Impractical Magic Part 14
Talk about bursting a person's bubble. Sequoia sat up now, wrapping the sheet around her. "Different, how? Different good or different bad?"
"I cannot say." He scooted into a sitting position as well, proud, comfortable, and too d.a.m.ned s.e.xy in his nudity. "There were sensations."
"Oh, boy, were there." Though Ewan wasn't her first lover, he was bound to be her last, for no one could hope to compare with him. "Did you see fireworks, too? I'd always thought that was just a stupid phrase."
"No. Yes. That is not what I mean." He frowned as if struggling to put his thoughts into words. "There were ... feelings I am not accustomed to."
Sequoia couldn't stop her smug smile. "Maybe you're learning how to care, how to love." Which would serve him right for making her fall in love with him.
He drew back sharply. "More likely I was missing the magical stimulation two Fae share during lovemaking."
"Oh." Her heart plummeted to her stomach, and she slid from the bed, tucking the sheet more firmly around herself, feeling strangely vulnerable. A first for her. "I'm so sorry to disappoint you. Maybe you ought to return to the magical realm so you can make love to a faery."
"Is that your plan?"
"What?" As she turned to face him, he left the bed, magnificent in his nakedness, stirring the smoldering embers within her.
"Your declaration of love, your sacrifice of your body was your way to send me back to my home."
Sacrifice of her body? She sure hadn't looked at it that way. Rolling her eyes, Sequoia shook her head. "Yeah, right." Was he really that naive?
"As I suspected." His eyes darkened. "I have been warned never to trust a mortal. I allowed myself to forget that. It will not happen again." He was serious. She stepped toward him. "Ewan, I didn't..." Once again he disappeared, leaving her alone. d.a.m.n the man. How could a person have a decent argument if he kept doing that? Sequoia wrapped her arms around herself. "He'll be back." She wasn't sure if she was saying the words aloud to make them true or because she believed it.
She straightened her spine. "He'll be back." Rose shifted in her theater seat the next night. The remainder of the ride to Dallas had been strangely quiet. Even Sequoia had been subdued. And now Brand's performance was off.
As Rose watched his evening show, she found it easier to concentrate on discovering his secrets. Most of the audience didn't appear to notice, but she could tell his energy and charm were dimmed from his earlier presentations. Had their argument affected him as well?
She knew she'd been unable to concentrate, to think about anything but Brand's delicious kisses and the way he made her want. Lord help her, she wanted.
Rose shook her head. This was not getting her article done. Forcing herself to focus, she discovered how Brand managed to walk through an apparent brick wall. He was good. If he'd been at his top form, she'd probably still be clueless.
When it came time for him to fly, she held her breath. Did the spell still work? It did and he soared above the audience to thunderous applause and total amazement. The smile he beamed to those below him was real for possibly the first time this night. It faltered briefly when his gaze met Rose's.
She responded with a weak smile and a thumbs-up. If she'd realized flying would make him so happy, she would have placed a spell on him years ago.
But he wouldn't have been ready then.
Even now, his acceptance of magic, of her power, was limited. Until he understood how much her magic was a part of her, he wouldn't ever be ready.
Rose sighed. The only good thing to come from this silly deal thus far was her own acceptance of her magic. Not using it brought home how much a part of her it was. She'd avoid using it until she had the story on Brand so he couldn't accuse her of cheating, then she'd be true to herself. She'd tried to deny it long enough, to deny that she was Fae, that she was anything like t.i.tania.
But she was Fae. Nothing she could say or do would change that fact. Perhaps she should go with Ewan, visit the magical realm. Maybe she did fit in better there than here.
Or was she again trying to deny an unavoidable truth?
Meeting Brand's heated gaze as he returned to the stage, she grimaced. Such as the way he made her feel?
With the show over, Rose waited for the crowd to thin before she tried to find Sequoia. They'd decided to visit a local club-just the two of them. No men.
Apparently Sequoia had finally come to her senses in regard to Ewan, but it had left a wound in her cousin's eyes. If that arrogant faery ever appeared again, Rose had a few choice words for him.
"Well, if it isn't Miss Thayer."
The sneer in the voice had Rose stiffening even before she turned to see who spoke. Recognizing the man only added to her tension, but she kept her tone even. "Peter Majestic. What a surprise to see you here. Checking up on your compet.i.tion?"
"What compet.i.tion? You put me out of business." His anger came through clearly now.
"You put yourself out of business." True, she'd written the article that exposed his more well-known illusions, but others had survived her exposes. "All you had to do was work up new material."
"Ha. What new material? By the time you're done, there won't be an illusion left to be accomplished."
Rose bit her tongue to keep from saying what she truly wanted to say. Peter Majestic had been going steadily downhill even before she wrote her expose. He had made a brief splash over fifteen years ago with a single innovative illusion that had been swiftly duplicated by other magicians. Past fifty now, his looks fading, his talent never equal to that of Brand's, he needed a scapegoat to satisfy his ego. Obviously she was it.
"I'm doing my job," she said finally, dismissing him in tone and action by turning her back on him. Before she could go two steps, he snared her arm and jerked her to a halt. She turned slowly, ensuring he felt the full force of her glare. This might end up being a knee to the groin she wouldn't regret. "I suggest you let go of me."
"I could sue you, you know. You ruined me."
She hesitated. Just how rational was he? "If I had written anything other than the truth, perhaps you'd have a case. As it is, you know you don't." "You can't be sure of that." "Yes, I can. If you had a case you would have sued me when I first wrote the expose five years ago." Rose yanked her arm free of his hold. "Go away, Majestic. Whatever your problems, they have nothing to do with me." She intended to stalk away, but this time he grabbed for her shoulder and ended up tearing the elbow-length sleeve on her dress. That did it. He was going to be in severe pain very shortly. Before Rose could round on him with a carefully aimed knee, Brand appeared by her side and stepped between her and the faded magician. "Get the h.e.l.l out of here, Pete."
Rose could feel the violence radiating from him. "I was handling it," she muttered.
He ignored her, his attention centered on the smaller man. "Go. Just because you're a has been is no reason to take it out on Rose."
Rage burned in Majestic's eyes. "You're protecting that b.i.t.c.h? You'll feel differently after she tells the world how you do that flying illusion."
Brand produced a sardonic grin. "Actually, I can pretty much guarantee that that's one illusion she won't reveal."
Rose grimaced. He had a point there.
A sneer crossed Majestic's face. "I see. She must be pretty d.a.m.ned good in bed, then."
Brand planted his fist into the man's jaw, knocking the magician to the floor, then towered over him, glaring down. "Get out of here. Now." Glancing up, he motioned for a distant security guard to come over.
Holding his hand against his face, Majestic climbed to his feet. "You'll be sorry, Goodfellow. She's just using you to get your secrets. You'll see."
Brand ignored him to glance at the guard. "Escort this person from the building, please."
The guard gripped Majestic's arm in a firm hold. "Yes, sir, Mr. Goodfellow."
Majestic left, but he called out a final comment over his shoulder. "You'll be sorry. You'll see."
His words echoed in the empty theater as Brand finally recognized Rose's presence. Her anger hadn't cooled at all. "Do you feel better now?" she asked. "All macho and stuff? Want to beat your chest?"
His eyes widened before he frowned. "I was trying to help you."
"I was handling it myself." How did Brand think she'd survived the past seventeen years without him?
"I thought you didn't want to use your magic."
She inhaled sharply. "Don't be a jerk." She looked away for a moment, attempting to rein in the urge to punch him, then impaled him with her worst stare. "Why do you a.s.sume I need magic? Am I incapable of taking care of myself? I've taken self-defense cla.s.ses. I've faced worse idiots than him over the past few years and, you know, I haven't turned one of them into a toad yet."
His mouth set in the obstinate line she recognized all too well. "I'm not a.s.suming anything. I thought you needed help."
"Well, I didn't." Spotting Sequoia in the hallway, Rose hurried toward her. "Let's get the h.e.l.l out of here."
Her cousin glanced from Rose to Brand and produced a wry smile. "Sounds good to me."
"Where are you going?" Brand demanded.
Rose turned her head slowly and glared at him. "Not that it's any of your business, but we're going out."
"Where?"
She sent him an incredulous look, then turned away. That did not deserve an answer, but Sequoia replied anyway. "New nightclub-City Lights." When Rose glanced at her cousin, Sequoia shrugged. "Well, he is my boss." Rose shook her head. "He's a man and right now I'm fed up with all of them." Especially Brand Goodfellow. She couldn't decide which she wanted to do more-kiss him or kill him.
Sequoia fell into step beside her. "I'm all for that. To h.e.l.l with men."
That about summed it up.
Three hours later Brand continued to pace the floor of his suite, only half-listening to the television set. His thoughts, as usual of late, centered on Rose. No other woman could drive him so crazy so quickly.
Try to help her and what did he get? Accusations and anger. Some thanks.
Okay, so she probably could have handled it. She was the most independent, infuriating woman he'd ever met. Once again he'd screwed up where Rose was concerned.
Brand slid open the patio door and stepped out into the warm night. A cool breeze kept it pleasant, disrupting the humidity enough to make it bearable. Lights dotted the area surrounding the hotel-businesses, malls, homes.
Normally after a performance such a sight would relax him, but not tonight. His concentration had been off and his show had suffered because of it. All because of Rose.
d.a.m.n her. In a matter of days she had managed to destroy all his carefully built control. Especially tonight. When he'd emerged from backstage to see Majestic rip her dress, Brand hadn't thought, he'd reacted.
Majestic should have been grateful Brand controlled his first impulse to pulverize the has-been, though Brand had needed precious little incentive to swing a satisfying punch at the man.
And it had felt good. He'd protected his woman.
Brand groaned. His woman? Where was his brain? Rose belonged to no one, and if he'd doubted that, she'd certainly cleared it up for him right away.
Yet the other magician's comment about Rose being good in bed had hit too close to home. Brand wanted her-in his arms and in his bed. Seventeen years hadn't changed his feelings nearly as much as he'd thought. She only had to reenter his life, and his hormones reacted as if he were still a teenager.
Brand stared into the darkness. He desired her with a ferocity that startled him. If he believed in such vagaries as fate he'd think they were destined to end up in bed together. But he knew better. No matter what his more primal urges wanted, his common sense knew he and Rose could never be together. Her magic and his longing for it would always be between them.
With a sigh, Brand jammed his fingers through his hair and allowed himself to play a game of what if. What if Rose wasn't Fae? Would they have been a couple through high school? Beyond? Or would he have become bored with her? Moved on to another by now?
Somehow he doubted that. It was every other woman that he'd quickly grown tired of. But Rose had been adventurous and fascinating even before she'd grown into her magic. Every moment spent with her had been exciting. Which was one thing that hadn't changed over the years. Even now he could truthfully say he hadn't experienced one dull moment since Rose's arrival.
A sudden rumbling in the distance caught his attention, and Brand straightened to examine it more closely. Screams echoed in the darkness as a large plume of dust rose, blotting out the lights. His breath caught as he sensed the terror out there. What was going on?
Where was it? Downtown to be certain, but from this height he couldn't make out any details. He stepped inside and switched the TV to a local station. Maybe they'd have something on.
He'd barely changed channels when a Special Bulletin screen flashed up. Within moments a young woman, her expression strained, appeared. "This just in," she said. "The roof at City Lights, a popular nightclub in downtown Dallas, has collapsed, burying the approximately two hundred customers within. Rescue crews are just now arriving on the scene."
She paused and touched her ear. "We have Paul Leonard at the scene of this tragedy. Go ahead, Paul."
The picture changed to a man standing in front of a half-standing building that looked far worse than what Brand had seen from his balcony. The man spoke, further highlighting the number feared trapped beneath the rubble, but Brand wasn't listening.
City Lights.
That was where Rose and Sequoia had gone.
Bone-chilling terror washed over him before he could move, then he dashed to the balcony to view the disaster. He had to do something. Save them. He'd risen two feet off the balcony before he realized he had the power to fly there and help. He soared into the air, then stopped as his mind finally tempered his impulses.
Fly there? Flying within the confines of the theater could be explained. If someone saw him now, no explanation would suffice. And what could he do when he did reach the nightclub? The trained personnel had a better chance of saving someone than he did.
Yet the urge to be there, do something, gripped him. If anything happened to Rose or Sequoia...
Maybe they'd already returned.
He flew to the balcony of Rose's room and tried the door. Locked.
Not a problem.
Especially for an illusionist trained in escapes.
Within moments he was inside her dark hotel room. Her scent-a mixture of flowers and freshness-filled the air, but he knew she wasn't there even before he searched the area. His throat tight, he returned to the balcony.
The dust still lingered in the distance, a vision of destruction against the black of night. It took little imagination to feel the collapsed building around him.
Brand wrapped his fingers around the rail, resisting the urge to soar into the sky. Was this what Rose had meant by the restrictions that came with her magic? He could fly, but at this moment he couldn't do anything with it. Had she felt this same frustration when she'd realized she couldn't cure a room full of sick children?
He'd always been so sure that she'd used her magic freely without thought of consequences, but had she really? Had he only noticed because he knew her secret? No one else at school had ever accused Rose of being different, of doing anything unexplainable. Had she actually been more circ.u.mspect than he'd imagined?
Closing his eyes, Brand tried to recall those painful days of high school. Had his jealousy magnified her magic use into more than it was? Aside from a few incidents, she'd been coping admirably without using her powers over the past several days.
Yet surely she'd use her magic to save herself and Sequoia. A sense of helplessness squeezed his chest as he stared at the growing dark cloud. But what if she'd hadn't had a chance? The announcer said the roof had collapsed. What if she'd been caught in that with no chance to react?
To h.e.l.l with it. Brand rose to the top of the railing. If someone saw him flying, he'd deal with it. Somehow. His fear wouldn't allow him to remain still. He had to do something. With one foot in mid-air he froze. Was that the door? He pivoted, crouched, and waited.
Thirteen.
Rose hesitated inside the door, her hand on the light switch. Something didn't feel right. She shook her head to clear the fogginess. Shouldn't have had that last drink.