Waiting for Magic (17 page)

“You mean
.…
”

“They thought he had Talismans.” The old woman paced in front of the lighted display of the Sword. “I think I’m suddenly willing to see Mr. Pendragon. We may have misjudged him.”

Jason was shaken. “Is he magic? You want him for the Clan?”

“That I don’t know. Perhaps Hardwick’s research has been inadequate. He could be more than just a Magister of the Golden Dawn. Maybe he has the gene. Or maybe he doesn’t.” She rubbed her hands together convulsively. “Pendragon wants a partnership. Obviously out of the question. But if he has a Talisman, I want it.” She paused, chewing her lip. “Did Hardwick say that Pendragon’s father was also a magician and had the same name?”

“Uh, yeah. I think so.” Where was she going with this?

She sucked in a breath. “He does have a Talisman,” she whispered.

“How … how do you know?” Jason wasn’t following her at all.

“That wasn’t his father.” The venom in her voice was startling, though Jason had heard it before. During times he didn’t want to think about anymore. “He’s not aging. The power of the Talisman is keeping him young.”

“Ahh.” She’d think Pendragon was stealing the youth she was so desperate to regain.

Jason flipped open his phone but before he could dial, the hotel suite phone rang.

They both knew who it would be.

Jason picked up the receiver. He didn’t bother to ask how Pendragon got through when the hotel had a block on the room extension. And he knew the guy could have called on their private line, no matter how many times they changed the number. “Yeah?” He punched speaker.

“Did you get what you wanted?” the voice asked.

“Yes,” the old woman said, stalking over to the large mahogany desk on which the phone sat so she could be heard clearly.

“Excellent,” Pendragon said. “Though such a shame in a way. Lovely people, especially the two young ones, beautiful, nubile flowers just ripe for the plucking.”

“Cut the poetry, Pendragon.” There was steel in the old woman’s voice.

A dramatic sigh drifted out of the speaker. “So you don’t want to know what tricks I have up my sleeve?”

“Oh, I want to talk to you,” the old woman said grimly. “Let’s discuss where and when.”

“I’m perfectly willing to come to you.”

Jason bet he was.

“I think I’d like to see your famous collection,” the old woman said.

“It seems to be very popular lately.”

“Which is what I’d like to discuss.”

*****

The hike into downtown passed in a daze. It turned out the bridge was Seventh Street. They’d floated farther than Devin thought. It was still twenty freezing and sodden blocks out of the warehouse district to Main Street. The warm glow from the water hadn’t lasted long. Devin was practically carrying Kee, who was barefoot by this time. He wouldn’t let Kemble spell him, though feeling her against his body was torture. She needed his warmth, what there was of it. They finally flagged down a lone cab, probably coming down from late revelry in Chinatown. Devin still wasn’t sure why the cab stopped for such a disreputable lot. Maybe he was a closet humanitarian. He’d be the only cabdriver in the world that was. They piled into the warm interior and collapsed on the back seat because the shotgun seat (as Maggie called it) was filled with half-empty cartons of Chinese food. Kee was squished up against Devin on one side. The touching just couldn’t be helped. He only hoped he was too tired to react much. The electric feeling against his hip and shoulder told him he hoped in vain.

The cabby was Russian by his accent. He nearly ordered them out when Kemble told him to take them to Palos Verdes. But Kemble extracted his black Amex card from a squishy leather wallet and the cabby’s protests ceased abruptly. He might not speak great English but he spoke Centurion
card. Kemble asked him to turn up the heater, and soon the interior of the cab felt like you could roast chestnuts in it, like the family did every Christmas in the fireplace.

Devin held himself very still as Kee collapsed against him, shivering. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” she murmured, burrowing into his chest. “Just tired.”

She was already asleep. Tentatively, he put his arm around her shoulders. All his resistance to hugging welled up. It wasn’t the physical intimacy so much as the fact that it was a symbol of caring, he realized. Because when you cared about someone enough to hug them, they could hurt you more when they went away. Like his parents had. It occurred to him that he’d always blamed them for getting killed in that crash. They’d gone away and left him alone.

Kee was going to go away too. No question about that. At least in the way that counted. He settled his arm more securely around her. The hum of contact rolled through him, almost indistinguishable from pain. But soon he wouldn’t feel anything of her. So he embraced this electric energy, a penance and a reward wrapped into one.

She obviously didn’t feel what he did. She was dead to the world, her head laid against his shoulder. God, he was getting an
other erection. He shifted, surreptitiously adjusting himself, and tried to breathe in a steady in/out rhythm. He had to get his balance here. He watched the rain come down in waves over the cab’s windshield, the water sluicing away as the wipers flashed back and forth on high. Better. Now he could think. But what he thought wasn’t calm and comfortable. There was only one answer to what had happened tonight. Devin still wasn’t sure he believed it.

He had a power. He’d had it since that night he surfed the big waves that should have killed him. All his life he’d felt like an outsider in the Tremaine household, and here, adopted orphan or not, he had the gene. When Brina first brought him home he would have killed to know that. He stared down at Kee, so beautiful in spite of the smears of mud on her pale cheeks, so fragile in his arms. He wanted to cry. That he had power over water would have made him deliriously happy if the Tremaines hadn’t adopted him. His love for Kee had raised it, even though it hadn’t been a lightning bolt at first sight. How could it be? They were nine
when they met. True love—a lifetime of it—should now be his, though. Isn’t that what everyone wanted for themselves?

But the Tremaines
had
adopted him. It didn’t matter what was in his blood. He and Kee were brother and sister, because that’s the way they’d lived together. Anybody in the world would agree with that. What would his very kind adoptive parents say if they knew he lusted after his sister? There was a word for that. A very ugly word that made his love story into an epic tragedy, or a farce. He felt heavy, waterlogged. He must never let them know it was Kee who raised his power. Maybe they didn’t have to know he even had one. Especially Kee.

He glanced to Kemble, who stared out at the downtown streets, empty because of the rain and the late hour. Stores in the Latino section had pulled their metal gates shut. Gutters overflowed. The cab hydroplaned through intersections, no matter how slowly the cabb
y drove.

“So who is she?” Kemble glanced to the cabby, who was focused on navigating through the sheeting rain. “The girl you’ve been teaching to surf?” Kemble gave Devin a tired grin with more than a little sadness in it. “You were more a part of the family than we knew.”

“I guess.”

“You guess?” Kemble snorted. “This is great.” He sounded like he was trying to convince himself. Yet another younger Tremaine coming into a magic power before the eldest son must really hurt. “Nearly balances out the fact that we almost got killed by one of the Clan tonight.”

Devin had been too busy to think about that, but of course a guy who could shove their car into the river from across a parking lot had to have a power.

“The Parents will be ecstatic for you.” Kemble gave another sigh. “Which we’re going to need as a distraction. Because I’ll have to confess I gave security the slip and tried to retrieve a Talisman without telling Senior.”

“Uh, I’d like to keep the water thing secret.” Devin’s brain was kicking into overdrive. The questions that would ensue would be unbearable. They’d all start prying into who raised his power and Brina would invite Sybil over to dinner and then they’d find out he’d never even asked her out and they’d hound him. That was the
best
possible outcome. The worst was that they’d know it wasn’t her at all and then they might realize….

Kemble’s astonished expression said he didn’t agree.

“You know how they’d be,” Devin pleaded. “What if they scare her off? I need time.”

He saw understanding fill Kemble’s eyes, even in the dim light of the cab. Kemble nodded slowly. “Yeah. Well. I do know how they can be.” He took a deep breath. “I’ll get us back in the way we came in. Maybe we’ll think of a way to explain the missing SUV.”

“Sorry.” Devin knew he was letting Kemble down.

Kemble turned to stare out the window again, though it was steaming up and he really couldn’t see very much. Devin thought they were on an entrance ramp onto the 110 Freeway
south. Finally. “What was I thinking?” Kemble muttered. “Taking you two with me, out on our own without protection? What if you’d been killed?”

“We weren’t. And I know why you did it.”

Kemble squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed his hand over his jaw.

Devin couldn’t help but try to solace Kemble’s pain. “Look. He told you to find Talismans. You just did what he asked. Tried to, anyway.”

“He told me to leave defense to him. I made it kind of hard for him to defend us, huh? And for what?” Kemble turned his head away again. His voice was a husky growl. “Pendragon doesn’t have a Talisman. His security was shit. If he had something as precious as a Talisman, he’d have that place locked down tighter than a drum.”

Devin was about to say something, but he bit his tongue. He needed more information. But he wasn’t sure they hadn’t found a Talisman. And that would be very bad news.

CHAPTER EIGHT

When they got to the front gate, Kemble reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone, ready to activate the changes in the security system they’d need to get back in without detection. He punched the button on the front to bring up a screen. But Devin could see from here that the thing was dead as a doornail. Probably had something to do with being submerged in muddy water tonight. So much for getting back in without anyone knowing.

Kemble stared at it a minute. The look on his face was stony. Devin didn’t dare say a word. “Check your watch,” he said.

Damn.
He could see from here the crystal was cracked. The pictures he’d taken with the little camera wouldn’t be there. But he dutifully raised his wrist from Kee’s shoulder. Kemble just sighed. Then he got out of the cab and hunched his shoulder against the downpour. He punched in the code and put his thumb to the identity pad. Devin had never seen someone so defeated looking. The gate didn’t swing in. Kemble spoke into the speaker. Devin couldn’t hear what he was saying. The security guys would be shocked to learn that Kemble was out wanting in. Kee stirred in Devin’s arms, gave a little gasp and sat up. He didn’t miss the fact that she scooted away from him as far as she could. He removed his arm carefully from around her shoulders. The possibility that she knew how he felt about her made him swallow, hard. Since there seemed to be a giant lump in his throat, he had to do it again, twice.

“Are we here?” Kee asked. He felt like she was covering up some distaste.

“Yeah. And Kemble’s cell is dead, so he had to ring the doorbell, so to speak. Time to face the music.”

Kee sighed. “Poor Kemble. He’ll try to take all the blame himself.”

“Which will be easy, because Brian will blame it all on him.”

Kee nodded. She slid a look over to Devin. “Thanks for pulling me out.”

Devin couldn’t help swallowing again. “What do you remember?”

“I think I pretty much blacked out after the car filled up with water.”