The Lost Enchantress

by Patricia Coughlin

  Eve looked around for Hazard, who had only reluctantly allowed her out of his sight, and she spotted him standing across the room with several firefighters. She felt a telltale little lurch of her heart when their eyes met and the corners of his mouth lifted ever so slightly. There was something different about the way he was looking at her. It might simply be that he was smiling at her, after having spent most of the day doing his best to appear aloof as if he hadn’t enjoyed last night and wished it had never happened. She wasn’t buying it. He might wish it hadn’t happened, for some mysterious reason known only to him, but he had enjoyed it. He’d wanted her last night the same way she’d wanted him—against all reason. And that morning, when he opened his bedroom door and saw her, he’d wanted her all over again, the same way she’d wanted him.

  Crossing the room to join him proved to be like swimming against the tide as nearly everyone there crowded closer to marvel at Allie and congratulate her. Dr. Abrams’ latest triumph had the entire unit abuzz, and a steady stream of nurses and doctors appeared to see it for themselves. Matt was sent to fetch the cake Olivia had brought along to celebrate the occasion, in the fervent hope there would be something to celebrate.

  It was the sort of joyous, heart-and-soul-satisfying moment life doesn’t dole out too often, and Eve was still savoring the high an hour later when she and Hazard left the burn center and all those happy revelers who had no idea they were celebrating not—as they repeated over and over to each other—a miracle of modern medicine, but the power of ancient blood magic.

  She was prepared for regrets, braced for them in fact, and to be honest, given her track record with magic, a little après uneasiness wouldn’t be out of order. But she felt only a sense of peace, and gratitude. Walking beside Hazard to the elevator, she offered a silent thanksgiving that it had been within her power to help Allison, and that by the grace of everything good she’d managed it without any blunders or repercussions. None she was aware of anyway, and she wasn’t about to go looking.

  “Why did you do it?” Hazard asked when they were alone in the elevator.

  Eve kept her expression carefully blank. “Do what?”

  “Play miracle worker.”

  He knew. It didn’t really come as a surprise to her. It might even explain the subtle change she sensed in his demeanor. That didn’t mean she wanted to discuss it with him right then and there, before she’d had a chance to sort out her own feelings. Which she was also in no big hurry to do. She was content to ride this wave of uncomplicated glee just a little while longer.

  “I don’t know what you mean,” she said.

  “Yes, you do. I’m not a doctor, but I know that girl’s face was beyond extraordinary. And unlike everyone else there, I know it wasn’t an act of God. I . . . felt it. I felt you . . . your power. The same as I did the night of the auction, and the feeling is unmistakable . . . like being exhilarated and having someone swing a hammer inside my skull at the same time,” he explained, briefly kneading his forehead. “But that’s not the point. Why did you do it?”

  Eve stared at her reflection in the polished steel elevator door; unlike a mirror, it rendered an image that was devoid of details and fuzzy around the edges. She thought it strangely apropos since at the moment she was feeling a little fuzzy on the inside too. She didn’t want to have to think too deeply about all this, and she didn’t have to; the answer to his question was suddenly just there.

  She turned and met his waiting gaze. “I didn’t plan to; it was a spur-of-the-moment decision. I did it because someone I trust a great deal told me that if you can do good in this world, you ought to. Today I had a chance to do good and I took it. End of story.”

  There was a pause. Eve felt his gaze on her and was glad when the elevator stopped and the doors opened.

  “That someone you trust . . . it was your grandmother, wasn’t it?” he asked as they stepped out into the lobby.

  Eve glanced at him and nodded. “How did you know?”

  “I hear it in your voice when you talk about her, and I see it in your eyes.”

  His deep voice turned the words into a kind of verbal caress and her senses tingled accordingly. She couldn’t help it; it felt good knowing he paid such careful attention and understood her so well. Encouraged by his interest, she found herself talking to him about Grand on the walk to the car, and about her grandfather and his reasons for going to war.

  “If he had the courage to risk and sacrifice as much as he did,” she said, “I figured I ought to be able to rustle up enough to put my own fear aside and do whatever I could to help one girl who got dealt a lousy hand.”

  “Is that all this was, Eve? A one-time thing? End of story.”

  She gave a small shrug. “I don’t know. If you’d asked me a few days ago, I would have been able to tell you exactly how I felt and what I wanted. Of course, a few days ago the question would never have come up; a few days ago I wouldn’t have done it, I wouldn’t have dared. As for the future . . .” She shrugged again. “I guess if we do get the talisman back—”

  He broke in. “When we get it back.”

  She smiled, aware of how they’d switched sides since the last time they’d had that little exchange. “When we get it back, I’ll have to come up with some answers.”

  He opened the car door for her and as she got in, Eve noticed a suitcase on the backseat that she hadn’t noticed earlier.

  She waited until he got in and hitched her thumb toward the backseat. “Going somewhere?”

  “Not exactly.”

  Evasion if ever she’d heard it.

  “You know, I have that same luggage,” she told him. The same in that hers was also basic black. Accuracy was irrelevant; the comment was her way of keeping the subject warm without appearing too nosy.

  “Actually, you don’t,” he countered, backing the car out of the parking spot. “You have that luggage.”

  “Er . . . right. That’s what I said. I have that same luggage.”

  “That is yours,” he said more emphatically. “That’s your suitcase.”

  She whipped her head around for a closer look and recognized her luggage tag and the black and white checked ribbon she’d tied to the handle to make it easier to spot amongst all the other basic black bags on the baggage belt at the airport.

  “How did it get in the backseat of your car?” she asked him.

  “Your grandmother packed it for you and then turned it over to Taggart, who brought it here and left it in my car.”

  “Why?” she asked, leaping directly from not having a clue what was going on to having so many thoughts and suspicions circling her brain it was hard to latch on to just one.

  “Do you mean why did he bring it here?” he asked, glancing at her.

  She nodded.

  “I thought you might want to take a look at what your grandmother packed in case she missed anything. If she did, we can stop at a store and pick up whatever you need. I considered not involving her at all and just buying everything myself, but it occurred to me you might be more comfortable with your own things. It’s been a while, but I do remember how particular women can be about their powders and lotions and whatnot.”

  She decided to let that go. “I meant why do I need a suitcase in the first place.”

  “Because I’ve decided you should stay with me until this is over.”

  Eighteen

  “Your grandmother agreed with me wholeheartedly when I explained it to her,” he went on in the face of Eve’s bewildered silence. “You’re right to trust her. She has good instincts.”

  “You decided?” She was working to piece together what was happening, but that piece jumped up and demanded to be addressed right away. “Did it occur to you that women can also be particular about having decisions made for them . . . and that maybe you ought to ask me before you started packing?”

  “As a matter of fact it did. Unfortunately, you were busy working a miracle and I didn’t have time to waste. I guarantee you Pavane�
�s not wasting his.”

  It was tough to trump that argument. Slightly deflated, she leaned back and waited while he paid the parking attendant and pulled onto the street. “So you meant it when you threatened not to let me out of your sight.”

  He nodded. “My first thought was to just follow you around and keep an eye on you, but I think we need to be more organized than that or we risk having Pavane take us by surprise a second time. It would be a mistake to underestimate him. Our best chance is to pool our resources and face him together. You have magic, I don’t; what I do have is what you’re short on: knowledge.”

  She nodded slowly. “Agreed. But why am I the one with the suitcase? It would have been just as easy for you to pack a bag and stay at my place for a few days.”

  She was grousing mostly to make a point. She shuddered to think of bringing Hazard home for an indefinite stay, knowing Grand and Rory would relish the chance to pepper him with questions and observe the two of them together. Not that the prospect of staying at his place didn’t put her on edge, but that was for very different reasons.

  “I arranged it the way I did because I wanted to keep Pavane away from your house, not lure him there. It’s you he wants, and as long as he has the talisman, he’s going to find you wherever you are. I thought you’d prefer for that to happen a safe distance away from your grandmother and niece.”

  “God, yes. Of course.” A new worry caused a furrow between her brows. “But what if he followed Taggart and—”

  Hazard stopped her. “He didn’t. I asked your grandmother to drop the suitcase off at a safe location where Taggart could pick it up once she was safely away. It’s possible Pavane could still find his way to your front door if he’s determined enough, but I don’t plan to make it easy for him.”

  “I should have thought of all this,” she declared, shaking her head in disgust.

  He reached over and briefly covered her hand with his, and the warmth and strength Eve felt made her want to grab it and hold on tight.

  “Don’t be so hard on yourself,” he said. “You’ve had other things on your mind today.”

  “That’s no excuse not to stay on top of things. I couldn’t stand it if anything happened to either one of them. I’d never forgive—”

  She stopped herself; now wasn’t the time to go barreling down the all-too-familiar road paved with self-recrimination. Nothing had happened to them. And now the odds were nothing would. Thanks to Hazard.

  “Hey, Hazard,” she said.

  “Yes?”

  “Thank you for taking care of them for me.”

  He shifted his attention from the road just long enough to meet her gaze. “My pleasure.”

  Neither of them smiled.

  “Would you like a glass of wine?” Hazard asked her shortly after they arrived at his house. They were both a little edgy, a little too polite to each other. Last night had changed things; he was still struggling to grasp the exact dimensions of that change, and he suspected Eve was too. And then there was the looming threat of Pavane ticking relentlessly in the background. It was more than enough to put anyone on edge.

  Eve shot him a wry look. “Nice try. I fell for that line last night, remember?”

  “I remember last night.”

  An understatement, he thought. All day, for long stretches at a time, the memory of last night had burned everything else from his mind. It had also made him cringe at the misguided way he’d messed it all up in the end.

  “I need to explain something,” he said. “I was angry last night . . . with myself. For letting myself get too close to you. I knew better and I let it happen anyway and I was angry. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you, but for what’s its worth, I was trying to do the right thing.”

  “By being rude?”

  “No. By scaring you off.”

  She didn’t smile, but her green eyes sparked with what looked like amusement. “And tonight?”

  “Tonight I know you don’t scare that easily. Eve, I’m sorry for the way I treated you.”

  “Apology accepted. It was a strange night all the way around.”

  “Tonight I really do have wine. Assuming Taggart remembered to pick it up between dropping off your suitcase and embarking on his tour of disreputable otherworld haunts in search of news about Pavane. Let’s find out,” he added, heading toward the kitchen.

  Eve followed along. “He’s gone alone to look for Pavane? Isn’t that dangerous?”

  “Taggart can take care of himself. Just don’t count on seeing him until morning,” he advised, looking around and finally locating a case of wine on the enclosed back porch. He carried it inside and opened it, satisfied with Taggart’s selections. He didn’t give Taggart enough credit, he thought. Starting tomorrow he’d try to do better.

  He froze with the corkscrew in his hand. Starting tomorrow? Since when did he think in terms of tomorrow? Never, that’s when. Not for well over a century anyway, and that was close enough to never. It was just one of many things he never did; he never made new friends, never put someone else’s interests ahead of his own, never went around humming a bloody happy tune. Except in the past twenty-four hours he’d done all those things.

  What was happening to him?

  Unsettled, he pulled a couple of bottles from the case and held them for Eve to choose the one she preferred. She looked up and smiled at him. And he couldn’t pretend not to know the answer.

  Eve. Eve was happening to him.

  He poured two glasses of the pinot noir she favored and handed her one.

  “I have to excuse myself for a few moments to make a phone call,” he told her.

  She put her wine down without tasting it, her eyes clouded. “I thought we were supposed to stick together in case Pavane shows up.”

  “We’ll be close enough, and I won’t be long. I can’t guarantee it, but I don’t think he’ll be able to get in here uninvited.”

  “He didn’t have any problem last time.”

  “Last time he had your help,” he reminded her.

  “And now he has the talisman. Isn’t that a wash?”

  “Not even close. He has the talisman, but to draw on its power he needs you. Besides, this place is a magical fortress; Taggart has been busy setting wards that will reinforce the residual energy throughout the house. According to him, the energy here has a protective feeling, and that makes sense for the home of an enchantress. Your grandmother guarded this place fiercely. The turret especially.”

  “That was Grand’s favorite place for magic,” she explained, a faint smile lifting the corners of her mouth. “All her things were kept there.”

  “It’s also probably the safest place for you . . . but I understand if you’re not ready to go there,” he quickly added when he saw her smile falter. “You’ll find your suitcase in the guest room on the second floor, a television in the den and plenty of food if you’re hungry.”

  “That is good news. I did happen to notice there wasn’t any last night,” she admitted with an unapologetic shrug. “What can I say? I snoop for a living. I don’t think I’ve ever known anyone who didn’t at least have a jar of peanut butter and some stale crackers hanging around.”

  “It’s easier to have what I want delivered when I want it. But given the risk involved, I decided it wasn’t a good idea to have strangers coming and going. You should find most of the food you like; I asked your grandmother for a list.”

  “Thanks. But I’m not sure I can eat. My stomach is . . . jumpy.” She paced a few steps and spun back to face him. “Are you worried?”

  “No.”

  She caught the edge of her bottom lip between her teeth and studied his face, clearly trying to decide if his confidence was genuine. “What then?”

  He didn’t hesitate. “Ready. That’s what I am. I’ve dreamed of this . . . getting another shot at Pavane. When it first happened, I didn’t believe he was telling the truth about the curse. Immortality? Everyone knows that’s impossible. When it became clear he w
as telling the truth, I was happy with the prospect of living forever.” He shook his head, remembering how short-lived that time had been, and how shortsighted he had been.

  “Then I started losing people I cared about, everyone I cared about, and others began to look at me strangely, wondering why they changed and grew older and I didn’t. Hell, I was healthier and faster and stronger than ever. I tried to stay ahead of the suspicion and questions by moving from place to place, avoiding attachments. It wasn’t long until I was avoiding everything, and everyone.”

  “You didn’t have anyone you could trust with the truth?” asked Eve.

  “Did you?”

  She looked away. “I thought I did, once.”

  “And?” He angled his head so he could see more of her face.

  “I was wrong about him.” She said it without bitterness; the soft thread of old pain that wound through her words was almost imperceptible. “It’s a lot to expect anyone to believe, and deal with. Anyone normal, that is.”

  He nodded and drew in a deep breath. “I couldn’t live a normal life. And I wasn’t going to end up a circus freak or a specimen in some lab. By the time I was desperate enough to go to Pavane and beg him to undo whatever he’d done to me, it was too late. He was dead . . . and I was forever screwed. Literally.” He took a gulp of wine, suddenly aware of how much he’d revealed. One more thing he never did.

  “I’ve waited a very long time to repay Pavane. So yes, I’m ready.” He walked over and took her firmly by the shoulders. “And so are you.”

  Eve was too anxious to eat or sit. She ambled restlessly, gazing out windows and carefully avoiding the closed door of Hazard’s study. She’d already admitted to snooping in the man’s cupboards; she didn’t want him to think she eavesdropped as well.

  In the living room she stood and stared at the spot where the ritual had taken place. The rug was back in place, but in her mind she saw the yellow chalk circle and remembered what had happened inside it. And what might have happened if Hazard’s plan hadn’t been ruined by Pavane. A cold, hard knot dropped into the pit of her stomach. If she let herself think about what might have happened, she would shatter, and so she stopped.