Fates 06 - Totally Spellbound

by Kristine Grayson

  Megan’s stomach had now tied itself into knots. “How long will we be gone?”

  Rob shrugged. “I have no idea, but I’ll make sure it’s not as long as it seems.”

  Sixteen

  Rob mentally shook himself. He hadn’t meant to tell this woman that he’d make the time with him seem longer than it was, but that was what he said. What he’d meant was that he would use a bit of magic and move the two of them backward in time if he had to.

  But her knowledge of magic was so limited, he wasn’t sure she’d understand the explanation even now.

  Everyone in the reception area looked like they were emotionally drained. Even the reception area itself seemed out of sorts. The pictures on the wall were crooked, thanks to the Fates’ incredible effort to get themselves out of the office. The door looked battered, and the furniture seemed out of place, even though Rob didn’t think anyone had touched it.

  Megan seemed the worst for wear. Her skin was paler than it had been before, and her eyelashes were wet. They stuck together, accenting her eyes even more than they had. Her lips were very red, because she’d been biting them nervously, and a tear streak showed him that the lovely red in her cheeks had no artificial component at all.

  She’d achieved that much beauty without makeup.

  The boy had clearly caused her physical pain with his “broadcast.” When they got back, Rob would teach him how to tone that down. Otherwise, if he wasn’t careful, he might do some actual damage someday.

  The boy looked at him sharply. He’d clearly overheard that last thought.

  “We’ll work on it,” Rob said.

  The boy squared his shoulders. Rob was beginning to like him. The kid had courage. Rob hadn’t met too many moderns who did.

  The door banged again, and this time the hinges squeaked. The bolts had started to work their way out of their sockets.

  “You’d better go if you’re gonna go,” John said. “I think we’re going to release some Fates whether we want to or not.”

  Rob took Megan’s hand. She looked terrified.

  “Just hang on tight,” he said. “We’re only gonna ask a few questions, maybe figure out a few things. Then we’ll come back. All right?”

  She took a deep breath and then nodded.

  She had courage too, considering everything she’d been through in the past few hours. Some people, when they discovered the world had magic, went to bed for weeks and wouldn’t get up.

  He needed to take care of this Fate problem quickly, for her sake as well as his own.

  He made a small circle with his left hand and spelled them to the first person he could think of who would give him a straight answer—Zoe Sinclair.

  It was a slower spatial shift than he usually performed, almost as if the magic stream couldn’t find Zoe for a moment.

  Then he and Megan materialized in a walk-in closet as large as his thatched hut had been. Women’s clothes hung from every available post and bar, and Zoe stood in the middle of them, wearing only a black bra, see-through panties, and a large diamond ring on her left hand.

  “What the hell?” Zoe snapped. “I thought we had a shield over this place.”

  He’d learned how to go through magical shields centuries ago, but that explained why the spatial shift had been so slow.

  Zoe shoved his chest. “Get out.”

  Then she saw Megan hiding halfway behind him. Megan’s face was so red, it looked like her head was about to explode.

  “What in the world is going on?” Zoe asked.

  The door to the closet opened, and a tall, blond man stepped inside. He was wearing jeans slung low over his hips and nothing more.

  Megan covered her eyes. “Travers, jeez.”

  Travers. Her brother. The one that Zoe was going to marry. He clearly had magical power—Rob could feel it radiating off him—but of an unconventional kind.

  “What are you doing here?” Travers snapped. Then he frowned at Rob. “And who are you?”

  “You have clothes on, Travs?” Megan asked.

  “Yes,” Travers said. “My bare chest isn’t that disgusting, sis.”

  He tossed a robe at Zoe, who slipped it on. The robe was as see-through as the panties.

  Megan peeked through her fingers. Rob had the sense she wasn’t hiding from her brother’s lack of clothing so much as she was trying to disappear from the entire situation.

  “You didn’t tell me we were coming here,” she whispered to Rob.

  “I told you we were going to find answers,” he said.

  “But I could have told you not to come here,” Megan whispered.

  “Because she was the one who said, ‘Travers, you and Zoe take your time, wink-wink.’” There was no warmth in Travers’ tone. “It was your idea to celebrate the marriage license, sis, and you have no right—”

  “I don’t think Megan’s involved.” Zoe had her hands on her hips. She was an attractive woman, but a little too slim. And her clothes were a little too see-through. Rob wasn’t sure where to look.

  He settled for Megan. Now, she was a beautiful woman with appropriate curves. Zoe was too bony, and always had been.

  “Right, Rob?” Zoe asked.

  He didn’t remember the question. He glanced at Travers, who looked nothing like his pretty sister, and tried to ignore the fury on the man’s face.

  “You mind telling me who you are and what you’re doing here?” Travers asked. “It would be really nice to know sometime before the next millennium.”

  “Um, sorry,” Rob said. He truly hadn’t expected this. He was almost as embarrassed as Megan. Maybe he was more embarrassed.

  “He’s Robin Hood,” Zoe said, “and he’s here about the Fates, aren’t you, Rob?”

  “Yes,” he said, wondering how she knew.

  “The question is, how did your sister come to accompany him?” Zoe said.

  “Kyle,” Travers said. “Kyle was behind it. Wasn’t he, Meg?”

  “Well, no,” Megan said. “I mean, maybe. You see, the Fates needed a ride—”

  “And they couldn’t take a cab?” Travers asked.

  “Kyle said they couldn’t. They’d get lost.”

  “You know they can’t, Travers,” Zoe said. “It’s not safe for them out in the real world.”

  “Because someone might steal their magic, I know,” Travers said, but he didn’t sound very sympathetic.

  “No,” Zoe said. “They wouldn’t know the rules of taxicabs.”

  The rules of taxicabs. Rob looked at her. There were rules for taxicabs, weren’t there? And he’d learned them over the years as the taxicabs themselves had evolved.

  But if the story were true—or at least if his understanding of the Fates’ last few months were true—then they wouldn’t know all sorts of things, from taxicabs to slot machines to laptop computers.

  Those three women were helpless in a variety of ways.

  Part of him felt sympathy, and part of him wanted to rub his hands together with glee.

  Travers sighed. “So you’re Robin Hood.”

  Rob nodded.

  “And you have my sister because…?”

  “Because she offered to help,” he said, even though that wasn’t entirely true.

  “Leaving my son with the most incompetent women in the world?” Travers asked a question, but it didn’t sound like a question. Something in his phrasing made it sound like a threat.

  “And my friend John,” Rob said. “He can handle all of them.”

  “John.” Travers didn’t sound satisfied.

  “Little John,” Zoe said. “You know.”

  “No,” Megan said from behind Rob. “He doesn’t know. He hates myths and legends. He prefers books on the history of math.”

  Travers shot her a glare. “Given how myths and legends are working out for me these days, do you blame me?”

  Zoe raised herself to her full height. “It seems to me myths and legends are treating you quite well, Mr. Kinneally.”

  H
e grinned at her. “If these people would leave your closet.”

  “You’re a myth and a legend?” Megan asked Zoe.

  “Only in my own mind,” Zoe said. “But I spend a lot of time with the real thing. Although we haven’t seen much of you lately, Rob. What gives?”

  He didn’t want to have cocktail party talk in the middle of Zoe’s closet. Especially with Zoe in see-through clothing and her half-naked husband-to-be beside her.

  “I, ah, just came…” Rob stopped himself. That was bad. “I mean, I just got here because I—”

  “He wants to know what’s going on with these Fate women,” Megan said. “He really doesn’t want to help them, and I don’t blame him.”

  “I don’t blame him either,” Travers said, “but not doing something the Fates want is very hard.”

  “Even when they don’t have magic,” Zoe added. “You’d think it was easier, but you’d be wrong.”

  Rob sighed. “They say true love is at stake.”

  “I think they’re right,” Zoe said. “The Faerie Kings have stolen their wheel. The Fates got along without it just fine for millennia, but then they gave up their magic powers because Zeus told them it was a job requirement—”

  “For what?”

  “They had to reapply to be Fates. They had term limits.” Zoe shrugged. “Don’t ask me why they believed this garbage, but they did. And now everything’s at stake.”

  “So why aren’t you still helping them?” Rob asked.

  “They said we’re done.” Travers reached across a row of cocktail dresses and took Zoe’s hand. “I suppose we could have argued more.”

  “But apparently, it’s been a tag-team rescue from the beginning,” Zoe said. “You know the Fates. Their main job in life is to ensure that people find their soulmates.”

  Rob felt that flare of anger again. “Yeah, right. That always works.”

  Megan put a calming hand on his arm.

  Zoe frowned at him. Like most mages, she only knew bits and pieces of his history. “You don’t like them.”

  “I loathe them,” he said.

  “Oh, great,” Travers muttered. “So much for the wedding.”

  Zoe squeezed Travers’ hand. “We’ll be fine. Don’t worry.”

  “That’s like saying don’t breathe.”

  “They want me to steal that wheel,” Rob said.

  “They need someone experienced at theft,” Zoe said. “I’m not it. Travers certainly isn’t. They’re the ones who suggested you.”

  “I’m not a burglar,” Rob said.

  “You stole from the rich and gave to the poor,” Travers said, then stuck his tongue out at his sister. “See? I know some legends.”

  “You could’ve called me the original highwayman or something,” Rob said. “I certainly wasn’t a high-level thief like you see in the movies.”

  “Are there high-level thieves like you see in the movies?” Megan asked softly.

  “Not magical ones,” Zoe said. “We don’t need all that gadgetry.”

  “Except when you’re stealing a spinning wheel,” Megan said.

  Rob shook his head. “The wheel’s in Faerie, right?”

  “Right,” Zoe said.

  “So high-level gadgetry wouldn’t work anyway.” He sighed. “They said you know exactly where it is.”

  “Oh, yeah,” Zoe said. “I can show you a map.”

  “Later,” Rob said. “If I decide to take the case.”

  “Which you’re not going to do.” Zoe shook her head. “Rob, you could be our last hope.”

  “Who’s last hope? You two seem to be doing pretty well here.” The words sounded almost bitter. He hadn’t meant to be bitter, had he?

  But it was ironic. The Fates wanted him to save true love, when they couldn’t save his true love.

  Wouldn’t save his true love.

  “Tell you what,” Zoe said, her black eyes narrowing. “You do me a favor. Spell yourself to the Fates. Say, literally, ‘to the Fates’ when you do it. Then come back here, and we’ll talk.”

  “Zo!” Travers protested.

  She got a cheeky grin and looked at him. “Come back after—what?—four hours?”

  “Five,” Travers said. “In fact, how about we see you tomorrow? Or maybe in a few weeks.”

  “The Fates don’t have a few weeks,” Zoe said.

  “Tomorrow,” Travers said.

  “I have Kyle for the whole night?” Megan asked.

  “You don’t have him right now,” Travers said.

  They were bickering. Rob had never seen adult siblings bicker, except on television.

  “I know where he is,” Megan said.

  “I know where he is too,” Travers said. “That doesn’t mean I’m comfortable with it.”

  “John’s competent,” Rob said so that Megan wouldn’t get into any more trouble.

  “No one’s competent around the Fates,” Travers muttered.

  “Just do what I ask,” Zoe said, “then take Megan to the hotel and wait for us. We’ll come to you.”

  Rob sighed. He hadn’t meant for any of this to happen. He glanced at Megan. The flush that had overwhelmed her face was gone. She looked up at him and shrugged.

  “All right, Zoe,” he said. “I expect to see you later tonight. But don’t have any expectations of me.”

  She grinned. “Don’t worry,” she said. “I know exactly what you’ll do.”

  He was afraid of that. He took Megan’s hand. It was cold. Then he waved an arm and said, “To the Fates.”

  And the closet disappeared.

  Sixteen

  Rob mentally shook himself. He hadn’t meant to tell this woman that he’d make the time with him seem longer than it was, but that was what he said. What he’d meant was that he would use a bit of magic and move the two of them backward in time if he had to.

  But her knowledge of magic was so limited, he wasn’t sure she’d understand the explanation even now.

  Everyone in the reception area looked like they were emotionally drained. Even the reception area itself seemed out of sorts. The pictures on the wall were crooked, thanks to the Fates’ incredible effort to get themselves out of the office. The door looked battered, and the furniture seemed out of place, even though Rob didn’t think anyone had touched it.

  Megan seemed the worst for wear. Her skin was paler than it had been before, and her eyelashes were wet. They stuck together, accenting her eyes even more than they had. Her lips were very red, because she’d been biting them nervously, and a tear streak showed him that the lovely red in her cheeks had no artificial component at all.

  She’d achieved that much beauty without makeup.

  The boy had clearly caused her physical pain with his “broadcast.” When they got back, Rob would teach him how to tone that down. Otherwise, if he wasn’t careful, he might do some actual damage someday.

  The boy looked at him sharply. He’d clearly overheard that last thought.

  “We’ll work on it,” Rob said.

  The boy squared his shoulders. Rob was beginning to like him. The kid had courage. Rob hadn’t met too many moderns who did.

  The door banged again, and this time the hinges squeaked. The bolts had started to work their way out of their sockets.

  “You’d better go if you’re gonna go,” John said. “I think we’re going to release some Fates whether we want to or not.”

  Rob took Megan’s hand. She looked terrified.

  “Just hang on tight,” he said. “We’re only gonna ask a few questions, maybe figure out a few things. Then we’ll come back. All right?”

  She took a deep breath and then nodded.

  She had courage too, considering everything she’d been through in the past few hours. Some people, when they discovered the world had magic, went to bed for weeks and wouldn’t get up.

  He needed to take care of this Fate problem quickly, for her sake as well as his own.

  He made a small circle with his left hand and spelled th
em to the first person he could think of who would give him a straight answer—Zoe Sinclair.

  It was a slower spatial shift than he usually performed, almost as if the magic stream couldn’t find Zoe for a moment.

  Then he and Megan materialized in a walk-in closet as large as his thatched hut had been. Women’s clothes hung from every available post and bar, and Zoe stood in the middle of them, wearing only a black bra, see-through panties, and a large diamond ring on her left hand.

  “What the hell?” Zoe snapped. “I thought we had a shield over this place.”

  He’d learned how to go through magical shields centuries ago, but that explained why the spatial shift had been so slow.

  Zoe shoved his chest. “Get out.”

  Then she saw Megan hiding halfway behind him. Megan’s face was so red, it looked like her head was about to explode.

  “What in the world is going on?” Zoe asked.

  The door to the closet opened, and a tall, blond man stepped inside. He was wearing jeans slung low over his hips and nothing more.

  Megan covered her eyes. “Travers, jeez.”

  Travers. Her brother. The one that Zoe was going to marry. He clearly had magical power—Rob could feel it radiating off him—but of an unconventional kind.

  “What are you doing here?” Travers snapped. Then he frowned at Rob. “And who are you?”

  “You have clothes on, Travs?” Megan asked.

  “Yes,” Travers said. “My bare chest isn’t that disgusting, sis.”

  He tossed a robe at Zoe, who slipped it on. The robe was as see-through as the panties.

  Megan peeked through her fingers. Rob had the sense she wasn’t hiding from her brother’s lack of clothing so much as she was trying to disappear from the entire situation.

  “You didn’t tell me we were coming here,” she whispered to Rob.

  “I told you we were going to find answers,” he said.

  “But I could have told you not to come here,” Megan whispered.

  “Because she was the one who said, ‘Travers, you and Zoe take your time, wink-wink.’” There was no warmth in Travers’ tone. “It was your idea to celebrate the marriage license, sis, and you have no right—”