Absolutely Captivated

by Grayson, Kristine

  Travers put a hand to his forehead. “Even though these Powers took your power away?”

  “They didn’t take it away,” Lachesis said. “We voluntarily let it go.”

  He knew that. He had forgotten it. “But your job. They took your job away.”

  “Not permanently,” Atropos said. “We’re trying to earn it back.”

  “What Travers is trying to say...” Zoe looked at him sideways, asking his permission to continue for him. He nodded. “…is that you’re not popular with the Powers right now. Why would they defend you?”

  “Because they’re not real fond of the Faeries,” Clotho said.

  “Very few people are,” Lachesis said.

  “So they’ll take any excuse to fight them,” Atropos said.

  “Even us.” Clotho sounded sad.

  This situation was getting worse and worse. Travers was just getting to know this new world, and it was as screwed up as the one he grew up in. Only he was a lot closer to the crazy governments in the magical world than he was in the real—if he dared call it that—world.

  It was still hard to take, and he felt just as helpless as he did every night when he watched the news.

  So he decided to do something he understood. He slid the soda crackers and Gatorade out of Zoe’s hands, and headed for the bedroom. He, at least, knew how to take care of a child.

  And at the moment, it seemed infinitely simpler than anything else he could do.

  Thirty-two

  Zoe understood the Fates’ logic a lot better than Travers did. She knew that only because she had had an entire lifetime to get used to the magical world. Travers had been around it for less than a week, and he was understandably overwhelmed.

  Still, Zoe felt that the Fates were leaving a few details out, and she felt like they were important details. She was losing patience with the Fates, too. Were they so used to being secretive that they couldn’t trust anyone?

  Or was something larger going on, something that the Fates didn’t want to talk about?

  A murmur of voices came from Kyle’s room. The Fates were still standing behind the couch. They had used it as a shield against Travers. Apparently they didn’t like having anger directed at them—especially not justified anger.

  Now they knew how it felt to do something you thought appropriate at the time and to get punished for it. The Fates had done the same thing to countless others. Perhaps, if the Fates ever did get their job back, they would have a little more compassion.

  Zoe sighed. She clapped her hands together, and the baseball cap appeared on the table before her.

  “This is a protection charm,” she said to the Fates. “I got it just for you. It’s a minor charm, and it won’t last long, but it should take care of you for a few days. Keep it with you, but don’t wear it.”

  She wasn’t sure about the wearing part—Elmer hadn’t mentioned anything about it—but she decided that it was better to be cautious.

  The Fates looked at her in surprise.

  “You’re not going to watch us?” Lachesis asked.

  Zoe shook her head. “Not if you want me to find the wheel.”

  “But we have no magic,” Atropos said.

  “And you told Travers you’d be perfectly safe,” Zoe said.

  “From the Faerie Kings, maybe,” Clotho said, “but what about everyone else? They’re still mad at us.”

  “The charm will protect you from the others,” Zoe said, raising her voice slightly so the Fates could hear her over their low whispers. “At least for a few days. By then, I should at least know where the wheel is.”

  “All right,” Lachesis said, sounding concerned. “But what will we do? Without Kyle—”

  “You should probably lay low,” Zoe said. “Watch some television, read a few books—”

  “We did that at Henri’s,” Atropos said. “There’s a lot to do here.”

  “Most of it costing money,” Zoe said, “and I’m not giving you any. Just relax. You’ll be fine.”

  She picked up the cap and tossed it toward the Fates. Atropos caught it and held it close.

  “I’ll check on you when I’m done each day,” Zoe said. “I’ll keep you apprised of what’s going on.”

  Still the Fates didn’t leave. They stared at Zoe.

  “What?” Zoe asked, knowing they wanted something.

  “Did we do that much damage to young Kyle?” Clotho asked.

  “Yes,” Zoe said.

  “Should we have known better?” Lachesis asked.

  “Yes,” Zoe said, even though she wasn’t quite sure how.

  “Is there some way we can make this up to him?” Atropos asked.

  “I think you might want to stay out of Travers’ way for a few days. That would do a lot toward making this better.” Zoe wasn’t sure what else they could do. They were good-hearted, but they seemed to screw up everything they touched.

  All three Fates nodded at her, then filed out of the room like a choir leaving risers. They opened the door and headed down the hall, single-file, their heads bowed.

  Zoe closed the door after them and leaned on it for a moment. She couldn’t do much more for them. The Fates had made a heck of a choice when they came to the mortal realm without magic.

  She pushed off the door and headed toward the murmur of voices from Kyle’s room. Travers had left that door open as well, and a soft light played across the bed.

  Travers and Kyle were having a serious discussion. Travers held the Gatorade in one hand, and Kyle was holding a half-full glass.

  “How are you?” Zoe asked as she stepped into the room.

  Kyle smiled at her. His skin was its normal color, and he wasn’t flushed or too pale from illness.

  “Better,” he said. “But Dad’s making me go slow on eating. I think I’m okay to have a meal.”

  He probably was, but better to let Travers fuss.

  “I think easy does it is sensible,” Zoe said.

  “Dad says you don’t need him tonight,” Kyle said. “Is that true?

  Zoe felt a pang. Travers wasn’t looking at her. He was fiddling with the crackers.

  He hadn’t spoken to her about not helping. He knew she wanted to get a lot done that day. But she understood it. In fact, she didn’t want to go back to work, either.

  “That’s right,” Zoe said.

  Travers looked at her, his expression open and grateful.

  “There’s very little to do tonight, mostly Web research,” Zoe continued. “I can do that on my own.”

  “I can help with that,” Kyle said, leaning forward.

  “You rest,” Travers said. “Maybe I’ll even order up a movie.”

  “Pay-per-view?” Kyle asked.

  “The hotel has quite a few,” Travers said. “I’m sure there’s something we haven’t seen.”

  Zoe felt a mixture of two emotions. She loved watching Travers with Kyle. The two of them were quite a team. More than a team, actually. A unit. An impenetrable unit.

  And that led to the other feeling. She almost felt jealous. As if she had been thrown over for an evening in a sterile hotel room, watching a bad movie. But she knew it wasn’t that exactly that had her uneasy.

  Instead, it was the realization that no one would ever get close to Travers. Not while his son was around.

  “I need to get going,” Zoe said.

  “You could stay for the movie,” Kyle said.

  Zoe shook her head. “I’ll be back in the morning.”

  She walked over to Kyle. She was going to ruffle his hair and tell him to feel better. Instead, she kissed him on the forehead.

  “You get well, okay?” she said.

  “I’m better already,” he said. It would take Travers a lot of work to keep that boy in bed this evening.

  “You still need rest,” Zoe said, and stood up. She smiled at Travers, about to take her leave.

  He stood, too. “Let me walk you out.”

  She was going to protest, but didn’t have the heart. T
ravers set the Gatorade on the nightstand, and led Zoe out of the bedroom, his hand on her back.

  As they stepped into the living room, Travers pulled Kyle’s door closed.

  “I’m sorry about this,” Travers started, but Zoe put a finger on his lips. A little shiver ran through her. She liked to touch him.

  She moved her finger away. “It’s all right,” she said. “Kyle’s the most important thing.”

  “You’re good with him,” Travers said.

  Zoe shrugged. “I like him.”

  “It’s more than that,” Travers said. “Most people don’t know how to react to him. He’s a smart, intuitive kid and he’s not exactly what people expect from an eleven-year-old. So they either talk to him like an adult or ignore him. You don’t do either. You treat him just like who he is.”

  Zoe couldn’t imagine treating Kyle any other way. “You’re lucky to have him.”

  Travers stuck his hands in his back pockets, and rocked back on his heels. “How come you never had kids?”

  “Excuse me?” Zoe asked. No one had ever asked her that question before.

  “You’re good with Kyle, and that leads me to believe you’d be good with all kinds of kids.” Travers shrugged. “From what I understand of all this magic stuff, you could have had children before your powers manifested. What happened? How come you chose not to?”

  Zoe stared at him. She wasn’t quite sure how to answer him. He was probably the first person she could give the real answer to, the first person who might understand.

  “It was the 1850s,” Zoe said. “Many of my friends died in childbirth or had their health completely ruined. Medical science wasn’t quite the same as it is now, and I had no idea anyone could help me magically.”

  “You chose not to?” Travers sounded surprised. “I thought it was, like, required of women in those days to have children.”

  Zoe straightened. So many people were ignorant of the past. It annoyed her. It annoyed her especially coming from Travers.

  “We had a budding women’s movement in those days,” she said. “It came out of the abolitionist movement, in which I was very active. We had meetings, we tried to get women—the word now is ‘empowered.’ Crap. I can’t remember what we called it then—”

  She found that mildly embarrassing.

  “—anyway, we got women accepted into colleges and law schools and medical schools. We weren’t just fighting for the vote. We were fighting for equal rights. Up until that point, women were considered property of their husbands or fathers, and I wasn’t about to put up with that. I’m not anyone’s property.”

  Travers’ gaze softened. “Indeed you’re not.”

  She drew a breath, forcing herself to think before she spoke next. Was he patronizing her? She couldn’t tell.

  “Besides,” Zoe said, trying to bring the conversation back to the track it had been on before. “I wouldn’t have been a good mother.”

  “You have a lot of empathy,” Travers said. “Most people don’t realize how important that is.”

  Zoe tilted her head. She wasn’t sure what he was getting at. “I didn’t have it a hundred and fifty years ago. I learned how to think about people when I became a private eye. It wouldn’t have worked for me. Children, I mean. I’m developing all backwards. Even if I wanted a child now, I couldn’t have one.”

  Travers nodded. He sighed, then nodded again, almost as if he were having a discussion with himself.

  And yet, he hadn’t said anything about her age. Once again, she’d opened the door, and once again, he hadn’t said a word.

  Proof, she supposed, that he only saw her as someone to train him, someone who was kind and helpful to him and his son.

  “My age doesn’t bother you?” she blurted, and then covered her mouth, a gesture she hadn’t made since she was a schoolgirl. Where had that come from?

  Travers looked as surprised as she felt. “Why would it bother me?” he asked.

  “I’m a lot older than you are,” she said.

  “I’m beginning to realize that a lot of people are,” Travers said. “The Fates have made me realize, however, that age and maturity are not the same thing.”

  “What does that mean?” Zoe asked, again not certain if the offense she felt was a legitimate one.

  “The Fates couldn’t handle what I consider an everyday task, and I would consider them emotionally immature. Yet they can do—or they could do—things I can’t. I guess how you live is a lot more important than how long you live.” Travers gave her a sideways smile. “That’s all.”

  “That’s all?” Zoe asked.

  “That’s all,” Travers said, and leaned back even farther. Was he trying to get out of the conversation.

  “That’s all?” Zoe asked again.

  “Yep,” Travers said. “That’s all.”

  “What she means,” Kyle yelled from the bedroom, “is how come it doesn’t bother you that she’s older than you are.”

  Zoe felt her face heat up. She rolled her eyes. “I guess we should learn not to have conversations like this around Kyle.”

  “Only if we’re broadcasting,” Travers said. He pulled a key out of his pocket, then took her hand and led her out into the hallway, closing the door behind him.

  The hallway was empty, and it seemed to go on forever.

  “Now, even if he does hear us,” Travers said, “he can’t interrupt.”

  Although Zoe had been grateful for that last interruption. Kyle asked the question she was dancing around.

  “So,” she said softly, “does it bother you?”

  “What?” Travers asked.

  “My age,” Zoe said.

  Travers glanced at the door. “Maybe we should have stayed in there.”

  “Why?” Zoe asked.

  “Because there’s no good answer to that question,” Travers said. “If I say yes, then you’ll think I’m intimidated by your age. If I say no, then you’ll think I don’t find you mature enough.”

  “What’s the real answer?” Zoe asked.

  Travers took a deep breath. He seemed to realize that he wouldn’t get out of this conversation until he answered her.

  “The real answer?” he said. “It’s sometimes.”

  “Sometimes?” Zoe asked.

  He nodded. “When I think about all you’ve seen and all you’ve done, I’m fascinated and intimidated. When I think about how easy you are to talk to and how much I enjoy your company, I feel like there’ s no age difference between us at all.”

  “But there is a difference,” Zoe said, resisting the urge to slip her hand in his.

  “Besides the obvious and very fun one?” Travers asked. “Yes, there is. Kyle.”

  Zoe started. She knew that Kyle’s presence bothered Travers, but it didn’t bother her.

  “No,” she said. “I meant the magic. I know so much more about it than you do.”

  “And I know more about corporate tax law,” Travers said. “So what?”

  “So magic is more useful than corporate tax law,” Zoe said.

  Travers grinned. “It hasn’t been in my life. I’ve used corporate tax law a lot more than I’ve used magic. Except this week.”

  Zoe grinned too. She couldn’t help it. She really did enjoy his company.

  “So my age really doesn’t bother you?” she asked again.

  “Not most of the time,” Travers said.

  “Wow.” And before she realized what she was doing, she stood on her toes, leaned forward, and kissed him.

  The kiss was as good as the one they shared in her office. After a moment, Travers’ hands slid around her waist. Her hands wrapped around his neck, and pulled him closer.

  How had she found this man? And why was he so important to her? And why was she even worrying about any of that when he could kiss so very well?

  Down the hall, the elevator doors swooshed open, and both Travers and Zoe jumped back as if they were teenagers caught parking by a cop. Both of them looked down the hall, but the e
lderly couple getting off the elevator didn’t seem to notice them.

  Then Travers’ gaze met Zoe’s.

  “Wow is right,” he said.

  “I know you don’t want someone who won’t stay,” she said, the ideas forming along with the words, “because of Kyle and everything. But I might be the first woman you’ve met to whom years aren’t that important. I mean, if you want to wait because Kyle’s eleven, wait until he’s out of the house, six years—”

  “Seven,” Travers said with a bit of a smile.

  “Seven years isn’t that much to me.” Zoe couldn’t believe how forward she was being. And how very vulnerable she felt. She’d never spoken to any man like this. “And I’m willing to—stay away until then, if you’re worried, that is. I mean, after we find the wheel and get you mildly trained.”

  “Zoe—”

  She kissed him lightly, stopping him. She didn’t want to hear his refusal, not yet. Not when she had just revealed herself like that.

  “Think about it,” she said against his lips. “I’ll see you in the morning. At breakfast. We can talk then.”

  And then she hurried down the hall, trying not to focus on the fact that he hadn’t tried to stop her, and that he wasn’t calling after her.

  By the time, she reached the elevators, she looked back at Travers door. He wasn’t in the hallway any longer.

  She was alone.

  Thirty-three

  “You know, that’s a really stupid rule,” Kyle said.

  He was standing in the living room, his shirt and shorts horribly wrinkled from the bed. Bartholomew Fang was standing near the door to the kitchen, looking expectantly between Travers and Kyle, as if the dog thought it was food time instead of conversation time.

  Travers pulled the hotel room door closed. He still felt shaky from that kiss. Zoe may not have followed a traditional marriage-and-family route in the past 150 years, but she sure learned how to kiss.

  And that intimidated him. How many men had she kissed and how did he stack up?

  “What are you talking about?” Travers asked.

  “That rule you’re thinking about all the time,” Kyle said. “The one about not getting involved with a girl because of me.”