José grinned in relief. “Mr. Tremaine. What a surprise.”
“Yeah. I’ll bet,” Tris muttered. His father couldn’t have been more than a few blocks away. Waiting for the call? Why?
“I really do need to have a word with you, son.” Brian Tremaine was, as usual, immaculate. His sport coat over his polo shirt was cut perfectly. His khakis were pressed, his leather boat shoes with the rubber soles showed the right casual spirit.
“Do I have a choice?”
“You have lots of choices right about now.”
“Sounds like a lecture coming on.” Tris girded his loins. Why couldn’t he just walk away? Why did he have to let it get to the point where he couldn’t bear the conversation any longer before he cut it off? Maybe because he wanted his father’s approval way more than he could admit to himself. Like that was coming along anytime soon.
“Au contraire, I wanted to tell you what a marvelous job you’ve done building your business.”
Tris blinked. “José tells me you employ fifteen men here,” his father continued, looking around. “You pay well and give full benefits. Not to mention the apprentice program.”
“Gee, you didn’t tell him about the Little League team?” Tris growled to José.
José looked abashed. “He is your padre, amigo.... He should know how much you mean to the community.” He shrugged.
Tris ought to cut him some slack. Who could resist Brian Tremaine? But he couldn’t let that last statement stand. “Don’t make me out as some kind of hero.”
“I had no idea the operation was so large.” Tris’s father ignored the byplay, as José made a quick exit. “José says you gross two million a year. Fifteen percent profit.” He was wandering around the shop floor, looking at the various projects. “You could have thought up a more original name than First Street Body Shop.” He glanced to Tris and bit his lip. “But that’s neither here nor there.” He cleared his throat. “The real triumph is the way you reconfigured your engines to run efficiently on recycled oil. Nothing short of brilliant. It could make recycled oil commercially feasible. Important technology for the planet. Tremaine Enterprises could help bring it to market.” His father sounded tentative, waiting for Tris’s reaction.
“Like you want to know about my business now?” His father’s hesitant tone didn’t deserve that slap-down. But Tris was confused. What was the game?
His father bit his lip again, then took a breath. “I’m sorry I’ve never been down here, son. I was wrong to let your... independent streak push me into being overbearing. Brina always said... but I didn’t listen.”
“Always a mistake.” Tris wouldn’t smile. But it felt good to hear his father say that.
“Might I point out that you’ve never cared about the family business either?” His father raised his brows.
“You might.” Okay, so it came out a little snarly.
“Look, I know how you feel about me. I guess I didn’t know what to do with a son who wanted different things than I wanted. I handled it badly. I realized that when I saw you get out of that old pickup two days ago in the driveway.” He cleared his throat. “I’m still not quite sure how to... fix it between us. Maybe you can help me deal with Devin a little better than I dealt with you.”
“Hey, you went and surfed. That probably meant a lot to him.” Tris had to give him that.
“It probably annoyed the hell out of him,” his father said, a rueful turn to his mouth. “Is it too late for us?”
Tris looked into his father’s eyes, and saw something he’d never allowed Tris to see before: pain. And some vulnerability. Tris stuck his hands in his pockets, not knowing what to say. The last thing he had expected from his father was an apology.
“You... you don’t have to decide now. But maybe you could consider a truce. I’ve been thinking and there are things I need to know about your accident.”
“What?” Tris hesitated, then nodded brusquely as he gestured to the office door. Nothingness could wait ten minutes, even if all he got was a lecture on driving drunk. His father had never asked him for anything. Demanded, lectured, but never asked.
The shop was quiet. Most of the guys had gone home for the day. Antonio and a guy who looked sorta like him had stayed to work on what must be one of their own cars. Must be a brother or something. Antonio lifted his chin in salute as Tris ushered his father into the cluttered office. Tris sat behind the desk covered with invoices and filled ashtrays. José still smoked.
His father sat in one of the small Naugahyde side chairs. “Have you gotten back any memory of that night at all?”
Tris hadn’t thought about that night in days. He flicked his mind back, unsure.
“You weren’t drunk, were you.” It was more a statement than a question. His father was full of surprises.
Tris shook his head.
“So I’ve been thinking, how did you run into a semi head-on?” His father looked worried. “I’m not blaming you,” he hastened to add. “I’m trying to figure it out.”
Tris took a breath to calm himself. Okay. His father wanted to know, he’d try to remember. Tris blinked as the image of the moments before the crash flickered in his brain. “I saw headlights just where they should have been on the left side of the road,” he said, hesitating. “Low and close together like a pickup or a car. That must have been Maggie.”
“And....” his father prompted, leaning forward.
“Nothing else. No semi. Where could it have come from that quickly?” Tris couldn’t help but let his frustration show. “I don’t remember the actual crash....” And then something else occurred to him. The sudden silence, except for the approaching pickup. The stilling of the vibrations between his legs. “But I remember the cycle’s engine just ... shutting off.”
His father sat back. “That’s probably the only reason you’re alive. I couldn’t figure out how you survived a crash like that. The semi’s engine cut out too, didn’t it?”
“All I heard was the pickup.” The moment was suddenly absolutely clear in his mind. He blinked back into the present. Thinking about the accident made him feel shaky.
“I thought it must be something like that,” his father said, frowning. “This is serious.”
“What? That my engine cut out?”
“No, there was a reason you didn’t see that semi. That was an attack on you, son. By someone with magic: a Cloaker who could hide a semi.”
“What?”
“We aren’t the only ones out there with magic in our genes.” He looked at Tris, then down at his hands. When he looked up, his expression was pained. “We ran into someone with powers before. An old woman. She wanted us to join her.”
“You didn’t?”
“She was... not like us. She wanted to use magic to the wrong end.”
“For personal gain?”
His father barked a laugh. “Oh, yeah. Your mother and I escaped her. Disappeared for a while in Borneo. When we came back, we changed our name, just in case she was still alive.”
That shocked Tris. He’d never known his father to be afraid of anyone. “You mean our name isn’t Tremaine?” Tris’s world was turning upside down.
“Trevellyan. Close.” He smiled, a lopsided little grin. “So believe me, there could be someone out there with powers.”
“But someone who can make himself invisible? That’s just too Star Trek.”
“How else did you miss a semi?”
That made Tris think. “Why would he shut off the engines if that was what saved me?”
“He didn’t,” his father said, staring at the ashtray. He obviously wasn’t seeing it. “I’ve been thinking. Had you met Maggie before the accident?”
Tris swallowed. “Met her in a truck stop diner. Followed her out to the mustang sale.” He smiled a little. “She wasn’t giving me the time of day, but....”
“But you just couldn’t seem to help yourself.”
Tris nodded. “I was on my way back to Austin that night because she liv
es near there.”
“When you were attacked and left for dead.” His father now stared at the floor. “I’ve been such a fool.”
“You? I was the one trailing all over Nevada after a girl I met at a truck stop diner.”
His father heaved a sigh and looked up at him. “Here’s what I think. I think you stopped your engine and probably the semi’s engine too. On some level you sensed the presence of the truck and you were trying to save your life. I think your power has something to do with machines. It’s what you were born to do, no matter how I tried to convince you otherwise. And your power emerged when you met Maggie, just as her power emerged and she was able to calm you on the way to the ER, no matter how much pain you were in.”
“How did you know about that?” Things were moving a little too fast for Tris.
“Your mother got it out of Maggie.”
“She could calm horses before she met me. She’s been doing it for years. She got her power from her one true love, all right. His name was Phil and he dumped her.” It hurt so much to say that he thought he might throw up again or put his fist through the wall. He grabbed his right wrist and held on so his father wouldn’t think he was a loon.
“Well, then Maggie O’Brian is a lucky woman because lightning doesn’t often strike twice. I’ll wager she was never able to do what she did out at the barn before she met you. Drew said Maggie was quite shaken by that experience.”
“Wait, wait,” Tris said, shaking his head convulsively. “I don’t even believe in all this.”
“Then you’re going to miss the chance to return the favor Maggie did you out on Highway 50.” His father’s voice was hard.
“What do you mean?” Maggie had saved his life. Tris could feel the blood drain from his face, leaving him light-headed.
“Why do you think someone with magic attacked you, Tristram? Because you have the potential to be very powerful and you are a Tremaine.” His father got up and paced the small office behind the visitor chairs. “The old woman was collecting people with power, not just your mother and me. You join them or you die, because they don’t want competition.”
“They weren’t recruiting.”
“No. You’re my son. I refused the call, so to speak. I think they found us through Victor. Not that he’d betray us willingly. And there you were, alone, without protection, traipsing all over Nevada after Maggie, looking like you’d found your destined lover and would come into your power. And your lover had to be carrying Merlin’s DNA too....”
Tris thrust to his feet, tipping over the desk chair. “My God, Maggie’s in danger.”
“They’ll want to bring her over to their side, or kill her.”
“For God’s sake, why didn’t you say so when you first walked in?” He fumbled in the back of the top drawer of the file cabinet for the Smith and Wesson .45 he kept there for emergencies in a tough neighborhood.
“You wouldn’t have believed me. Get in the Lexus. We’ll go together.”
His father was offering to help him save Maggie? Wonder of wonders. He glanced to the Lexus. “You won’t go fast enough.”
“I did a few laps with Dale Earnhardt Jr. once.”
Which made his father one very good driver who liked to go fast. Still no dice. “Lexus can’t make it through traffic like a bike. Sorry.” He put the gun into his waistband.
His father sighed. “I don’t want you going into danger alone, boy. But I know by now I can’t stop you. You know where she’s going?”
Tris realized that it might have cost his father something to come down here today. He wondered if his mother knew what his father intended. “Yeah,” he said, as he grabbed his leather jacket. He pushed around the desk and out past his father. “Thanks for telling me.” He grabbed the door handle and jerked out into the shop at a run.
“Be careful,” his father said from the doorway. “And look for flickers. He’ll have to keep his concentration up in order to cloak at a hundred percent.”
Tris nodded as he closed on the nasty, powerful-looking metal animal in the corner. The Ducati was the fastest thing in the shop. It was a Desmosedici: 200 HP of racing snarl. He couldn’t have asked for better. “Antonio,” he called. “Lift the bay door.” Antonio dropped his tools, broke for the front, and began hauling on the chain. Tris caught a narrow look from Antonio’s brother. What was that about? Tris kicked the cycle to life. It growled and whined. Antonio tossed him a helmet. He shoved it on his head, pulled on the jacket, and revved the engine until it squealed.
His father looked pained. “Good luck, son. Find her fast.”
“She’s made it back to Austin by now.” He watched his father’s mouth go grim. He didn’t believe she’d made it. If she hadn’t, Tris would spend his life looking for anyone who’d hurt her. He felt the knife turn in his gut. But it wasn’t the sickness from denying her. Or denying his heritage. The nothingness was gone.
It was replaced by fury. Five hundred miles to Austin. City traffic before he could let the Ducati really rip. Six hours? Seven? He’d better make it less.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Jason flipped his phone shut. The plant they had in the shop, the brother of some guy that worked there, said Tris Tremaine had just stormed out on a red Ducati, on his way to Maggie O’Brian’s place.
Jason felt a current of excitement course through his body. He could avoid punishment.
But just thinking about that brought back the memories. The face that haunted his dreams hung over him. The tattooed hand pulled up his head. Jason thrashed against the ties on his hands but he couldn’t get loose. And the terrible thing was going to happen, though he thought he’d made sure it would never happen again. A scream lurked in his throat somewhere.
Jason pushed the scream down. He squeezed his eyes shut against the images. He was going to make it out without the old woman punishing him. He was. This was his chance.
His only one.
*****
Maggie pulled around the shack to the shed in the early afternoon, feeling as empty as her clattering trailer. She killed the engine and closed her eyes. How the hell was she going to get the truck back to Tris? The last thing she wanted was to be indebted to him. She wanted no connection at all, now that the horrible feeling of being connected to him had finally faded.
That’s right. No connections. They just left you vulnerable. She ran her hand over her damp forehead. In that case, why wasn’t she invulnerable? The year her mother deserted her had been bad. Elroy hit the bottle. .By the time she got to high school, Phil the Rat had seemed like the answer to her prayers. First kiss. Feeling wanted and confident and suddenly sure of who she was. Pretty heady stuff. Right until he left without a word. The aftermath was a pale shadow of the rupture she felt earlier this morning with Tris. She’d cried for a month. But that was okay. Got him out of her system. Her dog had run away. Even her horses were only passing through. She had no connections then, and she’d kept it that way since.
She was well out of whatever craziness the Tremaine family was into. Magic? Powers? She’d believed it this morning. Who wouldn’t believe Mrs. Tremaine, with those soft, caring eyes and that “All-Mother” thing going for her? Maybe it was a crock. But Tris had been healed and Maggie herself had done... something in the barn. That just meant she had to leave the crazy behind, get back to normal.
She opened her eyes and gazed out across the desert beyond the Palo Verde trees. Whole lot of butt-ugly nothing. Pretty much like her future.
She sighed. The horses would need watering. She opened the truck door and climbed out. The windmill turned, creaking in the desert wind. She couldn’t help but think about Tris, grease on his forehead, fooling with that engine, working his magic. Tears welled in her eyes.
Get over it, Maggie. The likes of Tris Tremaine were never meant for you anyway.
“Get in here, girl,” the hoarse voice sounded behind her.
She wiped her eyes and looked around. “Hey, Elroy.”
“He got h
is fill of your little cunt and dumped you, didn’t he?” Elroy’s eyes were yellow. He looked like some kind of demon.
His liver is failing. Better get him into Reno tomorrow. She refused to think about what he’d just said. “Let’s see what’s in the freezer for dinner.”
Elroy turned into the house in disgust. “At least you’re good for somethin’.”
She trudged into the house behind him. This was her future. Elroy stood in the middle of the shack, his back to her. “Get my pills from my nightstand. I forgot to take ’em this morning.”
“Okay.” She pushed into the dirty room. He wouldn’t let her clean it. It smelled of piss and vomit. She’d clean when he went into town to get liquor, no matter his anger when he found what she’d done. If he was still capable of going into town. The room was dim since no light penetrated through the boarded-up window. Where were the brown plastic pharmacy bottles? Wait. Where was the nightstand?
The sound of the door slamming startled her. She spun, the room now dark. The sound of a chair being moved in under the knob was unmistakable.
“Two can play at this game, missy.” Elroy’s cackle struck fear into her heart.
“Let me out, Elroy,” she said, trying to keep her voice calm.
“Not likely,” he muttered. “Might as well get something outta you, with the effort it took to raise you all these years.”
“What are you talking about?” This was not good. She looked around. He’d taken out the nightstand because she’d be able to use it as a battering ram on the plywood over the window.
“Just like your mother,” Elroy sputtered. His voice moved away. “No-good dirty whore.”
Mother leaving made him this way, she recited as a mantra to herself. “Just let me out.”
“Not likely.” He was coming back. An echoing thunder sounded. “Shit, fuck, piss. Ow!”
He ... he was nailing the door shut. He’d hit his thumb. More pounding. He was so weak it was hard. What the hell was happening here? “Elroy, what do you think you’re doing?”
01 Do You Believe in Magic - The Children of Merlin Page 26