The Canvas Thief

by P. Kirby

  “I—” He looked very young. “You need to get to work, right?” He backed away. “I’ll call you.”

  She swallowed her quip—“That’s what they all say”—squeezed his hand and then got in her vehicle. Pretending to let the SUV warm up, she watched him walk over to his car. Finally, when he got in the brown Volvo, she backed out and drove away, conflicted by melancholy and happiness.

  Benjamin waved at Maya as she drove away, feigning interest in something in his glove compartment. Once her little blue SUV turned and disappeared around a corner, he twisted the key in the ignition, shutting off his car. After counting to thirty, just to make sure she wasn’t coming back, he got out of the car and crossed the street.

  The two occupants of the late-model green sedan watched his approach and the driver rolled down the window as Benjamin drew closer. Peter Angel lifted a cigarette to his lips with bone-thin, nicotine-stained fingers and took a long drag, exhaling a foul plume at Benjamin. Green face devoid of emotion, Octel sat in the passenger’s seat. Curling his lip to reveal teeth as brown as his fingers, Peter said, “How is it that a whiny, girly-boy like you always gets the choicest pieces of ass?”

  Benjamin’s fist, impacting Peter’s stubble-rough jaw, didn’t eject the cigarette. Instead Peter’s gasp of pain dropped the cigarette from his mouth. “Ow! Son of a bitch. You’ll—”

  The car’s door latch kuh-chunked, but Octel stopped Peter from getting out of the car by clenching his powerful fingers around the man’s upper arm. “No,” he said, gesturing with his eyes, “the neighbors. Don’t make a scene.”

  Benjamin groaned in his head, noting that Ms. Kalman was in her familiar post by the window, watching the situation unfold. “Stay away from Maya,” he said. “Both of you.” He leaned over and glared at Octel.

  “Don’t boss us around, sissy boy,” said Peter.

  “Benjamin doesn’t mean to be rude,” said Octel. “He’s protecting his mate. A natural reaction.” Despite his polite tone, the demon’s eyes were bright orange with menace.

  A low buzz of compressed magical power emanated from Octel and Benjamin clenched his fist, using the pain from bruised knuckles and the anticipation of a fight to compress his own magic. “I’m not afraid of you, Octel.”

  “You should be,” said Angel with a titter. “Old Octel here has a taste for pretty women. He might mistake you for a girl.”

  Peter yelped as Octel clenched thick fingers around Peter’s arm. Ignoring Peter, the demon leaned across the seat toward Benjamin. “I have no quarrel with you, Benjamin. But I am in your brother’s employ and I’ve been tasked with watching this woman. If you choose to stand in my way—”

  “He’ll crush you,” said Peter.

  “Adam’s isn’t my brother and Maya isn’t his concern anymore,” said Benjamin, refusing to be cowed. He had no idea whether he could stand against Octel. Breas Montrose didn’t want anyone in his employ who couldn’t fight, and the vampire had arranged self-defense training for Benjamin, both magical and physical. Benjamin’s tutor had been a Teile demon, much like Octel. That demon had been capable of humiliating Benjamin without breaking a sweat. Benjamin hoped that his tutor was the best of the best, and not the norm among Teile demons.

  It didn’t matter now. He couldn’t back down. “You tell Adam he has no power over Maya now.”

  “Why? Because she’s seen your dick?” Peter leered at Benjamin.

  “Because she can repel Mesmer power,” said Benjamin, speaking to Octel because conversation with Peter was pointless. “If she can repel Breas Montrose’s Mesmer, she’ll swat Adam’s power away like a gnat. Got it?”

  Peter grumbled and squirmed, still in the demon’s vise grip. “Yes,” said Octel. “I shall tell him. He will not be happy, you know.”

  “Good. Stay away from Maya.” When Peter opened his mouth to retort, Benjamin observed, “Your lap is on fire.”

  Enjoying Peter’s squeals of pain and the demon’s angry muttering, Benjamin strolled back to his car.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Roland told everyone that Maya had had a virulent case of food poisoning, on the order of Montezuma’s revenge without the trip to Mexico. Very little sleep or food for two days, and a night of sleep interrupted by sex gave Maya the pallor of a zombie. No one questioned Roland’s story.

  When word spread that she was back at work, a steady stream of scientists and engineers trooped into her office bearing work requests. Because it kept her from thinking about Adam, who would not only be wondering about progress on his army, but would eventually try to destroy her studio again, Maya was grateful for each complex distraction.

  She called Roland at ten o’clock. “Can you meet me in the break room?”

  He was already there when she arrived. This morning someone had brought in fudge and Roland hovered around the little tin of chocolate temptation, his fierce countenance looking tortured.

  “Oh, just eat it. Live a little,” she said, heading for the fridge and a bottle of water.

  “Eat it?” Roland eyed her suspiciously. “You sure you’re okay?”

  “Never been better.” She picked the largest square of fudge and took a bite. “I have a question for you.”

  “Shoot.”

  “How do you feel about Eric?”

  Roland’s brow wrinkled, making him look especially fierce. “How do I feel about Eric?”

  “What I’m trying to say is…” What was she trying to say? “How did you know you were in love with him? Really in love, not just lust.”

  “What’s wrong with lust?”

  “Nothing. Come on, Roland, I’m serious.”

  “This about a certain copper-top hunk?”

  Maya pulled a paper towel free of the roll, wadded it up and threw it away. “Maybe.”

  “It is,” Roland said with a happy smile.

  Maya yanked off another paper towel, started to mangle it and then stopped. “Yeah.”

  Roland smiled and then his eyes turned distant. After a time, he spoke. “I was in the grocery store. In the frozen foods aisle. And this enormous woman in a thin polyester tent dress walked by. The woman reeked, Maya! Urine, B.O., and I don’t know what. It was nasty.

  “And I remember thinking about how I was going to describe that horrible woman to Eric.”

  Maya blinked. “I’m sorry, I don’t get it.”

  Roland’s deep brown eyes met hers. “The woman wasn’t important, Maya. What was important was that everything I saw, everything I heard, it all had a new…” He snapped his fingers, searching for the right word. “Context. I wanted to share everything with him, all the little things that never had any meaning before. Stupid stories about women with B.O., and all the crazy stuff my best friend Maya does.”

  “Crazy? Moi?”

  “Crazy girl denying her feelings for hot boy.”

  “Give me a break. I’m getting used to the idea that, if he did a tax return, he’d list his occupation as ‘thief.’”

  Roland picked another square of fudge, broke off half and popped it in his mouth. Eyes calculating, mouth tilted with a suggestion of a smile, he studied Maya.

  “See me squirming?” Maya said. “Do I have an enormous zit erupting from my forehead?”

  “Your after-sex glow is radioactive, but your face is sad.” Openmouthed, he froze just as he was about to eat the remaining fudge half. “Did Eric and I call it wrong? Is he really a jerk?”

  “No.” Maya squeezed the top of the water bottle and noted that the crack of plastic compressing under her fingers made her magic hum. “You called it right. He’s a good guy and I’m going to lose him.” Forestalling Roland’s questions, Maya summarized what Benjamin had told her.

  Roland’s eyes burned with purpose. “We need to call the police or…or the ATF. It’s time for a talk with Adam’s supervisor.”

  “And tell them what? ‘Adam Richards is a comic book character come to life and he wants to burn down my house and send my boyfriend to an alternate univers
e’? With Mesmer power, Adam could probably convince his superiors that I was a comic book character.”

  “Then we should move the drawings, get them out of your house. As long as they’re at your house, you’re in danger.”

  “As long as they exist, I’m safe,” Maya said. “If he tries anything, I can burn them all and send him to EverVerse.”

  “Maybe you should just do that,” said Roland. Rolling his eyes to the ceiling, he slapped his palm to his forehead. “Just burn them and get rid of him. Problem solved.”

  Maya put her hand over her mouth, surprised, not by the idea, but by her instant reaction. Despite everything that had happened, she got a spark of anxiety at the idea of actually destroying the drawings. Stupid. She glanced at the wall clock. “I better get back to work.” She reached over and squeezed Roland’s arm. “Leverage. Now I have leverage.”

  Hope was a powerful motivator. Her mood buoyant with the possibility that Adam could be dealt with so easily, Maya burned through her pile of work like a wildfire. Proof that she was at the top of her game, Niles stopped by to thank her for her outstanding effort on the Calcutta Paper project.

  She was tapping her pen on the desk to the beat of the uncoordinated drummer in her head when the phone rang. “Good morning. This is Maya.”

  “You know Benjamin was working with me the night a fire broke out in your studio,” said Adam.

  Driven by an instant rush of adrenaline, her heart started racing and the blood pounded in her head. “I know,” she said, hoping her voice sounded even, in control. “He told me everything.”

  “And you still let him in your bed. You’re a bigger sap than he is.”

  “Yeah,” she said, “I trusted you. I thought you were the good guy.”

  He laughed. “You were wrong, but that doesn’t absolve you of our agreement. You still owe me more associates.”

  The receiver in her right hand, Maya lifted her left, noting it trembled. “No. It’s over. Leave me alone. Leave Benjamin alone.”

  “‘Leave Benjamin alone’?” He laughed and Maya realized she’d never heard laughter that icy. “Benjamin’s days on Earth are numbered.”

  “The only person going to EverVerse is you,” Maya said before thinking. “I could destroy your drawings at any time.”

  “That would be foolish,” he said. “Do you really think I haven’t anticipated you threatening me with Fading?”

  Maya didn’t respond.

  “If I happen to disappear, I’ve made arrangements. Guess who’s part of those arrangements?” He chuckled. “You and your family.”

  “You can’t—”

  “I can do all sorts of things, Maya, because I know all kinds of things. For example, did you know that your brother Orson has innate magical power?”

  “Orson? No.”

  “He’s small potatoes compared to you, but he has enough power to interest the Holders.” Adam paused, the silence full with his smug pleasure. “If I disappear, one of my associates will send a letter to the Holders, telling them about your brother and you. Your brother has a son, doesn’t he? I wonder if the kid has any power?”

  Maya gulped, thinking of her uncle Andrew and then her brother and her nephew. Would Orson be taken just like her uncle? This was America. That kind of thing can’t happen here.

  And a few days ago I thought comic book characters couldn’t come to life.

  Her mind suddenly felt detached, thoughts moving thick and slow, Adam’s threat having killed her earlier euphoria. She imagined Thanksgiving dinner without Orson, his son Jake and his girlfriend Karen. I wouldn’t be there either, she realized. I can’t do that to Mom and Dad.

  “I’ll give you a sample of what I can do if you don’t finish the work I assigned you.” Adam’s voice held no magic for her anymore.

  “Leave me alone,” she said because she didn’t have the heart to argue with him. The hand holding the phone dropped slack away from her ear, and almost as an afterthought, she hung up.

  She was sluggishly moving a block of text around on the screen, not really seeing the letters or layout, when the phone rang again. How much time had passed since Adam’s call? Ten minutes? An hour?

  “You sound strange. Are you all right?” said Benjamin.

  Her knight in shining armor, except Maya wanted to come to his rescue. But she was no great magician, just a woman who had to crumple little bits of paper to make the simplest spells work.

  “Maya? Are you there?”

  She rubbed her eyes and found they were wet. Ripping a couple of tissues from the box—and feeling her magic shiver at the sound—she dabbed at her eyes. “I’m here.”

  “I just called to ask you to lunch.”

  “That would be great, Benjamin.”

  “Benjamin’s days on Earth are numbered.”

  “Benjamin?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Do you still want to go to EverVerse?” The second the words left her mouth she wanted to snatch them back, to hide in the bliss of ignorance. But she had to know.

  His silence nearly broke her heart. In the stillness of his pause, she tried to cover her emotions with cold reason. She’d only know him a few days, not long enough to get this attached. What did she even know about him?

  You know he’s kind, her heart argued. The kind of guy who’d always help a friend. His ambitions probably weren’t loftier than taking care of the people in his life. He was a lot like her dad in that way.

  “I don’t want to leave you, Maya,” he said just as the silence threatened to break her. “But I’m afraid, afraid for you. Adam’s not stupid. He’s probably already figured out how I feel about you. If I don’t cooperate, don’t Fade and take his damned drawing, I’m afraid he’ll do something.”

  “There must be a way around this. Maybe if you could get hold of that book Adam has. Steal it.”

  “I’ve tried, Maya. I turned his place upside down. I don’t know where he’s keeping it.”

  Maya remembered the photocopied sheets in her studio. “We need that book.” Before she could say more, the red light on her phone began to flash. She wanted to ignore it, but considering her erratic work ethic lately, she couldn’t afford to start snubbing clients. “Could you hold on for just a sec? I’ve got another call.”

  “Maya, what are you doing for lunch?” said Roland when she switched to the other call.

  “Benjamin—”

  “Not who,” he interrupted, laughing, “what?” He sounded downright giddy. “If you two can keep your clothes on for a few minutes, I have something to show both of you.”

  “What’s the big surprise?” said Maya. She and Benjamin stood in the doorway to Roland’s cubicle.

  Roland took a jacket off his coat rack, brushed it off and slipped it on. “Remember how I went to the library to look up—” he lowered his voice “—stuff about Ben and magic?”

  “Yeah,” said Maya.

  Gesturing that they should follow him, Roland headed for Famtek’s front door. “Well, I didn’t find anything, big surprise. But I asked one of the librarians if she’d ever heard anything about the Formed and EverVerse.”

  “You told the librarian about the Formed?” Benjamin said.

  “I didn’t say it was real,” replied Roland. “I told her it was an old legend I remember from my childhood. Anyway, she’d never heard of it, but she said she’d dig around.” Leaning conspiratorially toward Benjamin, he said, “Librarians love me, even the female ones.”

  Leading them out the door and into the parking lot, Roland headed for a dirty green pickup truck. “Eric’s got clients in town and he needed civilized transportation. So he has the Porsche and I have the Mean Green Filth Machine.”

  “The librarian,” reminded Maya.

  Roland grinned at Benjamin. “Our Maya gets snippy when she’s impatient.” Extracting the keys from his coat pocket, he then opened the truck’s door. Face contorted as though he were sticking his hand in dog poop, he reached behind the seat. “Anyway, the lib
rarian called me today. She found this.” The book that Roland pulled from behind the seat had a tan leather cover.

  “Oh, wow.” Benjamin’s mouth gaped open. “Is that…?”

  Sylvester the Cat had never looked so pleased in those short-lived moments when he caught Tweety as Roland looked now. “Lore of the Formed, Volume Two.” He handed the book to Benjamin.

  “You’re kidding. You found it at the library?” Maya asked.

  “Technically the librarian found it and she got it through an interlibrary loan. Don’t spill coffee on the pages or lose it. I don’t want to lose my library privileges.”

  Benjamin opened the book and started flipping through it. Maya leaned against him, looking at the text. “It’s not in English.”

  “Some of it is,” said Roland. “But it looks like every other page is in some funny language. Doesn’t look like anything I’ve ever seen.”

  “You haven’t,” said Benjamin, not looking up. “It’s Elvish.”

  “I thought you didn’t speak Elvish,” said Maya.

  “Elvish?” Roland asked.

  Benjamin gave his head a tiny shake. “I don’t speak or read it. But I’ve been trying to learn.” Stopping on a page, he pointed out a letter. “This is common Elvish. Humans can’t read or even transcribe formal Elvish. See this letter? I know that’s eloch. And this letter is doyl. There are only twenty letters in the common alphabet, but the rules of pronunciation are more convoluted than English.”

  “Cool,” said Roland. “Elvish.” Roland had moved to Benjamin’s left side and was staring at the book. “Now all we need is an Elvish/English dictionary.”

  “You’re taking all this pretty well, better than Eric,” said Benjamin.

  Roland nodded. “Eric still thinks you’re nuts. He says you’re Ron Howard’s good-looking but insane little brother.”

  “This is weird.” Benjamin flipped through the book, closed it and studied its binding. “I’ve searched before, in libraries, used bookstores, the internet, and never found this. Why now?”