Magic & Mayhem

by Susan Conley

  “Do many women in this time have relationships with men and keep their maidenhead?”

  “Of course.” She tried to think of one. She must know one virgin. Surely she wasn’t that weird, was she? “There’s my cousin Jessica. She’s still a virgin and nobody thinks that’s strange. So she’s only seventeen, not a huge gap in our ages, a mere eight years.”

  He pressed his lips together in a dry smile.

  “Listen, Calum, I have scruples, okay? If you were born to a mother who didn’t want you, you’d give the matter the seriousness it deserves.” She’d believed it for so long, she couldn’t imagine why she now wished she’d kept her mouth shut.

  “I’m only trying to understand you, lass, I didn’t mean for you to defend yourself. It is serious, and I admire you for the stand you’ve taken.”

  She definitely didn’t like the way the conversation had turned. There he was saying all the right things, and for the first time she didn’t want to hear them. Turned on full throttle, watching Calum take steps backwards was enticing her to no end. She’d no idea how much fun it was to play the aggressor, and she would figure out why he had suddenly changed tune. She wasn’t nearly finished with him yet.

  “Let’s talk about something else.” She took a step closer, getting into his personal space. “You. What’s up, Calum? You seem uncomfortable all of a sudden.” She gripped his hand to prevent him backing up farther. “Do you only like passive women?”

  He smiled wryly at that. “Ah, no.”

  “You like touching women.” She rested her fingers on his waistband. The strangest current ran through him.

  “Not all of womankind as you make it sound.”

  “Don’t you like to be touched?” She slipped her hand under his shirt and ran over the ridges of his abdomen. Oh nice. Like a Grecian sculpture. An erotic pulse started deep in her belly.

  “I like it just fine,” he said through his teeth.

  He acted as if he held a tight rein on a pack of skittish stallions. She smiled, feeling an astonishing sense of power. They would go as far as she wanted this time, and she wanted more.

  She slid her hand farther up his chest over smooth skin, hardened muscle and soft bristly hairs. He tensed. She sensed him ready to retreat, so she pushed him back against the counter.

  “Don’t you move. I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but if you think it’s fair to hold me still over your knee because you’re bigger than me, think again. What’s good for the goose is good for the warrior.” Calum was fighting some interior battle, and she was getting to the bottom of it.

  “Beth …”

  “Shh. You can’t have it all your way.” She slipped her hands under the hem of his T-shirt.

  “No.” His hands folded over hers.

  “No?”

  “Not just yet.”

  “When? I know you’re not shy.”

  Another wry smile.

  “What if I told you I want to put my lips on you for a while, and I’ll only — ”

  Calum stopped her words with his mouth. He pulled her in tight to his chest by her wrists, keeping them firmly in place at his side, and kissed her savagely, bruising her lips with his, taking her breath.

  Then in what was becoming a thoroughly annoying habit, he slipped aside and retreated to the door, leaving her with an utterly inadequate explanation.

  “I want you, Beth, God knows I do. But there’s something I must attend to that can’t be left another moment. Please forgive me, lass.”

  With that said, he was gone.

  • • •

  Calum’s purpose in escaping the cabin was threefold. First and most urgent — a need to cool them both down. Not only had Beth been a heartbeat from ripping his clothes off, he knew now that a similar inclination for Matthew had not struck her, or she’d no longer be chaste. Proof enough she was still his Bethia. He looked down the mountain in the direction of the cabin and broke the crown jewels of smiles.

  The path was steep there. He jogged up the rough incline to a plateau that looked out over a substantial valley where the lake flowed.

  Secondly, he had to find Finn. This tension couldn’t go on between him and Beth. He could only blame himself — getting her into that position over his knee. When it came to Bethia, he had little restraint. It was the memories. Carrying a thousand years of passion–inflicted lovemaking reminiscences was as distracting as a wolf to a sheep.

  Calum stopped and looked out over the valley. Even Finn would be inspired by this vista. He climbed down to a ledge cut out of the mountain and sat with the rock as his backrest, letting one leg swing out over the edge.

  This was the perfect vantage to consider the third reason he’d headed for the hills. He had noticed something unusual when he’d walked the woods last night. He might not know the lot of the twenty–first century, but one feature had struck him — it was crowded. Traffic, day and night, even the road into the mountains had a fair share of vehicles. He scanned the valley from end to end — not a human sign in sight — no roads, no houses, no boats on the lake. Calum was beginning to wonder where exactly Finn had led them.

  That thought brought him back to problem number two. Where was the meddling trickster hiding?

  Calum sang the calling chant over the hills.

  Silence.

  “Finn!” Damn, where was he? The trickster’s absence began to worry him. Surely, Finn knew that Calum would end up fending Beth off — highly entertaining, to be sure — but how long would Finn drag this out?

  He swung up off the ledge and cursed under his breath. Finn would drag it out as long as the entertainment continued. By provoking Beth, Calum had played along nicely.

  The only way to induce Finn was to bore him. Calum grimaced. All he wanted was to rekindle the love between him and his soulmate, He would rather not chance an awkward confession regarding his impotency — it might lead to her discovering the tasks he’d performed.

  “Ah, I’m on to you, Finn, and your wicked games. We made a bargain and I’ve kept to it. You’ll not be playing me for a fool. So come now and let’s get on with it.

  “Finn!”

  With his hands clasped behind his back, Calum began pacing the edge of the cliff.

  Chapter 19

  Just a Wee Bit Off Earth

  Matthew pulled into a gas station to top up the tank as his cell phone rang. He glanced at Bruce and smiled. “Hello, Chantal, thanks for returning my call.”

  Chantal Desjardins admitted that since they’d spent that weekend together last month, she’d thought of Matthew often.

  “I hope to have a repeat of that weekend soon, Chantal.” He winked at Bruce. “I’d love to see you in a bikini on a tropical beach, just as soon as I tie up some loose ends.”

  “Oh? I’ll bring my skimpiest bikini then. I got your message, and I did have a voice mail from a woman wanting to sell her home and relocate in Ontario. I’ve not returned her call yet. Do you think that’s the woman who’s been harassing you?”

  This was too easy. “Could very well be. I appreciate your help with this, Chantal. If you could set up an appointment with her and let me know, then I’ll come by and have a look. Have you ever been to Belize?”

  He finished the phone call with Chantal’s promise to alert him when she’d heard from Beth. From the concierge at the hotel, he’d learned the identity of the mountain man — Calum Cunningham. An internet search had pulled up nothing on Cunningham, so he’d called an old client of his, a private investigator and asked him to find out what he could.

  “I’m getting something to eat,” Bruce said and nodded his head toward a take–out window. “Want a hamburger?”

  Matthew abhorred fast food and it irritated him that Bruce couldn’t recall that fact. “No. Go ahead.” The way Bruce smacked his gum irritated him t
oo.

  Next door to the take–out was a grocery store. A bulletin board hung on the wall inside the entrance advertising goods for sale and cabins to rent by owners — perfect. He needed something isolated, not a resort. Two phone calls later, he had rented a fishing cabin on a lake up in the mountains. The owner lived in town and Matthew could swing by any time within the hour to pick up the keys and directions.

  Bruce might not recall Matthew’s food sensitivities, but Matthew’s memory was seamless — Bruce had a severe peanut allergy. Even the dust gathered in the bottom of a small package of nuts could kill him in twenty minutes, which was why Bruce always travelled with an EpiPen.

  Matthew ordered a roast beef sandwich and two chili dinners to go from the deli. One ingredient to go with the chili, he found in the snack section.

  As he left the store, he saw Bruce leaning in the window of a Mazda laughing at something a brunette had said. Matthew finished his sandwich by the time Bruce ended the conversation and joined him.

  “Hey, I told those babes we’d meet them later at the martini bar in town.”

  “Good thinking, space cadet, babes are a major priority right now.”

  “We might as well have some fun. We can’t look for Beth in the dark.”

  “Get in the car.” Matthew threw the wrapping from his lunch in the garbage and walked around to the driver’s side. He set their dinner on top of the newspaper on the back seat. He’d read the article relating Beth to the jewelry taken from the seniors at her meal program. Last month, a woman who’d received daily meals had died of a heart attack. She hadn’t expected to find Bruce in her bedroom. He should have known then Bruce was a fuck–up.

  Matthew started the car. “I found us a cabin to stay the night. Since the cops think Beth is still in the area, we’ll stay put and do some investigating ourselves until we hear otherwise. We’ll pick up the keys to the cabin and scout out the area.”

  “Sure, good plan. Hey, what smells so good in here?”

  “That’s our dinner, Bruce, homemade chili. You’re going to love it.”

  Bruce opened his window and yelled out as the van passed the Mazda. “Later, ladies. The martinis are on me.”

  • • •

  Calum may have insisted, but Beth didn’t know if she’d be able to keep him out of her bed much longer. Last night she’d fallen asleep in his arms on the wool rug by the fire. It had been the sweetest night. He had carried her upstairs and tucked her in. She’d woken early and seen him unfurl from that couch. If nothing else, the man would soon be disfigured if she didn’t allow him some mattress.

  Standing at the kitchen counter, she peered into the basket filter of coffee grounds. How many scoops had she put in? She didn’t have a clue. She dumped them back into the tin and started over.

  Though she tried to deny it, her wanting Calum was a peculiar phenomenon that made her wonder if she’d been dating Matthew because deep down, she’d not wanted Matthew badly enough. She had wanted security, commitment, and all wayward passion tightly controlled, so she reigned superior, unchallenged by the kind of craving Calum invoked. Her motives for being with Matthew seemed rather messed up now that she thought about it.

  Uh oh, was that four or five scoops? One more, she decided — better strong coffee than weak.

  Perhaps she’d longed for security from Matthew because she was insecure herself. It was possible. Had she not loved the flashes of envy sent her way from women ogling Matthew? Not unlike the attention Calum garnered. Beth’s mother might not have wanted her, but look at the man who did.

  She chopped a green onion and tossed it in with the red pepper already sautéing in the pan.

  Be that all as it may, was it sensible to feed her sudden sexual appetite just because she finally had one? After all, she’d only known Calum a few days, and that was exactly the kind of promiscuous behaviour Beth abhorred.

  Oops — eggshell. The slippery piece escaped her fingertips as she chased it around the pan.

  But, and there seemed to be no end to those buts, she’d be narrow–minded to define Calum’s allure as purely physical. Her errant warrior had an undeniable appeal that wasn’t the least bit physical. Calum made her feel treasured.

  She stopped buttering toast for a minute to let that revelation sink in.

  “Ah, now that’s better,” Calum said jogging down the stairs after his shower. He peered over her shoulder at the sandwich she was putting together. “Smells good in here.”

  “Toasted western.” She smiled into his eyes. The faint scent of ‘Almond Blossoms’ lingered on his freshly scrubbed skin. His hair hung long and warrior–like, dampening the shoulders of his T-shirt.

  “I meant you.” He kissed her lips good morning.

  “You smell pretty good yourself,” she said after the kiss. “I got right on breakfast because you wanted to go somewhere today?” She passed him the hot egg sandwich.

  “Thanks.” He devoured half the sandwich in one bite. “Very good. We’re going to that market just down the highway. There’s a phone for you to check in with your father and the real estate woman.”

  “Do you think it’s safe to be seen there?”

  His mouth was set tight. “We need to go, Beth. Don’t worry, I’ll not let any harm come to you.”

  She relaxed her concern and wiped crumbs off the counter into the sink. He was right. They couldn’t expect to stay hidden indefinitely.

  • • •

  Calum snatched the keys from Beth. “I’m driving.”

  “You don’t have a license to drive.”

  He looked out over the vacant hills. Not much of a danger to humanity here. “How do people learn to drive?”

  “It’s called graduated licensing.”

  “Get in the car, Beth.”

  She got in.

  A few minutes later, Beth commented on what a fast study he was. It was charming in the fine morning, luxurious to picture their life like this. Was she thinking the same? Too much of a wish, perhaps. He sensed that she’d put herself in his hands to see her through this crisis, but would she remain there if given the choice? She’d not asked if he was there to stay. Guilt unfurled in his stomach with that thought, but there wasn’t much to be done about it. With their eternal bond at risk, he couldn’t reveal he’d soon be taken from her. She would never allow herself to fall back in love with him.

  They drove for nearly thirty minutes before Beth noticed.

  “Uh, Calum?” Her voice dipped off an eerie edge. “Why haven’t we reached the store? Did we miss a cutoff? Wait a minute; I don’t remember seeing any road signs since we left the cabin. That’s strange.”

  When he slowed the car to a stop, he turned to face her. He hadn’t wanted to alarm her until he knew for sure, but this ‘trip into town’ had confirmed his suspicions. There was no town. “We didn’t miss the cutoff. Beth, be assured there’s no need to panic, but we may not be precisely where we thought.”

  Her eyes darted across the countryside. “What do you mean by that?”

  “I think Finn has led us somewhere just a wee bit off Earth.”

  “Cripes! Don’t say that.” She grabbed the dash as if to hold the car down. “Why would you even think something like that? Where could we possibly be?”

  “I could take a guess. Each dimension follows its own physical laws, so it’s complicated, but I’ll try to explain it as best I can. The universe is a multidimensional space in which lies a complex web of field lines that Finn is able to modify. I would guess he has rotated us through to another dimension. But, Beth, it’s quite safe. Don’t worry — ”

  “Don’t worry? Are you insane? How is this not something to worry about?” She rolled her top lip over the bottom. “I’ve been pretty good with all this, Calum, with the thousand–year thing and the space warp and the immortal Finn, b
ut what you’re suggesting? Rotated us a wee bit off Earth? That is pushing it!”

  She slammed the door shut behind her. Calum got out and followed her storm cloud up the road, jogging a few paces to catch up.

  “How could we possibly not be on Earth?” she reasoned. “We didn’t say ‘open sesame,’ we didn’t fly over any rainbows, there were no black holes, so you are mistaken. And in case you’ve forgotten, this is exactly what Earth looks like. Those are maple trees for goodness sake, so I’m going to walk over there and I’ll see a highway with General Motors cars and a roadside bakery with actual humans eating tourtières, and then you are going to feel rather foolish, Bucko.”

  “I’ve checked all directions from the cabin. Driving this far without reaching an intersection or seeing a road sign is confirmation enough. Nothing is out there but mountain, Beth. We’re in Finn’s world now.”

  Beth’s bottom lip quivered. “This is a problem. You couldn’t leave well enough alone, could you? Who’s to say I’m in any less shit than I’d be in if I’d never left Ashbury. As a matter of fact, I don’t see how this couldn’t be the most shit any one has ever been in — just a wee bit off Earth! What the hell is that? See what happens when I lose control of my life? I want to go home, Calum. I want to go home now!”

  “We have to wait for Finn. My guess is he’s removed us from danger. After all, he shifted you out of Matthew’s car when you were threatened.” Calum thought Finn’s game was the reason for the relocation, but one never knew what motivated Finn.

  “Don’t say another word. Take the car. Go back to the cabin. I’ll find my way there.”

  “Ah, no.”

  “No?” Her eyes flashed furiously. She looked ready to punch something. When Calum took a step back, she directed her fury to an apple–sized rock and kicked it off the ground. Dust flew as she kicked another and another.

  “That behaviour is of no help,” he said.

  She stopped in mid–kick, narrowed her glare, shifted slightly and kicked a stone a finger width past his right leg. Now that was uncalled for. He crossed his arms over his chest and narrowed his eyes to match hers.