“That’s not necessary,” Ariel said.
Duke let out a barking laugh. “What do you think you’re gonna do, catch a cab?”
She hadn’t given it any thought. “I don’t know. I thought—”
“No sense wasting an ambulance ride on you. You’re okay enough. Even though Vari wanted you checked out. He was real insistent about that.” Duke frowned at her. “You sure you didn’t see him?”
“I’m sure.” Ariel was the only one looking at the windshield now. The building was too close. It was made of some kind of corrugated metal and painted gray. The roof was flat and huge. Did he plan to land on the roof?
“Because he was awful insistent about what happened to you. And…” Duke paused. He probably meant it for dramatic effect, but it was just annoying. “…he’s paying for this flight.”
“What?” That got Ariel’s attention. It even made her look away from the windshield.
“Hang on a sec.”
Duke said that last casually, but Ariel was convinced he had just realized they were going to hit the building. He spit out the toothpick and leaned forward as if he were nearsighted and had forgotten his glasses.
The engines roared even louder and the plane continued to head toward the roof.
At the very last moment, the plane cleared the roof and a runway appeared. Apparently the building had hidden it from view.
Ariel let out a sigh of relief. Duke brought the plane down on the runway too fast. The plane bounced, rose in the air again, then sank to the ground, the squeal of brakes so loud that Ariel’s ears hurt.
She could smell burning rubber, and she knew if she looked behind them, she would probably see smoke, tire marks, and maybe sparks.
Oh, good. Sparks. That was just what they needed, given the fuel fumes inside the cabin.
Duke brought the plane to a complete stop. Ariel’s fingers were permanently embedded in the passenger seat. She’d need to get them surgically removed.
A fiftyish woman with straight gray hair made her way to the side of the plane. She slid a tiny stepladder to the door and then pulled it open.
“You Ariel?” she asked.
Ariel nodded.
The woman held out her hand. “Evelyn. I got a car waiting. Let’s get you to the hospital.”
Ariel tried to protest, but it had no effect. Within minutes, she’d been bundled out of the plane and into the tiniest car she’d ever seen.
She managed to say good-bye to Duke and to thank him, but in the confusion, she wasn’t able to ask him any more questions. And she wanted to know why he thought this Andrew Vari was paying for her plane flight, not Darius.
She wanted a lot of answers, and she hadn’t gotten them. In fact, the flight left her with more questions than she’d had before.
* * *
Darius couldn’t take the silence any more. One night without her—after only one night with her—and he was going out of his mind, questioning his decisions, worrying that he had made the wrong choice.
Being alone in the wilderness had lost its appeal. He needed some reassurance, but he wasn’t going to get it here.
Not that he had anyone to confide in. All these years, all this time, and he hadn’t talked to anyone about his sentence, his predicament. No one at all.
In the middle of the night, he had thought he might just see the Fates, challenge them, find out why they had sent Cupid to him, why they were still testing him, but in the clear light of morning, he decided that was a bad idea. What if he angered them all over again? Then they might add extra time on to his sentence. He couldn’t have that.
He thought of going to see Cupid, to find out what the little bugger had done this time. That idea seemed even better than visiting the Fates—until he really examined it. What if Cupid had done nothing, had really come to see an old friend just as he had said? Or what if he had just come to mess with Dar’s mind?
If Darius visited him, then Cupid would know he had won.
Visiting Cupid would have to be his last resort.
But by morning, Darius was pacing. He had to do something. He couldn’t stay here, alone with his thoughts, his worries. If he remained here much longer, he would probably lose control. He’d go to the hospital and see if he could find out what happened to Ariel. And then all his resolve would be for nothing.
He took a long walk and whistled all the music he could remember from Camelot, but even that shameful episode in his past wasn’t helping his resolve.
No. He had to do something else—and quickly.
After a moment’s consideration, he finally had a good idea. He had to remind himself what he was working for. Besides himself, of course. If he were only thinking of himself, he would go see Ariel. He would have no choice.
Instead, he snapped his fingers and found himself sitting on a concrete bench on a university campus. Behind him was a square Greek revival building, across the street was some odd concoction of styles, all of which meshed into what was obviously a student union, and across from him was a concrete library that looked like it doubled as a bomb shelter.
The air was hot and humid, and sweat trickled down his back. Not too far from him, children played in a shallow fountain. Students, wearing as little as possible, lay on the grass, reading books and talking softly to each other.
Darius frowned. He’d wanted to see the last couple he’d united—Michael and Emma Found—but he’d thought he was going to their home. His magic had to be malfunctioning. He didn’t see them anywhere.
Then he heard Emma’s laugh, loud and feminine at the same time. She was standing a few yards from him, her long black hair wrapped around the top of her head. She wore a sundress that revealed most of her back, and she was barefoot. Around her wrist, she’d wrapped a leash.
Darius followed its length and saw a fat and sassy black cat at the end of it, studiously eating a piece of grass.
Michael Found stood beside Emma. He was dressed as casually as she was, and laughing just as hard. They’d been married now for almost a year, and they seemed happy.
Then Emma turned sideways, and Darius gasped. She was pregnant. He hadn’t been sure that was possible, with the way that magic worked and her strange life. But she was—and for her, that was a dream come true.
He almost stood up so that he could congratulate her. But she wouldn’t recognize him. None of his old friends knew what he really looked like.
Instead, he smiled. If he hadn’t visited Michael Found, reenacting that old Ghost of Christmas Present scam, the two of them wouldn’t be together. In fact, Emma might not be alive right now.
Darius had almost forgotten that.
Michael bent over and picked up the cat, Darnell, who growled loud enough for Darius to hear. Then Michael and Emma walked toward Darius. Darius’s heart pounded.
Emma didn’t even notice him, but Michael nodded to him, clearly not recognizing him. Darnell, though, got a strange look in his golden eyes. He climbed up Michael’s shoulder and continued to stare at Darius as the three of them walked toward the Union. Then Darnell gave the kitty equivalent of a shrug, and slipped back into Michael’s arms.
Emma scratched the cat on the head before slipping her arm around Michael’s back. He rested his head on top of hers. They looked like the perfect couple, walking off into the sunset—at least until the cat yowled at them.
Darius grinned. Some things never changed.
Then Darius stood and walked in the other direction, toward a group of outdoor food vendors and more university buildings. He didn’t understand Emma’s attraction to the University of Wisconsin—especially with its hot, humid summers—but he did love a good bratwurst every now and then.
He bought one, along with a beer, and sat in the sunshine, watching the coeds and reminding himself that he had only one more couple to go.
One more.
One more and he would be free.
He found himself wondering if, once he were free, he’d be able to see Ariel again, and then h
e shook his head.
He couldn’t think of that. He couldn’t afford to. Even if she was the woman of his dreams, it wouldn’t work. He would live for thousands of years, if he were lucky. She would live maybe to seventy-five. He’d known mortals who’d grown old and died on him. It was hard enough with friends.
He couldn’t imagine how painful it would be with a lover.
No. Ariel was part of something that was not meant to be. And the sooner he understood that deep down, the better.
EIGHT
ARIEL SLID DOWN the driver’s seat in her rental car, her broken ankle throbbing. The Idaho morning was cool and cloudy, leaving the valley dark even though it was past seven a.m.
Emerald Aviation looked abandoned. There were no planes on the runway, and only three cars in the parking lot—the tiny car that Evelyn had used to drive Ariel to the hospital after the flight; a rusted one-ton pick-up that was probably going to fall apart in the next good wind; and an expensive Mercedes roadster that looked like it wanted nothing to do with its poorer companions.
Cars passed on the highway, people staring at her. Or maybe she just thought they were staring at her. How often did a person sit in Emerald Aviation’s parking lot, waiting for a single-engine plane to return from the wilderness? Probably not that often. Either that or the locals thought she was a hick tourist too scared to get out of the car.
There was some truth in that as well.
She’d been planning to come here for nearly a week now. The doctors had told her to go easy on the leg and not attempt the long drive down to Boise for at least a few days—even if she could find someone to drive her. The problem was that Idaho’s north-south highway cut through some of the remotest parts of the state, and there were no really good places to stop between McCall and Boise.
Initially, she had pooh-poohed the idea. Then she had rented the car and discovered that driving across the tiny town was painful because of the way she had to hold her leg. Driving for hours would be excruciating.
Her leg throbbed now because she had made the drive to nearby Donnelly, where Emerald Aviation was. She couldn’t get Duke’s comments out of her mind—the fact that he hadn’t known Darius, that Andrew Vari was a separate person, and that Vari had paid for her medical care.
She’d asked questions in McCall, questions about Vari and about Darius. Everyone who had met Vari remembered him and had some anecdote (usually negative) about him. No one remembered Darius. Since he was so gorgeous and so nice, no one who had seen him would have forgotten him.
It got curiouser and curiouser.
McCall was a resort town. Most of Boise’s middle class—the ones who couldn’t afford Sun Valley—visited McCall year-round. In the summer, they golfed, hiked, and swam in gorgeous Payette Lake. In the winter, they skied, skated, and made ice sculptures. They bought vacation homes and spent too much money. The locals tolerated them, and found ways to make a quick buck off of them, just like any other resort town.
Ariel had been to McCall before with friends, but then she had camped. This time, though, she treated herself to a stay in McCall’s best resort—Shore Lodge. Shore Lodge was over eighty years old, with gorgeous remodeled rooms and a spectacular view of the lake.
Ariel had taken breakfast every morning on the deck, enjoying the summer flowers blooming in pots nearby and watching vacationers water-ski on the flat blue water.
She tried not to envy them. She wasn’t having the athletic vacation she had planned. She was having a reflective one, though, in a beautiful setting, eating too much and spending too much time alone.
Amazing that hiking through the wilderness wasn’t a lonely experience, but here, in the most beautiful hotel she had ever stayed in, surrounded by people she didn’t know, she felt lonelier than she had in her life.
Part of it was because she was at loose ends. She wasn’t used to being inactive. The cast on her foot prevented her from doing anything athletic—she couldn’t even take a few relaxing laps across the Lodge’s heated swimming pool. No walking, no hiking, no running, no swimming, no golf. She could do nothing except sit and watch the people go by, and wonder what their lives were like.
Oddly, she wasn’t feeling sorry for herself. Just a bit tired and out of sorts. She had too much time to think about that night with Darius, and then the next morning. She had reread his note a dozen times, and she still didn’t understand it.
When she combined the events with the note and the conversation she’d had with Duke, she got even more confused.
So sometime during her solitary week, she’d gotten the idea to come and talk to the mysterious Andrew Vari. He would be able to answer a few questions for her. He would be able to tell her Darius’s last name and how she could contact him. She had a few things to return to him, like his crutches. He might even be able to tell her what Darius’s personal business had been that morning, and why he hadn’t said good-bye.
Deep down, though, she was hoping that Darius would be with Vari, and she would get to see him one last time.
Ariel got out of the car. The ache in her ankle was deeper than she wanted it to be. She was never very good at healing. Healing required patience. She had probably done the most damage to her rotator cuff by trying to use her shoulder too soon after the injury. The doctors had yelled at her, then.
This time, she was trying to be careful, but it was hard. She hated being restricted. The fact that the drive caused her leg to ache irritated her. She wanted to snap her fingers and heal the bone, but that wasn’t possible.
And if there was anything she hated, it was the impossible.
A wind blew across her face. It was damp and smelled of rain. She glanced at the clouds. They were darker than she had originally thought, and they looked ominous. In the distance, she thought she saw lightning.
Storms in the mountains were never pretty. They were violent and strong and dangerous. Mountain folk always prayed for rain with the storms because lightning was dangerous. Summers were dry up here, and when lightning struck, the wilderness burned. Wildfires destroyed hundreds of acres every summer and sometimes threatened remote towns like McCall and Donnelly.
She shielded her eyes with her hand, while clutching the crutches to her sides for balance. Against the clouds she made out a tiny shape.
It looked like a plane, but she couldn’t hear the engine.
Thunder rumbled overhead and lightning flared, illuminating the shape. Sure enough, it was a small plane flying just ahead of the storm.
Ariel shuddered. Flying with Duke had been a bad experience on a clear sunny day. She couldn’t imagine what it would be like in the wind, with a storm on the plane’s tail.
The plane pitched and dove, tilting first to one side and then to the other. Big fat drops of rain suddenly pelted Ariel, and she hobbled toward the building. As she did, a gust of wind came up, blowing dirt and gravel across the parking lot.
The plane pitched even more.
Her stomach twisted. These were the worst conditions in which to fly a small plane like that. She hoped Duke’s skills were up to the landing.
She made it to the shelter of the building’s back wall. Evelyn was standing there, hand shielding her face, much like Ariel had earlier, a look of strain on her face.
“Thought I might see you,” Evelyn said, not taking her gaze off the plane. “Figured you’d want to meet Vari.”
Ariel had told her the entire story on the way to the hospital. “I owe him.”
Evelyn nodded, her expression tight. The rain was coming down in sheets now, and the plane looked like it was in trouble.
Ariel leaned against the building, trying to stay dry. She couldn’t take her gaze off that airplane, tilting and rising on the wind. Lightning flared behind it again, and then a flash seemed to come from inside the plane itself.
She almost thought she heard a nasal voice utter a curse just before that last lightning flare. The voice sounded like it had come over a loudspeaker, but she didn’t see any, and Evelyn act
ed as if she hadn’t heard a thing.
But the plane leveled out. In fact, it didn’t even seem to be getting wet any longer. Ariel could have sworn that the water was bouncing off an invisible barrier about three feet above the plane—like someone had raised a clear plastic umbrella over the entire area.
She didn’t like that analogy. Umbrellas attracted lightning.
The plane positioned itself over the runway. Evelyn bit her lower lip. Ariel clutched her crutches tighter. A gust of wind pelted her with rain. The drops weren’t big and fat any more. They were thin and sharp and hurt as they slashed her skin.
But the plane didn’t seem as if it were affected by the rain at all. It came down smoothly. In fact, the landing was a hundred times smoother than the one Duke had managed with her inside—on that clear, windless day.
Ariel frowned. No one flew better in dismal weather.
Evelyn ran toward the plane, her umbrella over her head. She slid the tiny stepladder up to the plane’s door as she had when Ariel had been on board, and then she stepped back.
The plane’s door opened, and Ariel’s breath caught in her throat. She watched as a small leg, clad in pristine white, found the step.
The man who followed was tiny, just as Duke had said, and he did look something like a Disney character—or, more accurately, Edward G. Robinson from his more famous gangster movies, shrunk down to one-half his normal size.
The small man—Vari, apparently—was wearing a white suit and a summer hat. In fact, he looked as if he had just left the Casablanca movie set. His clothes were pressed and extremely neat, considering the plane he’d just been in. They didn’t seem disturbed by the weather either.
A spate of rain hit her face again, and she wiped the water off with one hand. Vari had stopped on the stairs. His gaze had met hers, and there was something very familiar about it. In fact, she had underestimated his looks a moment earlier. She felt drawn to him, as if beneath those mushed features and oft-broken nose lurked the kindest man she had ever seen.
She had met him before. She was sure of it.
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