Kiss and Spell (Enchanted, Inc.)

by Swendson, Shanna

  As we headed out of the office building, a voice on the awning over the entrance said, “Psst, you two!”

  We looked up to see Sam the gargoyle, MSI’s head of security. “Hey, Sam, what is it?” I asked.

  “Watch yourselves, okay?”

  “I don’t need to watch myself,” Owen said. “I’m being watched.” He gave a friendly wave to his unseen surveillance team. Since I’d lost my magical immunity, I couldn’t see them anymore because they tended to veil themselves magically, but Owen knew he was being watched by official and unofficial monitors from various groups who still weren’t convinced he wouldn’t turn evil and try to take over the world with dark magic.

  “That’s not what I meant,” Sam snapped with uncharacteristic tension that made me wonder if there was something in the water or perhaps a city-wide spell making usually cheerful people into grouches. It wouldn’t be the first time someone had tried casting a broad spell like that. “Just be careful. This is a big city, you know.”

  “The crime rate here is actually a popular misconception,” I pointed out. “Things happen, but if you stay in the right neighborhoods, you’re safer than in a lot of cities. We’ll try to avoid the crack dens.”

  “Hey, just lookin’ out for two of my favorite people. What, you don’t like me carin’ for you? Be that way and see if I do it again.” I waited for a second for the “just kiddin’, doll” I was sure would come, but he flapped his wings and resettled himself so that his back was turned to us.

  Owen and I exchanged an uncomfortable glance and departed. “Maybe we should check the top of the Empire State Building,” I said as we walked to the nearby subway station. That was where the bad guys had broadcast the last spell to hit the whole city. “Someone’s put up a grumpy hex.”

  “Or maybe something is going on.”

  “Something’s always going on. And, let’s face it, we like it that way.”

  Once we were in the station, he took my hand and I closed my eyes for a second to enjoy the little magical tingle that sent through me. I’d been able to sense the presence of magic even when I was immune, but now that I had power, myself, I’d learned to pick up on nuances. There was something about the way Owen’s magical field meshed with mine that sparked something. I didn’t know if it was because we were magically compatible or if it was because Owen had drawn on my latent power in the past, but it was extremely sexy, whatever it was. We’d made a good team when I was immune and he was magical, but there was a lot to like about sharing magic with him.

  “I wonder if we could find a garden club for Granny to attend every so often,” I mused out loud after we’d boarded a train and were standing close together. It was a real pity to have this magical connection and no chance for solitude. I had three roommates and my grandmother had moved in with him. We had more privacy on a rush-hour train than we had at home, since no one on the train noticed or cared what we were up to.

  “In Manhattan?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

  “There are gardens. Community gardening is very big, and there are rooftop and container gardens. She could teach them a lot of things, I’m sure.”

  “Maybe we could get the boss to invite her out for dinner.”

  “Bite your tongue!” I snapped, getting queasy at the idea of my boss and my grandmother getting cozy. They already seemed to like each other more than was comfortable for me.

  “They don’t have to date. They could just spend time talking shop.”

  “But what if something did happen and she decided to stay permanently? Even if she moved out of your place, she’d still be around, meddling.”

  “Okay, then, garden club it is. We’ll do an Internet search and ask around the office tomorrow.”

  I couldn’t help but smile at the idea that he wanted alone time as much as I did. I was still grinning when we reached Union Square and left the train. My grin faded when he whispered, “Don’t turn around, but try to look around casually the first chance you get.”

  I gulped. “You mean Sam was right about watching ourselves? Does he have some kind of precognition?”

  “I don’t know. It’s hard to tell if you’re being followed in a place this crowded, but I have a funny feeling.”

  He led us on a more roundabout than usual route out of the station. The area around the park was still pretty crowded with commuters leaving the subway station, and we stuck to the busier Park Avenue to head uptown instead of cutting over to Irving Place, like we usually did. Eventually, though, to get to Owen’s home we had to go down one of his neighborhood’s quiet side streets, where there wasn’t a lot of traffic—vehicular or otherwise. It was the kind of neighborhood where I didn’t mind walking alone at night. When I saw in the rearview mirror of a parked car that a small group of young men had followed us, I realized that today was apparently different.

  They looked like gangsters. That is, they looked like gangsters in a high-school production of West Side Story. They didn’t much resemble the current breed of street toughs that you almost never saw in the vicinity of Gramercy Park. In spite of my nerves, I had an overwhelming urge to bend forward and snap my fingers menacingly as I walked down the sidewalk. Then we passed another car’s mirror and I caught a glint of metal in the reflection. These guys were armed, so I doubted they were going to limit themselves to intimidating us through virtuoso choreography.

  “Do you remember that shield spell you learned today?” Owen whispered.

  “Yeah. You think they’re going to attack us with magic?”

  “There’s magic nearby.”

  I felt it, too, I realized. “You’re sure it’s theirs?”

  “It’s strongest in that direction.”

  “You’d probably do a better job with that shield. It’s your spell, and you’re more powerful.”

  “I can’t.”

  “I thought me using magic would give you away, too.”

  “They’re watching me. They’re not watching you, so they may not notice. If there’s a magical attack, your shield should be hidden in the overall surge of power.” He must have felt me tense because he gave my arm a reassuring squeeze and said, “You can do it. You fought off everything Rod and I threw at you today, and it always looked like immunity at work.”

  “But those guys have knives. That spell won’t fight that.”

  “I think those are just for show. If they’ve got magic, they’re not going to bother getting close enough to stab us.”

  I heard laughter behind us, the sound of a bully who’s spotted someone weaker he can prey upon, and then the others joined in, feeding on each other’s cruelty. We were still nearly a block from Owen’s place.

  “What if they know who we are and think we’re immune to magic?” I hissed at Owen. “Then they won’t use magic on us.”

  He turned to look at me in horror at that realization. The sound of footsteps behind us grew louder and faster. I braced myself for the attack.

  Chapter Two

  I wasn’t sure what we could do to save ourselves. Would it be better to stand our ground and try to fight or to run for our lives? We were so close to Owen’s place… where Granny was, I realized. My grandmother had come to New York from Texas because she’d sensed I’d need her help soon. Surely she’d notice if I was in mortal danger little more than a block away. We hadn’t yet covered mental communication in my magic lessons, since that was supposedly a more advanced skill that only a few wizards could do, but I figured that a mental cry for help wouldn’t hurt. I put every bit of thought and feeling I had into mentally calling out for my grandmother.

  Then I couldn’t bear waiting any longer for the attack and spun to face our attackers. All my thinking and crying out for help must have taken only a split second because they weren’t quite yet on us. Their steps faltered when they saw me facing them, like they hadn’t expected that. I nudged Owen to get him to turn around, too, as we backed against the nearest wall. “What do you want?” I demanded of the fresh-faced, retro street gang.r />
  Their answer was to fan out to surround us on three sides and look menacing, but they didn’t get much closer to us. I felt magic move with them, surrounding them, and I thought I saw hints of the blurring around the edges that indicated an illusion. In my public guise as a magical immune, I wasn’t supposed to see illusions, so how was I supposed to react to these guys? What was really there? If they’d been ordinary street thugs, I’d have known what to do. A clearly magical situation without a clear agenda was more challenging. Having magical powers was cool, but my magical immunity had been so much more useful in situations like this because I knew what was really happening.

  They still weren’t doing anything but acting like they wanted to scare us. They weren’t making threats or demands, just leering at us as they sauntered around us like cats toying with a pair of mice. Well, if what they wanted was to intimidate or scare us, the way to ruin that was to refuse to act intimidated or scared, no matter how intimidated or scared I really was.

  I folded my arms across my chest, rolled my eyes, and stifled a yawn. “Is there something we can help you with?” I said, giving my tone a veneer of civility on top of irritation.

  Owen looked at me like I was nuts, then got the hint. “I’m pretty sure dinner’s waiting on us, and her grandmother won’t be happy if we’re late,” he said. “So, if you don’t mind, can we cut to the mugging part of this encounter?”

  Our assailants gave each other surprised glances. I wasn’t sure what they expected us to do—maybe scream in terror? I’d seen a lot more frightening things than this in my time among magical people.

  “Is this part of your hate club?” I whispered to Owen. “Are they trying to goad you into fighting them so they can say you’re evil?”

  “There’s no telling,” he whispered wearily. Frowning, he added, “I think they’re elves. Their magic feels elven.”

  “So I was right, those are illusions!”

  “Good work.”

  “Tell Rod. I want credit.”

  One of our would-be attackers lunged toward us with his knife, but didn’t come close enough to do any harm. “Eek,” I said so he wouldn’t feel bad about not being scary enough.

  And then it was as though someone had sent them a signal, and they all charged forward. This time, it looked like their aim was to do more than scare us. “Run!” Owen urged, and we ran through a gap they opened when they attacked.

  A loud crack of lightning stopped us in our tracks. I realized it wasn’t generated by our attackers when they pulled back, too. Then a small figure came out of the haze of smoke lingering from the lightning and rapped a cane on the ground. “It’s dinnertime,” Granny said in a voice that wouldn’t accept arguing. She’d heard me! We hurried to her side.

  At the same time, a trio of gargoyles swooped down from the tops of nearby buildings, two men dressed all in black appeared as though from thin air, and a bicycle messenger rounded the corner at full tilt, heading straight for the street gang. The attackers turned to run, but the biker was on their tail and the gargoyles chased them down from above. The men in black soon joined in the scuffle.

  “What in the devil is going on?” Granny demanded of Owen and me.

  “That’s what I want to know,” Owen said, moving toward the altercation. Granny and I followed him.

  “You okay, kids?” Sam asked as he left the scrum and landed on top of a sign near us.

  “Was this what you were warning us about?” I asked him, ignoring his question. “Did you know we were going to be attacked? Were we bait for some kind of sting?”

  The men in black had bound the wrists of two of the elven gang members, and the bicycle messenger was protesting loudly. Hearing this, Sam left us, shouting, “Hey, this is our collar! It’s my sting! You just happened to be here ’cause you’re spyin’ on Palmer, here.”

  One of the men in black replied, “This falls into Council jurisdiction.”

  Sam snorted. “Yeah, you leave us to do all the dirty work on our own most of the time, but then when you feel like it, it’s suddenly your jurisdiction.”

  “We’re not under the jurisdiction of any of you,” one of the captives protested. “We answer only to the Elf Lord.”

  Granny tapped me on the arm. “While those idiots fight it out, let’s get home. Dinner’s getting cold, and there’s no point in us standing around. You did your part by drawing them out, apparently.”

  The MSI security team and the Council surveillance team didn’t seem to notice us leaving, they were so caught up in their argument. I figured if they needed us, they knew where to look. It was a relief to get safely inside Owen’s heavily warded home and sit down to my grandmother’s homemade pot roast with all the trimmings.

  “What was all that about?” I asked after eating enough to mollify Granny. “Sam seemed to know it was coming.”

  “That’s what it looked like,” Owen agreed. “I don’t think the Council guys were supposed to be in on it, though.”

  “And elves?”

  “Maybe they think I’ve got that brooch or they think I destroyed it and they’re out for revenge. I understand there are rumors all over town about what happened to it.”

  “Eat!” Granny ordered, pointing her fork at his nearly full plate.

  “I destroyed the brooch,” I said. “Maybe I should put out a press release.”

  “It’s probably best that not too many people know what really happened,” Owen said, then he noticed Granny’s glare and dutifully put a bite of roast in his mouth.

  “I wonder what Sam’s plan was if you hadn’t shown up, Granny,” I said. “I guess you got my message just in time—you did get my message?”

  “Loud and clear. But what are you people teaching her?” she demanded of Owen. “That was the worst mental call for help I’ve ever heard.”

  “It worked!” I protested.

  “We actually haven’t taught her that at all,” Owen said with a proud smile at me. “She must have figured that out for herself.”

  “Then teach her properly before she needs to do it again. My ears are still ringing.” Then she turned back to me. “What have they been teaching you, if not how to properly call for help?”

  “Today we worked on some defensive shields that should mimic the effect of being magically immune.”

  “Hmmph,” she muttered, and I knew I was in for a magical lesson, Granny style, as soon as the table was cleared. She and the MSI people had very different approaches to magic, since theirs was more analytical and based on rigorous study over the centuries and hers was more of a folk art handed down through generations of people who were mostly isolated from other magic users. I hadn’t even known that there was magic in my family until earlier in the year, and then it turned out that my mother’s side of the family tended to be either wizards or immune to magic. I had one brother who was a wizard and one who was immune.

  By the time Owen called a halt to the post-dinner magical workout, I felt as drained as if I’d just done an intense session at the gym. I wondered if magic counted as cardio. “I’m getting totally mixed signals on magic, between Rod and Granny. Who am I supposed to believe?” I asked him as he walked me home.

  “Whichever works best for you,” he said with a shrug. “The only ‘right’ way in magic is the way that works with the least power and without hurting anyone. A lot of it is trial and error. Your grandmother does have some interesting approaches. With the lower levels of available magical energy to draw from in your hometown, she’s really good at making efficient use of resources. I’ve incorporated some of her techniques into my research.”

  “If you tell her that, she’ll be impossible.”

  “Which is why I haven’t told her,” he said with a wry grin. “If something comes of it, though, I’ll owe her royalties.”

  We reached my front door, and he kissed me good night before saying loudly, “I don’t have any evil scheming planned for the night, but I’d appreciate the escort home, if you don’t mind.” With a smi
le, he added, “I might as well take advantage of the hassle. See you tomorrow.”

  When I got upstairs to my apartment, Nita, my one roommate who didn’t know about magic, was sitting on the sofa with a big bowl of popcorn in her lap. “Oh, good, you’re home,” she said without moving her eyes from the television screen. “Marcia’s working late and Gemma’s out.”

  “I had dinner with Owen.” I joined her on the sofa. She was watching one of those romantic comedies where people fall in love in a montage set to a pop ballad. The couple went on a picnic in the park, went boating on the lake and nearly fell in, danced on a rooftop in the rain, and stared dreamily into each other’s eyes across a restaurant table.

  I couldn’t help but sigh wistfully. That was what being in love in New York was supposed to be about, not fighting off gangster elves and then having dinner with my grandmother while being lectured on how to do magic. Owen and I had yet to manage one normal date that was even remotely similar to the kind of things you saw in movies. The closest we’d come was when we were hanging out as friends before we started dating. I guessed it came with the territory when part of your job was stopping bad magic.

  But we weren’t on the front lines right now, other than apparently being targets. We should finally have the time to work on the romantic side of our relationship and see what was there without the adrenaline of constant danger or the closeness that came from developing battle plans together. I thought about planning a picnic for the weekend, but then I’d have to pack enough to feed Owen’s official monitors, the various factions who were also watching him, and now possibly the MSI security people and the elves who were out to get us. Was just one nice, romantic day out too much to hope for?

  “It’s a lie!” Nita said, and I turned to her in surprise, wondering if I’d been projecting my thoughts unwittingly.