A Kind of Magic (16 page)

She lay on her back, closed her eyes, and instead of counting sheep, she imagined dancers whirling through a ballroom, one after another. At first, they were dressed like characters in her show, in Regency gowns, but she made the skirts fuller, so they swirled around the dancers, enveloping them in a cloud of tulle and chiffon. One dancer, two dancers, three dancers, four, five, six …

Then she was dancing among them, feeling her shoes slide along the marble floor and her skirt brush against her legs as she turned. Was she there? Had it worked? In the dream, she didn’t care.

She heard music, not in the dream, but elsewhere. Opening her eyes, she found herself back in her room, but she still heard the music, and it wasn’t coming from the street, the stairwell, or upstairs. It was coming from the big mirror on the wall over her bed, the one that was supposed to make the tiny room look bigger. Now instead of reflecting the bookcase on the opposite wall, it was glowing, looking like light was streaming in from another room where all the lamps were on.

That had to be what she was hoping for. Throwing back the covers, she sprang to her feet, caught her balance on the mattress, and jumped forward into the mirror.

She found herself on an outdoor lane lined with trees. It reminded her of the grounds of old plantation houses back home. Strains of distant music floated toward her, and she hurried down the lane in the direction of the sound. It felt like she’d been running forever, and yet at the same time like she’d only taken a few steps, when she came upon a pavilion. Delicate arches twined with ivy and roses supported a crystal roof, under which a grand ball was in progress. Dancers like the ones in her dream circled through the pavilion to music played by a small ensemble sitting in the garden.

She was glad she’d put on a good nightgown because all the dancers wore elaborate formal wear. She thought she spotted Eamon on the other side of the pavilion and ran down the garden path to reach him. Glancing down to check her footing when she reached a short flight of steps, she saw that she was dressed the same as the other female dancers. Eamon, too, wore something like the uniform of Cinderella’s prince.

“It worked!” she cried out, throwing her arms around him. The other dancers continued circling the floor, acting like they didn’t even see them. “So, this is where everyone goes?”

“This is where you go. Each person’s experience is likely perceived differently.”

“So I’m only here in my head? But how are people ending up with stress fractures?”

“Your body is in a place, and it will dance. Your mind is in a different place.”

“Okay. That’s weird.”

He smiled at her, his silvery eyes glittering. “You are dealing with the fae. I believe weird is to be expected. Now, shall we dance?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

The music swept them along, and she hardly felt her feet touch the floor. A gown like this should have been heavy, but it was a whisper around her. His hand on her back felt real, though, as did the hand that gripped her right hand. “Have you had a chance to talk to Nana?” she asked, remembering her ostensible excuse for this adventure.

“I have seen her only in passing.”

“Well, Sophie needs you to get a message to her. Y’all have really got to dial back the activity in our world for a while because the enchantresses have noticed, and it’s triggering some kind of power struggle that could be bad for everyone. Sophie can’t do anything because they may be watching her, and it probably wouldn’t go over well if they knew she was part fae. That’s kind of why I did this tonight, to see you and pass on the message.”

“I will endeavor to relay it. Was that all you wanted to do here tonight?” His smile was teasing.

She couldn’t help but smile in response. “Well, I’m here, so I may as well dance. I have tomorrow off, so as long as I don’t break anything, I’m good.”

She was still trying to wrap her head around the idea that she really was physically here, present enough that if she got injured, she’d still be injured in the real world in the morning, but that also all of this was taking place in her head, and she might be in another place entirely where nothing looked like what she was seeing.

“Where are we, really?”

“I don’t have the words for it. You are in the Realm, but in a different kind of space. If you were in a different state of mind or if you’d come here more directly, you would see something different, and not nearly as nice. Your friend was here when you saw him at the revel.”

“So I’m at a revel now, physically?”

“No. You are in a fairyland. There is no revel tonight.”

“This makes no sense.”

“It isn’t supposed to.”

She decided that trying to parse it would only ruin the fun, so she gave in to the moment and let herself get carried away with the dance and the sensation of being in Eamon’s arms. The music slowed, and he pulled her closer so they could move as one in a sensuous step that reminded her of a tango. “You mentioned that there were other kinds of dreams that could become real like this,” she whispered into his ear. “Would that be the same way of being here and there at the same time—meeting halfway between your world and my world?”

“I have no experience with that,” he said. “It’s a different kind of fae who indulges in that kind of behavior.”

“But could you do it?”

“Perhaps if the occasion required it. Is this something that has happened to one of your friends?”

Was he really that dense or was he playing dense to avoid embarrassment? Surely he could tell that she was practically inviting him to ravish her in this dreamlike space between worlds. She knew he’d read enough romance novels. “No, I was just curious about it. I mean, I’ve read some stuff that sounds like it, and if the barriers really are weakening, then it’s the kind of thing that might happen. You’ve got to wonder how many relationships have happened between humans and fae like that over the years.”

“They seldom end happily. Someone has to give up everything, and that is not easy, no matter how much love there is.”

“But wouldn’t something like this be a kind of compromise, not really in either world?”

“Would that be enough if you really loved someone?”

That sounded an awful lot like what Athena had said. Emily wasn’t sure why she was pushing this so hard. She wasn’t even sure she was in love with him. She liked being with him and liked kissing him, but was that merely the excitement and novelty, or was it something more? Maybe this was just something she needed to get out of her system.

“Does it have to be love?” she asked.

“It seldom is,” he said, quite somberly, and she didn’t know how to take that. She decided that this was a good time to be patient and not push. That would give both of them the chance to figure out whatever it was that had developed between them.

She couldn’t help but hope that some new crisis would arise and force them off on an adventure together. That would probably settle everything, one way or another.

A new sound intruded on the scene, clashing with the music being played for the dancers. No one else seemed to hear it. “What is it?” Eamon asked when Emily stopped dancing to listen to it.

“I think it’s my ringtone,” she said, finally recognizing the tune. Suddenly, she knew she had to leave. It was a compulsion, and she felt helpless to resist. The next thing she knew, she’d pulled away from Eamon and was running toward the tree-lined lane. In her haste, she brushed by a rose vine, scratching the back of her hand, but she kept going without breaking stride and ran down the lane. Now she knew how Cinderella felt, forced to flee the ball as the clock struck. It would have been appropriate to kick off one of her shoes, but she couldn’t make herself slow down enough to do so.

She saw the end of the passage growing nearer, a dark spot on the horizon. She leaped into the darkness.

And woke with a gasp, sitting straight up in bed, the covers sliding down to her waist. The mirror over her bed was just a mirror, reflecting the room. Her phone was still ringing. She reached for it groggily and saw Olivia’s name on the display. “What is it?” she growled.

“A group of us were going out, and I thought I’d give you a shout,” Olivia said. “Were you asleep?”

“I must have drifted off while reading.”

“Then get up, put on your glad rags, and I’ll swing by.”

Emily thought it highly unlikely that she’d be able to make a return trip to the dream Realm, if she really had been there and it wasn’t all just a dream. She might as well go out dancing for real. “Okay, sure. See you in a bit.”

As she put her phone down and swung her legs around to get out of bed, she noticed a fresh, raw scratch on the back of her hand.

That hadn’t happened while she was lying in bed.

The Precinct

Monday, 9:00 a.m.

“Oh, glorious daytime, how I’ve missed you!” Mari declared as she fell into her desk chair. “Did you forget we were switching shifts, Rev? Have you been here all night?”

Michael gave his partner an indulgent smile. “No. Just got here early, is all.” He’d wanted a little time to dig into case files before his partner showed up to look over his shoulder.

“Oh yeah, that’s the old Reverend Saint Michael work ethic, arise and shine, the early bird catches the worm, and all that. And I hear you’re a hero.”

“A hero?”

“Finding the lost kids? Geez, Rev, is it so all in a day’s work for you that you don’t even remember saving the day?”

He had actually forgotten, but because so much had happened since then. “I was in the right place at the right time.”

She placed her hand on her heart and gazed piously toward heaven. “Guided by the hand of God.”

“More like guided by Emily’s dog. He thinks of children as treat dispensers, so he homes in on them.”

“But I bet that doesn’t stop the brass from pinning another medal on you. Wasn’t there a reward?”

“I don’t think that stumbling on them qualifies me for any reward. The families have dropped off some dog toys for Beau, though.”

“You’re so modest, Rev. You make the rest of us look bad.” She went to fill her coffee cup, returned, and started going through her paperwork. A few minutes later, she stopped and stared at him across their facing desks. “What were you doing in the park at night, anyway?”

“Walking the dog.”

“Um, no. After dark, in that weather, you walk the dog on the sidewalk in front of your building.” She checked something on her computer, then grinned and shouted in triumph. “Aha! You weren’t just with the dog. You were with your neighbor’s sister. That’s the ballerina, right? The one Tank’s afraid of?”

“Tank’s not afraid of her.”

“His right eye twitches when anyone mentions her. He breaks out in a cold sweat when he sees a redhead.”

“You’re exaggerating. Sophie can be a bit direct, but that’s it.” That was, as long as magic didn’t come into play.

“I thought she lived in Louisiana.”

“She’s in town for a ballet. She’s the Snow Queen in
The Nutcracker
.”

Mari tore a memo sheet into tiny pieces and threw them at him so they showered him like confetti. “And now we know why you quit wearing your wedding ring—finally. Yeah, I’m a highly trained detective. I notice these things. It had nothing to do with facing the fact that it was time to move on. It was because you had someone to move on to. Way to go, Rev! Welcome back to the land of the living.”

He decided it was best to let her have her fun and not protest, because he was bound to look like a liar if he did. Sophie really had nothing to do with his decision to move on with his life. That was all about his wife’s choice to remain in the Realm rather than return to him. But he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about that kiss with Sophie. It had been purely meant as a ruse, nothing more, and yet it affected him as though it had been real. He told himself that it was merely because she was the first woman he’d kissed in seven years. At any rate, with the feel of his lips on hers and his arms around her still lingering, he didn’t dare try to deny that anything was happening.

Instead, he raised an eyebrow at Mari and returned his focus to work. Aside from the drowned woman and the nixie incident, he didn’t spot any obvious increase in unusual events in reports from park patrols. He was pretty sure that someone would have said something if they’d seen an odd patch of summer. Or would they? It was the kind of thing that was hard to believe if you didn’t know it was possible, and putting that in a report would be asking for a psych evaluation.

There also didn’t seem to be any crime statistics that could be taken to represent fairy activity. Things got pretty quiet at this time of year because even muggers didn’t enjoy being out in the cold with sparse crowds to prey upon. There’d been a few pickpocketing incidents around the ice rinks, but the only thing that looked remotely suspicious to him was the one report of a streaker over the weekend. That kelpie guy before the incident he’d seen? Since he’d yet to hear from the woman again, he held off on filing a report on that incident. Michael doubted the kelpie would be a problem anymore, thanks to his encounter with Sophie.

He spent the rest of the morning calling the pickpocketing victims to see if they’d noticed anything that would allow him to get a description or find a pattern. At lunchtime, he put on his coat and started to head out.

“Ooh, hot lunch date, Rev?” Mari teased him.

“Something like that.”

He headed into the park and walked the path from Belvedere Castle toward the Shakespeare Garden. This wasn’t the best time of year to be spending his lunch break looking at a garden, but he’d encountered fae activity in this area in the past, and the cold weather—with occasional drifting snowflakes—meant he was alone in this part of the park.

He reached the garden and had to do a double take. If it hadn’t been snowing, he might have thought it was August. The garden was in full bloom, with the flowers bright against the gray sky. New Yorkers were notoriously oblivious to anything that didn’t directly affect them, but he’d have thought the park’s keepers would have noticed this sort of thing.