by Alyssa Dean
It was a good trick. He really had to admire it, even though he was certain it was going to be the death of him. The two bogus FBI men weren't bothering with guns anymore. Oh, one of them had one in his hand, aimed at Norton and his wife. In his other hand, he was clutching the wrist of the little boy.
The second man was the one with the brains. He had an even better weapon—the gasoline hose. He was calmly and methodically spraying the ground with it, letting gas splash onto the building.
"Kent?" Faye whispered. She'd come up to stand beside him, and was now staring out the window. "Oh, no!" she exclaimed. She clutched his arm. "Matt. He—"
"Oh, great!" Kent said, groaning as Matt leapt out the front door, clutching the shotgun. Kent pictured the shotgun on the ground, and, just to be safe, had it slide out of anyone's reach. The gunman shouted an order, and Matt obediently put his hands behind his neck and moved to stand with Norton.
"Thank you." Faye sighed with a relief that Kent didn't appreciate.
"Are you… involved with that Matt character?" he asked as they watched Taggert move to join the others.
"He sometimes likes to take me places. What should we do now?"
"I don't know." Kent curled his top lip and eyed the sandy-haired Matt. "I don't think Matt is your type, Faye. He's too… uh… aggressive."
"He's really quite sweet," she whispered. "What is that man doing?"
The fellow with the hose had set it down. He now reached into his inside pocket and pulled out an old flip-top windproof lighter. "MacIntyre!" he shouted as he opened the top and flicked it to life. "You've got ten seconds to get out here with the woman."
"I'm surrendering," Kent whispered to Faye. "You go out the back. You can—"
"An Ayaldwode stays with her Wizard," Faye interrupted. "They're looking for me, Kent. They're going to keep at these people until they get me. I can't let them get hurt."
She was frightened, and she was probably in as much danger as these people, but naturally, her first thoughts were of them. Kent's admiration for her took a tremendous leap upward. "You are one brave lady," he muttered.
"Not really." She thrust out her chin and took his hand. "I'm with a Wizard. As soon as we are away from here, you can use your magic and overpower them."
That shouldn't be any problem. He could stop the car whenever he wanted, and he could surely handle two men. "All right," he agreed. "As soon as we drive away from here, we'll take care of them." He bent to give her a quick kiss, then regretfully pulled back. "Don't blow up anything!" he shouted. "We're coming."
"You come out first, MacIntyre, with your hands on top of your head."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Kent mumbled. "I know that." He pushed Faye behind him. "If they start to shoot, don't come out," he whispered. He put his hands in the required position, gritted his teeth and peeked around the door. No one had moved, and the gun was still pointed at Norton's little crowd. Kent took a cautious step outside, then another. Faye crept out behind him.
"Send the woman over here," ordered the man with the lighter. Faye hesitated, he held up the lighter, and she reluctantly wandered over to stand beside the red-haired woman.
The lighter idiot slid his free hand into a pocket. "Take off your jacket," he ordered Kent. "Real slow."
Terrific. All this, and they were going to steal his jacket! Kent sighed resentfully, carefully pulled off his leather jacket and dropped it in the pool of gasoline. At least they'd have to have it cleaned.
"Turn around! Hands on top of your head and don't move an inch."
Kent reluctantly turned his back to Mr. Torch while mentally running through his list of diminishing options. He heard footsteps, then something sharp jabbed into his arm. He glanced over his shoulder, and saw the flickering lick of the flame.
Then it was almost dark, and he was on the ground, and everything was very, very fuzzy.
Chapter Ten
"Miss Alfaye Merline," Collingswood's voice oozed. "I see rumors of your demise were greatly exaggerated!" He pulled the door dosed behind him, nodded at his big blond henchman, and strolled into her living room.
Faye resisted the urge to shrink back in her sofa. She had no reason to be frightened of this man now. She wasn't alone. She had her Wizard with her.
She glanced to her right. Kent was slumped, sideways, beside her. His hands were handcuffed in front of him, although, right now, that precaution didn't appear necessary. His head lolled down so his chin touched his chest, his eyes were only partly open, and his demeanor was that of total exhaustion.
She wasn't quite sure what was wrong with him. He'd been like this ever since he'd collapsed at Norton's garage, and had remained in this stupor throughout the helicopter ride back to her cottage. She hadn't seen anyone do anything to him, and, although she was very frightened, she had every confidence that, sooner or later, her Wizard would regain his strength and defeat the Alchemist once and for all. She just wished he'd hurry up and get on with it.
Collingswood sat down in her green chair and folded his hands in his lap. He raised his voice slightly. "Mr. MacIntyre. How are you feeling?"
Kent's head came up a couple of inches, then fell back down.
"Perfect," Collingswood said, nodding. He looked over at Faye. "There's no point in looking to MacIntyre for help. As you can see, there's not much he can do."
Faye lifted her chin. "He—he's just tired. When he wakes up…"
"He's not going to wake up, Alfaye—at least, not the way you mean. We've given him D4515-12B. Do you know what that is?"
Faye shook her head, as slow, cold tendrils of fear started at her toes and began creeping upward. He couldn't defeat Kent, she assured herself. He couldn't.
"It's actually a formula we were working on to slow the aging process of the skin. Unfortunately, it had a terrible side effect, and had to be shelved."
"Wh-what side effect?" Faye asked apprehensively.
"It slows all your bodily functions, causing debilitating exhaustion." He lifted an eyebrow. "It's pretty much a permanent effect, I'm afraid."
"Wh-why… ?"
"You know why. I don't know how MacIntyre does what he does, but I do know these men I've hired aren't at all eager to tangle with him. After I heard their stories, I realized I would either have to have him shot, or drug him. I needed him alive, so I chose the latter." He nodded with satisfaction. "It appears that I chose right."
Faye looked over at Kent. He made a monumental effort, lifted his head and blinked open two unfocused dark eyes before his head fell again.
"He can hear us," Collingswood told her. "He feels things. He knows what's going on. He just can't do anything about it." His pale green eyes blinked myopically around the room, then focused in on her. "Now, Alfaye, I have a few questions I want answered, and then we'll talk…"
"Y-you're wasting your time," Faye said desperately. "My father is dead now, and I—"
"I know about Glendon's death," he interrupted. "Heart attack, wasn't it?" He lifted an eyebrow at her. "It took a little time, but the people I've hired are fairly efficient. They never would have found this place without following MacIntyre. You and Glendon did a good job hiding yourselves. I really thought you were dead, until you showed up at my labs."
Faye shuddered back into the cushions.
"Don't look like that!" he ordered. "I'm not a sadist. I don't enjoy hurting people. I just want the Mozelle formula. You give it to me, and…"
"I don't know—"
"You know it, all right!" he interjected. "You worked with Glendon developing it. You broke into my labs and destroyed my experiments, changed every record. You couldn't have done that if you didn't know it."
"I won't tell you," Faye whispered. "I won't. I know what you'll do to me, but…"
"Your father said that, too," Collingswood purred. "I changed his mind, and I'll change yours. Don't let it come to that." He took a pen and paper out of his jacket pocket and held them toward her. "Write out the formula. Now. I'm not going to be as
naive as I was last time. I'm going to keep you here while I test it. I can have everything I need here in a few hours, and you seem to have a cute little laboratory in the back of that greenhouse of yours. As long as you cooperate, there'll be no need for any… unpleasant persuasion."
"L-leave h-h-her-r-r-r a-al-lone," Kent stuttered.
Collingswood took no notice of him. "Well?" he prompted. "I'm waiting."
"You don't want to know the Mozelle formula," Faye said desperately. "It's evil. It's—"
"It's also a fabulous weapon that can make me very, very wealthy." His pale eyes glinted impatiently. "I have to have it, Alfaye. I've spent a great deal of money on my own research, and on finding you. My backer is getting impatient for results." He shook the paper in his hand. "Write out the formula."
Faye pressed herself against Kent's arm. His body was cooler than normal, but his touch gave her strength. She tossed back her head. "No. I'm afraid you aren't wise enough to possess Mozelle, Joseph."
Collingswood's thin lips turned down in a fearsome scowl. "How are your legs, Alfaye?"
"M-my legs?" Faye repeated. She put a hand down, touching the scars through the fabric.
"I didn't like doing that to you," Collingswood oozed. "But it was the only way to get Glendon to talk."
Kent muttered an obscenity, tried to stand, and sank back down.
"Perhaps you do need some persuasion." Collingswood glanced over at the burly blond. "My briefcase, please."
The blond handed it over. The room fell silent as the Alchemist clicked open the black case. Faye looked from him, to Kent, to the big blond man. She felt suddenly felt very cold, and almost paralyzed with terror. Something horrible was going to happen, and it was going to happen right now.
Collingswood took a glass vial out of his briefcase, and held it up. Faye's heart stopped beating. "You know what this is, don't you, Alfaye?"
She squeezed her eyes shut, remembering the room, and her father, tied to a chair, watching while Collingswood dropped this substance onto her. "The formula!" Collingswood demanded.
Faye shook her head.
Collingswood slowly got to his feet, and started toward them.
From the way the men acted, Faye could tell they had no idea they were dealing with a Wizard.
They had made some concessions, she admitted as the big blond man unlocked the door to her garden shed. Even though it was very dark, she could see that her rakes, hoes, and shovels had been thrown on the ground outside in an untidy heap. They had also removed all her flowerpots, and her wheelbarrow. However, there were no guards stationed at the door, and the blond didn't bother pulling out a gun before shoving her unceremoniously inside.
After her eyes adjusted to the thick darkness, she could see why. Kent was certainly in no condition to do anything. He remained, as the Alchemist had predicted, in a slumped heap beside the wooden shelving unit, his left hand handcuffed to one of the supports. "Oh, Kent," she whispered.
She darted over to kneel in front of him. His eyes were closed, and the pulse under her searching fingers was light and slow. His body was almost as cold as the concrete pad under her knees. Faye wrapped her arms around him. "Oh, Kent," she said again.
He grunted something, but didn't move.
Faye leaned back on her heels and listened. There was the faint sound of the door to her house closing, then no noise at all, except the wind, howling ominously around the shed. "I know," Faye murmured. "We don't have much time."
She returned her attention to the limp man in her arms. This was not going to be at all easy. She had no idea how to go about doing it, but it was her last, desperate hope, and she was going to give it her best shot. She pressed her lips against his, but they were cold and unresponsive, and his body gave no sign of movement. Faye felt a tingle of alarm, and pushed it away. This simply had to work. She kissed him again, smoothing her hand down his cheek. "Oh, Kent," she breathed for a third time.
His eyelids fluttered slightly and he released a muttered moan. "F-Faye?"
"Yes!" she exclaimed. "Yes, yes, it's me." She kissed him again, caressing his face, his lips, his temple, and smoothing a hand down his shirted chest.
His eyelids flickered again. "Faye?" His tongue came out to touch his lips. "Okay?"
"Yes, yes, I'm okay," she assured him eagerly. "But we have a big problem, Kent. Joseph has the Mozelle formula." She took a breath. "I had to tell him. I had to. I know I shouldn't have, but… I… I couldn't think of anything else to do."
"Not your fault," he moaned through barely open lips. "C-Collings… he…"
"That's right," Faye said sadly. "He was going to do it to you, Kent. He was going to use that acid on you, just like he did to me." She hugged his head against her. "That's what happened to my legs. I know how it feels. I couldn't let him do that to you. I couldn't."
He tried to lift his head, but it lolled back against her chest. "Got away then…"
"Well, yes, but Joseph pretty much let us go. He didn't realize my father hadn't told him everything, and he had his men push our car into a river." She shuddered at the memory. "He couldn't have known that anyone loved by a water nymph can't drown."
"Should have told me," Kent mumbled.
"I couldn't tell you." She folded her arms around him, hugging his chilled body to her. "It was my fault last time, Kent. My father told Joseph the first part of Mozelle because of me. I didn't think you'd help me if you knew."
His head rose off of her shoulder, only to fall again. "Not much help."
"Of course you are!" She took his head between her hands, holding it so she could see it. His eyes were open a very tiny bit, but there was no sign of strength. "You're my Wizard," she reminded him.
His lips flicked in a ghost of a smile. "No." His left hand moved slightly, jangling the chain. "Can't do it." His tongue moistened his lips again. "Tried. Can't."
"Of course you can't," Faye said impatiently. "The drug drained your magnetic field. We have to fix it."
"Can't," he said again, and there was deep despair in his groan. "Effects… permanent."
"Maybe on others, although I'm not convinced. I know it's not nice to say, but I don't think Joseph is much of a chemist." She moved her lips over his, and this time, she felt a tremble of a response. "We are going to restore your power. We have to do it right now, so we'll have to be quiet." She slowly lowered him to the concrete floor. His head lolled to one side, then gradually straightened. She slid her hands under his brown cotton shirt.
His forehead furrowed. "What… ?"
"We have to make love." The sensation of his flesh under hers caused a slow, expectant tingle of reaction. "We have to, Kent. Together, a Wizard and an Ayaldwode are magic. My mother told me that. I think it means that we can restore your power this way."
Kent moaned—a hard, harsh sound of despair. "Can't do that."
Faye hadn't considered that possibility. "You have to," she said desperately. "You have to. Joseph is planning on doing something terrible. He's going to test Mozelle in Miller's pond." She bent to kiss him. "As soon as it's dawn, Mozelle with be activated by the sun's rays. There will be terrible destruction, Kent. Terrible."
He raised his free arm about six inches off the ground before it fell. "Faye…"
"He's taking me with him," Faye went on urgently. "He's taking me with him, and I think he's going to leave me there."
"No…"
"He plans on making it look as if I did it," Faye whispered. "He's going to make it look as if I was doing one of my father's experiments on the pond." The horror of it settled around her, and she fought it. "We have to stop him, Kent. I know we can, as long as I can fix your magnetic field." She pulled her hand out from under his shirt, and fumbled with the clasp on his jeans. "We have to make love," she panted. "We have to…"
His arm lifted off the ground, his cold fingers closing around her wrist. Faye gasped a startled breath of desperation, and looked into his dark, almost-closed eyes. "W-won't work," he slurred. "No Wi
zard, Faye."
"I don't care," she cried. She threw herself onto his limp form, almost sobbing. "I don't care if you're a Wizard or not. I need you now. I need you. Please…"
His hand was on her back now, still cold, but at least there. "I'll… try," he grunted.
That was all Faye needed to hear. She squirmed on top of him, pressing hard, frantic kisses on his lips, encouraged by a faint tremor of response. Then she was kneeling beside him, struggling to remove her slacks, pushing up his shirt, tearing a fingernail as she unzipped his jeans. Her fingers slid impatiently inside to close around him, anticipating the hard, throbbing, masculine flesh she remembered feeling before.
It wasn't going to be that simple, she discovered. He might have been right. This just might not be possible. No! She had to make this happen. She sucked in air, wishing she'd had more experience than their one evening together. Kent had taken charge then, but he was in no condition to do so now. Think, she ordered her panicking brain. Think. She'd been asleep. He had woken her. How had he done that?
She stretched out on his partly-clothed figure, stroking her body against his, and kissed him again. There was definitely a response this time. "We can do this," she murmured. "I can do this." She began squirming down him, unbuttoning has shirt, pressing tentative kisses against his skin. He groaned—a deep, guttural sound of encouragement. She kept going, down his abdomen, down to the unfamiliar sensation of hair, loving his feel, his taste, his scent. Then she was pushing aside his legs, fastening her lips around his now hardening shaft. His body gave a slow, long shudder, and his hand came up to her neck. "Faye!"
Suddenly his need seemed to match her own. He pulled her down to him, his lips closing around a breast while his hand caressed her back with growing urgency. He spoke her name again, as his fingers found the slick sheath between her legs, and his thumb curled into the mat of hair surrounding it, stroking her with impatient desire. Then he was guiding her onto him, and she heard her own voice, purring her pleasure as she felt them join, as she felt him thrust deeper and deeper into her, folding her down to him, holding her as close, as tightly as he could, his lips, his body possessing hers. She sobbed agreement into his ear, moving urgently and instinctively with his rhythm. There was no time for coherent thought; there was just the hot comfort of his maleness, and a flashing regret that she might never experience this again. "Oh, darling," he cried. "Faye!"
