Jordan felt all the blood rush from his head and the room started wobbling a bit. His erection pushed so hard against his pants he was sure it was going to pop out and land on Drussy's desk.
"I'm fine. What else did you need to discuss?” Jordan clenched his teeth and tried desperately to think about freshwater fishing.
"Oh, yes. Time. Magic. The problem.” She nodded seriously. “I may have a lead."
Jordan tried to buck up. The entire Academy, including the High Council of Wizards, had labored day after day trying to learn what had wrinkled time and magic.
"Honestly?"
Drussy climbed on a little ladder to reach to the highest bookshelf in her office. “Hmnn, it's here somewhere."
She wiggled her curvaceous ass back and forth a few times and leaned so far that Jordan caught a glimpse of black lace under the miniscule skirt. He squeezed his eyes shut and groaned.
"Oh, no, of course, it's right there on the desk. How silly.” She sat back down and pushed a book across to Jordan.
"The Wizard of Time. Wisdom and Prophesies, by Dostranamus.” He leafed through the pages idly. “I don't get it? This book mentions our problem?"
"I think so,” she nodded. “Jordan, remember Trevor Rains?"
"I'm not senile, Drussy. He only left the Academy a few months ago. Strongest wizard in decades. A little moody, but otherwise a good chap. And that dissertation was stellar, honestly. Wish he'd come back and teach, but I understand there was some family business..."
"Yes. His mother was ill. Had you ever seen Trevor naked, Jordy?"
"Excuse me?"
"I mean, were you ever in the position to see his chest?"
"I guess so, hmmn, sure, showering after a ball game, stuff like that."
"Did he have a tattoo?"
"Yeah, he did. That Borongo insignia, right here.” He pointed to his chest. “What do you call it? His family whatnot."
"Crest. A fleur-de-lis?"
"That's it. Always thought it looked a little fruity, but he was man enough to handle it. What's this about?"
"Read the book, Jordy. I have to go teach Advanced Potions. I'll catch up with you later."
"All right. I probably won't get to this until after dinner."
"That's okay. I'll stop by your room. Say, nine or so. I think it's dominatrix night on the Naughty Channel, and I'm pretty sure you won't want to watch that.” She smiled and swept out of the office.
Jordan banged his head on her desk a half-dozen or so times.
* * * *
Drussy ran into Doris Schneiderman in the hallway and pulled her by the sleeve into an empty classroom.
Doris snickered and then covered her mouth with her hand. “Vell? Schpill! Did you gets him gut? Vas he sweatink?"
"Yes, he was! How did you know? You are the best!" Drussy hugged the diminutive older witch.
"And? Did he agree to meet mit you?” Doris rubbed her hands together in glee.
"I'm going to his room tonight! Oh my stars, Doris, I'm terrified. Imagine, Jordan Schrom alone. He's so dreamy—those eyes, and those lips, that body! I thought I would die when he took his glasses off. You should have seen what he was wearing under his robe! One of those little shirts with no sleeves and I could see his chest and arms and ooooooooooh!” Drussy hopped up and down and started giggling uncontrollably as the women clutched hands.
"What have I gotten myself into, Doris? He doesn't want me. He'll think I'm an idiot if I make a pass at him. I don't want to lose him as a friend. And what if he tells everyone?"
"Oh, puuleease. Now, vat are you going to vear?” Doris surveyed Drussy seriously from head to toe.
"I hadn't thought of that! Oh shit!"
"Calm down, calm down. In my experience, you'd be best to vear next to nothink, perhaps under your robe. You do have naughty things? You can borrow..."
"No, I have them. Doris, I don't know about this..."
The older woman pushed a bottle into Drussy's hands. Drussy looked at the label. “Black Magic. Isn't that very strong?"
"Only use it if you think things are going badly. If you use too much, he might not be able to, vell, you know, get it up."
"Oh, gosh. All right. I hadn't heard of this before."
"It's the oldest trick in ze book.” Doris nodded seriously. “Here, look.” She pulled a small, dog-eared, leather-covered book from her pocket and opened to the very first page. “See?"
"How to Catch a Man with Alcohol.” Drussy read aloud. “Will it work?"
"Every time. Now remember everything I taught you, especially ze strip tease—it's a very important first step. And don't forget ze tongue swirl.” Doris wagged a finger at her.
* * * *
Jordan paced back and forth in his cage. It felt like a cage. Trapped. A book in one hand, a mug of ale in the other. Waiting for the dark mistress to torture him again. Shit.
Jordan was fairly certain that Drussy had been correct on several counts. Trevor Rains was the Wizard of Time. They were certainly doomed if they couldn't track him down and knock some sense into him.
And she had been right that it was dominatrix night on the Naughty Channel. After a half minute of watching leather-clad flesh meet flesh, Jordan switched it off, unwilling to get heated up again with Drussy on her way to his room.
I'll kill her. If she does one sexy thing, I'll simply kill her, and they'll have to hang me.
The problem was, he thought, she didn't need to do anything except breathe. Because Drussy was sex personified. Well then, he'd just have to make sure she stopped breathing, because he couldn't take another day of it.
Because he was hopelessly in love with her, and the pain of it was intolerable. It had become a matter of survival. If dorks deserve to survive.
By the time she knocked on the door, Jordan had almost convinced himself he hated her.
"What!" He snapped and pulled the door open, fury etched across his face.
"Jordan! What's wrong?"
Jordan looked at her and wanted to sob like a child. Nothing had changed. She was insanely compelling, his best friend, his only companion, and the love of his life.
"Come on in,” Jordan growled. He flopped into a chair and threw the book down on a table. “I have papers to grade, Drussy, so let's make this really quick. It's Rains. And we need to find him, fast. I think Andrea needs to get involved."
Drussy nodded and seemed to try to smile but it didn't quite work. “I guess so. Wanted to try to solve this without her, but you probably know best. History expert and all..."
Jordan nodded. “Yes, that's me, expert of this, wizard of that. Power over everything and everyone. Brilliant, impossibly brilliant.” He shocked himself with the bitter tone to his voice.
Drussy nodded uncertainly and set a bottle on the table next to the book. “Well, there's a little present."
Jordan looked at her, unsure of what was happening. Her hand was on the top button of her robe, but seemed frozen. Then he saw it.
A single tear wove a path down her cheek.
"I can't do this. You seem so angry.” More tears followed until there was a flood down both cheeks, with melting makeup creating black stream banks.
"Do what?” Jordan was stunned. The Headmistress, crying? Old Heart of Stone?
"What I planned to do.” Drussy unbuttoned her robe to reveal the body and clothing of a stripper. She threw her hands out in frustration. “I was going to try to seduce you and get you drunk so you would want me and we would have sex all night and you would tell me things and then we would be a couple and I could stop feeling so awful all the time because every time I see you I want to die it hurts so much because you're just so gorgeous and I simply can't stand one more day of it!” Drussy stomped her foot and her breasts jiggled.
The tears flowed more freely as she wagged a finger at Jordan. “You think you're so special just because you're so smart and nice and handsome and built and sexy and have those eyes and that hair...” She suddenly covered her face with both
hands and sobbed uncontrollably. “And now I've made a complete ass of myself and you'll tell everyone."
Drussy wiped her eyes and cheeks with the sleeve of her robe and looked at Jordan.
Jordan knew his mouth was hanging open but didn't seem to be able to control it.
He finally found the muscles to form words. “I've gone insane."
Drussy sniffed a bit more and sat on the edge of a chair. “What?"
"I've gone completely mad. You've driven me quite insane. I've been in love with you for so long that I'm imagining things. I bet you aren't even here. I'm imagining you're here, aren't I? Of course, look at you! Wearing black lace underwear and those spiky shoes and those things that hold up your stockings. Saying those things."
"I don't understand, Jordan. What did you say?"
"That you aren't really here."
"No, before that ... you said that you were in love with me. Oh, I see how it is. I've gone insane. I'm imagining things. Maybe it's this whole time magic screw-up. Once we find Rains it will go away."
They stared at each other in amazement for a few minutes.
"Crickey,” they both said at the same time.
They went back to staring. Jordan felt a hint of a smile start somewhere in his belly, work his way to his heart, and pull at one side of his mouth.
Impossible.
Impossible? Hadn't he just taught the Seniors about the difference between improbabilities and impossibilities?
After all, this was only very, very unlikely.
"This is very, very unlikely, Drussy. That I'm not dreaming and that you actually came to my room because you want to have sex with me and you find me attractive."
"Well, that's not quite what I said, Jordy. I think I said that I think you're gorgeous and I ache constantly for you and I can't stand it because it's tearing me up inside. More like that."
They stared again and Jordan finally closed his eyes to take it in. And at the moment when he was about to chalk the whole business up to insanity again, a voice slid into his brain.
"You'll never have this moment again."
Jordy recognized the Voice of Andrea when he heard it. And he knew that ninety-nine percent of the time, she was right on the money.
Chapter Five
Art paced on the landing and peaked down the stairs occasionally. He looked out wistfully over Castle Borough, wondering what it was like to live the life of one of his subjects, without the burdens of the crown.
He laughed lightly at himself. You don't have any burdens, idiot. In fact, life often got pretty dull at the palace, what with peace and plenty and all that rot. Worst thing going on was the Knights’ losing streak.
The King bowed his head slightly as vendors, visitors, and employees huffed and puffed their way up the Thousand Stairs. A few gave him a nasty glance, and one actually asked him when he intended to install a lift.
"They've one over in Saint Crispins, you know? Only a few people fall out of the cart each month."
"Do you know who you address, lad?” Art looked as fierce as possible.
"I hope you fall off the cliff one day, Arty, honestly.” His little brother wiped the sweat from his brow and resumed his climb.
The lunch hour rush thinned out and Art was left alone to wrestle with his emotions.
Fear. Excitement. Anxiety. Excitement. Fear.
His first blind date.
On the spur of the moment, he'd decided to meet her halfway, this Tessa Rains. Because there was no doubt Trevor had been talking about his sister, especially given the look on Morgan's face.
Art knew she was a witch, both literally and figuratively. Her reputation for bewitching men, as well as for chewing them up and spitting them out, was legendary. At least that was the rumor in Saint Crispins, where she'd lived for several years. She'd been around the block. An unlikely candidate for queen.
Art wondered why he'd agreed to meet her. Curiosity? No, it had been that voice, poking and prodding around in his head, telling him it was the right thing to do. Didn't his mother used to call that the Voice of Andrea? She was reputed to live in the Upper Territory somewhere, watching out for clueless kings and confused wizards. Andrea was even known to help out a commoner now and then.
"Damn!"
The curse startled Art out of his musings and he looked up from the marble bench where he was sprawled out.
"Stupid stairs! Cheap stockings—my toe's gone right through. I mean, an elevator, an escalator even, although I'm not sure escalators can be that big. They have a bloody chair lift over in Saint Crispins, why not one of those?"
Tessa sat on the bench next to Art and pulled off her high-heeled boots. To his utter amazement and appreciation, she pushed her skirt up to mid-thigh and began unsnapping her stocking-holder-up thingeys and rolling her stockings down off her long elegant legs.
She snickered a bit when she looked up and saw his expression.
"What's wrong, big boy, never seen stockings before?” Tessa patted his cheek and Art felt himself flush furiously.
Say something, idiot. Anything at all.
Tessa leaned back and gazed out at the scenery. “Mnnn. It is kind of pretty here. Think I came up on a school trip once. Can't quite remember though, was probably making out with some boy.” She snorted.
Art could barely pull his eyes away from her legs to look at her huge brown eyes, burgundy-painted lips, lustrous chestnut hair, see-through black mesh shirt not at all hiding a black lace bra and hand-sized perky breasts.
Tessa stretched out a bit and propped her feet on Art's lap. “If magic were working properly, I wouldn't have these aching feet. Would've flown. How about a foot rub? You look like you have pretty strong hands. Hmnn, you look pretty strong all over, in fact.” She grinned and Art's heart slammed against his chest. He tentatively grabbed one foot and started massaging it.
"Harder, no harder. Please, I have to have it harder. Oh, baby, yes, that's it."
Art imagined a number of scenarios as he rubbed Tessa's feet and stared at her legs. All of them involved her naked body and scented oils.
Tell her. Tell her now that you're the King, this is beneath you.
"What's your business at the palace, Ms....?"
"Rains. Tessa Rains. And before you ask, yes, the Tessa, sorceress of Saint Crispins, man-eater, dark witch, yada yada yada..."
Art wanted, needed desperately to run his hand up Tessa Rains’ legs, rub her thighs and keep moving until he could die a happy King. He knew his erection was pushing against her calves and the woman had to feel it. Why, you actually want her to feel it, don't you, slimebag?
"This had better be some damned good coffee, that's all I can say,” she sighed, pulling her legs away and sitting up.
"Coffee?"
"Yes, I'm invited for coffee, at least I thought so. My brother says that Morgan Daemoniani makes the best coffee in Castle Borough, but I suppose there's pretty good coffee at the Palace?"
"Hmnn, I suppose so.” Tell her.
"Well, why the hell wouldn't you know? Don't drink coffee?” She tapped her foot a little impatiently and sat back down on the bench, very close to Art. Art felt himself begin to fall into her dark brown eyes and the scent of vanilla wafted through his body and he nearly felt faint as she leaned in, only a few inches from his face.
"Listen big boy, you're awfully cute. I'm a sucker for big blue eyes, and yours are very, very pretty. And that hair, do you know how many orts women spend to get their hair to curl like that? Makes you look kinda like an angel or something. I imagine you've the body to go with that face?” Art gasped as she ran her hand under his shirt and let it wander across his belly and chest. “Mnnn, verra nice."
"Crickey, Tessa."
"You really should loosen up a little. Now how about if you carry my boots up the rest of the bloody stairs for me?"
"Sure.” Art took in a deep breath. “But there's something you should know first."
"Well, Sire, with men, there usually is."
&
nbsp; "Sire? Did you call me Sire?"
"Did I get it wrong? You prefer Majesty?"
He felt fear and excitement battle for mastery in his body and in his mind. Excitement started to win out, just by a nose.
"Umn, you can just call me Art."
"All right, Art. But get it straight, next date's not going to be at the Palace. I can't afford to go through stockings like this."
Excitement won out.
Chapter Six
Morgan walked the few miles to Trevor's house in breathless anxiety. Only a day had passed, but it seemed like an eternity since they agreed to begin their journey at dusk.
"You can do this, Morgan.” She encouraged herself several times during the hike. “He's just a man. Just like any other man. Just a lot better looking. And built. And my stars, his package ... But he's just another man. Well, he's a wizard. And there's that kiss. And that smile. And the way he smells."
You're doomed.
She knocked lightly at the door and Gideon scrambled out.
"Hi, Morgan. Got any candy?"
"As a matter of fact, I do.” Morgan was quite pleased with herself for remembering to bring a sucker for the lizard.
"Yippee!” Gideon grabbed the huge striped sucker and unwrapped it quickly. “Hey, Morgan,” Gideon mumbled as he licked, “has King Art asked for me? Have you heard from him?"
"Oh, I spoke with him today,” she lied. “Um, yes, sure, in fact I'm positive he asked how his friend the dragon is."
Gideon disappeared into Trevor's house and Morgan could hear his shouts of glee from behind the door.
Morgan's heart caught in her throat when Trevor unlatched the door. He seemed taller, larger than life. Morgan opened her mouth to speak and gasped when he pulled her inside and pushed her against the door.
The Wizard of Time Page 4
