At Your Command

  Tom thought a moment before he spoke. Her words weren't always clear. "And you have brought me? I am flattered, Maggie."

  "Yes, no job, no husband, no kids, but what the hell, I've got a genie." Her smile appeared genuine, but her eyes didn't dance.

  "Jinn," he replied, his correction automatic. Sarcasm, definitely sarcasm. Andy had explained it to him. The young often had a grasp on what adults considered their domain. "Tonight, I am a magician who cannot practice magic."

  So bitter his thoughts had become. The abyss called to him. Maybe the dead were coming to visit him after all.

  By the time they entered the high school gym and pinned on their badges, Maggie had grown even more lifeless. The crowd and the activities excited Tom, but Maggie found a chair and sat. "If any one asks--"

  "I'm Tom," he said, reading his name badge upside down, "and I'm a guest."

  "Everyone lies at these things, so if anyone asks for details, feel free to embellish. No one will remember in the morning."

  So much for her holding him in high regard. She expected him to lie.

  The gym, where Tom had this afternoon entertained the children, had been transformed. The large overhead lamps had been extinguished, replaced by those that flashed bits of colored light. The music was not composed by Bach or Tom's personal favorite, Mr. Beethoven, but the beat was compelling.

  He wanted to see her skirt swirl. She wore practical shoes with low heels that hid her arches. She had no veils to remove, as Tandia did when she entertained her father's customers, but Maggie's dress revealed much already.

  "Aren't you going to dance?" He looked at Maggie's feet with optimism, but they didn't move in rhythm as his did.

  Maggie no longer looked listless, but anxious. After removing her hat and his, she stood and took his arm. "You're right, I'd better come with you. We can get some food first and then I'll teach you how to dance."

  Dance? Had a master ever asked him to perform a more humiliating act in public? Reluctantly, Tom followed when Maggie tugged on his arm. He regretted the hour he'd promised to leave magic behind, because now it was his fervent wish to disappear between the floorboards.

  FOR SOMEONE WHO had been dead set against setting foot on the dance floor only two hours ago, Tom had caught on fast. Maggie could almost see the mental process in his eyes. When he figured out they would dance together and dancing involved putting his arms around her waist, there was no stopping him.

  She wasn't the only person who enjoyed Tom's dancing. More than once when they tried to take a breather on the sidelines, someone grabbed him by the arm and pull him onto the dance floor. Even total strangers, of which there were many, amid the public county school staff and alumni. Over the arm of her current dance partner, she watched Tom whirl the mayor's wife around the room.

  A few moments later, Tom appeared at her partner's back. "Excuse, me." He said quite politely. "I have returned to claim, My Maggie."

  Maggie didn't bother to correct him. Mr. Nygard, her tenth grade chemistry teacher, smiled and released his hold on her.

  Tom whisked her away, barely losing a beat. "What's a boy toy?"

  "That's an odd question," Maggie said, not wanting to think, but enjoy being in Tom's arms again. "Where did you hear the term?"

  "A young woman I was dancing with earlier."

  "The mayor's wife."

  "No, a young girl, not an old foggy. Is that a derogatory term, old foggy?"

  "Not something to say to the mayor's wife, or to me, for that matter."

  "She applied the term quite generally when she asked who my date was for the evening. I know you said this wasn't a date, but you did encourage me to lie."

  "Hmm," was all that came out. It was a slow dance and Tom had a way with slow dances. He had a way of making her feel they were in bed, only standing up. He pressed his entire body against hers, leaving no doubt that bed was exactly where he wanted to take her. No matter how thirsty she got, she would not send Tom for another drink and give the other ladies a chance at him.

  "When I pointed you out, she asked me how old I was," Tom said. "I didn't have any idea what would be appropriate. When I said fifty she laughed, so I said twenty-one. I didn't want her thinking I was illegal. That's when she said I was a boy-toy. Yours. Should either of us feel insulted?"

  "Next time why don't you say thirty? It's a nice round number."

  "As you wish, My Maggie," he whispered. Next, he kissed her ear and pressed her more firmly against him with a hand against the small of her back. "I don't believe Mrs. Hanson would approve of me entertaining a young woman in my bed. Is Sarah home this evening?"

  Maggie looked over her shoulder, expecting the principal would show up at any minute and tell them not to dance so close. She giggled and whispered back to him. "She's gone until Christmas."

  Tom had stopped dancing. He pushed her away from him, the arm that held her waist straight and stiff. "We have company. Or rather you do, Maggie Yates."

  Her blasted full name again. What had happened now? A glance over her shoulder provided the answer. Chet. Hadn't she told him to leave, twice? Okay, in all fairness, she could only count once, what with Tom's memory alternations. "What is he doing here?"

  A malevolent gleam appeared in Tom's eye and his lip curled. "If you don't wish to see him--"

  That's all she needed. Tom turning Chet into a toad in front of everyone. Now that she worked here, she was even less eager to have Tom get the whole town talking.

  "I'm happy to see Chet," she said through gritted teeth. What's the interfering bastard want now?

  Tom didn't release his hold or start dancing. He held her in a formal dance pose, like they were in eighth grade and he was afraid to let their bodies touch. Tension radiated through his warming palm and down her back.

  When he finally spotted them, Chet raised his arm to wave. At the same moment, Andrew, Shelley's husband, tapped Tom's shoulder to cut in. Dance with her new boss or her ex-fiancé. Was her life the only one filled to the brim with these challenges?

  Tom solved the dilemma for her. "Mr. Summers, Miss Yates would be most pleased to dance with you."

  Considering their rocky start, she was surprised to see the men exchange genuine smiles. Tom released her to the principal's arms. With a hand still resting on her shoulder, Tom whispered in her ear, sending a wave of tingles down her back. "I'll deal with Chet."

  "Yes," she whispered, still caught up in the magic of Tom's breath on her neck.

  Throat clearing from Andrew returned her to reality. "I asked Tom to see that you saved one of your dances for me."

  Damn, what did Tom mean he'd deal with Chet. Maggie almost twisted an ankle maneuvering to search for the two men. Tom had promised no magic. Chet should be able to handle anything Tom threw his way as long as he didn't cheat. When she stepped on her boss's foot, she returned her attention to business.

  "Sorry," Andrew said, holding her more stiffly. "I won't keep you long. I just wanted to tell you how glad we are that you introduced us to Tom."

  "You are? I mean...ah, of course, you are. Tom's very good with children."

  "And parents."

  Maggie stopped searching for Tom and started to listen. Andrew, in a daring effort to save his feet, came to a halt in the middle of the dance floor. "I hadn't realized how bad things were until Tom started to take care of Andy for us."

  This didn't sound good. Maggie bit her tongue to keep from jumping to Tom's defense. The band had switched to the monster mash. Neither of them moved.

  "It sort of snuck up on me, I guess. All the pressure at work, the baby coming. Then Chet called and asked about the tests Shelley ordered for Andy behind my back. I got so mad I couldn't think straight. Everything came down at once. I stormed through the door that night ready to confront her. I mean, I'm the expert in these things. I'm the husband here. Who is she to say something is wrong with my boy?"

  His hands tightened uncomfortably on Maggie's shoulders.

  "Andy has a learn
ing disability," she said, hoping to diffuse some of his tension by labeling it. "It's not terribly severe, and he has great compensating skills."

  "Damn it, that's not the point, Maggie. My son is fine. It's me who has the problem and it took a total stranger to show me that." He took a tentative step or two, as if deciding whether to continue. "When I got home I was so mad all I could see was Shelley. One minute I was telling her what a mess she was making of our lives, and the next Tom was shoving me out the front door."

  Maggie glanced around for Tom again. No sign of him.

  "That's when it hit me. I should be the one protecting my wife. She was there with a new baby. Andy was at the table doing his homework. The last thing she should have to worry about is her husband coming home and yelling at her in front of the kids." Tears shone in his eyes now.

  Maggie looked away again, searching for Tom among the dancing couples. Through Andrew's eyes she was seeing a new Tom, one she suspected most of Rawley saw. He wasn't that little boy she'd seen in the cloud of smoke. He was a protector, and he could be a husband.

  "Tom's a great guy, Maggie, the greatest. But I want to be the one to take care of my family. I don't want them afraid of me. Do you think you could find someone...you know...who could, well, I could talk to...we could talk to?"

  "I can recommend someone you can call for personal and family counseling, and we can go over Andy's report together."

  "Thanks, Maggie, for this and for Tom. I don't know what we would have done without him. He's been a real source of strength for Shelley through all of this and a real friend to Andy. I just hope that...well...we won't need him quite so much from now on."

  Maggie wanted to thank Andrew, too, but she wasn't sure how or what words to say. The realization remained half formed in her mind. After Andrew said his good-byes and left her next to an enormous bowl of bright orange punch, she started to look for Tom again.

  Her concerns about Tom seemed petty now. He had a gift when it came to working with kids. Anyone who could figure out how to use a computer in less than a day would have no problem getting a degree eventually. Tom could read. She'd never seen him write, but he could type. If he started at the community college level, she could work around his lack of school records.

  If that didn't work out, if Tom wanted to wash dishes and bring meals to shut-ins for the rest of his life, who was she to argue? Argue? Since when did she measure people's worth by the number of their degrees or the size of their paycheck? He was a wonderful, sweet man, and he kept her feet warm.

  On her way across the gym floor, Ben Johnson nodded stiffly. "So where's our boy tonight? He told me he was coming with you."

  Obviously, the mayor disapproved. Maggie didn't have time to worry about his opinion. She needed to find Tom.

  As she stood scanning the crowd, she wiggled her toes in her sensible black shoes, finally admitting to herself she'd worn them instead of her sexy black sandals with the spaghetti straps so she wouldn't draw Tom's interest.

  When Tom was around, she was happy. That had to count for something. Maybe for more than living in a reality she'd always believed was true. Tom was here, he was real. What was she doing but holding his past against him?

  No wonder the mayor was angry with her. She would have been the first to protest if people in the town had rejected Tom because of his dark complexion, his foreign accent or his unorthodox ways. Instead, they had embraced him. He'd won them over by...by...it was hard to pin down how. Just by his being Tom, she guessed. But she had judged him as being unsuitable, not good enough, just because he was several thousand years old and used to live in a box.

  Maggie started to move faster. The lights were turned low, an old disco light hung on a raised basketball hoop sending dizzying light bouncing off bits of costumes.

  She had to stop thinking of him as tall, dark and cursed, and start thinking of him as tall, dark and sweet, like everyone else did. Or indispensable, like Mrs. Hanson who depended on him to buy her groceries and weed the garden she couldn't bare to see go wild. Or Andrew and Shelly whose marriage he might yet help save. Tom had probably touched dozens of other people she didn't know about.

  Damn, she was going crazy. She was in love with a myth and it was starting to make sense.

  Twice she thought she'd found him only to discover vampire teeth behind the black cape. Why had she been so afraid of Tom? His magic seemed benign now compared to all the dangers she knew lurked in the world.

  Finally, she spotted him. His black costume made him hard to pick out in the darkened gym. He and Chet stood at the top of the bleachers.

  Maggie stepped onto the bottom step.

  Andrew, standing five feet away, called to her. "I've been chasing kids down off the bleachers all night. We're going to fold them up. Would you tell whoever is up there to come down?

  Maggie jumped to the next level. Tom's cape flared when he raised his arms to gesture toward the dance floor. It threatened to swallow Chet, who backed away.

  Chapter 13

  THIS WASN'T WORKING and Tom knew it. The tingling in his fingers reminded him of the power he could so carelessly unleash. Even without magic, he could do major damage, and Tom felt like taking a swing at Chet's square jaw.

  "Why don't you let me take the check to Margaret? That's why I'm here. I sold her car for her. Damn it, you're the one who told me she'd be here."

  "First, you will explain what you meant when you said Maggie would change her mind."

  Chet was smiling that phony smile he'd used when telling Shelley not to worry about ordering Andy's tests. "No need to get hostile."

  No need to get hostile? Well, Shelley had had good reason to worry. Luckily, Tom had been there when her husband returned home. Tom hated to think what might have happened if he hadn't been there to throw Andrew out of the house. Tom had taken the precaution of informing the holy man at the church to ensure Andrew lived up to his promises.

  "It wasn't meant as an insult to you personally," Chet continued. "We all know how fond Margaret is of you. In fact, if you weren't here I doubt she would have stayed in this backwater as long as she has."

  Tom was liking this Chet person less and less. Not a suitable mate for his Maggie at all. The need to blast this mortal across the room was becoming almost impossible to resist.

  "Margaret's probably afraid you'll follow her back to California if she leaves, and she'll feel even more responsible for you. Is that where you first saw her, at Berkeley? You can get along in a place like this, sure. It's a small town, lots of do-gooders with nothing better to do than look after people like you. In the real world people like you slip through the cracks. Just sane enough to pass, but not functional enough to make it on your own. Out in California you did what? Let me guess. A homeless shelter when the weather was bad, park benches when it wasn't. Beds of gullible coeds in between. I know your kind."

  A swing, yes, to the jaw. That would be as satisfying as changing him into a lizard, and would require no magic. Tom flexed his fingers. A wave of cheers from the dance floor distracted him. He had almost forgotten the children. He was here to set an example. The red exit sign flashed at Chet's feet, fifteen feet below the top row of bleachers. Tom would have to move this discussion out the back door.

  Evidently, Chet didn't see Tom's flexing fists or he wouldn't have continued. "If you care anything about Margaret, you'll leave so she can move on. You're an impediment to her career and to her happiness. I'm not going to see her waste her time in this town like her mother did, raising simple-minded brats with the likes of you."

  Tom stepped back. The truth of Chet's words were sinking in, a partial truth. Maggie would not be wasting her time if she remained in Rawley. She had a lot to offer the people here and they had a lot to offer her, but her time would be wasted if she stayed because of him. He couldn't give her what she wanted, couldn't give her a family, couldn't give her a normal life. For every turn of the moon, he would age a day. How soon before people began to notice? Maggie would gr
ow old without him. Tom couldn't make her happy.

  Chet raised his arm and waved. "Maggie! Up here."

  Tom turned to see Maggie standing two rows down the bleacher from them, her face lit by flashes of lights from the whirling ball on the dance floor. Had she heard what Chet said? Had the music below kept the awful truth from her?

  The next time the lights flashed Tom saw them, tears staining his Maggie's face. He crossed the distance between them, lifting his cape when it caught on the seats. Standing this close, her outstretched hand in his, still, he couldn't see her features clearly.

  "Tom, I wish...I wish--"

  "What do you wish, Maggie? I'll do anything for you."

  She shook her head and dropped his hand to wipe the tears from her face. "It's too late for that, remember? I've used up all my wishes."

  The bleachers shook. Chet took a step toward them.

  Tom would have to work quickly, before he came close enough to hear. "Tell me your wish, Maggie, please."

  "It's silly." She looked down at the dance floor and waved to Andy's father.

  Tom took her hand again, forcing her to look at him. "Pretend you have one wish left. What would it be?"

  She was smiling now. The tears had stopped flowing. The abyss tugged at Tom's feet. He could feel it there, waiting to pull him under if he granted one more wish.

  "I...I wish we had a second chance. That we could meet again for the first time. That you weren't..."

  "Not what, Maggie, not a jinn?" How it hurt to say the hateful word, but that's what he was. Before becoming a jinn he'd been nothing but a helpless boy.

  "I wouldn't want you to be anyone but who you are. I love you, Tom. I want to be with you, but..."

  It became so very clear to him now. What Maggie wanted, what he wanted, and the impediment that stood between them. A cloud of dusty smoke rolled at his feet. If the impediment could not be removed then Tom must go and leave Maggie free to find her own happiness.

  Maggie's eyes shot wide open. "Please, Tom, you promised. No magic."