Once Upon Stilettos

by Shanna Swendson

  I forced my eyes open again. “Huh?”

  “If you lived on the second floor, I might be able to carry you up, but I’m afraid the third floor is beyond me. Can you walk?”

  “Yeah, sure. Put me down.”

  He put me on my feet, keeping one arm around me to steady me while he opened the front door with his other hand. We made our way slowly up the stairs, with him supporting most of my weight. I must have been really heavy to him, for I felt like I weighed a ton. I could feel the gravity pulling me toward earth. “Just a few more steps,” he urged.

  Marcia was waiting with the apartment door open and a disapproving scowl on her face. Ethan would have been better off facing my father. “You got her drunk?” she snapped.

  “I took her to a wine dinner. I didn’t realize she didn’t have a lot of experience with wine.”

  “I liked the sweet one, the one they make from moldy grapes,” I put in helpfully.

  “If my intentions weren’t honorable, I wouldn’t have brought her straight home,” he pointed out.

  Marcia had to see the logic in that, even if she wasn’t overly fond of Ethan. “Well, let’s get our little drunk inside,” she said. The two of them walked me to the sofa, then got me settled onto it.

  Ethan knelt in front of me, and I struggled to bring his face into focus. “We’ll have to drink that bottle of wine I got some other time,” he said. Then he stood up and told Marcia, “I’d better go. The cab’s waiting.”

  “Did you hear that?” I asked Marcia as soon as the door shut behind him. “He wants to see me again.”

  “And why wouldn’t he? You seem to be a pretty cheap date.”

  “Not cheap. I think this was expensive.”

  “You’d better start drinking water or you’ll regret it in the morning.” She disappeared for a moment, then I heard her voice coming from the kitchen. “Argh. Gemma forgot to buy water again.” I heard water running from the tap, then she pressed a glass into my hand. “Drink up,” she ordered.

  I managed to get the whole glass of water down. My head was already clearing, though I still felt sleepy. “I didn’t drink that much, really,” I told her. “Only five little glasses of wine, and I only finished one of them. Most of them I just sipped. And that was with food, over several hours.”

  “You really are a lightweight, aren’t you? Now, off to bed with you.”

  Before I fell asleep, I pondered which was worse, getting so drunk on a few glasses of wine and making a fool out of myself in front of Ethan, or having magic make yet another unwelcome appearance on a date. I’d once been the most normal person on the face of the earth, but almost everything in my life had become weird.

  It said something about how my weekend had gone that I was ridiculously happy when Monday morning rolled around. Sunday was characterized by a nasty headache, grillings from nosy roommates about my date, and a depressing phone call from my mother, who remained convinced that I must be terribly homesick living in the big city. Going to work allowed me to escape all that. It was a relief going to a place where the weird was perfectly ordinary.

  Well, there might have been one other reason for looking forward to Monday morning, and he was waiting for me on the sidewalk in front of my building. Owen Palmer perfectly fit the definition of the word “heartbreaker,” without actually deliberately doing anything to break hearts or even knowing he was doing so. He was incredibly gorgeous, incredibly brilliant, incredibly nice, and every indication was that he’d filed me firmly in the “just a friend” category.

  He was also an extraordinarily powerful wizard and a leading fighter in the magical war of good against evil. That may sound sexy and romantic, but in reality I suspected it didn’t make him ideal boyfriend material. Besides, I was happy being friends with him. Really.

  He greeted me with a smile. “Good morning, Katie. How was your weekend?”

  “Good morning, yourself. And my weekend was okay.” We fell into step together as we walked toward the subway station.

  “You had a date with Ethan, didn’t you?” The office grapevine at MSI was possibly the best in history. Or Ethan had told Owen. They were becoming pretty good friends. The casual tone of his voice when he asked about my date with another man was yet another piece of evidence proving he had no interest in me. Not that I was setting out to make him jealous, but would it have killed him to show the tiniest hint of it?

  “Yeah. It was nice. The date part was, at least. But there was some other stuff that got kind of strange.”

  “Such as?”

  “I’ll probably need to talk to you about it at work.” If I was going to have to discuss certain aspects of my dating life with him, I preferred to do it in a business capacity.

  “Now you’ve got me intrigued.”

  “Trust me, it’s not that interesting. Just something we might want to track. And how was your weekend?”

  “Nothing exciting. I mostly rested.”

  “Good. You’re not back working on counterspells, are you? The boss said you had to recover fully.” Owen had been more than a little drained and banged up in his last encounter with our nemesis. He still had the faintest traces of a healing black eye, which stood out against his pale skin, and although he no longer carried his left arm in a sling, he wasn’t using it much.

  “I’m being good, trust me. I can’t afford to let myself get rundown right now.”

  And with that, we’d exhausted our conversational supply. We didn’t really hang out together beyond work-related situations. I didn’t even know if we had anything in common. That didn’t stop me from wanting to sigh dramatically whenever I saw him.

  But then I saw something odd enough to distract my attention from the gorgeous man at my side. You see strange things on the streets of New York every day, and I see stranger things than most, but this was really strange. It was like a living skeleton was walking alongside us down the Fourteenth Street sidewalk. Nobody else who passed us seemed to notice anything odd, but with New York commuters, that didn’t necessarily mean anything.

  I moved closer to Owen. “You don’t see anything weird, do you?” I asked him.

  He raised an eyebrow. “Define weird.”

  “Walking skeleton on your left.”

  I admired his cool as he barely moved his eyes in that direction. If the wizard thing didn’t work out for him, I thought he’d make a decent spy. He even looked like a young James Bond. “Hmm,” he said after a moment. “There’s definitely something veiled near us. I can feel the power in use. What do you think we should do?”

  “You’re the wizard.”

  “Well, it might make a scene if I unveiled it in public.”

  “If anyone noticed,” I reminded him.

  “Oh, right. Well, let’s get him out of our hair.” He mumbled something under his breath and twitched his wrist.

  The skeleton creature suddenly flew up against a NO PARKING sign, where it remained stuck and struggling. I almost hit a light pole, I was so busy looking to see what happened while still trying to walk forward and look casual. Owen pulled me out of the way just before I broke my nose.

  “Nice teamwork,” he said with a satisfied grin. “You spot ’em. I spell ’em. I wonder how long it will take for someone to realize it’s there and free it.” I didn’t need the reminder that his commuting with me in the morning had more to do with business than it did with affection or even chivalry. It was a form of mutual protection against our enemies. I could spot any magical threats that might have been veiled from him. As powerful as he was, his magic meant that magic could be used on him. Meanwhile, he could defend us against any magical attacks that I spotted. And if the motion of a crowded subway car happened to throw me up against him, well, that was a bonus.

  “I wonder what that was about,” I said, but before he had a chance to respond, I already knew the answer. There was a street musician near the entrance to the subway at Union Square, playing the bongos with no sense of rhythm. I grabbed Owen’s arm, for the wou
ld-be drummer wearing a brightly colored Rasta cap that didn’t go with his otherwise nerdy attire was none other than MSI’s current nemesis, Phelan Idris. I was fairly certain he was using a spell to hide himself from Owen.

  “What is it this time?” Owen asked under his breath.

  “Let’s just say there’s a good reason that guy playing the drums has no rhythm.”

  He gave a weary sigh and walked right up to the bongo player. “Sorry I don’t have any spare change on me,” he said. “I know we messed up your livelihood, but couldn’t you have found something a little less degrading to do? Your lack of talent is embarrassing.”

  Idris’s beat got even more off as he looked up at Owen, then turned to glare at me. I gave him a cheery little wave. “So you’re still using your girlfriend’s eyes, huh, Owen?” he asked.

  It would have been nice if Owen could have managed a hint of a blush at that point. He was so bashful that it didn’t take much to turn him beet red, and surely if he secretly harbored any feelings for me whatsoever, the accusation that I was his girlfriend should have been enough to make him start glowing. Instead, he remained icily calm. “And you’re still dredging up whatever abominations you can find. Or are you making them yourself? Magical bioengineering isn’t just against the code, it’s a bad idea.”

  “Oh yeah, the oh-so-holy code. Well, don’t worry about me. I’ve got plenty to keep me busy, as you’ll see soon enough.”

  Owen rolled his eyes and turned to head into the subway, muttering under his breath. I hurried to follow him, but paused to look back when I heard a loud bang. Idris’s drums had exploded in a shower of silver dust, earning far more applause than his playing had. I got the impression that Owen hadn’t been muttering curses. Well, not the obscene kind, anyway.

  I caught up to Owen just past the turnstiles. “He’s up to something,” he said, more like he was talking to himself than to me.

  “Isn’t he always?”

  “Well, yeah, I guess. But sending me a message like this means he’s up to something new, and he wants me to know about it.”

  “Doesn’t that sort of ruin the element of surprise? You’d think he’d accomplish more if he didn’t give you advance warning.”

  “Yeah, you’d think, but he doesn’t work that way. I suspect half the fun for him is watching us react.” He frowned. “Unless maybe he isn’t up to anything at all, and he just wants us to think he is.”

  “Owen, if you keep that up, your brain is going to explode.”

  He looked at me, then shook his head and laughed. “I am sounding paranoid. Okay, I won’t let him get to me.”

  The rest of our commute went without incident. We got off at the City Hall station, crossed the park and a street, then headed down a side street to the castle-like building that housed MSI. A cheerful voice greeted us as we approached. “And a good Monday to you!” it said.

  Both of us looked up to see a gargoyle perched on the awning over the front door. “Good morning, Sam,” I said. Sam was in charge of security for MSI.

  “How was the hot date?” the gargoyle asked with a wink.

  “It was good, thanks.”

  “Everything under control, Sam?” Owen asked.

  Sam saluted with one wing. “The building’s still standing.”

  Owen grinned. “Keep up the good work.”

  Inside, Owen and I parted ways, him heading to Research and Development, me heading up to the executive suite, where I was assistant to Ambrose Mervyn, the chief executive officer. He’s better known as Merlin. Yes, the Merlin, as in King Arthur and all that. He’d founded what had gone on to become this company, then was revived recently from a sort of magical hibernation to take charge once again as we faced the serious crisis of dealing with Phelan Idris and his dark spells.

  I found Merlin at his receptionist’s desk, fiddling with the telephone. He might be a legendary genius, but he was new to the twenty-first century. I had a feeling that within days, though, he’d know exactly how a telephone worked and might even have built one from scratch.

  “Good morning, Katie,” he greeted me.

  “Good morning. Where’s Trix?”

  “I’m afraid she’s out ill. Would you mind sitting at her desk today?”

  “Not at all. I’ll move my laptop out here.”

  “Thank you. I don’t seem to recall fairies becoming ill that often, so I do hope it isn’t serious.”

  It must have been serious, considering how eager she’d been to hear about my date with Ethan. I made a mental note to ask Ari if she knew anything. I got my computer from my office, then settled in at Trix’s desk.

  Merlin went back to his office, returning moments later with his calendar. “I have a meeting this morning at ten, very important. Amalgamated Neuromancy is open to joining us for the fight against Phelan Idris and his upstart venture, but there are some details we need to discuss.”

  I made a note on the desktop calendar. “Will you need me for that?” In addition to being Merlin’s executive assistant, I was also his personal verifier, ensuring no magical cheats or shortcuts were used against him.

  “No, that won’t be necessary.” His eyes twinkled. “I intend to apply some personal persuasive techniques against their chief executive, so it would be best if there are no outsiders present.”

  I couldn’t help but grin. “Okay, gotcha. I’ll let you know when he arrives.”

  “Thank you.” He started to head for his office, then turned back. “By the way, I understand you and Mr. Wainwright went out together Saturday night. How did that go?”

  This place was worse than a small town. Even the thousand-plus-year-old boss knew about my dating life. “It was nice. He took me to a wine dinner. Come to think of it, have you heard of the Pegasus Winery? I think they might be magical. It looked to me like they enchanted the guests with magical wine, then tried to cheat them on wine purchases. The way people were acting, it reminded me of that spell Idris was selling, the one Owen was testing.”

  “I don’t recall having heard of them, but you should probably ask around. I hope you and Mr. Wainwright put a stop to it.”

  “We did. Well, not the enchantment part, since it was too late for that, but we did stop the cheating.”

  “Good work. I must admit that I find the news disturbing. If our kind are so willing to use magic for cheating and other lawbreaking, will we truly have the will to stand against what Idris represents? Or will he find an even greater market for his wares than we realized?”

  It was a sobering thought. Phelan Idris used to work for MSI, but got fired for developing spells designed to cause harm, an absolute MSI no-no. He went into business for himself to market those harmful spells. We’d put a stop to his first efforts with a little legal maneuvering and a big magical fight, but he was still out there.

  Trying to cheer up both Merlin and myself, I said, “But haven’t there always been cheats? Otherwise, why would you need people like me?”

  “Cheating among the magical is one thing, and usually done only for amusement and one-upmanship, considering we always get caught. Using the nonmagical for gain is entirely another. Check with Sales and see if that winery uses any of our spells for its business, and let Mr. Palmer know what you observed.”

  He went into his office, and I got to work typing memos and reviewing documents for Merlin after sending an e-mail to Sales about the winery. The visitor arrived just before ten, and I escorted him into Merlin’s office. He looked like the kind of person who would need a particularly strong form of persuasion to get him to do something for the general good.

  Merlin must have gone straight to work on him, for I had to ignore the occasional odd sound and flash of light that showed through the crack under Merlin’s door once the meeting started. As entirely nonmagical as I was, I could feel the tingle of increased power usage nearby.

  I was just considering forwarding Trix’s phone to my office so I could shut the door and tune out whatever was going on in Merlin’s office w
hen Owen came running into the reception area.

  “Is he in?” he asked. He normally wasn’t that brusque, so something had to be wrong.

  “He’s in a meeting. What is it, Owen?”

  “I need to talk to him.”

  “He said he wasn’t to be disturbed.” Just then, a particularly loud pop sounded from within the office, accompanied by a flash of light and an odd smell. We both flinched. “No, disturbing him probably isn’t a good idea,” I added.

  He nodded. “You may be right, but this is pretty urgent.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I think we’ve got a spy among us.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  He waved a handful of papers at me. “Because someone’s been into my notes on protective spells. Notes that were locked in a desk drawer, inside my locked office, inside our highly secured R and D department.”

  “But they didn’t take them, right? How do you know someone was looking at them?”

  “I, uh, booby-trapped the drawer before I left Friday. Nonmagically. And it’s definitely been disturbed. Each page was looked at, probably copied.”

  “There’s no legitimate reason for anyone to have been in that drawer?”

  He shook his head. “I have the only key—that I know of—and the office is both locked and warded. No one outside the company can get in there when I’m not there. The cleaning brownies even have to work in there during the day instead of at night.”

  “Which suggests an inside job.”

  “Exactly. Either someone here is helping someone get in, or someone who works here is doing some unauthorized snooping. So, you can see why I think this is important enough to interrupt a meeting. He needs to know right away.” There was another loud flash and pop that made us both jump. “Or I could wait out here until they finish killing each other.”

  “Good idea. Have a seat.” He settled uneasily into the chair in front of Trix’s desk. “You said you booby-trapped the drawer. Did you already suspect a spy?”

  He shrugged and looked uncomfortable. “I had a feeling.” Owen’s feelings were uncanny and tended to be accurate.