He's A Magic Man (The Children of Merlin) (42 page)

“When we get out of here, you’re going to make her a happy woman, mister. A happy
married
woman,” Brian threatened. He was apparently turning his relief at Drew’s survival into anger at Michael and plans to secure her future. Michael didn’t know what to say. Brian didn’t seem to care whether his daughter wanted to be married to a drunken man who was still in love with his dead wife.

“Daddy, stop,” Drew said from his shoulder, in a voice that was smaller than he was used to hearing from her. “This is something you can’t control, so leave it be.”

“Well, I’m just thinking of you,” Brian said gruffly as he pulled up in front of the entrance at the Palmer House. Groups of guests and passersby were huddled, chattering in excitement about the fire that cast a glow over the night sky. Brian gave the valet a hundred bucks to drive the fire captain’s car back to the fire scene in an hour or so.
The valet looked like he’d been offered season Cubs’ tickets.
They plodded through the ornate lobby with its gilded baroque ceiling and chandeliers that dripped glittering crystal, drawing stares as they went. Probably because of Drew’s dress, which was a little odd. Brian picked up a house phone and called Brina to get the room number. “Yes, we’re all okay,” he heard Brian say. Michael guided Drew into the elevator, and supported her with an arm around her waist. When she laid her head against his shoulder, the rightness of that seemed like a revelation.

“Come in, come in,” Brina fussed at the door to the suite. It was dim, done in warm tones—comfortable. She touched her husband’s arm then turned to Drew. “Oh, dear. Drew, honey, come sit over here.” She guided Drew to a sofa. “Thank goodness. You’ll be fine shortly.” She touched each of her sons in turn, performing her own instant triage. “Nothing worse than you got fighting when you were young hooligans.” Tris maybe, but Michael couldn’t believe Kemble was ever a “young hooligan.”

“Senior got grazed by a bullet,” Tris reported.

“I know, dear. But he’ll be fine in a minute after I get done with him.”

“It’s too soon,” Brian protested.

“Nonsense. I rested while you were gone, and none of you are that bad.” She turned on Michael. “I think I’ll start with you.”

“I’m fine, ma’am,” Michael said. He was surprised that his words came out thick. His lips were swollen or something.

“Not,” Kemble said sharply. “Let her heal you.”

He was about to protest when Tris agreed. “You’re putting a whole new spin on ugly. I’m
gonna
have nightmares. Drew’s probably frightened out of her mind.”

Michael glanced anxiously at Drew, but she only smiled. It was tender. That sent shock waves through him. She must feel sorry for him. Well, that was the best he could expect. After all, he’d joined with the bad guys just so he could bring his dead wife back to life. What a slap in the face that had been for Drew. And he’d dragged her whole family into this mess, where they’d nearly been killed. He was lucky she still felt sorry for him.

He sighed. The least he could do was let Brina stop him looking like a decomposing zombie. “I’d be grateful for your help, ma’am.”

“Now when are you going to stop calling me ma’am and start calling me Brina?” she asked as she led him to a chair. “These aren’t as bad as they look.” She touched a finger to his cheek. He jumped. Jesus! She looked into his eyes and that translucent thing started happening. She took his shoulders in both hands. “I know that hurt, but I had to touch the wound to be sure.” Her voice echoed.

This time he was awake to feel the pain begin to slip away, replaced by a sense of
well-being
. Things would be fine. He was strong. He could protect Drew. And….

“There,” she said, a little breathlessly. She got up and turned to her husband. “Your turn.” He looked mulish. “Don’t think I’m going to sip brandy while you bleed. I have more than enough juice to do you all.”

She did too. Drew was soon breathing easily. Tris rummaged in the minibar, tossing miniatures. “Here’s a
Chivas
, Senior. Gray Goose for the Prince of Wales.” He set aside a tiny Jack Daniels for himself. “Drew, gin and tonic? They got Bombay Sapphire.”

Drew rose. “I’ll make it.”

Tris got out a bottle of chardonnay for his mother. “What’ll it be, Finder?”

“I’ll take a shot of something with caffeine. Coke if they got it.”

“Oh, yeah. Sorry,” Tris said ruefully.

“No big deal,” Michael said. Actually he felt strangely detached about liquor. Shouldn’t an alcoholic be craving something potable about now? Something had changed inside him. He stared at Brina, who just smiled. Had she done something to him? Or was it Drew? He’d felt whole, more than whole, ever since that blissful night at the shack.

Brian poured his
Chivas
into a glass and took a gulp. “Didn’t get the Talisman Sword. And I think Rhiannon is still alive.” He turned to Michael. “Did you see either of them when you were going after Drew?”

Michael had to shake his head. He’d gotten what he came for, but the mission was still incomplete.

“She didn’t come down the stairwell. Maybe the elevator?”

“She did get away with it,” Drew said softly. There was something final about a Seer’s opinion. She took her G&T from the bar and came back to the couch. Tris drank his Jack straight out of the little bottle. Kemble poured his vodka into a water tumbler with ice.

“Did you…?” her father asked his daughter.

“Yes. A vision. I saw an old woman with yellowish eyes. She had the sword.”

“Morgan,” Brian muttered. The other Tremaines looked worried.

“She was old when we last saw her,” Brina protested. “That was more than thirty years ago. She’d be ancient now, if she’s even still alive.”

“The sword might be able to take care of that,” Drew said slowly. “Rhiannon was hell-bent on getting it to Morgan. Thought it would save her life, if they used it in some kind of ceremony.” Drew sighed.

“So that’s where she’s going with it,” Michael said. “The hospital. Wherever that is.”

“Morgan’s in ICU at Northwestern Memorial,” Drew said.

“Give me your iPhone, Mother,” Kemble said, new purpose in his voice. His mother fumbled in her purse and tossed him the phone.

“Let’s get over there pronto,” Tris said. “It’s not far. Maybe we can still get the sword.”

“Hold on,” Kemble mumbled, tapping at the phone.

“We may have some time,” Drew fretted, “or we may not. They were very publicity-shy. So when they couldn’t get the sword past security, they tried to get her released AMA, but by that time she was unconscious and couldn’t sign herself out. They were working on fake IDs to get Rhiannon identified as a relative.”

“Burning the Britannica Building was not exactly publicity-shy,” Brian noted dryly.

“Exactly what I’m afraid of,” Drew said. “Rhiannon has nothing to lose now. She’ll just take Morgan out of the hospital, and kill anybody who gets in her way.”

“It’s done,” Kemble said, sitting back on the couch. He shook his head. “She broke into the ICU and made off with one Morgan
Le
Fay. Three people dead, one injured. There are already videos from witnesses popping up on YouTube. Got away clean. Witnesses say it’s just like they disappeared into thin air.”

“Damn,” Tris muttered. “I bet it’s that
Cloaker
who can make things invisible.”

“What do we do now?” Michael asked.

“We go home,” Brian said, standing. “The children are vulnerable.”

Brina looked frightened.

So, this was it. They were going back to LA, circling the wagons to protect their family, including Drew. They’d be better protection than he’d been. Michael sagged inside. Drew wore an anxious expression. Of course she’d be anxious if her family was in danger. Best make it a clean break. “Well,
then.…”

“Of course you’re coming with us,” Brina said smoothly.

“You’re very kind, ma’am.” He let the “but” hang in his tone of voice.

“Damn right he’s coming with us,” Brian said briskly. “We have to settle some things.”

Brina looked daggers at her husband. Drew looked like she wanted to sink through the floor. Brina rose gracefully. “Of course, Michael wants to reclaim his boat. What was it called?
The Purgatory,
I think.”

Michael blinked. Purgatory. That’s what he’d been in for more than two years.
Unable to get Alice back, unable to move on.

“Probably still in Jamaica,” Kemble said obligingly. “I can check.”

The prospect of going back to the shack and the boat dock, alone, seemed like it might break him, in ways far worse than the prison in Afghanistan had broken him. And now he had no Alice to make him whole again.

“Not safe to claim it,” Tris said roughly. “They know you’re a Finder. They’ll want you.”

Maybe or maybe not.
But they’d sure as hell want Drew. And he was the one who’d told Rhiannon Drew was a Seer. As humiliating as it would be, he couldn’t leave Drew to fend for herself, even under the watchful eye of her family. The urge to protect her was even stronger than his fear of the pain it would bring to be around her, knowing what she must think of him.

Brina raised her delicate black brows at him in question.

He nodded. “Thank you.”

“Kemble, call the airport.” Brian checked his watch. “We’ll be there in forty-five minutes. I want wheels up in fifty.”

 

*****

 

Morgan held out one hand. Veined, gnarled, but not desiccated. Not rotting. Morgan began to laugh. She saw Rhiannon and Jason exchange glances. But she couldn’t stop laughing. The thrill of life in her veins was intoxicating. It had been too near a thing.

When she could finally speak, she said, “Well you two fucked things up royally.” A stray giggle escaped. They were in an abandoned warehouse in a run-down area on the outskirts of downtown Chicago. Jason went pale and stepped back. Rhiannon stood her ground. That was why Jason would never lead the Clan. Actually, if all went according to plan no one would ever lead the Clan but her.

“We’ll have to change headquarters, regroup. Where’s Phillip?”

“Las Vegas,” Jason said.

“Las Vegas will do.”

“I’ll get on that,” Rhiannon volunteered.

“Shall I go after the Tremaines?” Jason asked.

“They’ll really go to ground now,” she mused. “But they know about the sword. Will they guess it’s one of four? Doesn’t matter, if we wipe them out first. But no,” she decided. “We must focus on the Talismans.”
Three to go.
Three barriers to immortality.
“You go help Hardwick, Jason. I want to know what they are and where they are.”

 

*****

 

The flight back to LA was the longest of Drew’s life. Her damned red velvet dress smelled like smoke. The bottom was actually burned. She couldn’t say it was comfortable. Her mother was anxious about the children, with only Mr. Nakamura there to supervise, though Kee and Devin were eighteen and certainly mature enough to help him. Drew sympathized with her mother’s fear. The world had become a much more dangerous place now that there were people like Rhiannon and Morgan Le Fay in it, as well as the
Cloaker
and the
Firestarter
who had almost killed both Tris and Maggie. How many more were out
there
and what they could do?

Her father was bent on making sure Michael would marry Drew whether he wanted to or not. That was just depressing. Michael’s initial noncommittal attitude had begun to turn belligerent in the face of her father’s pressure. Her mother dragged her father up to the little galley and talked seriously to him. That didn’t happen often.

“But his power is getting stronger,” her father protested in a hushed but intense voice.

“Shush. I know, dear.” Her mother stared at her husband intently. “And….”

Her father pressed his lips together. But he stopped badgering Michael.

Now Michael just hovered around her. Even though she was tired, he made her want him, against her will. She couldn’t sleep. She couldn’t talk to him. He was silent, too. Focused though. He was constantly glancing around the plane as if Rhiannon was going to come walking out of the lav. What was she supposed to make of that? Still in his charred clothes, he was like some bodyguard from hell.

So she pretended to read the latest
National Geographic
. She couldn’t believe she was even doing that. Suddenly, it was if a light came on. Michael didn’t really care about her. He felt guilty. Because there was only
one way
Rhiannon could have known she was a Seer.

Michael had told her.

Drew felt her eyes fill. Did he want Morgan to bring Alice back to life so badly he’d sacrificed Drew to give Morgan what she wanted? Drew had a hard time getting her breath.

She’d thought for a minute that, when he had rescued her, something had changed. “People don’t change,” she heard herself telling Jane. “You can’t fix people,” her mother had told her. Her life had spun out of her control entirely, and there was nothing she could do.

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