He's A Magic Man (The Children of Merlin)

by Susan Squires

  “Come in, come in,” Brina fussed at the door to the suite. It was dim, done in warm tones—comfortable. She touched her husband’s arm then turned to Drew. “Oh, dear. Drew, honey, come sit over here.” She guided Drew to a sofa. “Thank goodness. You’ll be fine shortly.” She touched each of her sons in turn, performing her own instant triage. “Nothing worse than you got fighting when you were young hooligans.” Tris maybe, but Michael couldn’t believe Kemble was ever a “young hooligan.”

  “Senior got grazed by a bullet,” Tris reported.

  “I know, dear. But he’ll be fine in a minute after I get done with him.”

  “It’s too soon,” Brian protested.

  “Nonsense. I rested while you were gone, and none of you are that bad.” She turned on Michael. “I think I’ll start with you.”

  “I’m fine, ma’am,” Michael said. He was surprised that his words came out thick. His lips were swollen or something.

  “Not,” Kemble said sharply. “Let her heal you.”

  He was about to protest when Tris agreed. “You’re putting a whole new spin on ugly. I’m gonna have nightmares. Drew’s probably frightened out of her mind.”

  Michael glanced anxiously at Drew, but she only smiled. It was tender. That sent shock waves through him. She must feel sorry for him. Well, that was the best he could expect. After all, he’d joined with the bad guys just so he could bring his dead wife back to life. What a slap in the face that had been for Drew. And he’d dragged her whole family into this mess, where they’d nearly been killed. He was lucky she still felt sorry for him.

  He sighed. The least he could do was let Brina stop him looking like a decomposing zombie. “I’d be grateful for your help, ma’am.”

  “Now when are you going to stop calling me ma’am and start calling me Brina?” she asked as she led him to a chair. “These aren’t as bad as they look.” She touched a finger to his cheek. He jumped. Jesus! She looked into his eyes and that translucent thing started happening. She took his shoulders in both hands. “I know that hurt, but I had to touch the wound to be sure.” Her voice echoed.

  This time he was awake to feel the pain begin to slip away, replaced by a sense of well-being. Things would be fine. He was strong. He could protect Drew. And….

  “There,” she said, a little breathlessly. She got up and turned to her husband. “Your turn.” He looked mulish. “Don’t think I’m going to sip brandy while you bleed. I have more than enough juice to do you all.”

  She did too. Drew was soon breathing easily. Tris rummaged in the minibar, tossing miniatures. “Here’s a Chivas, Senior. Gray Goose for the Prince of Wales.” He set aside a tiny Jack Daniels for himself. “Drew, gin and tonic? They got Bombay Sapphire.”

  Drew rose. “I’ll make it.”

  Tris got out a bottle of chardonnay for his mother. “What’ll it be, Finder?”

  “I’ll take a shot of something with caffeine. Coke if they got it.”

  “Oh, yeah. Sorry,” Tris said ruefully.

  “No big deal,” Michael said. Actually he felt strangely detached about liquor. Shouldn’t an alcoholic be craving something potable about now? Something had changed inside him. He stared at Brina, who just smiled. Had she done something to him? Or was it Drew? He’d felt whole, more than whole, ever since that blissful night at the shack.

  Brian poured his Chivas into a glass and took a gulp. “Didn’t get the Talisman Sword. And I think Rhiannon is still alive.” He turned to Michael. “Did you see either of them when you were going after Drew?”

  Michael had to shake his head. He’d gotten what he came for, but the mission was still incomplete.

  “She didn’t come down the stairwell. Maybe the elevator?”

  “She did get away with it,” Drew said softly. There was something final about a Seer’s opinion. She took her G&T from the bar and came back to the couch. Tris drank his Jack straight out of the little bottle. Kemble poured his vodka into a water tumbler with ice.

  “Did you…?” her father asked his daughter.

  “Yes. A vision. I saw an old woman with yellowish eyes. She had the sword.”

  “Morgan,” Brian muttered. The other Tremaines looked worried.

  “She was old when we last saw her,” Brina protested. “That was more than thirty years ago. She’d be ancient now, if she’s even still alive.”

  “The sword might be able to take care of that,” Drew said slowly. “Rhiannon was hell-bent on getting it to Morgan. Thought it would save her life, if they used it in some kind of ceremony.” Drew sighed.

  “So that’s where she’s going with it,” Michael said. “The hospital. Wherever that is.”

  “Morgan’s in ICU at Northwestern Memorial,” Drew said.

  “Give me your iPhone, Mother,” Kemble said, new purpose in his voice. His mother fumbled in her purse and tossed him the phone.

  “Let’s get over there pronto,” Tris said. “It’s not far. Maybe we can still get the sword.”

  “Hold on,” Kemble mumbled, tapping at the phone.

  “We may have some time,” Drew fretted, “or we may not. They were very publicity-shy. So when they couldn’t get the sword past security, they tried to get her released AMA, but by that time she was unconscious and couldn’t sign herself out. They were working on fake IDs to get Rhiannon identified as a relative.”

  “Burning the Britannica Building was not exactly publicity-shy,” Brian noted dryly.

  “Exactly what I’m afraid of,” Drew said. “Rhiannon has nothing to lose now. She’ll just take Morgan out of the hospital, and kill anybody who gets in her way.”

  “It’s done,” Kemble said, sitting back on the couch. He shook his head. “She broke into the ICU and made off with one Morgan Le Fay. Three people dead, one injured. There are already videos from witnesses popping up on YouTube. Got away clean. Witnesses say it’s just like they disappeared into thin air.”

  “Damn,” Tris muttered. “I bet it’s that Cloaker who can make things invisible.”

  “What do we do now?” Michael asked.

  “We go home,” Brian said, standing. “The children are vulnerable.”

  Brina looked frightened.

  So, this was it. They were going back to LA, circling the wagons to protect their family, including Drew. They’d be better protection than he’d been. Michael sagged inside. Drew wore an anxious expression. Of course she’d be anxious if her family was in danger. Best make it a clean break. “Well, then.…”

  “Of course you’re coming with us,” Brina said smoothly.

  “You’re very kind, ma’am.” He let the “but” hang in his tone of voice.

  “Damn right he’s coming with us,” Brian said briskly. “We have to settle some things.”

  Brina looked daggers at her husband. Drew looked like she wanted to sink through the floor. Brina rose gracefully. “Of course, Michael wants to reclaim his boat. What was it called? The Purgatory, I think.”

  Michael blinked. Purgatory. That’s what he’d been in for more than two years. Unable to get Alice back, unable to move on.

  “Probably still in Jamaica,” Kemble said obligingly. “I can check.”

  The prospect of going back to the shack and the boat dock, alone, seemed like it might break him, in ways far worse than the prison in Afghanistan had broken him. And now he had no Alice to make him whole again.

  “Not safe to claim it,” Tris said roughly. “They know you’re a Finder. They’ll want you.”

  Maybe or maybe not. But they’d sure as hell want Drew. And he was the one who’d told Rhiannon Drew was a Seer. As humiliating as it would be, he couldn’t leave Drew to fend for herself, even under the watchful eye of her family. The urge to protect her was even stronger than his fear of the pain it would bring to be around her, knowing what she must think of him.

  Brina raised her delicate black brows at him in question.

  He nodded. “Thank you.”

  “Kemble, call the airport.” Brian
checked his watch. “We’ll be there in forty-five minutes. I want wheels up in fifty.”

  *****

  Morgan held out one hand. Veined, gnarled, but not desiccated. Not rotting. Morgan began to laugh. She saw Rhiannon and Jason exchange glances. But she couldn’t stop laughing. The thrill of life in her veins was intoxicating. It had been too near a thing.

  When she could finally speak, she said, “Well you two fucked things up royally.” A stray giggle escaped. They were in an abandoned warehouse in a run-down area on the outskirts of downtown Chicago. Jason went pale and stepped back. Rhiannon stood her ground. That was why Jason would never lead the Clan. Actually, if all went according to plan no one would ever lead the Clan but her.

  “We’ll have to change headquarters, regroup. Where’s Phillip?”

  “Las Vegas,” Jason said.

  “Las Vegas will do.”

  “I’ll get on that,” Rhiannon volunteered.

  “Shall I go after the Tremaines?” Jason asked.

  “They’ll really go to ground now,” she mused. “But they know about the sword. Will they guess it’s one of four? Doesn’t matter, if we wipe them out first. But no,” she decided. “We must focus on the Talismans.” Three to go. Three barriers to immortality. “You go help Hardwick, Jason. I want to know what they are and where they are.”

  *****

  The flight back to LA was the longest of Drew’s life. Her damned red velvet dress smelled like smoke. The bottom was actually burned. She couldn’t say it was comfortable. Her mother was anxious about the children, with only Mr. Nakamura there to supervise, though Kee and Devin were eighteen and certainly mature enough to help him. Drew sympathized with her mother’s fear. The world had become a much more dangerous place now that there were people like Rhiannon and Morgan Le Fay in it, as well as the Cloaker and the Firestarter who had almost killed both Tris and Maggie. How many more were out there and what they could do?

  Her father was bent on making sure Michael would marry Drew whether he wanted to or not. That was just depressing. Michael’s initial noncommittal attitude had begun to turn belligerent in the face of her father’s pressure. Her mother dragged her father up to the little galley and talked seriously to him. That didn’t happen often.

  “But his power is getting stronger,” her father protested in a hushed but intense voice.

  “Shush. I know, dear.” Her mother stared at her husband intently. “And….”

  Her father pressed his lips together. But he stopped badgering Michael.

  Now Michael just hovered around her. Even though she was tired, he made her want him, against her will. She couldn’t sleep. She couldn’t talk to him. He was silent, too. Focused though. He was constantly glancing around the plane as if Rhiannon was going to come walking out of the lav. What was she supposed to make of that? Still in his charred clothes, he was like some bodyguard from hell.

  So she pretended to read the latest National Geographic. She couldn’t believe she was even doing that. Suddenly, it was if a light came on. Michael didn’t really care about her. He felt guilty. Because there was only one way Rhiannon could have known she was a Seer.

  Michael had told her.

  Drew felt her eyes fill. Did he want Morgan to bring Alice back to life so badly he’d sacrificed Drew to give Morgan what she wanted? Drew had a hard time getting her breath.

  She’d thought for a minute that, when he had rescued her, something had changed. “People don’t change,” she heard herself telling Jane. “You can’t fix people,” her mother had told her. Her life had spun out of her control entirely, and there was nothing she could do.

  They got to LAX before sunrise. Kemble had a limo waiting. The drive out to the Breakers was silent, as Brina fidgeted and Tris started to look like the Grim Reaper. Brian told the driver to push the speed limit at least three times. Drew sat on the side with her parents, trying to avoid the reaction she always had when she was next to Michael. When they got to the gates, everything seemed quiet, but no one in the limo relaxed. It was only when Jane opened the door, dressed in a demure flannel nightgown and chenille robe and slippers, anxiously surveying the group, that Drew felt better. Jane was here.

  “Everything okay?” Brian asked.

  Jane nodded. Mr. Nakamura appeared behind her in a kimono-style robe and flip-flops.

  “So sorry to get you up, Mr. Nakamura,” Brina said as she entered. They trudged in after her. “Is the guest bedroom in any shape to have a guest?”

  “Always, Mrs. Tremaine.” He and Brina went off to confer.

  “Uh, I’ll be off,” Tris said. Drew saw a light in his eyes that she wished she could see again in Michael’s expression. He backed out the door and took off for the apartment over the garages at a lope. The door at the top of the passageway along the outside opened, and Maggie stood at the railing, grinning. Drew knew exactly what they’d be doing shortly. Her body, betrayer that it was, wished she could be doing the same thing with Michael.

  “You all look bushed,” Jane said. “Is everything okay?” This she asked of Kemble.

  “Yes. Fairly okay,” he amended. “I mean, we’re all okay for now.”

  “And this is?” Jane asked gently, nodding to Michael, who was hovering near the door.

  “Oh, I forgot. This is Drew’s Destiny.” He glanced to Drew absently. “Uh, I mean Michelangelo Redmond. He likes to be called Dowser.”

  Drew wanted to die. She shook her head at Jane, trying to forestall the curiosity she saw in Jane’s expression. If Drew was alive in the morning, it was time enough to tell Jane exactly how this hadn’t worked out. Now, she just couldn’t face the pain.

  “Call me Michael,” her Destiny said, and stepped forward to shake Jane’s hand. “You all can call me Michael.”

  “I was wondering how long that would take,” her father muttered.

  “Jane Walker. I’m a friend of Drew’s.” Jane smiled at Michael.

  “Since we were ten,” Drew added. Brian wandered into the kitchen. “We’re pretty beat. Kemble, could you find Michael some clothes for tomorrow, and show him the guest room. I’m going to bed.”

  And with that she trudged up the stairs. Jane came after her. “Not now, Jane,” she said as she turned at the door.

  “I won’t ask you anything. Just thought you might need someone to unbutton you.”

  The zillion tiny buttons. “Thanks. I’m too tired even to rip them open.”

  True to her word, Jane was silent. She pulled the drapes together against the lightening sky. Then she unbuttoned the dress, pulled it off, and pulled back the bedcover, while Drew just stood there like a little child. Jane left to turn on the shower in the bathroom. That’s when it happened. The room went funny around the edges. Drew saw a wall of water fifty feet high sweeping down a canyon on an ornate old house. She gasped. As quickly as it had come it was gone. Drew looked around, confused. There hadn’t been any water to trigger the vision. Come to think of it, there hadn’t been any water when she’d seen herself wielding the sword either. What was going on here? Jane had left. Drew trudged into the bathroom and got in the shower. First she couldn’t get a vision when she needed one, and now they seemed to descend without notice. She didn’t know when the wall of water would hit that house, or if anyone was in it, or anything. What good were visions like that? When Drew had finished washing the smoke out of her hair, she crawled into bed, hair still wet.

  But she didn’t sleep. Maybe she was too tired to sleep. She felt Michael come up the stairs. She didn’t need the thud of his footsteps to know he was going past her door to the guest bedroom at the end of the hall. God, how could she be getting all hot and bothered now? She could feel Michael moving around in his room.

  She had zero future with this man. She rolled onto her back. “You can’t control this,” she whispered to herself. “You can’t make people love you.”

  Did she still want Michael to love her, even after he had been the one who told Rhiannon she was a Seer? And let’s not
forget the fact that he thought she was a silly coed. But he loved Alice, and he was twelve years older than Drew was. Those were two things she couldn’t fix. But she couldn’t hold against him that he had tried to get Alice back, even if it meant he’d been willing to sacrifice Drew. He loved Alice like Drew loved him, and she’d sacrifice about anything for him.

  Did the fact that she couldn’t fix things mean she shouldn’t press for what she wanted at all? She had to just let things happen to her? She didn’t believe that either. She couldn’t have stood by without helping Tris by braining that guy in Chicago. She had dived for the sword. What if she hadn’t done anything? They wouldn’t have gotten out of there alive. And she wouldn’t have gotten out without Michael. He’d nearly burned to death to save her. It was probably only some warped sense of honor. He had been a soldier, after all.

  But the truth was, she wanted Michael. She couldn’t make forever with him. Some things you had to accept. She couldn’t change him into not loving Alice. But maybe there was something smaller she could get.

  So she reached for the robe Jane had thoughtfully laid at the foot of her bed.

  The visions struck again. This time it was fire in a hotel. People were screaming. The scene flashed to a white stone public building. LA County Museum of Art? Her mother was crying. Kemble was trying to comfort her. Then she glimpsed a girl she didn’t know pushing light out of her hand. The visions started flashing by faster. She couldn’t stop them. It was like she was inside a kaleidoscope and she couldn’t get out. She gasped for breath, crying, and fell to the bed as the visions flashed and glittered at her.