Spellcrossed (10 page)

I smiled up into his worried face and nodded.

“Good! Now. We will go up to the house and toast our accomplishments.”

I
T WAS A RELIEF TO LET THE BUSINESS of theatre slide and just enjoy the company of good friends. Unfortunately, the opening night high wore off in a hurry. Catherine and Javier made their exit only a half hour after their entrance. I followed them to the front door, my yawns almost as huge as Catherine’s.

As I reached for the switch to turn on the porch lantern, Javier said, “Save the electricity. We don’t need it.” He grinned. “Faery eyesight,” he added in a whisper. “Great for running around backstage during a blackout. And for late-night strolls.”

Hand in hand, they started down the hill. After they disappeared into the darkness, I leaned on the railing to stare up at the sky. There was no moon, just a million stars splashed across the heavens. I closed my eyes, breathing in the pine-scented air. Then opened them again when I heard the faint sound of Catherine’s laughter. The lights in the parking lot provided just enough illumination to show her running down the walkway by the barn with Javier in pursuit. Then they both vanished into the shadows. A moment later, a light flicked on in the Mill.

Married more than two years and they still acted like newlyweds. I suppressed an envious sigh and turned to go inside.

A faint flash made me glance back. At first, I thought it must be another lamp going on in the Mill. But when I walked to the end of the porch and peered into the darkness, I realized the narrow sliver of light was coming from the theatre.

It was the ghost light, shining through the open stage door.

A shadowy form darted through the light and into the theatre. Then the door closed.

Maybe Catherine or Javier had gone back for something. But if I could see the ghost light shining through the stage door, I would have noticed the front door of the Mill opening.

There was only one explanation: someone was breaking into my goddamn theatre on my goddamn opening night.

I flung open the screen door and strode into the foyer, narrowly avoiding a collision with Reinhard who was emerging from the powder room. “Someone’s broken into the theatre,” I told him. Then I hurried into the library. With shaking fingers, I dialed 911.

“Hillandale Police Department,” a woman’s voice said.

“Becky?”

“No, it’s April. Becky was feeling a little under the weather so I—”

“April, it’s Maggie Graham. At the Cross—”

“Oh, hi, Maggie! Heard the show was a big hit. Burt and I are bringing the kids Saturday.”

Only in Dale can you call 911 for a cozy chat.

“That’s great, April. But we have a problem. There’s an intruder in the theatre.”

“An intruder?”

“Or intruders.”

“In the theatre?”

“I saw someone breaking in through the stage door.” I glanced up as Reinhard walked in. “It’s okay,” I whispered. “I’m talking to the police now.”

“The police!”

I waved my hand to shush him. “What was that, April?”

“I asked if you were in the theatre now.”

“No, I’m at Janet’s. I spotted the…uh…perpetrator from the porch.”

“Maggie…” Reinhard began.

“Sure it wasn’t one of the staff?”

“The staff’s at Janet’s, too.”

April chuckled. “You theatre folk sure keep late hours.”

“Maggie, give me the phone.”

“Wait! No, not you, April. Look, there was something distinctly furtive about the perpetrator’s manner.”

“Furtive, huh.”

“Nobody has keys to the theatre except the staff. And Reinhard always locks up…you locked up, right?”

Instead of answering, Reinhard wrested the phone from my grip. “Hello? This is Reinhard—yes…yes, we were very pleased with the show. April, I think Maggie might be overreacting.”

“I am
not
overreacting!”

“I am sure it was only Catherine or Javier. They left a few minutes ago.”

“It wasn’t—”

“Yes, she
is
from New York.”

“That has nothing to do with it!”

“I will go to the theatre now. But I am certain there is nothing to worry about.”

“Reinhard, would you please—?”

“And I shall look forward to seeing you then, too, April. Good night.”

“Are you crazy?” I demanded as he hung up the phone.

“Maggie. We do not call the police. Ever.”

“This isn’t some Fae thing,” I whispered, conscious that Bernie was in the house. “This is a burglar!”

“I very much doubt it. Please calm down. And let me handle this my way.”

Still protesting, I followed him to the living room. In a few terse sentences, he told the rest of the staff what had happened. Hal and Mei-Yin and Bernie all began talking at once. Janet and Alex exchanged glances.

“It was probably Javier,” Reinhard said. “Or a youngster who wanted to poke around backstage. I will go down now and find out.”

“I’m coming with you.”

“No, Maggie. You are not.”

“Let her go,” Janet said.

Alex’s head jerked toward her.

“Short of tying her up, she won’t stay here.” Janet shoved herself off the sofa. “Let’s just find out what’s going on.”

Bernie pleaded his hip and stayed behind. Mei-Yin pleaded four glasses of whisky and stayed with him. The rest of us marched off.

All the way down the hill, I tried to make sense of Reinhard’s behavior. I knew the staff had an aversion to dealing with the authorities, but surely, in a case like this it was warranted. What disturbed me most were the looks that had passed between Reinhard and Alex and Janet—almost like they knew something was up.

Maybe it was some kind of practical joke. Catherine and Javier had been sent ahead to oversee the final preparations. And when I walked in, everybody would shout, “Surprise!” But the last thing I needed after the past few days was yet another surprise.

By the time we reached the parking lot, I was beginning to wonder if I’d imagined the whole thing. I almost hoped there
was
a burglar. If we walked in on Catherine and Javier having a quickie on one of the orphans’ beds, I’d feel like an idiot.

Reinhard held up his hand. “Lee and Alex and I will go in. The rest of you wait outside.”

“Why do I always have to wait with the women?” Hal complained.

Before anyone could answer, the wrought iron lamps along the walkway flared to life. For a moment, we just stood there, gaping. Then Janet gripped my hand and Reinhard flung his arm around my waist. I looked from one to the other, suddenly scared. Whatever this was, it wasn’t a practical joke.

As they guided me toward the nearest picnic bench, I heard a protesting creak of hinges. My head jerked toward the stage door. Hal gasped. Alex whispered, “It’s okay, honey.”

No sneaky little sliver of light this time, but a big, bold rectangle that cut a shining swath across the brick walkway.

A figure stepped out of the shadows. With the light behind him, I could make out little more than his dark pants and pale shirt and the gleam of glossy, black hair.

A shiver crawled up my spine. Cold sweat broke out under my arms.

Janet’s fingers closed convulsively around mine. Reinhard squeezed my waist. Alex gripped both shoulders. Calming energy flowed through me, but it wasn’t enough. Not by a long shot.

Slowly, he walked toward us. The light from the lampposts confirmed what I already knew but still couldn’t believe. Then he hesitated, his gaze fixed on me, a frown carving two furrows between his brows.

“Don’t be afraid,” Rowan Mackenzie said. “It’s only me.”

T
HE WORLD HASN’T STOPPED REVOLVING. You haven’t stopped breathing. You haven’t entered
The Twilight Zone.
Those are Janet’s fingernails digging into your hand. That’s Hal whispering, “Oh, my God, oh, my God.” This must be real.
He
must be real.

Rowan is here. He’s here!

His hair’s longer. He looks so tired. And his clothes look like he’s slept in them. Has he been wearing the same clothes all this time? Didn’t the goddamn faeries give him some goddamn clothes?

Focus, Maggie. Janet’s saying something. He’s saying something. Apologizing for causing an uproar.

I’m moving. Good. But I’m going the wrong way. Why am I—?

Something hard. Picnic bench. Okay. Sitting works.

Why is he just standing there? Hovering on the walkway like it’s some kind of DMZ? The middle ground between light and shadow, between—

Forget the fucking
Twilight Zone!
Focus. Breathe.

In. Out.
Slow. Deep.

Calm…

Janet. She’s keeping me calm. And Reinhard and Alex. I can’t feel Rowan at all. Why can’t I feel him?

Get a grip. Everyone’s staring at you. Everyone’s waiting for you to say something.

Say something!

“Hi.”

“Hi?” You’ve thought about him every day since he left and the best you can come up with is “Hi?”

Rowan smiled, but the lines remained etched between his brows. “I know this must be a shock for all of you, but I’d like to speak with Maggie. In private.”

“No,” I whispered. When I saw Rowan’s shock, I realized he’d misunderstood me. “They knew. They had to. They always know when you’re nearby.” Anger surged, a welcome relief from the numbness that had enveloped me. Dragging my gaze from Rowan, I turned to Janet.

“I…suspected,” she said.

“Why didn’t you—?”

“Because you had opening night to deal with! And I wasn’t sure. Even after you told us someone was breaking into the theatre.”

Rowan frowned. “I didn’t break in. I used the keys I always kept at the cottage.”

He kept keys at the cottage?

Who cares? Focus!

“So you were the one who helped Chelsea,” I said.

His frown deepened. “Chelsea?”

“No,” Janet said. “Reinhard and I did.”

“Then why did you suspect—?”

“I felt…something…at Midsummer. That was when you crossed over.”

Rowan nodded.

Midsummer? That was yesterday! Why didn’t he come to the theatre then? Why was he sneaking around tonight?

Maybe he didn’t want to see me. Maybe he just came back for a change of clothes. Maybe…

Don’t be stupid, Maggie. Pay attention. Javier’s asking Janet something.

When did Javier show up?

“It didn’t feel like Rowan’s power,” Janet said to Javier. “Just…a Fae presence. And it was gone so quickly,
I couldn’t be sure.” She regarded Rowan thoughtfully. “You learned a few things during your sojourn in Faerie.”

Maybe that was why I still detected no hint of his emotions. He’d always been able to mask his expression; now, he could disguise his power just as easily.

“Pity you couldn’t have timed your entrance a little better,” Janet remarked.

“This wasn’t…I didn’t intend to have this conversation tonight.”

“Then you shouldn’t have been sneaking around the theatre at midnight,” she snapped.

“I wanted to shower! And change. Make myself…presentable.”

Rowan smoothed his wrinkled shirt. His gaze swept over me, from my carefully tousled hair to my carefully painted toenails. It rose more slowly, but stopped short of my eyes. It took me a moment to realize he was staring at the silver chain around my throat.

As always, his sweet smile made my breath catch. His face blurred as I smiled back. Probably the goofy smile that made me look like a pole-axed heifer, but I didn’t care. For the first time, he looked like my Rowan.

“Can we talk, Maggie?”

I nodded. He watched me expectantly. I realized I’d missed my cue. I was supposed to stand up. I made it halfway and sank back down on the bench.

“Maybe this should wait until tomorrow,” Reinhard said.

“I’m fine,” I insisted.

“You can’t even stand up!” Lee said. “If you want to talk, talk here.”

Rowan stiffened. “I played out my farewells in front of an audience. I have no intention of playing out my homecoming in front of one, too.”

“And you shouldn’t have to!” Hal exclaimed. “Neither should Maggie. They just need ten minutes of private time.”

“They need a lot more than ten minutes,” Janet muttered.

“Maybe so,” Alex said, his voice sharp. “But Hal’s right. Let’s all go back to the house.”

“I will wait in the Smokehouse,” Reinhard said. “And escort Maggie back after she and Rowan have finished talking.”

Hal tugged Lee’s arm. When Lee hesitated, I summoned a reassuring smile. His frown deepened. Clearly, I didn’t have a good grip on my inventory of smiles—or much of anything else except Janet’s cold hand.

“I’m okay. Really.”

As okay as anyone could be who had just faced an opening night, a mixed review from her boss, and the return of her long-lost faery lover.

Javier nodded to Rowan and walked back to the Mill, glancing over his shoulder several times as if to assure himself that Rowan hadn’t vanished into thin air. Alex paused to shake Rowan’s hand, but his expression was troubled. Janet just marched off into the darkness.