A Touch of Magic

by Isabelle Adler

  The news of Monroe being invited to Giordano’s little shindig came in late last night. Cary and Ty had just returned to their room from their recon tour of the casino. Both of them were in a strangely dark mood, with Cary having no idea what it was Ty wanted to talk to him about (but judging by the grim set of his mouth, it was nothing good). Frankly, Cary didn’t need any extraneous relationship talk, or whatever it was Ty had planned to set the record straight between them. They were partners—in crime, but with benefits, as it happened. He knew there was nothing more, even if the thought grated. Under different circumstances he would have liked to get to know Ty better, to have more than a glimpse of the complex layers beneath the tough-guy exterior, the unexpected gentleness mixed with often ruthless efficiency. Cary had never had that easy connection before, with anyone.

  And it looked like he would never have it again. Because falling for someone who’d robbed you (and was most likely planning on doing it again) was too stupid to let happen more than once.

  In any case, he didn’t get to hear any pained explanations, because the second Ty opened his mouth, Sebastian came bursting into their suite, announcing his future engagement with a triumphant laugh, and then they were too busy setting up the audio equipment for tomorrow to have any meaningful conversation. Which had probably been for the best anyway.

  As if sensing Cary’s gaze on him, Bas looked up and winked at him conspiratorially before snapping his fingers. “A daiquiri, if you please.”

  Cary busied himself with preparing the drink. It probably wasn’t going to be the best daiquiri in the world, but that was Sebastian’s fault for not asking for something more straightforward—preferably something Cary could pour straight out of the bottle. Still, he was doing his best to appear as professional as possible, though no one was paying him any particular attention. The focus was all on the game. These were the early stages, when the players got a feel for each other’s idiosyncrasies, so the bets were still relatively low. From watching on the sidelines, Cary could already tell Gladden was going to fold early on most rounds, while Rossi and Biagi would battle it out. Tony was more difficult to read, and he probably had very different goals in mind. For him, a much larger game was afoot. But for some reason, the sorceress Ty had been so worried about helping Tony was absent.

  “How’s that condominium going, Frank?” Giordano asked after taking a peek at his freshly dealt cards and throwing a couple of chips on the table.

  Biagi stopped glaring at his opponent for a moment as he launched into an account of his newest investment in a large condominium being built somewhere on the east side of Manhattan, and the expected revenue. The other players listened politely.

  “The excitement must keep you up at night,” Rossi observed after Biagi mentioned two-year interest rates. Gladden laughed a bit too loudly, but Biagi didn’t look amused. Sebastian said nothing, his light blue eyes flicking between the two men, and then focusing on the pot.

  “Now, now, gentlemen, there’s no need for that,” Tony said in the indulgent tones of a parent chiding a naughty toddler, and just like that, the rising tension was gone. It wasn’t even deference—it was as if the little display of mutual attitude had never happened. The men smiled at each other genially and raised the stakes by another ten thousand.

  Cary blinked. If there ever had been doubts regarding the authenticity of the amulet Tony now had in his possession, that demonstration had effectively silenced them. Apparently, Ty had been correct about Cary not using the thing to its full potential. If its power was enough to turn a room full of gangsters into a church ladies’ knitting circle, it could probably do anything.

  As he brought Sebastian his drink with a polite but meaningless smile, Cary strained to catch a glimpse of the amulet, or at least get an indication of where Tony was keeping it. The thing was pretty conspicuous, and if he were wearing it around his neck, Cary would have quite a challenge ahead of him. But he couldn’t see any sign of a chain. Most likely, Tony was keeping it in his breast pocket, where it would be close enough to touch, but wouldn’t come into direct contact with his skin. It seemed even a mobster was smarter than Cary when it came to using magical artifacts.

  As he looked over the card table, Cary noted the array of jewelry. None of these men were strangers to bling when it came to gold and diamond pinky rings and signets, but Tony was wearing only a simple gold band on his ring finger. Since he wasn’t married, Cary assumed it was the ring Tony had also taken from Ty. It didn’t look like much, but he already knew enough not to trust appearances. As Ty had predicted, Giordano was wearing it, and that meant Bas couldn’t touch him with magic in any way. He and Cary were entirely on their own in their respective roles, aside from Ty listening in through the tiny mic Cary was wearing under his shirt. It felt a little like being part of a law enforcement undercover operation, except there was no chance in hell he’d ever be a part of a police sting. In any case, he hoped Ty could hear everything from his makeshift control center in their suite, because without an earpiece, there was no reverse communications channel.

  “I fold,” Gladden announced, not unsurprisingly. He was hardly betting his own money, but he wasn’t one for daring moves. Certainly not when the pot held more than a hundred thousand dollars in chips.

  “Looks like a good call,” Tony said without batting an eyelash. He took a sip of his scotch and put the tumbler down on the raised table edge.

  There was a pause as the other men let his words sink in. Even without looking at the cards, Cary could tell which of them had a good hand—Biagi and Sebastian. He wasn’t a card shark by any means, but he could recognize the behavior of a confident opponent.

  “I’m out,” Rossi said readily and threw his cards on the table. A second later, Biagi followed suit. Sebastian was the last to fold. Cary hoped this was because he was playing along, and not because he too was affected by the amulet’s magic, but it was difficult to tell. Giordano laid his cards on the table neatly, displaying a straight.

  Even the dealer looked a little shocked by this development, and there was a long pause before he dealt the cards again, as if unsure whether he should proceed. However, none of the players seemed unhappy with the situation. In fact, they now hung on to Tony’s every word and laughed at his witticisms as the evening progressed.

  As far as Cary could tell, Giordano didn’t influence the course of the game after that one incident, but his little experiments didn’t stop at that. He let tensions run high, fueling Rossi’s and Biagi’s squabbling with casual remarks, and then quelling them with a smile, or a soothing word that in other circumstances might have infuriated the men even more. He was using the room as a test ground of sorts, and so far, it was all working. Cary recognized a con when he saw one, and this had all the classic signs of a mind trick, sans the actual trick. The magic was real, but the end result was the same. The men were eating out of his hand. An hour or so of this, and Tony could win the game by simply declaring himself the winner and having everyone agree.

  So far, Cary could detect no foul play with the cards themselves. Something must have been going on, however, because gradually, the majority of the chips accumulated in front of Tony and Sebastian. And while Tony had the ability to take the participants’ money all he wanted, none of them expected the slightly goofy rich newcomer to actually clean the table. Cary could see them growing more and more frustrated. He wished Bas would tone things down just a little, but the man was clearly in his element, and Ty had promised he could keep all his winnings. Cary could hardly blame him for wanting to make as big a score as he possibly could.

  “That was some hand,” Rossi remarked to Sebastian as the dealer once again swept the chips into the sorcerer’s corner.

  “Got lucky, I suppose,” Monroe said.

  “Yeah, for a fourth time in a row,” the mafioso grumbled. Gladden, who sat on his right, shot him a quick look, but said nothing and called for another cocktail.

  Cary quickly mixed a martini, poured it into
one of the chilled glasses from the mini freezer tucked under the bar counter, and brought it over to Gladden while the dealer opened a new deck. As he collected the empty glasses, he noticed Tony rubbing the side of his chest absently, and wondered if he was feeling that slight familiar tingling.

  Cary’s heart beat faster, and he busied himself with unnecessarily wiping the edge of the game table with a paper napkin. The game could go on well into the night, but every passing minute brought him closer to the risk of exposure. Now was the time to make his move, to prove that, like Sebastian, he was there for a reason. He risked a quick glance at the sorcerer, silently willing him to make some sort of a move that would give Cary a much-needed window of opportunity.

  Bas seemed to understand his silent plea, because he inclined his head ever so slightly before taking a peek at his cards. He couldn’t do anything that would help Cary pick Tony’s pocket while that magic ring was at play, but he could certainly divert attention.

  But whatever Sebastian was going to do was doomed to remain a mystery, because at that moment the door opened, and the dark-haired woman—the same woman Cary remembered from the San Francisco parking lot—walked in, right past the two bodyguards stationed at the entrance.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “YOU MADE IT, Letti,” Tony said with an expression closer to genuine pleasure than anything Cary had seen him display all evening. He got up and showed the woman to the empty seat next to him, and then turned to the other players. “For those of you who are unfamiliar, this is my sister, Leticia.”

  “Gentlemen,” Leticia smiled with a general nod to everyone and sat down gracefully, while Cary picked up his tray and hastily retreated.

  Sister. Cary could definitely see the resemblance. Leticia boasted the same striking good looks as her brother—with the added feminine twist—though the sense of danger that was so apparent in Tony was hidden deeper, under the flair of long dark hair, the stark white pantsuit, and the subtle makeup. But the edge was definitely there, and it was no less sharp. Cary sensed it instinctively, even without knowing anything else about her apart from her being a sorceress.

  The other men murmured their greetings, although Cary could tell not all of them were happy to see her. Rossi was frowning, while Biagi had the bad taste to ogle her cleavage. Sebastian nodded curtly and promptly folded out of the round, to everyone’s surprise. He sauntered over to the bar and leaned casually on the counter, grazing out of the Chex Mix and peanuts bowl while Cary got him a beer.

  “She’s a sorceress all right,” Bas said in a barely audible whisper, taking the cold bottle from Cary’s hand. “A damn strong one, too.”

  It was all Cary could do not to glance at Leticia. He wanted to ask how Sebastian could judge that from simply looking at her, but that would be wasting precious moments. If he said the woman was a strong sorceress, Cary had better believe him and focus on the implications.

  “Can she tell you’re a sorcerer, too?” Cary asked, keeping his voice down and going through the motions of wiping a cocktail glass.

  “Depends on how suspicious she gets. If I try anything now, she’ll definitely pick up on that. I can’t risk her probing either of us too far,” Bas said in the same low tone and took a swig off his beer.

  Cary had no idea why the sorceress would probe him, but either way, they were in pretty deep shit. Ty had postulated Tony might have the sorceress close by to guide him, but not having encountered her so far, they’d believed they wouldn’t have to deal with that particular challenge. Leticia’s presence now rendered Sebastian’s presence practically useless. And that meant he and Cary would have to rely purely on trickery to pull this thing off, because jumping ship at this point was out of the question.

  “I’ll distract them somehow,” Sebastian said, pushing away the half-empty bottle. “Watch out.”

  Cary nodded. He hoped Ty had heard the exchange, although he realistically could do nothing to help them. It would give him a heads up if the situation went sour, but if it did, Cary wasn’t sure he could count on Ty to help him out. Whatever feelings Cary was stupid enough to have developed toward him, he knew all too well when push came to shove, sentiment was a hindrance.

  He flexed his fingers and took a deep breath. These thoughts weren’t at all relevant to the task at hand. This was no different than fishing a wallet out of someone’s breast pocket. He’d done it plenty of times. Magic or no magic, there was no reason to be nervous about it.

  Cary repeated the lie to himself, but it did nothing to reassure him.

  “Are you in town for business, Ms. Giordano?” Gladden asked with a smile no doubt meant to be charming. The previous round had ended with Biagi raking in the winnings, though he still didn’t come close to beating Sebastian’s current score.

  “You might say that,” Leticia said, somewhat enigmatically, and didn’t elaborate further. Cary could only guess that the “business” was closely related to Tony’s experimental application of the amulet. She didn’t join in the game, he noted. It was unusual to have someone sitting at the table without participating, but no one had the bad sense to point that out.

  “Leticia is a corporate lawyer,” Tony said. “She’s here to work out a legal strategy for our new joint venture.”

  “Don’t tell me you’re buying a hotel casino.” Biagi laughed.

  “Not with the market being what it is,” Tony said lightly. “I have something else in mind, but it’s too early to talk about it.”

  Rossi, who no doubt was in the know on Giordano’s political aspirations, if not the magical component that would make them a reality, grunted in agreement. Gladden glanced between the siblings curiously; Cary could almost see the possibilities running through his head.

  “May I have a champagne, please?” Leticia said, waiving imperiously at Cary.

  “And a gin and tonic,” Sebastian piped.

  The guy was knocking down drinks like there was no tomorrow, but to be fair, they all were. Cary could hardly tell Bas to lay off the alcohol if he wanted to keep up with the rest. He mixed the gin and tonic and poured the champagne, and brought them over to the table.

  “To the lovely lady,” Sebastian declared after they’d been served. He stood up and raised his glass in a toast of typical gallant chauvinism, which Cary assumed to be some sort of move. Leticia gave a tight smile as she sipped her champagne with mild disgust.

  Sebastian beamed at her drunkenly and brought the glass to his lips. The effort of coordinating his movements, however, must have been a little too much for him in his state, because he swayed unsteadily, almost toppling over. The full glass slipped from his hand and tumbled onto the beige felt, splattering liquid all over the tabletop, the cards, and the chips.

  For a fraction of a second, everyone froze in place, and in that moment, Cary moved in, taking advantage of the unexpected diversion while the attention of the players was rooted on the table. He swooped past Tony, his fingers brushing ever so lightly against the side of the man’s jacket and dipping into the breast pocket. He felt the familiar roughness of the amulet’s embossed surface and nearly recoiled at the heat. Cary remembered how warm it had felt against his skin when he’d used it in the past, but it was practically burning, the metal so hot it almost seared his fingertips. Perhaps it was something to do with Tony’s way of using it, with no magic of his own to feed to the thing.

  In any case, Cary didn’t stop to think about it. The amulet slipped into the pocket of his trousers unnoticed, and he started to reach for Tony’s hand for the ring.

  “How clumsy of me!” Sebastian exclaimed as he tried, even more clumsily, to straighten up the mess. Tony leaned over to push his chips away from the spillage, and Cary quickly snatched his hand away. There was no way he could take the ring off Tony’s finger without him noticing.

  Instead, he rushed to wipe the table with the tea towel draped over his arm. He hoped it was enough to cover for him moving so closely to Giordano. Cary’s heart was pounding in his ears, but it wa
s drowned out in the din of annoyed exclamations, the sound of chairs being pushed back, and Bas’s fussy apologies.

  Cary dabbed at the spreading stain with the towel. The amulet was so hot it felt like it was burning a hole in his pocket, but he’d done it. He’d gotten it back. Cary could hardly believe it had been that easy—a mere flick of his hand, and there it was, back where it belonged.

  “THAT’S ENOUGH,” ROSSI snapped at him, and Cary stepped away hurriedly.

  “Well, that was great fun, but I’m afraid that was my cue, gentlemen,” Sebastian said. He checked in with the dealer, tipped the guy a hundred-dollar chip, and gathered his winnings. “I really should call it a night. So sorry for the mess.”

  Cary could tell that did not sit well with the others. Rossi leaned back in his chair, watching Bas through narrowed eyelids. Biagi, who was even drunker than Sebastian was pretending to be, glared at him with open resentment. Even Gladden dropped his fake smile and was frowning, looking from one man to another. Enjoying a bit of a lucky streak—up to a point—was okay, but no one had counted on Sebastian actually winning and making it out with the money.

  “That’s too bad, Mr. Monroe,” Tony said. Cary could tell he was far from pleased but making an effort at appearing congenial. “Accidents happen, but there’s no reason to cut and run just yet. Why don’t you stay a while longer, keep us company?”

  “Sorry to disappoint,” Sebastian said. He shrugged apologetically and made toward the door.

  Leticia stirred in her seat and sat up sharply, looking at her brother with concern. “I can’t feel it on you,” she said.

  The forced smile slipped from Giordano’s face like an ill-fitting mask. There was no mistaking the moment when realization dawned that things weren’t going as seamlessly as they had the entire evening. His hand went to his breast pocket, looking for the amulet.

  “No one leaves,” Tony said quietly.