by Emma Holly
"No luck," he said a minute later. "We'll have to track his earlier history some other way."
"You know where he went to college?" Alex asked Zoe.
Zoe looked embarrassed. "He never mentioned it."
Her acting like it was her fault she didn't know this joker better stole the last of his patience.
"Let me," he said to Bryan, dragging the chair back with him in it. Bryan ceded his place with an eye roll that Alex ignored. Maybe his gut couldn't be trusted in this particular instance, and maybe Zoe liking Magnus more than Alex thought she should wasn't a real basis for mistrust. All the same, it had struck him from their first meeting that there was something off about the guy. Magnus was too damn big and smiley to be for real.
He cracked his knuckles and set to work, his fingers flying as deftly over the keys as they'd once sent passes spiraling down the football field. Voter registration was kind enough to supply Magnus's Social Security number, always a useful snippet for a search. Then Alex thought, What does it mean when you can't trace someone's history more than ten years?.
Maybe that they used to be someone else.
Grinning to himself, he pulled up Social Security's Master Death File. What he found there was exciting enough to have him splitting his browser's screen. Muttering to himself, he took a little jaunt through an old DMV database. When the license he wanted finished loading, and he compared the pages side by side, he knew he'd scored a Hail Mary.
"Gotcha!" he crowed. "Take a look at this, guys. The real Magnus Monroe was a skinny carrottop who died in 1992. The one you know is a fake!"
He remembered a little too late that Zoe might not be as happy as he was to hear this news. With an effort, he dialed back the cheer in his voice.
"I need a current picture of him," he said to Zoe, who was gaping at him from the table. "Maybe our contact at the FBI can find a match for his face."
"The FBI?" Bryan put his hand on Alex's shoulder, pulling his gaze back to him. "Alex, I know you don't like this guy, but I can't let you mislead Zoe this way."
"What are you talking about? I've got him. The real Magnus Monroe is dead. Zoe's friend could be anyone."
"Alex, the screen says 'record not found.' "
His tone was so certain and his eyes so sad that Alex had to check the laptop again. The incriminating and slightly pop-eyed picture of the red-haired man remained exactly where he'd left it. Alex's neck prickled for the third time that evening.
"What's wrong with you?" he asked Bryan. "It's right there as plain as day. The Social Security record. The DMV photo."
Zoe came over to see for herself.
"It's right there," Alex assured her, as if she, too, might deny its reality.
Zoe bent close to read the screen, then turned to Bryan. "It is right there. Why would you want to hide this from me?"
Bryan began to look confused. "It's blank. I swear, you two, Magnus Monroe is exactly who he says he is."
Then he backed away from them and sat on the bed.
"I don't think he's joking," Zoe said. "I think he really can't read the screen."
"But why wouldn't…" Alex trailed off, his brain slowing to a crawl, until he almost heard the took, tock, took of its gears turning. He'd been trying to push the incident from his mind, but the voice at the falls came back to him, the one that had mistaken him for Magnus and told him to come home. Fairy Falls had figured heavily in the dotty old lady stories that he'd read at the Courier. If the fairies weren't galloping out of the falls on their white stallions, they'd been haunting the woods nearby. He hated to admit it, but maybe Fairy Falls was more than a name. Maybe real live fairies were traveling back and forth.
And maybe Magnus was one of them.
"Oh, God," he said, his face gone hot with embarrassment, though he hadn't said one crazy thought out loud.
Except… someone had cast some sort of spell on Zoe at the falls, and if not a fairy, then what? Maybe Magnus had found a similar magical means of protecting his bogus records from inquiring eyes, and maybe he and Zoe were immune because they were Fairyville natives.
Alex had seen a little fairy at the falls, complete with wings. Possibly it had been part delusion, but could he truly be certain big fairies weren't real?
"Oh, God," he said, this time just to Zoe. "I so don't want to share my theory about this…"
At some point during Alex's story, Zoe sat beside Bryan on the bed. This tale was too wild to take standing up.
"If Magnus really is a fairy," she said, the words faltering a little on their way out. "Wouldn't someone have noticed? Wouldn't being a magical creature make him stand out?"
"People find ways to account for what they don't understand. If his power is making people not see things… I mean, how can you explain Bryan thinking that screen is blank? And you said yourself his business is successful. Maybe he's working some sort of money mojo, too."
"He's very charming," Zoe justified.
"And what if it's fairy charm? Look, I know this sounds crazy, but you of all people know the value of an open mind."
Zoe did know. She simply wasn't comfortable admitting the world might be even stranger than she'd given it credit for. She smoothed the towel down her thighs, wishing she'd put on something more armorlike. Sighing, she asked what she had to.
"What exactly did the newspaper stories say?"
Alex handed her a sheaf of copies, which he'd probably sweet-talked some intern to make for him. "Here," he said. "These are the original transcripts of the interviews. Basically, these old ladies are repeating stories from when Fairyville was more like a ghost town, about how handsome men used to ride out of Fairy to seduce young girls."
"On the fall moon," Zoe said, skimming down the page. "It says here they had to win a maiden's heart, and if they did, they could remain in the forest, dallying with their new girlfriend for the full month."
Oh, Lord. Her back tightened as if it wanted to shiver but couldn't quite. Was this the reason Magnus slept with a different woman on each full moon? Could it really be as simple and as insane as that?
She had to admit him being a fairy would explain some of his quirks.
Alex reached over to flip through the stack for the page he wanted. "One of the old ladies says that if the parents of the girl came to look for her, the fairies could make themselves invisible. The girls could still see them, but the parents couldn't. It was like they'd been hypnotized."
Zoe's eyes refused to focus on the passage he'd pointed out, though she didn't doubt what he said was there. "Why haven't my fairies mentioned this? Surely they can spot an imposter."
Alex shrugged. "I don't know. Bad blood maybe. Your fairy queen did call Magnus's mother 'The Evil One.' And if his mother isn't a ghost but actually a fairy, that would probably make him one, too."
"Jesus," Zoe said, which showed how flummoxed she was. She'd never liked taking that name in vain.
"Guys," Bryan interrupted in a firm but patient tone. "The. Screen. Is. Blank."
Zoe knew she couldn't leave him in his confusion.
"Come back and look again," she said. "With me this time."
She pulled him gently behind her, coaxing his arms around her waist until his body touched hers above the towel. He and Alex had only pulled on their trousers, and his upper body was bare. It was odd to feel his warm skin and chest hair in this context, but she pushed off the distraction. Closing her eyes, she imagined her aura getting bigger and brighter and blending with Bryan's. It was a trick her old mentor had taught her to goose up another person's psychic sensitivities—assuming they had a few to start with.
"Look over my shoulder," she said, hoping this would work for Bryan. "Tell me what you see now."
"It's still showing no—" Suddenly Bryan stiffened. "Shit." He blinked so hard she heard his eyelids click. "It's there. Magnus Monroe is a fraud."
Zoe didn't want to say it, but she did. "We have to call him on this."
Bryan's arms were still circling her. They tight
ened comfortingly. "The explanation might not be as bad as you think."
He didn't sound like he believed it, but he was sweet. Alex rubbed his hand up and down Bryan's muscled arm. Oddly enough, Zoe got the impression that he was trying to reassure her, too.
"It's nearly midnight," her old boyfriend said. "Nobody's going to call anybody on anything until tomorrow."
The men exchanged glances, then looked at her.
"You'll stay here tonight," Alex said, not letting it be a question.
Zoe flushed. Maybe this discovery should have changed her feelings about Magnus, and maybe she wouldn't have minded playing a bit more with Alex and Bryan, but what would she think of herself if she let her heart's decision be so easily swayed?
It hadn't swayed anyway. Scary though it was, when she looked inside herself, it was still Magnus she yearned for.
"I don't think—" she began, and then Bryan silenced her with a gentle hug.
"Just stay to snuggle," he said. "No night as special as we had should end with bad feelings."
* * *
Chapter Seventeen
Magnus needed a couple of cooperative ghosts to finish baiting the trap he was constructing in his faux sweat lodge. Calling spirits wasn't his area of expertise, nor was he certain ten in the morning was the best time for it, so luckily he had Zoe's hair to act as his lure. If the personal essence of a top-notch medium couldn't bring ghosts out of the ethers, he didn't know what would.
"You're too tense," the boy fairy, Samuel, critiqued from his seat on Magnus's left shoulder. "Zoe's always more relaxed than this."
Magnus opened one eye to glare at him. It hadn't been his idea to have company, but "Samuel the Stubborn," as the green-clad fairy had dubbed himself, was doing his best to live up to his name.
"Zoe's had years of practice," Magnus pointed out. "And I doubt she's ever tried to open up a hot spot for infernal beings to attack her through."
Unimpressed by the complaint, Samuel swung his feet against Magnus's collarbone. "You've already decided to do it, and you know all the reasons why. It's pointless to drag your heels because you're pretty sure it won't be fun."
Magnus was unable to argue that. This wasn't going to be fun, but it was necessary, and if Magnus did it right, it would get his mother off Zoe's case for good. With that to brace him, he drew a slow, deep breath and tried to relax.
"Oh, for magic's sake," Samuel cried, jumping up before Magnus had a chance to fully blow out the breath. "I'll do it."
Samuel's idea of doing it was crying "Here, ghostie!" at the top of his little lungs. "Send messages to your loved ones! Tell them you forgive them and you're all right! Arizona's hottest medium is here for you!"
"You're lying to them," Magnus hissed, taken aback. His plan had been to enlist willing participants.
"Oh, boo hoo," Samuel shot back in an undertone. "We're only going to get a bunch of stupid newbies. They haven't got anything important to say anyway."
With barely a pause, he filled his diminutive chest with air and continued his shrieking pitch. "No waiting! No being pushed aside like a pesky fly! All chatty ghosties will get their say!"
Apparently "Samuel the Shrill" was capable of piercing multiple dimensions with his fairy call. Magnus had just long enough to contemplate plugging his ears when at least a dozen wavering spirits showed up in a clump in his lodge's dome, every one talking at top speed. Magnus couldn't make out a single word, but that didn't discourage them. In half a minute their combined spectral force had dropped the temperature ten degrees.
"There," Samuel said, swiping his palms against each other in satisfaction. "Now just let them go on for about five minutes. Their vibrations will create a thin spot a baby minion could get through."
Magnus eyed the nattering ghosts uneasily. He had a feeling letting them talk long enough wasn't going to be the issue.
Titania sat at the dragonbone desk beside the window in her private tower. Outside, the sun was setting over her realm, its picture-perfect hills and castles bathed in scarlet and tangerine. She was mulling over the entertainment for her upcoming new moon ball. Normally, this would have soothed her. Six young fairies were coming into their full power tonight. Given the aptitude of her line for using charm in bed, she ought to be able to seduce a couple during the festivities. One could never have too many carnally enchanted allies, and if they sprang from the next generation, all the better.
It went without saying that Titania's rule was supreme, but that didn't mean she could ignore the rising grumbles of discontent from those nobles who—like her—numbered their centuries and not their years. Young flesh was more amenable to influence, if only because it required so much sex to be satisfied. Sadly, the thought of enjoying that flesh tonight did not improve her mood. She was a queen, and her crown lay heavy. Mere physical pleasure could not lighten it, not when her foolish son hadn't been spotted in three whole months.
At her flare of anger, a tiny crack sizzled across the nearest windowpane.
Somehow, her sister Elena had found out about Titania's unsuccessful attempt to woo Magnus through the portal. Now she was spreading the story of Titania's failure to all her friends—including the fact that it was Magnus's love for a human female that kept him there. Elena had the gall to declare her opinion that this was romantic, though this wouldn't surprise anyone. Ever since her adoption of a changeling boy, Titania's sister had been soft in the head.
The sound of further crackling drew her attention to the network of jagged lines now riddling the window glass. Titania waved her fingers at it impatiently, but was interrupted before her magic could mend the damage. One of her minions was materializing in a smoky mass above her black mirrored floor.
Hoping it wouldn't take forever, Titania turned in her chair.
"Your Luminescence," it said unctuously once its mouth had formed. "We have good news."
"You had better," she snapped. "Otherwise, I may rethink my policy of not sending servants to my torturers."
This policy had been honored in the breach more than once—as her minions had cause to know.
"Your Gloriousness," this one said with a fawning bow. "We elementals would rather serve our queen in hell than any empress in heaven."
"Of course you would. Now tell me where you've found my son."
The minion's billowing body drew back slightly. "Er," it said. "Bodacious One, it is not your son we've found, but the deceitful human woman who stole his loyalty."
Titania narrowed her eyes. She didn't like being contradicted any more than she liked being given indecipherable human compliments. Nervous, the minion bared the white razor teeth that always looked too solid to belong to it.
"If you cannot part your son from her," it suggested, "surely you can part her from him."
"And how do you propose I do that? Considering my doubt-spell worked so well last time."
"The little fairies were protecting her. This time she is alone. We were hoping… that is, we think it might be advisable if you gave us leave to play hardball."
"Hardball?" she repeated, frowning at what was probably human slang.
"A more final solution," the minion translated delicately.
Titania pushed from her gilded chair. This euphemism she understood. She pressed steepled fingers before her mouth. Her soul ought to be quailing. Murder was serious btxsiness even for her. Then again, given the superiority of fairy lovers, this human might cling to Magnus even under torture—and who knew when another chance to get her alone would come?
She paced to the ancient tapestry that hung on her tower's curved wall, a masterpiece whose tiny figures moved and danced when she drew near. It had been created by the little fey, former subjects who now defended this woman.
Was it really murder if her victim was a human? And was it really wrong if it saved her son?
As queen, Titania enjoyed not only her personal power but the power that passed with the throne. Once upon a time, her husband's defection had threatened her positio
n, but she had recovered, and in the years that followed she had arranged this realm exactly as she liked. Today, everyone else's magic was subordinate to hers. She might hate to admit it, but her son's support was becoming necessary to sustain that state of affairs. His philosophical oddities aside, Magnus was strong—both in magic and in character. The nobles would never dare band against her if he stood with her.
That he would stand with her she had no doubt. Her son had forgone his chance to abandon her when Jovian left—and he hadn't stayed just because his friends were, like some people said. Once Titania removed his human distraction, Magnus was bound to remember how devoted he was to her.
Really, once she weighed all the factors, her decision was easy.
She turned back to the waiting minion.
"Torture the woman first," she said. "Then, if she persists in refusing to give up my son, you may execute your 'final solution.' I'll watch you from my scrying pool."
The minion bowed deeply. "My queen," it said with seemingly genuine respect. "Obeying your orders will be our pleasure."
The attack came fast and furious, the minions having learned their lesson from their earlier misfire at the Vista Inn. Magnus thanked the Will-Be that the last ghost had been shooed in time, because he got no warning that his attackers were on their way. The minions were simply there in the thin spot the ghosts had made, lobbing fear spells and insults with equal glee. Zoe would be given no opportunity to muster angelic resources—or in this case, Magnus impersonating Zoe with the help of her lock of hair.
The disguise was so good it could have fooled him. Knowing his limits, Magnus had to wonder if Samuel had broken the little fairy pact about not working magic for their former oppressors. Either that, or desperation had sharpened his skills. When he gasped out his feigned confusion at what was going on, he could have sworn Zoe's voice issued from his throat.
For the first ten minutes, he put up a show of resistance. Not only would his mother mistrust a speedy victory, but it would insult Zoe to suggest she'd give up easily.
