The Canvas Thief

by P. Kirby

  “‘They’?” Maya asked.

  “Huh?”

  “You said ‘they.’ You don’t think you’re human.”

  Benjamin drooped somewhat. “I—I don’t know what I am. Humans aren’t immortal, but…”

  “You look human.” Her face grew hot, but she forged on. “You kiss like a human.”

  To her delight, he blushed too, his face at odds with his coppery hair. “I don’t always feel human.”

  “I’m sorry.” An apology seemed appropriate, though she didn’t know why.

  His expression turned thoughtful and he looked away, finding something fascinating in the slick tile floor. Maya’s gaze followed the familiar line of his cheek down to his chin. After a few beats, he faced her. “Don’t be. It’s not your fault.”

  “If I’m the one that abracadabra-ed you out of your happy life in—”

  “NeoVerse.” A slight smile played on his lips.

  “NeoVerse, then it’s my fault.”

  “It wasn’t happy.”

  “You weren’t happy? That’s…depressing.”

  “No. It wasn’t like that. I wasn’t happy and I wasn’t sad. I wasn’t anything, really.” His long eyelashes swept down over his eyes in a long blink. “I really wasn’t the person I am now. I was just an animated image moving through a cityscape. My world was all experience with no true sentiment.” She saw his chest rise abruptly and his dark eyes widened as if he was startled by his sudden eloquence. “Most days I can’t even remember NeoVerse except in sketchy flashes, and what I remember doesn’t make much sense. I could learn and use logic but I never felt any emotions.”

  “That’s awful.”

  “You can’t miss what you’ve never had.”

  She saw his intention, possibly before he knew what he’d do. His angular chin dipped and he looked at her hand. He reached for it, his fingers as warm and filled with energy as she remembered.

  “I did blame you for what I am.” He tightened his fingers around hers and studied their hands. “Especially after…” He gave a little shudder. “I learned that this world isn’t very happy. I knew you had to be callous, uninterested in what your magic created, throwing new lives into the world without any regard for what happened to them.”

  “I didn’t know—”

  “I know.” The tip of his thumb traced a little circle on the top of her thumb. In response she rolled her thumb under his hand and traced a light circle over the center of his palm.

  “Oh.” His shoulders stiffened and his hand jerked in hers. “Maybe you shouldn’t do that. Not here, anyway.”

  “This?” she said, simultaneously amused and startled by his reaction. She tightened the circle, noting his wide-eyed stare at the table’s surface. “Why?”

  He squirmed his hand in hers, catching her thumb. “This is why,” he said, mimicking her actions on her palm. Maya knew a slight tickle of fingers on palm was pleasant, but this went beyond just pleasant. His thumb skated over sensitive skin, leaving a hot trail of energy. Perhaps because he was hitting an acupuncture point, the charge shot straight to her groin.

  “Oh, wow. Wow.” She gasped. “Keep that up and I’ll reenact that scene with Meg Ryan in When Harry Met Sally.”

  “Tempting.” His grin dripped with unabashed attraction.

  “I think people only get away with that kind of behavior in movies. It would probably get us kicked out.”

  “I’ve never been kicked out of a restaurant before.”

  Heart racing, Maya was starting to wonder if there was a hotel nearby. “Keep that up and it’ll happen.” Forget a hotel; perhaps they could manage something in the back of her little SUV.

  He gave her palm one last swipe and released her hand. “At least you can hide your reaction. I can’t get up. At least, not until I think thoughts of large Germanic women with mustaches.”

  It was Maya’s turn to grin wickedly. “Really? I’m flattered.”

  His eyes rolled skyward. “Brunhilde in her Viking helm, singing Wagner.”

  She lifted an eyebrow at him. “So was that my magic lesson?”

  “Of a kind.” He glanced at the table and scooped up the forgotten padlock. Maya opened her hand as he offered it to her. “There are probably as many variations of spell words for an unlock spell as there are species of Fey and demons. But the one I learned is in Elvish.”

  “Cool. Elvish.”

  Benjamin shrugged. “Elvish is a hard language to learn. I’m trying, but so far I haven’t got much farther than ‘hello’ and a few curse words.”

  Maya rubbed her thumb over the little padlock, feeling nothing but cold metal. “Wouldn’t they mean something like, ‘unlock’?”

  “No.” He shook his head. “What matters is the rhythm of the words, not what they mean.”

  Nibbling on her lower lip, Maya took a deep breath. “So, what are the spell words?”

  “Ethes ar mo chree go djo.” He repeated the words. “The third and fourth words sort of slur together.”

  Her first attempt at the phrase hopeless and garbled, she gave the lock a sad smile. “I guess I couldn’t hope to get it on the first try.”

  “Well, actually—” Benjamin cleared his throat “—the spell words are only part of the process. Otherwise we’d be firing spells off every time we accidentally said the right words.”

  “It’s never easy, is it?”

  “The spell words are the easiest part.” His fingers brushed her palm and she shivered as he took the lock from her. With a quick perusal of the restaurant, he laid his hand on the table, palm up, the lock on it. His lips parted as he drew in a deep breath. There was a pause and then a hum, deep and more of a vibration that she felt in her bones than anything musical, resonated through her. “Ethes ar mo chree go djo.” The lock clicked open.

  “Show-off.”

  He laughed. “Half the time, my spells fail. This time I got to impress the girl.” He handed the lock back to Maya. “Push down on the lock arm but don’t close it.” When Maya did, he said, “Feel the spring? Your innate magical energy is like that spring. It can’t do any work until you compress it.”

  “Okay, and how do I compress it?”

  “This is where it gets hard. There is no one-size-fits-all approach.” His smile held an attempt at reassurance. “The method that works for me is to imagine the feeling of anticipation when I’m expecting something—something good.”

  “Like a kid waiting for Santa Claus?”

  “Yes. That might work. Remember that feeling, the tension in your gut, and then imagine your innate magic getting bound up tight by all the tension.”

  “And then I say the words?”

  “Only when you can really feel your power, feel it pushing back like the spring. Say the words, and then relax and let the spell go.” Maya could feel the muscles in her face, especially around her eyes, tightening with confusion. Benjamin reached over and snapped the lock shut. “It takes a while, Maya. Like everything, it takes practice.”

  They spent the next five minutes going over the spell words, which, as Benjamin predicted, was the simplest part of the spell. Maya had always been good at languages anyway. Next, she tried to compress her power. “Maybe you need another memory,” Benjamin suggested when Maya’s Christmas memories didn’t work.

  Benjamin had the silly befuddled smile on his face and a familiar ache niggled at Maya. This morning she’d been beside herself waiting for his call. She swallowed and remembered that sensation. Something coiled inside her, vibrating with struggling energy.

  “I think you’ve got it,” Benjamin said, his voice low. “Say the words and try to release the spell.”

  “Ethes ar mo chree go djo.” As she spoke, she found that she’d been holding her breath. Nonetheless, the words slid smoothly from her and she relaxed as Benjamin had instructed. Just like the little spring, only with an added electrical frisson of energy, energy stretched joyously throughout her body, tingling in her fingers.

  And the lock remained
locked.

  “Well, darn,” she said, glowering at the little device.

  “That’s funny. I thought it would work.” Benjamin’s elegant eyebrows rose to make a peak above his eyes. “I felt your power working.”

  “Practice, right?”

  “Yeah. Of course. When you said the spell words, you did feel them vibrating your magic, right?”

  Maya shook her head. “Nuh-uh. At least, I don’t think so.”

  “The spell words mold your compressed energy into the right kind of magical shape. With all the power you compressed, it should have been easy to do that part.” Realizing he was being less than reassuring, Benjamin grinned. “Practice, practice.”

  Maya wanted to say, “Okay. Let’s practice all afternoon then.” Except that wouldn’t keep her gainfully employed. She darted a look at her watch. “Oh. I’m about to be late.” Opening her purse, she pulled out a couple of bills.

  “I’ll get it. You can go on to work before you’re late,” Benjamin said.

  “My treat. Consider it payment for the magic lesson.” She dropped the bills and some change on the table. Benjamin stood as she did. He shoved his hands in his jeans pockets and she felt the awkwardness in his posture. “Thanks.” Unsure what to do next, she held out her hand to him.

  He contemplated her hand for too long a moment and then took it, giving a gentle squeeze. “Be careful, Maya, huh?”

  Maya studied his face, noting the sudden sadness and taken by the notion that he knew about her date with Adam later that evening. She thought about Benjamin’s comments about Adam the evening before. What if Benjamin’s bias against Adam was rooted in more than an old rivalry?

  “I’m resourceful, remember?” To defuse the tension, she said, “I assume my lesson fee is refundable if I’m not satisfied?”

  He plucked the lock off the table where she’d left it and handed it to her. “Of course, but the student has to take some responsibility too.”

  Fingers wrapped around the cool surface of the lock, she winked. “Practice, practice.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Maya marched on the stair machine with the determination of a platoon of marines. It was war and the calories pumped into her body by the doughnut were the enemy. To the beat of a mix CD put together by Roland, she annihilated calories and shrank fat cells, or so she hoped. A few step machines away, a tall, leggy brunette, who reminded Maya of Joni, the hostess at the Mako, showed off perfect dentistry to a man whose muscled shoulders seemed to have swallowed his neck. The brunette leaned forward and gave No Neck a bird’s-eye view of her cleavage. No Neck gazed at the brunette’s breasts with the mesmerized contentment of a moth just before it hit the bug zapper.

  Out of the corner of her eye, Maya saw a thin man in his fifties eyeing her. Her polite smile, a few days ago, had been interpreted as an excuse for him to come over and tell her how much he admired the Japanese people. When Maya had explained that she was half Chinese, not Japanese, he had been completely unperturbed and waxed poetic on the merits of chow mein. Before long he had moved onto the old “I think Asian women are the most beautiful women in the world” line.

  Maya slid her gaze back to the display on the machine, locking her attention on the computer readout. After a minute, she sank into the solace of thoughts of Benjamin.

  Her presence at the gym was proof her heart wasn’t in her date with Adam. If it were, she would already be home, washing, buffing, moisturizing every square inch of her body. Instead she was in the gym, giving herself just a scant forty-five minutes to get ready for the date, her mind going over every moment, every interaction between herself and the handsome cat burglar.

  She frowned, thinking of how she had lied to Roland, denying anything had happened between her and Benjamin. Her best friend, the guy who had known her longer than anyone except her parents, liked Benjamin despite his vocation. And Roland didn’t even know that Benjamin’s thefts were perpetrated in the commission of keeping magical gewgaws out of the hands of humans.

  When did I get so shallow? she wondered. When did it start to matter what a guy does for a living? I can support myself. When did I decide that “stick-up-his butt professional” guys were the ticket to “normal”?

  Her pace on the machine slowed to a crawl as the realization hit her. For years she’d been operating on the false premise that she could be normal by dating the right guys and having the right career. But none of that could hide who she really was. None of the trappings of normalcy could protect her or her family from the Holders. Better I learn to use my power. I can’t hide it if I can’t control it.

  After battling the bulge for five more minutes, she headed for the lockers, wrapped in the cozy memory of kissing Benjamin.

  At home, she changed into jeans, low heels and a red turtleneck sweater. As she freshened her makeup, she thought about Adam’s kiss. She thought she’d never felt its equal until she kissed Benjamin. Technically, Adam’s kiss was more…overwhelming.

  But the effect faded soon after she was away from Adam. Everything about Benjamin, his presence almost, stayed with her. It was too late to cancel her date with Adam. Anyway, what harm would it do to have a nice evening with a good-looking man? She wasn’t going to sleep with him. A few days ago, she’d been overwhelmed by his charisma, but that was then. Now, she was a new Maya.

  “At least, I hope I am,” she said to her reflection, remembering how flustered she’d been in Adam’s presence, especially after the kiss. Maya plopped on her couch, picturing Adam’s face, which was an easy exercise, and thought about Benjamin’s antagonism toward the man. The two men had spent more than a decade in NeoVerse playing out storylines where Benjamin broke the law and Adam almost, but not quite, thwarted the thief. It was no wonder that the two weren’t on each other’s Christmas card lists.

  Filled with nervous energy, Maya rose and paced around her living room, until she noticed Delilah watching her. Benjamin had arranged the plants so they made a small forest in the left rear corner of the new aquarium. Delilah had immediately chosen the little grove as her new sulk spot, deserting her favorite rock. Maya stopped in front of the aquarium, bent and squinted at the plants, looking for signs of impending plant death. Benjamin had arranged a few large rocks around their roots to keep Delilah from digging them up. So far so good.

  The doorbell jarred her from her thoughts. Maya straightened, remembering an article about monks who could control their heartbeat, and wishing she had the same skill. Hers had started racing despite her best attempts to remind it that she wasn’t interested in Adam Sayres anymore.

  Adam’s raven curls shone wetly in her porch light. His shirt matched his eyes—almost purple blue—and he also wore crisp black slacks and black loafers. Once again, he finished his look with the black leather jacket. Maya instantly thought about Benjamin and his ugly green jacket.

  “Hi,” she said. “Come on in. I need to get my coat.” She hurried to her bedroom.

  “Is this a new aquarium?” he asked when she returned.

  “Yes.”

  “Does the fish always do that?” Delilah had vanished behind her forest.

  Maya grinned. “Don’t take it personally. She hates all men, even my dad.”

  The right corner of his mouth rose and she detected a flash of condescension in his eyes. “I didn’t think fish were that smart.”

  “I didn’t think so either. Until I got Delilah. She’s an Oscar, which are supposed to be smart, although she seems unnaturally so.”

  “Why a fish?” he asked. “Why not a cat, or a dog?”

  “In other words, why not a pet I could actually ‘pet’?” She laughed and looked at her finny pet. “Delilah was a gift from my ex-boyfriend. He thought a fish aquarium gave a house a certain kind of class.” With Daniel it was all about image. “I ditched the guy, but kept the fish.”

  Feeling his eyes on her she turned. Everything about his face was as she would have drawn it: the slim, small nose; high cheekbones that were a bit Asian a
nd somewhat at odds with his round Western eyes; the slightly petulant mouth, smooth pale skin and curly black hair. All very Adam. Even the look in his eyes—as though he were appraising a crime scene—fit, except his gaze made her want to squirm because all that scrutiny was directed at her.

  “Do I have a big ink mark on my face that I don’t know about?” she asked with an overly cheery grin.

  “I’m wondering what it’s like to carry that much power in your blood.” His tone was rather clinical and detached, his closemouthed smile cool. “I’m envious perhaps. As Black has no doubt told you, even he has more innate power than I do.”

  Maya groped for a response. “I—I really can’t do much.”

  “Black and I would disagree.” He cocked his head to the side, and she felt his charm washing over her, power sinking into her skin like butter into hot toast. “You really didn’t set out to make Black and me Real?”

  “No.”

  Adam smiled at Maya in a manner that made her feel ecstatic and uneasy all at once. “But you wanted us to be real, didn’t you?” he said. When she didn’t answer, he prodded, “Weren’t there times when you wished for more than an image on paper?”

  “I—well, of course, when I was younger,” Maya said, unsettled by both the sludgy malaise that had settled over her thoughts and at his line of questioning.

  “And when you were creating the key drawing, the drawing that made me real, you didn’t wish I was real, didn’t think for one second that I could be flesh and blood and a part of your life?” He laughed. “A teenage fantasy?”

  Inside Maya shrank away from Adam, although physically she didn’t move, her muscles impelled by a weird paralysis that kept her standing before him, gaze trapped in his. She didn’t want to answer his question. Remembering the drawing of Benjamin in the diner, her fingers twitched with the muscle memory of pen on paper and her heart sang in reminiscence of the moment when she knew it was done, when she had the perfect likeness of the thief on paper. Two months later, with another drawing, this time of Adam, she repeated the experience. Both times she’d experienced a sense of joy that was almost orgasmic, except there was nothing sexual in the happiness she’d felt—just bright, clear exhilaration.