Damsel Under Stress

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Damsel Under Stress Page 26

by Shanna Swendson


  She took the document from me, tossing it casually into a nearby in-box. “I’m sure he’ll look at it when he has time.”

  That was the last straw. If I didn’t still have the remnants of a killer headache, I’d have been up for an all-out hair-pulling and face-clawing catfight. Before I realized what I was doing, I’d snatched the plan back out of the in-box. “Look, I don’t know what delusions of grandeur you have going on, but you’re just filling in for my clerical tasks until I finish catching the bad guys yet again. Until you’ve been a big part of stopping the latest evil scheme a couple of times, you don’t stand a chance of taking my job, so you can get over yourself.”

  She was struck speechless, which was rather satisfying. It would have been even more satisfying if her elbow had bumped the tall Starbucks cup next to her computer and sent her morning latte into her laptop’s keyboard, but I couldn’t ask for everything. While she was still trying to come up with a snappy comeback, I said, “Now, I’ll give this to Trix to give to Mr. Mervyn.” Then while I stood there watching, the coffee cup tipped over, seemingly of its own accord. It took her a second to realize what was happening, and then she shrieked as she grabbed the cup and then tried to mop up the coffee.

  In spite of her frantic reaction, the results were less than spectacular. A minor explosion, or at least some sparks and noise, would have been more fun. Just then, the laptop keyboard blew up, shooting keys and sparks everywhere. Ah, that was more like it, I thought. “It looks like you’re too busy to deal with this at the moment, anyway,” I shot over my shoulder as I left her to damage control.

  “That must have gone well,” Trix remarked as I returned to her desk. “Usually you look frustrated instead of satisfied when you get away from Kim.”

  “Have you ever had something you wish for really happen? I mean, where you think it would be great if something would happen, and then it does?”

  “Of course I have. I can do magic.”

  “No, not with you making it happen. I mean like when someone passes you like you’re sitting still on the freeway, and you think it would be terrific if there was a state trooper with a radar gun around the next bend, and then when you get around the next bend you see a state trooper with that guy pulled over. It gives you faith that there is some justice in the universe.”

  “I take it Kim just got pulled over?”

  “In a way. She had a cup of coffee next to her computer, and her elbow was awfully close to it while she did her superior act with me. I couldn’t help but think that it would be funny if while she was playing power games with me, her elbow hit that cup and knocked it over onto her keyboard. And then the cup fell over, just like that. She’s still in there trying to salvage the computer, but it may be a lost cause, considering it blew up.”

  She sighed wistfully. “Oh, I wish I’d been there to see that. Too bad you couldn’t get it on video, but I have a happy picture in my mind. That may be enough to get me through the rest of the day.”

  “While you’re daydreaming, can you give this to the boss next time he emerges from his cave?” I handed her the plan.

  “Sure thing. I owe you for giving me my daily dose of motivation.”

  On my way back down to R&D, I passed a man who gave me an appreciative leer. “Oh, drop dead,” I muttered under my breath as I kept walking. A moment later, I heard a horrible choking sound behind me. I spun around to see that man doubled over, coughing and sputtering while his face turned redder and redder. A bag of cheddar popcorn lay spilled on the ground in front of him. I might not have liked the way he’d looked at me, but I couldn’t leave him to die. I ran over, stood behind him, and whacked him on the back. He was still choking, so I wrapped my arms around him and did the Heimlich maneuver. Soon, he was breathing normally.

  I let myself breathe more normally, as well, once the disaster was averted. Then I looked up and saw that a crowd had gathered. While the women rushed to check on the choker, the men all studied me intently. I overheard one whisper to another, “Well, she did act like she wanted to wrap herself around him.”

  I ignored it and turned away to head back to Owen’s lab, then almost choked, myself, when I heard another one mutter, “You know, she’s not nearly as cute out of costume. I guess I’d still do her if she threw herself at me, but I’m not gonna compete for her. Palmer can have her, but can you picture him keeping her after all that?”

  Another one snorted, “Yeah, our resident boy scout isn’t going to be into that stuff.”

  It took all my strength to act like I hadn’t heard anything as I walked away. This was yet another one of those times when it would have been nice if the universe would have set things right for me, but the fact that the universe had allowed itself a rare moment of balance by getting back at Kim did not mean I suddenly was going to get everything I wished for. Still, I wouldn’t have objected if the ceiling caved in on them. I then heard a thud and some screams, and I turned to see a hole in the ceiling in that part of the hallway, with ceiling tiles lying broken on the ground. Two men seemed dazed and had bits of tile in their hair. This was starting to get freaky. Aside from karma kicking into gear, I couldn’t help but wonder about the things those men had said about me. Maybe Gemma and Marcia hadn’t been playing games with me. And that meant that maybe Owen hadn’t been neglecting me but rather had been hurt deeply. I needed to figure out what was going on, and there was one person I was sure I could trust to tell me the truth without judging me.

  I headed straight for Rod’s office. It was ironic that a guy who habitually wore a face that wasn’t his own was the person I felt I could trust, but enough had happened between Rod and me that I was sure he’d be honest with me, and although he was Owen’s best friend, I felt like he could be a neutral party in this.

  Isabel was out when I got there, but Rod was at his desk. “Can I talk to you?” I asked.

  “Sure,” he said, gesturing me to a chair. “How are you feeling?”

  “I have a splitting headache, but other than that I’m okay. I just wanted to ask you, what did I do at your party? For real. Don’t exaggerate, and don’t try to spare me. I need the truth.”

  “Are you sure about that?”

  The unease on his face made me think twice, but I said, “You don’t have to give me gory details. A big-picture overview will do.”

  “Soon after midnight, it was like you became another person. You were very, um, flirtatious. You were loud, and you said some mean things.”

  I groaned and sank back into the chair. “So, it’s true. Gemma and Marcia told me, but I thought they were putting me on, since I never act like that. I kept waiting for them to say ‘gotcha.’ But they didn’t.”

  “Your immunity was still down during the party, wasn’t it?” I nodded. “It’s possible you were under a spell. Someone other than your roommates may have been playing a prank on you.”

  “You think that’s it?”

  “I know it is. You’re not mean. You’d never act that way if you were in control of yourself.” He gave me a warm smile and added, “Don’t worry, Owen knows that, too. He’ll brood and sulk for a while, but he’ll get over it. In fact, I bet he’s researching possibilities right now.”

  When he smiled that way, he really looked nice—even nicer now that he was doing something with his hair and was taking care of his skin. I realized then that his real face and his illusion weren’t all that different. His illusion just looked like someone had Photoshopped his real face to remove his worst flaws and make everything look just a little bit better.

  With a deep sigh, I stood up. “I have a killer headache, and I’m feeling utterly humiliated, so I’m going to go home early. Would you mind telling anyone who needs to know? About the headache, I mean. Not about the humiliation, though I suppose that goes without saying. I want to make sure this has all worn off before I face the office again.”

  “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it.”

  I gave him a quick hug before I left. “You’re a real
pal, you know? You might even be good enough for Marcia.”

  “I’m glad you approve, because I was going to ask her out anyway,” he said with a pat on my back.

  Owen was in his office when I went back to the lab for my purse and coat, so I didn’t try talking to him. That could wait until I felt a bit better. I left the building and trudged across the park by City Hall to get to the subway station, my head feeling heavier with each step. When a train arrived, I boarded and managed to get a seat. The woman sitting across from me wore what had to have been the ugliest shoes ever. Although she was well dressed, her shoes were repulsive—and probably the expensive kind of repulsive. In other words, they looked like someone had pulled them out of the trash and patched them up, but they were designed to look that way. There were even silvery bands across them that were probably inspired by duct tape. Staring at the shoes, I wondered what she’d think if she had the real thing instead of the designer version. Real duct tape holding her shoes together wouldn’t be nearly as nice, especially if she’d spent hundreds of dollars to buy faux-trashed shoes.

  I glanced away for a moment, then when I looked back at her, I saw that her shoes looked even worse. The duct tape wrapping around them curled up around the edges, and the sole was coming off in places. I blinked to make sure I saw what I thought I saw. No, it was still the same way, and I was sure those shoes had been in better shape before I started thinking about them.

  I could have written off a lot of stuff that had happened that day to chance. There were logical explanations for the train coming when I wanted it to, for Kim’s computer, the choking guy, the ceiling falling. But shoes didn’t change right before your eyes just because you thought they should. That is, it didn’t happen with me. I knew people who could do things like that, but I also knew I wasn’t one of them. At least, I shouldn’t have been.

  If I wasn’t mistaken, I had somehow developed magical powers.

  Nineteen

  I forced myself to take a couple of deep breaths and calm down before I had a panic attack on the subway. I knew there were a lot of magical people in the city. It was entirely possible that one of them was on the train and shared my taste in footwear. Just in case, though, I focused on the shoes, trying to remember what they’d looked like before. I was fairly certain I felt the tingle of power in use, but much stronger than anything I’d ever felt from others doing magic near me. I blinked, and the shoes were right back the way they’d been before. Their owner didn’t seem to have noticed. She crossed her legs and kept her eyes on her book.

  That sealed it for me. Even if I wasn’t really doing magic, this was suspicious enough to have checked out. I’d learned the hard way not too long ago that telling Owen when something odd and potentially dangerous was going on could save me a lot of trouble. I got off the subway at the next stop and walked back down Broadway toward the office. I barely noticed where I was or the fact that it was cold and windy as I hurried down the sidewalk. The pedestrian lights all turned to “walk” just as I reached them, but I couldn’t be sure that was because of magic. If you walked at the right pace and no one got in your way, you could hit the lights in synchronization like that. I was tempted to try something else to test my newfound powers, but I knew that doing magic where people might see it was forbidden, and I didn’t know the first thing about veiling the effects of magic from public view.

  I had a lot to learn if this was for real. I wondered what had happened. Was this a weird side effect of Owen’s potion? Maybe it had backfired, not only making me susceptible to magic, but also able to do magic. Or it could have had something to do with whatever happened at the party. As much as I liked the idea of being able to get whatever I wanted with a wave of my hand, it was also a little frightening.

  When I got to the MSI office building, I balked at the front door. It was like earlier in the morning when I’d felt compelled to go to the Spellworks store. My subconscious must have wanted to play around more with magic, but I overruled it and forced myself to open the door. I ran up the stairs and was breathing heavily by the time I got to Owen’s lab. He and Jake were in there working. “We need to talk,” I blurted as I burst through the doorway.

  He looked up from the document he was reviewing with Jake, blinked, frowned, and then looked like he was having a root canal. “Can we have this discussion—”

  “Now,” I interrupted. “Don’t worry, it’s not a relationship talk, but it is pretty damn crucial. Your office, ASAP.”

  While he was still looking at me like I’d lost my mind—and maybe I had—I headed straight for his office. Only when I reached the doorway did I remember his wards. I could usually get into his private office because I was immune to magic, but what about now that I could do magic?

  I was able to get through the door, but I thought my head would explode as I crossed the threshold. I couldn’t help but scream in pain, and that brought Owen running. He caught me as I swayed, still holding my head in agony, and helped me into the nearest chair. “Katie, what is it?” Now he sounded gentle and concerned but still a little distant.

  “Something very, very weird is happening,” I said, choking back a sob. Before I could change my mind, I blurted, “I think I can do magic now.”

  That got his attention. “What? How long has this been going on?”

  “Today. I don’t know, maybe I’m imagining things. Maybe I’m going crazy, but it’s too much for coincidence. This morning, the slightest thought that it would be funny if Kim’s coffee turned over and spilled on her computer crossed my mind—and then it happened a few seconds later. I chalked that up to karma because she totally deserved it. Then some really strange stuff happened in the hallway on my way back here. I decided to go home because I had a headache that was getting worse, and on the train, there was this lady with really ugly shoes. I thought about changing them, and they changed, then changed back again when I wanted them back the way they were. So I got off the train at the next stop to come back here and see what was going on.”

  He studied me like he was looking at a laboratory specimen. “While there are certainly other possible explanations for everything you’ve described, the number of events in that short a time is highly unlikely. You’ve had a headache, you say?”

  I nodded, then regretted it as that intensified the ache. “Yes, ever since I woke up on New Year’s Day. At first I thought it was a hangover, but it wasn’t the typical hangover headache. I felt like my brain was too big for my skull. It’s not as bad now, but it’s a constant ache. And just now, when I walked through your doorway, that was the worst.”

  “Hmm. Okay, I want you to try doing some magic.”

  “Like what?”

  “Think about something you want to make happen. Something simple and obvious that isn’t likely to happen on its own by coincidence.”

  I looked around his cluttered office. There was very little in there that didn’t look like it was bound to topple over on its own at any moment. I finally pointed to the magnifying glass that lay on top of a pile of parchment on his desk. “I’m going to make that flip over.”

  He nodded. “Okay, go for it.”

  I concentrated, imagining the magnifying glass turning onto its side, and then falling over onto its other side. Slowly at first, and then more surely, it rose, turned over, and then landed again on the desk.

  “Son of a bitch,” Owen said as he stared at the magnifying glass. It was the closest I’d ever heard him come to swearing in a language I recognized. Gloria probably didn’t approve of profanity.

  “So it’s for real,” I said, just to confirm it.

  “It’s real, all right. I felt the power, myself.”

  “So, is this good or bad?”

  “I don’t know. It depends on how and why it happened. The headache has me worried, though. That part’s not good, if it’s related.”

  “How do we find out how and why it happened?”

  “I don’t know that, either.” He shook his head, his forehead knit in a
deep frown. “I’ve never heard of anyone spontaneously developing magical powers, especially not a magical immune. That should be absolutely impossible. If it is possible, then it changes everything we think we know about magical potential.”

  “Well, obviously it’s possible because, well, hello!”

  “Again, that comes back to how and why.” He knelt next to me, closed his eyes, and held his hands out toward me. Then he frowned even deeper and sat back on his heels. “That’s really odd.”

  “A lot is really odd. Care to narrow it down?”

  “You don’t feel like, well, you.”

  “That would actually explain a lot about the past day or so, as well as what happened at the party, but wouldn’t I notice it if I’m not me?”

  “As I told you earlier, every magical person has a sort of signature. You can learn to recognize magical people by the magic they emit once you get to know them and know their magic, even when they’re not actually using magic.”

  “Like the magical equivalent of a signature perfume.”

  “Exactly. But because you’re magically immune and have absolutely no magic in you, you’re magically blank. If I lost all my other senses, I’d still be able to find and recognize a familiar magical person. You would be mostly invisible to me.”

  “Mostly?”

  He turned red. “There are other things about you I’ve learned to recognize that aren’t in the realm of the usual physical senses. Anyway, you’ve got a magical signature right now, and it’s not the same as the slight hints of magic you get when we tinker with your immunity. I need you to do something else magical.”

  I looked at the water glass on his desk and decided to fill it. As I concentrated on it, I felt the stirrings of power within me, and then the glass filled. I turned to look at Owen, who had an absolutely horrified expression on his face. “Oh, God, you’re Ari,” he said, backing away from me.

 

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