Dorcas regarded her with sympathy. “Giving up your magic and the man you love can’t be easy for you.”
“This isn’t about me. It’s about Jasper and what he needs so he can get back to normal.”
“And that’s your final decision?”
“Yes. I . . . assume Ambrose will make sure Jasper doesn’t come back to the apartment?”
“Of course.” Dorcas pulled a purple folder out of her purse. “I’ll need you to sign this contract, which waives all your rights to practice magic of any kind, and stipulates that you will take every precaution to stay away from the recipient of your spell, Jasper Steven Danes.”
“Steven,” Anica said softly. “I didn’t even know his middle name.”
“We had to look it up.”
Anica stood, needing to move. “I’ll get a pen.”
“No, I have a pen.” Dorcas dug around in the bottom of her purse. “I know I put it in here.”
“Let me get mine.”
“No, you need to use this one. Remember, this was a really old spell. Aha. Here it is.” She pulled a black feather from her purse.
“A quill? Did you bring ink?”
“The quill produces its own ink, and it’s a onetimeuse instrument. After you sign and date the contract the quill turns to dust. I have a supplier in Sedona, and fortunately I just got a new shipment.”
Anica held out her hand for the pen. Sure enough, after she’d signed and dated the contract, the quill turned to dust that drifted down to the carpet. Then, right after that, the contract shriveled and became dust, as well.
That was fine with Anica. Who would want to have such a horrible document hanging around? “How soon does it take effect?”
“Immediately,” Dorcas said. “That pen-to-dust and contract-shriveling magic is the last that will ever work in your presence.”
Anica let out a breath. Magic had always been there as a helper, a special friend and a secret ability that made her feel confident and alive. Now it was gone, banished from her life. She wouldn’t even have the joy of watching others do it.
Painful as that prospect was, she could think about it, though, and even imagine how she’d deal with the loss. Jasper was another matter. She didn’t dare think about him, and she had no idea how she’d face losing him.
No, that was wrong. She knew exactly how she’d deal with losing Jasper forever. She’d concentrate on an image of him happy and healthy, enjoying his human form for the rest of his life. She’d picture the gratitude he’d feel and how precious his days would be for him now that he could live them fully as a man.
She turned to Dorcas. “How about that glass of wine?”
“By all means. I would like to raise a glass and toast you. Not everyone would have done what you have.”
“Not everyone’s lucky enough to love a man like Jasper Steven Danes.”
Walking back into the restaurant felt weird as hell, but Jasper thought it was fitting that the whole thing would end here. He suggested to Ambrose that they sit in the bar at a small two-person booth.
“You seem familiar with this place,” Ambrose said as he took off his coat and sat down.
“This is where I brought Anica on our date Monday night, when she ran into my ex-girlfriend, Sheila. After that, the date was completely FUBAR.” Thinking of that, Jasper took a quick inventory of the restaurant. He hadn’t really expected to see Sheila, but he was relieved to know that she wasn’t here tonight.
“FUBAR?” Ambrose frowned.
“Fucked Up Beyond All Recognition.”
“Oh. I like that. FUBAR. I’ve had a few of those situations myself.”
“Me, I’m ready for life to get a little less FUBAR.” Jasper signaled a waitress, who came, took their order and left quickly.
“I’m hoping you can help me get my life back on track,” Jasper continued. “And poor Anica. I know she really misses her magic, and I really miss . . .” He paused to think, and soon he began to chuckle.
“What’s so funny?”
“You know what, Ambrose? Other than wanting to be a guy twenty-four/seven, I don’t miss much about my former life. I’m wondering if I want to continue chasing market trends for the rest of my days. I’m thinking I might get into fund-raising. There’s a lot that needs fixing in the world, and maybe I can pry people away from their money so we can get some of those things fixed.”
“It’s a worthy goal.”
“So, in order to lift this spell, what’s my task? Reverse the direction of the Nile? Repair the hole in the ozone layer? Bring about world peace?”
Ambrose smiled. “A sense of humor is good in situations like this.” Ambrose reached into his small briefcase and pulled out an official-looking contract. “Why don’t you look this over while we wait for our drinks? There’s a place for your signature on the sixth page.”
Jasper didn’t get past the first paragraph. “I can’t sign this.”
“Why not?”
“You know perfectly well why not. It bans Anica from ever using magic again. It even says she’ll have a negative effect on the magic of others.”
Ambrose shrugged. “That doesn’t seem like such a horrible thing compared to what you’ll gain from this document. Sometimes the end justifies the means.”
The old cliché ran through Jasper’s brain as if he’d grabbed hold of a live electrical wire. That had been his justification for lying to a potential girlfriend. Would the man he’d been a week ago have taken this deal? He hoped to hell not, but he couldn’t say that for sure.
“Sorry, Ambrose. I’m not signing this. It would be like sucking the lifeblood out of that woman.” He tossed the paper back to Ambrose. “Show me something that allows Anica to get her magic back and I’ll sign that.”
The waitress brought their beers and a bowl of peanuts. Jasper handed her his credit card because he had no cash. He’d been hoping to remedy that today. Now he was wondering if he needed to stop by an ATM on the way back to the apartment, because at this rate, no telling what tomorrow would bring.
Ambrose waited until the waitress had left. “Here’s the situation. Either Anica gets her magic back or you get to be a man again. Your fate became intertwined with hers the minute she placed that spell on you.”
A vise tightened around Jasper’s chest. “That can’t be right. Good deeds were supposed to take care of everything, and once I became a man again, she’d get her magic back.”
“Dorcas and I thought so, too. But then we started digging deeper, found a more detailed explanation of the ramifications of this spell, and apparently the good deeds can only get you twelve hours. The other twelve require that she sacrifice her magic.”
Jasper stood and grabbed his coat. “Goddammit, is that what Dorcas is telling her? Because I know what she’ll do. She’ll give it up to save me. I can’t have it, Ambrose. I can’t let her do that.” He started to leave.
“Wait.” Ambrose grabbed his arm.
Jasper wondered if there was a penalty for brushing off a wizard. “I don’t have time to wait.”
“You could sign this instead.” Ambrose brought out a different contract.
Slowly, Jasper resumed his seat. “Give me the Cliffs-Notes version. I need to get back to that apartment and make sure she doesn’t sign away her magic.”
“This says that you agree to live your life as a man for twelve hours and a cat for the other twelve. If you agree to that, it signifies that you’ve accepted your new role, embraced it, even, and you bear her no ill will. She’ll get her magic back.”
“Good God.” Jasper buried his face in his hands. He didn’t really have to think about this. He knew what he was going to do. He just had to give himself a moment to adjust. Adjust. Was that even possible? Voices were screaming in his head, reminding him of all he was giving up.
Maybe if he took the first deal Ambrose had offered, he could make it up to her for losing her magic. He’d be fully functioning again. They could have a life together with all the good stu
ff—kids, house, pets.
And every damn day he’d know that he’d bought all that at her expense, robbed her of her birthright. She would never have pulled out her wand if he hadn’t been acting like a shit. He’d goaded her into putting the spell on him, and she shouldn’t have to pay for that. He would.
And oh, how he would pay. He’d struggle with the half-cat, half-man thing, but he could do it. That wasn’t the toughest part of this deal. What made him ache was knowing that he would give up Anica. If he couldn’t be a fully functioning partner, then he wouldn’t allow himself to be with her, simple as that. He would spend the rest of his life grieving that loss.
It was settled, then. He would sign the second contract, and Anica would have her magic back. He looked at Ambrose. “Got a pen?”
“Yes.” Ambrose pulled a black quill out of the briefcase. “Use this.”
Jasper took it. “But it’s a feather.”
“It’ll write.”
“Whatever.” Jasper scribbled his name with the pointed end of the feather, and ink flowed for some strange reason.
“Date it.”
He did, and at that moment the feather disintegrated in his hand, turning to a dusty pile on the table. Then the contract shriveled and went away, too. Jasper didn’t get it but didn’t really care that he didn’t get it. The waitress returned with his credit slip and card. He signed it, pocketed the card and stood. “Get the hell back to that apartment, Ambrose. Make sure Anica doesn’t sign anything giving up her magic.”
“I’ll hurry.” Ambrose stood, too.
Jasper hesitated. He longed to give Ambrose a message to take back to Anica, something to let her know how much he loved her. But all that could do was make things worse for both of them. The grief he’d been keeping at bay began clawing at him, threatening to tear him apart.
His throat tightened. “See you around, Ambrose.” He left the restaurant while he still had control of his emotions. Outside he scrubbed a hand over his face and it came away wet. Hell. He’d planned to hail a cab, but instead he started walking. His condo was about five miles away, and he was going to need every damn one of them.
Chapter 27
When the doorbell rang, Anica put down her wineglass and leaped up from the sofa.
Dorcas stood and put out a restraining arm. “You’d better let me get it, in case, for some reason . . .”
She didn’t have to finish the sentence. Anica was taking no chances that Jasper had insisted on coming back to the apartment. “I’ll go in the kitchen. Call me when the coast is clear.”
She stood with both hands braced on the counter, breathing hard as she listened to the sound of the door being opened. What was she supposed to do if Jasper came looking for her? She would work to stay away from him, but she couldn’t control his actions.
“You can come out,” Dorcas called. “Ambrose is alone.”
Oh, she’d come out all right. She’d come out and get some answers. She barreled back into the living room.
“What if he comes to the apartment? Okay, I could refuse to open the door to him, but what if he comes to Wicked Brew? Anyone’s allowed to walk in there. I might not notice until it was too late.”
Ambrose glanced at Dorcas. “So she signed it.”
“Yes.”
“So did Jasper.”
Anica was ready to scream. “Sign what? I feel as if I’m expected to play a game without seeing the rule book. What sort of contract did Jasper sign?”
Dorcas walked over and laid a hand on her arm. “We can’t tell you. But I can tell you that you don’t have to worry about coming into contact with Jasper.”
“Oh.” Anica pressed her fingers against her throbbing temples and paced the room. “Okay, I can figure it out. He signed something promising not to see me, right?” She stopped pacing and looked at them.
Dorcas and Ambrose silently returned her gaze.
“Yeah, I know. You can’t say.” She returned to her pacing. “But that makes sense. He probably knows that seeing me would turn him back into a cat. If that was in his contract, no way is he coming near me. Which is good. That’s exactly what I’d want him to do.” She massaged her temples.
Dorcas took a step toward her. “Can we get you anything? If you’d like to go out to dinner, we’ve found a cute little Italian—”
“That’s nice of you, but I’m not really in the mood. You have a car, though, right?”
“Yes,” Ambrose said. “We found a parking garage a couple of blocks from here.”
“On your way to dinner would you mind dropping me off at the Bubbling Cauldron?”
“We’d be happy to,” Dorcas said. “Family can be a big help at times like these.”
Anica nodded. “Family and a few wicked martinis.”
Six hours later Anica was chock-full of vodka martinis and onion rings. She’d spent her entire time sitting on a stool at the bar, and her fanny would probably be sore in the morning, but at the moment she was feeling no pain anywhere. Even her heart, the most battered part of her body, didn’t hurt anymore.
“Come on, sis.” Lily helped her into her coat. “We’ll share a taxi.”
“But you live in the other direction.” She peered at Lily, who was slightly out of focus. “Did you move?”
“No, I didn’t. But I’m going to make sure you get into your apartment before I go home.”
“It’ll cost you twice as much.”
“Don’t care.” Lily hustled them out the door and scanned the cabless street. “Wouldn’t you know it? Guess I’ll have to get us a cab the old-fashioned way.” She pulled her wand out of her backpack.
“Won’t work, Lil.”
“Oh, I don’t believe that crap. Just because you’ve lost your magic doesn’t mean you’re like some magical Typhoid Mary when it comes to the rest of us. That’s crazy.”
Ten minutes later, Lily sighed and tucked her wand back in her purse. “I tell you, Anica, that was one bad-ass spell you invoked. Let’s walk down to the corner. We’ll get a cab easier that way.”
Lily managed to get a cab by putting two fingers in her mouth and producing a whistle that nearly split Anica’s skull down the middle. She would have a doozy of a hangover in the morning and no magical way of curing it. However, in the morning Jasper would not turn into a cat. That was all that mattered.
Lily behaved like a mother hen as she hustled Anica into the cab. Then she insisted on making the cab wait, meter running, while she escorted Anica to her door. She helped Anica get the door unlocked, too, because Anica’s coordination wasn’t the greatest.
“Listen, I don’t have to work tomorrow night,” Lily said. “Call me. We’ll do something.”
“Thanks, Lil.” Anica hugged her. “You mix a mean martini.”
“Hey, tomorrow we could do margaritas and salsa!” She produced a shimmy to illustrate her suggestion.
“Sure, why not? I’ll call you.” With a wave and a lop-sided smile, she closed and locked her door. A cat meowed, and she glanced down as Orion rubbed against her leg in greeting. “Just you and me, kid.” She crouched down and braced one hand on the floor so she wouldn’t topple over. Way too many martinis.
She scratched behind Orion’s ears. Someday soon she’d look into getting a second cat so Orion could have another playmate. But she’d give it some time. And the cat would not be black.
Jasper spent the night stocking in supplies and making lists. He got cash from the ATM and put gas in his car. Theoretically, if he kept himself busy with details, he wouldn’t have to look at the big picture, which tended to make his vision blur. Tonight he was all about trees, not the forest.
At least on Sunday night he’d be able to wear different clothes. When he’d thought he had a future with Anica, he’d been fond of the clothes. He wasn’t so fond of them now.
At five in the morning he stripped them off and tossed everything but the shoes in the garbage. He couldn’t quite bring himself to throw away a pair of Cole Haan loafers that he’
d bought last week. If they turned out to be as full of memories as the clothes, then he might, but for now he’d keep them around.
Showering in his own bathroom felt good. He hoped he’d be able to make enough money to keep the condo, but if not he’d adjust. Whenever he got a panicked feeling about his future, he reminded himself that Anica was okay. She could look forward to the life she’d had before meeting him. He hadn’t ruined everything for her.
And he would love her for the rest of his life. But he didn’t want to think about that right now. He was concentrating on trees, not the forest. He took inventory of his soap and shampoo. With only twelve hours to work and shop, he’d have to become extremely well-organized.
He wouldn’t need to worry about shaving ever again, though. Every night at six he’d transform clean-shaven, and that would take him through until he transformed again at six in the morning. He knew there had to be some sort of bonus to this program, and apparently he’d found it.
At five fifty-five he sprawled naked on his bed and waited. Usually by now he could sense the change coming. Maybe he was just getting used to it, because he didn’t feel any different.
At five fifty-eight he turned on his side and stared at the digital clock radio on his nightstand. By now he should be feeling the dizziness that preceded the change. Instead he felt nothing besides a slight drowsiness from being up all night.
He stared at the clock as it switched to five fifty-nine. Something wasn’t right. Maybe his clock was off. Leaving the bed, he searched out his BlackBerry, which he’d left on his desk in the den. The BlackBerry read exactly six o’clock.
Putting it down, Jasper went to stand in front of the bathroom mirror. His bearded morning face gazed back at him. He wasn’t changing! Could it be? No more reverting to a cat? The rush of pure joy was followed instantly by gut-twisting anxiety. Oh, God. Had Anica’s contract gone into effect and somehow canceled his? Had she given up her magic for him?
Or did she give up even more? He had a sudden, awful image of Anica trading places with him. What if her contract wasn’t about losing her magic? What if she’d agreed to assume his twelve hours of being a cat?
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