Mistress of Magic

by Heather Graham

  It could be an eerie place.

  Reggie had never thought so before, but today, at noon, she stood in the shop all alone.

  A half-clad woman with widespread Nordic pigtails stared at her with a sunny smile from across the room. There was a Hungarian count beside her, a fellow with slicked-back dark hair and a Dracula cape. He wasn’t smiling.

  The artist had given him fantastic eyes. They seemed to follow Reggie.

  “Oh, you stop it!” she told the figure suddenly. She had been stuffing the top half of a Dierdre costume into its proper square cubicle when she felt ripples of unease scoot up her spine. And when she turned, certain that someone was in the room with her, she had discovered that it was none other than the diabolically handsome Hungarian.

  “You!” She wagged a finger at the figure. “Don’t get uppity with me. I’m pretty sure you’re one of my own sketches.” She moved closer to the figure, then smiled at her sense of unease.

  She had been the first one to sketch him. He bore a marked resemblance to Max. She turned away from the figure and started stuffing costumes into cubicles again. She glanced at her watch. She had to make certain she gave herself enough time to get to the show. She wished she could shake the feeling that she was being watched.

  Think about Wes, that should do it, she told herself. Or think about Wes and Max. Be mad at the two of them!

  Damn Max. Just what the hell had he been warning her about? Well, if he thought she was teasing Wes, wanting someone to practice her wiles upon, he was way off the mark.

  “He won’t be demanding anything he thinks I’ve offered because I’ve offered it all,” she murmured softly.

  I offered too much.…

  And where had it gotten her?

  Just where she wanted to be. He was angry with her now, she knew. Because she had been pretending that things were entirely aboveboard. No, they were both adults; things were aboveboard.

  I just refrained from making an announcement! she defended herself.

  What had he wanted from her? she wondered.

  No ghosts. He had said something about ghosts. That there was a difference between not wanting to be alone, and wanting to be with someone.

  But she had. And she had wanted to be with him.

  And she hadn’t given a thought to anyone other than him from the moment she had come to him. She hadn’t seen anyone else or thought of anyone else.

  No ghost of Caleb.

  Honesty. It was what he wanted.

  She groaned softly, thrust a big dinosaur head into its cubicle and moved to the oak desk. She sat down in the red-upholstered swivel chair behind it. She pressed the soda can she’d brought in with her against her temple, feeling it cool her. She popped the top and drank several swallows of the bubbly liquid, then swallowed a hiccup.

  She stared at the old Victorian love seat, with its two matching armchairs, that sat across from the desk. Once upon a time, employees had gathered here. They had sat around to chat when their shifts were over. It had always been a warm place.

  Now, the love seat was taken up by a half-clad, pretty, blond robotronic and the back half of a dinosaur costume. Reggie didn’t like the blond robotronic. She seemed to be looking at Reggie, too.

  Reggie groaned and laid her head on the desk. “Between my brother and his absurd problems and pesty friends, I am losing my sanity.”

  She stared at the blonde again.

  “I never had it, eh, is that what you’re saying?” She laid her head down again. “No, that’s not true. I did have it. Really, I did. Until last night.”

  She drummed her fingers absently on the desk. So Wes wanted honesty. What else?

  What did he want from her?

  Wes certainly hadn’t spent the last years in a fantasy world as she had. Maybe he had stayed in love with the woman he had lost, but he had made love with other women since then. He was an accomplished lover. He knew what he wanted, and he knew how to get it. And he knew how to give. How to touch. How to kiss …

  So he had had lovers. Women to ease the pain. To break the loneliness.

  And now she was one of them.

  She inhaled and exhaled sharply. He had seduced her. No, she had gone to him. She was a big girl. She had wanted him, and she’d had him.

  And for the moment, she still had.

  So just what would she do with him?

  She didn’t know. She suddenly felt numb. The coolness of the oak beneath her cheek felt wonderful. She shouldn’t be thinking about Wes now. He was angry with her, but she had been playing it as honestly as she could. She had seen him, only him, in bed last night.

  And when she closed her eyes, she saw him again. Saw the platinum tufts of coarse hair that splayed across his chest. Saw the bronze flesh beneath it. She could almost feel it beneath her fingers, so tense, so vital. Feel the ripple of muscle. Remember touching him. Running her fingers over his chest, down the leanness of his belly. Watching the way his hair darkened and thickened to nest the rod of his sex. See the pulse …

  His flesh, his eyes. His face. The curve of a smile. Fading. Laughter replaced by tension as passion grew, as he thrust into her …

  Her eyes flew open. She had always had way too vivid an imagination.

  She was again drawn to the robotronic on the love seat. The mannequin seemed to be watching her.

  “Thank God I have to go do that show!” she told herself aloud, pushing back in the chair to rise.

  She was off to play a sleazy dance hall girl. When she’d been having such sleazy thoughts. Well, it was fitting.

  “See you later,” she told the figure on the love seat.

  But as she locked the door, she didn’t feel at all sleazy about the way she had been with Wes.

  She felt good.

  She hadn’t felt so good since …

  Years. She hadn’t felt so good in years.

  And still …

  He would stay with her until this mess was solved. What then?

  Did it matter?

  It would.

  But did it matter now?

  No. He would be sleeping with her tonight. And for now, it was all she wanted. It was enough.

  Several hours later, she fitted her key into the lock again.

  She had enjoyed doing the show. Granted, it hadn’t been as good as it had been with Wes in the audience, and she had been halfway expecting him to appear there, waiting for her. But he didn’t appear, and of course the show wasn’t quite as good.

  But it was still good. She enjoyed working with Bob, Stevie and Alise. And when it had been over, the three had managed to get Reggie to promise that she would fill in with them until they were able to find a permanent replacement.

  They all knew that might take a little while.

  In return, they vowed their loyalty again. They knew Max was innocent, and they wouldn’t be leaving.

  As she opened the costume shop door, she felt suddenly tired. She walked in, slumped into the chair and wished she could go home.

  She had promised, though. She had told Wes she would be here.

  Maybe she didn’t have the energy to move, anyway.

  And besides, she couldn’t go home to peace and quiet. Diana would be there.

  With that thought in mind, Reggie groped for the phone and dialed her own number. She clenched her teeth as she heard the answering machine come on. She waited for the beep.

  “Diana, this is Reggie. If you’re there, please pick up. Please—”

  “Reggie! Are you all right?”

  Reggie frowned. “Of course, I’m all right. Why?”

  “I’m talking about last night. How horrible that someone was in here! What an awful invasion.”

  Yes, it was, Reggie reflected. “I’m all right, really.”

  “That’s what Max said. Thank goodness you weren’t alone.”

  “Right,” Reggie murmured.

  “And that he stayed with you. Mr. tall, blond and handsome, that is.”

  Reggie hesitated, st
aring at the receiver. Diana spoke quickly.

  “Oh, you know that I adore your brother! But if I didn’t … well, Mr. Blake just has something … special! Don’t you think?”

  “Mmm. Special,” she agreed grudgingly. Then she added quickly, “Thank you, Diana. I really appreciate you going out there today.”

  “Think nothing of it. I’m working on the sketches for the Christmas show. It didn’t matter one whit whether I worked on them here or there.”

  “Still, I appreciate it. Do I have an alarm system?”

  “You do. And it seems to be marvelously simple—you just have to press some numbers like a phone. And we’re all pretty good at phones, eh?”

  “Um, I guess,” Reggie agreed.

  “And it seems to be complete. There are tiny wires in the windows, and the doors are covered. I’ll be able to teach you to use it in a matter of minutes.”

  “That sounds great.”

  “I hope this sounds great, too,” Diana said. “Max promised to come out and take me home tonight. He said he’d get here around eight. I went ahead and ordered up some stuff to barbecue for dinner. I figured that everyone had to eat. I thought it might be nice-relaxing—to eat by the pool and maybe take a dip before or after. What do you think?”

  What did she think? Panic seized her. She was going to have to sit there with her brother and Diana and Wes in a social situation. Just like a double date.

  “If it’s not all right, just say so,” Diana told her. “I’ll understand.”

  “No, no!” Reggie said quickly. Diana had sat over there all day long for her benefit.

  Diana had also done a lot more. While everyone speculated that Max might be a murderer, Diana had valiantly stayed glued to his arm, telling the world that anyone who thought Max was a murderer had to be daft. She wasn’t afraid in the least to go home alone with him at any time.

  “A barbecue sounds wonderful, Diana. Especially if we can make Max do the cooking.”

  “I’ll do the cooking if he won’t, Reggie.”

  “That’s great.”

  “Tall, blond and handsome will be with you?”

  “Oh, yes,” Reggie murmured.

  “Good. Come soon.”

  Diana hung up. Reggie tiredly aimed the receiver in the direction of the phone. As she rested her head on the desk, she stared at the Victorian love seat in front of her and slowly started to frown.

  Something was different.

  She remembered the blond robotronic figure that had been there before. The hair had been short; the girl hadn’t been wearing a shirt. In fact, she’d only had one arm, if Reggie remembered correctly.

  The figure was different now. There was a whole bunch of blond hair, lying like a bad wig over the face.

  The figure was clad in an encompassing cloak.

  Actually, it wasn’t a figure at all.…

  It was real.

  It suddenly leaped to its feet, pointing her way with a black-gloved hand. “Reggie!” it exclaimed hoarsely, the voice deep and low, like that of a crypt keeper. “Your brother is a killer! And you’re going to die!”

  Reggie gasped, stunned. She jumped to her feet, terrified, ready to scream hysterically.

  Then sanity grabbed hold of her.

  There was a person in the cloak. A person trying to ruin her brother’s life.

  Her life.

  The park.

  “All right!” she snapped out, starting around the desk. But she was shaking still. “You just wait! You can talk to the police—”

  She broke off, fear snaking along her spine, her breath gone, as the lights went off.

  She was pitched into total blackness.

  A chill laughter sounded.

  “Reggie’s going to die!” the harsh voice called out sharply, like one child taunting another.

  “And you’re going to jail!” Reggie said, trying hard for a show of bravado. The lights! She had to reach the main switch. Don’t panic, turn!

  No! Don’t turn on a light! Wes had said not to turn on the light. Just get out, get out.

  But she heard the laughter again. Horrible. Shrill.

  Then she heard a whisking in the air. Instinctively, she ducked.

  The phone on her desk went clattering to the floor. Something had whacked it.

  She choked back a scream. She had to get out. She couldn’t see her tormentor.

  Her tormentor couldn’t possibly see her.

  “Reggie …”

  She heard the taunting, sexless whisper. Then she thought she saw a glimmer of light. The door.

  Something suddenly fell over her head. A sheet. No—a roll of dinosaur-colored fabric. She threw it off, throwing caution to the wind.

  The material fell around her again.

  And in the darkness, arms reached out for her. Fingers wound around her elbows.

  She screamed. She cast back her head and screamed at the top of her lungs.

  “Reggie!”

  She was fighting to come up from some awful darkness. It was no longer the taunting voice that came to her.

  The hood of material was thrown off. The lights were on.

  Wes was holding her.

  Wes. And Max was behind him.

  “Reggie, Reggie! What in God’s name—” Max began.

  Wes was staring at her, golden eyes searing questioningly into hers.

  And at that moment, she didn’t care that Max was there.

  And she didn’t care in the very least what the future might bring.

  She lay her head against Wes’s chest, her fingers falling lightly against him.

  “Oh, Wes!”

  He lifted her, cradling her against him. And he walked her out of the darkness of the costume shop and into the light beyond.

  Chapter 9

  The park, thankfully, was empty. Darkness was falling. Far away, down the main thoroughfare, Reggie could see that one of the sweepers, a tall man in cleaning crew whites, was sweeping. There were other cleanup people around, somewhere. And there were security guards, walking their rounds.

  But no one was near enough to see how upset Reggie had been.

  How frightened.

  It took her several minutes to begin to make sense.

  She was seated on one of the little wooden dinochairs at Dierdre’s Dinomite Burgers and Dogs. Wes had sat her there when he had carried her out, and for several long minutes he had remained on his knees before her, holding her hands, telling her she was all right.

  As she had calmed herself, she had drawn back her hands guiltily and looked around. She was alone, really truly alone out here, except for her brother and Wes.

  And now they were staring at her as she tried to explain what had happened. Max was next to her. Wes was standing, his arms crossed over his chest, his left foot resting on the rung of one of the chairs.

  The crew who sold burgers and dogs were all gone. A pleasant, spicy scent remained around the area, and Reggie was very glad of it. The scent was something that seemed to drag her back to normal. Once she got over being scared, she promised herself, she was going to be hungry.

  “The robotronic talked?” Max said.

  “Yes. It stood up and it talked,” Reggie said numbly. Wes had grown quiet. She felt a stiffness about him, a certain withdrawal.

  It was because she had jerked her hands away, she knew. She hadn’t meant to do it. She just wasn’t sure she had the nerve to face up to a relationship right now.

  “Reggie,” Max said, glancing from Wes to her. He was irritatingly patient. “Robotronics are supposed to talk,” he reminded her.

  She stared at him blankly. “What?”

  “Robotronics are created to talk, Reggie. They’re supposed to be very real—”

  “Max!” She clenched her fingers into fists and leaped to her feet. “It wasn’t a robotronic!”

  “Reggie, you just told me that there had been a blond robotronic on the love seat—”

  “You weren’t listening to me!” She stared from her
brother to Wes. He stared back, lifting his hands in a vague motion.

  “It is what you said,” Wes told her dryly.

  “Oh, you know what I mean! It was supposed to have been a robotronic. You weren’t paying any attention to me, either of you!” Reggie said angrily.

  “Oh, I was paying attention,” Wes said lightly.

  “She’s just been working too many hours,” Max murmured.

  “With no sleep,” Wes agreed.

  She wanted to knock their heads together. Instead she touched Max on the shoulder.

  “I’m here, remember?” she said accusingly. “I am not overtired, and I am not—”

  “He’s the one who said that you were overtired,” Max pointed out, a finger wagging at Wes. “And just exactly why is she so tired?” he asked suddenly.

  “You’ll have to ask Reggie about that,” Wes said flatly. He was staring at her. Hard.

  She swallowed. “Would you two stop! Whoever was in there is getting away.”

  There was a silence. Then Wes sighed softly, staring at her again. “Reggie, there was no one in there. You were all alone.”

  “But I wasn’t! I’m telling you—”

  “Yes,” Wes interrupted, standing, shoving his hands into his pockets. “There’s a blond robotronic figure on the love seat, just like you said. There’s no one else in there.”

  “How do you know? It was dark. Someone was attacking me. I fought back. I fought someone.”

  “Reggie, you were trying to thrash me,” Wes told her.

  She gritted her teeth, praying for patience. “Yes, I was with you!” she snapped. “So you certainly weren’t going through the costume shop, looking for anyone else!”

  “I looked,” Max said. “As soon as Wes brought you out here, I went in and looked.”

  “What?” Dumbfounded, she stared at her brother.

  “Reggie, I looked. Wes had you, and I did the looking. I got the lights on as fast as possible, and I searched around. There was no one in there.”

  “Someone was!” she insisted furiously.

  “There’s only the one main door,” Max said. “There in the hallway.”

  “Right—and then there are the two dressing rooms!” she reminded him.

  “No one came into the hallway, Reggie. We would see anyone who did,” Wes told her.