It wasn't all that humble. Magic must pay pretty well. It was the classic high-end bachelor pad—all sleek leather upholstery and blond wood furniture with glass insets. He had an entertainment center to die for and a view of the city lights. "Nice place," I said, admiring the framed classic movie posters.
"Thanks. Make yourself at home. Have a seat, or the bathroom's just down that hallway, if you want to freshen up. I'll make you some tea."
I wandered down the short hallway and found the bathroom. It was as small as most New York apartment bathrooms, and almost entirely devoid of grooming products, aside from basics like toothpaste. I supposed his idea of grooming was putting on that illusion.
In the light of the bathroom, I checked myself out. I had torn my stockings, after all, a small hole on the side of my right knee. I dampened a tissue and blotted the dirt off my skin. Otherwise, I seemed to be unscathed physically. Emotionally, I had a feeling I would be a total wreck as soon as the shock wore off. In fact, I was already shaking.
I took off my shoes before trying to walk back to the living room. My legs felt like rubber, and they wobbled in unpredictable directions. I barely made it to the sofa, where I collapsed into the soft leather cushions. Rod came into the living room, holding a steaming mug.
I took it from him, then fought to keep my hands steady. "Wait a second, you said you were making tea. You mean, you actually made this instead of zapping it into existence?"
"Believe it or not, we don't all go around just zapping things. For one thing, it's an energy drain. At the office, we have enhanced power circuits to draw on. Most of us don't have them at home."
I nodded. "That explains a lot. I was wondering why you bother going to restaurants or bars."
"It's the social factor. We need that as much as anyone else. And it never quite tastes the same. I wasn't sure I could get the tea just right without actually making it."
I tasted it, and it was very strong, and very sweet. If I wasn't mistaken, there was more than just tea and sugar in there. I drank a little more. "Thank you."
He sat next to me on the sofa. "Now, I imagine you're wondering what just happened."
"Yeah, I believe I recall asking you a couple of times. I don't think it was an ordinary mugging. He didn't even try to grab my purse."
"No, it wasn't an ordinary mugging. We'll know more once we talk to your attacker, but we think tonight's adventure came courtesy of our friend Idris. He must have figured out the role you've been playing, and he wants you out of the picture."
I shuddered, then gulped down more of the tea. "What role? I'm not magical. There are hundreds of people in this city who could have done exactly what I did. If he's going after people who are a threat, he should be going after Owen."
"Who said he isn't, on a daily basis?" Rod's tone sent shivers up my spine. "But you're also a key player in this, like it or not, and it would be just like Phelan Idris to want to know exactly what role you do play. His people have been stalking you for a while, and we've been watching them while we keep an eye on you."
"So you and Ari and her gang being there wasn't just a happy coincidence tonight?"
"Not in the least. Ari was supposed to be watching you in the restaurant, but you must have managed to get out of there before she had a chance to follow you."
"Disastrous date," I explained. "So they've been following me? I still don't get it. I'm not that important, really. I just have a few good ideas and some down-home common sense."
"Do you realize how rare that is? But I imagine the issue to Idris is that you're an unknown quantity. He doesn't know the role you play, and he wants to find out. He also wants to scare you."
I finished my tea. "Well, it worked. I'm scared. I've never been mugged before, and let me tell you, it's not fun."
He leaned toward me, putting one hand on my arm. "We'd understand if you wanted to walk away from all this. It's not your fight, so there's no reason you should be putting yourself in danger. We have ways of giving references that won't look suspicious, and I know people in other industries, so we could help you get another job. Don't feel at all obligated to us. I know when we offered you the job, we never mentioned the possibility of danger, so it's entirely our fault if you've had an unpleasant surprise."
I pondered that. Did I want to go back to living an ordinary life, working at a company where you actually had to brew coffee, having coworkers who might throw hissy fits but didn't turn into monsters, not really mattering in the grand scheme of things? True, it would simplify my life considerably. I would be able to talk about work with my friends, and I wouldn't have to worry about my dates being jinxed—
literally.
But could I turn my back on what I knew was going on? If Idris thought I mattered enough that he wanted to stop me, then maybe I was more important than I thought.
This thing was far bigger than I was, and now that I knew what the stakes were, I couldn't just walk away. Whether or not I had any magic powers, this was my fight, too, and I wanted to see it through.
I shook my head. "Nothing doing. Now they've just pissed me off."
He grinned. "I was hoping you'd say that. Don't worry, we'll continue to protect you.
These days, we all need to look out for one another. "
A realization struck me. "Is that why Owen's been coming to work with me every morning?"
"Yeah, he's part of your security detail, with the added benefit that you can spot anyone in disguise who might be after him."
"Oh." I couldn't help but feel a sting of disappointment to have it verified that his attention wasn't personal.
"More tea?" he asked.
I studied my empty cup and assessed my condition. I still wasn't ready to go home.
I wasn't sure which would be worse, explaining why the perfect man Gemma had set me up with never wanted to see me again, or telling them that I'd been mugged.
"Sure," I said, handing him the cup.
When he returned to the living room with a fresh cup of tea, I said, "Maybe you can help me with something."
"Anything you need. Just ask." His tone reminded me of Owen, that first day of work on the bus.
"Do you know anything about magical pranks?"
"A little. Why?"
I told him about the Naked Frog Guy, ending with his unwelcome appearance at my date that night. When he finished laughing and wiping the tears of mirth out of his eyes, he said, "Owen's the one you want to talk to about that."
Owen was the last person I wanted to talk to about either dating or about being serenaded by men who used to be frogs. "Why's that?"
"It sounds like one of his spells. The layering's the clue. Most prank spells are one-dimensional, but the beauty of this one is that 'breaking' the enchantment actually only makes it worse by making the victim become obsessed with the woman who breaks the frog part of the spell."
"I don't know him that well, but fraternity prank spells don't seem to be Owen's style."
"When we were in college, he made extra money by doing custom spell work. I'm surprised to hear that one's still going around, and that it's made it to the city." He shook his head. "He should have asked for royalties. That was one of his better ones. It really brought out his sense of humor."
"You mean all the bad poetry?"
"He was taking a Shakespeare class that semester."
"Don't tell me he's a Barry Manilow fan."
"No, that was the customer's request—they were looking for something really humiliating. The opera is pure Owen, though."
"So, how do I break this spell?"
"It's supposed to break when the victim meets someone he'd like even without a spell. Around the university, that meant it was usually over within a day or so."
"And if he doesn't? Or if he really does like the woman?"
"Then you'd have problems." He studied me for a while, and his gaze gave me shivers. I wasn't used to being looked at that way by men. The sweater Gemma loaned me must have been especially good
with my coloring. "And I can see where that's a distinct possibility. Yeah, you should definitely talk to Owen if this guy keeps bugging you. He's probably got a back door built into the spell, so he could break it for you."
I wondered what Jeff's type would be. Dealing with the situation that way was far preferable to confessing my predicament to Owen. Whether or not he had any interest in me, I still had at least a minor crush on him, and the last thing any girl wants to do is talk about her dating woes to a man she's attracted to, especially when her dating woes are so weird.
I drained the last of my tea and said, "I'd better get home soon. My roommates will be dying to get the postdate debriefing."
He took my mug and carried it into the kitchen, then came back to the living room and helped me to my feet. "You okay now?"
"The shakes are pretty much gone. Thanks." I slipped my shoes back on and tested my balance in the high heels.
"Then I'll walk you home. You'll be safe there. The place is warded pretty well.
Owen took care of that a while ago."
"Warded?"
"No one can magically attack you in your apartment."
"But no one can attack me magically at all."
"They can't attack you directly with a spell, but they can use magic to get access to you so they can attack you physically. That's what happened tonight. Your attacker transported himself magically to get to you so you wouldn't hear him approaching."
"But I did hear something."
"That was me."
"Why didn't you say something? You scared me to death."
"Sorry about that. Anyway, your building is secured so no one can use magic to damage it, open locks, or anything else like that. Someone can still get in using purely physical means, but if your locks are good enough to protect you from the usual criminal elements, you should be okay."
"That's nice to know."
We walked to my building in silence. I was too busy thinking of the story I would tell my roommates to make conversation. At my building, he waited for me to unlock the front door, then said, "Have a good weekend. And don't worry, we'll keep an eye out for you."
"Thanks for the help, and the tea. I'll have to thank Ari later for the lifesaving."
And now I had to make the transition from the magical to the mundane. The big news from my evening wasn't the date, but as usual, I couldn't talk about the really interesting stuff.
Gemma and Marcia mobbed me as soon as I got home. Then I noticed that Connie was there, too. "That was a nice long dinner," Gemma said. "Things must have gone well."
I fought to hold back tears as I collapsed on the sofa.
"I don't think things went well," Connie said softly. She sat next to me and took my hand. "What happened?"
Gemma perched next to me on the sofa's arm. "Didn't you like him? I thought he was perfect." She sounded hurt.
"He was perfect. I liked him. I just don't think he liked me."
"Are you sure about that?"
"He left skid marks getting away from me."
"But that was a pretty long date if he didn't like you," Marcia said.
"I ran into a friend from work on my way home, and we talked awhile," I said.
All their faces fell. "You at least got dessert, right?" Connie asked.
"He said no thanks to the dessert tray before I had a chance to say anything."
"Then it sounds like you're better off without him," Connie declared. "Any man who would deny you dessert isn't worth having." Connie has a rather strong sweet tooth, so skipping dessert deserves the death penalty in her book. She's the one who taught me to carry chocolate in my purse.
"Was it the sister thing again?" Gemma asked.
I couldn't lie—she was likely to hear Keith's side of the story. "No. It was just some weirdness that happened, and I think it scared him away." I didn't want to delve into the weirdness, and I hoped Keith was gentleman enough not to give details.
They all laughed. "If he thinks you're too weird, then he's never going to find anyone," Marcia declared. "You've got to be the most ordinary person in the world."
"Maybe I'm so ordinary, I'm weird." That was certainly the truth. I wouldn't have been in this weird mess if I hadn't been so ordinary. Little did they know, but my ordinary days were well and truly over.
* * *
Monday moming, I stepped out the front door to find Owen standing on the sidewalk. Owen was physically incapable of looking casual, so I suspected he was waiting for me. "You look better than you did the last time I saw you," I remarked as he fell into step beside me.
"You're the one we've been worried about."
"Me? I'm fine. Not a scratch." And I was fine, more or less. Only one teensy nightmare about being grabbed in the darkness. I wouldn't be walking home alone from anything after dark for the foreseeable future, but other than that I was A-okay.
"But why didn't y'all tell me I might be in danger?"
"We didn't want to scare you." The sheepish look on his face showed that he knew just how stupid that sounded. "It didn't work so well."
"I'm alive to tell the tale, which is the most important thing."
I made a point of keeping my eyes peeled as we walked to the subway station, remembering what Rod had said about what I could do to help Owen.
"Other than being attacked, how was your weekend?"
"Not so bad. And yours?"
"I got some work done." That didn't tell me much, but now I knew from Rod that he liked opera in addition to baseball. He was unfolding like a flower.
The train arrived, and we shoved our way on board. It was particularly crowded this morning. Even standing room was hard to come by. Owen wasn't tall, but he was taller than I was, so he was able to grab an overhead handhold. Then he circled my waist with his arm and held me steady. I could think of worse ways to commute.
This morning we had to part ways at the doorway to R&D, then I went to the tower for my first day on the job as Merlin's assistant. "He wants to see you when you get a chance," Trix said as I topped the escalator.
"I'll be there in a sec." I checked my e-mail and sent a quick response to Rod's note asking how I was, then got a notepad and headed across the reception area to Merlin's office. Before I could knock on the door, he opened it.
"Katie, good morning, please come in." He ushered me in and shut the door behind me. "Have a seat," he said, gesturing toward the sofa. "I'm sorry to hear about your weekend adventure. You aren't suffering any lingering ill effects, I hope?"
I took a seat, and he joined me on the sofa. "Not really," I said. "I'm fine. Just mad."
"As are we all."
"I guess we could take it as a sign that this Idris guy is nervous, if he's desperate enough to try to take me out."
"He does seem to perceive our activities as a threat. I imagine he connected the timing of your arrival here with our increased efforts against him and wanted to find out what, exactly, your role was."
"He'd have been disappointed."
"I strongly doubt that. I understand you declined Mr. Gwaltney's offer of finding less hazardous employment."
"They just got me riled up. He'd better look out now."
He laughed. "That's the way I thought you'd respond. Now, I suppose I should let you know what I expect of you in your new position."
We spent the next half hour going over my duties, which seemed to be pretty much the same kinds of things I'd done in my last job, except with a far nicer boss. I was to read over every document he was given, only to look for hidden spells and illusions rather than for typos and grammatical errors. When necessary, I'd sit in on meetings along with Trix and compare notes with her to see if there was anything going on that shouldn't be. And I'd continue to head the marketing efforts. It sounded like
I should stay pretty busy, which was okay by me.
"And don't hesitate to speak up if you have any ideas," he added. "I'm an old man who's been out of the world for far too long, and we need your fresh perspective."
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I couldn't begin to express how good it was to have a boss who treated me like a human being with half a brain. In that long year working for Mimi, I'd started to let myself think I didn't know enough to be of use. "I'll try," I said. "I hope I don't let you down."
"You won't." Once again he had that eerie certainty about him that gave me a chill.
One day, I thought, I'd get the nerve to ask him about it.
Late that afternoon, Trix tapped on my door. "There's an emergency meeting. He wants you in there."
I grabbed my pen and notepad, wondering what was going on. Would this be my first big meeting as Merlin's personal verifier?
When I saw who was gathered for the meeting, I doubted it. It was the same group as on Friday, minus Gregor and the accounting gnome. Owen looked grim and distracted, and he gave me only the slightest of nods as I entered. There was an aura of gloom and doom that hung over the room. I took my seat at the table silently.
Merlin kicked things off. "Owen, why don't you tell us what you've discovered today?"
"Idris has a new spell on the market, and it's quite dark. We're back to square one."
"What is the new spell?" Mr. Hartwell asked.
"It's basically the spell he was working on when we dismissed him. It seems he finally got it ready to sell."
"This could be a sign of panic on his part," I pointed out, "if the poor quality and whatever we were doing had an impact. He needed to get something on the market that he knew would work while he hurried to fix the other spell."
"That doesn't mean we don't have a problem," Owen said with a deep sigh. "This one works, and we don't have a way to counter it. It's good—no big energy drain, it's effective, it's everything he promises it to be. It's still all about influence, but not quite in the puppet-master way the other spell was—he was reaching too far with that one. This one just makes the victim incredibly open to suggestion. The victim still has some degree of free will, but he is strongly drawn to wanting to please the caster.
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