Darius nodded. Then he frowned. “You spilled something.”
“I know,” she said. “I was just going to clean it up.”
“Give it a moment,” he said. “I need to talk to you.”
“I’ve been searching for you for months,” she said, not willing to tell him she’d given up weeks ago. “I think you can wait a few minutes while I get the orange juice off my shirt.”
She didn’t wait for his response. Instead, she went to the bedroom and changed clothes, feeling oddly exposed with him in the next room.
She should have been excited that he was here. Three months ago, she would have thrown herself in his arms. But now, she wasn’t sure how she felt.
He was a complication, one she didn’t want. She had been hoping it was Vari at the door, so that she could talk to him. Maybe he would apologize, take her in his arms, tell her that he cared for her.
Instead, he sent his elusive friend and his dog.
That irritated her. She wasn’t sure why, but it did. Was it a slap in the face or a way to reestablish trust between them? Or was Darius the bad penny Vari had said he was, the kind of man who always took advantage of a difficult situation?
Well, he wouldn’t take advantage of her. She slipped on the T-shirt she’d gotten at the race, and a different pair of jeans. Her stomach was still sticky, but she’d deal with that later.
When she entered the living room again, she saw Darius standing by the couch. He was looking at the newspapers, a frown on his face, as if he didn’t approve.
How much did he know? Did he know that she had fallen in love with his friend? Did he know that she had left her job so that she would never have to face Andrew Vari again? Did he know that she had searched for him first, thinking him to be someone he wasn’t?
He looked up, and she felt an unexpected jolt. So there was a pull between them, even when she didn’t want it. And he still looked sad. She didn’t remember him being this sad.
“Ariel,” he said, “do you believe in magic?”
Whatever she had expected him to say, it wasn’t that. It sounded like a cheap pickup line.
“Magic?” she asked, trying not to keep the contempt out of her voice. “If you’re going to try something that tired, why not ask me if I believe in love at first sight?”
His expression didn’t change. “Ariel, please. This is hard enough.”
“What is? Coming to see me after six months? There were no promises between us, Darius.”
“Ariel—”
“I just wish things had been different. I tried to find you. Didn’t Andrew Vari tell you? Or did he protect you to the last?”
“Ariel, please—”
“Am I making you uncomfortable?” She took a step toward him. All the anger and frustration from the day filled her. “Well, I was uncomfortable for a long time. That kiss threw me, and then you disappeared on me, as if I wasn’t worth anything.”
“Ariel, it wasn’t like that—”
“I tried to get information to you, but your friend protected you, just like he was supposed to.” She straightened. “He’s twenty times the man you are. He’s good-hearted and warm, and loyal.”
Darius’s mouth opened slightly. This time he didn’t try to say anything.
She took another step forward. “He just got in trouble with a good friend of his because of me, and I don’t really have the time to deal with you. I have to solve this other problem first.”
Darius extended a hand as if he were going to try and stop her. “Ariel, you have to listen to me.”
“I don’t have to listen to anything, Darius. All I have to do is go to Quixotic and make Blackstone realize I don’t want his silly job, and that he needs to rehire his old friend. He overreacted and—”
“No, Ariel, he didn’t overreact.” Darius’s voice was soft.
She frowned at him. He finally had her attention.
“He was right.”
She shook her head slightly. “Andrew Vari sticks up for you and you stab him in the back first thing? You really are as bad as he says. You’re very pretty to look at, but that’s all. There’s nothing else to you, is there? No loyalty, no—”
“Ariel.” This time he spoke forcefully. “Sit down.”
“I’m not Munin,” she said.
“Please,” he said. “You have to hear me out.”
“I don’t have to do anything.” She was resolved now. He had clarified her thoughts. She did need to go to Quixotic and talk to Blackstone, and then she had to leave Portland. The last thing Vari needed was for her to be mixed up in his life again.
“Yes,” Darius said, “you do.”
There was nothing she could say to that. Instead, she turned and headed toward the door. She would see if Vari was right. If she left Darius alone, he’d probably search the place, take what little she had.
Not that it mattered. There was nothing here she really cared about.
“Come on, Munin,” she said as she grabbed the doorknob. “Let’s take you back to your owner.”
The puppy whined.
Ariel tugged on the door, but it didn’t open. “What the—?”
“It stays closed, Ariel,” Darius said.
“What?” She turned around. “What are you talking about?”
“The door. I’m going to hold it closed until you listen to me.”
“It’s stuck, Darius,” she said. He had a strange sense of humor. “You have nothing to do with it.”
He waved a hand, and suddenly she was sitting on the couch. She had no idea how she got there.
“What was that?” she asked, trying not to show how unsettled she was.
“Magic,” he said, and sat down on the rocking chair across from her. Munin looked back and forth between both of them as if he wasn’t sure what they were going to do.
“Magic,” she said, feeling unsettled. What had Darius done? How come she didn’t remember crossing the room?
He nodded. “You’ve seen edges of it your whole life.”
“Edges of what?” She wasn’t really following him. Instead, she was frowning at the door, trying to figure out how she’d lost some seconds of her life. He hadn’t given her anything to eat or drink. Her head didn’t hurt. She felt very funny, though.
“Magic,” he said again.
“What about magic?” She finally focused on him. “Why are you talking about magic?”
“Because I should have told you about it a long time ago.”
She blinked. “Huh?”
He looked down, then ran his hands through his hair. “Oh, God, Ariel, I don’t know how to start this.”
“How to start what?”
“Telling you everything.”
She shook her head. Lost seconds or no, she wasn’t staying here any longer. She stood. “You can tell me later. I’m going to Quixotic.”
“To see Andrew Vari,” he said. It wasn’t a question.
“Yes. That’s what I said.”
He nodded. “Even though I barred the door and pulled you back here, you insist on seeing him.”
She frowned at him. “I thought you were his friend.”
“No,” Darius said quietly. “I’ve never been his friend.”
She snapped her fingers. “Munin, come on.”
The puppy looked at Darius as if asking for permission.
“Ariel,” Darius said, “no matter what I tell you, you’re going to be mad at me, but this might be easier if you just listen for a minute.”
She headed toward the door. Munin was not following her and she didn’t feel good leaving the dog alone with this man. She walked back, scooped the puppy in her arms, and felt him wriggle. He was as focused on Darius as he had been on Andrew Vari. What was it about Darius? Some sort of pheromone that he gave off that appealed to helpless women and puppies?
“So I’m sorry to tell you this way,” Darius was saying, “but I see no other choice.”
She turned away from him again and headed toward the door.
If it didn’t open this time, she was going through the window.
A light flashed behind her, and Munin whined, struggling hard in her arms. She gripped him tightly with her left arm while reaching for the door with her right.
“Ariel.”
A shiver ran up her spine. That voice belonged to Andrew Vari. How had he gotten in? She had locked the back door. In fact, she never unlocked it.
She looked over her shoulder.
Andrew Vari was sitting where Darius had been.
Munin wriggled out of her arms and slid down to the floor. Then he ran to Vari, his tail wagging happily.
“Where’s Darius?” she asked. “How did you get here?”
“You let me in,” he said.
“I didn’t let you in,” she said.
“Yes,” he said. “You did. Just a minute ago.”
“You came in with Darius?”
“In a manner of speaking.”
“What manner of speaking?”
“This manner.” He snapped his fingers. His entire body was wrapped in white light. The light got so bright that it blinded her, and when the light cleared, Darius was sitting in the chair.
His arms were in the same position Vari’s had been in. He was even wearing the same clothes—only they were larger to accommodate his frame.
“Whatever it is you two are doing to me,” she said, “I don’t like it. It stops now.”
“Sit down, Ariel, please,” he said.
“I don’t take orders from you.” She crossed her arms. This was getting creepy. “Where’s Andrew?”
“Right here,” Darius said.
She looked around the room. “Where?”
He raised his eyebrows. The look transformed his face. He was impossibly handsome. She should have been suspicious of that from the start. Men who were impossibly handsome were trouble.
“You want to hold my hand this time?” he asked.
“What do you mean?”
He held out his hand.
She shook her head. “I’m not touching you.”
“It’s the only way you’ll believe me.”
“That’s a new one.” She hugged herself even tighter.
“Ariel, please, I’m trying to tell you. I am Andrew Vari. Really.”
“And I’m Raquel Welch.” She held herself so tightly that she could feel her fingers dig into her ribs. “Get out of my house.”
“Ariel—”
“Get out.” She had lowered her voice even though she wanted to scream.
Munin was sitting between them, his tail thumping worriedly on the floor.
Darius studied her for a moment, then he nodded. “All right.” He sounded disappointed. “All right. I’ll leave.”
He stood up. Munin watched him, not moving.
Darius walked toward her. Ariel decided she wasn’t going to move either. He wasn’t going to intimidate her. He wasn’t going to have any effect on her at all.
As he brushed past her, he reached out and swung her around. He pulled her against him. Her arms were trapped against his chest. She tried to move them, but she couldn’t.
“Ariel,” he said softly. “Please listen to me.”
She struggled against him, slipping her right hand down until it was below her left elbow. Then she started to move her right arm away from her body.
At that moment, a bright light enveloped her, blinding her. Her arms popped free, but she still felt hands—his hands. They had slid down her back until they rested just above her buttocks. Only he hadn’t loosened his grip. His hands had just…moved.
The light faded. She staggered and nearly fell, but he held her up. Sort of. She looked down.
Andrew Vari had his arms around her. He was looking up at her with those sad eyes. When their gazes met, he let go.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “You had to know it was real.”
“What’s real?” She was whispering and she didn’t know why.
“What you were seeing. I am Darius, Ariel. That’s the name I was born with, two thousand, eight hundred and one years ago.”
She could still feel his arms around her. Both sets. The tall arms that had held her against a firm, muscular chest, and the short arms which had struggled to clasp her near her hips.
She had seen it. She had felt it, and dammit, deep down she did believe it. She knew that he wasn’t lying to her.
Because the eyes were the same. Both men had the same gorgeous blue eyes. The same sad blue eyes.
She walked over to her couch, amazed that her knees could hold her. When she reached it, she sat down. Munin jumped up beside her and licked her arm. She petted him absently.
“Two thousand years ago?” Somehow she believed that too. “How is that possible?”
Vari walked back to his original chair and sat down. “There are a group of us—how many I don’t know—who are born with magic. We’re not the same as mortals. With the magic comes an extraordinarily long life. If we use too much magic, the life gets cut shorter. But I’ve lived almost three thousand years, and I’m sure that unless I do something stupid, I have a thousand more.”
“A thousand years.” Maybe she had lapsed into a coma after her run. Maybe she was dreaming all of this.
Munin licked her again and whined. Poor dog. All of this on his first day with a new owner.
“Blackstone is one of us, and Nora will be some day.”
“Will be?” Ariel asked.
“Women don’t come into their powers until after menopause. Something about surging hormones, I guess.”
He smiled as he said that, but she could tell he wasn’t really joking.
“I’m not one, though, am I?” she asked. “That’s why you’ve been brushing me off. Because I’m just a fruitfly compared to you.”
“No, Ariel, that’s not it.” He ran his hands through his hair. “May I change back? I’m using a lot of magic for this right now.”
“So?” she asked. “You always look like that.”
He shook his head. “This is part of the problem. I have so much to tell you.”
Munin whined again. Ariel could feel her heart beating as if she had just finished a long run.
Vari sat still, as if he were waiting for her to say something, which, apparently, he was. He had asked for her permission, after all.
“Okay,” she said. “Change back.”
The white light flared again. It didn’t startle Munin. For a young pup, that dog was amazingly calm. The light didn’t startle her as much either. In fact, she had seen a lot of light like that, starting after her fall. In the cabin. When she’d first met Darius.
Darius, who was now sitting across from her. She could see it now. They were the same man. Their facial shape was exactly the same, long and narrow. Vari’s features were Darius’s, only exaggerated. On Andrew Vari, Darius’s Roman nose became a broken beak. His fine thin lips were stretched to non-existence. His high forehead became a round bald ridge.
Even their build was the same. Darius had broad shoulders, and so did Vari. The only difference was in length. Vari was a truncated version—a man, literally, cut off at the knees.
“I’m so sorry,” he said. Darius’s voice was musical where Vari’s was made of gravel. A beautiful voice distorted through a synthesizer, or ruined by too many cigarettes. Or maybe by a larynx that had been truncated too.
“For what?” she asked.
Darius ran his hands through his hair—long fingers through golden curls this time—and shook his head. “Can you just listen to me for five minutes?”
“All right.” She folded her hands on her lap like a student and braced herself against the couch.
“When I was a young man,” he said, “which is a very long time ago now, I was a famous athlete. An arrogant, nasty, horrible person who had just come into his magic.”
“I thought you said your people didn’t come into their magic until they got older.”
“I said women didn’t. Men get theirs at 21.”
“Like men have no hormonal problems at that age,” she muttered.
He smiled, but it was a distracted smile. “We have a lot of problems at that age, and I had most of them worse than others. I was an idiot, Ariel. An idiot and an asshole and the worst kind of person. Everything I told you about me—about Darius—was true.”
His voice was trembling. His eyes wouldn’t leave hers, and she felt herself being drawn into them in spite of herself. She remembered that conversation in the deli vividly. He had called Darius—himself—all sorts of foul things. Did he actually feel that way about himself? No one should feel that way about himself. No one at all.
“I did something unpardonable. I—ah, hell. It’s almost impossible to explain.”
“Unpardonable,” she repeated. “You were a serial killer?”
He smiled. It was a relieved smile. “No.”
“So you murdered just one person.”
He shook his head. “No, no. Nothing like that.”
“Then what’s unpardonable?” she asked, feeling even more confused than she had a moment ago.
“I was told that I might have made true love impossible.”
“For you.”
“For anyone.”
She frowned. “What are you talking about? Does your magic put you in charge of us lowly—what did you call us?—mortals?”
He stood and walked around the chair. “I’m going about this all wrong. Look, Ariel. We’re not better than you. We’re just different. And because of our longer lifespan, we have more of an effect on history. That’s all. What I did was, I interfered with something I shouldn’t have because I was stupid.”
“What did you do?”
He shook his head. “I’m not going to explain it. Not yet. I—ah, hell.”
Munin leaped off the couch and ran to him, jumping up on his hind legs and pawing at Darius’s thigh.
“He thinks I should tell you,” Darius said.
“He—Munin?” She felt surprised. She wasn’t sure why she felt surprised. The whole afternoon was strange enough that she shouldn’t have felt surprised about anything.
“He’s my familiar.”
“He’s your new pet. I just bought him for you. For Andrew Vari, actually, but I guess that’s you.” She sounded bitter, and she hadn’t meant to. But she didn’t take it back.
“That’s why you thought he should be mine. Because you see magic around the edges of things. Most people don’t see white lights when spells get cast. Most people can’t track magic to its source, but you did. Blackstone told me about that day in the restaurant.”
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