Mad About You

by Alyssa Dean

  He held both hands in front of him, palms facing her. "It doesn't mean a thing," he warned.

  Faye held out a hand. "How do you do?" she inquired politely. "My name is Alfaye Merline. I'm so pleased you've finally come. Let's go to my place and make plans." She pulled out the package of macadamia nuts, handed it to him and smiled triumphantly.

  Her Wizard had arrived.

  Chapter Four

  "Actually, there are over twelve thousand species of ferns," Faye explained. "Of course, only three hundred and sixty of them grow naturally in this climate, but I've been experimenting—"

  "Ferns?" Kent interrupted. "I thought you were talking about birds."

  "I was," she said. "Now I'm talking about ferns. Don't you like them?"

  "The ferns or the birds?"

  She glanced up at him out of the corners of her silver-blue eyes. "You're making fun of me, aren't you?"

  "I'm just trying to follow you. Let's see, you went from deer to elk to some flower called mule-ears…"

  "That was at least two sentences ago. Now we're talking about ferns."

  He chuckled into her earnest face. "The ferns are… stupendous. Go on."

  She continued, and he listened with part of his mind, while the other part watched her in amazed disbelief. She definitely knew her way around this forest, and from the sound of things, she'd adopted every plant and animal in the area and was planning on bringing him up to speed.

  She'd insisted he accompany her back to her cottage, refusing to tell him anything until they were warm and dry. It hadn't been that difficult to persuade him; he was much too curious. How had someone like her managed to plan a break-in at a place like Sharade Research? Why was she so terrified of Collingswood? What had she really taken, and for what purpose?

  In spite of his denials, she appeared totally convinced that he was the mysterious Wizard she'd been waiting to meet. He had to admit he was responsible for some of that convincing—after all, he'd smashed that atomizer right in front of her. What on earth had he been thinking?

  The delighted little sprite beside him was a welcome change to the one who had stared at him with horror-filled eyes only half an hour ago. That look would stay with him for a long time. He doubted he'd ever forgive himself for treating her so badly, for scaring her so much. He knew how volatile his temper could be. That's why he kept tight control on it, disguising his tendency toward violence with a flippant manner that few could depose. If he was going to lose it, did he have to do it with someone this helpless?

  His self-disgust intensified when he felt a sharp mental query from Avril. He groaned aloud, although he should have expected it. Avril picked up strong emotions from him, no matter how far away she was. She knew he'd gone off the deep end; her concern was more for his victim than for him. He tried to calm her down, knowing that when he told her the details, she would rip into him with painful thoroughness. The idea made him wince, but he considered it due penance for the treatment he'd dished out to the vulnerable woman beside him.

  "Here it is!" Faye announced happily as they stepped out of the woods into a small clearing.

  The house was so much like what he'd imagined that Kent had to smile: red roof, brown logs, the front yard a mixture of brightly colored flowers and thick mossy grass. On one side stood a greenhouse and a couple of sheds that matched the house. The other side, and what he could see of the back, had been sectioned off into numerous square growing areas, each one filled with bushes, trees and flowers. Beside the greenhouse was the biggest, healthiest-looking garden he'd ever seen.

  "I live here alone now," she said as they approached the structure. "After my father died, they told me I should move into the town, but I like it here."

  "It's hardly a town," he observed. "There can't be more than a hundred people living there."

  "A hundred people!" Her eyes widened. "Do you think there's that many?"

  "Yes, I think there's that many."

  "Oh." She paused. "Let's see, there's the Normstams, that's five. The Rawlings, that's three more…"

  She went on with the list, counting on her fingers. "I think you're right. There could be a hundred people in town."

  "Oh, Lord," he muttered. "Where have you been all your life?"

  "I told you. Here. Before that—" She shrugged enchantingly. "Well, there's a lot of before that, but I don't want to tell you right now."

  "Why not? You've told me everything else."

  "You haven't told me anything," she complained. "I'm ever so curious about you. I thought if I told you about me, you'd tell me about you."

  "I'm not half as fascinating as you are," Kent declared.

  She stopped outside the door, and brushed aside a strand of his hair. "I didn't know we'd meet under these circumstances. I'm sorry I tried to knock you out."

  He shrugged. "Just don't do it again, hmm?"

  "I wouldn't!" She pursed her mouth into a considering pout. "I'm so glad it's you. Did I tell you that? I am. I like you. I liked you the first time I met you."

  "That's why you knocked me out?" he teased. "Because you liked me?"

  "No. I had to, you know that." She arched up on her toes and touched a lighter-than-air kiss to his lips, her body pressed against his. His mind flashed the information that underneath that almost-transparent gray-brown dress, his pixie was totally naked. It took a great deal of willpower to gently push her aside. "I don't think we should do that."

  "Why not?" Faye's silver-blue eyes widened to astonishment. "We are going to be lovers."

  "Oh, no," Kent said, groaning. "Don't tell me Tinker Bell's a nymphomaniac!"

  "I'm not a nymphomaniac," she retorted. "I'm a virgin."

  Kent felt his face warm. "Do you announce this to everyone you meet?"

  "No." She shook her head seriously. "Just you. You should know, shouldn't you?"

  "I don't think it's any of my business."

  "Of course, it is."

  He looked down into her upturned face, her eyes iridescent, her face filled with excitement, anticipation. "It really isn't," he insisted, hoping she'd take the hint and drop the subject.

  Her hand came up, a finger brushed across his lips. "We will be lovers, Kent MacIntyre." Her voice had a soft, high lilt, and her eyes had changed from frightened innocence to wily temptation. She waved her arm, forming a slow half-circle in the air. "We will be together. And together, we will be magic."

  Kent ground the fingernails of his left hand into his palm. Her words and her motions seemed to cast a spell, creating a vision of them together, her small perfect body a white flame against his darkness. Together, they would be magic, her hands touching him, his caressing her…

  "Stop it!" he ordered hoarsely.

  The happiness on her face faded to bleakness. "Then our time together will be over, and then—Well, you know what happens then." She stared up into his face, as if pulling thoughts from his mind. "You do know?"

  He opened his mouth, closed it again and dumbly shook his head, unable to think of a single thing to say.

  "You don't? Oh, well, it's not important now, anyway." She drew in a breath and opened the door.

  Kent rolled his eyes to the heavens, prayed for strength, and followed her inside.

  They entered a square room that appeared to serve as a kitchen, eating and living area. The room was dominated by a large stone fireplace that covered half the length of one wall. In front of it was an oval braided rug, a long green sofa of questionable age, and a huge overstuffed gray chair. At the other end was the kitchen, complete with a white wooden table and matching chairs. Two doorways off the room showed a tiny bedroom and the bathroom. None of the furniture matched, but it all seemed to fit together in an unusual, unreal manner.

  Most of the decor was provided by the plants. Every inch of almost every flat surface was covered with potted plants, all appearing incredibly healthy. The front window faced east, and in front of it were hanging pots filled with more plants. The entire place was permeated by a sc
ent he immediately associated with her, although he couldn't remember smelling it before.

  The table was set in readiness for two: forest green place mats, white plates, green mugs that matched the place mats, and old-fashioned cutlery. "Who's here?" Kent demanded.

  "No one. Just us." She flitted into the room and stood in its center, pivoting gracefully. "What do you think?"

  "Think?"

  "Do you like it? I made a lot of it myself."

  "It's… charming." He paced around, checking both the smaller rooms to make sure they were alone. When he came out of the bathroom, Faye was in the bedroom, the door wide open while she blithely removed her clothes.

  Kent averted his eyes, deciding this was too darned tempting, and returned to the bathroom. Although her sweet little body had felt awfully good, and every time he touched her, his own body ached in response, Kent had no intention of carrying through with her suggestion that they become lovers. For one thing, she was a criminal. For another, taking advantage of someone that helplessly naive would leave him riddled with guilt.

  "You're a vegetarian, aren't you?" Faye called out.

  "Yes," he grunted absently. He made a face at his reflection in the bathroom mirror—he could use a shave, and perhaps a bar of soap. He did a mental run-through of the few items he'd stuffed into his backpack. None of them was a razor. Oh, well, he wouldn't be here long.

  "I thought so. Tea?"

  "What?" He reentered the room and did a perfect double take as he realized she was bustling about the kitchen, preparing a meal. "What on earth are you up to now?"

  "You're hungry," she said with some exasperation. "You haven't eaten since this morning, have you?"

  "No, but—"

  "Then you should eat." She pulled a steaming dish from the oven of the woodstove, and set it on the table. "It's all ready."

  "I'm not here to eat! I want to hear your story, and get back to civilization!"

  "We can eat first," she said sunnily. "It's a vegetarian meal—I'm one, too." She pointed to a chair. "You sit there."

  He didn't move for a moment, but when she settled herself down and gazed expectantly at him, he gave up. "Oh, fine." He sat down and took a cautious sip of the tea, a herbal affair hinting of cinnamon. "How come the table was set for two?"

  She eyed him as if he'd lost his mind. "There's two of us. You and I."

  "But it was set when we got here."

  "Of course, it was." She filled his plate, then hers. "I got as much ready as I could beforehand. Don't you do that? It saves rushing around when there's company. You aren't really company, of course, but you haven't been here before, either."

  Kent took a healthy slug of tea. "Gosh, Toto, I don't think we're in Kansas anymore," he muttered as he set down the cup and picked up a fork. He waited until she'd taken a few mouthfuls before concentrating on the meal, which tasted deliciously different.

  "It's my mother's recipe," Faye explained. "One of my favorites."

  "It's great," he assured her. "Listen, Faye, do you think you can put together one coherent thought and explain to me what you were doing at Sharade Research?"

  "Not yet. It's a long story, so we should finish eating first. Besides, I've done all the talking. I want to know about you. I've never met a Wizard before, and I—"

  "I told you, I'm not a Wizard!" Kent interrupted. "Right now, I'm a detective."

  "But you're not always?" she guessed.

  How could someone who appeared so totally out of touch have such wise eyes? "No," Kent admitted after a slight pause. "I also work with my sister—"

  "Don't tell me," she interrupted. She rolled her eyes up to stare at the ceiling. "A month. Spring. Not May. April!"

  "That's real close," he said, nodding. "Avril. How did you know?"

  She laughed, wrinkling up her nose, not answering. "Go on. What do you do with Avril?"

  "We own a company called VisTech. I used to help Avril run it, but I haven't had much to do with it for a couple of years. I've done more business consulting for other companies."

  She nodded. "The day-to-day operations of a company wouldn't appeal to you, if everything was going smoothly."

  Everyone, including Avril, had thought he was nuts when he announced he wanted out, yet this odd creature understood right away. "That's pretty much it. It's more of a challenge to go into a place with problems and try to set things straight."

  "That makes sense," she agreed. "And for variety, you do this detective thing."

  It wasn't exactly a question, but Kent found himself explaining. "Stuart Investigations is owned by a friend of mine, Dan Stuart. He claims he's getting too old for fieldwork, so I lend him a hand whenever he needs it."

  "This Dan Stuart, is he your counselor?"

  "My what?"

  "Your counselor. Every Wizard is assigned a counselor when he's starting to develop his powers. The counselor provides advice and support, and is the only one who can control the Wizard."

  Kent concentrated on his plate. She was dead accurate. He'd met Dan when he was in his early twenties, and Dan had immediately slid into the role of mentor, friend and adviser. Dan knew all about Kent's unique abilities, and was the one who had advised him to develop them as much as possible, and keep it to himself. Dan was the one who had encouraged him to leave VisTech and strike out on his own. And, although Dan lived in Denver, and Kent lived in Calgary, whenever Kent was getting that urgent, restless feeling, Dan called up with some interesting assignment.

  "What about parents?" Faye asked right out of the blue.

  Kent slowly raised his head. "They passed away several years ago."

  "Mine are both gone, too." Faye's bottom lip pouted out sympathetically. "It's horrid, isn't it? What about your wife? She's still alive?"

  "I imagine so. Divorce isn't fatal, although sometimes it seems like it will be." Kent set his fork down with undue care as he realized what she'd just asked. "How did you know about that?"

  "About what? Your wife? I told you, I'm…"

  "An expert on Wizards," he completed. "But…"

  She ignored his puzzlement. "What happened?"

  He was too stunned to understand the question. "Happened?"

  "Your wife. What happened to her?"

  "Nothing happened to her. We got divorced, that's all." He picked his fork up again.

  She watched him eat. "Why?"

  "We didn't want to be married anymore, at least not to each other."

  "Oh!" Faye wiped her mouth neatly with a napkin. "I guess you didn't love her, then."

  Kent didn't want to even think about his marriage, much less have it dissected by this unusual woman. "I don't…"

  "Wizards seldom fall in love," Faye went on. "If they do, it's forever, so you couldn't have loved her. You might have thought you did—probably because your sister said you were. She wanted you to settle down, you were fond of the woman, and you couldn't think of a good reason not to do it."

  A cold chill started at the base of Kent's spine and worked its way up. "Why do you ask me anything?" he muttered. "You seem to know the answers already."

  She arched a silver-tipped eyebrow. "You are simply a typical Wizard—restless, easily bored, and difficult to understand. All the legends say so."

  Both his sister and his ex-wife, Daphne, had described him that way, too. Of course, he hadn't told Daphne about his unusual abilities; never could think up the words to explain it to her. In the end, he was glad he hadn't, although sometimes he thought that if he'd been more honest, they could have salvaged something of their relationship. She'd ended up very hurt, and he'd ended up feeling like a first-class creep.

  "You shouldn't have married one of the others," she told him. Her eyes were filled with age-old wisdom. "It only works in a few cases, and only if you're both willing to compromise." She patted his hand across the table. "My parents' marriage was like that."

  "They were divorced?" Kent guessed.

  "No, of course not." She sipped on her tea. "My fath
er was one of the 'Others.' He was Welsh, but my mother was from Tir nan Og."

  "Where on earth is that?"

  Eaye shook her head. "I have no idea. My mother left there to be with my father." She leaned forward, lowering her voice as if telling him an immense secret. "You can't go back, you know. That's why I've never been there."

  Kent studied the green-tiled floor, fighting his twitching lips.

  "She was one of the Ayaldwode," Faye went on in a normal voice. She scooped a forkful of carrots off her plate. "One of the keepers of the forest."

  "Ah," said Kent. "I suppose you're one, as well."

  "Well, of course!" Faye sounded a bit exasperated. "Not like my mother. She was a water nymph. I take after my grandmother. She was a wood sprite."

  "A wood sprite," he echoed blankly.

  Faye went on. "Even though I'm only part Ayaldwode, I inherit their responsibility. My mother was very clear on that."

  "Was she?" He cleared his throat. "You're the last of the Ayaldwodes, then?"

  "No!" She tilted her head to one side. "At least, I'm not supposed to be. I wasn't raised in Tir nan Og, so there are some things I don't know. My mother said that there were Ayaldwodes all around the world, trying to take care of the forests."

  "In that case, they're not very effective," Kent declared. "All the great forests are in danger these days."

  "I know." Faye sighed. "We are mortal, you know. Pollution and destruction of the forests kill us as easily as they destroy everything else." Her voice saddened. "Now, all we do is preserve what we can, with hopes for a better age, when man will again appreciate what nature has given him and help us take care of it."

  Kent decided it was time to turn the conversation back to reality. "Your father—you mentioned he was Welsh?"

  "He was, yes. He was a sweet, gentle man. Very kind, very clever. My mother heard of his work, and left Tir nan Og to help him."

  Kent focused on the parts of her response he could understand. "What was your father's work?"

  "He wanted to find a solution for the water-pollution problems of the world. He devoted his whole life to it. We all worked on it. Since my mother was a water nymph, she desperately wanted him to succeed. But he didn't. Actually, he made things worse." She sucked in her bottom lip. "He didn't realize what we'd done until it was too late."