Wilder Mage (24 page)

Tourin waited by his rental, a late-model SUV. He glanced at the house where Raissa stood and then back to Justus and nodded a quick bob at the house. “Nice woman, that mother of yours.”

“Yes, she is.” Justus walked to his car and opened the door.

“There aren’t a lot of folks like her out here.”

Justus didn’t answer. He started his car and prepared to back out.

“Be careful, son,” Tourin said. He bent to slip into the driver’s seat. His shirt collar gapped and a black chain appeared, sliding around his neck, hidden until that moment. Tourin started the engine and drove away without glancing in Justus’s direction.

Justus sat in his car and stared at the departing vehicle, his brows furrowed as the man’s SUV disappeared around the corner. Well, there were other necklaces with black chains in the world. Nothing about the man spoke of magic; the energies surrounding him were of the human kind.

He put the car into gear and backed out of the drive. Time to go to the McIntyres’ for one last meal with them.

The SUV glided to a stop along the side of the road, and the pudgy man let out the breath he felt he had been holding since the young man knocked on the door. No, he wouldn’t let his emotions get away with him, not after meeting the boy. There wasn’t any time for that.

A chill passed over his skin and he touched the black chain with his fingers, letting the links slide through his palm. He shivered as the invisible flow poured over him, something he knew he would never get used to, no matter how many times he used the device. He looked in the rearview mirror, as the reflection seemed to melt and then grow from a short, chubby body to long and lean, with an angular face. The wire rim glasses slipped from his face, and he flipped them into the back seat. He released the chain to scrub one hand through thick gray hair and then turned back to the road and turned the engine key.

He checked the traffic and pulled back onto the highway as he breathed a relieved sigh.
Almost didn’t have enough juice to make it through the meeting,
Tthe gray-haired man thought.

The flutters in his belly didn’t surprise him anymore, but the tremble in his hands still did, and he laughed.

Killing heads of state had less effect on him than this job.

Chapter Eighteen

T
he muggy air of late June was just beginning to ease into the cool evening when Justus pulled into the McIntyres’ drive. He felt a change from hot, moist air to the charged atmosphere of a typical summer shower. Clouds were building in the west, and the forecasters promised a cold front would push through before morning.

War between the earthly elements of Water, Air, and Fire assembled overhead. It sizzled on his fingertips and brushed against his mind. The phantasms, the wild ones not gathered by those of magical talent, boiled for anyone, human or wizard to see.

Voices pulled him into the front room where Maggie and Sable were laughing. Wesley was illustrating a story using hand gestures to aid the telling, punctuating the words with dramatic reenactment. Overly dramatic, Justus thought as he caught Emmett’s eye. The older man was leaning against the doorframe leading to the kitchen, a sour look on his face as he rolled his eyes. His nephew delivered the punch line, and Emmett pushed away from the frame to meet Justus.

“Oh, hello, boy. Glad you could make it. We were just starting the steaks,” Emmett said. His smile seemed extra wide as he gave Justus a firm handshake and clapped him on the shoulder with more heartiness than usual.

“Yeah, glad you’re here,” Wesley said with a pained smile. “We were wondering about you.”

Justus raised one eyebrow, and Wesley gave him a level stare.

The rib-eye steaks were grilled to succulent perfection, filling the back yard with the savory smells of charcoal and apple wood. They dug in with abandon.

Justus felt a mean satisfaction when Wesley sported a dollop of sauce on his cheek for many minutes. Trading an amused glance with Emmett, Justus turned industriously back to his plate, surreptitiously wiping his own face just in case he had missed his mouth as well.

As they gathered the dishes together for washing, Justus heard Emmett making the same vow he made after every big meal, to never do that to himself again.

“Emmett, it was self-inflicted, you know,” Justus said innocently.

“Justifiable, though.”

Justus carried his dishes to the kitchen and slipped through the door to the patio. Zephyr slept in an undignified position. On her back, with her belly skyward, she sprawled on a chaise lounge, all decorum thrown aside. As he watched, she curled, yawning cavernously, and then looked at Justus. She winked one eye at him. It was the same color as the stone he chose for a shield against the Imperium’s locating device.

“What are you thinking, little one?” he asked softly.

That she was filthy, he decided. She furiously began an emergency cleanup job on her tail. It kept flipping away from her, and a chase ensued with the kitten circling faster and faster until she caught and cleaned the appendage thoroughly.

He heard Sable laughing with Wesley in the dining room and felt a tug of irritation again. The guy was such a primo jerk, a meathead without the redeeming quality of the protein, even. Justus drummed his fingers on the headrest of the kitten’s chair.

Having finished with the tail, Zephyr held one of her back feet in her two front paws, bit, and cleaned between the spread toes.

When Justus heard Wesley give an irritating snorting laugh from the house, he broke under the strain of holding his boiling temper and sent out a questing tendril of magic. He ignored Sable’s gasp and noted with satisfaction that there were no other mages close. Justus flipped his fingers and sent the tiny ball of Fire into the house. It zipped past the open door on a mission.

Zephyr paused and looked up, tongue protruding slightly from between her teeth like an afterthought as she waited with Justus. A yelp and a crash made her grin in cat fashion, and then she returned to cleaning her toes.

Justus bit down on his bottom lip and tried to breathe slowly. The magic quickly dissipated into the night. From the kitchen came sounds of a commotion.

“What bit me? Damn it, something, a freakin’ bee got down my shirt. Holy shit, that hurt.”

The breath Justus held exploded, and he was still wheezing when Sable strode toward him across the patio from the kitchen, her face a thundercloud. He knew his attempt at innocence had failed utterly when she poked a stiff finger into his ribs.

“Have a seat,” she said, indicating a patio chair opposite the kitten.

Zephyr gave up entirely on even the pretense of cleaning. She watched with head cocked slightly, her bright eyes winking at Justus as he settled into the chair.

“Now,” Sable said. “What shall we talk about?” She scooted the kitten to the side and seated herself on the lounge. Justus noted her eyes were alarmingly similar to Zephyr’s. Both seemed to have him in their crosshairs.

Man up, boyo
.

“Seriously, you can’t like that guy, can you?” Justus asked.

“He’s okay. Good-looking, helps out in the kitchen, has a great aunt and uncle, and—”

A squawk from the kitchen interrupted. “Whadda ya mean, you can’t find the stinger? I know I got a bee in my shirt. There’s got to be a mark somewhere,” Wesley whined from the kitchen.

“I just can’t find it,” Maggie said, her voice uncharacteristically sharp.

“Maybe it’s a hit and run kind of bee,” Emmett’s voice snarked.

Sable blew out a breath through clenched teeth and gave Justus a wry look. “He is a piece of work, isn’t he?”

Justus chose to nod without comment. Zephyr curved her body sinuously over the arm of the bench, as if waiting for his attention. “Whatcha think, missy? Did you like that, then?” Justus said.

Zephyr trilled, and he reached to stroke her back. The kitten leaped to his lap instead and bumped her forehead under his chin.

“That means ‘love,’ you know,” Sable said as he allowed the kitten to bump him again. “When a cat bumps their head, it isn’t the same as rubbing their chin on a chair leg. Rubbing means, ‘you are mine.’ But when they bump you with their forehead, it means, ‘Love Ya.’”

“Really? Good to know.”

Fireflies flickered in the shadows of the bushes and trees. Their tiny bursts of light flared in their all-consuming obsession of finding a mate.

Justus stirred and inhaled deeply. “Do you have a different soap? I smell something different, like jasmine or some kind of flowery smell.”

“Yes, I went to the store yesterday, bought some new shampoo. And some tops.”

“Is that one of them?”

Sable looked down automatically and fingered one sleeve that was shirred from her elbow to her shoulder. The silver chimed on her arm. “Yes,” she said. “I’ve never had anything like this before. Thank you.”

He looked at her, surprised. “Thank you? For what?”

“For a job, I guess.”

“Paying you for doing work. Wow, it has got to be a first.”

She laughed, and he felt the sound of it rivaled the musical chimes of her bracelets. He wanted to do something to make her laugh again, just so he could go on hearing the sound of her voice. Her teeth flashed and he saw the reflection of the stars in her eyes as she smiled at him.

“Thank you for everything,” she said. Then she leaned forward and slid her fingers over his arm.

Justus held still and tried to keep his breathing under control.

She gestured at the lightening bugs as they streaked past. “I used to catch them in bottles and pretend they were fairies.”

Justus nodded. “Me too.”

“And rings. I would put one on my finger and pretend it was a diamond ring.”

“I used to step on them and smear them across the sidewalk,” Wesley said as he came up behind them. “The light stayed there for a long time. Pretty soon, the cement looked like a lighted walkway with all those streaks on it.”

He laughed coarsely, stepped behind Sable, and put his hands possessively on her shoulders. She shrugged and scooted away, breaking contact.

Sable glanced at Justus as she stood up. He could see her struggle to keep from copying his grin. “Time to go in, I think. It’s getting chilly,” she said.

She brushed the silver bracelets on her wrist, and the sound jangled like a wind chime. “You will be at the shop tomorrow, won’t you?” she asked, her fingers tightening on her arm.

He hesitated, considered the lie. But her eyes did not leave his face, intent on his response. The ward stone sprang to life on his chest, the intensity of the heat uncomfortable. He stirred and firmed his mouth in a hard line when he recognized the element of Spirit, small but powerful.

“You shouldn’t do that.”

Sable shrugged and didn’t reply.

It had been a long time since someone had used gathered magic on him, and never as a lie detector. Her face remained tense until he laughed suddenly.

“Yes. I will be there
tomorrow
,” Justus said.

Her face smoothed of all emotion, and then she nodded. “Good enough, I guess.”

Her face shadowed until he smiled. Even then, her eyes glittered of something other than the reflection of the stars.

“Until then?” Her voice broke.

“Yes, but get there early, okay?”

She nodded and turned to go into the house, the kitten with her tail held high in front of her, beating her to the door.

Wesley had a quizzical expression as he watched her leave, a mixture of confusion and faint resentment. It was not a harmonious combination. “What’s the chick needing? A time card or something? More hours?” he muttered.

Justus felt his mouth tighten. He got to his feet.

Wesley stood as well and seemed to notice Justus. “Hey, did you see that crystal ball thing Sable keeps in her apartment? Bet that is worth a bundle.”

“You’ve seen her crystal ball?”

A little smile was on Wesley’s face as he looked at Justus now, a self-satisfied expression. “Oh, yes. Quite a place she has there too. Comfy.” He laughed as he leered at Justus. “Especially the bed.”

He drew back when Justus began laughing.

“I would bet any amount of money that she gave you the old highway salute,” Justus said.

Wesley’s furious expression gave way to a smirky snarl. “How much ya got to waste on that bet?”

Magic and the Imperium be damned, Justus thought as he prepared to gather a fistful a Fire again.

“Wesley, can you come help?” Sable was at the window, intently eyeing Justus’s upraised hand.

He lowered his arm.

As Wesley passed, his shoulder struck Justus a solid blow, but the nephew was the one who stumbled at the contact. He threw Justus a flat look and went inside.

Justus stood a moment longer in the dark, listening to the house. He slipped around the corner of the patio and followed the brick walk to his car beyond the roses.