“What could we have in common?” Morgan didn’t bother to conceal her disdain.
“Why, the love of the occult,” the voice said. “In particular the … darker arts.”
“Oh, you do a few parlor tricks?” she sneered.
“You could call them that. You could call what you do parlor tricks as well, however. It’s all just the size and scope of the parlor that makes the difference, don’t you think? Perhaps we can exchange trade secrets.”
“What could you possibly have that I want?” The old woman rose and stalked over to stand over the speaker in the hotel telephone. She wasn’t getting younger anymore. Jason had noticed that in the last two weeks or so. Her hair hadn’t darkened further. No more smoothing of wrinkles. She’d gotten all the power the Sword could give her. Of course, it meant she would live for many years now. Jason would never be free of her, except in death.
“Well, for starters, you must want to know how I keep finding your number, no matter how many times your minions change it.”
The old woman cast a steely look at Hardwick. “So you’re a hacker, so what?”
“Oh, dear me, no,” the voice chortled. “Nothing so mundane as that. But perhaps you’d rather know how I keep an unlimited supply of gold flowing into my coffers.”
“Day trading?” The old woman’s frown said she’d had enough of this. But her eyes sparked with greed. She did want to know. Score one for the guy on the phone.
“An art far older than that.”
“You must be kidding. You’re talking about alchemy,” the old woman snorted.
There was a heavy sigh over the phone. “An art much maligned through the centuries, and yet so very useful.”
The old woman was silent. She was all about power, and one form of power was money. She always said she needed a lot of money for what she wanted to do. Jason knew she was looking for another Adapter like the elder Tremaine. They were great at making money. One reason she hated Tremaine so much. He would have been a valuable add to her stable of powers. Now it was up to Jason to supply her. But she was a greedy bitch. She always wanted more.
“Perhaps we should meet,” the old woman said thoughtfully. “But I wonder. What would you want in return?”
The voice over the speakerphone chuckled. “Why, only to show you what a great partnership we might have.”
“What makes you think I want a partner?”
Again with the chuckle. “I’m sure you don’t like partners.” The voice turned serious. “But I know who you are, Morgan Le Fay, and I know what’s in your bones. You don’t realize it but you need me, and I want to go where you’re going.”
Jason’s eyes widened. That was a first too. How much did this guy know about Morgan, and about the Clan?
The old woman glanced to Hardwick, who hunched over a computer. He looked up and nodded. She turned back to the speakerphone. “I will consider your offer, Mr.…. What was your name again?”
“Pendragon. Magnus Pendragon.”
She sniffed. “Unlikely.”
“As likely as that your name is Morgan Le Fay.” The voice was harder now. Then it softened. “We both have remade ourselves in the image of our dreams, Ms. Le Fay. Now let’s realize those dreams together.”
“I’ll think about it, Mr. Pendragon.”
“You do that. I’ll give you a couple of days.” There was a pause. “After all, I always know where to find you.”
The line went dead. The old woman snapped her attention to Hardwick. “Well?”
“He’s in L.A. Hollywood to be exact.”
The old woman smiled. It wasn’t pretty. “Find out all there is to know about Pendragon. And Jason, get out to Hollywood and collect him for me.” The smile widened. “I think he’s right. We need to meet.”
“Do you think he can really turn iron into gold?” Jason ventured.
“If he can, then he may be allowed to serve me. If he can’t, then he’s no use to me.”
Jason knew what that meant.
*****
Staring down the long table at Kee, Devin had never felt so far away from her. Her hair gleamed in the soft light. She was the only one of her family with light-brown hair, but her eyes were a slightly paler blue than Brian’s and Kemble’s. She was taking turns gazing at her plate as though she could read the future in the swirls of sauce from the chicken, and glancing longingly at the back of the curator’s head as he talked to Drew.
Devin felt as though his lifeline was floating just out of reach in a storm. And it wasn’t just the distance. He was going to lose her. This was the first real sign of it, though he’d known it was coming for a while now.
Maggie caught him staring, and he quickly pretended he was looking into her face instead of mooning over Kee, visible just over her shoulder.
“Not usually that far away at dinner, are you?”
She knew anyway. “I better get used to it.” He realized he’d been cutting his chicken but not eating it. A bunch of really tiny pieces had collected into a pile. “If it’s not him, it’ll be somebody else.” He punched a piece with his fork and shoved it in his mouth. Of course, it was wonderful. It only seemed to taste like sawdust.
When Maggie smiled, Devin knew how Tris had fallen in love with her. “You two are like twins,” she said. “It’s hard when it comes time to let someone else into your private world.”
And wasn’t that just the bitch of it? They were like twins. Brother and sister.
Only he’d started thinking of Kee as much more than a sister months ago. Maybe a year. He didn’t know just when. He’d started noticing her collarbones, for Christ’s sake. And the inside of her elbows. And she had gone from being his childhood best friend to … to what?
To the woman he wanted more than anything.
And that made him a sick bastard. Ask anyone. His gaze strayed to Brian, thinking about all the times Brian had gone steely-eyed as he and Michael talked about bringing to justice those men who acted on the bad thoughts they had about the girls in their family. He started to panic. Breathe through your nose, dickhead.
“You’ll figure it out,” Maggie said. Her voice was calming. But then, that was her power, Calm. She could Calm animal or human practically into a comatose state if she wanted. Strange, but there it was.
“Yeah.” Only he wouldn’t figure it out. Kee had to find the One who had magic DNA, who would be the love of her life. Devin, without a shred of magic in his destiny, could never have her. Plus she’d probably hurl if she sensed how he felt.
He just didn’t know if he could stand to watch her find somebody else. Even seeing her with this curator guy was ripping his heart out. He’d be better off leaving L.A. They’d both be better off. But how could he leave Kee? That might kill him too.
So here he was, in limbo. Waiting for the axe to fall. Knowing he must never tell her how he felt. Knowing his feelings would disgust the family who had brought him back from the brink of grief and welcomed him into their midst. Kee would be horrified. Brian and Brina? They’d think he’d betrayed their trust. He was like the Mummy, wrapped into immobility, his entrails wrenched out, leaving him empty.
Empty? He wished. Then the pain would be over. Right now, that sounded good.
He cleared his throat. At least he could save some face. Might as well start laying the groundwork. “I know you’re right,” he said, pulling his eyes back to Maggie’s face. “There’s this girl in one of my classes. She wants to learn how to surf. Thought I’d give that a whirl.”
“Just the ticket.” Maggie grinned. “Have you asked her out yet?”
“We’re meeting on Saturday at Dockweiler Beach if the weather lets up.” That might not be a lie. Sybil would meet him there, if he asked her. Which he would.
Maggie patted his hand. “Then let’s hope for a break in the weather.”
Devin looked up to see Jane looking strangely at him. Yeah. She probably thought that was a betrayal of Kee. It was. But betrayal was in the air tonight. He’d already
betrayed the family. And Kee? The only question was which of them got to betrayal first.
Who was he kidding? He was never going to ask Sybil Crayton surfing or anywhere else. His gaze strayed back to Kee at the far end of the table. The curator was talking to her now. Did he even appreciate how beautiful, how special Kee was?
Devin saw it all, in that moment. It was like the clocks all stopped. He was never going to get over her. He’d never want anyone else. His life would hold surfing and work—something with the ocean if he was lucky. The family would love him as long as they never knew how he felt about Kee. And that was it. That was all there was in store for him. He’d be there for her, of course. He had to be. He’d be a shoulder to cry on, a protector, a friend. Because he’d never leave whatever corner of her life she let him have.
But it would never be enough.
Would the pain ever dull? No. He’d be like that Cyrano guy in the play the family had seen at the Ahmanson Theatre in the days before the bodyguards. Grateful for Kee and living in hell at the same time, never letting her know it was he who loved her.
More than anything.
CHAPTER THREE
Kee sighed in relief as the door finally shut. They’d watched Christian dash out to his car in the pouring rain. The clot of family was dissolving too. Maggie and Tris headed to their apartment over the garage, collecting Jesse from the Nakamuras along the way. Lanyon had beaten a hasty retreat to the music room upstairs. The sounds of his flute drifted down. He was going through a jazz period. Jean-Pierre Rampal was his current flute god. Her youngest sister, Tammy, was already in bed, or at least in her room texting friends. Devin had disappeared.
“I like him,” her mother said, casting a sly look at Kee.
“I do too,” her father said. “Sensible.” He too looked to Kee.
She threw up her hands. “He’s great. But he seemed more interested in Drew—in spite of the fact that she is married—than in me.”
“So … nothing?” her mother asked.
Kee didn’t even have the energy to roll her eyes. She let the air escape from her lungs. “Nada. Look, I’ve been working with him for three weeks. If there were going to be fireworks, they’d have already happened.” She slumped.
“Now, now.” Her mother put her arm around Kee’s shoulders.
“I know. I just have to wait.”
“And in the meantime, have some fun. I’ll bet he asks you out.”
“Unlikely. And if he did, he’d be getting not only me, but a security detail. Hardly auspicious for romance.”
“I’ll see they’re discreet,” her father said, his voice gruff. “You’ve always been a good girl, Keelan. You deserve to have some fun.”
“I doubt it will come up.” She shook herself. What was she moping around for? She had a great family and her art, such as it was. So what if Mr. Hotshot Curator had been so turned off by being obviously set up with her that he’d spent all night talking to her married sister? She’d endured worse embarrassment. Maybe.
“It will,” her mother said.
Her father smiled. “So be a good girl and encourage him when it does.”
“What I’m going to do now is help Jane with the dishes.” She needed this conversation to end fast.
“I’ll help too,” her mother volunteered.
“Nix, Mother. You and Father need some time to yourselves.” It was good to know her parents loved each other. Had from the moment they met. That made her clench inside. But still. Even now, she could see heat pass between them.
“Come on,” her father said, taking his wife’s hand. “One of our children actually volunteered to do the dishes. Take advantage before she comes to her senses.” He pulled her toward the stairs.
“A bath, I think,” her mother murmured.
Kee watched them go before she turned into the kitchen. Kemble and Drew were whispering together as Drew wrapped up leftovers. Drew had discarded her peep-toe pumps and was standing in her bare feet on the Mexican paver tiles, an apron tied around the despicable black dress. Jane was loading one dishwasher and Michael was washing crystal in the sink. At least it would just be the five of them. That hardly even counted as a crowd at the Breakers.
Drew had apparently heard her father’s advice. She glanced over. “Daddy’s girl getting dating directions?”
“I’m not ‘Daddy’s girl.’ ” Kee gritted her teeth.
“Nonsense.” Drew laughed. “You’ve always been the good one. And Father dotes on you. He does.”
Jeez. Couldn’t she get a break? “So, you’re looking for the Tarot Talismans.” Kee grabbed a stack of dishes. “Does Father know?”
Kemble and Drew looked up in surprise. “Of course he knows,” Drew said. Michael went on washing glasses, so he knew too. She couldn’t tell about Jane.
“He gave me the task of finding them while he keeps up our defense and runs the company. We can’t let them fall into Morgan’s hands.” There was a note of pride somewhere under Kemble’s usual formality. Good. He’d been miserable about not having magic for a while. At least Kee was younger than her magic siblings. Plus, having a father who could do everything well was a hard act for an oldest son to follow. Kee could forgive Kemble his arrogance (after she finished being annoyed). He needed it to mask his insecurity and unhappiness.
Jane straightened. “I hope that isn’t dangerous,” she said in her soft way.
“Not at all.” Kemble brushed aside her concern. “Drew’s doing the historical research to see if we can get a picture Michael can use to Find it. I’m combing the digital world for rumors, or thefts, or.…”
“Sounds like a long, hard slog,” Michael said, setting another glass on a dishtowel he’d spread over the handmade counter tiles.
“We may just have caught a break tonight,” Drew said.
“I doubt it,” Kee said in a damping tone.
Kemble frowned at Kee. “Christian told us about a collector of magic artifacts. Magnus Pendragon.”
Michael gave a baritone guffaw. “What a name!”
“It’s not his real name,” Kee said, placing her dishes in the rack of the second dishwasher. A large family needed two of practically everything.
“So what?” Drew waved a hand airily. “He’s a magician, and they all have odd professional names.”
“For magician, read ‘charlatan.’” Kee said. “I think I read somewhere that he does séances for rich widows and stuff. And you know what that means. Capital ‘F’ fake.” How could they think a guy like that could have artifacts from the age of Merlin? Even if he said he did, they’d be forgeries.
“What’s pertinent is that he may have an important collection we need to examine.” Drew looked at Kee severely.
“Does he give tours?” Kee asked. “You can check it out.” Okay, that was too sarcastic.
“He does not give tours. Christian says he’s a recluse,” Kemble explained to Jane.
“And no one quite knows what’s in the collection,” Drew added.
“So what makes you think he has any of the Tarot Talismans?” Michael asked, raising a quizzical eyebrow.
Jane surprised everyone by saying, “Well, you have no reason to think he doesn’t.”
“So you think it’s worth a shot, Jane?” Kemble asked.
Jane put a coffee cup in the upper tray. “You at least have to eliminate it, don’t you?”
That seemed to galvanize Kemble. “That’s it then. Drew, you continue the historical research. A picture of any one of the Talismans can put Michael into play. That’s our best chance. I’ll find out more about Mr. Pendragon. Let’s see what the world knows about him. He’s our long shot.”
Kee was surprised to see Drew nod. “On it.” She wasn’t usually the kind to take direction. In fact, she rose and waved to Michael. “I’ll be in the library.”
Michael nodded, suddenly serious. He was reading Drew’s concern as well. “Go, honey. I’ll finish up here.”
“What happens if Morgan gets the Tal
ismans?” Jane asked.
Kee had heard the story from her father’s own lips a couple of years ago when she made him tell her what really happened when he met their mother. She always could twist him around her finger. She’d never betrayed his confidence to the others.
Kemble’s lips thinned. “Morgan said that with all the Talismans, the right ritual and the right timing, she can increase the Clan’s powers. And her own. I’m afraid the world would be in for a rough time.” Apparently her father had told Kemble as well. His eyes alight with purpose, Kemble made for the stairs.
Kee felt totally useless. They all had magic and she didn’t. Even Kemble, with nary a magic power in sight, had his gift for computers and hacking. “Guess what I’m cut out for in this quest is washing dishes.”
Jane smiled at her. “One thing at a time. Right now, washing dishes is what’s needed.”
They worked in silence. Michael finished and headed up to the library. It was nearly midnight, but Kee wasn’t sleepy. She looked around the kitchen as Jane turned off the lights until only the backlighting under the cabinets remained. Nothing left to do. Jane sat at the bar in the shadows and patted the stool beside her. Kee sat. Jane often liked to sit in shadow. Kee had first noticed it in the garden where Jane always chose a quiet, shady place to sit. But Jane sat in shadow even indoors, so it wasn’t just fear of ruining her peaches-and-cream complexion that kept her out of the sun.
“Family can be overbearing.”
“That’s an understatement,” Kee grumbled. “Mother’s matchmaking would try the patience of a saint.” She sighed. “Which Dev constantly reminds me, I don’t have.”
“She means well. She loves you very much, you know.”
Kee was reminded that Jane’s mother didn’t give two hoots about her and was ashamed. “Yeah. I ought to be grateful. Not that anything will come of it.”
“Oh, he’ll call.”
Kee harrumphed. “He talked to Drew all night.”
“Part resentment at the setup, and part shyness around you.”
“What? He doesn’t seem shy at all.”
“He kept glancing over to you. It was easier for him to talk to Drew because she’s taken. He’ll call.” Jane seemed very sure of herself.
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