Enchantment (11 page)

The music picked up, and the lights prickled
his skin.

The knife scraped against its scabbard as
Adrian unsheathed it. He tilted his head back and opened his mouth.
He shoved it down his throat, though more likely it belonged inside
his black heart. Even knowing what he’d done with Gray early that
morning, he had no regrets other than a wish to rewind time and do
it all over again.

A second wave of applause thundered when
Adrian pulled the blade out. The stage assistants began rolling out
his box and saw.

“I think it’s time someone else went under
the blade,” Adrian said.

He squinted through the spotlights into the
front row, but a morose youth stared sullenly back at him from
Gray’s seat.

Adrian did not choose him.

At the end of the performance, Adrian made
his way through the theater’s lobby. That hadn’t been one of his
better performances. His thoughts had been elsewhere, and the
damned pigeon had landed on his head. But the audience had cheered
as they always did. Crowds were more apt to love a magician than an
avenger, and there were always those who lingered hoping for a word
with the famous Montez up close. Today he would have to disappoint
them. There were days when a man needed to be left alone.

Several young women tried to make eye contact
as Adrian strode by. He ignored them. He was almost to the doors
when a gaggle of young boys cried out, “S
eñor
Magician!”

He smiled despite himself and came to a halt
beside the group. “One question each. No more. I’m in a hurry.”

“Can you show us another trick?” one of the
boys blurted.

An encore. Even better than questions.

Adrian looked each boy in the eye with an air
of mystery. “Do any of you have a euro note?”

“I do!” said the boy in the middle. He shoved
his hand in his pocket and pulled out a slightly wrinkled five-euro
note.

“Excellent,” Adrian said, holding out his
hand.

The boy handed him the euro. That’s what
Adrian loved about kids. Their curiosity always outweighed their
apprehension. Adults, on the other hand, always hesitated before
letting go of even a dollar.

Adrian held the euro in front of the boys and
ripped it down the center.

The boys’ eyes expanded in their sockets.

Adrian stacked the two pieces and tore them
down the middle again then stacked them again to tear the pieces
one more time, narrating his actions the entire time. He grinned as
he showed the boys all the torn pieces of the euro.

“Now your euro is torn to bits and as good as
garbage. Luckily, I have magical powers and can make it whole
again.” Adrian closed his fist around the torn bits and raised his
hand to his mouth. “All I have to do is blow on the pieces.”

He let out one loud puff and lowered his
fist.

“And when I wave my hand over the pieces,
they fuse together.” He waved his free hand over his fist then
flattened his palm.

The boys leaned forward.

The euro looked as though it were still in
pieces, but when Adrian took it in both fingers and pulled the
corners outward, he held a perfect five-euro note.

The boys exchanged glances then began
clapping. Adrian took his bow and handed the euro back. The boy
looked at it as though it had become something more magical than a
banknote.

“
Adios,”
Adrian said, tipping his
head.

The sun had set on Barcelona by the time
Adrian finished his evening performances. After enduring the
incessant glare of the spotlights following his every move, it felt
good to step into the dark.

It was after ten and the streets swayed with
men and women dressed for the night. There was always music playing
in Barcelona and if there wasn’t, there was speech, a music of its
own sort. The bars and restaurants beckoned, but not to Adrian.

He found an old woman selling roses of all
colors from a stall. He chose the brightest reds, and she smiled a
toothless smile as she bundled the bouquet for him.

“
Gracias
,” Adrian said.

“
He vendido muchas rosas a muchos hombres, pero ninguno tanto
enamorado como usted
,
” the old
woman said and chuckled.

Adrian had no idea what she’d said, so he
smiled back and took the flowers. He thought of his nan. She’d left
him here in this mess buying roses from an old woman in the street
to present to a woman who loved and hated him with equal fervor. He
had yet to decide which was worse. Then Adrian pictured Gray as
he’d found her in his bed: face glowing, cheeks rosy, hair mussed,
and the smile she’d given him.

Perhaps he’d go easy on his nan.

Adrian knew where to find Gray. He had from
the moment he performed a locator spell on her from Paris. There’d
been no way to know which of the two Grays would appear on the
water’s surface. The results had been fifty/fifty, though in his
head he’d pictured Gray in her true form—not the body the other
Graylee Perez had hijacked back in Washington.

That Gray, the one who called herself Stacey
Lee Morehouse, had never seemed authentic to Adrian. He wondered
how Raj could have chosen her.

A body transfer changed a person. There was
always a little something left over from the previous inhabitant.
For all he knew, only a few scattered memories and a name remained
of Adrian Montez. Who was to say the rest wasn’t Tommy Hughes?

But that was like saying part of Gray was her
twin sister.

Charlene had come to Adrian in his shop
before her sad little sidekick purged Gray from her body. She was
evil and scheming, a role Adrian relished for his own. Charlene’s
first mistake had been trying to manipulate Adrian with what she
considered her feminine charms. She’d gone as far as to offer a
sample in the form of a kiss.

Graylee Perez had been the smarter of the
two—offering Adrian his powers back. And Adrian, fool that he was,
wanted the sister who didn’t want him.

Adrian stalked past groups of young adults
laughing and speaking in tongues. He turned down an enclosed street
that narrowed and curved the further he walked as though winding
him around a finger.

He did not pause in front of the iron gates,
but walked through as though he’d been there a hundred times
before.

Two young women passed Adrian in the
courtyard.

“Hi,” Adrian said.

“Hi,” they echoed.

Adrian looked each girl directly in the eye.
They smiled and looked away quickly.

The small courtyard led into a communal area.
Adrian looked around, his eyes landing on a tiny desk and the woman
behind it. She watched him with a frown as tight as her ponytail.
Adrian walked up to her with a smirk on his lips. “
Buenos
noches
.”

It was a good thing the woman had an
unblemished face because every hair on her head had been pulled
back into a clip at the nape of her neck exposing every inch of her
skin.

The woman didn’t look at the flowers, only
Adrian.

“These are for Graylee Perez,” Adrian said,
but still she did not look at the bouquet. What he wanted was for
the woman to take the flowers and see that they got to Gray.

She made no move to grab them. Adrian’s jaw
tensed, and his smile began to thin.

“Now I see,” the woman finally said.

She could see whatever she wanted. Adrian
smirked again to show her what he thought about that.

But she wasn’t finished speaking. “. . . why
S
eñorita
Perez has gone.”

“Gone?” Adrian asked. He lowered the bouquet.
“She left?”

The Spanish woman leaned forward.
“S
eñorita
Perez has taken her things and
gone.”

Of course she’d gone away. Why was Adrian so
surprised?

A stem snapped as he squeezed the flowers.
Suddenly, he felt like a fool while the whole world looked upon his
folly. Yet there was only one woman assessing him with her pinched
face. But that was one too many.

Adrian laughed suddenly. It erupted throaty
and ruthless from his lips. He set the roses on top of the Spanish
woman’s desk and leaned toward her. “I love it when she runs,” he
said and winked. “It does no good, though. I always find her.”

Satisfied that it was now the Spanish woman
who looked uneasy, Adrian turned on his heel, leaving the flowers
behind as he wound his way back out to the main street.

The hostel’s guest kitchen was in use when Gray
walked in with her can of lentil soup, bread roll, and salad. By
Spanish standards she was early. It was only eight thirty, but then
again it wasn’t Spaniards she bunked with.

There were plenty of other guests preparing
food—real food. Gray emptied her canned soup into a saucepan beside
a skillet sizzling with onions and green peppers.

Tables were filling fast in the dining room.
Gray didn’t feel like sharing one or making conversation, but she
ended up being joined by a group of Brits. They reminded Gray of
Hannah and Will.

Will’s head was most likely spinning over
Gray’s desertion. She was disappointed in Hannah’s reaction. Gray
had lost all her friends in one fell swoop.

She still had Marco’s contact. S
eñor
Ortega could put an end to this. Gray would make
an appointment with the warlock first thing the next morning.

“Check this out,” the girl to Gray’s right
said. She held her phone up to Gray’s face. A picture of the
Sagrada Familia was on the screen.

“Nice picture,” Gray muttered.

“Are you traveling alone?” the girl across
the table asked.

Alone
. There was that word again.

Gray straightened in her seat. “Actually I
met someone. I’m meeting him tonight.”

“Ohhhh,” the girl said, lips extending into a
wicked grin. “Does he have any friends?”

“No. He’s here alone.”

Well, he was now.

Adrian didn’t seem to have a lot of friends.
Gray snorted to herself. Small wonder. It would take a special type
to be friends with someone so dark and vengeful.

Gray crossed her legs. She had changed into a
mid-length skirt and tank top. Since arriving in Spain, she’d
practically lived in her flip-flops. One of them smacked her heel
as she tapped it against her foot.

She’d overheated her soup. The instructions
on the can had said
No hierva
. Don’t boil! Sure enough, Gray
boiled it. The mushy liquid was finally reaching a temperature that
didn’t burn off the roof of her mouth.

The British girl who had shown Gray the photo
on her cell phone must have told a joke because the group laughed
in unison at the conclusion of her words. Gray forced a smile so
she wouldn’t look like a total lackwit.

She texted Hannah while her soup cooled.

I feel bad about the way we left things. Can
we meet for coffee tomorrow? -G

Gray finished half her soup then excused
herself, wishing the group a good evening as she left to go
outside. Walking quickly, she slowed and came to a stop in front of
a boutique along the Passeig de
Gràcia.
It
was dark inside, and her reflection appeared with enough clarity
for her to brush her hair back with her fingers. Gray lowered her
hand and stared at the sleeveless gown on the mannequin. Guilt
seized Gray as she met the eye of a passerby, as though the
middle-aged man knew what she’d been thinking—that her fingers had
itched to snap into the beautiful ball gown. Stealing was
stealing.

Gray backed away then stopped to admire the
gown one last time.

Then again, there was always borrowing.

No, not a good idea, and certainly way too
overdressed to call on Adrian at his apartment.

Gray smoothed down her skirt and made for the
metro. She barely noticed the couples leaning intimately into one
another. There was a thrill inside her, a sense of excitement
beating a rhythm inside her chest like a drum. So this was
love?

She wondered if she’d ever experience it
again without the interference of magic.

* * *

Gray walked up to the door of Adrian’s apartment and
knocked. While she waited, she gathered all of her hair into one
hand and pulled it back gently.

The moment he opened the door, Adrian’s eyes
bored into hers.

Suddenly she felt shy, which had to be the
spell.

Adrian looked more surprised than mystified..
“You came back.”

Gray looked over Adrian’s shoulder. “May I
come in?”

One corner of Adrian’s lips lifted higher
than the other when he smiled and shook his head. “You know you’re
going to regret this, right?”

“Not tonight.”

He leaned against the doorframe. “Living for
the moment?”

“Are you going to let me in or what?”

“You know I am.”

Gray pushed past him. “Who’s the one under
the spell?”

Adrian closed the door then looked her up and
down. “I’m beginning to wonder if you’re really under a spell.”

Gray laughed. “Not exactly the simpering
school girl you were hoping for?”

“You were never a simpering school girl,
Gray. I still remember the day you walked into my shop. You have an
interesting way of expressing your love is all.”

“Yeah, well sometimes we hurt the ones we
love. Serves you right, by the way. If I have to suffer through
this damned spell, more like a curse, then you should too.”

Adrian cracked a smile. “Loving me is
torture, is it?”

“You can’t even begin to imagine.”

He stepped toward her and lifted her chin
gently with his fingers. The gesture sent shivers down Gray’s
spine. “There are perks, at least.”

“Such as?” Gray caught Adrian’s smile just
before the lights went out. With a snap of his fingers every candle
in the apartment blazed to life. Music emerged from the speakers,
pulsing out a Latin beat.