“Of course, a magician would go to Harvard Divinity School,” Devin said, disgusted.
Kemble gave him a severe look. “They’re sworn to secrecy, but he owed me. He told me it was rumored that Pendragon was a Magister.”
“What’s that?” Kee asked.
“Apparently, a really high-level magician.” Kemble shrugged.
“I guess that’s good,” Kee said slowly. “A powerful man would want to collect powerful artifacts. What else did you find?”
“I found out on my own that he—or his father—really cut a swath in his time. Liked the ladies. Rumor had it he stole Jane Russell from Howard Hughes in the forties. Burned down a house doing some ceremony where all the women present were naked and there was a two-headed goat. That sort of thing.”
“That would have been splashed all over the papers,” Kee said.
“But no. And that’s the strange part. It was very difficult to pick up anything about him. Some bits I got out of private diaries. There were some whispers here and there. But he must have somehow suppressed any reporting about himself and his activities. The son is a recluse. My Golden Dawn friend said the society itself had been trying to get to Pendragon’s collection of artifacts, but he wouldn’t let them have any part of it.”
“Did your friend know what was in the collection?”
“No. Apparently no one does.”
“Great.” Devin sighed. “So, how are you going to find out what’s in it, and how are you going to steal the Talisman if he has one?”
Kemble and Kee stared. Devin had a way of cutting to the heart of the matter.
“I knew we needed your perspective,” Kemble said. The corners of his eyes crinkled. “I guess I have to get an appointment with him.”
“Why would he see you?” Devin asked.
“And why would he show me his collection?” Kemble shook his head, thinking. “I could pretend to want to buy it, but Museum Guy says he’s turned down all sorts of offers.”
Kee was half amused and half outraged that Kemble kept calling Christian “Museum Guy.” But there was no use protesting. Brothers. If she protested it would only make him intransigent. If she just ignored it they might move on.
“At least he doesn’t know about our magic,” Kemble said. “We’ve kept a low profile, and we don’t travel in those mumbo-jumbo circles.”
The answer to their problem came to Kee. It frightened her.
“What?” Devin asked. Dev knew she had an idea. He always knew what she was thinking.
She held up a hand as the pieces fell into place in her mind. What would their father say? So not right. And the very thought made her afraid. But what could she do? They needed a Talisman. “Maybe the wrong people have asked him. I bet I can get an appointment with him.”
“You?” Kemble sounded more than doubtful.
“Yeah,” she said. She was torn. She was going to be useful to this little crusade after all. In fact, she was going to be indispensable. Unless they got Drew instead. But the Parents wouldn’t like this plan. She took a deep breath. “He likes pretty women. A lot. You said so.”
“Well, his father.…”
“Like father, like son.” She chewed her lip. “So, what if I ask him for an appointment? I’ll send it on official museum stationary. He’ll look me up online. And that means he’ll see that picture Lanyon posted on my timeline of that picnic we had down at the beach.”
“The one with you in the bikini?” Devin frowned.
“That might work,” Kemble said slowly. “With his history.”
“No way is Kee going to go see some old lecher.” Devin’s voice had iron in it. That might be a tone she’d never heard. Surprising.
“I … I won’t be alone,” Kee said, turning to her brother. “Kemble will be with me. You can be the moneyman and talk contracts and stuff. I’ll be the representative of the museum.”
“We shouldn’t let him know we’re Tremaines,” Kemble mused. “That will protect your identity, Keelan. I don’t want him knowing who you are.” Kemble nodded to himself, thinking. “Maybe it would be better if we got Drew….”
Maybe he was right. But Kee was tired of feeling useless, and if the Parents wouldn’t approve—well, she was tired of being a good girl too. “Drew’s a little unstable right now.” Kee might be overplaying her hand here. “Until she gets her gift under control,” she hastened to add.
“Hmm. The real danger to involving Drew is Michael.” Kemble was thinking out loud. “You know how protective he is of her. He might tell Senior and then it would be all over. I know you’re probably concerned about doing something like this, Kee. But I’ll take full responsibility if they find out. Senior trusted me to find the Talismans. It sounds like Drew isn’t getting anywhere. And I think your plan is a good one. Maybe the only one.”
Kee could see the wheels clicking behind his eyes. What had she started here?
“I’ll get up some false identity papers for us.…”
“Count me in,” Devin said.
“Absolutely not,” Kee protested. “This is a job for two people—only. If … if I’m going to get in trouble, you might as well stay clean.”
“Then I’ll tell Brian and nobody will be going.”
Kemble went pale. Kee was outraged. Threats, from Devin of all people, when she’d been loyal to him through thick and thin? “What a horrid, dirty thing to do, Dev.”
Kemble held up a hand. “No, Keelan, it’s okay. We need Devin. We can wire him with a camera. While we’re talking to Pendragon, he can be recording anything we find.”
“What pretense can he have for being there? We can’t just drag him along for fun.”
There was a moment of silence and Kee thought she might win through. There was no way she wanted Devin in danger. And who knew what a Magister of the Golden Dawn might do if he got suspicious? She was desperate to be useful to the family, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t scared. It suddenly occurred to her that Devin might need to be useful too. Neither one of them had magic. And Devin didn’t even have the possibility of getting it.
“Okay,” she said grudgingly. “How about if he’s … security or something.”
“For the insurance company who would insure the exhibit?” Devin asked tentatively.
Kemble raised his brows. “You’re a little young. But not bad. You’re in, my boy.”
Devin gave a terse nod. There was something more in his eyes, but she couldn’t read what it might be. That was unsettling. She’d always been able to read Dev like a book.
Kemble clapped his hands. “Okay. We’ve all got work to do. Keelan, get me some samples of business cards from the museum, stationery, and I’ll need your docent ID. Devin, I’ll do some tutoring in surveillance techniques so you can sound like you know what you’re doing.”
“I’ll pump Edwards, discreetly. He’ll have some ideas.”
“Good thinking. He’s had years of experience. But don’t tell him the plan.”
“What are you going to do, Kemble?” Kee asked.
“Study up on contractual arrangements for the loan of art and artifacts.”
“Maybe I can talk Christian into giving us an example.”
“I wouldn’t. He might guess what we’re doing.” Kemble chewed on his bottom lip for a minute. “I don’t think we want anybody in on this. Not even Drew.”
“Not even Jane?” Kee asked.
“Especially not Jane. She would definitely disapprove.” Kemble gave a faux shudder.
“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but it’s really hard to keep things from Jane,” Kee said.
“Well for God’s sake, try.” Kemble turned back to his computer. They were clearly dismissed.
Devin got up too, but then turned back. “One problem.”
“What?” Kemble asked, his voice absent now, his attention focused on his screen.
“How will we get out of here without a crowd of Brian’s security people tailing us, ready to report back to him?”
/> Kemble looked thoughtful. “You’re just full of good questions tonight.” He nodded to himself. “You leave that to me.”
*****
“Keelan,” her mother called from downstairs. “Telephone.”
Kee stepped into the library to take the call on the Breakers’ landline. Who would be calling her at home? She didn’t have friends, and the museum staff used her cell.
“This is Keelan Tremaine,” she said, after hearing the click of her mother hanging up the extension downstairs.
“I thought so, regardless of what you called yourself in your letter.” The voice at the other end of the line was male, and, well, virile sounding. Kee had a moment of dislocation before she realized who it must be.
“Thank you for calling, Mr. Pendragon.” Someone was pounding up the stairs. Kee’s heart was pounding too. How had he found out she was a Tremaine? They had carefully worded the letter, signed with a fake name for which Kemble had created a whole online identity. “How … how did you know I had written the letter?”
“My Ouija board told me,” the voice said dryly. “And it, at least, never lies.”
Kemble appeared in the doorway, looking frantic, Devin right behind him. “Pendragon?” he mouthed silently.
She nodded, thinking fast. “Well, I’m sorry about the, uh, lack of transparency, but I didn’t want you to know who was behind the request.”
“Why not?” the voice asked sharply.
“Because the price would have gone up substantially, don’t you think?”
There was a wry chuckle at the other end of the phone. “Possibly. Come to dinner tomorrow night. Alone.”
Kee swallowed and took her courage in her hands. “I’d love to come to dinner,” she said, waving away Devin, who was shaking his head frantically. “But with your reputation as a ladies’ man, Mr. Pendragon, I’ll bring some backup. Just this time.”
“What makes you think there will be a next time?” The voice sounded amused underneath its severity.
“My Ouija board tells me.”
A sharp bark of laughter crackled through the phone. “Ten o’clock. I keep Continental hours. Don’t be late.”
The line went dead.
Kee looked up at her brother and Devin. “We’re on. Tomorrow at ten.”
“How did he know to call here for you?” Kemble frowned. “Your cover was perfect.”
Obviously not, but since Kemble had created it he was unlikely to admit that. “I have no idea. He said his Ouija board told him.”
“Great. The Magister of the Golden Dawn gets his information from some kids’ game.” Devin looked disgusted.
“Looks like the kids’ game was pretty accurate.” Kemble tapped his finger to his lips. “But this doesn’t mean we need to change our story. I’m the one who signs the checks to the museum. That still makes me the moneyman.” He turned to Devin. “But he’ll never believe you’re security for an insurance company. He will have researched the family.”
“Then I just go because I’m going. Let him like it or lump it.” Devin sounded firm. “You still need pictures of his collection. If we get to see it.”
Kemble and Kee both sighed. “Okay,” Kemble said. “All that preparation, and for what?” He turned and headed for the door. “How did he know it was us?” he muttered under his breath.
Kee was left alone with Devin for the first time since he’d practically run away from her in the hall outside her room. The scab on his chin made him look older, like a man of the world. She was acutely conscious of the swell of his biceps beneath his t-shirt sleeve. Something between her legs began to tingle. She blinked in disbelief that was quickly turning to horror.
You could cut the silence with a knife. Kee cleared her throat and tried to get hold of herself. Anything was better than silence. “So, uh, how did the date on Saturday go with … Sybil? Is that her name?” Then again, maybe not better. Kee was washed with a wave of … what? Jealousy? Hurt? Outrage? The intensity of it surprised her.
“Fine,” Devin muttered. Then louder, “It went just fine. She’s … she’s a nice girl.” He examined Kee’s face. His throat was strong-looking, but the notch of his neck vulnerable where his throat pulsed.
Pull it together, Kee, she admonished herself, trying to get her breath. It’s not like you haven’t known this would happen. But the tingle between her thighs had turned to a throb and a wet gush. “Oh good,” she managed somehow. “Did you, um, surf?”
Devin looked away. “Weather wouldn’t give me a break. But we, uh, had coffee.”
Kee nodded, perhaps a touch too convulsively. “Good. That’s good.” Silence fell. Don’t do it. Don’t you dare do it. But she couldn’t help herself. “You going to see her again?”
Devin picked at a loose thread in the upholstery of the side chair. “Well, I didn’t get to teach her to surf … so yeah. I guess.”
Like he wasn’t sure? He was sure. He was covering up—she could always tell with Devin. Kee bet he could hardly wait to see the stupid cow.
What had come over her? She was actually breathing hard. She was wet between her legs and overwhelmed. Something was happening here and she didn’t understand it. She wouldn’t understand it. “Good,” she choked. She turned like a coward and dashed for the door.
She didn’t stop running until she got to her room. By then she was crying.
Because could no longer avoid knowing what was wrong.
She locked herself in the walk-in closet without turning on the light and flung herself down into the corner behind the formal dresses. They settled like a curtain around her.
Panic drove up from her belly into her throat. How had she not seen it? Looking back, it had been coming on for a while. She loved Dev like a brother. He was her friend. But now she wanted him—as in physical, sexual wanting.
Her brother. Someone who could never have magic.
Wrong on so many counts it defined new levels of wrong. What’s going on here?
She hugged her knees to her chest, tears tracking down her cheeks, as the implications sank in. How long had she been feeling—those feelings—when she looked at him? Flashes of him in the sunlight flipped through her brain. The way his thighs bunched in his wetsuit. The oblique abdominals curving over his hips when he was wearing his board shorts.…
Oh, my God. She’d been thinking about him as a man for months. She’d just suppressed it. Until now. Her thoughts flitted around like they were looking for escape.
It couldn’t be the real thing, Destiny, the One. That love struck like lightning and you knew it instantly and it was all-consuming, romantic love. And you got a magic power. Her feeling for Devin didn’t strike like lightning. She’d known him forever and she’d been thinking about him, uh, sexually (that word just hurt) for a while. She hadn’t gotten a power either. Devin didn’t have magic in his genes, so she couldn’t get a power from thinking about him…that way. Her mother had done the research so carefully, since technically he was a very distant relation of the Tremaines. No trace of magic in his parents’ lives, or grandparents’. His was a dead-end line.
Then there was the fact that he didn’t want Kee in return, which sort of put the nail in that coffin. He was actually avoiding her these days. And he was going out with someone else.
As he should. Kee was his sister. She tried to get her breath, gripping some gauzy fabric from a dress in both hands. She brought a fistful up to her mouth, as if she could stifle the feelings she was having. Her parents thought she was a good girl? She defined new levels of bad.
She swallowed. She had to think. She couldn’t just cry about things, even this.
So this is some … some temporary, sicko infatuation, she told herself. She was just crazy over waiting on her magic, and never meeting anybody, and this aberration sneaked up on her because … well, she didn’t know why.
But it would all be fine. She wasn’t in love with her brother. She was just.…
Okay, she didn’t know what she just was. In lust? That
sounded so bad. But she would meet the One she was destined for, eventually, and this would all be just a bad dream. In the meantime, she’d simply suppress these feelings about him.
No one could ever know. Devin especially. He’d hate her if he realized how she thought about him. Hell, her whole family would hate her. A flash of the look she would see in her mother’s eyes if she knew how Kee felt made her breath hitch in her throat. And her father? Kee couldn’t even think about that.
She’d be fine. Just forget all about it. And she’d stop hiding in her closet, eventually. She knew that because her butt was getting numb. At some point, she had to move, even if it seemed impossible right this minute. She could face them. But she was really glad it wouldn’t be until tomorrow.
CHAPTER FIVE
Devin watched Kee run out of the office, stunned. Had he seen a flash of horror in her expression? He hoped to God she didn’t know how he felt, but why else would she look that way? He pushed his hand through his hair. If she knew how he felt about her, he’d just die. He wanted to run until he dropped, scream as loud as he could, smash the glass on the French doors with his fist until he bled and the physical pain made the other pain go away.
But he couldn’t do that. He grabbed a big breath and let it out slowly. And again.
He couldn’t indulge in any of the things that might make him feel better, because he’d be giving off signals to his supersensitive adoptive family that things weren’t right with him, and they’d pick at him until they discovered what it was, and then they’d probably throw him out.
That would be best for everyone concerned. Even him, with how seeing Kee every day was making him feel.
Waiting for Magic Page 7
