by Michelle Fox
“Yes. I’m committed.”
“Very well. I will do my best by you, my friend, but don’t blame me if the Lady is angry with you and you end up as a toad.”
“Understood. Thank you.” Aidan inclined his head in an informal bow. Turning to Dougal, he said, “Are you ready?”
Dougal closed his eyes, concentrating. The air around him wavered and he seemed to flicker in and out of focus, coming back smaller and thinner until he had assumed Marion’s form. “I think so. How do I look?”
“Just like her,” Aidan said. “You have the charms?”
Dougal pulled a necklace out from underneath his shirt and showed Aidan the two charms dangling from it. “All set to bewitch and bedazzle our evil mage. He’ll never know what hit him.”
“Excellent. Hopefully this won’t take more than a couple of days.”
Dougal smirked. “Not that you’d complain if it took longer.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“I’ve seen the way you look at her. Tell me you aren’t thinking about a roll or two with her and you’d be lying.”
Aidan’s cheeks grew warm. “I happen to like her.”
“Enough to stick around when the Lady calls you back to Court?” McAllister asked raising his bushy eyebrows. “Or are you just going to break the girl’s heart?”
Aidan shrugged. “I doubt the Lady will give me much choice. We’ve only spent a few hours together anyway. I can’t say one way or another, but I do know this. I like her. She’s in trouble and I can help.”
“Fair enough,” McAllister said.
A door opened and closed, signaling the entrance of one of the women. The men fell silent, not wanting to be overheard and watched as Raven came down the short hallway, rolling a large suitcase behind her.
“I called Wolf on my cell phone. He should be here to pick me up soon,” she said, dragging her suitcase to the door. "When are you guys leaving?”
Aidan put a casual arm around Dougal-turned-Marion, watching to see if Raven noticed. “As soon as Marion is done packing.”
As if she’d heard him, Marion’s door opened and she came to join them, a large duffel bag slung over her shoulder. Catching sight of Dougal, she gasped. “You look just like me.” Dropping her bag, she went over to the giant and peered closely into his face.
“That’s amazing.”
“It is,” Raven agreed. “I thought he was you when I came out.” She shot an accusatory glance at Aidan, who just smiled.
Marion reached out and touched Dougal’s cheek, an expression of wonder on her face. “How did you do that?”
“Magic,” Dougal said.
“What kind of magic, exactly? I’ve heard of transformation spells and illusions, but this is something different.” She poked her twin in the arm.
“Fay shape shifters have their own magic.”
“It’s better than anything I’ve seen." Marion walked around him, awe turning to clouded disappointment. “Does my ass really look like that?”
“I don’t know. I sort of improvised there. Here, turn around and let me see,” Dougal said.
Marion turned and he considered her backside with a thoughtful expression, then, with a grunt, rearranged his. “There, is that better?”
Marion nodded. “Oh yes, much better, but I have a question. What would I look like if I lost ten pounds? Can you show me thinner?”
“Sure.” Dougal closed his eyes and slimmed down before her eyes.
“Hmm, how about twenty?” Marion asked rubbing her chin.
Dougal changed again.
“Thirty?” She stared at him for several long seconds and shook her head. “No, that’s too much. Twenty pounds should about do it. Thanks.”
“No problem, fair maid.” Dougal swept his arm in an elaborate bow. “Always happy to do my part for beauty.”
“I think you look fine the way you are,” Aidan said.
Marion smiled at him. “Thanks.”
“You should go dancing more often,” Raven said. “Tones me right up.” She patted her flat stomach for effect.
“I can think of other kinds of exercise besides dancing,” Aidan said, keeping his voice low and for Marion’s ears only. Ears that quickly turned red.
Marion cleared her throat. “Well, I’m packed, when do you want to leave?”
“Now.” Aidan hoisted her bag over his shoulder.
“Great.” She pulled a piece of paper out of a backpack leaning against the wall and gave it to Dougal. “Here’s my class schedule. You’ll probably want to follow my regular routine. Try to take good notes for me, okay?”
Dougal took the paper from her and looked at it. “School? I’m going back to school?” He narrowed his eyes at Aidan. “You didn’t tell me I was going to be a student.”
Aidan held up his hands in a placating gesture. “I didn’t think that far ahead, but Marion’s right. You should keep as close as you can to her regular schedule. And paying attention will make you more believable.”
“You’re a good student then, Marion? Always showing up, doing well on tests and so on?”
Marion nodded. “Except Potions. I’m flunking that class.”
Dougal gave a dramatic sigh. “I’m much better at being the mead-drinking, class-missing student, but, for you, Aidan, I’ll do my best.”
“I’ll buy you an entire barrel of the Queen’s own mead once we’re done with this,” Aidan promised.
“What does this bloke Eric look like? You have any pictures?” Dougal asked Marion.
Marion shook her head. “I didn’t keep any pictures, but Eric is easy to spot. He’s tall, had dark hair, and there's a large mole on his cheek. It's about the size of a dime.”
“The mole will make it easy,” Dougal agreed. “I will keep watch for the mole of evil then.”
Aidan offered Marion his arm. “Shall we?”
“Just let me say goodbye to Raven.” She went over to her roommate and gave her a hug. “Thanks for all your help. Without you, I’d be all alone in this. You’ve been great.”
Raven smiled. “You’re welcome. Take care of yourself. Be safe.”
“You too.” Marion turned to Aidan. “Let’s go.”
Chapter Eight
To Marion’s surprise, Aidan drove a sporty BMW. What model she couldn’t say since she didn’t pay much attention to cars, but it was small and silver and went very fast. So fast, she clutched the door handle in a death grip, bracing for an imminent collision, and wondered if Aidan was part speed-demon. Still, he managed not to crash and never ran a red light. Once they were out of the city and on the open road, she relaxed.
Then she started to think and tensed up again. She hadn’t had much time to really consider everything that was going on. Eric’s phone call had been such a shock, she hadn’t stopped to weigh her options. Aidan presented a solution and she went along with it, no questions asked. Now that the rush of planning and packing was over, and she’d had some time to distance herself from the emotional impact of Eric’s reappearance, doubts began to surface.
How well did she know Aidan?
Not well.
Where were they going?
She had no idea.
Worse, no one had a phone number or knew where they were going. Well, she assumed McAllister and Dougal knew, but their loyalties lay with Aidan, not her. A horrible thought struck her. What if Aidan wasn’t even Aidan, but Eric in disguise?
Her heart thudded and her eyes widened. It would be just like Eric to worm his way into her life and lull her into a false sense of security before locking his hands around her throat. Marion looked at Aidan, who was concentrating on the road. If only she knew the spells that would break an illusion, but those classes came after Potions. Everything she needed came after Potions.
It was as if Eric had set up the curriculum.
She had no magical knowledge to defend herself with except a few healing potions and a love potion that was a good stand-in for a grenade. At that, Marion brightene
d for a moment. She could always mix up a batch of exploding love potions and use that as a weapon. Except she hadn’t brought any of the ingredients with her. Drat.
She stared out the window, watching the beige desert landscape blur by, and tried to figure out what she should do. Spotting a blue rest-stop sign, she said, “Aidan, do you mind stopping? I’ve got to use the bathroom.” And call for help.
Aidan nodded and steered the car to the far right lane. “Sure.”
Minutes later, Marion shut herself in a bathroom stall and dialed.
“Hello, this is 911. What is your emergency?”
“Someone threatened to kill me,” she whispered.
“Is someone trying to kill you now?” The dispatcher asked.
“Um...maybe.” She slumped against the wall and ran a hand through her hair.
The dispatcher’s voice cooled. “We don’t deal with threats. You should call your local police station ma’am.”
“But you don’t understand, I’ve already left home. I don’t have a local police station at the moment.”
“I’m sorry, but we only deal with life or death emergencies.”
“He almost killed me once, doesn’t that count?”
“Not unless he’s currently trying to kill you.”
“Well he is, he just hasn’t found me yet.”
“Again, I’m sorry. You’re going to have to go to your local police station. I can’t help you.”
The line went dead. Thinking quickly, she dialed information and asked for the Quarry Springs PD.
"Quarry Springs Police Department," answered a bored female voice. "This is Julia."
"Uh. Hi. Detective Wallace, please?"
"There's no one here by that name."
A chill swept over Marion. "What do you mean he's not there? He was the detective on my case."
"I'm sorry. There's no one here by that name."
"Can I speak to Chief Smith, please?" She'd never met him, but had spent enough time at the station answering questions about Eric to learn his name.
"I'll see if he's available."
Soft jazz music played in Marion's ear while she waited for Julia to transfer her call to the chief. She tried not to think the worst, but fear ate at her anyway. If Detective Wallace hadn't called her, then who had? She didn't want to think about the answer to that question.
"I'm sorry, the chief is in a meeting. I checked with his secretary though and she said Detective Wallace retired."
"Oh. He did? When? He just called me this week."
"It's been at least a year."
Tears burned her eyes at that and she began to shake. "I see. Thank you." She disconnected the call and slumped against the stall door, unable to hold herself up without help.
It had been Eric who'd called her. There was no other explanation. She gritted her teeth as she realized he'd been toying with her this whole time. What else in her life was a lie? What other weak spots had he found to exploit? Could she trust anyone?
Moving to Vegas was supposed to protect her. Not just with an education in magic, but the extra security. No one wanted a mage like Eric loose in the casinos. Anyone with magic and a criminal history was barred from entering Vegas via mundane tracking and various protective wards. Some of the best magic in the world policed who had access to the casinos.
Had Eric found a way around that? He would try. She had no doubt of that, but could he beat the wards? She'd counted on Vegas' magic to keep him away from her, but that may have been naive.
And to make things worse, she'd left Vegas. Sure, Aidan had said he had wards too, but did he really? She shouldn't have been so quick to run.
Annoyed with herself, she took a deep breath and wiped away her tears. Nothing to do now but play along and keep an eye out for clues as to who Aidan really was. She was alone. No one was coming to save her and that meant she had to save herself.
I can do this. I don't know how, but I'm not going to let Eric win.
***
Aidan was waiting for her in the main lobby of the rest stop, a cup of coffee in each hand. "Over here," he called out.
Like she could miss him. He stood a good head taller than everyone else and his sunny good looks almost made him glow. Every woman in the place had swiveled their heads at the sound of his voice and now stared, utterly riveted. Marion felt the pull of his attraction as well, but remembering he might just be Eric in disguise dulled the effect.
Of course, she didn't recall Eric ever being that tall. She found the observation mildly reassuring. Glamour casting could disguise a person, but it didn't add height or weight. Mages didn't have the ability to shapeshift like Dougal did. That was a fay thing. Mages only commanded illusion, not reality.
Smiling at him, she said, "Hey."
“Everything okay? Calling home?” He nodded toward the cell phone still in her hand.
“Just trying to reach Raven and see how things are going,” she lied, stashing the phone in her pocket and hoping he didn’t suspect anything.
“I take it you didn’t get through?”
Marion shook her head. “No.”
“Keep trying. She’ll answer sooner or later.” He extended a steaming cup toward her. “Here, I got you some coffee.”
“Oh. Thanks.” She took the cup, but stopped short of drinking from it. Eric wasn’t above using drugs or poison. But Aidan probably wasn't Eric. Or was he? Ugh. She hated having to question every little thing. Still, better safe than sorry.
She pushed the coffee back into his hand. “I’d better skip it. You don’t want me hyper in such a small car.”
“Are you sure? It’s hazelnut.” He sniffed his cup with an expression of bliss. “Good stuff.”
“I’m sure, but thanks. It was sweet of you.”
“No problem. I could use another cup anyways. One thing Fairy never has is good coffee.”
“I think I’ll get a bottle of water to take with me though,” she said looking over to the convenience store that stood to the side of the lobby. “Do you want one?”
“Sure. That’s probably a good idea. Driving always makes me thirsty.”
Well, just so long as he wasn’t bloodthirsty.
***
Back in the car, Marion clasped her hands around her water bottle, her mind racing. How could she prove, without a doubt, whether or not Eric was masquerading as Aidan? She thought back to her Introduction to Magic class, trying to recall what the professor had said about the art of illusion.
Illusions were always visual and never stood up to physical contact. So anyone wary of touch should be suspect. All she had to do was touch him. If he avoided her, she would know the truth.
But wait. She’d already been touching him and he had been more than willing. Plus, as she'd just noticed, he was physically bigger than Eric. He probably really was Aidan the elf. Relief dispelled the tension tying knots in her spine and then one thought had the knots coming back tighter than ever: What if Aidan's height was part of the illusion?
Eric wouldn't be able to change his actual height, the rules of magic were clear on that, but he could maybe make it seem like he was taller. She didn't know the magic well enough to be sure, which meant she still didn't know if she was safe.
Damn it.
She had to know, had to be sure who was who. Did Aidan really exist or had her ex lured her out of Vegas intent on murder? There was nothing to do but find a reason to touch Aidan so she could check for Eric's mole. If they kissed again, she could run her hand across Aidan’s cheek. She should be able to feel the mole through any illusion. Then she would know for sure that Eric hadn’t out-magicked her and that she could trust Aidan.
Just one kiss and she would know.
“So, where are we going?” she asked with a bright smile, trying not to obviously stare at his face. She gripped her water bottle tight, countering the urge to reach out and just touch him and get it over with. Now wasn’t the time. Not with the speedometer registering well over a hundred miles per hour.
Aidan zipped the car around a lumbering semi. “I have a small house in an oak grove about five miles from here."
She looked at the rock filled desert outside her window. "Oak trees? Out here?"
"Yep. Been in my family for centuries.”
"But where does the water come from?" She frowned. The desert didn't get enough rainfall to support anything green. How did Aidan's grove work?
He waggled his fingers at her. "Magic. The land is connected to Fairy."
“Ah. I see. So, we’ll be there soon?”
“Another few minutes.” He swerved to avoid a pothole, the change in direction throwing her against him.
“Why your grove? Why not a hotel?” she asked, pushing off his shoulder to get back to her side of the car.
“No one can find it, but me and mine. The wards are the same wards that protect the queen,” he said, flashing her a grin. “You described Eric as such a powerful mage, I thought this might be safer.”
“Oh.” She wondered if it would be possible for Aidan to ward her apartment with the same magic.
"Eric won't be able to find you in the grove. And we don’t want to be distracted by worrying about you while Dougal serves as bait.”
“You’ve thought of everything it seems.” She cast a wary look at Aidan. If Eric can't find me, then neither can anyone else.
“I am trained to guard and protect.”
Or hide the bodies where no one can find them.
Chapter Nine
The house Aidan pulled up to was a small wood cabin nestled under the gentle arches of an oak grove. The trees loomed tall with broad trunks, their size showing their immense age. Marion stared up at them, her mouth an ‘O’ of awe as Aidan popped the trunk and grabbed their bags.
Opening the front door, he said, “It’s a small floor plan. Here’s the living room.” Hands full, he nodded toward two oversized arm chairs, a leather sofa, and a brick fireplace. “Back here is the kitchen slash dining room.” He pointed through an archway where Marion caught a glimpse of dark granite kitchen counters and oak cupboards. “There should be food. I called the Brownies last night. They should’ve stocked the fridge and the pantry.”
