Smoke and Mirrors

by Michelle L. Levigne

  "Here we are." Alexi tugged free of her grip and stopped her with both his hands on her shoulders. "You can look, now."

  "Oh..." Megan turned slowly, looking all around.

  They were at the highest point on the ship that anyone could go without breaking a few rules. The deck was small, the railing a simple metal grid, too high to climb easily. She didn't care as she looked up at the moon, and down at all that silver light spread across the water in every direction.

  Alexi never broke his gaze from hers as he stepped backwards and reached for the CD player sitting on a small table set with champagne, chocolates and strawberries. The strains of Rachmaninoff's Rhapsody whispered in the night. He bowed.

  Megan curtseyed and didn't feel at all silly in her pseudo-tux. Her feet stopped hurting and her headache evaporated like mist. She shivered when Alexi put one hand on her hip and twined the fingers of the other through hers.

  They didn't say a thing to each other. She forgot about the moonlight and even the music as she stared into his eyes. They danced even when the music paused between tracks. When the last song finished, they drifted over to the railing and sipped champagne as they looked out over the moonlit ocean. Megan dipped her strawberries into the champagne. She could hardly taste either, lost in wondering how Alexi's lips would taste.

  Too soon, a waiter came to clear the table. He winked at Megan and grinned wide at something Alexi murmured to him, but said nothing as he cleaned up and hurried away.

  "That...was one of the nicest...no, nice isn't the right word." Megan yawned delicately and let Alexi link his arm through hers, as they started down the stairs. "Like a dream come true." She sighed.

  "I hope so," he murmured, so softly she wondered if she only imagined his voice.

  "You are better than the best pal, Alexi. Better than my best friend." She bit her lip against complaining that he hadn't kissed her, but she had ended that dream before he kissed her, hadn't she? If she wouldn't allow it in her fantasies, how could she expect it in real life?

  "I think the champagne is getting to you." He took extra care guiding her around the corner into the next stairwell. They had a long hike to the quarters assigned to performers, deep in the bowels of the ship.

  Megan barely restrained an unladylike snort. The two pieces of dark chocolate she had nibbled had a more energizing, euphoric effect than if she had guzzled the entire bottle of champagne. As it was, she only had the one flute. Now was not the time to tell him that Fae blood made her immune to most Human intoxicants.

  "I'm not ever letting you leave me, you know," she continued.

  "How, boss-lady, are you going to ensure that? Slavery is illegal. Unless you plan on keeping me tied up in your closet between performances?"

  Megan stumbled at the image of Alexi completely helpless, subject to her every whim. No, I'm not that kind of girl!

  She could have sworn he sighed.

  "How about being partners, then, since I'm fresh out of handcuffs and whips?" she retorted.

  "Partners?" Alexi stopped and turned her to face him. His eyes glowed. One of these days, she would have to tell him she could detect magic, and warn him about keeping his Fae reactions hidden. "You're serious?"

  "The way we fit together, the way we work together, like we were made for each other--that's rare. I don't want to lose it. And not just in our act, either," Megan added softly.

  "I'd like that." His eyes actually got misty. "A lot. You have no idea how much your...your friendship means to me, Megan." He gently stroked his hands up and down her arms.

  She shivered, delighted at the certain feeling that when he said "friendship," Alexi meant a whole lot more.

  * * * *

  The next two months were the hardest Megan had ever endured. Glorious, yet painful. She had Alexi all to herself, when they weren't on stage. He protected her from the lechers and she protected him from starry-eyed girls and horny grannies. They explored the towns all along the cruise ship's route and made friends in the tourist shops and restaurants. That was the glorious part.

  The painful part came every night when she said good night and went to bed, alone. She staged the revelation in her head a thousand times, where she revealed her Halfling status and instead of getting angry, Alexi scooped her up in his arms and kissed her. That wasn't so bad--except her daydreams always turned into nightmares. Alexi fled her in disgust. Alexi realized she wanted to jump his bones, and he ran away. Alexi laughed at her when she told him she was falling in love with him. Or else Alexi took her to bed, was thoroughly bored, and ran home to the Enclaves.

  So she didn't tell him. That was only part of the pain.

  The other part came from the dreams that tormented her. Hot dreams. Steamy dreams. Alexi declaring his undying love. Or just his scorching lust. Megan would have settled for setting the sheets on fire. She didn't want to scare Alexi away by declaring her aching hunger for his touch, his kisses, the taste of his mouth and the heat of his arms tight around her. So she didn't tell him.

  Half a loaf was better than starving for the rest of her life, right?

  * * * *

  Two months of cruises was more than enough, yet Alexi grumbled as he packed to leave the boat that last day. He liked having Megan all to himself. True, he had to share her with three audiences each night, a kiddie matinee every other afternoon, and the crew of the ship, who had welcomed them like family. It was the time they had together, alone, just them and the moonlight and the ocean, that he grudged losing.

  He enjoyed the challenge of turning Megan's dreams into reality. Roses on her bed. Dancing in the moonlight. Visiting the same waterfall every time the ship stopped at that particular port. Diet cherry cola and dark chocolate in her dressing room before every show. Any image that came to him through their link, he tried to fulfill. If it wasn't Fixation, it was the next best thing, and he enjoyed it. The best part was, Megan knew he was the one fulfilling her dreams. She hugged him, she walked the deck with her arm linked with his, and she refused whenever an appreciative passenger asked her to dance. What more could a Fae on the run want?

  Besides long months of isolation with Megan, and nothing to do but fulfill the hints of dreams that she kept hidden even from herself?

  Alexi had spent his life warding off relationships. So now that he finally wanted one, he hadn't the slightest idea what to do. Keep going the way they were? Hope Megan made the first move? Tell her what he was and hope she didn't call for the mental health cops?

  The last thing he wanted to do was anger her by revealing how much he wanted to sweep her off her feet and fly her to the moon--literally. There was a nice little spot just on the border between day and night where they had a glorious view of Earthrise and no neighbors for thousands of miles. Isolation, plenty of Megan's favorite things to eat, music, satin sheets and time to bring every one of Megan's dreams past that irritating stopping point--what more could he want?

  That irritating stopping point did more than irritate him. It left him aching. It left him ready to scream some nights when he woke up from one of their shared dreams. Why did Megan always stop her dream just before that long, delicious, steamy slide into ecstasy?

  Last night, however, something had changed between them.

  The memory came back, and Alexi's hands trembled as he zipped up his suitcase. His mouth trembled as he grinned in anticipation. Last night, Megan's dream had them lost in a moonlit glade, the grass thick and lush and cool, the air tingling with magic, filled with falling rose petals and tiny, popping champagne bubbles. Stars spun around them. Music whispered.

  They danced to a music that filled their blood with humming magic more potent than diet cherry cola and dark chocolate mixed. Megan went up on her toes and kissed him. Soft and sweet and lingering. Alexi had felt his feet leave the ground, then hers. They floated in mid-air, slowly rotating around each other, touching only with their lips and their fingertips that clung to each other's shoulders. The glade vanished around them, so they hung suspended in
star-shot space.

  "You're killing me," Megan whimpered, then wrapped her legs and arms tight around him.

  Alexi had taken over the dream then, and as far as he knew, that wasn't possible. All he knew was that he had magicked away their clothes and they continued to tumble through the air, tangling limbs and mouths, learning every particle of each other's body, stroking the flames higher until--

  The dream shattered, moments from completion. Alexi had rolled over onto his back, aching, hardly able to breathe. It could have been the most incredible experience of his life, but it left him feeling empty.

  Dreams weren't enough. It was time to let Megan know how he felt about her. To take their partnership to another level. Why couldn't best pals be lovers, too? He had to stop being a coward and take the risk. Either that, or drive himself insane.

  Megan was well worth the pain of loving and losing. He would make every day with her as glorious as a century together. He would treasure her and care for her and work for her happiness, even as he watched her age and fade and grow frail.

  "If it isn't Fixation," he muttered, "it's the next best thing, and our souls will be together, even when she's gone."

  A year ago, if anyone had told him he would feel that way about any woman, let alone a Human, he would have laughed. And then waited for the lunatic in a dark alley so he could beat the stupidity out of him.

  The time had come to take Megan's dreams and make them reality for both her and him.

  The only problem was, he ran the risk of getting fired and shoved out of her life forever.

  * * * *

  "That's impossible." Megan glared at the psychedelic globe of color where her father's disembodied head floated and rotated. Currently, he hung upside down, his face green and his eyes pink. She hoped he hadn't taken up body-tinting again. While it was only an annoyance and slight embarrassment in the Enclaves, he was living among Humans now. Some of his neighbors might take exception and call the police. Or the nice young men in their white coats.

  "Sorry, sweetheart." Morrigard shrugged, which took talent, since he had no visible shoulders. "It's the Need."

  "I'm a Halfling. I don't get the Need." She plopped down on her bed.

  For the first time in eighty years, Megan had to fight the urge to give in to a massive, earth-shaking temper tantrum. What she needed right now was Desdemona's teasing comfort and a trough-sized triple chocolate sundae. However, her roommate was asleep, courtesy of Morrigard's protective spell that kept outsiders from overhearing or walking in on their communication.

  "If Alexi ever figures out that all my dreams about the two of us...and the fact that he's been able to hear my dreams...and I've been able to broadcast my dreams to him...it's all fueled by Need..." Megan groaned and hid her face in her hands. "How could this happen?"

  "Well..." The communication globe popped and Morrigard stepped through. Fortunately, he was normal coloring: silver-haired, silver-eyed, dressed in an icy blue jogging suit. He sat down on the edge of the bed and put his arm around her shoulders. "I think this time, it's your mother's fault."

  "What?" Megan sat up straight. But not so much that she left the comfort of his arm around her.

  "My best guess is, your mother had some Fae blood. Could explain how she accepted my magic when it got out of control a couple times." He glanced sideways at her and blushed nicely. "Your mother was one in a million, sweetheart."

  "That's about how many women you've seduced," she grumbled. She let him draw her head down to rest on his shoulder.

  Morrigard had the amorous energy of a dozen tomcats, but at least he stuck to one Human woman at a time. And he had a charming tendency to be uncomfortable talking about his romantic activities with his daughter.

  "The thing is, honey, your mother was the only one who ever got pregnant. My guess is, she had enough Fae blood to counteract all my anti-fertilization magic. She sure wanted you badly enough." He sighed. "I sure miss her."

  "Not enough Fae blood to give her long life." Megan sighed, feeling again that flood of regret and longing that always came when she thought of her mother. Then she gasped. "If you're right, I'm not really a Halfling, am I?"

  Morrigard gave her a little shake. "Look at it this way, honey. The guy doesn't suspect yet, and it looks like he really, really likes you."

  "Really likes me and feeling horny are totally different from loving me enough to want to be stuck with me." She hid her face in her hands. "Daddy, what am I going to do?"

  "I don't know. The truth might just send him running for the hills. On the other hand, if the two of you... you know... He's bonded with you and he won't mind when he finds out the truth." He stood up and recreated the psychedelic globe, large enough to step through. "I'm curious why he's so intent on living like a Human, though."

  "His magic energy fields are totally wonky. Sometimes they're so low, he has less magic than a turnip. I think he left the Enclaves so he could figure out how to live like a Human before he's totally without magic."

  "Most Fae would do the opposite. Settle in and make sure they have lots of friends to work magic for them. Or pester every Fae medic available to figure out what's wrong." Morrigard shook his head. "I'm going to look into things, start asking around."

  "Daddy--" Megan gave up. Warning her father and even ordering him point blank to butt out never did any good.

  "Hey, I have to make sure he's good enough for my baby girl." He winked and stepped into the globe. It swirled, scrambling the image like his favorite lava lamp, and then popped with a chiming sound that put her teeth on edge.

  Megan dropped back on the bed and groaned. She was no better off than before she called her father for some advice. True desperation was the only thing that made her admit she needed help.

  All right, so the Need explained all those hot, sweaty, illogical, totally frustrating dreams about Alexi. But that didn't explain why Alexi had been acting out nearly every dream, as far as she had allowed them to go.

  If she let a dream go to the shatter point and beyond, would Alexi dare go that far?

  All right, she admitted it. She wanted a wild man. She wanted Alexi transporting her to the moon without a speck of Fae magic. She wanted Alexi. Nobody but Alexi. How could she tell him so without ruining their friendship?

  No, it was more than friendship. More than best pals. More than partnership. It was almost as if they had skipped the hormonal overload stage and had jumped ahead to a few decades down the road when they could spend time together in private without ripping each other's clothes off. The mental and emotional and--yes, strange as it seemed with a male, especially a Fae male--the intellectual unity were all wonderful. Megan knew she couldn't live without that oneness with Alexi.

  If only she didn't feel as if she had been horribly cheated by not going through the hot, sweaty decades of really fantastic, soul-searing, Earth-shaking, fly-me-to-the-moon sex.

  Chapter Six

  "Partners." Albert raised a glass of champagne, gesturing for Megan and Alexi to go through the double doors into the main auditorium of the Aurora Borealis. "Here's to a great partnership, for a lot of years to come. I think you'll like this, kids."

  Megan nearly snorted, and muffled it in her sip of champagne. If Albert only knew that the "kids" he had taken under his wing were more than triple his age.

  Then she got a good look at the stage, lit with pin spots and colored gels and a variation on the tacky old standby disco ball. Snowflakes and sparks floated around the stage, lit in silver and blue. Screens went transparent and turned opaque as lights behind and in front of them faded in and out, giving the illusion of clouds. The platform and the pillars supporting it were transparent, spotted with glitter, so the stage seemed to float on nothingness or turn solid, depending on the angle of the light.

  It reminded her of that last highly disturbing, hungry dream of her and Alexi and clouds and... She felt hot and kind of melty inside, just remembering a fraction of that dream.

  "The stuff dr
eams are made of," Alexi murmured, and walked past her toward the stage.

  Yeah, I wish my dreams were this real, she thought.

  Alexi stumbled and glanced back at her, one eyebrow quirked. Megan caught her breath. Had he heard her thought? Maybe her dreams coming to life the last few weeks weren't all coincidence? Maybe Need provided extra voltage to her magic, so her dreams had reached him, and he acted them out without realizing it?

  Could it mean Alexi wanted her just as painfully much as she wanted him?

  "Okay, kids, what do you think?" Albert spread his arms, as if to enclose the stage, redesigned to showcase them. He grinned like a proud father whose wife had just delivered triplets.

  "I think we're going to be very happy together," Megan said. She faced Albert, but her gaze focused solely on Alexi, who stood beyond him, down the aisle. "For a long, long time to come. Forever, if that's possible."

  Albert laughed, the satisfied roar of a lion who knew he was king of the jungle. Megan didn't hear any threat in it. As far as Albert was concerned, they were his newest pride and joy, and he was going to take good care of them.

  At least, she hoped her people sense hadn't been turned upside down and inside out by Need.

  Because that same instinct told her that gleam in Alexi's eyes held nothing but heat and promises.

  * * * *

  Rehearsal went perfectly. Megan started to worry when she realized Alexi was using tiny spurts of magic to help their two new illusions when they ran into rough spots. Then it hit her with a pleasant jolt that Alexi's magic had grown steady during the cruise. His magic field no longer flickered and fizzed at inopportune times. Not since he began reacting to her steamy dreams. It stayed steady when they worked together.

  If that wasn't a carte blanche to up the ante between them, Megan didn't know what was. Alexi needed her. It wasn't like she was trapping him. She was like life support for his magic, right? He wasn't in any pain when he played out her dreams, was he? She couldn't possibly be coercing him. She was a Halfling, and according to what her father had found out, he was a pureblood from one of the oldest and strongest Fae family lines. A family line that supposedly held the fabled Eclipse-level talent. So how could a Halfling of dubious magical endowment have any power over someone like Alexi?