Reason was taking her time. Jay-Tee could feel herself starting to sweat. She should probably go back to the table, face him without talking to Reason first, but Jay-Tee figured she owed her. Which was crazy. Reason couldn’t hurt her the way he could.
A tall woman with dreadlocks down to the small of her back came in, sat down, nodded at Jay-Tee, and began to redo her makeup, starting with concealer under her eyes. She’d looked great to start with, and Jay-Tee couldn’t imagine she’d look noticeably different afterward.
Reason sat on Jay-Tee’s other side. She wasn’t at all flushed. All the color had gone from her face, making the black eye Jay-Tee had carefully painted over stand out. Her skin was flat, sallow, like the color of a paper bag. The shock had drained all the champagne away.
Jay-Tee’s need to help her grew, which was crazed. The longer they stayed in here, the madder he’d be—at both of them. How would that help Reason?
“You okay?” she asked, but Reason didn’t say anything.
“Want me to fix your lips? Put some more blush on?”
Reason nodded.
“But we shouldn’t stay too long. He won’t like it.” She glanced at the woman, now curling her eyelashes, and wondered when she would leave.
Jay-Tee got the blush and lipstick out of her purse, shifted around on her chair and leaned forward, started putting the lipstick on, but her hands were shaking. She kept slipping, going beyond the line of Reason’s lips.
“Sorry,” she muttered, grabbing a tissue and rubbing it off.
“Here,” Reason said, taking them from her. “I think I know how to do it.”
She did her cheeks and then her lips, much more evenly than Jay-Tee would have managed. She had half a mind to ask Reason to redo hers. But how much longer would that take? Jay-Tee could almost see him sitting there, his eyes growing colder and his lips thinner.
The dreadlocked woman finished with her makeup, nodded at them both, and finally left.
“How does he take your magic?” Reason asked at once.
Jay-Tee put the makeup back in her purse. Well, he’d said he wanted her to tell Reason; might as well do it here. “He asks me if he can, and when I say yes, he puts his hand on me. Like this.” Jay-Tee leaned forward and lightly touched the back of Reason’s hand. “And then there’s this weird sensation of heat, kind of like it’s burning, but not that bad, and when I want it to stop, I say so. And it stops right away.”
“It’s up to you? You make it start and stop?”
“Yes.”
“Does it hurt?” Reason leaned closer, as if she was trying to see the truth in Jay-Tee’s eyes.
“No.” Not exactly.
“How do you feel after? Like something’s gone?”
Jay-Tee hesitated, decided to tell the truth. “Yes. I feel tired. The more he takes, the worse it is.”
“Does it mean you can’t do magic? ’Cause he’s taken it from you?”
“I can do magic. You’ve seen it.” Jay-Tee smiled, thinking about everything she’d done right under Reason’s nose. “He hasn’t taken all of it. I wouldn’t let him,” she said with more confidence than she felt. “It’s not that bad. Honest.”
Reason’s nose wrinkled. Jay-Tee figured the word honest didn’t carry much weight coming out of her mouth.
“Can you answer my questions? Is there stuff Blake knows that you don’t?”
“Lots. I didn’t know he was your grandfather.”
“Do you think he really is? Do you think that’s true?” Reason sounded distressed.
Jay-Tee understood why. She couldn’t help feeling relieved all over again that he wasn’t any relative of hers. Her dad was mad foul, but not even on the same scale as him.
“Don’t know, Reason. I don’t know anything about your family. Except that your grandmother’s heavy-duty scary. I guess that means they’d be a perfect match.” Jay-Tee smiled, but her joke was too true to be funny.
Reason said nothing, thinking it all through. Her learning curve had been steep tonight. But they couldn’t just sit here like this. He’d be getting madder and madder by the second. “We should get back.”
“Are you frightened of him?”
Jay-Tee looked down. “Sometimes.” Most of the time.
“What has he done for you? Why do you let him take it?”
A blond woman in an ugly brown-and-green dress came in.
“Tell you later,” Jay-Tee said, although she wasn’t sure she could. She stood up, lowering her voice. “It’s not all bad, I promise. I’d’ve run away from him if it was. He leaves me alone most of the time.”
Reason didn’t reply.
He didn’t say a word as they picked the napkins up off the backs of their chairs and sat down. Jay-Tee started to raise the champagne to her lips but was too nervous and put the glass back down, bracing herself for the acid to start dripping from his lips.
“Yes,” Reason said before he could open his mouth, staring straight at him, putting her hand palm down on the table as Jay-Tee had shown her. “Yes, take some now.”
He reached across and laid his hand on hers. It made Jay-Tee sick to watch but also relieved it wasn’t her. Even so, she flashed back to the feeling of skin contracting, the slowly increasing burning sensation crawling up her arm. Like ants, poison devil ants.
Would it make Reason want to hurl? Make her head suddenly ache right where the spine and skull met? Would Reason’s body scream at her that this wasn’t right? Color appeared in a spot the size of a nickel on both her cheekbones, clashing with the blush. Jay-Tee thanked God it wasn’t her and then felt like a bitch because it was Reason and that was her fault.
“No,” said Reason. “Stop.”
He took his hand away. He wasn’t buzzing like he did when he drank from her, and Reason wasn’t shaking. But Jay-Tee knew that even such a short time was enough for him to get a taste and for Reason to get an inkling of what it felt like to be drained. She’d been wise stopping it so soon.
The waiter brought yet another dish. A dessert this time, Jay-Tee was relieved to see. This would end soon. She’d be able to get away from him. She wondered how the three of them looked to the waiters: rich old white guy with his two Chicana girls, one with a suspicious hint of a black eye. None of them was going to know Reason was a . . . whatever it was she’d said she was. But appearances didn’t tell you everything, she thought. This was much, much creepier than it looked.
“Now tell me,” Reason said, “about magic.”
Jay-Tee leaned back in her chair, twirling her champagne glass, all ready to hear how he was going to weasel out of telling Reason anything.
“After a mere ten seconds? Hardly fair. I should keep my explanation as abbreviated as your scant offering.” He ate some of the dessert. “It’s very good, girls. You should at least try it.”
Jay-Tee had lost her appetite watching him take from Reason, but Reason would be starving. “You should eat it,” she told her. “Food helps. You’ll feel better.”
Reason smiled halfheartedly, spooned some of the wobbly creamy stuff into her mouth, then proceeded to inhale the rest of it. Jay-Tee switched their plates, feeling slightly better for having done something to help her. “Have mine.”
“Thanks.” She finished it as quickly as the first.
“What exactly do you want to know, Reason?” he asked. The smile on his face was genuine. He was enjoying this.
“What don’t I want to know!” Reason said, sounding fed up, almost angry. It was the first time Jay-Tee had heard her use such a sharp tone of voice. As she spoke, her voice grew sharper, a red haze grew around her eyes. Jay-Tee could feel the hair standing up on her arms. Reason was losing her temper. The questions bubbled out of her like lava. “What is it? How does it work? How do I use it? Why am I magic? Why do you want it?”
As Reason continued to fire her questions at him, Jay-Tee leaned across to put her hand on Reason’s arm. “Tranquila,” she whispered softly, like her father would whisper when she was little and losing it.
“Cálmate.” She could feel Reason simmering down, regaining control. She squeezed Reason’s hand for a second, glad to have helped her but sad to remember what her dad used to be like before he turned into a monster she wished dead.
“Why do you want to take mine?” Reason asked in a lessagitated voice. “Or Jay-Tee’s, for that matter? How does the door work? Does it have to do with maths?”
Math, Jay-Tee mentally corrected her. Unless there was more than one math? What a horrible thought.
“Why do they all die so young? Do I—”
He held up his hand. “Enough. I can’t answer all of those questions. You are magic, Reason, because it’s in your genes. It’s hereditary; it runs stronger in some families than others. You’re from a long line. Jay-Tee’s the product of two magic-wielders who were, as far as they knew, the only ones in their families. Many appear out of nowhere, with no relatives like them and no idea what they are.”
Jay-Tee had a sudden, clear image of her parents together, flowers floating in the air, teaching her about magic, about how to protect herself. But her mother had died before Jay-Tee was old enough to talk. She touched the leather bracelet on her wrist.
“There are very few families like yours, Reason. I come from another. You have to remember that it’s genetic. Like being tall. It’s not something you can choose. It’s in our genes. More women than men express it. Like left-handedness in men. But much, much rarer.” He took another sip. “And yes, it does have to do with math.”
Jay-Tee smiled, wanting to say to Reason, See? Math, not maths.
“Many of us are as gifted with numbers as we are with magic.”
Jay-Tee snorted. “Not all of us.”
“No, not all. It’s a particularly strong talent in your family, Reason. Other magic users have other talents. Magic comes from people. It’s generated by people. It’s stronger and more plentiful in cities than in small towns.”
“Or out in the bush,” Reason said, more thinking out loud than asking a question.
He nodded. “That’s why you were raised in the country. Much harder to find you there.”
“And much easier to be found here? In a city? Especially one this big?” She glanced out the window at Times Square.
He nodded again.
“So she can find me here?” There was fear in her voice.
“But there are magics that help with hiding. I’ve been using them. And while you’re with Jay-Tee, her magic shields yours. It’s your magic that Esmeralda is tracking.”
“She’s tracking me?” Reason’s eyes were wide. Jay-Tee couldn’t believe she hadn’t thought of that before.
“Of course.”
“And—”
He held up his hand. “I believe that was more than enough payment, Reason, for such a paltry amount. Jay-Tee will most likely tell you more,” he finished, the acid finally evident in his voice.
22
Maelstrom
The limousine ride back from the restaurant was quiet and tense. No champagne, no bubbles, and no stupid toasts. Reason wasn’t in the dark anymore. Jay-Tee was still unsure what to make of it. He hadn’t given her any warning before his little performance tonight. She’d had no idea he was going to be honest.
But what had he told Reason that didn’t help him more than her? Jay-Tee could fix that. She could think of some things he wouldn’t want Reason to know.
But then she sighed. He’d know. He’d question her, and he’d know and make everything worse for her again. There had to be a way to warn Reason and keep him from hurting her because of it. Jay-Tee could let herself get angry, like Reason almost had at dinner. Let it explode in his face. Jay-Tee doubted she had more than five years left anyway. Why not just take him out now?
She glanced across at him and then at Reason sitting beside her, staring out the window, not saying anything. She could see no resemblance between them. Was it true? Was he really her grandfather?
He had the driver let them out in front of their building. “I’ll see you both in a few days,” he said. Neither of them responded. Jay-Tee wished a few meant many or, even better, never.
“I can’t sit still in the apartment,” Reason told her in the elevator. “I feel like I’m going to scream.” Her skin was like parchment, making her black eye intense even under the makeup. She looked worse than when she’d first come through the door almost frozen to death.
“We’ll go somewhere you can scream as much as you want. Out dancing. Remember? I promised. We’ll just change into better clothes. Get rid of the wobble shoes.” Reason didn’t smile.
Neither of them said much getting changed, going out to the street. Jay-Tee wondered whether she should apologize but didn’t know how. And anyway, it wasn’t her fault. He would have gotten to Reason without her. But, Jay-Tee reminded herself, she’d helped. A lot.
She hailed a cab and they both piled in. Jay-Tee gave him the address and Reason stared out the window, her hood pulled over her head.
“How do you feel?” Jay-Tee asked her.
“Not exactly ace.”
Under any other circumstances Jay-Tee would’ve teased her about the weird words she used. Not right now.
“You feel tired?”
“Yeah. Like he took energy, not magic.”
“They’re connected,” Jay-Tee said. “But we’ll get it back for you. He didn’t take much. Magic flows in as well as out.”
Reason looked at Jay-Tee with an expression that made her wonder if she hated her now.
The driver had the heating cranked up to the max. He was sweating like a pig. The taxi stank of him and a burning smell coming from the heater. Summer was a lot better: You could walk everywhere and forget about taxis.
They got out in the meatpacking district. The cobblestones were slick with ice. “Careful,” Jay-Tee warned Reason, holding her gloved hand and pulling her along to the entrance to Inferno. Reason almost fell twice. She had absolutely no idea how to walk on ice and it wasn’t exactly a good moment to start teaching her.
Jay-Tee wrenched the door open, still dragging Reason. The walls were shaking with the beat, the heavy bass pounding up through her feet. Jay-Tee smiled at Peter, the bouncer.
“Hey, Jay-Tee,” he said. “Going to shake the place down?”
“Depends on how you mean.”
Peter laughed. “Got your voodoo all tuned up? I told you I’m not losing my job ’cause of you.”
Jay-Tee rolled her eyes. “Come on, Peter, you know you’re just about the only person it doesn’t work on.”
Peter snorted. “You be careful with that one,” he told Reason. “She’s trouble.”
They both walked by, shedding their coats, jackets, scarves, gloves, hats, sweaters, burying the coat-check girl under them. She gave Jay-Tee the ticket with a glazed smile. They were down to jeans and T-shirts. It wasn’t warm yet, but it would be.
Through the next door and in the club proper, a blast of heat and music to go with the beat hit them. Jay-Tee started dancing. Dragged Reason behind her along the path she could feel between bodies, because Jay-Tee knew crowds, knew when they’d move, when they’d stay still, when they’d sway. This crowd was dancing, bobbing in and out, up and down, forming lots of little eddies, like a river. She danced Reason along it, out into the thick of the dance floor, which was really the whole club. Even the bartenders were half dancing. Hundreds of bodies all around them. The walls slick with sweat.
Jay-Tee closed her eyes and let herself unravel, falling into the dance maelstrom. A split second before she fell all the way, she slid her eyes over Reason. She was there already, little Reason, as lost as Jay-Tee was about to be. Jay-Tee smiled. This was her real magic. This was what she loved best.
Jay-Tee came back with two large bottles of water, handed one of them to Reason, grinning.
“Bet you never thought you were going to be hot again! Dripping with sweat,” Jay-Tee said into Reason’s ear.
Reason returned the grin. “Nup. You were right. My energy’s
back. Does that mean the magic is too?”
Jay-Tee started to nod and then stopped. “I don’t really know. Not exactly. I do know that when I dance in a crowd, I feel it flow into me. It’s created by all these people. I can connect to it and end up bigger than I am. You felt that too, right?” Jay-Tee had never talked about this with anyone before. The words felt strange coming out of her mouth.
“Yeah.” They leaned over the railing of the balcony, staring at the crowd surging below them. Jay-Tee couldn’t wait to fall back into it. From up here it looked like the ocean in a storm, everything in motion, cresting waves of bodies turning and twisting in the tempest. The walls were shaking.
Reason unscrewed the lid of her bottle and took a large swig. “Did you actually pay for these? Or for us to get in?”
Jay-Tee laughed.
“You never pay for anything, do you? Just wave your hand and they see money.”
“Doesn’t work on everyone. Pete, you know, the bouncer up front?”
Reason nodded.
“He just lets me in ’cause he likes me. I tried it on him and he burst out laughing.” Jay-Tee shook her head at the memory.
“Is it real? The money, I mean.”
“Yeah, it becomes real.”
“How?”
“My magic’s got to do with the connections between people.” Jay-Tee had never explained it to anyone before. Wasn’t exactly sure how to. “That’s what a crowd is—not just a bunch of people together, but the connections between them. And I use that, the energy of it; I pull the money out of that.”
Reason nodded, but Jay-Tee wasn’t really sure she understood.
“Is that how my magic works?”
“Yours is more bound up in numbers than people.”
“What can I do with it?”
Jay-Tee shrugged. “I don’t know. You should know. I mean . . .” She paused. “It’s something you’ll figure out. Everyone’s magic is different.”
Reason considered this. “Blake’s credit card,” she said finally. “Was that real?”
“Oh, sure, he’s rich. He always uses real money.” Her voice changed to his precise, measured tones: “He would never expend magic on anything so trivial.” She returned to her normal voice. “He’s all about hoarding his.”
Magic or Madness Page 15