THE RISK OF LOVE AND MAGIC

by Patricia Rice

“No cameras allowed,” he told one freak who was apparently taking cell-phone photos of everything in sight in hopes of accidentally capturing anything interesting. Magnus knocked the phone to the floor, stomped on it, and made his way toward the ladies’ room. He couldn’t leave Nadine trapped or let her walk out into this melee.

  Oz followed in his path. “Syrene has been off the market for years. What’s with these morons anyway?”

  A professional photographer with a real camera around his neck shoved through the crowd on their heels. Magnus turned abruptly, and the jerk crashed into him. Which gave him a fine excuse to chest bump the pricey piece of equipment, knocking its lens askew. “Oops. Let me fix that for you.” He broke the strap holding the camera and twisted off the scope. “Here ya go.”

  The photographer screamed bloody murder and swung at him. Grinning, Magnus swung back, propelling the photographer into the mob behind him.

  “Oh goody,” Oz muttered. “I haven’t done this in ages.” He kneed the next guy trying to get past him and put up his fists. “Bar fight!” he yelled.

  Shouts of “We want Syrene” echoed off the high metal beams of the ceiling. Magnus knew a lost cause when he saw one. Nadine was more important than convincing a crowd that Syrene didn’t exist.

  The women waiting in line looked as if they’d like to bar him from their watering hole, but Magnus produced a scowl fierce enough to frighten Maori warriors. When they retreated, he barged into the ladies’ room, scattering screaming women. “Nadine!” he shouted.

  No chirpy Librarian replied. The open window at the rear of the room spoke for itself. Counting to ten, Magnus swung around and dodged back to the hall. He grabbed Oz’s collar and dragged him toward the back door while the brawl continued uninterrupted on the other end.

  “If she’s gone, I get to murder you, right?” he asked as big brother staggered, jerked free, and punched his ribs in retaliation.

  “You need more confidence in your woman,” Oz scoffed as security bore down on them, looking grim.

  “My woman?” Magnus pondered that as they retreated. His woman. La Loca?

  He knew he was in trouble when the idea warmed him with pleasure. With enthusiasm, he punched out a security guard keeping him from reaching his woman.

  ***

  “So, okay, Syrene is dead to the world, and like a phoenix, Pippa the Philanthropist has risen in her place,” Nadine summarized, chewing on popcorn they’d bought from a vendor while waiting.

  “Not much of a philanthropist,” Pippa said dismissively. “I just encourage people to do what they need to do.”

  “With your voice,” Nadine said. “You persuade and charm and cajole with your Malcolm talent, and people do what you ask. I like that. That’s a really useful talent. I want one like that.”

  “No, you don’t. I’ve driven men to their death with that gift. I don’t even know it’s happening half the time. Oz is the one who showed me what I was doing. We’re freaks of nature.”

  “And now you hide from the world because chaos erupts when people see you and recognize the famous rock star Syrene.” Nadine pondered that for a moment and saw the downside. “I know what hiding is like and it’s tough. It would be a lot more useful if I could project thoughts instead of reading them. I could shut up the mob before it got started, divert them to something more interesting.”

  Pippa laughed. “Then you’d have to be my bodyguard. If you like, I could sing and make them all cry, but then they’d know Syrene still exists, instead of just hoping I’m hanging around. Not a wise idea.”

  “Pity that. You might want to try it on the two simmering hulks approaching.” Nadine nodded toward the big men storming down the alley.

  “They’re just worried about us,” Pippa said with a shrug. “They’ll calm down now.”

  “Mad Max is vibrating again. I don’t think that’s calm.” Nadine watched in admiration as the two Oswin brothers scanned the parking lot and immediately located them sitting in the shadows. “Got any songs for this situation?”

  Pippa began singing a silly song about monkeys walking down the street. It sounded cheerful. The men didn’t appear to be cheered.

  “Oswins don’t respond well to my voice,” Pippa explained. “You’re not sounding very cheerful either, so I assume I can’t persuade you into running into Mad Max’s arms and placating his vibrations.”

  Nadine snickered as the elegant, sophisticated producer’s wife resorted to her nickname for Magnus. “I adore his vibrations, even if it means he’s going into obsessive protective mode.”

  “Conan says Magnus has a Zorro complex. Oz just steps back and lets him go, then cleans up the result afterward. Personally, I think he’s more the Lone Ranger type, riding in to save the day and disappearing into the sunset. No flashy Z’s carved into the furniture.”

  Having spent her childhood with computers and not old movies, Nadine had only a small understanding of what Pippa was talking about. Besides, she was more interested in watching Magnus approach with that male swagger he adopted when suppressing explosive emotion. Really, it was a wonder the ground didn’t shake.

  “Want to find another dancing spot?” was all he asked when he arrived.

  The rumble of his deep voice and his heated look and his acceptance that she hadn’t been at fault ignited a core she’d thought long gone cold. “I think I’ve had enough excitement for the evening. How about you?”

  His lips curved upward a fraction. “You’re excitement enough for me. Did Pippa threaten to throw the fire alarm again?” he asked, glaring at his sister-in-law.

  “I had alternatives prepared,” Pippa responded serenely. “I just didn’t think you’d like them.”

  Oz helped his wife from the curb and grabbed a handful of her popcorn. “Find a song for causing mass memory blackouts of Syrene, and we’re good.”

  “They’ve been fighting,” Nadine concluded, standing up without aid since she’d removed her heels and was barefoot. “Lesson learned. If we don’t want them to yell at us, give them someone else to beat up.”

  “I don’t beat up women,” Magnus objected.

  “Nah, he beats up cameras,” Oz explained. “A few people are going to have a hard time explaining crushed phones come morning. If only we could paint him green, we’d have a hit.”

  Pippa giggled. Nadine actually caught this pop culture reference and could appreciate the image of the giant green Hulk busting through his shirt. She held Magnus’s arm and tugged her shoes back on. “Someone needs to send me the videos of all these shows everyone talks about. I have a lot of catching up to do. Start with Zorro, please.”

  “I am not Zorro. We’re riding off in a Jag XKE, not on a horse. And next time you’re bored, Pippa, just invite us to visit. It’s easier on the knuckles.” Holding Nadine’s hand to his arm, Magnus pulled out his phone to call the driver.

  “It’s been fun and informative,” Nadine said in farewell. “Call me anytime you want to start another riot.”

  “Will do,” Pippa agreed cheerfully, striding away ahead of Oz, forcing him to catch up.

  “I want to be her when I grow up,” Nadine told Magnus when he clicked off the phone.

  “Pippa’s one of a kind. So are you. Leave it at that.” He dragged her toward the street as the music began pounding again inside the club. “Sure you don’t want to dance some more?”

  “I doubt they’ll let you live if you go back inside. We can dance at home. You really think I’m one of a kind?” Nadine asked, uncertain if that was a good or bad thing—or why she cared what he thought.

  “Unique,” he agreed. “We ought to label you and put you in a museum.”

  She snorted. “Yeah, that’s what Jo-jo tried to do. Thanks.”

  “You’re rare,” he asserted, dragging her toward the alley where the car waited. “It’s instinctive to want to protect what’s precious.”

  “Precious? Hardly.” Although she thrilled a little that Magnus thought her so. Stupid female reaction. “I�
��m nowhere near as talented as Pippa. Mind reading is pretty useless when it means I have to wait for other people to tell me their thoughts. And even then, I can’t do anything about them. Speech is more effective.”

  “You got inside the general’s mind the other night,” he reminded her. “You just don’t like doing it.”

  “You believe me?” she asked warily. He’d been pretty ambiguous about her gift.

  “I don’t think you’re a liar, much,” he agreed.

  Magnus was not a black-and-white sort of thinker, and yeah, she’d probably lied a few times, here and there. She couldn’t argue his point.

  “I just believe in scientific explanations more,” he continued. “But I think you did something special when you reached Vera, so I’ve got to think you reached the general too.”

  She wanted to preen a little, to feel good about herself for just a little while. This intelligent, capable, scientific man thought she had something special. She let the notion warm her insides just a moment, until she reminded herself of reality. She knew the pitfalls of specialness.

  She released his arm and stalked toward the waiting car. “It gives me a headache,” she said as she slid into the dark interior.

  “Waiting to get my hands on him gives me a headache,” he retorted, sliding in beside her with the grace of an athlete, despite the narrowness of the seat. “I’m not asking you to spy on anyone’s brain. I’m just pointing out that you can do something no one else in the world can do.”

  “Read Jo-jo’s mind, big deal. It would be more interesting to read the mind of a president. I don’t need to read Jo-jo’s mind to know what he’s thinking, which is why I can do it. We connect on familiar levels.” She crossed her arms and sank into the leather as far from Magnus as she could get—which wasn’t very far. She could feel the heat of him all up and down her side. She might be developing claustrophobia. “I know him. I know how his mind works.”

  “I get that, and I’m grateful you can’t delve into mine. But if you’ve learned the general well enough to do what you did the other night, you’re picking up something from him that others can’t. And it’s possible you could do it with other people, if necessary.”

  “Why would I ever want to mess with anyone’s mind?” Nadine thought of her juvenile attempts to read her teachers’ minds. She’d picked up thoughts and emotions here and there, but she could have imagined them. She had no way of proving that her science teacher was looking at the class as a bunch of monkeys.

  “Caretakers need to be empathic so they can know what’s wrong with a child or patient who can’t tell them what’s wrong. You could do something similar. Since you basically see images and not thoughts, you might be able to see where people are if they get lost. You need more experience to know what you can really do. The general prevented that.”

  Magnus sat in the shadows, face forward, so she couldn’t read much of his body language. He sounded like a teacher, not a disapproving tyrant. Nadine was simply accustomed to reacting defensively to Jo-jo’s demands. She had to break that habit.

  “I need practice, I grant. Maybe Francesca can help me. You want me to try planting images in your head like she did mine?” She knew she sounded grumpy. After the evening’s high, she didn’t want to be brought down to the current situation.

  “Not unless they’re images of you naked,” he said in the same tone as earlier.

  A grin tugged the corner of her mouth, but she couldn’t let Magnus Magnificus get the upper hand or he’d run over her. “I’m still angry. You can’t sweet talk me into telling you where the general is. If I could only find a back door into his network so I could take it down, that would isolate and handicap him until everyone is safe. That’s all I’m willing to concede before I go in after him.”

  “You are not going after him,” he said emphatically. “That’s disaster waiting to happen.”

  She punched his rock-hard biceps. “Bullying,” she reminded him. “My choice.”

  He ignored her punch. “We need evidence of wrong-doing, and we need to get him out in the open. I’ll willingly press charges and so will Bo and probably the army if we can prove General Adams high-jacked us, but we need concrete evidence. I don’t even want you charging him with illegal incarceration or whatever because that’s not enough to hold him. We need inside that school. First things first.”

  Nadine crossed her arms and slid deeper in the seat. “There’s a reason he’s never been charged. No one can pin anything to him. If you’re waiting for evidence, I might as well move to Australia now. The general is not dumb. He keeps his hands clean. And if life gets too hot, he drops out of sight until he’s forgotten. Now that reporters are hunting him, he’s likely to abscond to Alaska.”

  “Just get us into the school or one of his underground labs, and we’ll take it from there. He has you brainwashed into thinking he’s God, but he’s not,” he said angrily. “Bo and I went back out to the desert hangar where he kept us, but he’d arranged for the army to use it as a bombing range. It’s gone, along with all our evidence. I want to be one step ahead of him this time.”

  “And you’d like to strangle him rather than turn him in,” Nadine replied, understanding entirely too much after tonight. “He’s not worth wasting your life on.”

  They rode home in simmering silence.

  The limo driver dropped them off where he’d picked them up, and they slipped down the back alley again, returning through the pool door. Magnus locked the gate, then held Nadine’s elbow to lead her down the path shielded by tropical foliage. She shook off his hold once he’d unlocked the patio door.

  Still miffed, Magnus wandered off to check the outdoor security system.

  Entering the darkened family room with her mind in turmoil, Nadine caught a flicker at the far end of the room from the corner of her eye.

  She froze in place, her pulse escalating after the evening’s anxieties. She studied the far corner, unsure if she had simply seen some trick of the moonlight.

  A translucent shadow darted behind the draperies.

  Her blood froze, and goose bumps rose on her arms. Shadow. Not solid.

  “Who’s there?” she tried to call, but her voice was nearly paralyzed. The question surfaced as a mere whisper.

  The shadow quivered. The draperies didn’t.

  I can’t sleep.

  Did she hear that spoken aloud? Or inside her head? Either possibility left her icy with fear.

  “Who are you?” she asked, a little more strongly, when no one with a gun emerged.

  Entering behind her, Magnus must have heard her question. He shut the sliding door cautiously, not moving until he’d studied the situation. Nadine breathed easier having him there, but she was still terrified.

  Mikala, the shadow replied with reluctance.

  Nadine still couldn’t tell if she was actually hearing the answers. She held up her hand to indicate that Magnus stay away. She didn’t know how much he could see in the dim glow of the security light.

  With a lump in her throat, Nadine managed to ask, “Who sent you?”

  Feeling the Maximator’s nervous jump, she motioned again for him to stand still.

  The general, the small voice replied.

  “Where are you?” Nadine asked instinctively, trying not to process too much while dealing with unreality.

  At school. The little kids keep crying, the voice said plaintively. I can’t sleep. He said he’d help me if I found you.

  Although she felt frozen, sweat still ran down her forehead. Holding her elbows, she swayed, lightheaded with concentration. She focused on the corner and not the man behind her. “The school in the mountains? Should we come get you?”

  I don’t know you. I want my mama. The shadow flickered and was gone.

  Releasing the image, Nadine crumpled. Max’s strong arms caught her as her mind went dark.

  ***

  Trying not to panic, Magnus scooped up Nadine’s unresponsive body and carried her out of the room. He
wanted her safe, and the family room didn’t feel safe, not if she was talking to things he couldn’t see.

  He took her upstairs to the bedroom she’d claimed. She’d left her clothes scattered across bed and chairs and not made her bed. He lay her down among the rumpled covers and tested her pulse. She stirred before he found it.

  Heart in throat, he briefly left her while he filled a glass with water. When he returned, he helped her sit up and sip. She grimaced at the tap water but didn’t fight his hold.

  “What happened?” he demanded. “Do I need to hunt for an intruder?”

  “Astral projection,” she murmured, in what sounded like wonder. “No wonder Jo-jo has started a school. He’s found a kid who can project where he tells her.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” Magnus said without thinking. “You’re saying a ghost image of some kid was down there?”

  “If you couldn’t see her, then I was picking up her . . . spirit? I have no idea how it works. It’s just another of those psychic abilities that the general keeps hunting for. That poor kid. He’ll be relentless now that he has her.” She leaned against the pillows and looked hollow-eyed with exhaustion.

  “Her? You know it was a girl?” Magnus had no idea how to interrogate the impossible—not while his main concern was Nadine. His heart was still pounding from watching her in action, and she looked too damned fragile to bully.

  He would have to play this new phenomenon by ear and trust in Nadine’s knowledge of the impossible.

  His heart nearly stopped at the thought. Releasing control to La Loca was a pretty long step off a steep cliff for him. His grip tightened on the glass she returned to him.

  “She said her name was Mikala.” Nadine hesitated, apparently searching her memory banks. “She said the little kids were crying and that the general sent her. I didn’t get more than that, except that she seemed terrified.”

  Nadine sounded as plaintive as the child she must have heard in her head. Magnus mentally cursed but stuck to offering more water. When she sat up, he rubbed his hand in a circle on her back, trying to ground her. “Does your head hurt?”

  “Yes. No.” She rubbed her temple. “I don’t know. It was just weird, like talking to ghostly vibrations through some quantum break in the space-time continuum or whatever string theory is about. Except I think she’s alive.”