"Why do you think he changed his mind about you?"
Zack froze at her question. Before tonight he'd planned on telling her about his worrisome conversation with Jordan and share his concerns about Jordan's fantasies.
Now...he wasn't so certain they were fantasies.
He remained silent so long she popped her head around the corner, her questioning gaze assuring him she wasn't going to let it drop. Deciding a counter-attack was in order, Zack said, “I haven't a clue. Why do you think he changed his mind about me?” There was silence from the kitchen. Finally, he heard her soft footsteps coming in his direction. She leaned against the wall and folded her arms, looking so wary Zack stifled the urge to laugh.
"Maybe...he realized you weren't such a bad guy,” she began slowly, as if she had to force the words out. “What Jordan did was reprehensible. I'm not sure if I would have been as understanding, had I been you."
A warmth bloomed in Zack's heart at her praise. He moved his shoulders in a careless shrug to cover his sappy reaction. “They all paid the price."
"Yes, but in a way that allowed them to make up for what they did. You're a wonderful coach, and I think you deserve a—” She broke off, excitement flaring in her golden eyes. “As a matter of fact, I do have a reward for you! Actually, it's a surprise, but since you deserve a reward, we'll call it one."
Intrigued, Zack watched as she dug something out of her purse. It was a DVD, he saw when she held the object in the air as if it were indeed a trophy. He could think of much more interesting rewards, but he kept them to himself. Earn her trust before you jump her bones, idiot.
"May I use your DVD player?” Before he could answer, she motioned him to the couch. “Come on, have a seat. It's show time."
With an indulgent smile, he moved to the couch, watching as she slipped the DVD into the machine and turned on the TV. He held his breath when she sat next to him. They weren't touching, but her show of trust was more than he could have hoped for.
As the movie started, the lights went out.
"What happened?” Justine asked with a girlish giggle that gladdened Zack's heart.
She was opening up to him, trusting him. He could hardly contain his excitement. Now don't blow it, a wise voice cautioned.
"I don't know.” Zack didn't care, either, but he kept that little secret to himself, as well. But...just to show his sincerity, he reached over and tested the lamp.
It clicked on, its low wattage bathing the room in soft, romantic light. Like the candlelight earlier, was his startled thought. A magical force was definitely at work, but as long as it worked with him, he wasn't fighting it.
The screen on the TV, an older model Zack figured was a cast-off from the landlord, finally came to life. They watched a series of previews, some he recognized, some he didn't, before the movie came on.
The camera panned a dusty field, the clear formation of the sandbags indicating a baseball diamond. Two small figures began to grow bigger and bigger as the camera zoomed slowly in. Sounds became louder. Zack heard the steady clack of the ball hitting a glove just as a monkey dressed in a red and white striped baseball uniform filled the screen. He was pitching to a young boy dressed in a similar uniform.
The monkey's face was white, and when it split into a wide grin, shock slammed into Zack. He leaned forward. “He looks like Dennis!"
Smiling at his reaction, Justine said, “It is Dennis, or Banjo, rather. He's a movie star."
Still finding it incredible, Zack shook his head. His gaze kept returning to the screen. “I find that hard to believe. Dennis was not movie star material. The monkey I knew would destroy a movie set—"
"Ah, I think I can clear that one up.” Justine plucked at the couch. “You see, Dennis came with this little stuffed monkey named Cocoa—"
"The one you gave to that Reno guy?"
She nodded without glancing up. “I found it today. Chris must have overlooked it when Dennis jumped out of the crate."
Zack rubbed his jaw, aching to kiss her senseless. Sitting this near without touching her was a struggle. “I take it Dennis was fond of this Cocoa?” he asked softly.
"Very. He was a twin, and when they separated them, he was heartbroken. Cocoa looks like his twin."
"Poor guy,” Zack muttered.
Her lashes made an upward sweep; her gaze locked onto his with a solemn intensity that stole Zack's breath. He'd never loved her more than he did at that moment.
"I'm sorry for not believing you about Dennis...and Jordan."
With her gazing at him like that, there was only one thing Zack could think of to say. “It's water under the bridge."
It was an effort, but he managed to drag his gaze away from her upturned face and back to the movie. Inside, he was a quivering mass of jubilation. She'd admitted that she'd been wrong about him on two occasions. When he felt secure that he'd earned her trust, he would explain to her what really happened on the cruise.
Now, if he could just keep his hands to himself in the meantime...
Mini peered at her husband through the hole in the nesting box. He stood frozen on the perch, watching the mortals on the couch through a window he'd created in the covering. She knew the signs; rigid spine, beak held high, eyes glistening and fixed. His breast rose and fell in swift, sharp movements.
Reuben was furious, and a furious warlock was a dangerous warlock. She had to do something before he exploded in a riot of colorful feathers and did something he'd regret. After all, she had purposefully misled him.
Gently, she stood, peeking between her legs at the single bird egg she'd been keeping warm for the past eight hours. According to the bird book, it was likely she'd lay three more, one every other day. She ached with all her heart to share the miracle with Reuben, but she didn't think she'd make it through another fainting spell without throttling him. She needed him—conscious and alert.
Plucking feathers systematically from her body, Mini covered the egg with feathers to keep it warm. She would be away no more than a few moments but she didn't want to take any chances.
The idea of using magic to keep the egg warm strangely repulsed her. Reuben wouldn't understand...
With one last, worried glance at the nest, Mini hopped through the larger hole carved into the back of the nesting box and joined her husband on the perch.
Even her unexpected presence failed to distract him from his fury. “Reuben, talk to me,” she whispered, staring at his magnificent profile. “What's going on?"
In a low, vicious voice, he snarled, “The crazy mortal swept our hard work into the bathtub, that's what's wrong. And he broke Bea's anniversary glasses—the ones Jordan ‘borrowed.’ “
"Oh.” Mini didn't know what to say. She had known intuitively that setting the scene would put Justine on alert, possibly send her running, and she had deliberately instructed Reuben to go ahead with his plans.
Her decision to stall Justine and Zack's reunion hadn't been an easy one; but she knew deep down it was the right one. If the mortals resolved their differences now, their assignment would be over. There would be no reason to stay, but Mini knew she couldn't leave the nest, and she feared she would not be able to make Reuben understand why.
Underhanded tactics seemed her only alternative at this point. When the time came, she would confess all and beg Reuben's forgiveness. She would then do everything in her power to make it right between Zack and Justine, even if she had to break the golden rule and use magic on one or both.
Looking at the mortals, Mini said, “They look like they're doing fine, Reuben.” Maybe too fine? she wondered, casting a worried glance at the nesting box.
Reuben snorted. “Look at him—he hasn't made a move in thirty minutes. The man's a fool! I turned out the lights, and what does he do? He turns the lamp on!” With an angry curse, he thrust his wing out. The lamp flickered off.
Mini cocked her head, listening to the conversation that erupted between the couple. If she wasn't careful, Reuben would succeed, an
d they would be free to leave.
"The lamp must have a short,” Zack muttered.
"Yes, it must."
Justine's profile, illuminated by the light of the television, turned in Zack's direction just as Zack looked at her. They froze, staring into each other's eyes.
Mini panicked. With a crafty twitch of her wing—the one her husband couldn't see—she created a diversion.
[Back to Table of Contents]
Chapter Twenty-Five
Zack was going to kiss her, and she was going to let him.
Why shouldn't she? Justine asked herself. Tonight, she'd discovered just how wrong she'd been about Zack. He hadn't pressured her, hadn't pulled the seduction scene she'd fully expected. He wasn't the monster she had thought, and he hadn't lied about Dennis.
Maybe she should trust him...give them another chance.
Her lips parted in anticipation as his mouth edged closer. She inhaled his clean male scent, and the acrid smell of smoke—
Smoke!
Justine's eyes flew open. “Zack, I smell smoke."
"What?” he croaked. Then his eyes flew wide. His nostrils flared. He leaped from the couch just as the smoke alarm began to beep its strident warning.
She followed his headlong rush into the bathroom, coughing as a thick cloud of smoke rushed to meet her. Through the haze, she saw Zack bending over the bathtub, heard him curse as he twisted the faucets.
"Should I call the fire department?” she gasped out.
"No, I think I've got it."
Water sizzled, steam rose to smother the smoke. When the air cleared Justine stepped forward and looked down at the soggy mess in the bathtub. The roses were crushed, but recognizable. A silver dome lay on its side, revealing two charred Cornish hens surrounded by a fancy green garnish. She spotted a broken stem from a wine glass, and the melted remains of a white candle.
Roses, candles...wine glasses. She realized now why he'd shut her out of the apartment when they first arrived. He had apparently decided to change his game plan at the last moment.
Justine clenched her fists. Her heart filled with disappointment.
It had almost worked. She'd been trembling with anticipation, thinking, wanting desperately to believe she was wrong about Zack.
She pivoted and walked from the room.
"Justine, this isn't what you think,” Zack called after her, sounding frustrated and angry.
Of course he was angry—at being discovered as the sly, sneaky heartbreaker that he was!
"I can explain!"
Well now, that would be a new one. Zack explaining instead of disappearing. Justine grabbed her coat from the hall closet, ignoring Zack as he reached her. Her foot bumped against something on the floor. She reached down and grasped the object, sucking in a furious breath.
"Justine, will you at least let me explain?"
"Can you explain this, Zack?” Justine held the packaged condom between her fingers and waved it in front of his face. She threw it at his chest, viewing his startled expression through a blur of tears. “I was beginning to think—it doesn't matter. Please call me a cab."
"I'll take you home."
Stiffly, she said, “That won't be necessary.” The thought of listening to his explanations made her physically ill. “I just want to go home and forget this night ever happened."
His voice was harsh, his fingers none-too-gentle as he grabbed her arm. “Like you forgot about those four nights on the ship?"
The gall of the man! She jerked her arm from his grip, her scornful gaze raking him from head to toe. Inside she was shaking. “Look who's talking! You forgot for an entire year!” She cocked her head. “What did you do, Zack, wake up one morning and think to yourself, ‘Hey, she was a pretty good lay. Maybe I should give her a call?’ “
His mouth tightened. “This—we—are not about sex. The candles, the wine—it wasn't my idea!"
Justine laughed in his face. “Oh, yeah? And just whose idea was it?” She looked around as if searching the room. Her gaze landed on the caged lovebirds, and with unmistakable sarcasm, she drawled, “Was it their idea, Zack? Did Mini and Reuben conjure the wine and the roses?” She snapped her fingers as if a brilliant idea had suddenly occurred to her. “And the lights! I'll bet they turned out the lights, as well."
"As a matter of fact, I think they did."
She was too astonished to respond immediately. Finally, she managed through clenched teeth, “Call me a cab!"
"Gladly!"
"Fine!"
Yanking the door open, Justine stepped into the hall and slammed it shut behind her. Just as she lifted her irate gaze, the door across the hall clicked shut.
Barry. For two cents she'd beat on his door and ask him if he'd like to take a picture! A tad ashamed of her childish thoughts, Justine descended the stairs and waited in the foyer for the cab.
She hoped the driver was a female!
The receptionist who answered the phone at Carl's Grab A Cab responded to Zack's barked order with gum-popping cheerfulness. After Zack replaced the receiver, he moved to the window facing the street and propped a shoulder against the wall.
For ten minutes he stood watch. A light snow had begun to fall, coating the ground with a fine white powder. To occupy himself, Zack followed a few flakes as they spiraled past the window on their lazy way to the ground.
The cab finally arrived, and he watched the dark shadow of Justine's bundled form as she dashed out to meet it. Only then did he allow himself to think.
She believed he was a heartless bastard, a lecher, and now a lunatic. Or perhaps a compulsive liar. One thing was clear; she hadn't believed in his innocence for a second. And why should she? he asked himself. He had yet to tell her the truth about what happened on the ship with the forgetful steward. He clenched his jaw when he recalled how close he'd been.
If the tablecloth hadn't caught on fire...
With a grim smile, Zack flung himself away from the window. It was time to get to the bottom of the recent pranks and obvious meddling, and he had a gut feeling just where he should start. Striding to the bird cage, Zack grasped the top of the cover and pulled it up and away. He cast it carelessly behind him.
The male lovebird—whom Zack remembered Justine calling Reuben—fluttered his wings and squawked at the sudden intrusion. Zack stared at him for a moment, then transferred his wrathful gaze to the nesting box. He could see the white-ringed eye of the female as she gawked at him through a small hole in the box. If it was possible for a bird to look alarmed, this one did.
Folding his arms, Zack demanded, “What the hell is going on? I thought you two were supposed to be on my side. At least, that's what Jordan claims."
Reuben froze on the perch with one wrinkled foot in the air; Zack heard a distinct feminine gasp from inside the nesting box.
"Surprised, Mini? Did you think I wouldn't make the connection after that little stunt?"
Silence.
Zack wasn't deterred. He knew he wasn't crazy, and he wasn't moving until he proved it. “You might as well speak up. I'm not going to leave you alone until I hear an explanation and an apology."
Reuben made a noise that sounded suspiciously like an outraged snort. Zack's eyebrow shot upward at the sound. Perhaps he was finally getting somewhere, which was a good thing, because he was beginning to feel very foolish.
Deliberately taunting, he focused on Reuben as he asked, “You don't think you owe me an apology? You and your chick not only wrecked my date, you've ruined my chances with Jus—"
"Why, you insufferable mortal!” Reuben screeched at him, his feathers bristling ominously. “We didn't ruin your chances, you blundering dimwit! You did that when you destroyed our hard work."
Zack gaped at the talking bird. He shouldn't have been surprised—he had suspected they weren't ordinary birds, hadn't he? After the bizarre happenings he'd witnessed tonight he had little choice but to believe.
But the reality far suppressed his imaginings. Reuben's strident
, furious voice was definitely not the voice of a parroting bird.
"And then you had yet another golden opportunity on the couch, but no, you had to sit there like a scared little boy on his first date!"
The insult registered, but Zack remained speechless. His mouth was dry, his heart was racing, yet his brain was slower to agree with his eyes and his ears.
It was true; the birds were magical.
Darting a glance at the nesting female, he amended his thought. One bird was magical; Mini had yet to speak.
"Why didn't you tell her about the steward?” Reuben demanded, pointing an accusing wing at him. “Are you completely brain-dead?"
A strange blue light shot from his wing to Zack's chest. Startled, Zack staggered backward, brushing at his singed sweater. The attack snapped him out of his daze. “Stop that!"
"Well, he can talk!” Reuben jeered.
Frowning at the hole in his sweater, Zack decided it was time he put an end to the bird's abuse. “Try that again and I'll—"
"No!” Mini shrieked, hopping from the box and skittering along the perch to stand beside Reuben. “Never, ever challenge a warlock!"
"A warlock?” Zack repeated skeptically. He had come to terms with the fact that they were magical, but...warlocks?
"Oh, dear,” Mini said, staring at her mate with a wing clutched to her breast. “It's too late."
Puzzled, Zack followed her gaze. Reuben had straightened majestically on the perch, his wings folded across his breasts, his eyes closed. He seemed to be muttering something beneath his breath. Zack had an ugly suspicion Reuben's chanting and the pitying look Mini shot him were somehow linked.
"You shouldn't have challenged him."
Zack uttered a short laugh. It would be a cold day in hell when he cowered at the sight of a mealy-mouthed little—
"It sounds like a turning spell,” Mini informed him, her look so grave it raised the hair along Zack's arms. “But our powers are diminished because we're birds, so it's possible it won't work."
His ears were ringing...and itching. Zack refrained from scratching, fearing what he would find. “Can't you stop him?” he demanded. He clasped his hands together to keep them from his ears.
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