Absolutely Captivated (32 page)

Travers sighed. He felt
awkward sitting while she stood over him, looking like one of those
mythic amazon women. Or maybe they weren’t mythic, if Zeus ruled
the world (or part of it) and Faeries really did exist. Travers
blinked, not willing to contemplate all the implications of that
particular thought—wishing he had time to sit in a dark room for
maybe—oh, who knew? A year or more—and assimilate all that he had
learned so far.

But he didn’t have that kind of time.
And he was supposed to apprentice magic with a woman who might have
to walk into danger at any moment, a woman he still wanted to kiss
even though he vowed not to, a woman he would make love to if she
only touched his skin again like she had a few minutes
earlier.

He cleared his throat, hoping she
hadn’t noticed all the various emotions he had just run
through—particularly the last one. “You were going to tell me what
you found.”

She nodded, and leaned against the
desk again. Only this time she was facing him. If he were cruder,
or younger, or bolder, he would adjust his chair ever so slightly.
It wouldn’t take much to peer along those thighs, underneath that
skirt—

Travers clenched his fists so hard
that the nails bit into his skin. He had to control his thoughts,
if not for his hormones’ sake, then for the sake of his magic. He
didn’t want to make another English mistake—only this time, with
Zoe.

“You ready for a history lesson?” Zoe
asked.

This time, Travers sighed loudly. All
he’d been getting the last few days were history lessons. And he’d
been a math major. History and fiction had never interested
him.

“Do I have a choice?” he
asked.

“Not if you want to know what’s going
on,” Zoe said.

“I figured as much,” Travers said, and
braced himself. He would need some trick for paying attention,
besides avoiding looking at Zoe’s knees.

To his relief, she went around the
desk and plopped in her chair.

“Let me tell you a true
Faerie tale,” she said, and started to talk.

Kyle sat under one of the big
umbrellas at the water park, feeling nearly naked in his swim
trunks. He was sipping a vanilla milkshake, his feet propped on the
chair beside him, while the Fates were splashing around in one of
the nearby pools.

Through the gate, he could see the
Strip— more cars and people than he wanted to think about—and all
the grand Vegas stuff folks were always talking about: the big
towers, the glass-sided hotels, and casinos, casinos,
casinos.

If he saw another
person carrying one of those plastic jugs of nickels and
thinking,
One more chance—all I need is
one more chance
, he’d knock the jug from
their hands, scream,
One more chance isn’t
going to make you any richer than you already are!
and run away.

He had never realized how badly adults
could delude themselves until he came here.

He had been banned from
the water into the shade of this poolside umbrella because his skin
was turning that lovely shade of red his dad called “lobster.” Kyle
had even bought sunscreen—planning ahead because he knew swimming
was an option. But he couldn’t get anything above an SPF of 30 and
he needed at least 50 to spend a lot of time in the sun.

So the Fates had banished him to the
shade, where he got to watch their matching purses, their towels,
their clothes, and their milkshakes.

Kyle really wanted to get back to the
air-conditioned hotel room, see how Fang was doing, and take a nap.
But he didn’t want to admit the nap thing to anyone. It was just,
after some hours of sightseeing and goofing in the sun, he was
tired.

He was also tired of
being vigilant. The Fates were naïve—it felt like he was
baby-sitting them instead of the other way around. They didn’t even
notice how all the grown-up men in
Star
Trek: The Experience
were hitting on
them.

Clotho got asked out the
most (Kyle was keeping track) but that was probably because she was
blond and looked a lot like Heidi Klum. (So, Kyle assumed, people
were probably mistaking her for the supermodel.) Lachesis and
Atropos tied with the same number of men asking them out—sometimes
the same men, who would go from one beautiful woman to the other
without taking a breath.

Kyle was actually glad to get to the
darkness of the shuttle simulator, and when the ride was over, he
turned down the Fates’ offer to take him to Quark’s Bar and
Restaurant just so he could get them out of the
building.

He hadn’t expected
them to immediately head for the water park. But they’d brought
their giant purses, and one of the Fates had been smart enough to
shove his swimming suit into the bag with theirs. He argued the
whole walk over from the Hilton, where the
Experience
was, to the water park,
but the Fates wouldn’t budge.

They had it in their heads that they
would give him a good time, whether he wanted it or not.

What he really wanted was for those
weird men to stop following him.

Actually, Kyle
wasn’t sure if the weird men were following him or the Fates. At
first, Kyle thought the men were extras at
Star Trek: The Experience
. They
looked like short, thin Vulcans wearing the wrong kind of makeup.
Their skin was darker than Spock’s but not as dark as Tuvok’s or
T’Pol’s. Their eyebrows didn’t slash darkly like a Vulcan’s, but
soared over the eyes like wings.

But the thing that made
these guys the most like Vulcans were their pointed ears. These
things were masterful, even better than the ones on the current
show. They looked real.

In the Hilton, Kyle had
gone from escalator to elevator, trying to see if the guys were
really following (just like detectives did in television chase
scenes) and sure enough, the guys kept turning up—as his dad would
say—like a bad penny.

So Kyle had mentioned this to the
Fates on the way out of the Hilton, suggesting maybe a stop at
their hotel (and thinking hopefully of a nap), when the Fates
actually stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and turned
around.

Kyle had to stop next to them, and
hang there while the Fates looked for the guys—not that they were
hard to miss. These guys kept walking toward the Fates, all
determined, their expressions really serious.

The guys wore black, too,
which had to be really hot on the sidewalk, without any shade at
all. Kyle wasn’t wearing black—his t-shirt and shorts were
appropriate to the weather—and the heat, which he was kinda used to
from L.A., was killing him.

These guys didn’t even
notice.

It took a moment for the Fates to see
the guys, but when they did, all three women giggled.

Giggled!

Like Caitlin always did in math class
when Jason Budregas made faces at her. She would just giggle and
giggle and giggle like she couldn’t stop and finally the teacher
had to separate them.

The Fates giggled, and
blushed, too, and for a minute, Kyle thought they wouldn’t be able
to stop, but they did, told him not to worry (in three different,
yet confusing, ways) and urged him on to the water park.

He checked as they paid on the way in.
The guys didn’t follow. Instead, they kept walking like they
weren’t even interested in the water or the Fates or
anything.

The Fates kinda deflated then, and
Kyle asked them if they knew those guys. And the Fates said no, but
he couldn’t tell if they were lying.

And he never did get close enough to
the guys to see what they were thinking. But Kyle knew if he ever
saw them again, he would try to find out.

He finished his milkshake, sucking the
last bit of vanilla creaminess out of the bottom with his straw,
enjoying the slurpy sound. No one here to tell him to knock it off.
No one to annoy.

And no one to mentally
eavesdrop on, either. All people were thinking about was what a
great day they were having, how nice the sun was, how nice the
water was, and how much they hoped their (kid, mother, grandfather,
best friend) was enjoying the trip.

Kyle burped and reached for Lachesis’
strawberry shake, then changed his mind. He was stuffed, even if he
hadn’t had lunch yet.

He glanced at the water slide, watched
Atropos go down with her hands up and her head back as she laughed
and screamed at the same time. He wanted to go, but he didn’t. He
remembered the last time he’d gotten badly sunburned. Dad had
actually had to take him to the emergency room where they reamed
out Dad, not Kyle, and it hadn’t even been Dad’s fault.

Kyle stretched. Maybe the nearby
vendors would have sunscreen with the right SPF. He stood, wrapped
a towel over his shoulders like a cape, and padded barefoot across
the hot concrete to the nearest shop.

He had some money stuffed in the
pocket of his suit. Too late, he realized he’d left the Fates’
purses behind. He turned around and headed back to the umbrella,
only to see those three guys walking toward it from the opposite
direction.

Kyle felt like he was in one of those
old Western movies, where the good guys and the bad guys face off
in the noon-day sun. Only he’d forgotten to bring his share of the
good guys. There was just him, and these three guys with pointed
ears.

The guys had changed out
of their black leather. They were wearing Speedos, and the suits
looked okay on them, too. Only these guys had tattoos across their
tummies and backs and down their arms, tattoos of things like women
with wings and dragons and others stuff that Kyle had only seen on
fantasy novels.

They also had pierced nipples, which
made Kyle hurt. He clutched the towel even tighter and kept
walking. Given luck, he’d get to the umbrella table at the same
time as the guys.

He opened his mind
as he hurried, hoping to catch their thoughts. But he got the same
old
great sun, great day, great vacation,
wish you were here, hope Mom’s enjoying herself, dang! I stubbed my
toe, oh, I ate too much
and all of
that.

Nothing that three guys with pointed
ears and tattoos would be thinking.

Kyle ran to back to his chair and
slipped into it before the guys arrived. Then he thought sitting
was a really stupid idea because he was at a disadvantage—he
couldn’t move quick and he couldn’t get away. And, not to mention,
his back was to the guys.

He turned around, but the guys were
gone.

Kyle looked for the Fates,
and didn’t see them, either.

Then all three came down
the big water slide, their legs wrapped around each other,
screaming joyfully in three-part harmony.

Kyle sighed and stood. He was going to
have to be the grown-up on this one, and he hated being the
grown-up. If he’d learned anything this morning, that was it. He
wanted someone else to make the decisions.

The Fates surfaced in the
pool, their blond, red, and black hair looking weirdly bright in
the Vegas sun. They waved at Kyle and he beckoned them
forward.

He still couldn’t see the guys
anywhere.

The Fates swam over to him.

“I think we have to go,” Kyle said.
“Those guys are here.”

“Really?” Clotho asked, turning.
“Where?”

Lachesis and Atropos
turned, too, as if they couldn’t contain themselves.

“I’m serious. Those guys are scaring
me,” Kyle said. “They’re stalking us.”

“We’ll be fine,” Lachesis
said, and dunked under the water. Atropos followed. Clotho gave him
a wicked grin and sank beneath the surface, too.

Kyle clenched his fists, feeling as
helpless as he ever had in his life. He wondered if he should send
one of those screaming messages that Zoe taught him about this
morning.

He didn’t know if this was the right
kind of emergency. He sure didn’t want to cry wolf or
anything.

Kyle scanned the entire crowd, turning
round and round and round, looking at faces and ears and Speedos,
wondering if the guys had just vanished.

After a full 360 search, Kyle didn’t
see them. Maybe he was imagining the whole thing. Maybe those guys
weren’t anybody.

Or maybe he was getting a weird kind
of future vision—something that hadn’t happened yet, but
might.

Kyle went back to the shade and
grabbed Atropos’ chocolate shake, which was pretty melted. He
started to drink it as he stared into the pool.

What he would do was simple: if he saw
the guys again, he’d let out one of those mental screams. And then
he’d get the Fates out of here as fast as possible.

He was ready, even if they
weren’t.

The history of Faerie, as
told by Zoe Sinclair, was short, dark, and surprisingly brutal.
Travers found himself slumped in his chair, his hands clasped
behind his head, trying hard not to let the images she gave him
form pictures in his head.