Time Spell

by T. A. Foster

  I needed to avoid discussing Finn’s gift. I was glad his range of powers was in our arsenal against the Proxy, but I couldn’t even think about him right now or that kiss. His secrets weren’t mine to tell.

  “It’s a little complicated, but only chosen witches can perform certain spells. There are some we all share, there are some we can teach each other, and then there are some that are so unique that only a few witches can do them. The Guardian Spell is a gift spell; it can’t be taught. We can’t spell everyone into safety all the time. Besides, we have to let people live their lives. I believe in free will, don’t you?”

  Jack nodded over his mug. This didn’t seem like the moment to rehash college philosophy debates.

  “I do have some more updates for you. I have an idea who might have sent the letter.”

  He set the mug down. “You do? Who is it?”

  “Again, this is complicated, but I’ll try to explain the best way I can.” I took a deep breath and looked into Jack’s eyes, knowing he couldn’t understand this level of darkness. “I think it’s a Proxy.”

  “A what?” I knew Jack would have plenty of questions and I had prepared myself with the Cliff’s Notes version of Magic 101 before coming over. I also had to decide what I could safely tell him without creating more problems.

  “I think it’s a Proxy. It’s a person, or really, a being, who rides on the coat tails of magic. They can sense magic, they can sometimes even see it, but they don’t have any of their own.”

  “Ok, keep going.” Jack focused on me and looked determined to understand every magical word I uttered.

  “Proxies do have the ability to become magical, to use magic, but only if they steal it. If they use their senses to track someone like me, they can take the magic.” I waited to see if Jack would register the enormity of what I told him.

  He took another sip of coffee and leaned in his chair. “So, that’s what this is really about? A Proxy out there wants your power. Someone wants to steal your magic?” He paused. “But if he or she takes that from you, will you still be you? Can you survive?”

  “I don’t know, sometimes yes, sometimes no. The stories I always heard as a little girl were that Proxies would take more than the magic, that they would take the actual life force from a person, but I don’t know if it’s all true.”

  Jack stared at his knuckles while strumming his fingers on the table.

  I continued, “But the good news here is, I think we finally know what we’re dealing with and that’s a big advantage.”

  “Advantage, huh? Do you know who the Proxy is?”

  “I’m pretty sure it was Helen.” Jack looked puzzled. “I mean, she’s not the Proxy now. Not anymore, she died in the plane crash, but I think she saw me in 1968 and told someone. I should have figured this out sooner when she looked right at me, and she was so darn catlike.” Again, I was losing Jack. “Proxies are quite feline, think Siamese cats—they are sneaky and quiet. Really, what better way to creep up on people and steal magic than to be like the stealthiest creatures on the planet?” I had always heard that cattiness of Proxies was their deadliest trait. “My guess is that, before the plane crash, Helen told another Proxy about me and that person was involved in Holden’s murder. And that’s why they don’t want any Vegas Star book or movie sequels surfacing. They also probably think I know more about the VonRue diamonds than I actually do.”

  “But, why did they include me in this master plan? Couldn’t they have just as easily sent you the letter and let you take care of this yourself?”

  “Yes, but they needed insurance that I would follow through. They’ve made me vulnerable now. They knew if they exposed me to you, I would have to share my secret. Plus, if something does happen to me now, the one person who is in charge of my creative work knows what’s at stake, so there can’t possibly be any sequel work. They don’t know what I’ve told you or how much I’ve written of the next book. They’re scared. I think you were just an extra insurance policy.”

  He leaned in closer to the table. “Wait, how are you vulnerable now?”

  I took a deep breath. As if last night wasn’t emotionally exhausting enough, the layers of secrets kept being peeled back, leaving me more exposed for Jack to see. I choose my words carefully.

  “When I showed you the Illuminate Spell, I broke a bond. I’m not as strong as I was. I can’t tune in to some of my family’s gifts. My magic is a little on the weak side.” I sighed. “I think that’s enough for you to know right now.” I could see the concern in his eyes. “I’m ok, Jack. I’m fine.”

  He looked shaken by my confession. “I didn’t know.”

  “It was the only way. Otherwise you might have had me in a jail cell.” I tried to laugh.

  I didn’t want him to feel responsible for my choices. He was right, the Proxy had targeted him, and we couldn’t work together if he didn’t know the truth.

  “What happened after you left here?” he asked.

  I froze and my stomach churned. Were my cheeks turning crimson? “I—uh—”

  “Did you get another clue or something?”

  I smiled. Thank goodness I didn’t need to rehash any Finn dealings. “Actually, it was pretty major. But don’t worry. I’m fine.”

  “Ivy, what happened?” His voice was stern.

  “Someone sort of broke into my house.”

  “What?” His eyes fired as he looked at me. “Are you ok? Was Cooper ok?”

  I don’t know why I thought he could stay calm through all of this. There was nothing ok about any of the events I shared. Any normal person would have already had a heart attack.

  “Yes, yes. It happened when I was here. I’m sure they knew I would be at your house because of the letter and they waited until I was gone.”

  His chest released a pent up breath. “Good. This is unbelievable.”

  “I know it is. And as weird as it sounds, the break-in was actually a good thing. That’s how I figured out the Proxy connection.”

  Jack shook his head and stood. He carried his mug to the sink.

  “What are you going to do next, I mean us, we, what are we going to do next?” He rinsed out the mug and placed it in a drying rack.

  “We’re going to get on that plane to Las Vegas. We’re going to find the rest of the diamonds and hand them over.” I walked next to him. “Give them what they want. Then come back here to our happy, normal lives in Sullen’s Grove.”

  As the last words escaped my lips, I wondered what I would be coming back to, what the fallout would be with my family, and what box had I opened by asking Finn for help.

  He threw a towel on the counter. “You can’t be serious. This is like dealing with terrorists. You expect me to help you find missing diamonds and be a pawn in some mystical cat-and-mouse game for power?” He towered over me. “This is crazy. Last night was crazy. Finding out about you was crazy. But this, this is getting worse. It’s a nightmare.”

  It hurt when Jack uttered the words, my heart stung. I winced, but did my best not to let him see the effect. He was steering off course, and with only a few hours before our flight, I had to get him back onboard.

  “This isn’t your fight anymore. Emily’s safe. You stay, and I’ll go handle this. I have enough to figure the rest out on my own.” I left my coffee on the counter and walked down the hall toward my suitcase. “You’re right. You don’t need to be involved. I can figure it out,” I called over my shoulder.

  I reached for the door handle, but before I had a chance to maneuver my bag through the exit, Jack pushed it closed. “No, not happening. There’s a reason they sent me the package, and I’m going with you. I’m not going to let you face this alone, especially since it’s my fault you might be weaker or something.” I could tell he was uncomfortable with his last statement.

  I prickled at the thought of a powerless Ivy, but smiled because my tried and true reverse psychology plan had done the trick. “Are you sure? It could be dangerous, Jack.” I tried to keep my smili
ng to a minimum.

  “Exactly. It is dangerous. You need someone to watch your back. I might not have any magic, but there’s no way you’re going to Vegas without me. Let me grab my bag. I’m coming with you.”

  He retrieved a leather carry-on bag from his bedroom, grabbed the package on the coffee table, and met me on the front porch. He stopped and smiled, holding up the two airline tickets. Little creases formed around his eyes, and I knew that somewhere behind those deep brown eyes of his was a man who maybe wasn’t afraid of this witch.

  A few hours later, we were boarded on our flight and headed west to Las Vegas. Jack sat next to me, searching for VonRue diamond information on his tablet and grumbling about legroom. I watched clouds race past us at 30,000 feet, and for the first time in thirty-six hours, I closed my eyes to sleep.

  THE BAGGAGE claim buzzed with spring break kids already tipsy from their flights, and bachelorette party girls donned in boas, eyeing infamous bachelor party guys dressed in cutoff shorts and T-shirts. Then, there was the average American tourist who had saved up $1,000 for a once-a-year vacation, ready to throw it all on lucky number seven.

  I fought through the crowd to stand by the baggage carousel. Jack was already out front hailing a cab. He had offered to fight the onslaught of Vegas newbies for me, but I insisted transportation would be more important once I made my way out of the airport. We traveled well together, at least what parts I remembered.

  Once the wheels reached the end of the runway and we launched into the air, I slept almost the entire way. I woke only once to sip on half a cup of a diet soda and nibble on a pack of vanilla cookies Jack had convinced the flight attendant to leave on my tray. I don’t think he slept during the trip. He had that editor look in his eyes—focused and determined to find the answers that would link all of the information together. Thank goodness we had Wi-Fi on the plane so he could work while I slept.

  Right on cue, Jack waited by the curb with a taxi as I passed through the sliding doors of the baggage claim exit. Trying not to inhale the toxic combination of diesel fumes from buses and tobacco clouds from meandering smokers, I coughed as I walked to the car. I handed my suitcase to Jack, and climbed in the backseat. He tried to explain to the bearded driver that we were staying at the Starlight, but the man kept pointing to the marquee on top of his cab. It was an advertisement for the new glitzy hotels. Jack assured him the Starlight was our place.

  I stretched out in the backseat and placed my leather bag in my lap as the man veered through the curly cues of the Las Vegas airport exit. We were headed to old Vegas, and I could tell our driver was disappointed he didn’t get to show off the new razzle-dazzle of the Vegas strip. I pulled my sunglasses down and squinted at the brightness of the desert sun. Even after all of my research and work on Vegas Star, I was still amazed that the desert was the best place the early developers of the 1940s chose to start this resort-style city.

  “Thank you, sir.” The man bowed to Jack while accepting his tip. He jumped in the cab and headed straight back to the airport. I hoped his next group was interested in the glittery strip he wanted to show off.

  “So this is it?” Jack held our bags and looked at the Starlight looming in front of us. “The birthplace of Vegas Star.”

  “It’s been completely renovated. It’s really posh inside, you’ll see.”

  I had a feeling Jack wasn’t interested in the interior landscape of the Starlight, but I was trying in my subtle way to ease his concerns about the trip. Plus, with no definite identity of the Proxy, I was worried about eavesdroppers.

  We detoured around the front desk since we didn’t need to check in. Our host had included our room key in the package Jack received. I pulled the manila envelope from my bag and reached in for the key. Tourists milled about in the lobby, and I could hear the plink, plink, plink of the slot machines coming from the main casino floor.

  I grabbed the plastic square to read the room number. “How could I not have noticed this before?” I turned the key over in my hand a few times and looked at Jack.

  “What is it? What’s the room number?”

  “You aren’t going to believe this. It’s the penthouse.”

  He looked just as surprised as I sounded. I motioned to him and he followed me to the familiar elevator bay. I punched the button for the twentieth floor and inserted the key for top floor access. The car lurched upward and deposited us on the hotel’s highest level.

  I looked around the hallway as we walked to the double wooden doors that were once the temporary home of Holden and Helen Chadsworth. Of course, the walls were no longer wallpapered, and the palms that were situated in front of the hotel mogul’s home with their security guards were no longer in place. The doors had been refinished with a new sheen, but I could tell they were the original giants from 1968.

  “Wow, this is incredible.” Jack strolled toward the floor-to-ceiling windows and surveyed the city below.

  The room was different. The Starlight’s renovation designer had updated the colors and furnishings. No amount of furniture swapping and painting could erase the vibes in this room. I could still feel the same witchy tingle I experienced on my last trip. Now that I was alert to the Proxy, I couldn’t let my guard down at any time.

  “I need to do a few spells, and I don’t want to freak you out.” There was definitely an advantage to not having to sneak around, but I was afraid either way he wasn’t going to like what he saw.

  “Oh yeah, of course, do whatever you need to do. Spell on, or whatever you say.” He turned his back to the city and focused on my magical task.

  I raised my hand and tried to ignore Jack’s inquisitive stare. “Reveal.”

  The iridescent particles formed and made a straight path to the hall bathroom. I followed the trail and noticed they were only floating around the freshly fluffed towels. Then I followed the trail to the second bedroom and saw a path around the corners of the bed, probably just maid service tucking in the sheets. The trail led me to the master bedroom suite, and I stopped. There on the dresser was a large, cellophane-wrapped basket. The particles hovered, glowed, and fell to the floor.

  “What in the hell is that?” Jack brushed past me and headed straight for the gift basket.

  I wasn’t sure if he was questioning the Reveal Spell or the basket, but I walked behind him and watched him unravel the layers of cellophane. Tucked inside was a card with our names inked in blue.

  “Open it. We already know who it’s from,” I urged him as he broke the envelope’s seal.

  Dear Ivy and Jack,

  Welcome to beautiful Las Vegas. I could not be more thrilled you have decided to join me and comply with my requests. Rest, drink up, I’ll be in touch tomorrow.

  Inside the basket was an oversized bottle of champagne, a box of chocolates, a decadent display of cheeses and crackers, a jar of caviar, a tin of roasted oysters, and two fluted champagne glasses.

  If it were not for the evil-tainted note attached to the devil’s gift, I probably would have broken into the basket, starting with the chocolate. I rested my hand on my stomach as it started to growl.

  “Ok, we do need food, but we’re not eating any of this. Agreed?” I asked.

  Jack nodded, tossed the note into the basket, and we headed to the foyer. “Let’s eat in the restaurant downstairs, and we can work on our next strategy.”

  After delivering our plates and topping off our water glasses, Darren, our inattentive waiter, hid near the waiter’s station and fingered through his night’s tips. My eyes danced back and forth, scanning the restaurant entrance.

  “Ivy, I don’t think this is the best place to talk. You’re obviously distracted by the people here and the service really isn’t that great.” Jack pushed the cubed sweet potatoes around under his half-eaten steak and waited for me to acquiesce, before he turned to hunt down Darren.

  “Sorry, I just can’t help but think that everyone who comes through the door might be the Proxy. Somehow, if I can focus enough, I’l
l know who it is, and we can end this nightmare.” It didn’t matter that I knew the Proxy wasn’t going to reveal himself in front of all the Starlight guests. I was in the middle of a tense situation, and I felt a little less rational than usual.

  “I know, but this is no way to have dinner. I know you don’t do your best thinking when you’re stressed. Let’s go back to the room, get out the charts, and get back to work. We can order some room service.” He tossed a $50 bill on the table and put his napkin in the chair.

  He was right. I was never able to write or edit with a deadline hanging over my head. It stifled my creativity and blocked any chance I had of adding even one tiny word to a page.

  I glanced at him. “Ok, that’s a better plan than me giving every poor Oklahoma tourist in here the evil eye.” I giggled and thought I saw a faint smile form on Jack’s face. I ditched my plate of salad greens and grilled chicken, and grabbed my bag.

  We left the constant sounds of the casino slot machines and the shrill screams of jackpot winners and rode twenty floors to the penthouse. The former Chadsworth residence was still and quiet. Holding a chilled glass of vodka and whatever mixer was in the bar, I stood in front of the windows and peered into the Las Vegas night. The weight of tomorrow was bearing down on my soul. How did I end up here? How did I let the Time Spell endanger so many people?

  I sighed and thought about Finn back home, watching my parents, trying to play it cool with Ian, and probably dodging a million questions at work from my inquisitive brother. Luckily for Finn, being cool was his natural state. Years of trying to hold on to him had taught me how cool he could be when necessary. And now Jack—for the past two years, I had imagined every scenario of us spending time together and getting closer, but never did those dreams include being lured into the evil web of a Proxy.

  I could feel Jack’s stare needling my neck. Before turning around, I resolved to channel my inner Scarlett for charm, my inner Buffy for bad-ass-ness, and my inner Samantha for the best witchy can-do attitude. I was going to need the best of all three if I was going to make it through the next few days. I was solely responsible for this situation, and I had to be the one to make things right.