“I appreciate that,” Owen said. “It wasn’t anything important, though, just a passing thought.”
“Some of the greatest innovations come from passing thoughts.”
With great fascination, I watched the two of them talk. They might not have been blood relatives, but they were very much alike. It was a good argument for the “nurture” side of the nature vs. nurture debate. Still, there was something odd about their interaction. James was certainly friendly enough to Owen, but he regarded him more the way he might a work colleague he was on good terms with than he would someone who was the closest thing he had to a son. It was a miracle Owen was as sane as he was, having grown up in a home where he was treated like a guest, even if he was a welcome guest.
James glanced at the clock on the mantel and said, “Lunchtime. Let’s not be late.” He appeared to struggle a little to get out of his chair, but he shook his head firmly when Owen moved to help him.
Arawn followed us to the dining room, then sat in the doorway without entering the room. “He’s not allowed inside,” Owen explained. “He used to beg at the table, so he was banished.”
“And who taught him that habit?” James muttered with a hint of a smile. I had to bite my lip to hold back a giggle as I recalled the way Owen was always giving his cat food off the table. He apparently hadn’t learned his lesson.
The dining room almost took my breath away. It looked like a room on display in one of those historical homes, preserved the way the famous family had once lived there, complete with antique period furnishings and museum-quality china. The china wasn’t just in a display case, either. It was set on the table in place settings right out of an Emily Post book. I got the feeling this wasn’t going to be a soup-and-sandwich lunch. Rod had warned me that the Eatons were formal, but this was more than I expected. My mom certainly had nice china, but it came out of the china cabinet only on major holidays. I wondered if they ate like this all the time.
“You didn’t have to go to all this trouble,” Owen said. I could see the struggle in his face as he tried not to sound critical.
“Nonsense,” Gloria replied in a tone just short of snappish. “You’re company, and you’ve even brought a guest. I don’t get to entertain often these days, so I may as well take advantage of the opportunity.” Then she turned to me and I caught myself popping to attention. “Sit wherever you like, Katie. We don’t have assigned seats in this house.”
I noticed James edging toward a particular chair, so I hesitated and dawdled long enough to get a sense of where the others wanted to sit before I chose a chair. As I looked at the array of dishes, glasses, and silverware, I was glad my mom had taught me all the table rules. Once we were all situated, James said a quick grace, and then Gloria began passing serving dishes around the table.
Before I took my first bite of roasted chicken, I steeled myself for the interrogation I was sure was about to begin. There was a tense atmosphere in the room. In spite of the formal antiques, I had a sense of cold, bare cement, one of those harsh spotlights, and an inquisitor pacing the room in jackboots while slapping a riding crop against her palm. I tried to remain calm and remember the answers I’d mentally prepared about my background, my family, and my plans for the future.
But when the interrogation started, it wasn’t directed at me. “Work is going well?” Gloria asked Owen.
“Well enough,” he replied evenly.
“So Idris and his ally getting away isn’t causing you too many problems?”
Owen exchanged a glance with me. “You know about that?”
“We’re still in the loop, even out here.”
“Then, yes, it is causing us some problems. We’re working to track them down or figure out what they’re up to, but leads are scarce at this time.” He looked down at his plate and picked up a forkful of food.
As soon as Owen turned his attention from her, Gloria’s face softened. There was real concern in her eyes. “I’m sure you’ll catch him soon enough,” she said. “When you do, will you be up to dealing with him?”
Still looking at his plate, he answered, “I believe so. I did the last time.”
“As I recall, you nearly got yourself killed the last time. Didn’t you say it was only because of Katie that you weren’t hurt more seriously?”
I could feel my face growing warm at her mention, but none of them were looking at me. “Katie’s still around,” James said as he served himself another helping of green beans. “It’s her job to notice things like that. That’s why we recruit immunes.”
“We’ve been assigned as a team,” Owen added.
I wondered if I should chime in, but before I could think of anything to contribute to the discussion, Gloria was off on another tangent. “And what does Merlin have to say about all this?”
“It was his idea that we work together. We’re trying to prepare for any possibility, whether Idris just wants to disrupt us or whether he’s really trying to take over the magical world.”
“What do you think he’s doing?” James asked, his voice calm and neutral, but his eyes keenly focused on his foster son.
“I think he’s being used. He’s not the real threat. He may just be a diversion.” He looked directly at them then. “You were around the last time anyone made a real bid for power. How was that dealt with? There’s not a lot in the chronicles.”
James and Gloria exchanged a look that made chills go up and down my spine. If I wasn’t mistaken, they both looked scared to death. Owen frowned and bit his lip, which indicated he’d noticed that look, as well. They held the look for a while, and then Gloria nodded at her husband.
“The situations don’t compare,” James said, his voice as cool and calm as before, but with an edge underneath it. “That was a direct, obvious attempt at domination, while this appears to be a more subversive, oblique approach. We were able to take on those rogues with an all-out magical attack. Your enemy is hiding. This appears to have the makings of a magical guerrilla war.”
“I doubt there’s anything to learn from that particular bit of history,” Gloria added, her voice gentler than before. “There’s not much point in spending a lot of time studying it. You’d be better off talking to Merlin about Mordred and Morgana if you want to study the past. Would anyone care for seconds?”
It was a clear signal that that part of the conversation was over. Owen and I had barely made a dent in our food, and Gloria hadn’t touched hers yet, so I doubted she really felt like she needed to offer seconds. I worked up the nerve to say, “No, thank you, but it’s delicious.” She then turned her laser-sharp gaze on me, as if just then remembering that I was even in the room. I instantly regretted opening my mouth.
“Katie’s a pretty good cook, herself,” Owen said. “She does a lot of baking.”
I thought that would focus the interrogation on me, so I braced myself to describe what I could cook and how I’d learned, but she turned right back to Owen. “How is Rod doing? Is he coming home for Christmas?”
“I think he’s doing okay, but I don’t know what his plans are. We haven’t talked much in a while.”
James and Gloria exchanged another funny look, though this one wasn’t as intense as the one before. “Really?” Gloria asked. “Why not?” I could have sworn that there was a hint of nervousness or uncertainty in her voice, but I couldn’t imagine why that might be.
“We’ve been busy. We keep missing each other at the office, and he’s got his usual extracurricular activities.”
“You two aren’t fighting, are you?”
Owen returned his attention to his plate, shoving food around with his fork. His cheeks had gone bright red. “No, nothing like that. Just life, you know?” I knew he wasn’t telling the whole truth because he and Rod had fought about what had happened between Rod and me when we were under an enchantment, though they’d since worked that out. Gloria didn’t look like she missed much of anything, so I was sure she also knew he was lying, but she didn’t press the issue.
“You mentioned you got your hands on that Welsh codex,” James said, changing the subject abruptly. Then James and Owen were off once more in an academic discussion. I ate while pretending to listen. Gloria was able to make a few comments, but mostly she just listened, too. Once when I glanced in her direction, I could have sworn her eyes glistened with tears while she looked at Owen. Maybe he was onto something about her getting a scary diagnosis.
After lunch, I overrode Gloria’s objections to help clear the table, but she absolutely refused to let me help wash dishes. “You’re our guest. I won’t let you wash dishes until your next visit. Besides, I like washing dishes. The warm water feels good on my hands, and it helps me think. You and Owen should take Arawn for a walk.” In the hallway outside the kitchen, the dog barked in agreement.
We bundled up, then took a short walk up and down the street. Owen didn’t appear to be in a chatty mood, and I didn’t press the point, so we walked mostly in silence. We returned to the house to find dessert being served in the parlor, with hot coffee and tea in a formal silver service.
When we’d all been served, I discovered it was finally my turn to be interrogated by Gloria. She fixed me with a measuring gaze. “So, Katie, as you can well imagine, Owen has told us next to nothing about you other than that you work together and that you’re from out of town. Where were you before you came to New York?”
“I’m from a small town in Texas. I’d lived there all my life, except when I was off at school.”
“And what did you do there?” Her tone wasn’t nearly as sharp with me as it had been with Owen, but I still felt like I’d been hooked to a polygraph machine and this testimony was the only way I might be able to clear my name and avoid life in prison.
“My family owns a farm supply store there, and I worked in the store. I pretty much ran the business from the time I was in high school.”
“Are you planning to stay in New York long?”
“I haven’t been considering it a temporary thing. I love the city. I could see myself settling there.” She nodded like she was happy with the answer, and then I caught her glancing toward Owen. I knew then exactly what was going on. She was a lioness with a cub. Coddling him wouldn’t do him any good in the wild, so she’d be as tough with him as she had to for him to grow up strong and self-sufficient. Meanwhile, she’d defend him to the death against any possible threats, including me. It was funny that, as brilliant as Owen was about so many things, he hadn’t seen this. Then again, she only got that motherly look in her eyes when he wasn’t paying attention.
She eased off on the questioning at that point, and I hoped that meant she didn’t disapprove of me. I had a feeling it would be awhile before she decided to go so far as to actually approve of me, but as long as I was in neutral territory, I figured I was doing okay with her.
When we’d finished with dessert, Gloria said, “We’re attending the early church service this year. We don’t like to stay out too late these days. We’ll have to leave by four-thirty if we want to get a good seat. That leaves us just enough time to relax a little and change clothes.”
It sounded more like an order than a suggestion, so we trooped upstairs obediently. Owen looked like he needed some serious book time, so I left him to his reading and went to prop my still-chilled feet against the radiator in my room.
Just before four, I changed into my planned outfit for the evening, Gemma’s cream-colored cashmere sweater and my black skirt. After I was dressed, I figured I’d better head downstairs. I got the feeling punctuality was essential in this household. I took my gifts with me to put under the Christmas tree that stood in the front window. Owen’s door was still closed as I passed it, and I carefully stepped over the squeaky spot in the hallway so I wouldn’t disturb him.
Downstairs in the parlor, I checked the tags on the gifts under the Christmas tree to find the appropriate piles, then added my gifts. I couldn’t help but notice that there were two gifts there with my name on them. Then I sat and communed with Arawn while I waited for the others. James joined me first, and we made stiff small talk until Gloria and Owen came downstairs. Gloria then hustled us outside to the car. Owen drove, and Gloria insisted I sit in the front with him while she and James took the backseat.
The church in the heart of the village looked like something you’d see on the front of a Christmas card. It was built of stone with a snow-dusted slate roof and red-bowed evergreen wreaths on the arched front doors. The congregation, however, was like nothing I’d seen before. It was a mix of every kind of magical person I’d encountered. There was a special raised seating area near the front for the gnomes. Elves and fairies were mixed in among the humans. Gargoyles perched on the backs of pews. I wasn’t sure if they were local or if they were part of the MSI security detail. The sense of power inside the church was so strong it felt like my hair was standing on end.
Once we started singing carols, I learned that Owen had a very nice singing voice. It made me self-conscious about the fact that I couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket. I fought off the feelings of inadequacy that always seemed to lurk where Owen was concerned. He was so perfect, so good at almost everything, that it was often difficult to imagine him being interested in me. But he was interested and had made that clear, and he wasn’t entirely perfect now that I knew him better. For one thing, he was kind of an emotional basket case, for reasons that were becoming increasingly obvious.
But that little vulnerability only made him more interesting to me. What woman could resist a handsome, wealthy, powerful, nice man who was also just a tiny bit broken inside? It meant that in spite of him seemingly having everything, there was something he still needed from me. He might have been ultrapowerful, but I couldn’t help wanting to protect him.
The service ended with an announcement that there would be a reception in the church hall. “We’ll make a token appearance, but we won’t stay long,” Gloria whispered to us as we gathered our coats and followed the crowd out of the sanctuary. The hall was in a more modern building that still wasn’t very new, and it had fake walnut paneling on the walls and yellowed linoleum on the floor. It looked a lot like most church halls I’d seen. A couple of folding tables with red and green paper tablecloths on them stood down one side of the room. One held trays of Christmas cookies and cupcakes while another held a punch bowl, a tea service, and a coffee urn. As we hung our coats on pegs near the doorway, Gloria hissed, “Now, remember, just greet people, have a cookie, and then we’ll go home. Don’t spoil your dinner.”
“She hates these things, but she feels obligated,” Owen confided to me as soon as Gloria had pasted a smile on her face and moved ahead to make a circuit of the room. “She thinks social chitchat is a waste of time.”
“I kind of have to agree with her there,” I said, but before I could add anything, we were surrounded.
“Look at you, all grown up,” said a gnome who stood craning his neck to look up at Owen. “I remember when you only came up to my shoulder.”
The other locals then chimed in about how good it was to have Owen back for a visit. He blushed bashfully, but he didn’t seem too taken aback. Apparently these were all people he knew and was comfortable with. I caught his eye and mimed drinking a cup of coffee, and he responded with a nod and a smile before returning to his conversation.
I made my way over to the refreshment table, where the cookies sat practically untouched. Back home, that would have been the ultimate insult to the cooks who’d made them, so I took a couple, just to be polite, of course. “And I’d thought we might not have enough,” a voice behind me said. I turned to see the minister, still in the black robe he’d worn for the service. “You’re a friend of the Eatons?” he asked.
“I work with Owen,” I explained. “I couldn’t get home for Christmas, so they invited me to join them.”
He nodded, and the smile he gave me echoed the disbelief I’d seen from everyone I’d told that story. He knew I must be more than a co-worker, and I was being
investigated by the folks. “It’s nice to see him have friends,” he said, putting a funny little emphasis on the word “friends.” “He was always a quiet one.” He glanced over his shoulder toward the person we were talking about, then blinked. I couldn’t blame him. I was pretty sure I’d blinked, too, when I followed his gaze.
The older people and creatures who’d been fussing over Owen were gone, and he was instead surrounded by a gaggle of young women who looked like they’d stumbled onto a rock star. He was backing slowly away from them, but if he didn’t escape soon, they were likely to tear the clothes off him. The only thing keeping him relatively safe was the fact that the mothers of all the young women were also involved, running interference to keep the others out of the way of their daughters. Handbags flew with a fury I’d only seen before at a designer sample sale Gemma had once dragged me to.
The mob moved in my general direction, possibly because Owen instinctively headed toward me. I wasn’t sure how I could help. It didn’t look like that bunch was going to be fended off by me stepping up and declaring that I was his girlfriend. That would probably only make things uglier.
“Ladies, ladies,” the minister urged, “this isn’t the time or place.” A frosted snowman cookie then splatted against his festive purple stole. I couldn’t believe it. All these WASPy magical types were starting a food fight in the church hall. I hurried to get on the other side of the food table, out of the range of fire, as the women pelted each other with food. Owen wisely took advantage of the opportunity to duck under one of the tables. If I wasn’t mistaken, he’d also gone invisible at the same time. I was sure I felt the tingle of magic in use.
But it was more magic than I’d expect for a simple invisibility spell. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up, and I had shivers going down my spine. That meant a lot of magic was flying around the room. I looked to see if I could find James and Gloria. James was standing in a corner, chatting with some of the other older men while drinking coffee, seemingly oblivious to the chaos—or else pointedly ignoring it. Gloria did not look amused. She was trying to drag one of the mothers away from the melee. I was impressed with the way she managed to avoid being hit by any of the flying cupcakes or cookies.
Damsel Under Stress Page 11
