to find myself in another “oops” like this one.

  “Nope. That’s not your home anymore. As long as you stay true to the cause and don’t let greed dirty your heart, you’ll be safe on the island.”

  “Where Lou—your father, is?”

  “Affirmative.”

  “Does this island have a name?”

  “Fairyland.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  “I am.”

  “Dang it, Sam.” But I realized what he was giving me. A one way ticket to safety. “And thanks.”

  “One other thing,” he said.

  “Huh?”

  “Stay invisible.” I faded into transparency. I still thought that trick alone was the best magic.

  His fingers closed over mine, like a father leading a child.

  “Stop thinking that way.”

  “I can’t help it!” I followed him to the door. And waited. He was going to open it, wasn’t he?

  “Come on.”

  “Where?”

  My fingers were pulled until they rapped against the door. I immediately checked to make sure the couple was still out cold. They were, thankfully.

  “Sam?”

  I felt his touch on my forearm. “What happened, Ella?”

  C’mon, really. We both knew what happened. Walk through walls? Who’d have thought?

  “So Quentin didn’t teach you anything new?”

  “Apparently not,” I replied. “I just worked on what I already know. And made fire.”

  He groaned. His fingers cut into my arm. “Think of yourself as water and pour yourself through the door.” He tugged me forward until I was staring directly at the intimidating piece of wood.

  I was air and it was a screen. I took a step, and never let go of my vise grip on Sam’s hand. The transition felt like an involuntary shudder. I shook if off and found I was in the hall.

  Color me pink. I did it.

  But just like all the other amazing magic I’d been taught, it had vicious side effects. This feat made me feel like I’d been run over. No, not by a Mac truck, although that cliché was easy and my brain was tired. Besides, if I’d have settled on the big semi, it would mean I felt dead. It had to be something more like a snowmobile. Something that would come around for another shot at me.

  “Don’t let your guard down,” Sam’s mental command invaded my vision of a single headlight and lots of white stuff. Then I realized that was the point.

  “Now what?” I knew the hallway wasn’t our final destination. That would be too easy.

  “Listen for Bergestein’s thoughts.”

  I strained to hear, but hadn’t heard so much as a cricket chirp when Sam pushed my shoulder. “This way.”

  He must have had his tuned in better. Off on a new adventure, I thought. Cops and Robbers. Or wait, maybe it was Cowboys and Indians. It didn’t matter. I just wanted to be on the winning side.

  Sam had resumed his lead position, and I followed by no choice of my own. He had my wrist to keep me from getting lost. It is a little tricky to follow an invisible man.

  We used hallways and doorless walls for our marathon run. All I could hope for was that we got there fast. I was a car out of gas.

  “Hold on,” I gasped to Sam, dropping my free hand to my knees. I bent double to catch my breath.

  We were in the pool area. I could hear the high-pitched screams of laughter and see the dancing reflections of the pool lights on the ceiling. The strong chlorine smell burned my nose and made my sinuses rebel. My breathing passages closed up faster than a nun’s knees. I was gasping for air from acute sinusitis compounded by running far more than my body could handle at one time. I needed to rest. Just for a moment.

  Blinding lights and a sharp pain on the back of my head knocked every bit of the precious oxygen from my lungs. As I gasped I struggled to form a rational thought. Sam hadn’t hit me. Someone else was behind me. Someone who wasn’t our friend.

  In the splash of the water I heard a voice, more like the echo of one. “One gem.”

  Lou?

  I gritted my teeth and swung my elbow back, surprising my attacker enough for him to emit a loud “oomph” and step backwards. Unfortunately for me, he still had my hair wound around his hand.

  He was going to decapitate me for my gems. I felt the blood rush from my face. I yanked my fingers from Sam’s and clawed at my neck. White hot, the gems burned my fingers and my throat. I could handle the pain. I wasn’t ready to die.

  Please, please, dear God, save me. For one who hid from organized religion as an adult, I sure knew where to turn when I needed help. I just hoped He could see me.

  The leather snapped. I mouthed a thank you and grabbed for the gem that had been twisted to the front of my throat. It scorched my hand. I gritted my teeth. It was going to burn right through my palm. I could tell.

  Whoever it was must have decided I wasn’t worth killing. He grabbed for the leather strap. Somewhere during the scuffle I had either lost the invisibility or he was able to see through the magic. Then again, as hot as the gems were, he probably found the strap by heat alone.

  I held tight as he jerked. The gems were designed to slide on the thin leather. I winced as the strap cut into my fingers, but held tight.

  I didn’t know whether he pushed me or I fell. He’d let go, at least. The fading footsteps meant he thought he’d gotten what he wanted.

  “Sam,” I whispered. My voice sounded foreign. And it hurt to swallow. All I
wanted to do was curl up into a ball under one of the tables in the darkened area and cry. I didn’t want to follow bad guys who followed me. And then tried to kill me.

  A thick shape knelt before me. I blinked, but could only see his silhouette. I shrank away. What if he’d come back, realizing he only had one?

  Sam’s soothing voice came through like salve on the wound. I relaxed against him. “Did he get them?” His fingers traced the tender skin of my neck.

  “One.”

  I opened my fist and heard the tiny ball of crystal roll onto the ceramic tile. The darkness took over.

  I faded back to life. And it wasn’t pretty. My head had grown to at least five times its normal size. Beyond the ringing in my ears, I heard thumps. Footsteps, maybe? They sounded hollow.

  I was afraid to open my eyes. Scared of what I would see. The cold chills torturing me were not the first clue I wasn’t where I wanted to be. The air was stale, oily smelling.

  “I thought you said she had the other gem.” The voice was sandpaper.

  “It wasn’t on the rope. Just the one.” His voice grated on my nerves. It was high and whiney. I pictured some scar-faced coward hunched in the corner as the boss-man stood over him. Served his ass right for trying to kill me.

  “You should have finished her off and cleaned the area. How could you not see the gem glow?”

  I tried not to smile, but I pictured the little worm wetting his pants. “I…uh, well, maybe she fell on it. Or something. I—I…I didn’t see it.”

  Meant Sam got it. I hoped.

  “You didn’t see it? Did you notice you only had one? Did you even look?” A loud thump preceded a louder crash. Oops, one less goon to worry about.

  “What are you smiling about, there, missy?”

  I swallowed, hoping the bitter pill in my throat was just fear. Then I choked. I coughed until I nearly retched. I must have aspirated enough spit to fill half my lungs.

  I’d made it alive through all this and I was going to die from this? My hands were tied above my head. I was flat on my back. It wasn’t so funny anymore. My eyes watered. The tears streamed down my face and into my hair. I couldn’t sit up, I couldn’t breathe.

  “Fools,” Sandpaper Voice muttered. “Going to let her live when I say die and let her die when I say keep her alive for bait.” He yanked at the rope around my wrists. It was obvious he didn’t care if I had permanent burns on my flesh from the friction of his actions. It was equally clear he wasn’t worried about me for more than the bait he mentioned. He slapped me on the back and I thought surely I’d cough up a lung, or two, maybe my spleen. And gee, what else? A pancreas? Don’t I need that?