The Canvas Thief

by P. Kirby

  Six months without sex and I’m ready to give it up to the first criminal who strolls through my door.

  “Let go, please,” she said and Benjamin released her arm with only the slightest hesitation. Though she had every intention of getting her purse and paying him for the new aquarium, she stood rooted to the ground. She took two steps, closing the distance between them. He didn’t move, his attention on her face, even when she reached toward his face and touched his hair. She rubbed several strands lightly between her thumb and forefinger, wondering as she did, what she expected to find—hair dry and brittle from the harsh chemicals in hair color? It felt a lot like her hair, possessed of the same defiant straightness, only a bit softer. Without realizing it, she rose onto the balls of her feet and pushed her fingers back toward his scalp, watching the hall light catch gold highlights that ran the length of each strand down to the root.

  She couldn’t help grinning. “If it’s a dye job, you have to get me your colorist’s name, because it’s fabulous.”

  “Colorist?” He glanced at her hand, then understanding brightened his face and his eyes rolled upward, peering at his bangs. “If I was going to dye my hair, I wouldn’t pick this color.”

  “Why not?” She couldn’t stop fiddling with his hair. “It’s pretty.”

  “‘Pretty’? Not really an adjective I want applied to me.”

  “Why not?” She couldn’t help the flirtatious tone in her voice. “It fits.” Her hand dropped away from his hair, but stopped to rest on his shoulder.

  “I’d prefer ruggedly handsome,” he said with a small catch in his voice.

  “You’ll need a lot more than this—” she tapped the poorly healed break on his nose “—and one itty-bitty scar to make ‘rugged.’” She pressed her finger against the scar on his chin, feeling the faint indentation in his flesh. Where her skin met his, a current moved between them, the same sensation she remembered feeling when Adam touched her.

  Fascinated, she pressed her palm against the side of his face, fingers over his cheek. “Is that magic?”

  “I think so.” The debate raged in his eyes again and then he slipped his fingers in hers, pulling her hand away from his face. The current intensified when his palm touched hers. “I’ve never touched a woman who has innate power before.” His lips quirked with a smile and he looked at their clasped hands. “It’s kind of cool, huh?”

  “Yeah,” she said because that was all her thrumming heart and spinning head would allow. Benjamin looked up from his contemplation of their hands and met her eyes. She was certain they both took a deep breath, for courage or perhaps because neither had been breathing properly in the last couple of minutes.

  They both initiated the kiss, Maya sliding her free hand around his neck, fingers touching the red Lobos sweatshirt and thumb on his neck over his pulse, Benjamin slipping his arm around her waist, his hand still holding hers and binding it gently behind her.

  Benjamin’s kiss had none of the hesitancy of Adam’s or the characteristic caution of a first kiss. Instead they fell into each other like two lovers reuniting after a long absence. The kiss was a comfort she couldn’t get enough of; she ran her tongue over his lips, tasting beer. His tongue met hers and the electric pleasure of magic touching magic swept through her. Benjamin was easily the tallest man she’d ever kissed, and at the moment, she found his height an irritating obstruction. Wriggling her hand free of his, she then wrapped both her hands around the back of his neck, pulling his mouth tighter to hers.

  Horizontal, the height difference wouldn’t matter.

  The full implications of where this kiss was going hit her. The tiny portion of her brain that wasn’t soaked in lust grabbed control of her limbs and like an awkward marionette, she wiggled free of Benjamin’s embrace.

  They stood silent in her hallway, a couple of feet apart, eyes on each other, chests rising and falling at an elevated rate.

  “I’m sorry?” Benjamin said at last, uncertainty etched on his face.

  Sorry? There was nothing sorry about that kiss. Don’t apologize. Kiss me again. Her mouth opened but the words stayed in her mind.

  He made the effort of a grin, but only managed a twitch of his lips. “The shoulder’s healed,” he said, turning his right side slightly toward her. “If you want to get in a shot.”

  Still she was at a loss for words. She wanted to play off his joke, make a fist and punch him lightly on the shoulder. But as much as she wanted to touch him, to sink into the delicious contrast between the familiarity of old love and the impassioned desperation of new, she held back.

  Getting no response from Maya, Benjamin’s expression stiffened and he gave a little nod. “I should be going.” He retreated a step.

  Speak, stupid. “You still owe me a magic lesson.” It took some work, but she got the muscles in her face to make a cheeky grin. “I know how to kiss.”

  Tension broken, they both laughed. He glanced at his shoes and then at her. “Yeah, you sure do.” A shadow moved over his face as he remembered something. “Oh, except, I’m supposed to help Breas tonight. Could the lesson wait until tomorrow?”

  “Big night of crime planned?” Maya asked. Instead of dousing her interest in him like a dash of cold water, his comment sparked curiosity.

  “Maybe,” he said. “How about tomorrow night?”

  “Okay.” She swallowed, just then remembering her date with Adam, a shard of guilt spearing her heart. Benjamin watched her, his expression somewhat hopeful and the rest of him looking scrumptious. Canceling her date with Adam had suddenly become a sensible option. But a part of her resisted the idea. Adam was the good guy and Benjamin was the thief with his heart set on being somewhere called EverVerse.

  “Wait. I have plans tomorrow night. How about we meet around lunchtime tomorrow?”

  “Okay. I’ll call you at work.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Nothing Niles did could annoy Maya this morning. Not even when he brought her a long list of changes to a thirty-piece set of illustrations, changes that negated a previous slew of revisions.

  “Terrific. I’ll have them done in an hour,” she said, smiling benevolently at Nile’s comb-over, which clung with grim determination to his shiny scalp.

  “Don’t forget to change the titles,” he said for the fifth time.

  “Of course not.” Bizarre mirth tugged her mouth into a broader smile.

  She was humming and working through the tenth illustration in the queue when her phone rang. Her heart leaped, and she fumbled and dropped the phone.

  “Sorry. Hello?” she said.

  “Good morning. What’s wrong?”

  “Oh, Mom. Hi.” Her voiced cracked in her attempt to hide her disappointment.

  “What’s his name?” her mother asked.

  Maya gulped. Spider-Man has his spider senses. Maya’s mom had mom sense, an ability that put the web-slinging hero’s senses to shame. “Name?”

  “Child of mine, I know when you’ve gone giddy for a boy.”

  “Mom. I’m almost twenty-eight. I don’t get giddy and I date men.”

  “Pah! Daniel? A boy in love with himself.”

  “If everyone thought he was such a jerk, why didn’t anyone say anything?” whined Maya.

  “Would you have listened? No. Anyway, Daniel wasn’t a bad person. He just wasn’t the right person for you.”

  “Mom, can I ask you a question? Do you remember when I was a kid and you told me to never talk about the things I see?”

  Her mother paused before answering, almost warily, “Yes.”

  “You said that normal girls marry doctors or lawyers, remember? What did you mean by that?”

  “I don’t know.” She laughed. “Probably I meant ‘Don’t marry a bum.’” There was another pause. “Is this why you dated Daniel?”

  “No,” Maya said. Yes.

  “So who is the boy?”

  I have no idea. “Nobody, Mom.”

  “Maya.”

  “I just me
t him. I, uh, don’t want to jinx things.” When in doubt, appeal to Mom’s latent superstitions.

  “You have a week,” her mom said. “And then, I want the full story.”

  In a week, he’ll be gone. Maya frowned at the computer screen, frustrated by the redheaded thief’s monopoly of her thoughts. Adam will still be around. Adam is good-looking, responsible and…and what? “The salons, Mom? Any good gossip?”

  Maya’s mom owned two salons, one in Albuquerque, the other in Santa Fe. Albuquerque and Santa Fe’s richest were patrons of the salons. And where there was an abundance of money, there was a corresponding abundance of gossip. Her mom could never resist the urge to pass it on to Maya.

  Maya made “uh-huh” and “really?” noises where appropriate and finished Niles’s illustrations.

  Finally, her mother said, “All right, Maya. You’ve humored me enough.”

  “But—”

  Her mom’s rich laugh rang in her ear. “It’s okay, child of mine. I understand. One week. Then you should bring him down to Albuquerque.”

  “I love you, Mom.”

  As though the universe was having a perverse joke at her expense, the phone didn’t ring at all for another hour. At ten-thirty, after restoring a set of old photographs of mine tailings for another client, she got up and wandered into the break room.

  Someone could always be counted on to bring a fat- and calorie-heavy snack to tempt their coworkers. Roland, his imagination ever on high, thought it might be the work of an alien civilization, intent of fattening the human race, preparing a ready food source for the invasion.

  As if summoned by her thoughts, Roland was sniffing around the remaining doughnuts in a box of Krispy Kremes.

  “Eat me, ee-t mee,” Maya squeaked in a high voice.

  “Okay,” Roland said, yelping when Maya gave his hand a light slap. “You heard them, Maya. They want to die.”

  Maya salivated at a shiny glazed doughnut, wondering if it was worth fifteen extra minutes on the stair machine.

  “So?” Roland nudged her with an elbow. “What happened with you and Ben?”

  “Me and Ben? Nothing.” She licked her lips, surprised by the lie. That kiss was a bit more than “nothing.” “Why would anything…?”

  “A boy and a girl at home all alone. Don’t make me draw you a picture. I’m gay; it’s not a picture I like.”

  “Nothing happened,” she said quickly. Why was she lying? Five minutes ago, she’d been practically begging the phone to ring, dying to hear Benjamin’s voice. Why couldn’t she admit that she liked Benjamin?

  “Not ever? Why not?” Roland looked genuinely confused.

  “I don’t date bad boys—”

  “Oh, right. You date upstanding citizens like Daniel who cheat on you,” Roland said, entirely too pleased with himself. He picked up another doughnut.

  “You’re going to pay for that,” she said, gesturing at the doughnut. “That’s equal to two hours at the gym.” She opened the fridge and pulled out a bottle of water. “What I mean is, I like law-abiding men, good guys.”

  “Ben’s a good guy,” Roland said.

  “He’s a thief.” Who cares? said a voice in her head.

  Roland stared at the doughnut, tortured misery on his face. “Oh, hell, life is short.” He took a bite and chewed. Returning to the subject, he said, “He saved Delilah. Went and got her new home.”

  Maya gulped down the tasteless bottled water and tried not to look at the doughnuts. “He bought the new aquarium. Wouldn’t let me pay for it.”

  “He’s a good guy, Maya.”

  “He said he didn’t need money where he was going.” Remembering his words made her hurt. She grabbed a doughnut and inhaled half in two bites. “He’s still a thief.”

  “I know, I know.” Behind him, the coffeemaker muttered and started to fill the pot. Roland retrieved his mug from the cabinet. He paused to pour a cup and add sugar to his coffee. “It’s crazy, but I like the guy.”

  “You like him because he’s…pretty.”

  “Honey, I have sopping-wet dreams about him because he’s pretty. But I like him, the guy inside the delicious packaging.” Roland’s smile turned smug. “And you just admitted you think he’s pretty.”

  “Pretty thief.” A slight thrill ran through her, her body remembering the electric sizzle of their bodies touching. “He’s obsessed with EverVerse,” Maya said in a low voice.

  “So maybe you need to give him a reason to stick around.”

  “I don’t think that’s possible.” She pictured Adam’s face and made herself smile. “Anyway, I have a date with Adam. Adam’s a good guy.”

  Another plump doughnut beckoned. Maya backed away, lifting the water bottle to her lips like a talisman against the pastry. “I might go to lunch with Benjamin today. If that makes you happy,” she said, trying to sound nonchalant.

  Roland’s dark eyes narrowed and now he looked like a smug Aztec chieftain. “You’re playing with both the pretty boys. I’m impressed.”

  “No.” She sidled up to Roland and lowered her voice. “I asked him to teach me a magic spell.”

  “Huh?” Roland grabbed for a paper towel and held it over his mouth as he coughed. “Doughnut. Wrong pipe.” Maya slapped him on the back as he coughed again. “Are you serious? Real magic?”

  “If I can supposedly turn comic book characters into real people,” she said, still speaking softly, “I should be able to unlock a lock with magic.”

  Roland grinned. “And who better to teach you than the gorgeous cat burglar?” When Maya started her retort, he squeezed her arm and said, “Give him a reason to stick around, Maya.” With a wink and a third doughnut, he hurried off to his desk.

  Her phone was ringing when she neared her desk. Before she could organize a more dignified response, she scrambled around the corner and into the cubicle. “Good morning, this is Maya.”

  “Now that was fun.”

  “Roland!”

  “You’re breathless. Expecting someone?”

  “Don’t you have a doughnut to kill?”

  “It’s all done but the crying.”

  “I’m hanging up now.”

  “Bye,” said Roland with a chuckle.

  He didn’t call until eleven-thirty.

  “I was in Albuquerque until four this morning,” Benjamin explained as they sat at their usual table in the Mako Café. “Breas wanted me to come along on a business deal and act like a Holder.”

  It took Maya a few seconds before she remembered that the Holders were an all-human paranormal police force, dedicated to keeping vampires, elves, demons and other magical creatures from making trouble on Earth. “How do you act like a Holder?”

  “To quote Breas, ‘Just stand around like you have a stick up your ass.’”

  A funny thought occurred to her and she looked at his neck. “Does Breas ever—” she gulped, wondering how to phrase the question “—bite you?”

  “No.” Benjamin smiled and pushed aside the collar on his shirt. The skin was smooth and unmarked.

  He was wearing a long-sleeved, dark blue plaid shirt. Her gaze swept his shoulders, thinking of the body underneath. “Would you even know if he did? Don’t vampires have some kind of hypno-power?”

  He nodded. “It’s called Mesmer. But anyone with innate magic is at least partially immune to it.”

  “Really? It seems like vampires would have a hard time finding a meal.”

  “Only a tiny percentage of the human population has any innate power. That’s why the Holders are so aggressive when recruiting talented humans.”

  “I think my uncle Andrew was taken by the Holders,” said Maya, making the connection as she spoke. “Andrew was my favorite uncle. I say ‘was’ because I haven’t seen him in more than a decade. No one has.” She stared at Benjamin, the living, breathing proof of her ability. “I’m afraid, Benjamin. What if the Holders find out I’ve got power? They’d rip apart my family, wouldn’t they?”

  He started to
speak and then paused, clearly considering his words. “Yeah, they would. But their resources are spread pretty thin. Unless you do something high profile, they’ll probably never know you have power.”

  “Uh-huh. Something high profile, like turn drawings into walking-talking people?”

  “It’s only a problem if one of those people blabs about his origins. I’m not that stupid. Neither is Adam.” Maya opened her mouth, but he anticipated her question. “You, they’d recruit. Adam and me? We’d be locked in a lab and dissected.”

  Maya studied him, considering his words. “That’s why I need a magic lesson. So I won’t have any more high-profile accidents.”

  “Particularly the kind that breaks into your house.” He shifted in his seat, guilt plain on his face. “About that night, I need to—”

  “Make it up to me by giving me a magic lesson?”

  His mouth opened and then closed. “Maybe doing more magic isn’t a good idea.”

  “You’re the only person I know who can do magic. And you’re planning to be somewhere—” the word caught on a painful lump in her throat, and she struggled to keep her voice light “—somewhere else in a few days. If I don’t learn how to use this power, I might keep having accidents.”

  He stared at her, his expression moving from guilt to confusion. He started to say something, paused and then said, “You have a point.”

  He reached behind him and fumbled in his jacket, which hung on the seat back. A second later, he produced a small padlock and clunked it on the table before her.

  “It’s steel, but small amounts of steel don’t usually bother the Fey or demons, much less humans.”

  “What’s wrong with steel?” She leaned forward, fascinated.

  “Iron and its alloys can interfere with magic and in large quantities it makes the nonhuman races sick. Humans and vampires can do magic in the presence of iron because they have an immunity.”