Night Magic

by Susan Squires

  She felt him tense before he could check himself, then deliberately relax. “Okay. Not enough info yet, darlin’.”

  “We were there, the family. At least most of us were, I think. And Jane. I couldn’t see too many faces. I couldn’t see you.” Her throat was almost closed.

  “We all have to go someday. Fact of life, baby.” He stroked her hair. She was stuck with long hair until she was ninety, because as long as he loved it, she would never cut it short. “Maybe it was way in the future.”

  She’d been racking her brain to remember every detail of that horrible vision. “I’ve been trying to figure out whether the few faces I could actually see looked older. Tris and Maggie looked pretty much the same. But their heads were bowed and besides, the Tremaine men hold age well and Maggie’s turned-up nose and pixie face will make her look young forever, drat her. Jane was there, but she wore a short veil. Lanyon looked—drawn. Maybe older.” Why didn’t that make her feel better? “I didn’t recognize the minister. It wasn’t Pastor McFarland.”

  “That’s it. The minister was probably someone new who won’t arrive for decades.” She could feel the rumble of his words under her hand on his chest. “Or the grave isn’t for one of the family. Jane’s mother hasn’t been well, and we’d all go to her funeral just to support Jane.”

  Drew brightened. That was bad of her. But personally, she thought the woman deserved the death she was likely to get. Or it could be their attorney, Miles. She didn’t want to think of Miles dying. But it was better than Michael or one of the immediate family being the focus of the funeral. Guilt struck. Maybe it’s Miles’s mother, she amended. We’d go to her funeral too.

  “Honey, you can’t worry about this stuff. You’ve got to let it go, for your own good.”

  “I know. . . .” Drew sighed. Easier said than done.

  Michael held her away from his body. His eyes got a gleam. “I know something that would take your mind off that vision.”

  Drew couldn’t help her grin, but she tried to infuse it with some disgust. “You have the same solution for everything. Dry skin, hangover, PMS; sex cures everything.”

  “Well, doesn’t it?”

  She chuckled. Enhanced sex drive was part of the whole “destiny and magic” condition. “Pretty much, I guess. Let’s go over to the house.”

  “Before you go home. . . .”

  Both Drew and Michael jumped. “Mother, you startled me.” Drew patted her chest rapidly as she caught her breath.

  “So sorry, dear.” Her mother came out of the shadows into the dimly lighted breakfast room. “Michael, I hope you don’t mind, but Brian and I need to talk to Drew for a minute.”

  Michael raised his brows. “Well, she is the expert on Jane, I guess.”

  Brina shook her head. “Why do they all have to marry smart ones?” she asked the ceiling. “Couldn’t you have picked a big, dumb jock?” she complained to Drew.

  “Don’t indulge in stereotypes, Mother. Lots of athletes are very bright.” Drew sighed. She was not looking forward to this conversation. But there wasn’t a lot of choice involved. She trailed a finger over Michael’s stubbled jaw. “Hold the thought.”

  Drew and her mother left the room without a word. Drew would feel better prepared to face her parents if she knew for sure how she herself felt about Kemble and Jane.

  On the way up the stairs, her mother said, “What’s wrong, Drew? You’ve looked so pale and anxious the last few days.”

  Her mother was far too perceptive. So Drew told part of the truth. “I’m having trouble controlling the visions again.”

  Her mother stopped on the stairs and frowned. “You were doing so well.”

  “I’ll get back in the groove. I expect it’s just a process.” She continued up the stairs.

  Her mother put her arm around Drew’s shoulders. “Maybe Maggie. . . .”

  “Absolutely not. I’m not having Maggie Calm me. That gets to be like a drug.”

  Her mother sighed. “I know. I just. . . . Well, I expect things come in their own time.”

  Her parents had the huge master suite that occupied the greater part of the second floor on the south wing of the old hacienda. They’d kept it in the austere Spanish style, with worn clay paver tiles grown almost pastel with age, whitewashed walls, and bright Turkish carpets in red and blue. The dark original beams had been left exposed, and the windows had matching wood shutters that could be opened to the marvelous view of Catalina Island and the channel. They were closed against the night as Drew entered. The light from worked-iron sconces and the big wrought-iron wheel chandelier cast a warm glow over the room.

  Her father was pacing, wearing black silk pajama bottoms and the red velvet smoking jacket he’d gotten from her mother for Christmas. He stopped and looked up at her entrance.

  “Good,” he said briefly. Drew never got used to the stabbing intensity of his blue eyes. “We could use your opinion.”

  “About what?” Drew was wary. The best thing she could do here was answer only what she absolutely must. As if she knew any answers.

  “About whether I should tell Kemble there’s no way he’s marrying Jane.” Her father was in Captain-of-Industry mode.

  Her mother’s look at Drew said she shouldn’t get tangled up in arguing with the approach. “Before we go there,” her mother began, “You know Jane, Drew. Does she love him?”

  “I’ve never seen any signs.” Jane probably just wanted to escape her home situation. And that was a situation worth escaping, if what Kemble had hinted at to her mother last night were true. It was why Drew couldn’t object to the marriage. Jane needed a lifeline and Kemble had offered her one. Could she blame her friend for grabbing at it?

  Her father ran his hand through his hair. “I can take care of her mother,” he said. “And Jane is more than welcome to live here without marrying Kemble. I like Jane.”

  “Then the other cogent question is why Kemble thinks he won’t get magic.” Her mother shot a look at her husband, who became acutely uncomfortable.

  Drew tried to save her father. “He is thirty-seven, Mother. He’s been fussing about not having magic for the past couple of years.”

  “More than fussing,” her mother said absently. “He’s been miserable.” She sat calmly on the small chair of her vanity. “Brian? Do you know something about this? Kemble intimated in his declaration that you agreed with him.”

  “Well, it’s a distinct possibility.” Her father stopped and crossed his arms over his chest defensively. “The gene could be recessive. That’s the way genetics works. We always knew it could happen. We just chose not to burden the children with doubt.”

  Her mother sighed. “We might have been wrong about that. I’ve cast the cards a hundred times for Kemble. All I ever get is various indications of a hard road ahead. I can’t tell whether he’ll ever get magic. But . . . it could be he won’t. When did you tell him?”

  “Yesterday. I . . . uh . . . suggested he settle down.”

  “And he goes out and proposes to Jane today.” Her mother shook her head.

  “He could do worse than Jane,” Drew offered.

  “Of course he could do worse than Jane. Jane is a wonderful girl. I’m trying to figure out whether he’s going to break her heart or not.” Her mother tapped a finger to her lips. “What happens if he does find the one who is his Destiny? What then?”

  “Jane told him she would give him a divorce, no questions asked.” Her father acted like that solved something.

  Both Drew and her mother stared at him. Her father looked guilty.

  “Oh, that’s great,” Drew muttered. “It does mean her heart isn’t engaged, though.”

  “It means no such thing, Drew Redmond,” her mother said. “It means she doesn’t value herself very highly. That’s different.” She chewed her lip. “Just think about this. Where does Jane sit at the dinner table when given a choice?”

  “With Father and Kemble. . . .” Drew replied. “But she just does that because
no one else wants to hear them talk business and she’s good-hearted.”

  “That’s what I always thought. But we sent Kemble to get Jane to tell us where you’d gone when you took off to find Michael.” Her mother was gathering steam.

  “But that’s just because she talks to him better than she talks to me,” her father said. “You said I’d scare her to death, if I recall.”

  “But that is the point. I think we knew on an intuitive level that she feels she can talk to him. Whom, for instance, did Jane tell that Devin was surfing monster waves at night in the nude last year?”

  “Kemble,” Drew said thoughtfully.

  “Devin is surfing storms at night buck naked?” her father asked, voice rising. Uh-oh. His brows had tucked together and his blue eyes had storm warnings flashing.

  “Was,” her mother said calmly. “It was during that awful time when he was figuring out that he was in love with Keelan and his power was trying to get out. He was very upset. As Jane knew.” She brought the conversation away from dangerous shoals. “The point is that she may be more connected to Kemble than we thought.”

  “That’s evidence?” her father demanded.

  But Drew began to think back. “You may be right, Mother. I’m flashing on other examples over the years. The way she blushes at the pool when he comes out of the water. . . . We may have missed the signs just because Jane is so self-effacing.”

  “I think so too.” Her mother leaned back in the little chair upholstered in red needlepoint roses. “I think she loves him. I have to cast the cards to be sure of course.”

  Drew didn’t have as much faith in the tarot as her mother did. But her mother was uncanny at understanding those around her, and what they needed. And there had been a couple of very convincing portents that her mother had revealed in advance of actual events. Maybe it was coincidence, but the tarot did come down from Merlin. It could be that someone with the Merlin gene really could use the cards to predict the future. It sure beat Drew’s power for effectiveness.

  They stood there thinking for a moment. Finally, Drew said, “Then if you could convince Kemble to call it off . . . which I doubt, Father, even if you forbade the marriage altogether. Kemble is an honorable man. He offered and he’s going to go through with it. But if you could get him to call it off, you’d break Jane’s heart.”

  “And if he marries her and doesn’t really love her?” her father insisted. “We haven’t talked about that, but he sure didn’t sound like a man in love to me today.”

  “He breaks her heart,” his mother said quietly.

  “And if he finds his real destined lover, double-bad heartbreak with chocolate sauce and cherries,” Drew almost whispered.

  “Which makes our course clear,” her mother said, standing up.

  “It does?” Drew and her father asked in unison.

  “We can’t save Jane’s heart,” her mother said, standing. “And Kemble needs the steadying comfort of her presence right now. So our job is to support them the best we can.”

  That was about the saddest thing Drew had heard in a while. Her father didn’t look any happier about it. But what could they do? Kemble wouldn’t back out. Drew didn’t believe Jane would either, once she’d made a commitment. This could get ugly.

  “Time for Michael and me to get going,” she said. “Thank goodness it’s not a long walk to the house. I find all of this exhausting.”

  Looked like sex with Michael was going to have to take her mind off a lot of things.

  “I’m going to go get my tarot deck,” her mother said, standing.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Kemble called Jane’s house at a little after seven the next morning. He’d kept several other people up almost all night, but things were pretty much fixed. A few calls this morning and he’d be set. Or rather they’d be set. His actions had to satisfy two people now. The last thing he wanted to do was to hurt Jane. Which was why the call.

  “Hello?” Jane had such a sweet voice.

  “Uh, hi. You sleep okay?”

  “To tell the truth, not really. You?”

  “Well, I had a lot to do.” Actually sleep hadn’t entered into his night at all, for several reasons. Start easy, he told himself. “They don’t require a rubella vaccination anymore.”

  “Oh, good. I remembered that Dr. Porter’s office is closed on Thursday.”

  “Just be sure you have your driver’s license. Do . . . do you have a dress you’d like to wear?” He was fully prepared for a shopping trip. He’d get an idea where she wanted to shop, and then arrange for it to open early.

  “I thought I’d wear the suit I wore to Keelan and Devin’s wedding. I was just sending it out to be cleaned, but I think it will be okay.”

  Practical Jane. “Excellent.” He cleared his throat. “Have you, uh, told her?” Jane had refused to let him come in last night when he took her home.

  “Yes. She’s . . . very happy for me.”

  Kemble bet she was. Mrs. Holmby didn’t think things would change. She thought she’d still be able to order Jane around and now she’d have all the money she wanted for her booze deliveries. She probably thought Jane would spend days with her so she could have someone to berate and belittle and only give Kemble nights. Not happening. He was going to protect Jane from her mother if it was the last thing he did. Or the last thing Jane wanted.

  “I . . . I was thinking, Jane. . . .” Oh, this was going to be hard. “We can’t live with your mother. You know that, don’t you?”

  “Of course I know that.” She sounded a little insulted.

  He pushed on. “Do you think she can live alone?”

  There was a pause. “No.” He heard a sigh. “That’s one thing that was keeping me up last night. I suppose we’ll have to find a place for her that has some . . . supervision. It may take a while, but I can live here until we get it sorted out and convince her to make the change.” Jane sounded as doubtful as he was that they’d ever convince her mother to move into a facility capable of caring for her. Because she’d know that alcohol would be off limits.

  But Jane was staying with her mother for one more night over Kemble’s dead body. “I’ve got a place lined up now.” He let it lay there. Silence on the line. “Jane?”

  “Kemble, she . . . she won’t go on such short notice.”

  “That’s why there’s a social worker coming over from the county this morning in about an hour.” He rushed forward before she could protest. “I did the research on the process, completed the report online and outlined the circumstances. Then I pulled some strings with Supervisor Phillips. Voilà. Visit this morning. If the social worker doesn’t think she’s capable of living on her own, she’ll write the order to get your mother a psych eval. I’ve got a judge ready to order mandatory rehab. She doesn’t have to go to a county facility. She just has to go somewhere. I’ve got a wonderful place in Long Beach all ready for her. Right on the water. Everything contained in a twenty-story building, with full facilities for detox as long as she needs it, and a great staff of psychiatrists. Afterward she can stay there as a permanent resident. They’ve got four levels of assisted living. It’s got a movie theater, a full gym.” Like Mrs. Holmby wanted to work out. “Lots of classes. It’s not far, so you can still visit, with a security detail of course.”

  “A . . . a security detail?”

  The other shoe. His mouth was dry. “You’ll be a Tremaine after today.” And incur all the dangers that came with that.

  Her voice got a little rueful. “Well, not a very important Tremaine. No magic.”

  “Doesn’t matter,” he insisted. “The Clan won’t know that.”

  Big breath on the other end of the line. Don’t lose heart now, Jane, he thought. They were going through with this. He needed to go through with this. She let the breath out. “Okay. Will . . . will Mother be gone today?” she whispered. “Oh, dear, I sound like a horrible daughter.”

  “You’re not. No one I know would have put up with what you have. It�
��s time to have a life of your own, Jane.” He was going to see that she did.

  “I . . . I was just wondering. Because if she’s still here, I could stay here. . . . Or if we can find someone to come over . . . but no one could stand a whole night with her, and we’d just get a call at the Breakers in the middle of the night. . . .”

  “You’ll be able to say goodbye before we head to the courthouse.” That ought to be an event. But he wasn’t going to delay the ceremony. He was going to lock Jane in now, before she changed her mind. She might be a little teary after what was likely to be a monumental scene with Mrs. Holmby, but he’d hold Jane together. “They won’t allow visitors during the detox phase. That’s usually thirty days. But we’ll go over to see her as soon as we can.”

  He didn’t want to give Jane time to dwell on that part. He cleared his throat. He so hoped Jane would be pleased with his wedding gift. “And we won’t be staying at the Breakers tonight. You deserve a place of your own, and a little distance from the family wouldn’t exactly be bad for my mental state either. I bought us a house, Jane.” He couldn’t help the note of pride in his voice. Not many men could have pulled that off overnight. “Well, we’re renting until the escrow closes, but we can go there tonight. It’s one of those fully furnished houses in that development at the bottom of Hawthorne Boulevard. Close to the Breakers, but a place of our own.”

  “Kemble,” Jane gasped. Then her voice dropped to a whisper again. “I heard the furnished ones sold for ten million dollars when the development first opened. You can’t spend that much on a house. Oh my goodness, they’re probably even more expensive by now. What would your father say?”

  “Don’t panic. Senior can’t say anything about it. I used my own money. You do know I draw a salary from Tremaine? A very good one. And since I don’t use it because I live at home, I’ve invested it. For twenty years.”

  “And you have that much?” Jane’s voice was small.