Where did these people come from, really?
Only a few people had visible gems. And way too many of them were eyeing mine with interest.
Some Poindexter stood up and began to extol the importance of practicing good magic. Look what had happened to witchcraft, he pointed out. Yeah, I wanted to answer, they had all been burned at the stake in Salem. But I knew what he meant. I really should listen and keep my sass to myself. Sam laid a hand on my shoulder. I glanced up, and followed his gaze.
A snake. His skin was dark copper, but I couldn’t guess a nationality. His eyes were nothing but beady marbles in his head, the only light coming from the reflection of the chandelier. I curbed the comment about him having Minnie Mouse for dinner. This was real. And serious.
“Who is it?” I mouthed, barely daring to breathe the sounds out.
“Bergestein’s right hand man. He’s got his eye on you.”
“Why me?”
“He senses your inexperience. We shouldn’t have brought you here.”
“We couldn’t just leave her somewhere,” Quentin piped up, grabbing my arm above the elbow. Funny how his gesture made me feel protected.
I listened. Sam watched. Quentin? Well, I don’t know what he did other than bare his teeth at the men who ogled me. Half of me was flattered, the other half felt like a cheap hooker on Valentine’s Day.
The meeting adjourned about ten minutes after I gave up and dozed off. “Where’s the hotel? I’m too tired to even move.”
“No hotel.” Sam said as we walked away from Cinderella’s castle.
I stopped dragging my stiff legs and twenty pound feet. “What are you talking about, no hotel? Where am I going to sleep?”
Sam glanced at Quentin. Quentin shrugged. “Follow me.” Sam turned back toward the exit of the park.
“I ain’t moving. I’ll sleep on this bench if I have to.”
“And you’ll be beheaded before morning.”
“Is that how they have to kill us? By beheading?” I shuddered. Sounded too much like a sword wielding television show.
“You’ll die in many ways, but that’s the cleanest way to get the necklace without touching it.”
I thought about the built-in protection—the shock factor. “So how did that guy in the dressing room get his hands on me?”
Quentin grabbed my hand and dragged me after Sam. “Because I had my hands on you. You were receptive. It was my fault.”
“So I’m vulnerable when you touch me.”
“Nice to hear you say that.”
I was way too tired to spar with him. “Ha.”
Sam ignored our exchange. The man was incredibly patient. “Yes. To answer your question, your guard was down. The necklace is part of you now that you wear it. It will protect you if you feel threatened.”
“It zapped me when I tried to take it off.”
“That too. Just in case you’re being threatened.”
“Like with a gun.” Quentin piped up.
Sam nodded, grimacing. “It happens.”
“I’m scared.”
“We’ll protect you.” Quentin promised and tugged me closer.
“You guys scare me, too.” It was dark now, and we had entered the picnic area. Not so many overhead lights or neon signs glaring down on us. I saw the slightest fade to Quentin’s necklace. Like the northern lights streaking through the beads. “Does it bother you?” I asked. “That I’m afraid?”
“It bothers me you’re saying it and being serious for the first time all day.”
“I’m too sleepy to be funny. Or sassy. I feel drunk.” I fell against his chest. His heartbeat was calming. Warm. Intoxicating.
I smiled. He’d picked me up. It wasn’t real comfortable to bounce against his shoulder with each step he took, but I wasn’t going to tell him to put me down. I sniffed, inhaling the deep masculine musk of him. I wondered if he could read my mind. I didn’t even try to tap into his. Didn’t have the energy. It was easier just to pretend I was a regular girl and this regular guy was carrying me home. Hmm. I snuggled a little closer and wondered what his skin would feel like against mine. Would the magic carry over? I could almost see a trail of color following my finger as I traced it over his shirt.
“Stop.” He tilted his head down.
I did. Didn’t want him to drop me. Bruises on my backside and my pride weren’t necessary. “Are we there yet?” I asked.
“Just a bit farther.
I closed my eyes and leaned in again. It was the closest I’d felt to safe all day.
I woke up in my own bed. “Good God, was that really all a dream?” It was. I wanted to cheer. Instead, I felt the pressure behind my eyes. Big headache time. I rolled over and punched my pillow.
I connected with skin.
“Hey now, I haven’t touched you all night.”
Quentin. And he was in my bed. Without a shirt, I might add. Looking delicious. Much too good. It was one of those moments I didn’t know whether to laugh, cry, scream or look under the covers to see what I was wearing and then decide.
I forced myself not to think about the fact I might have missed breathtaking sex with the hottest guy to every say hello to me. I went with asking him the truth outright. “What are you doing in my bed?”
“Sleeping. It was me or Sam. Sam didn’t want to be considered a dirty old man. Plus I was more willing to accept a black eye in the morning.”
“Guess my aim was a little low.”
“Yeah, we established how bad it was yesterday.”
Yesterday. Oh God, it was real. The necklace, the junkyard, the horny pigeons. Disneyland? Yes, that had to be too. And the gathering of the odd.
“Having those pinch me thoughts?”
“Did you?” I looked up at him, the intimacy of waking up next to him softening the sarcastic, almost childish banter we normally used to communicate.
“Three days of denial.”
“Great. Something to look forward to.”
How’d he get the honor of looking so hot in the morning? The shadow along his square jaw emphasized his raw nature. His hair was wild, but that wasn’t uncharacteristic. And his eyes were true green. Evergreen.
“Quit staring at me already.”
“Never imagined to wake up to a man in my bed without having a rowdy time the night before.”
“You weren’t the one trying to get your ass through that time-space tunnel while you were sleeping. Sam wasn’t sure it could be done.”
“Oh,” I responded. His half grin had my heart thudding.
“Where is Sam?” I refused to get upset. I needed to stay levelheaded and act like this was all perfectly normal.
“Sleeping on your couch.”
“Ah. Well. Isn’t that all cozy?”
“But this is it. We leave here today and we won’t be able to come back. This was a chance Sam took because we had no other choice with you passed out like you were.”
Now I panicked. All my things. I’d have to say goodbye. Tattered border, yellowed blinds. I did have a soft spot for my table lamp, but I could live without it, I guess.
“I do have time for a shower, right? And to get some clothes?”
“You carry what’s on your back. Whatever you’re wearing when Sam says it’s time to fly.”
I finally peaked under the covers. Dressed.
“Were you worried?” Quentin’s eyes crinkled at the corners with his smile.
“A little.”
“Again, my touch would have been unwelcome. You would have been protected if you’d even slightly awakened and fought me.”
“So you saved your hide.”
“I’d rather undress you when you’re begging me to.”
“It’s good to want.” His silent smile did nothing to reassure me that’s what was on his mind. “Dibs on shower first. Who’s going for breakfast?” Now that knew I was safe I dashed toward the bedroom door.
“Make it quick. Sam and I want to use the hot water, too.”
I t
urned the flimsy lock on the bathroom door. “Like it’ll do any good,” I told myself as I checked the mirror. Yep. It was still me. The darn magic necklace hadn’t given me a face lift. Or a boob job. What good was it? Not, mind you, that I needed a face lift at twenty-eight, but, well, my nose had a funny point and there were already wrinkles at the corners of my eyes.
I felt a little more in control today. Or wait, was that another illusion? No, definitely not a trick. I could see mold in the corner above the tub. In my illusions there is no bad stuff.
“I don’t hear water running.”
“Chill, I’m plucking my eyebrows.” It was Sam. Had it been Quentin I might have been a bit more graphic. I did take it as a hint, however, and twisted the knob to release the waterfall.
I was after the world’s record in complete showering. Wow. I hadn’t even had a chance to get warm beneath the stinging spray. I just prayed I got all the shampoo out of my hair.
“Okaaaaaay,” I called out as I zipped down the hall and slammed the bedroom door shut behind me. I was, after all, wearing nothing but a towel.
I had to unrelentingly argue the point that I needed a carry-on something. Preferably my purse.
“Don’t you have a fanny pack?”
I spared no mercy giving Sam what I though was the evil eye. “Do I look like a fanny pack kind of girl?”
“Okay then, a small backpack?”
I pictured the oversize contraption I used on an ill-fated trip to the caves in Missouri a few summers back. “Nuh-huh.”
Sam sighed and held out his hand. “Let me see your purse.” Do you believe the man had the indecency to turn it upside down on the kitchen table? And then the lack of scruples to ask me what was in the little pink bag. I swallowed down the urge to show him my tampons and ask if he had a magical solution to make the need for those to disappear. “Girl stuff.” I snapped it from his clutches. I needed a drink. Water wasn’t strong enough, but at least it was cold. While drinking and thinking about never coming back, I hoped there was a store I could replenish my supply when needed. The realization dawned on me, causing a shudder. I was going to have to deal with that while fighting magic bad guys. Me…magic…PMS. Oh boy.
“You know there was that one girl who played in Mortal Kombat. Or even the Tomb Raider chick. Aren’t they free to participate in this adventure with you?”
Quentin’s toothy grin pushed me on.
“Just think, get one who’s in top form and knows tae kwon whatever karate stuff. You’ll be set.”
“Show me what you’re so adamant about taking.” Sam was such a no-nonsense kind of guy. Quentin still stood leaning against the fridge eating a snack cake. Probably thinking about those Hollywood hotties, I guessed from the dreamy look on his face.
Decisions, decisions. I couldn’t figure it out. I settled on two makeup items, maybe three. How important was lip gloss? More girlie things would be important one day all too soon. The pile was growing quickly. I added a couple of hair ties, a hair pin and a nail file.
“Why?” Quentin tilted his head and looked bored with my frantic shuffling.
“In the movies they’re always needing that stuff. Hey!”
Sam was wielding my kitchen shears. “Not my credit cards!” I called.
“Yep. All your ID.”
“No.”
“Yes.” I looked at Quentin for help, remembering his insistence when he had no ID. Come to think of it, I couldn’t remember his last name either. My morals were really slipping. I’d never slept with a guy without knowing his last name.
The original bad boy looked at me the way a preschooler watches a cartoon. His face softened with child-like fascination. Although I figured I could mirror that look if Sam cut up my credit card bills as well.
“Why?” I stepped over and pulled my wallet from him. He finished the hack job on a thousand dollar Visa as he spoke.
“I can’t tell you.”
“You’re kidnapping me.” He technically had already. Taken me to Disneyland against my will, okay, maybe not quite, but at least without my permission.
“Now that’s ridiculous.”
“I don’t have a choice, do I?”
“No.” Sam smiled and dropped the remaining pieces of my life in the garbage.
“Then it’s—”
“Ella, calm yourself down this instant.” Calm? This man was erasing my existence and I was supposed to be calm?
“You’re not coming back.” Quentin finally joined our gun battle carrying a nuclear warhead.
Nope. No one was sinking my battleship. “Oh, yes I am. I can’t leave. People depend on me. Count on me.”
“Who?” They asked in unison.
“Well,” I paused to consider. “Work. My landlord. My neighbors- they’ll know I’m missing. And my parents.” Didn’t I feel loved?
“Work is easy. You’ve quit. Landlord and neighbors? They’ll figure you’ve run off with Romeo here.”
Quentin flashed a toothy grin and waved.
“And when’s the last time you saw your parents?” Sam knew it all, didn’t he?
“A month and a half ago. When my uncle remarried.”
“Before that?” Damn!
“Mother’s Day?”
Sam shook his head.
“Easter dinner then.”
“How long do you think it’ll take before they realize you’re gone?”
“November eighth. My birthday. Mom will call. And then there’s my sister.”
Sam shrugged and handed me back an empty wallet. I tossed it in the trash. “We can arrange for you to call them first. You’ll tell both of them you’re taking a vacation for your birthday. Tell your sister you met someone. She’ll expect you to be busy.”
“Sam, I hate to tell you this. I’m broke. I couldn’t afford a vacation. Mom knows that.”
“Then you won it, or got it on discount or as a bonus or something. And here I thought you had millions stuffed in your mattress.” He sighed. “Of course you’re poor. That’s how we picked you. I needed someone with few ties, someone whose disappearance would be dismissed.”
“You sure know how to make a girl feel loved.”
Quentin pushed his hair off his face. It fell right back again. I figured maybe I ought to be nice to him, if he came from the same situation as me.
“Back to the purse. Done?”
My bottom lip stuck out as I ransacked my apartment mentally to see if there was anything else I needed.
“You should go get the money I gave you from your jeans pocket.” Oops. Yes, I probably should get that. Instead of leaving it for—Crap, I was getting all choked up at the idea of never seeing this lopsided old apartment again. Maybe it was just the idea that it was mine, leased, not owned, but mine.
On the way, I snagged my toothbrush and deodorant. They’d fit in place of the useless wallet.
Sam was pacing. He zipped my purse closed, checked the tie on my necklace, and then Quentin’s. At his prodding we formed a circle. I was wondering how this would work since Quen had the gems again. Sam was still ringleader of this circus show.
I really wasn’t doing this, was I? Sam’s cowboy boot bumped toe-to-toe with my foot. Quentin shifted his feet the same way.
“Join your gems together,” Sam instructed us. I slipped the purse over my neck and one shoulder first. I closed the gap between the beads. My pulse throbbed against the inside of my head like a tribal drum. The heat from the stones bit into my fingers, fighting them just a little before touching. I thought of the repelling of magnets. Odd.
“Hands.” Sam and Quentin grabbed mine, forming a circle above our touching feet.
“Together.” Quentin’s voice was uncharacteristically soft, compelling. I let the men lead, pulling my hands to the center to meet with theirs. A spike of lightning shot up from the floor and into our woven fingers. The room disappeared in a white flash.
Chapter Six
Alone again! Humph. Click. Click. I snapped my heels together. I’m i
nvisible, dag nab it.
“Ma’am, for this scene I need you to stand here at the spout and pretend to be pumping water. When Ben walks through here, stop and watch him go by.”
Well, so I wasn’t invisible. But this was okay. I nodded even as I searched for a familiar face. Pump the lever, stop and stare. I could do that.
“Action!” I ignored the noise behind me and went about pulling the cast iron handle up and down. It wasn’t light. Some guy walked by wearing buckskin pants and shirt. A cowboy hat perched on his head. He shielded his face from the fake sun and started talking. It didn’t take any acting lessons to learn how to gape. That was—wait, this must mean—we’re in Hollywood.
“Cut!” I didn’t move. “Clear the stage please.” Oh, I guess they meant me. I turned and followed the rest of the extras down the rickety steps to ground level.
“Not bad for a greenhorn.” Quentin’s voice invaded my thoughts. Instinctively I reached for my throat. The vibration of the gems against my neck coincided with his words. It felt like a speaker turned up too loud.
“Where are you?”
“You won’t recognize me. You won’t recognize yourself. Stay invisible.” I caught the eye of a handsome sheriff. He winked at me.
“Um, I don’t think I’m invisible.”
Quentin groaned. “You’re invisible in the sense that no one can see Ella. You’re kind of borrowing someone else’s body.”
I’m what? I reached up and touched my face, then looked down at my hands. Those were not my fingernails. “Is this safe? This doesn’t...kill her or anything?”
His heavy sighs were frustrating. If I could find him, I was tempted to punch him, then demand answers.
“I guess this is something normal you magic people do. Ride around in stranger’s bodies.”
“You could say that.”
The sheriff walked by again, his eyes fixated on my chest. “Is that you?”
“Uh, no. That’s the star of this movie. Next to him.”
“The wrinkled old Indian man?”
“It’s better than being a woman. Or a horse. You will realize you never know what you’ll get. Just stay invisible so you don’t pop out of her body.”
Believe the Magic Page 6