“And that’s what you think you need to do as soon as you can warn your sisters,” he supplied for her. “But I’m not going to let that happen. You don’t need money, you need to stop what you’re doing.”
“I need you to go away and leave us alone,” she said, her voice stronger. She shifted, and he was afraid she was going to try to run for it. He could stop her, of course, without moving. But he was still shaken from their earlier contact, and he couldn’t figure out what had happened. Maybe all that random psychic energy that she and her sisters couldn’t control had managed to get between them and set off sparks. Maybe.
“Too bad. Whatever made you think straw was a good base for gold?”
“It’s traditional in alchemy,” she said stiffly.
“It’s traditional in fairy tales. Rumpelstiltskin, spinning straw into gold. In alchemy you turn base metals into gold. Like lead.”
She blushed. He liked his women sleek and sophisticated, dark-haired and whippet-thin. So what was he doing, fascinated by a pretty little girl who blushed? Besides, he was here for a reason, and getting distracted wasn’t part of his plans.
“It doesn’t work,” she said. “I’ve tried lead, copper, iron, Teflon. None of it works, so I went back to straw.”
“And what happens with straw?”
“It catches on fire.”
He shook his head. “There are laws that govern this sort of thing, and you seem to have no notion what they are. No wonder you’re on the edge of disaster.”
“We’re doing just fine,” she said, shoving her blond curls away from her face, trying to look fierce and failing. “We don’t want you here. I can figure things out on my own, and I don’t need your help. I’m not the total idiot you think I am.”
He was silent a moment. What would happen if he touched her again? Would there be sparks? Or nothing but this mild irritation combined with a surprising rush of attraction? He’d find out before this was over, just out of curiosity. He wasn’t going to do anything about the attraction; he didn’t want to get mixed up with the Fortune spawn if he could help it. But there was something about her that drew him, made him want to …
“I don’t think you’re a total idiot,” he said, banishing his errant thoughts. “You’ve just been living in a vacuum, away from people who could help you.”
“The people who helped us when our parents died? I don’t think so. We can take care of ourselves.”
At that moment a baby rabbit hopped across her feet. She leaned down to pick it up, stroking it. She was something like those bunnies, pretty and soft and seemingly helpless. But she wasn’t, even if she herself wasn’t convinced of it.
“Stop thinking so hard,” he said.
She glanced up at him. Blue eyes, clear and wide and wary. “What do you mean?”
“You’re trying to change him back, and you’re trying too hard. You have to let go, make it instinctive. Think about something else.”
“Like what?”
“Think about how much I annoy you, put the rabbit on the table, and tell me I’m an asshole.”
“You’re an asshole,” she said promptly, setting the rabbit down. A silver fork lay there for a moment, and she stared at it in disbelief, and then a moment later it turned into a lemon.
He shook his head. “You have to stop thinking about things. And one of the first rules of mutability is that you don’t cross elements. Animal turns into animal, mineral to mineral, and so on. You can’t turn a fork into a living animal or even a plant.”
“I just did,” she said smugly. “And I could turn straw into gold.”
“That’s because you didn’t know what you were doing and you were trying too hard. If you cross elements you disrupt everything, and it affects whatever you’re working on, not to mention those around you. Turn it back into a fork.”
“You’re an asshole,” she said promptly, trying it again, but of course the lemon just sat there.
“It’s not an incantation. Think of something besides transmutation.”
“That’s hard to do when I’m thinking how much I’d like to turn you into a toad,” she said. The lemon flattened out to a spoon. A yellow spoon, but it was a step in the right direction.
“I wouldn’t try it if I were you,” he said. “You forget who I am.”
“I don’t know who you are,” she said, cranky. He suspected she didn’t get cranky very often—she didn’t seem to know how to carry it off. “Apart from Elric the Magnificent or something like that. I’m guessing you’re some kind of cheesy charlatan like my father.”
“Really?” She was making him cranky, as well, which was unusual. He’d expected this to be far simpler; he’d show up, stop Lizzie from screwing up the universe, send them all back to Xantippe, and get on with his life. But Elizabeth Alicia Fortune was getting under his skin, and it was enough incentive to make him drop his protective coloring. Just for a moment he was no longer a somewhat staid-looking man in a dark suit—he was a blaze of color and light that could blind the unwary, and then a second later he was ordinary again. Or as ordinary as he could carry off.
She blinked. That was it: she simply blinked at his temporary transformation, and then dismissed it. “I live with a shapeshifter, remember?” she said. “I’m not impressed.”
“That’s because you’re naïve. I didn’t change shape. I simply changed your perceptions.”
“Now that I don’t believe. You can’t alter the way I think,” she said fiercely. She looked at him a little closer, and there was sudden doubt in her eyes. “Can you?”
“Maybe there’s hope for you yet,” he said. “No, neither I nor anyone else can make you think things that aren’t already inside you, not unless you’re particularly empty-headed. But I can alter the way people perceive me. People see what I want them to see. Or not see me at all if I so choose.”
“You can become invisible?”
“You aren’t listening. I don’t become invisible—people just don’t see me.”
“Can I do that?” she asked, fascinated.
“God, I hope not,” he said. “You’re trouble enough as it is.”
She looked oddly pleased at the notion. “So what do you want from me? From us? How do I make you disappear?”
“You need to stop these dangerous experiments and return to your family.”
“Not on your life.”
It was nothing more than he expected. “Then—” The sound of the doorbell cut through his words. “Get rid of him,” he said.
“How do you know it’s a him? Do you have X-ray vision?”
“It’s a him. If you were still enough you’d be able to sense the same thing. And I don’t like him. Get rid of him.”
“It’s probably just a poor UPS man,” Lizzie said, rising. “I ordered some supplies for my workshop a few days ago.”
“I hate to think what kinds of things he’s bringing,” Elric said with a shudder. “We’ll just ignore him and maybe he’ll go away.”
The doorbell had given way to a peremptory pounding on the door, and Elric knew he was no deliveryman in brown shorts. And he didn’t like that at all.
“I’m answering the door,” Lizzie said. “You can turn me into a pillar of salt if you want, but I’m going.”
It wasn’t worth arguing about. He followed her, of course, though she wasn’t aware of him, and he waited behind her left shoulder, out of sight, as she unlocked the front door and opened it. He’d considered keeping it locked, but the man on the other side wasn’t going to give up, and the noise he was making annoyed Elric. The sooner Lizzie faced him, the sooner he’d go away and Elric could get on with his mission.
He moved out of the way as she opened the door, shielding himself from the intruder. The man standing in the doorway was negligible; Elric was sorely tempted to flick his hand in his direction and make him disappear, but he suspected Lizzie wouldn’t like that.
“What took you so long, Lizzie?” the man demanded. “Sometimes I think you’d lose
your head if it wasn’t attached. I tried calling you but your telephones aren’t working.”
“They’re not?” she said, glancing over her shoulder toward the kitchen, looking straight through him, not realizing he was directly behind her.
“I need an answer about the date. You said you were going to tell your sisters about us. July twelfth works best for me—it’s a slow time at work and I can afford to take a couple of days off for a honeymoon without it affecting my career. If your sisters put up a battle, then the next best time is mid-August, but I don’t see what it has to do with them. They don’t like me anyway.”
And who could blame them? Elric thought. He hadn’t paid any attention to the diamond on Lizzie’s left hand. No wonder; it was so small it would take a magnifying glass to see it.
He took another long look at the man who’d interrupted them. Why in the world would Lizzie choose someone like this as a mate? He was handsome enough, Elric supposed, in a toothy, all-American way, but he was quite possibly the most ordinary man Elric had ever seen. He’d always believed everyone had some touch of magic, some hidden gift, no matter how small. For the first time he was beginning to doubt that.
Marriage to a man like this would strip Lizzie’s powers from her and leave her as ordinary as he was. He really ought to encourage her to marry this idiot and abandon her abilities. Safer for everyone.
“Charles, I really can’t talk about this now,” she said. “I’m working on something—”
“Those silly experiments? Honestly, Lizzie, you need to grow out of that—it’s time for you to settle down,” he said with exasperated, condescending affection. “The sooner we get married the sooner you can put all that silly stuff behind you.”
No, Elric really didn’t like Charles, and the fact that he was temporarily engaged to the woman in front of him surely had nothing to do with it.
“I don’t want to argue, Charles. I haven’t had a chance to talk to my sisters—something came up this morning—but I promise as soon as they come home I’ll tell them about our engagement and see if the date works for them. And it’s not that they don’t like you—they don’t know you. I’m just worried they’ll think it too soon—we’ve only been seeing each other for a few weeks.”
“I’m a man who makes up his mind,” he said, smug. “I took one look at you and knew you’d make the perfect wife.”
“Fine. In the meantime I need to—”
“Is someone here?” Charles demanded, suddenly suspicious.
“No,” she said quickly. “I’m just trying to get some work done.”
But Charles had already shoved past her, and Elric moved out of the way so Charles wouldn’t run into him. Someone like Charles would never see him, but even Elric couldn’t make his corporeal form disappear.
Lizzie went racing after Charles into the kitchen, then came to a halt, doubt and confusion on her face. She glanced behind her, looking directly at Elric without seeing him, but for a moment her gaze narrowed, and he wondered if it was possible for her to look past the veil he’d put up. No, she was too young, too untried, and he was too good. But that moment of uncertainty in her blue eyes had been unnerving.
She turned back, and he could see her shoulders relax. “No one’s here, Charles. Don’t you need to be at work?”
“If we’re alone in the house maybe we could go into your bedroom …”
Lizzie’s aversion was so strong it cut through his own illogical fury. “I don’t think so,” she said, taking his arm and pulling him toward the door.
“And you certainly don’t want me watching,” he whispered in her ear. She jumped, banging her elbow against the doorframe.
Charles was already at the door, dutifully enough. “What did you say?”
“Nothing,” she said, rubbing her elbow. “I just said you ought to get to work.”
“I thought you whispered something.”
“Why would I do that?”
Charles, totally without imagination, shrugged. “You sure you’re alone?”
“Do you want to check my bedroom?”
“Not a good idea,” Elric whispered.
“There it is again!” Charles said. “That whispering sound.”
“It’s the wind,” she said. “There’s a storm coming. You need to get back to work.”
“I need to get back to work,” Charles said. He leaned forward and kissed her, a closed-mouth, possessive kiss on Lizzie’s soft mouth, and Elric decided he hated him. Intensely.
“You’ll call me tomorrow,” Lizzie said in the same dulcet tone.
“I’ll call you tomorrow,” Charles said, again as if he’d just thought of it himself. Miss Lizzie had more skills than Elric had realized. What else was she hiding?
He waited until the door was closed behind Charles, waited until he heard the sound of his car drive away, and then he dropped the veil, and Lizzie jumped.
“You do that again,” she said, “and I’ll … make you wish you’d never come here.”
It was too late for that. He looked at Lizzie’s badly kissed mouth, and wondered just how much trouble he was in.
Mare pounded the streets of Salem’s Fork in her blue running shorts, trying to obliterate the morning from her memory. Her argument with Dee was easy to evict, she’d been ignoring Dee’s arguments for years, but that coppery, dusty, sunny dream stayed with her, which was ridiculous. She did not miss Christopher Duncan in the slightest. Crash. What kind of a man had a nickname like that? Especially a guy who rode a motorcycle; there was a vote of confidence for you.
She turned up the path to the top of the mountain and the circle of stones the locals called “the Big Rocks” with “the Great Big Rock” in the center. That was a mistake; she and Crash had made love up there at least a thousand times, maybe more, although they’d only been together for two years, so maybe not, but it had been wonderful. The thought of him made her dizzy now, so when she ran back down the mountain she was in a lousy mood. Stopping at the Greasy Fork diner for a doughnut and orange juice, and having Pauline the waitress point out that eating a doughnut wasn’t good for her, did not improve her morning. Running past Mother’s Tattoos and seeing Mother wave at her gave her the warm wash of peace Mother always did, so that was something, but getting home and hearing Lizzie talking to herself in her workroom and not getting a chance to apologize to her for being snippy at breakfast was awful. What is it with the universe this morning? Mare thought. First with the dust and the daydream and now with the general thwarting. She shook her head and went to shower and then changed into the white overalls she’d painted with the Anti-Pesto logo from The Curse of the Were-Rabbit, put on her black-rimmed, pink-lensed, heart-shaped sunglasses, and then walked the quarter mile to the red plastic wonders of Value Video!!, where things were going to go her way. Or else.
“Hello, Mare!” Dreama, their little blond counter clerk, sang out as Mare stormed in. “Ooooooh, the coveralls look good! Nice job on the Anti-Pesto logo!”
“Thank you.” Mare slammed her bag on the counter. “The universe is behaving badly, so I will be making adjustments.” Then she smiled at Dreama. “You, however, are always good. How’s my favorite apprentice?”
“I’m fine, thank you, Mare,” Dreama said, straightening her baby-blue sweater, her ponytail bobbing.
“Not fine,” Mare said.
Dreama winced. “I’m glorious, thank you, Mare.”
“Damn straight.” Mare patted her shoulder. “So, what’s new at Value Video!!?”
Dreama leaned forward. “There’s this gorgeous guy in the office with William.”
Mare thought, Crash, and then mentally slapped herself. She had no idea where Crash Duncan was, but she was positive he wasn’t in the manager’s office in the Salem’s Fork Value Video!!
Dreama jerked her head at the door that said MANAGER in gold stick-on letters, her round face wide-eyed. “He’s a vice president from headquarters.”
Mare tilted her head and thought about it. Crash had
been gone for a while. There was an off chance he could have made it big and come back as a Value Video!! VP. It didn’t seem like him, but still …
Dreama leaned still closer, her pouty lips parted in wonder. “I think they heard about William trying to off himself.”
“William was not trying to off himself.” Mare frowned at the door, aware of the new threat. “What does the head office want with William? He didn’t try to hang himself in front of the customers.” Of course, if the VP was Crash, it wasn’t a problem. She could take care of Crash.
“The VP looks just like Jude Law.” Dreama sighed, obviously dazzled.
“Oh,” Mare said, fighting her disappointment. Crash didn’t look like Jude Law. Crash looked like a really good-looking biker. Of course, there had never been any chance the VP was Crash. That had been dumb—
“I swear to God,” Dreama said, “I thought it really was Jude. And you want to know what’s funny? His name is Jude. Look.”
Dreama shoved a business card at her and Mare took it. Under the Value Video!! logo it said, JUDE GREEN, VICE PRESIDENT SALES.
“He’s really gorgeous,” Dreama said. “Oh-my-God gorgeous. And he just came back from the Italian office—”
“Value Video!! has an Italian office?” Mare said, stunned.
“So he says ‘ciao’ a lot and it’s so cool,” Dreama said. “And did I say he’s gorgeous?”
“Gorgeous men do not faze us, Dreama,” Mare said, giving the card back, reality making her cranky again. “They are merely flesh and blood, arranged in a pleasing manner. They too shall pass, while we remain immutable and eternal. And, of course, unfazable. That’s why we rule the universe.”
“Yes, Mare,” Dreama said.
Mare gave the situation some thought. Okay, Crash hadn’t come back, but if she played everything right and William didn’t do a reprise with the rope in front of the VP, she might get a raise out of this. She looked around the store, trying to see it from a vice president’s point of view. Aside from the mess of returns on the counter, the place looked pretty good, several customers already there, mostly kids but they were being quiet, nothing to get a VP upset. Mare frowned as the fact of the kids being there registered. “What are all these kids doing in here? What are you doing in here? Get back to school. That’s all we need is the head office busting us for illegal use of high school help.”
Unfortunate Miss Fortunes, The Page 4
