A Lonely Magic (9 page)

Maybe this numbness was shock. Maybe she’d used up her body’s entire supply of fight-or-flight hormones in the last few days and it wasn’t capable of being scared anymore.

Or maybe these aliens didn’t seem threatening?

As Eladio removed the fruit bowls and returned with plates of grilled shrimp, rice and beans, Fen glanced from one face to another. She knew better than to mistake looks for virtue. The fact that they were pretty didn’t mean shit. She’d encountered more than one handsome jerk in her life.

But Luke had saved her, risking his life in the process. Kaio, despite his dangerous air, had been more than generous in sheltering her. And Gaelith—well, Fen had never met anyone like Gaelith but she found it impossible to imagine that the older woman could want to hurt her. Or anyone, for that matter.

Aliens.

But not necessarily bad guys.

Gaelith caught her gaze and smiled, seeming to welcome her back to the conversation. “My brother tells me you have art. Is it functional?”

“I—I beg your pardon?” Fen paused, a bite of shrimp halfway to her mouth.

“Ow.” Gaelith winced, indignantly turning to Kaio. “What—oh. Yes. I remember.”

The three siblings exchanged glances and Gaelith turned back to Fen. “Your job. What is your function?”

Fen let her eyes drop to her plate again, suppressing a desperate desire to burst into hysterical laughter. She’d heard Gaelith’s first question. She hadn’t understood it—functional art?—but she’d heard it. Someone should have given Gaelith better lessons in not being an alien.

“I’m a clerk in a used bookstore,” Fen answered, as her brain started working again, the numb blankness wearing off. “I sell books to people and buy from them. And I keep the bookshelves organized and the store neat.”

Luke was better. Healed, the difference dramatic. And Gaelith was clearly unused to dealing with earthlings. Had they summoned her to take care of Luke? How had she arrived? Maybe that was why Fen hadn’t heard the plane. Maybe it was an alien spaceship, technology so ahead of humanity’s that it was completely silent. Or maybe they had a transporter, like on
Star Trek
.

“And does it give you pleasure?” Gaelith tilted her head in clear interest.

“Yes, it does,” Fen said. “I love the store.”

“And books? They are wonderful, yes? Filled with stories and knowledge and ideas?”

“Absolutely.” Fen’s smile was genuine. Any alien who liked books was all right by her.

“I should like—” Gaelith paused and glanced at Kaio, before continuing, “to visit your bookstore someday. It is in Chicago, yes? I have never been there. Do you like it?”

“It’s the only place I know,” Fen answered. For the rest of the meal, they discussed Chicago, its good and its bad, Luke and Kaio contributing, Gaelith asking questions and acting charmed by their answers.

By the time they’d finished the delicious caramel flan, Fen felt in harmony with the world and her alien hosts.

“This has been a most pleasant diversion,” Gaelith said, her smile warm. “Would that I could stay longer and share more hours with you, but I must away.”

Away? But they’d just gotten here. Was Kaio leaving as well? He rose, pushing his chair back and taking Gaelith’s hand.

“But wait,” Fen protested. “You haven’t told us anything about what’s happening at home yet. Did the police find Zach? What kind of drugs was he dealing? Have they learned who shot Luke?”

“I’m afraid I have no information to share,” Kaio responded.

Fen stared at him. That sounded like a brush-off to her. “This isn’t some ‘don’t worry your pretty little head about it’ thing, is it? Because I want to know what’s going on.”

“The police investigation continues but they have not seen fit to update me on their progress.” Kaio didn’t look like he was lying, but Fen didn’t believe a word of it.

“That’s bullshit.” Fen dropped her napkin by her empty plate and stood. “There’s no way they wouldn’t tell you what’s happening.”

Kaio spread his hands, a gesture of graceful helplessness. “And yet…”

“That’s ridiculous. You’ve got their witnesses!”

Next to her, Luke rose to his feet, putting a hand on Fen’s shoulder. “I’m sure they’re doing everything they can.”

She shrugged his hand off.

Aliens, she reminded herself, over the rising tide of her accelerating heartbeat.

Watch your step.

Danger, danger, Will Robinson.

But the fear curdling her stomach wasn’t about horror movies or extra-terrestrials. Fen wanted her life back. She wanted to know when she got to go home, when she’d see her apartment again, when she’d open the bookstore. Okay, maybe her life wasn’t much, but it was hers.

Keeping her voice steady, she said, “You had my crystal. What about my cell phone? And the rest of my belongings? My messenger bag?”

Kaio dipped his head. “I apologize. I intended no negligence. Luken’s health has been my priority.”

The subtext was obvious—how selfish of her to be worried about her cellphone and her messenger bag when Luke was wounded. Fen glared at him.

“Now, now.” Gaelith leaned forward. “You’re worried, child, and you must not be. All will be well.”

Child?

“I look young,” Fen said. “But I’m a legal adult. I take care of myself. A couple days in paradise, awesome, rad to the tenth, rocks the big one.” She couldn’t keep her hands still and her voice was rising with each additional adjective, so she stopped herself and took a deep breath. In a quieter voice, she said, “But I want to know when I’m going home.”

“Oh, child.” Gaelith hurried around the table to her. Fen let herself be hugged, but she stayed stiff and rigid in Gaelith’s arms. The woman wasn’t as tall as her brothers, but Fen still fit under her chin. “All will be well,” Gaelith repeated, patting Fen’s back.

Luke hovered next to them. “Soon, soonest,” he said, sounding worried. “We must let the police do their work.”

Fen gritted her teeth. She didn’t want comfort, she wanted information.

“After I return Gaelith to her home,” Kaio said, “I shall retrieve your property and interrogate the officers in charge of the investigation. I shall endeavor to discover every detail they have gleaned from the scant evidence and inform you forthwith. And I shall particularly press them to expedite their work so as to speed your return. Does that satisfy?”

Fen pulled away from Gaelith’s hug. From his voice, she couldn’t tell whether Kaio was mocking her or not. She thought he was, but she couldn’t protest because Gaelith and Luke were both agreeing, voices relieved, that he was exactly right and that was exactly what should be done.

Aliens.

Damn them.

They were so very, very nice.

An Arrival

“And today’s excuse?”

Fen frowned at Luke in mock-disapproval. “Excuses are for losers.”

He grinned at her. “Come on, Fen.” He held out a hand, wiggling his fingers enticingly. “Come swimming with me. You’ll enjoy it, I promise.”

Fen looked at the brilliant blue of the water behind him, the sun glaring off it so brightly that it shone like a mirror. “It’s too bright.”

“If I ask you later, you’ll say it’s too dark.”

“Well, then it will be too dark.”

“Or too salty or too chlorinated or too cold or too warm…” Luke flopped down on the sand next to her chaise lounge.

“Or too wet,” she said. “Always too wet.”

“You’re so silly.” Luke sighed with a melodramatic heave of his chest and Fen looked back at her book, smiling.

Wrapping her head around the alien thing hadn’t been easy. But in the two days since Gaelith and Kaio left, Fen had come to a couple of conclusions.

First, these aliens couldn’t be regulars on planet Earth. Luke, like his siblings, talked like someone out of a romantic play. The last time they’d visited must have been at least a couple of hundred years ago.

Second, the reason they were here couldn’t be to conquer or destroy. No way was that Luke’s thing. He was… gallant. Insanely polite. Completely sweet. And excellent company.

Fen liked him.

She liked him a lot.

Luke put a hand over his eyes to shield them from the sun and squinted up at her. “Cards?”

She waved her book at him. “Reading.”

“You’re always reading.”

“So not true. Didn’t I watch an entire episode of that ridiculous television show with you less than two hours ago?” she protested.

“How can you not love it?” He sat up again, arms encircling his knees with lanky grace. “Vampires, werewolves, gorgeous girls?” The flash of teeth held pure mischief.

“Pretty boys?” she answered him flippantly.

“Prettier than me?”

Fen fluttered her eyelashes at him. “Is there such a thing?”

Kaio, now, Kaio might be prettier than his brother. But Luke was young, he’d catch up. And he was far more fun than Kaio. Fen never had to wonder what his words meant or what hidden meaning lay behind his actions.

“Alas,” Luke said dolefully, “I am but average among my cousins.”

“Seriously?” Fen peeked over the edge of her sunglasses at him. “How many cousins do you have?”

“Too many. I shall endeavor to be sure that you meet none of them.”

Fen laughed. “It doesn’t seem likely.”

“Oh, little you know my cousins. Were they aware I had such a lovely guest, you may be sure they would be visiting. Dropping by, one after another, and then before one knew, crowds of them until the house veritably overflowed.”

Fen shook her head at him. He was such a goof. “Don’t tell them then.” She opened her book again.

“The game with the clubs?”

Fen chuckled, snuggling into the chaise lounge, book in front of her. “You and I together are the world’s worst tennis players. We can’t even get the ball over the net half the time and we’ve never managed to hit one back. I can’t imagine why you want to keep trying. And those aren’t clubs, they’re rackets.”

“Rackets, yes,” Luke said. “But does not racket mean crime?”

“Yeah, it can mean something illegal, but it also means…” She pantomimed a swinging motion. “That thing. It has other meanings, too. Google?”

“Google.” Luke nodded. “I shall return.”

He bounded up and took off running toward the house. Fen watched him go, a half-smile curving her lips, and then turned back toward her book.

She’d found the laptop in the office next to the library and introduced Luke to Google. He’d been immediately infatuated, more proof that no way was he human. No rich boy alive didn’t know how to use a basic search engine. He’d be gone for ten minutes, maybe longer, while he searched the meaning of “racket” and followed links to pictures and other sites.

And she would read her book. She’d finished
Romeo and Juliet
. Yeah, maybe it was lovely, but those kids were stupid-ass idiots. Seriously, killing yourself for someone you’d known for a week? Dumb, dumb, dumb.

She was starting
The Great Gatsby
, for which she had higher hopes.

At the sound of an engine, she looked up.

A plane was coming in for a landing.

Fen closed the book, not bothering with a bookmark. It was about time Kaio returned. He’d promised her information as soon as possible. Apparently that meant “sometime in a far-off future when I’m not likely to get yelled at for not knowing shit.”

She stood and grabbed her sundress from the foot of the chaise lounge. She’d started bringing along a sundress to wear in case Kaio came back. Not that she thought she needed to hide her bikini-clad body, but… eh, a little extra fabric between her body and Kaio’s eyes just seemed prudent.

Not for him, of course.

Gay guy, what did he care?

But for her.

She pulled the dress over her head. As she emerged from the folds of cloth, the plane was taxiing toward the end of the runway. It wasn’t the one on which they’d arrived. It was smaller, dingier, a Honda Civic of a plane compared to the limo they’d used before. But she began walking toward it so she could start harassing Kaio as soon as he disembarked.

And then she paused, a trickle of uncertainty running along her spine.

Nope, nope
, an internal voice was saying. Not a stranger’s voice, her own voice. Not a hallucination, an intuition.

That plane wasn’t very big.

It wasn’t elegant.

It wasn’t Kaio.

As the door to the plane opened, Fen stopped breathing.

She recognized that face. It would have been hard to forget. No, impossible to forget.

The man who’d tried to murder her less than a week earlier hopped easily out of the plane onto the ground. He took up a position by the side of the wing as another man followed him down, and then a third.

The third man tugged at his jacket sleeves and Fen glanced up the runway to see Eladio approaching the plane, a welcoming smile on his face.

Fuck.

She was breathing again, in tight gasps, the air barely reaching her lungs.

Eladio was in on it.

In on what?
part of her brain asked, but the other part whirled away from the runway and bolted toward the house.

The sand was a bitch to run in. Each step weighed ten pounds and Fen couldn’t stop envisioning her attempted murderer pulling out his gun and firing toward her back. But what could she do? Hide or escape—those were the choices.