A Kind of Magic (23 page)

“Yeah, right,” Emily said with a snort. Olivia’s joke had triggered a memory, but she couldn’t quite grasp where the thought was taking her. Ah well, she was sure it would come to her later, probably in the shower. On the bright side, Olivia still seemed to be in great health, even while turning in consistently outstanding performances. She really did seem to be doing this on pure talent because there was nothing in the folklore about fairy muses who made people happy and healthy.

She froze.
That
was it. Was Charles affected by one of those leanan sidhe things? It would explain his improved performance, but would that have anything to do with his sudden attention to Emily? She added that to her mental list of things to ask Sophie.

Speaking of Sophie, Emily checked her phone as soon as she reached her dressing room, but there were no messages. She supposed no news was good news. Just in case, she scrolled through local news headlines and saw nothing about a disaster at Lincoln Center. There was one positive review of the ballet, though, saying it was a more exciting
Nutcracker
than had been seen in years. Sophie even got a shout-out for her “bravura” turn as the Snow Queen.

It was snowing lightly when Emily left the theater. New York never really got quiet, especially not in this part of town, but there seemed to be a bit of a hush in the air. A tingle went down her spine. It was times like this when she got the sense that anything could happen. Normally that got her excited, but now she was worried.

She wasn’t expecting to find Eamon, since she’d sent him to the ballet, but she couldn’t help but glance around for him, just in case. She’d probably overly romanticized him. They’d gone through a lot together, and certain things had happened between them, but that didn’t mean it meant anything, and he really was a sort of alien being, so she couldn’t expect him to feel quite the same way. What she needed was to move on and find a nice human guy who’d age the same way she did—and not Charles. She wasn’t that desperate.

For a moment, she considered finding a bar and having a drink or two, but she was tired and didn’t feel particularly social. Instead, she hailed a cab and headed home. Beau greeted her about as enthusiastically as he was capable of, which she interpreted as him desperately needing a walk, so she took him out. For a moment, she let herself hope that this was one of those times when his instincts told him they needed to be somewhere. How many times had he dragged Michael to exactly the place he needed to be?

But it seemed that Beau’s needs were a lot more mundane tonight. He finished his business at the nearest tree and immediately headed up the front steps. He flopped onto his bed and started snoring as soon as she removed his leash, and she wearily got ready for bed.

As she drifted off to sleep, she found herself thinking about Eamon and about fairies in general. Jen Murray had chosen to stay in the Realm forever. Was she that happy there? Was it worth giving up her acting career and her husband? Emily didn’t even have a husband to give up. Would she feel that great a loss if she got to stay young forever in the Realm with Eamon? There was singing and dancing there. Her grandmother lived there, and Sophie could visit anytime she wanted.

It wasn’t a decision to make lightly, and she’d have to know more about where she stood with Eamon, how she felt and how he felt. But she didn’t think he’d let on what he felt or maybe even let himself feel until and unless she’d already made that commitment.

Or was she using the idea of Eamon to avoid dealing with anyone in the real world? She liked him. She wanted him. But were her feelings really that strong, or was it merely a fantasy fueled by the fact that it didn’t seem like she could have him?

She rolled over and punched her pillow back into shape, forcing her mind to drift. Instead of counting sheep, she imagined the falling snow and counted snowflakes. But the snowflakes turned into dancers, and next thing she knew, she was dancing with them in the ballroom she’d visited before.

But the man who danced with her wasn’t Eamon.

Lincoln Center

11:15 p.m.

Michael lowered Sophie gently to the ground, and she winced as her feet took her weight again. It had felt so very nice being off her feet for a moment, and now it was like she was standing on broken glass. She kept close by Michael, drawing some reassurance from his solid presence, as Josephine approached her. She was alone, without her cronies, which meant the gloves were off, none of them having any obligation to play nice. Fortunately, Amelia and Athena were there, as was Michael’s Mrs. Smith. The bag lady was surprisingly elegant tonight, proving that one couldn’t judge on appearances. To make things even more fun, Eamon was there, as well, with at least one other fairy. There were some people milling nearby, but Sophie couldn’t tell if they were civilians or part of this conflict.

The snow intensified, oddly falling
around
them rather than
on
them. It formed a curtain, veiling them from the rest of the world. Anyone on the outside might just see snow rather than whatever was about to happen here. Meanwhile, the snowy barrier muffled the noise of the city, leaving the world eerily quiet. Sophie didn’t know who had triggered the snowfall. Like the snow monster, she couldn’t tell what kind of magic had formed it. In some respects it felt fae in origin, but there was something different. And yet it didn’t seem to be enchantress magic. She hoped there wasn’t yet another faction involved. She also hoped the screen didn’t mean that something awful was about to happen.

Bracing herself for a confrontation, Sophie gave Josephine her best fake smile. “I hope you’re free every evening and weekend afternoon until Christmas. They’re going to want that snow monster at every performance. It was a big hit.”

“You had little enough trouble vanquishing it.” Apparently, Josephine wasn’t going to bother denying it. “I’m impressed that such a new enchantress was able to do so.”

“I’m sorry your plan to force me to reveal myself as fae didn’t work.”

Josephine almost managed to hide her reaction. “What makes you think that was my plan?”

“Why else would a snow monster attack me in public? I know you know what I am. You must have learned it from your fae friends.”

“Fae friends?”

“I saw your meeting in the park the other night. You might be rallying the troops to fight the fae, but you’re involved with them, yourself.” With a barely restrained sigh, she added, “I don’t even know why you’re bothering with me. I’m not standing in the way of your ambition to take over the enchantresses, or whatever it is you’re trying to do. In this world, I’m a nobody. All I care about is that you don’t damage people or fairies along the way.”

Sophie thought she was being conciliatory, but this enraged Josephine. Her eyes flashed, and her aura flared so brightly with rage that Sophie could see it without relying on magical senses. “You know nothing of my ambitions, fairy princess,” she spat, injecting venom into her words so that they became an insult.

Eamon moved into the group, looking surprisingly formidable. Usually he presented himself more like an absent-minded professor, but he was distinctly fae now, with his unearthly coloring, a radiant aura, and a sense of total control. “You are the one who has lowered the barriers between the Realm and the human world?” he asked Josephine, his tone making it an accusation rather than a question. “You have also been plotting against the queen and threatening the princess. Your conspirators have been captured and have confessed. This can not stand.”

Sophie glanced at Michael, and he raised an eyebrow. Was this a bluff, or had Nana finally dug to the bottom of it all?

“I have done no such thing,” Josephine said in a huff.

“Oh, give it a break, Josephine,” Amelia said, crossing her arms over her chest. “You’re not fooling anyone. Do you really want to lead the enchantresses that badly?”

Josephine surprised Sophie by smiling. It seemed like a genuine smile of pure joy, not a bluff at all, and that sent chills down Sophie’s spine. What were they missing?

Eamon and his colleagues moved toward Josephine, getting between her and Sophie. “I think not,” Josephine said, holding up one hand in a “stop” gesture while gesturing with her other hand at that group lurking nearby. Her smug, confident smile slipped when they approached, but instead of coming to her aid, they joined Eamon’s crew. They were fae, Sophie could see now, but had been very well disguised. She now wondered how many fairies had been in the audience tonight.

But why would Josephine have assumed the fae would come to her aid? She was an enchantress, their natural enemy. She might have been scheming with fairies, but would she really have had any reason to believe that they’d stand up for her against other fae?

The fae closed in around Josephine, and Sophie thought for a moment that they’d take care of the problem for her, but then Athena moved to Josephine’s side and threw up a defensive barrier. After a moment’s hesitation, her sister joined her. “You’re helping her?” Sophie blurted in shock.

“She’s enchantress, they’re fae. We’ve sworn an oath,” Amelia said, sounding like she was swallowing cod liver oil. Athena looked like she was in pain. But they both stood their ground against the fae.

“And where do you stand, fairy princess?” Josephine asked, all her smug back again.

“I haven’t sworn any oaths to anyone, so let’s just say I’m standing on the side of sanity and against megalomania.” Turning her ire to her erstwhile allies, she scolded Amelia and Athena. “I thought protecting the world of humans was your mandate. That’s what you’ve sworn an oath to. And you’re going to protect someone who’s endangering the human world by bringing down the barriers protecting us from the Realm, conspiring with rebel fae elements—who you know have already planned to unite the fae against humans and return to the old ways? Is
that
what you’ve sworn to do? Honestly?” It took all her self-control to not go shrill with rage.

“At least one person has died because of her actions,” Michael said, his voice soft but firm enough to carry in the snow-muffled silence. “And you’re defending her?”

Eamon and his allies moved to join Sophie, which she supposed put her in the fae camp for the moment. They moved to resume their attack, presenting a united front against the enchantresses.

Although Sophie would have loved to throw Josephine to the wolves and let the fae do what they wanted with her, she couldn’t bear for Amelia or Athena to be hurt, no matter how angry she was at them at the moment. “Stop that right now,” she snapped at the fairies, letting some of her royal aura flare to remind them of her authority.

Much to her surprise, they ignored her. “I am sorry, but we are operating on orders of the queen,” Eamon said.

“I’m sure Nana didn’t know what you’d be up against,” Sophie protested. She wondered what would happen if she threw herself in between the fairies and the enchantresses, then realized that would mean putting herself on the line for Josephine, which would likely be counterproductive.

It was Mrs. Smith who put herself in between the two factions. “This doesn’t happen in my territory,” she said. “It’s my job to protect ordinary humans from the lot of you magical types. I ought to kick all of you out.” She might have dressed up like a society dame, but there was enough iron in her voice to make a fairy sweat. She produced something from her handbag that made the fae shy away, but instead of backing down, they circled around behind the enchantresses.

The fairies attacked, focusing on Josephine. Amelia and Athena shielded her, but they didn’t return the attack, remaining on the defensive. “Should you help them—either side?” Michael whispered.

“You know, I’m kind of disgusted with all of them,” Sophie said. “And I’m dead tired.” Turning her back to the combatants, she stepped through the curtain of snow and winced as the sudden sounds of the city assaulted her. Michael was only steps behind her, along with Mrs. Smith.

“You’ve got the right idea, dear,” Mrs. Smith said with a nod. “Now, maybe you ought to fence them all in for a moment.”

“I’d rather not trap them, but I may be able to hold the magic inside,” Sophie said, mentally adding an additional shield to the ring of snow. If whoever set up the snow barrier dropped it, they could all leave, but in the meantime, no magic would spill out.

A cab pulled up, and Sophie gestured Mrs. Smith toward it, but the wise woman shook her head. “No, you go on. I’ll find you tomorrow, Detective.”

Sophie slid across the backseat, and Michael hesitated, watching Mrs. Smith, before giving up and getting in. “I was hoping to see where she went, but she’s already gone somehow.”

The cabbie asked their destination, and Sophie turned to Michael. “Do you mind if we go to your place? I don’t really want to deal with those two anytime soon. I’ll give them time to get home and in bed, and then maybe I’ll sneak in.”

He gave the cabbie his address, and she leaned back against the seat with a weary sigh. She slipped her feet out of her shoes, enjoying the momentary freedom. She seldom wore heels anymore, and standing for that long in them had been agony on feet already abused by dancing. When the cab pulled up in front of Michael and Emily’s building, she groaned at the thought of putting her shoes back on to walk to the door, but it was too cold and damp to make that walk in stocking feet.

Michael paid the fare before she remembered that he still had her bag with her purse in it. He got out, and she picked up her shoes, putting off the moment when she’d have to shove her feet back into them until the last possible second. He held up a hand to stop her and said, “Scoot over.” Too tired to argue, she slid over to the open door. She had to admit to a bit of a thrill when he scooped her up in his arms to carry her up the front steps.

As they went up the steps, she noticed that Emily’s light was on. She was just about to suggest they stop by to tell her what happened when the light switched off. Sophie figured she could fill her sister in on the night’s events in the morning.