Unfortunate Miss Fortunes, The

by Crusie, Jennifer; Dreyer, Eileen; Stuart, Anne

  Dee wanted to close her eyes, to stick her fingers in her ears. God, Xan was good. Satan in Chanel.

  She shoved her hands in her pockets. “Why should I listen to a word you say?”

  “Because you know I’m telling the truth.”

  “A lovely thought. But what if I feel I can’t accept such a generous gift?”

  Xan walked right up to her. “Do you really want to find yourself my age and all alone?”

  “Like you?”

  Xan’s eyes sparked red, betraying her frustration. She looked away a second, and then faced Dee head-on. “Yes. Like me. I chose power, Dee. It’s too late for me to change that. It’s not too late for you.” Dee could smell the cinnamon and sulfur that was Xan’s power signature. It made Dee want to sneeze. Even so, she couldn’t look away from those mesmerizing black eyes.

  “Why am I seeing a Trojan horse in my head?” she asked.

  Xan laughed and shook her head. “You don’t have to trust me. Go to him and you’ll know. I’m just hoping you don’t throw away the best thing that ever happened to you because I brought him to you. I hope you know just what he’s worth.”

  “Because he’s my true love.”

  “Yes.” Xan took Dee’s hand before she could stop her, twining their fingers together until Dee could feel the warmth of Xan’s skin. “Get out of this town, Dee. Go travel the world and find out who Danny James is. Love him. Have babies with him. And if you have to compromise to get him, you should. I promise you, there isn’t anything too great to sacrifice for this chance.”

  Dee was shaken to her toes. She’d never heard Xan sound so sincere. So passionate about anything. She’d never seen ghosts of any kind in her aunt’s eyes. She saw them now. She felt such warmth spread through her, as if Xan had poured it from her fingers.

  Xan straightened, retrieved her hand. Dee stumbled, suddenly off balance and shivery.

  “It would be nice to reestablish a relationship with my nieces,” Xan said. “After you think about this, after you decide what you want to do about Danny, let me know. I’ll help any way I can. I’ve spent the last long years making sure I learned how. Correctly, so I can’t hurt anyone else.”

  And just like that, Dee was alone once again with nothing but a sense of sudden cold and the growing suspicion that for once in her life, Xan had told the truth.

  Elric really was gone. Lizzie couldn’t believe it—when she went through her deserted bedroom back into the workshop, there was no sign of him. She’d assumed he’d just been masking his presence, and she closed her eyes and tried to sense him, tried to conjure up the flowing colors he seemed to emanate, but the air was flat and still. She looked down, and she was barefoot. How odd—even when she didn’t deliberately put shoes on, she always ended up with something interesting on her feet. But ever since she took her shoes off last night, she’d stayed barefoot.

  Never in her life had she gone against her sisters’ will—she was the peacemaker, the problem solver, the one to figure out something that would make everyone happy, or at least marginally satisfied. She’d automatically stepped into the middle of the array he’d drawn on the floor the night before, and she could practically feel him around her, hear his voice in her ear. The rat bastard. He’d told Xan where they were. For all his “oh, I’ll help you,” he’d turned around and given them up. He’d lied and betrayed them. Not only that, but he’d sent her fiancé off to the ends of the earth, and probably given him amnesia, as well, at least as far as she was concerned.

  Bastard. All that shimmering charm was nothing but a charade, just like her father’s facile charisma, and beneath it—

  “Stop thinking so hard.”

  She whirled around. He was standing in the entrance to her workshop, as if he thought he’d be welcome. He’d changed his clothes—whether he’d literally changed what he’d been wearing into something new or had somehow found a new set of clothes, she didn’t know and she didn’t care.

  “You son of a bitch,” she said.

  He seemed undisturbed by her greeting. “Don’t overreact. I’m not the only one who’s arrived in this godforsaken little town. If I hadn’t told her, somebody else would have.”

  “Who else has she sent?”

  “Didn’t you listen to your sisters? Xantippe understands people far too well—she sent exactly the sort of men who’d most distract your sisters. Their soul mates.”

  “Is that what you’re supposed to be? My soul mate?”

  For some reason his laugh sounded slightly hollow. “I think Xantippe thought you wouldn’t be interested in sex. I was simply going to distract you until she arrived.”

  “Why you?”

  “I offered. I came to her in the first place—Xantippe always knows things, and I thought if anyone knew what was upsetting the flow, then she would. She told me it was you.”

  “And sent you to stop me.”

  “I told you, I offered. I have no idea what she wants with you, and I don’t really care. I just wanted to stop you from wreaking havoc.”

  “And how did getting rid of my fiancé serve that purpose?”

  He didn’t look the slightest bit guilty. “He was the wrong man for you, and you knew it. I just saved you the trouble of dumping him.”

  “Why, how thoughtful,” she said, acidly polite. “So if you were so determined to stop me, why did you teach me things? And don’t pretend that you didn’t—I already feel different. I’m more focused. More powerful.”

  “I was afraid of that,” he said, not sounding particularly pleased. “You’re a fast learner. And you’re going to need to know these things sooner or later, I thought I might as well start your education.”

  “Why bother? Why didn’t you just seduce me to shut me up?”

  He looked startled. The violet ring around his pupils seemed to have widened, a dark, smoky look that made her think of long nights and purple silk. “Would it have been that easy?”

  “Would it have been that hard? You assured me you were very good in bed. Wouldn’t it have been simpler to distract me with sex? Unless, of course, you don’t want—”

  “Don’t even go there.” His voice was low, dangerous.

  “Go where?”

  “You know what I’m talking about.”

  The last twenty-four hours had been a mass of simmering emotions and frustrations, feelings she couldn’t even begin to understand, and suddenly she cracked, the last of her nervousness vanishing. She turned on him, coming right up to him as he filled her doorway. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t know why you stayed once you found us, I don’t know why you decided to teach me things, why you sent Charles away, I don’t know why you have such a crazy effect on me.”

  “Sure you do,” he said, sliding his hand behind her neck, pulling her face up to his. “You know too damned well.”

  This time she was prepared. He was going to kiss her, and she steeled herself, determined not to respond. Why should she respond? she thought. She didn’t like him, she’d just been engaged to another man, and besides, she didn’t really like kissing …

  “Maybe you just haven’t been kissed by the right man,” he murmured.

  She jerked away. “You can’t read minds!” If he’d been reading her mind for the last twenty-four hours she was in deep shit.

  “Can’t I?” He seemed no more perturbed than if one of her magicked bunnies had hopped out of his reach. “Normally I can’t. But every now and then I get a glimpse of what’s going on in your tortured little brain, and it terrifies me.”

  “Nothing terrifies you,” she said. “What is it you want from me? You’ve done your job, Xan’s coming. Why are you still here?”

  He shoved his dark blond hair away from his face, the silver earring gleaming against his skin, and his smoky eyes were troubled. Odd, he didn’t seem to be the kind of man who troubled easily. “I’m not sure I know.”

  “Then go away and don’t come back.”

  He stared at her. “That’s
what you really want?”

  “That’s what I really want,” she said. Because if he stayed he’d kiss her again, and she couldn’t afford to let that happen.

  It was that simple. One moment he was lounging in her doorway, all golden beauty and shimmering colors, and the next moment he was gone. She put out her hand, knowing she would feel him if he’d simply altered her perceptions, but nothing was there. He’d really, truly gone. Forever, as she’d asked him to.

  And she burst into tears.

  Lizzie worked on transformations, deliberately messing with the fabric of the universe, until finally she had to admit that he wasn’t coming back. When the full realization hit, she ran. She shoved her bare feet into the first shoes she could find, a pair of feathered mules that Mare had drooled over, grabbed her purse and dashed out of the house, slamming the door behind her. The day was dark and overcast, unseasonably warm, and she could feel the storm brewing, the one that had been dancing over their heads since yesterday. The wind had died down, replaced by a sullen torpor that did nothing for Lizzie’s state of mind. She needed cool, crisp spring air to clear her mind, and instead she was assaulted with the onset of a storm that was almost tropical in intensity.

  She hadn’t even planned where she was heading, and the shoes had been a bad choice. High-heeled mules weren’t exactly boots made for walking, and she stopped to look down at them in frustration. If she tried to change them they might turn into ferrets, and she couldn’t very well walk into town with livestock attached to her feet. But high-heeled, feather-bedecked slides weren’t doing her much good, either.

  She could feel his arms around her, encircling her, bringing her own arms into a circle as his low voice breathed in her ear, filled her head and her body with shivery hot feelings. She needed an array, he’d said, but she couldn’t very well stop and draw one on the sidewalk. It wasn’t going to work, but she had to try. She wrapped her arms around her body, envisioning a circle, trying not to think about Elric’s body pressed up against hers, his heat melting into her bones. She closed her eyes and thought about sneakers.

  They were purple, but at least they were easier to move in. She stared down at them in both triumph and bewilderment. Had it become that easy?

  “That’s wonderful, Lizzie,” a soft voice said, and when Lizzie looked up, Xan was there in all her fanged glory.

  Not that she was really fanged, of course. She looked far younger than her years, which had to be somewhere in her fifties, her raven hair tied up with bejeweled chopsticks stuck in it, her beautiful, pale skin glowing, and she wore a bright red kimono jacket and black silk pants that Lizzie immediately craved. She looked as exotic and out of place as Lizzie had always secretly felt.

  “Darling Lizzie,” Xan said, holding out her arms.

  Lizzie looked at her doubtfully. If Dee had been there, she would have told her to run the other way. If Mare had been there, she would have flung herself into Xan’s arms. As it was, Lizzie was stuck in the middle, unsure which way to go, only knowing instinctively that she didn’t want to piss this woman off. She could feel the amethyst humming against her heart. It was tucked inside her shirt, out of sight, and yet she had the odd sense that Xan could see it quite clearly through the layers of cloth.

  She gave Xan a dutiful hug and a polite peck on her perfect cheek. She smelled of cinnamon and sulfur—an odd combination. “I didn’t realize you were in town,” Lizzie said in a neutral voice.

  “It’s not really my kind of place, is it?” Xan said, looking around. “But then, it’s not really your kind of place, either.” She smiled at Lizzie. “You’d do so much better in Toledo.”

  Lizzie said nothing.

  “And what do you think of Elric?” She ducked her head a little to peer at Lizzie. “I sent him, you know.”

  “I know.”

  “He’s quite extraordinary, isn’t he? And I sent him to you. I’m feeling quite pleased with myself for that.” She made a little comic flourish with her hands. “The perfect aunt.”

  “Why?” Lizzie said, suspicious.

  “Because he’s your destiny, darling. He’s the most powerful sorcerer I’ve ever known, but he’s always been beyond my reach. I thought it was just because he doesn’t like powerful women—he doesn’t, you know, positively loathes them, and I was so besotted with him I was even willing to give up my powers for him—but when I cast a spell to see if I was his true love, I found out … you are.”

  “Yeah, right,” Lizzie said, ignoring the sudden surge inside her. Xan wasn’t telling her something she didn’t already know. She’d taken one look at Elric and known they were mated, bonded, forever.

  She just didn’t have to like it.

  “I’d give anything to be you,” Xan said, and the ring of truth in her voice was undeniable. “Give up my powers, anything. He’s worth any sacrifice. It’s hopeless for me, he’ll never love me, but if I were you …” She leaned close to Lizzie, cinnamon and sulfur again. “Let passion take you, Lizzie. To be Elric’s one true love is a destiny worth any gift.”

  And all I ever wanted was to get rid of my gift, Lizzie thought, looking at Xan’s beautiful, ageless face.

  So why was she suddenly feeling manipulated when her long-lost aunt was telling her to reach for everything she ever wanted, true love and no inconvenient powers?

  But Dee’s decade of warnings still stuck in her brain, and while she might have been spacey, she was never stupid. “What’s in it for you?”

  “For me, darling?” Xan echoed, pulling back. “What could be in it for me? Except your happiness. Happiness and true love.”

  Yeah, right, she thought, but this time she didn’t say it out loud.

  “Go to him, Lizzie. He’s everything you ever wanted.” There was the faint glint of a tear in Xan’s eyes, a real tear, and her voice was true. She took Lizzie’s hand in hers, her fingers twining, and the amethyst went wild. Hot and sparking against her skin, a fiery warning that Xan didn’t seem to notice. “Don’t let your sisters tell you power is more important than love. Nothing is more important than love.”

  She held on for a moment, and then released Lizzie’s hand, turning and walking away, graceful in those beautiful silk pants, the red kimono lifting gently in the wind. Lizzie stared after her, dizzy and confused. That was sincere; she really meant that. But that was also Xan.

  The day had grown suddenly cold, and the amethyst against her skin seemed lifeless, as if, after giving off that major electrical charge, it had burned out. Lizzie pushed her hair out of her face and realized her hand was shaking. On top of everything else, she must be coming down with some kind of flu. It only needed that to make her life complete.

  She needed to get to her sisters, to see if she could reclaim some kind of sanity. Mare had said Mother’s Tattoo Parlor for lunch, and that was as a good a place as any to figure out exactly what was going on, and whether Aunt Xan really was the she-devil of the western world. The cold began to seep into Lizzie’s bones and she hugged herself and turned toward Mother’s, feeling sicker with each step. With luck she wouldn’t have to think about Elric for a very long time.

  Mare got to Value Video!! at ten wearing her work clothes which, since Saturday was Corpse Bride, consisted of a wedding dress and veil she’d found at Goodwill, ripped up, and dyed blue. Dreama met her at the front counter.

  “That’s a great dress,” Dreama said.

  Mare got a box of Junior Mints out of the case and gave it to her.

  “Thank you.” Dreama opened the box. “The leak in the beanbag chair got worse last night. I think we really gotta just move it outta here.”

  “I’ll do it,” Mare said. “Where’s Jude?”

  “In the office discussing sales with William.” Dreama shook her head. “Jude is cute, but he doesn’t have much sensitivity.”

  “You are a keen judge of character,” Mare said.

  Dreama nodded, serious. “When William took his dinner break last night, I got all the sharp objects out of there.�
��

  Mare looked at her, surprised. “Very good, Dreama.”

  Jude came out of the office and smiled when he saw Mare, his green eyes glassy with delight, his tie still vile.

  “Ciao, Mare! I’m so glad you’re here.” Then he looked at her dress. “Oh. That’s interesting.”

  “Well, we all become the remains of the day,” Mare said.

  “Huh?” Jude said.

  “Emily,” Dreama said helpfully. “Corpse Bride. It’s in her song. Mare’s wearing her dress.”

  “Right, right,” Jude said. “Great marketing. But in New York, you’re going to have to give up anything that’s out of the normal.”

  “I’m not going to New York,” Mare said, and ignored Dreama’s fallen face. That was life. One crushing disappointment after another.

  “But it’s a tremendous opportunity,” Jude said, and then turned when Crash knocked on the plate-glass door.

  “We don’t open until ten-thirty,” Jude said through the glass, but Mare reached around him and unlocked the latch. “No personal conversations on Value Video!! time!” he told her, his voice rising, and she opened the door.

  “I got your message,” Crash said as he came in. “Nice dress. Corpse Bride, right?”

  Mare picked up the broken beanbag chair and jerked her head toward the storeroom.

  “Both of you, in there,” she said to them. “Take care of the store, Dreama. The boys and I are going to have a little talk.”

  When they were inside the storeroom, Mare dropped the beanbag chair on the floor, folded her arms, and said, “Okay, which one of you bitches is my mother?”

  Jude said, “Huh?” but Crash said, “Phoebe Cates. It’s from this bad movie she made me watch once.”

  “Lace,” Mare said.

  Jude still looked perplexed. “Who’s Phoebe Cates?”

  Crash frowned at him. “You never saw Fast Times at Ridgemont High? The pool scene? Every guy knows that scene.”

  “Exactly,” Mare said. “He also never saw Curse of the Were-Rabbit, Corpse Bride, Young Frankenstein, the third Indiana Jones, or Ghostbusters.”