Believe the Magic Page 20

  My own eyebrows became one. “Why?” Did he suspect what I was starting to fear? I swallowed and barely kept from putting my hand over my stomach. How many days…weeks since this adventure started? Did I need to worry?

  “You and Quentin will need to kiss and make up. You need to keep up your portion of the bargain.”

  I wanted to throw up. And it had nothing to do with hormones.

  He laughed. “Take a nap, Ella. Quentin will be in later. Oh, and we’re downsizing. He’ll be sharing your suite with you from now on.”

  I don’t think so.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “Hey, it wasn’t my idea.” Quentin stood staring at the line I’d drawn across the carpet with talcum powder. “And what about the bathroom?”

  “You control the outside door, I control the bathroom. Ask first. I said I didn’t like you and don’t trust you. I’m not that cruel.”

  “The hell you aren’t.”

  I fisted my hands in my hair. “Why me? What have I done? I just want to be left alone and now you’re accusing me of being cruel? It was you who betrayed me here, Quentin, boy. And if you don’t get a grip it’ll be a bit more than a remote you’re dodging.”

  I sidestepped into the bathroom. Cold water, yeah. Maybe diving head first into an icy lake would help me wash away the unexplained guilt I felt for talking to him like that.

  A bath sounded nice. Warm, no, hot water would work better. I flipped on the faucet and stripped down. I could hear Quentin fooling with the television. “Good luck,” I muttered.

  The smile on my face faded as I noticed the strap around my ankle. Now what? Last thing I needed was to tempt him with it. Would he take it and use it if he had free access? I didn’t know.

  With an eye on the door, I slid the gem off and tossed the string in the trash. Hmm. I rolled the gem between my fingers as my eyes darted around the room like a hummingbird with a sugar high. Where would I hide it?

  Quentin pushed open the door.

  The gem squirted from my hand like a slippery grape.

  “What was that?” he asked, leaning against the doorframe with arms folded across his chest.

  I swallowed, trying to force down the thoughts of being enveloped in those arms. “Uh…my…uh.” I spied the blue semi-transparent bath beads on the shelf. “It was one of those…I squirt them into the tub. They’re filled with bath oil.”

  “Uh, sure.”

  “Do you mind? I’m trying to take a bath here. I told you to ask if you needed to use the bathroom, not just waltz in when you felt like it.”

  I took a deep breath and tried not to flinch while his eyes took a walk all over my body. Thank God he was a horny male. My nakedness seemed to distract him from the gem. I thought I was going to melt under those smoldering green eyes. And I don’t like this man, remember?

  “Hello? Done staring? I want to bathe here.”

  His eyes crept back up to mine and he winked. “Go ahead, get into the bath.”

  I reached up to the container of bath beads. I knocked it over. I hope it looked like I did it accidentally. “Oh crap.”

  Little blue orbs scattered like ants at a picnic. No, wait—didn’t ants do the single file thing?

  Didn’t matter.

  “Go on,” I shooed him out and pushed the door closed. “I’ll get this.”

  I picked them all up, including the real McCoy. It should be safe amidst a bunch of “Spring Rain” scented bath balls, right?

  The hot water was heavenly. I sank to my shoulders and tried to remember how peaceful real life had been. I tried not to ask myself what the heck I was going to do. Could I just go along with this and wait for a way out? I felt so…useless. But Sam had said Lou was coming. A storm was on its way.

  My pickling was almost complete. I was almost ready to call it a success when I heard the footsteps approaching. And damn, the bubbles were gone. Not that it mattered.

  The knob turned slowly. Guess he hadn’t expected me to hear him coming. I pushed against the door mentally.

  “Ella?”

  “Go away. Can’t I relax in peace?”

  “Bergestein dropped off something for you.”

  “I don’t want it.”

  “From my understanding, it wasn’t an option.”

  “So you take it, I won’t tell.”

  “Damn it, Ella.” Quentin gave the door a good shove. I wasn’t expecting him to be so forceful. I fell back into the water as the door banged open.

  Quentin had changed. Clothes that is. I still couldn’t and wouldn’t trust him enough to believe anything that came out of his mouth. But he stood before me in neat black trousers, a charcoal mock turtleneck and a black blazer. I nearly whistled.

  Good thing I wasn’t a man or he’d be able to see my physical reaction to him. Of course, if I was a man, I wouldn’t react like that, now would I?

  What really made me catch my breath and forget all my modesty was the black tether necklace in his left hand.

  Gems.

  “What are those for?”

  “A gift,” he said. “But you have to keep up your part of the bargain.”

  He repeated it. It wasn’t said in any realm of enticement. No twinkle in his eye.

  “Are you aware of the bargain?” I narrowed my eyes. I had to be sure. Oh, the conspiracy of it all.

  “No, though I find it quite amusing you’ve gotten to bargaining with our leader.”

  “He’s not our leader and I haven’t agreed to anything.” I had a feeling Mr. B created this little bargain because he wanted to see how high and far he could get his minions to jump. Clearly having an heir wasn’t so important he’d tell Quentin about it. Not that I was in a hurry to make it happen, either.

  “Oh?” His eyebrows shot up. I started shivering. He’d better not be reading my mind.

  “It’s time you leave. I need to get dressed.”

  The gems lay sparkling on the counter, winking at me as I slid up my panties. How did I know they weren’t tiny cameras?

  I didn’t. But at this stage of the game, there was little I did know. Suddenly Ella the captive has been provided with magic. Go figure.

  I reached for my bra and started hooking it when I remembered I hadn’t been wearing a black one. I glanced at my underwear. Matching black. Great, now someone was pulling a clothing switcheroo. Would have been nice if they’d have brought the entire outfit in. Now I had to go let Quentin watch me get dressed. This had to be Mr. B’s doing. He wanted me to tempt Quentin.

  As I expected, Quentin was sitting on my bed. He had totally ignored the dividing line, but at least he’d made my bed. Magic probably.

  “Where’s my clothes?”

  Without as much as a peep he pointed to the chair. I lifted the outfit that matched Quentin’s. It was tailored a little more feminine, but it still looked way too gangsterish to me.

  “Where’s my jeans?”

  He shrugged.

  “I’m not into dressing like twins. Where’s my clothes?” I stomped over to the closet and flung it open.

  Empty.

  Completely empty. Bare. Nothing. Nil.

  “What’s going on?

  Another shrug. “Orders are getting passed down, I haven’t gotten to talk to Bergestein.”

  “But…he gave you the gems for me. Why?”

  “Messenger. He said we’d need them. I got some too.”

  “I thought you were some kind of right-hand-man, what gives?” I put my hands on my hips. My bare hips. I looked down. Here I was doing an underwear commercial for him after vowing to tease him with just a glance. Forehead slapping time. Only I was more interested in what was going on.

  I pulled on the clothes. “Well?”

  “I guess he didn’t need my extra input for this decision.”

  Translation, Mr B. knows Quentin’s not entirely on his side. Interesting.

  Gems meant I could jump. I could leave. Go. I fingered the beads and looked toward the window.

  “Ella, I
can’t let you do that. Don’t even think about it.”

  “Why?”

  “It was part of my orders.”

  “Orders? You’re taking orders? You just said you didn’t know anything.”

  “I was just told that you have to use your magic sparingly and I should keep an eye on you.”

  “How do you intend to make sure I abide by these ridiculous rules?”

  He smiled. A sexy, twinkle-in-his-eyes grin that had me buttoning my blazer.

  This was torture. Thank you, Mr. B.

  I went back into the bathroom and surveyed the clothes. Why I continued to be surprised they fit well and were actually flattering, I’ll never know.

  The beads, I realized, were knock-offs. They were smaller, and cloudy. Generic all right. Obviously there had to be more than ten gems in the world…even the guys at Disneyland had some. So clones like these were very readily available. I should’ve added two plus two a long time ago.

  I tied the tether around my neck as snug as I could. I debated on the spacing. Crap. I was a basket case over nothing. I gave them full power and tucked them beneath the turtleneck.

  Then I glanced up at the bath beads. Decision, decisions.

  “Ella, are you okay? We’ve got things to do.”

  Things to do? Well, it’d save this gal from dying of boredom. “Give me a minute.”

  I slid out the cosmetics and tried to look the part. What part, I didn’t know, but certainly the dramatic outfit deserved a little mascara. Once my lips were pouting and wine-colored, I snapped off the lipstick and stuck the faux bath bead—the legitimate gem—into the tube. Mission accomplished.

  A big sigh and I was ready. I opened the door talking, “Quentin, where are—”

  He was gone.

  “Quentin?”

  Fine. Something was going on and I was going to figure it out. And then maybe jump the sinking ship. Hmm. Ship. Cruise. Why wait?

  I glanced from side to side from the corners of my eyes. Quentin could be invisible, reading my thoughts. Heck, so could a half a dozen other magic men.

  Too bad.

  I jumped.

  For my first solo flight, it wasn’t bad. Of course, I hadn’t really mapped out a destination, so I did have some trepidation as to my luck. But it held.

  I was securely hidden in the body of a middle aged woman on the sun deck of a giant floating city. Wow. I’d booked a few dozen cruises a year, but had never expected the majestic size of this place.

  This was like an Annabelle, I wasn’t controlling anything, although I could influence my host to react. She didn’t need to react right now. I was absorbing enough of her sensation of warm sun beating against my flesh. The breeze was wonderful. It was cool, fresh, but made the temperature perfect. I eyed the waiter as he walked by with a colorful arrangement of frozen drinks on his tray. Strawberry Daiquiri. Yeah.

  So maybe I did plant the seed, but she raised her hand and summoned the hot little Love Boat character to bring her, “One of those red drinks with an umbrella.”

  I did a mental eye roll. Hey, at least I wasn’t stuck in the waiter’s body. The last thing I wanted to do was work on my vacation.

  It took three hours and the lobster look to realize the error of my ways. Now, even the wonderful breeze hurt.

  I was lonely. Dot, short for Dorothy, I imagined, was having a blast, despite the burn. I think she liked it when the fifty-something spare-tire carrying steward offered to coat her body with something soothing. I pretended it was Quentin’s hands.

  I missed him. I couldn’t trust him, really didn’t know him, but I’d managed to defy all I knew and fall in love with him. Since I had time to think, I tried to rationalize it.

  Sure, sex was great. But it wasn’t everything. It was the attention. Like I mattered to him. He made sure to include me and never really put me down. Sure, he joked—a lot, but it was almost as if…he respected me.

  And truth was I was kind of impressed with his drive. Whether I agreed, he was going after what he wanted. He always did. And it didn’t seem to matter what price he had to pay.

  Apparently my rambling had tired out my host. Lulled her into sleepy-land. When her dreams turned R-rated and involved the steward and the drink boy, I had to get out.

  So I did.

  My black penny loafers clicked together, just to insure my invisibility. I was still in the black mobster looking uniform. And the gems, all three of them, were still in place.

  Not bad for a novice alone in the world, I decided. Not bad at all.

  I slid into the hallway and found my way up on deck. The nighttime blanket above me had been inset with thousands of diamonds. The air was clean, fresh, with only the slightest hint of salt. Paradise.

  A perfect place for a honeymoon. The piped-in music was muted, but expertly chosen. A light tinkling of piano and horn, bluesy without being sad. Mood music, and me without a date.

  A shifting shadow had me jerking my head over my shoulder. I realized I would always be on the run. My magic left me traceable. I wasn’t safe, even here.

  “Lou?” I hummed, walking toward the guardrail. “Lou?”

  A porpoise jumped and squeaked. A few other people who’d chosen to enjoy the night gasped and pointed.

  It was stupid to think he’d answer me. Not here, not like this.

  My best bet was to find a place to sleep and think when the magic of the night wasn’t so thick.

  I turned back toward the empty chairs the sunbathers used. And ran smack into a wall of invisible bodies.

  “Son of a bitch,” I swore. “What now?”

  I didn’t recognize the voice that soured a lovely evening. “Bergestein isn’t real happy with you.”

  Was I supposed to care? “Why, did he want to come along? I’m sorry, but you see, it was a last minute flight, I couldn’t pass up the price for the tickets.” I couldn’t help it; I wasn’t going back without a fight. And what better way to slip on the boxing gloves but with a bit of sass.

  I failed miserably.

  “Pick her up,” Mr. Voice ordered one of the men.

  Something flashed in my head. Something amidst the store of cold sweat that was being pumped to my armpits and the mush I call brain. Something about home. Something about…

  I grabbed my neck and clicked my heels. “Home!”

  Chapter Fifteen

  I floated up to the beach on the gentle waves. My hair was encrusted with sand and seaweed and I just knew there were creatures sharing my clothes. Relieving myself of them was first priority. Then I could figure out where I had washed ashore.

  I shuddered when a small sized lobster-looking character fell out of my shirt as I shook it out. Ewww. Those pincers would have hurt if it had wanted to hold on to something. I peered down the neckline to make sure his brothers weren’t hanging on for dear life.

  Nope. The coast was clear.

  Now what? I looked up to the pin prick high on the orange rock wall.

  I tried to push myself up off the sand. No go. Hovering about eight inches up and being able to hold myself there for mere seconds was not going to get me up there.

  I trudged over to the base of the sheer cliff. It was smooth as marble. So climbing wasn’t an option unless I developed suction cup feet. Nope, wasn’t wishing that on myself. I didn’t trust my magic to work well enough.

  Well, could I go through? I really wasn’t good at it, but at least I’d know. Air through a screen, water through a colander. I pushed my hands in before me. Hmm. So far, so good. They tingled like the feeling you get when your foot starts getting the circulation back after falling asleep.

  I was up to my shoulders. I stuck my face in, eyes open wide. Oh. My. God.

  “Ella? Ella?” I felt a slap against my cheek and an echo. The voice came from heaven. I’d died. I knew it. I’d gone too far into the wall and shed my human skin.

  “Wake up. Open your eyes, move already!” The voice was frantic. “Shit, Ella, please!”

  Shit? Cuss
words weren’t allowed in heaven, were they? Goodness gracious, I was…there. I wasn’t that bad, was I? Mr. B belonged there. Maybe even Jim. But surely I didn’t.

  I lifted one eyelid, barely. Quentin stood over me. His wet hair still hung in his face and lay glued to his cheeks. The jacket was gone. The once gray shirt outlined his well-defined chest in solid black.

  I jerked open both eyes. “Not you, too!” I exclaimed. Hell would be spending eternity with this man and finding out he’d switched sides. And I’m not talking political parties.

  “Quentin?” I lifted a hand to touch his face. He wasn’t a mirage. My heart raced with that realization. He was here with me.

  The weight of his head was supported by my hand for a moment as he closed his eyes and breathed, “Thank God.”

  Well now, how could he get away with that in Hell?

  “Wh-where are we?”

  “On the island. On the beach. Ella, why did you try something so stupid?”

  “What?”

  “You can’t go through those walls. The spirit of all the men and women before you who tried the same thing are now trapped in the rock.”

  I locked eyes with him, praying it wasn’t so. The thought had flitted through my mind, but how would I have guessed that to be the case. “Honest?”

  “Honest.” He leaned and touched his lips to my cheek. “Oh, Ella, I couldn’t bear to know you were forever lost to me.”

  It was a dream. I was unconscious and imagined Quentin had just said something so...sappy and un-Quentin like. Wishful thinking had put the vision in my head. I sighed and relaxed, defeated by the realization of the error of my ways. Not heaven, not hell, just some blank, empty place in between. A soul lost in the abyss of the walls surrounding Fairyland.

  “Ella, come back to me, Ella. I know it must be tough to fight back. God, I hope you didn’t lose anything in that rock.” He slapped my face, then shook me. The accuracy of my imagination surprised me. I could feel it, the sting on my cheek, the ache in my head.

  I slid my fingers higher, reaching up with my other hand as well and entangling them in his hair. My vision was fading. And I wasn’t going to let him go anywhere, least of all out of my dreams.