This Magic Moment

by Susan Squires

  Oh, no. He was in danger of ejaculating before she could give him instructions to do so. And she had begun to move faster, both her hand and her hips. He was in trouble here. He began to recite mentally the section of Pliny the Elder’s Natural History on methods of gold mining.

  She interrupted his train of thought with more instructions. She lowered herself to just above his loins and whispered, “Now you thrust,” in a breathless pant.

  He needed no further instruction. He pistoned his hips upward and thrust inside her, casting slow and excruciating pleasure to the side in favor of driving her wild. She kept up the circling of her hand and emitted cries of pleasure. He knew that with just a few moments more he could drive her over the edge to her pleasure again.

  But then she surprised him. “Come for me, Thomas.”

  It was as if she had turned on one of the faucets that had fascinated him so since he came from the monastery. His body responded instantly to her command. He buried himself in her as his fluid jetted in flaming bursts. His senses contracted and then exploded with his semen, and after long moments, as his senses returned, he felt her contract around his penis as her cries spiraled up into a shriek.

  She collapsed on top of him, trying to breathe as she laughed. “Well, that was fun,” she managed.

  “These romance novels know what they are talking about,” he agreed. “Very…fun.”

  She giggled again. “That’s just the beginning.”

  “Are there other things to try?”

  “Oh, you have no idea. Why, we haven’t even tried oral sex.”

  “Yes we have,” he protested. “You seemed to like it very much.”

  “I did,” she said softly, running her hands through his hair. “I meant my mouth on you.” Then she giggled. “Don’t look so shocked. I hear it’s pretty nice.”

  “I think it would be more than just pretty nice,” he said eagerly. “In a few minutes I am sure we could try it.”

  She grinned and kissed him, a long, lingering kiss that left him aching in his heart. He felt fuller than he had ever been. “Sorry, guy. I think we’ll have to take a rain check. We should get in and see how the family is doing on finding Morgan’s lair.”

  He nodded reluctantly, the vision of Tammy kneeling between his spread thighs kissing his penis fading only slowly. “You are right, Tammy Tremaine. But I hope we get a chance soon to continue our exploration.”

  “Me too.” And her grin was so full of life and mischief that he wanted to hold her close and never leave the loft.

  Instead, he reached for his jeans.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  ‡

  Tammy was shocked to see Mom, Drew, and Michael drinking Scotch at the kitchen table at seven in the morning as she drew Thomas with her into the house. Lance trotted serenely behind them. Tarot cards were spread out in front of Mom. Hmmm. Her mother was willing to face the future again. But the Scotch didn’t bode well for what she had found in it.

  “Wow,” she said. “A little early for Scotch, isn’t it?”

  “Rough night,” Michael said.

  Thomas looked very nervous. But he squared his shoulders and sidled up to Michael. “Thank you so much,” he whispered.

  “It was nothing,” Michael said gruffly.

  “It was something,” Tammy murmured, feeling shy. “Thanks from me too.”

  “Thanks for what?” Drew said, as though coming out of a trance. Tammy had never seen her cool and sophisticated oldest sister looking so heartsick. That was a really bad thing when her power was seeing the future. For the first time, Tammy realized that things were so bleak they might not work out okay. Beneath all her disillusionment and contempt for the family’s goals after Daddy had been struck, she’d always believed they’d pull through. Drew’s expression was a slap in the face that said, “Wake up, little girl. Did you think we were playing games?”

  Mom also looked pale as she explained to Drew, “Michael gave Thomas ‘the talk,’ just to make sure they both had a good time.”

  Tammy had to grab Thomas’s hand, he looked so dismayed. “Does everybody know what we did?” he whispered. His eyes got even bigger. He turned to Mom. “Did you tell Mr. Tremaine?”

  Michael had the wary look of a rabbit in fox country, because he knew what Tammy knew.

  “No, I didn’t tell him, dear,” Brina said kindly. “None of us did.”

  Thomas visibly relaxed. Tammy wasn’t going to tell him that it was because they didn’t have to. Daddy might be a shell of his former self, but he could recognize Destiny.

  Drew gave a tentative smile to her husband. “You’re a good man, Michael. Just know I think that.”

  Uh-oh. That practically sounded like goodbye or something. Jeez. What had Drew seen? What did Mom’s cards reveal?

  Kemble came into the room, his hair tangled from running his hand through it, bags under his eyes. Her normally impeccable oldest brother looked like he’d been up all night. For weeks. He slumped in a chair. “How did they build a frickin’ building bigger than an airport hangar without leaving any trace?” he asked, defeat in his voice.

  Jane came in behind him. She looked worried too. “Have you thought that maybe they concealed their effort by making it look like someone else built it? There’s a lot of military activity out there.”

  Kemble lifted his head. “You mean maybe they made it look like the military was building it.”

  Tris wandered in and stood in the doorway. “Hell, for all we know, they infiltrated the military and got the Army Corps of Engineers to build it for them.”

  “Why didn’t I think of that? I’ve been looking in the wrong records.” Kemble might never get over the fact that he wasn’t his father, even though Daddy couldn’t do magic anymore. Even though Kemble could do things with computers Daddy never could. Some things were hard to leave behind once you’d believed them for long enough. Kemble started to get up.

  “No, you don’t,” Jane said firmly, pushing her huge husband back into his seat with a diminutive hand. “Breakfast first. And you three, hand over your glasses. Cocktail hour is not seven in the morning.”

  And so Jane took them all in hand. Kee and Dev drifted in, and Lan and Greta. Dev and Kee took over making breakfast, adjuring Jane to sit. Nobody asked Tammy and Thomas how it felt to have consummated a relationship with your Destiny, though Tammy was pretty sure they all knew. That was just as well. Thomas would probably have bolted for the door if they had. Instead they sat glumly at the table, pushing eggs and sausages and toast around their plates. Mom hadn’t said a word since Tammy and Thomas had come in. It almost seemed like they were all giving up. Thomas felt it too, she could tell. He sat silently, watching them.

  Tammy shoved herself up from the table. “Come on. I’m going to do a little spying. Anyone care to join me?”

  *

  Kemble had gone back to research the possibility that military records would show where Morgan’s lair was, so it was Michael and Lan and Greta who gathered around Tammy and Thomas in the conference room of the business wing.

  “This is pretty cool,” Greta said. “You can actually see through the eyes of animals?”

  “Yep.” Tammy sat in the center. Kee plopped down next to her. “Thomas, you sit here, next to me. Kee and Thomas touch me. Greta and Michael take their hands. I bet you’ll be able to see through me too. I’m going to try for Morgan’s pet raven again. He goes pretty much everywhere with her. If we can’t find him, I saw a cat that might do. Oh,” she added, “ravens can see ultraviolet frequencies. It’s a little weird at first. Bear with me. It takes a bit of effort.”

  Only it didn’t. The minute she thought about Edgar, boom! She was in his head with a rushed feeling of falling. “Your eyes!” Greta exclaimed. Tammy grabbed for Thomas and Greta and heard them gasp as they joined her vision.

  “Damn you, Jason!” Morgan was pacing and raging in a dark, small space. “I wanted one thing. One! You were supposed to find him. And you failed me.”


  The light-eyed guy named Jason was naked and chained up next to a…a coffin in the dim light. His pale skin glowed in Edgar’s ultraviolet-sensing sight. “Not my fault,” Jason said, his voice hoarse and throbbing. “I looked everywhere. I think he got out in the helicopter.”

  “Not possible. The pilot said he wasn’t carrying extra weight.”

  “He doesn’t want to admit he failed.” Jason was desperate now. “There was a fire. The kid could have gotten on in the confusion. Let me have a few hours with him….”

  “No. Your time is past. Hardwick is testing your theory with him now. But there’s another possibility I need to consider. You’ve always been a rebel underneath that callous surface, haven’t you, Jason? Are you hiding him?” Morgan cooed, slowing, stopping. “You know I know just how to find out.”

  The fear in Jason’s eyes was frightening, just because he looked like a guy who’d never been afraid of anything. “Not lying. Didn’t find him.”

  “After a while, Rhiannon here will give you a knife and you can do what you need to do. Again. I’m sure you’ll be quicker at it than you were when you were fifteen.”

  “She gets to stay?” Jason’s voice had gone flat.

  “I have things to do, and someone might as well enjoy your reunion with your father.”

  Jason went still on the metal floor. “Do what you have to.” His voice was a gritty snarl.

  Edgar peered at Morgan as she closed her eyes and went still. A smile of satisfaction grew on her face.

  The coffin lid opened. Tammy tried to pull out. She didn’t want to see what was going to happen here. But only a tattooed hand appeared. It wasn’t desiccated. A man sat up. He was maybe fifty-five, sixty with narrow eyes and thinning hair. He wore a cheap suit. The one he’d been buried in.

  Tammy tried to twist out of Edgar. Why was this vision stronger than the others? Thomas could help her. Thomas!

  “Where am I?” The old man’s eyes got a wicked gleam when they landed on Jason. “That you, boy? You’re growed. Bet you still need the feel of your Daddy’s cock up your ass to put you in your place, though.”

  “He’s all yours,” Morgan hissed, turning. As she did, Edgar saw Rhiannon, in her ultraviolet-glowing, midriff-baring sweater, smile.

  Tammy felt Thomas squeeze her hand. The tether between her and Edgar ripped. She popped back into the conference room; lighted, clean, and best of all, far from that room where something horrible was going to happen. She gasped. That was sudden—not the slow fade she was used to. Around her, she saw expressions equally horrified as they tried to get their heads around what they’d just seen.

  “Oh, my God,” Greta whispered.

  “She brought his father back to life?” Thomas asked.

  “Yeah,” Michael said. “Not a happy relationship, apparently.”

  “She’s gonna let that creep fuck him.” Lan looked angry.

  “In…in his anus?” Thomas asked, on uncertain ground.

  “Yeah,” Lan spat out. “Until they finally let him kill his own father. Like he’d apparently had to do when he was fifteen after a lifetime of abuse.”

  Tammy was shocked down to her foundation. “That’s how she keeps them in line,” she whispered. “She uses what they fear. She’s done this to him again and again.”

  “I thought Jason was the worst guy in the world,” Greta said softly. “Maybe he isn’t.”

  “Yeah, she’s worse.” Lan thought a minute. “Hardwick’s power is to cause pain. She just let him go have fun with the helicopter pilot, who has obviously been trying to avoid her wrath.”

  “The pilot will break down and admit the copter cargo might have been overweight,” Michael concluded.

  “And then it’s just a hop, skip and a jump to figuring out he’s here, since the helicopter was bound for LAX and that’s only seventeen miles north.” Lan put it out there, though Tammy knew they’d all been thinking it.

  “Don’t worry, Thomas,” she said, hugging his biceps. “We won’t let her have you.”

  “Damn right,” Lan said.

  But if Morgan came looking with all her firepower, how would they stop her?

  *

  Thomas was in shock as the family trailed out of the conference room. He supported Tammy with an arm around her waist and another on her left arm.

  “I can get back to spying in a minute,” Tammy said, her voice a little shaky. “I just need a cup of tea or something.”

  “That’s some power,” Lan muttered. “I felt like I was there.”

  “I think we were there,” Greta whispered. “I never knew birds could see ultraviolet frequencies.” Light was Greta’s specialty and her power. “I’ll have to research that.” She looked around, abashed. “Sorry…I wasn’t thinking.”

  Lan hugged her. “It’s okay. I hope you get a chance to do it.”

  “Tammy, take a minute,” Michael said, turning. “I’ll go check in with Kemble.”

  “When does the Pentacle form?” Thomas asked into the quiet.

  “Tomorrow night,” Greta whispered.

  A sense of doom fell over them.

  Thomas felt ashamed. How could he have been so fooled by Morgan? That was easy—because he was a naïve idiot who knew nothing about the world, or about people, an ignorant dupe, Morgan had said. How could he protect Tammy from Morgan? He was the least useful person at The Breakers, another danger to them because all he could do was burn things.

  And that started him thinking.

  *

  “Kemble, may I ask you a question?” Thomas stood in the doorway of the oldest Tremaine brother’s office. There were computer screens everywhere, old books opened to densely texted pages, empty coffee cups and plates of half-eaten sandwiches of various ages.

  “Um-hmm,” Kemble said absently as he scanned two screens that were both scrolling.

  Thomas sucked in a breath. This might be difficult, since he didn’t want to reveal what he and Tammy had done in the barn. “I want to know about the ceremony.”

  Kemble turned his head and sat back, giving Thomas his attention. The screens stopped scrolling, though Thomas didn’t see him push any keys on the board to make them do that. “Don’t know much about it. We only discovered there was going to be a ceremony at the moment the Pentacle forms from Tammy’s little spying activities.”

  “Oh. So…. You don’t know what my role in it was supposed to be.”

  Kemble looked taken aback. He grew wary. “Well, they were probably going to sacrifice you by letting your blood. Virgin blood being powerful and all.”

  Thomas sighed in relief. Kemble didn’t know Thomas wasn’t a virgin any more.

  “So the ceremony needs virgin blood to work.” This was crucial.

  Kemble got a thoughtful look. “Who knows with this stuff? Drew says blood amplifies power and virgin blood is best. If the ritual needs a lot of power, does virgin blood provide it? Or does she have another power source and virgin blood just puts it over the top, so to speak. Maybe the ceremony works without virgin blood if enough other power is applied. Then I guess virgin blood would just be an insurance policy.”

  That wasn’t good news. The ceremony might work even if he wasn’t a virgin. “And if the ceremony isn’t completed during the time the Pentacle forms—what then?”

  “I suspect nothing happens until the next time the Pentacle forms. The comet comes around again in five hundred years.” His eyes refocused on Thomas. “Of course, people believe a lot of other crap about blood sacrifice. Mages believe in it. Drew says Aleister Crowley did a blood sacrifice. He was a Mage…. Out in the desert, wasn’t it? Hmmm. I wonder exactly where he…” Kemble’s eyes turned toward a third screen that was blank. It snapped to life and letters began scrolling.

  Thomas’s window of opportunity to ask questions had just closed. And he didn’t have any answers about what to do at all. Maybe Kemble’s expertise wasn’t magic ceremonies. But there was another expert in the house. He’d seen her with a deck of tarot cards in fro
nt of her this morning. He’d read about the Tarot. The cards had been invented in Italy in the fourteenth century, though some thought they were much older than that. He’d never believed in the properties of divination ascribed to them any more than he’d believed in virgin birth. But that was before Morgan brought people back to life and Rhiannon controlled the weather and he became a Firestarter.

  “Hello, Mrs. Tremaine,” he said, as he found her out at a table under a big umbrella on the terrace, a pack of tarot cards neatly stacked in front of her.

  She looked up and gave him a tired smile. “Hi, Thomas. We didn’t even congratulate you and Tammy on consummating your Destiny this morning. How rude of us.”

  Thomas squinched his face up in pain. Tammy’s mother must know he had defiled her daughter. She was just being kind to him until Mr. Tremaine threw him out of the house.

  Mrs. Tremaine patted the seat beside her on a long bench that ran along one side of the big wooden table. “It’s okay, dear. You and Tammy couldn’t help it. How was it?”

  Thomas did not want to be having this conversation with Tammy’s mother. “Uh, good.”

  “It’s like you’ve come home,” she said, going distant. “Like you’ve been searching all your life for what to do, how to be, what to want, and then…” She turned back to him. “Then all those questions are answered.”

  He couldn’t help but smile at her. She was obviously speaking from experience. And maybe she was on his side. “Yes.”

  “It’s also a hard time. So new. Is there anything I can do to help? Answer questions about Tammy, for instance?”