Wildfire
Page 48
My power pressed against the magic wall and slipped through. “True.”
The magic wall grew denser.
“I have three sisters.”
“Lie.”
Magic spilled out of him like water out of a geyser. It wrapped him in a cocoon of power. How the hell did he do that?
“I’m the only child.”
The cocoon looked impenetrable. My magic wrapped around it. The wall of power held tight. If I hammered against it with brute force, we’d be locked in a fight, his will against mine. He was strong. Very strong. Possibly stronger than I, although we wouldn’t figure it out until we clashed. A part of me really wanted to find out.
Ignore the wall. Imagine it’s porous. Imagine it’s not there.
He narrowed his eyes.
His wall was stone, but my magic was water. It slipped through the cracks. All I had to do was guide it and let it flow . . .
Lie.
“I think we should stop.” I leaned back.
The wall vanished. His magic wrapped around me. “Are you trying to appear stronger than you are or weaker?”
“Neither. I just don’t want you to know.”
“Why?”
“I don’t trust you.” I waved my hand in front of my face, as if clearing smoke. “Please keep your magic to yourself.”
He smiled. His power vanished.
“Why is there a cooler in the fridge?” Arabella called from the conference room.
When did she even get a chance to get in there? “Leave the cooler alone. Stay out of the fridge.”
“Sister?” he guessed.
I made a face at him.
“I have one myself. They are difficult at times.”
Arabella stuck her head into my office and showed me the Ziploc bag with the ear. “Why are you dressed like a soldier? Is that blood on your clothes? Also, why is there a human ear in the fridge?”
Argh. Just argh.
Garen’s eyebrows crept up.
“It’s evidence,” I ground out. “Put it back in the cooler.”
“Fine, fine.”
She went back into the conference room.
“I would very much like to take you to dinner.”
I made a show of looking down at my ACUs. “Today wouldn’t be a good day.”
“What about tomorrow?”
I raised my head and pretended to consider it. “Unfortunately, I’m in the middle of something, so I can’t promise I won’t stand you up.”
I felt something, a light click, like he’d flicked his fingers against my palm. Was it his magic working? Is that what it felt like?
“That’s okay. I’m a very patient man.”
True. He was flirting with me.
“Okay, I’ll go to dinner with you if you answer a question.”
He leaned forward, his green eyes fixed on me. “It’s a deal.”
“Do you feel a click when I spot-check your answers for truth, and if so, does everyone or is it a truthseeker thing?”
“That’s three questions.”
Two could play the flirting game. “Do you want me to come to dinner with you or not?”
He pretended to consider it. “You drive a hard bargain. Yes, no, and it is a truthseeker thing. We call it pinging. There is nothing like coming home late in a damaged car and having both parents ping you in stereo as you answer their questions. Tomorrow at six?”
“Where?”
“Bistro le Cep. They tell me that’s the best place in Houston for quiet conversation.”
I had no idea where that was. “Very well. Tomorrow at six.”
We both got up. He held the door of my office open for me. I walked him to the outside door and watched him get into a black Cadillac. The car reversed and rolled down the street, unmolested.
Arabella came up to stand next to me.
“He was pretty.”
“What was that all about? You never interrupt me while I’m with clients.”
“Bern texted me and told me to do it. He said you and he sat completely still, staring at each other for ten minutes. He thought something might have gone wrong and said I should check on you.”
Smart move. Garen would consider Bern with his wrestler build and judo shoulders a threat. But Arabella, barely five feet and maybe one hundred and ten pounds wet, would seem harmless. Garen had no idea how close he’d come to being crushed to death.
Ten minutes. Must’ve been when I was trying to find a way through his wall. Felt like a few seconds. I wonder if that’s what Augustine Montgomery felt like. Over a week ago I was trying to convince him to let me shield his mind from Victoria Tremaine, and I pulled some harmless but private information out of his mind. He never realized it happened until I told him. It was like a chunk of time simply disappeared from his memory.
Cold sweat drenched my hairline.
I spun around, ran the few feet to my office, and grabbed my laptop.
“What?” Arabella demanded. “What is it?”
The image of me and Garen sitting across from each other filled the screen.
“What can I do for you, Mr. Shaffer?”
“I’ve come to hire you.”
I clicked to fast forward. Frantic gestures and teeny voices. Blah-blah-blah . . . There.
Garen and I stared at each other. I zoomed in on myself and turned the sound up.
Nothing. I sat completely still, like a statue. So did he. No movements. No words. Just quiet staring. All my secrets were still mine.
I collapsed in the chair. I was suddenly so exhausted.
“Nevada? Are you okay?” Arabella grabbed a tissue box from the corner of the desk and thrust it at me.
I touched my face and realized I was crying.
“I think you’re stressed out,” my sister said. “I have a pack of cigarettes I’ve been hiding from Mom for when Catalina and I get stressed out. There is one left.”
“Mom is going to kill you when she finds out.”
“She won’t find out if you don’t tell her.”
I got up and hugged her.
“Are you okay?” my little sister asked.
“No. But I’m going to be. We’re all going to be.”
My laptop screamed at me. Bug’s face filled it. “Get here! Now, now, now!”
I sprinted out the door to Rogan’s HQ, Arabella at my heels.
I ran through the first floor, pounded up the stairs, and burst onto the second floor. Rynda stood next to Bug, her face pale, her phone to her ear. Kidnappers.
The magic wall grew denser.
“I have three sisters.”
“Lie.”
Magic spilled out of him like water out of a geyser. It wrapped him in a cocoon of power. How the hell did he do that?
“I’m the only child.”
The cocoon looked impenetrable. My magic wrapped around it. The wall of power held tight. If I hammered against it with brute force, we’d be locked in a fight, his will against mine. He was strong. Very strong. Possibly stronger than I, although we wouldn’t figure it out until we clashed. A part of me really wanted to find out.
Ignore the wall. Imagine it’s porous. Imagine it’s not there.
He narrowed his eyes.
His wall was stone, but my magic was water. It slipped through the cracks. All I had to do was guide it and let it flow . . .
Lie.
“I think we should stop.” I leaned back.
The wall vanished. His magic wrapped around me. “Are you trying to appear stronger than you are or weaker?”
“Neither. I just don’t want you to know.”
“Why?”
“I don’t trust you.” I waved my hand in front of my face, as if clearing smoke. “Please keep your magic to yourself.”
He smiled. His power vanished.
“Why is there a cooler in the fridge?” Arabella called from the conference room.
When did she even get a chance to get in there? “Leave the cooler alone. Stay out of the fridge.”
“Sister?” he guessed.
I made a face at him.
“I have one myself. They are difficult at times.”
Arabella stuck her head into my office and showed me the Ziploc bag with the ear. “Why are you dressed like a soldier? Is that blood on your clothes? Also, why is there a human ear in the fridge?”
Argh. Just argh.
Garen’s eyebrows crept up.
“It’s evidence,” I ground out. “Put it back in the cooler.”
“Fine, fine.”
She went back into the conference room.
“I would very much like to take you to dinner.”
I made a show of looking down at my ACUs. “Today wouldn’t be a good day.”
“What about tomorrow?”
I raised my head and pretended to consider it. “Unfortunately, I’m in the middle of something, so I can’t promise I won’t stand you up.”
I felt something, a light click, like he’d flicked his fingers against my palm. Was it his magic working? Is that what it felt like?
“That’s okay. I’m a very patient man.”
True. He was flirting with me.
“Okay, I’ll go to dinner with you if you answer a question.”
He leaned forward, his green eyes fixed on me. “It’s a deal.”
“Do you feel a click when I spot-check your answers for truth, and if so, does everyone or is it a truthseeker thing?”
“That’s three questions.”
Two could play the flirting game. “Do you want me to come to dinner with you or not?”
He pretended to consider it. “You drive a hard bargain. Yes, no, and it is a truthseeker thing. We call it pinging. There is nothing like coming home late in a damaged car and having both parents ping you in stereo as you answer their questions. Tomorrow at six?”
“Where?”
“Bistro le Cep. They tell me that’s the best place in Houston for quiet conversation.”
I had no idea where that was. “Very well. Tomorrow at six.”
We both got up. He held the door of my office open for me. I walked him to the outside door and watched him get into a black Cadillac. The car reversed and rolled down the street, unmolested.
Arabella came up to stand next to me.
“He was pretty.”
“What was that all about? You never interrupt me while I’m with clients.”
“Bern texted me and told me to do it. He said you and he sat completely still, staring at each other for ten minutes. He thought something might have gone wrong and said I should check on you.”
Smart move. Garen would consider Bern with his wrestler build and judo shoulders a threat. But Arabella, barely five feet and maybe one hundred and ten pounds wet, would seem harmless. Garen had no idea how close he’d come to being crushed to death.
Ten minutes. Must’ve been when I was trying to find a way through his wall. Felt like a few seconds. I wonder if that’s what Augustine Montgomery felt like. Over a week ago I was trying to convince him to let me shield his mind from Victoria Tremaine, and I pulled some harmless but private information out of his mind. He never realized it happened until I told him. It was like a chunk of time simply disappeared from his memory.
Cold sweat drenched my hairline.
I spun around, ran the few feet to my office, and grabbed my laptop.
“What?” Arabella demanded. “What is it?”
The image of me and Garen sitting across from each other filled the screen.
“What can I do for you, Mr. Shaffer?”
“I’ve come to hire you.”
I clicked to fast forward. Frantic gestures and teeny voices. Blah-blah-blah . . . There.
Garen and I stared at each other. I zoomed in on myself and turned the sound up.
Nothing. I sat completely still, like a statue. So did he. No movements. No words. Just quiet staring. All my secrets were still mine.
I collapsed in the chair. I was suddenly so exhausted.
“Nevada? Are you okay?” Arabella grabbed a tissue box from the corner of the desk and thrust it at me.
I touched my face and realized I was crying.
“I think you’re stressed out,” my sister said. “I have a pack of cigarettes I’ve been hiding from Mom for when Catalina and I get stressed out. There is one left.”
“Mom is going to kill you when she finds out.”
“She won’t find out if you don’t tell her.”
I got up and hugged her.
“Are you okay?” my little sister asked.
“No. But I’m going to be. We’re all going to be.”
My laptop screamed at me. Bug’s face filled it. “Get here! Now, now, now!”
I sprinted out the door to Rogan’s HQ, Arabella at my heels.
I ran through the first floor, pounded up the stairs, and burst onto the second floor. Rynda stood next to Bug, her face pale, her phone to her ear. Kidnappers.
