Waiting for Magic (9 page)

“He fell on the track down to the beach….”

Jane looked at him rather severely from under her brows. “He’s like a mountain goat on that track. He’s taken it several times a day for years. And just who would be out surfing in that weather? She says clearly that the man had a surfboard.”

“Devin’s not a man.”

Jane actually threw up her hands. She never did that. “Of course he is, Kemble. He’s twenty-three. And he was out surfing in horrible weather and he could have been
….” She glanced across the living room area to the arch into the kitchen where a shout of laughter sounded. She lowered her voice. “Killed,” she whispered. “Now why do you think he did that?”

“You think this was Devin?” Kemble glanced
at the paper. “Running around naked at night?” But she was right. Who else but Devin would even consider surfing in that weather, with those waves? He frowned. “Devil! That surf was the biggest we’ve had in years. If he’d been killed Mother would have been devastated.” He started for the kitchen. “I’m going to.…”

Jane stopped him with a hand on his arm. “No, no. You can’t. That’s why I came to you instead of your parents.”

He rounded on her. “Well, I can’t just do nothing.”

“I’m not saying you should do nothing.”

“Then what?” Kemble was confused.

Jane visibly composed herself. “I think Devin is upset,” she said carefully. “I … I think you should, you know, be a brother to him right now.”

Kemble drew his brows together. He felt himself on shifting ground. “What does that mean, exactly, to you?”

Jane pursed her lips. “Make time to talk to him. Maybe find something to do together.”

Kemble was lost. “Why? What’s wrong with him? Is he going crazy?”

Jane gave a huge sigh. “He’s upset
because he thinks he’s going to lose Kee as a friend. You know how close they are.”

Ohhhhh. Because of Christian Coombs. “Maggie said he had a date on Saturday himself.”

“I might have known you’d believe that.” Jane looked a little disgusted with him. That didn’t feel good. “Listen, Keelan is starting to date and one day she’ll find the one she’s looking for. And that leaves Devin odd man out. That’s why he made up a date he doesn’t have. He’s always felt like an outsider in this family, so it’s doubly hard.”

“Wait a minute.” Jane wasn’t being fair. “We include him in everything. He is like a brother to us and a son to the Parents. Always has been.”

“Kemble, he doesn’t have magic in his genes.”

There was always that. Kemble could relate. “Some of us aren’t sure we’re all going to get magic.” Kemble felt his throat close.

To his surprise, Jane reached out a delicate hand and squeezed his forearm. “You will,” she said softly. Then her eyes filled and she turned away. “Sorry. It’s just that I understand what it’s like to look at the Tremaine family from the outside in.”

Kemble started to panic. Jane, calm and collected Jane
, couldn’t start crying on him. “You’re part of the family, Jane. As much as Devin.”

Jane dabbed at her eyes and turned around with a smile. “You’ve all been very kind to me over the years.”

“We have not.” No, that wasn’t right. “I mean, it wasn’t kindness. The whole family loves you, not just Drew. I heard Mother and Senior talking when you and Drew were maybe fifteen. They were trying to figure out how to adopt you. But with your mother still living.…”

“Oh, that’s sweet. Of course, I would never have abandoned my mother.” She sounded wistful. “But it’s nice of you to tell me that.”

“Well.” He cleared his throat. “Only right.” He’d better get back to safer ground. “So, I’ll, uh, keep an eye on Devin, and see if I can’t get him to, uh, open up.” He clenched his jaw. “And maybe I better get a ball and chain to keep him in at night.” He forced himself to smile. “Now, how about some coffee?”

CHAPTER FOUR

Jason huddled in a deserted bus stop shelter on Hollywood Boulevard with his cell to his ear as the rain drove against the glass sides and clattered on the metal roof. “It’s Jason,” he heard Hardwick say. He swallowed hard and tried to stop shivering. It was one in the morning. Even the denizens of the Boulevard had packed it in on this dismal night. He noticed that blood was dripping onto the bench from his right arm. There was only one way he could play this and come out whole. He prayed to … well, to whomever there was to pray to, that he could manage the old woman.

“So, you have him?” Her voice crackled with expectation as she got on the line.

“Not exactly.”

“What do you mean, not exactly?”

Uh, oh.
“I can confirm that he’s is the real deal.”

“Define ‘real deal.’
 ” The voice had turned dead, unforgiving.

“He’s got some kind of supernatural something—force, beast? I’m not sure—protecting his house.”

“You couldn’t get through, even Cloaked?”

“
Cloaking was how I got out with my life. I’m heading over to the E.R. to get some repair work.” She’d know he was in bad shape. He never got stitched up. He heard her acknowledgement that he was serious in her silence.

“You think he’s got the gene?” she asked after a moment.

“I don’t know,” he admitted reluctantly. “I’m not sure if it’s a power, or if he’s just called up something from the abyss with some spells. He’s got a collection of all these old books and shit up there. At least that’s what his cook says. She thinks he practices Old Magic.”

“Hardwick says he’s Golden Dawn,” the old woman mused. “A Magister. He must have studied the texts. He could have used a demon to protect the place.”

“He sure used something.”

“Do you think he knows you were there?”

“Yeah.” Might as well admit it. Jason would never forget the still figure silhouetted against that lighted upstairs window, watching as Jason had fought shadows that ripped and tore at him. He had been Cloaked, invisible. But Pendragon had known he was there, Jason would swear it. And the magician had been enjoying the mayhem and bloodshed.

“Get treatment,” she said. “And get a hotel room. Fly back when you’re ready.”

That was as much forgiveness as he was likely to get. He was grateful for that much.

*****

Kee threw her caution-sign-yellow Prada shoulder bag over the office chair. Kemble was seated at his computer, but at her entrance, he swiveled, a concerned look on his face. “So how did it go?”

“It was Starbucks, not the prom.” She flung herself into a visitor’s chair.

“That bad, huh?”

When had Kemble started to get a sensitive side? “I don’t know what was worse, the security detail that hovered in the corner, or the fact that Jane was right. He did call. The cover was that he wanted me to organize the volunteers.”

“So, uh, you got a promotion? That’s good at least.”

Kee sighed. “Yeah.” Christian had been very solicitous. They
had talked business, haltingly. But there had been an undertone. He’d suggested dinner. Painful. Because nice as he was, she just couldn’t bear thinking about having “dates” with a full security detail when she wasn’t really interested. So she had said she couldn’t. Why wasn’t she interested in a cultured and handsome man? But there just wasn’t any spark there. “Father will be disappointed.”

“Don’t worry about him.” Kemble fumbled with some papers, looking uncomfortable. “You’ll still be Daddy’s girl.”

“Not you too. I don’t
want
to be Daddy’s girl. I don’t even want to be a good girl.”

Kemble gave a hesitant smile. “But you always are. Even now you’re worried about disappointing him.” He shrugged. “But if you don’t like Christian, you don’t like him.”

“I like him,” Kee protested. “Just not like … that.”

“Give it another try,” Kemble suggested. “You might just have some fun. So what if he’s not the One and only?”

Kee made a face. “Okay.” Maybe. End of subject. She looked out at the rain pounding against the French doors. “It never rains this much in November.”

Kemble looked sort of relieved she’d closed the subject. “We’ve got an El
Niño going this year. California’s in for a wild ride.”

“That’s the warming of the ocean thing?”

“Yes, at the equator. Good for the drought if we can get enough into the snowpack.”

“All this rain is probably upping the suicide rate, too,” she said, her mouth wry. “It’s sure depressing me.”

That got a grin out of him. Her oldest brother wasn’t as serious as he made out. “Hope you’re not contemplating anything like that. Christian would have to find someone else to supervise the volunteers.” He paused and examined her face. “If he’s made you unhappy enough to consider suicide, I’d be glad ruin his credit for you.”

“No deal. He’s a nice guy.” But she’d bet her oldest brother was more than a match for Christian Coombs, for all her boss’s easy sophistication. “I’m not
even sure why you’re offering. If I commit suicide I won’t be around to appreciate his suffering.”

“That’s why I’m telling you now.”

She suppressed a grin. “How’s the research coming?”

Kemble turned serious. “We’ve been at this for nearly two weeks and Drew’s still getting nowhere. Chalices all seem to belong to the Church with no clear line to Merlin. Lots of references to wands, even back to early civilization. But no physical survivors she can find before about 1800, unless you count scepters, which
could
be like wands, so she’s concentrating on those. And we have no idea what a pentacle really is. They’re portrayed on the tarot cards as coins with a five-pointed star on them. But we can’t find any reference to coins like that. Drew says the version of the tarot deck with coins is pretty recent anyway.”

“Oh. So how are you doing on Pendragon?”

Kemble swiveled to his computer and just contemplated it for a moment. “He’s a bit of a conundrum. I couldn’t find a picture. There are references to him as early as 1920. So, either he’s one hundred twenty years old and about to kick the bucket, or they refer to his father. Magicians do sometimes bequeath their best tricks and their names to their progeny. His father was a member of the Golden Dawn back in the day, which explains a lot.” Kemble froze then peered out into the corridor. “Oh, hi, Devin,” he said, looking a little uncomfortable.

Kee tried to swallow. She didn’t turn. How long had he been standing there? Had he heard her agreeing to go out with Christian? If he asked again.

“Drew sends a message.” Devin’s deep voice was flat. “She wants to see you later.”

“She, uh, seem excited?” Kemble asked, hopeful.

“No. Her exact message to you was, ‘Tag, you’re it. See me later.’ ” Devin turned to go.

“No, no, don’t go,” Kemble said, standing suddenly. He pulled Devin into the room with one arm. “You’re just what we need.”

Devin looked acutely uncomfortable as he lowered himself gingerly into another of the chairs. He wore a hooded sweatshirt with his jeans as a nod to the season. Actually Kee was surprised he wasn’t wearing shorts. He usually wore them all year long. The scrapes on his face and knuckles seemed to be healing. He was not looking at her. Carefully not looking at her. “I’m no use on the hunt for the Talismans.”

Kee thought Kemble was going to jump out of his skin. He glared at Kee.

“Don’t blame Kee,” Devin said. “She didn’t betray your secret. I heard you talking to Museum Guy the other night. It was obvious you were going after the Talismans and he seemed to think that Pendragon guy might have them.”

“Or at the least, he might be able to help,” Kee corrected, clearing her throat. There, she’d managed to talk normally with Devin in the room. It would all be easier now.