01 Do You Believe in Magic - The Children of Merlin (35 page)

“I thought it must be something
like that,” his father said, frowning. “This is serious.”

“What? That my engine cut
out?”

“No, there was a reason you
didn’t see that semi. That was an attack on you, son. By someone
with magic: a Cloaker who could hide a semi.”

“What?”

“We aren’t the only ones out
there with magic in our genes.” He looked at Tris, then down at his
hands. When he looked up, his expression was pained. “We ran into
someone with powers before. An old woman. She wanted us to join
her.”

“You didn’t?”

“She was... not like us. She
wanted to use magic to the wrong end.”

“For personal gain?”

His father barked a laugh. “Oh,
yeah. Your mother and I escaped her. Disappeared for a while in
Borneo. When we came back, we changed our name, just in case she
was still alive.”

That shocked Tris. He’d never
known his father to be afraid of anyone. “You mean our name isn’t
Tremaine?” Tris’s world was turning upside down.

“Trevellyan. Close.” He smiled,
a lopsided little grin. “So believe me, there could be someone out
there with powers.”

“But someone who can make
himself invisible? That’s just too
Star Trek
.”

“How else did you miss a
semi?”

That made Tris think. “Why would
he shut off the engines if that was what saved me?”

“He didn’t,” his father said,
staring at the ashtray. He obviously wasn’t seeing it. “I’ve been
thinking. Had you met Maggie before the accident?”

Tris swallowed. “Met her in a
truck stop diner. Followed her out to the mustang sale.” He smiled
a little. “She wasn’t giving me the time of day, but....”

“But you just couldn’t seem to
help yourself.”

Tris nodded. “I was on my way
back to Austin that night because she lives near there.”

“When you were attacked and left
for dead.” His father now stared at the floor. “I’ve been such a
fool.”

“You? I was the one trailing all
over Nevada after a girl I met at a truck stop diner.”

His father heaved a sigh and
looked up at him. “Here’s what I think. I think
you
stopped
your engine and probably the semi’s engine too. On some level you
sensed the presence of the truck and you were trying to save your
life. I think your power has something to do with machines. It’s
what you were born to do, no matter how I tried to convince you
otherwise. And your power emerged when you met Maggie, just as her
power emerged and she was able to calm you on the way to the ER, no
matter how much pain you were in.”

“How did you know about that?”
Things were moving a little too fast for Tris.

“Your mother got it out of
Maggie.”

“She could calm horses before
she met me. She’s been doing it for years. She got her power from
her one true love, all right. His name was Phil and he dumped her.”
It hurt so much to say that he thought he might throw up again or
put his fist through the wall. He grabbed his right wrist and held
on so his father wouldn’t think he was a loon.

“Well, then Maggie O’Brian is a
lucky woman because lightning doesn’t often strike twice. I’ll
wager she was never able to do what she did out at the barn before
she met you. Drew said Maggie was quite shaken by that
experience.”

“Wait, wait,” Tris said, shaking
his head convulsively. “I don’t even
believe
in all
this.”

“Then you’re going to miss the
chance to return the favor Maggie did you out on Highway 50.” His
father’s voice was hard.

“What do you mean?” Maggie had
saved his life. Tris could feel the blood drain from his face,
leaving him light-headed.

“
Why
do you think someone
with magic attacked you, Tristram? Because you have the potential
to be very powerful and you are a Tremaine.” His father got up and
paced the small office behind the visitor chairs. “The old woman
was collecting people with power, not just your mother and me. You
join them or you die, because they don’t want competition.”

“They weren’t recruiting.”

“No. You’re my son. I refused
the call, so to speak. I think they found us through Victor. Not
that he’d betray us willingly. And there you were, alone, without
protection, traipsing all over Nevada after Maggie, looking like
you’d found your destined lover and would come into your power. And
your lover had to be carrying Merlin’s DNA too....”

Tris thrust to his feet, tipping
over the desk chair. “My God, Maggie’s in danger.”

“They’ll want to bring her over
to their side, or kill her.”

“For God’s sake, why didn’t you
say so when you first walked in?” He fumbled in the back of the top
drawer of the file cabinet for the Smith and Wesson .45 he kept
there for emergencies in a tough neighborhood.

“You wouldn’t have believed me.
Get in the Lexus. We’ll go together.”

His father was offering to help
him save Maggie? Wonder of wonders. He glanced to the Lexus. “You
won’t go fast enough.”

“I did a few laps with Dale
Earnhardt Jr. once.”

Which made his father one very
good driver who liked to go fast. Still no dice. “Lexus can’t make
it through traffic like a bike. Sorry.” He put the gun into his
waistband.

His father sighed. “I don’t want
you going into danger alone, boy. But I know by now I can’t stop
you. You know where she’s going?”

Tris realized that it might have
cost his father something to come down here today. He wondered if
his mother knew what his father intended. “Yeah,” he said, as he
grabbed his leather jacket. He pushed around the desk and out past
his father. “Thanks for telling me.” He grabbed the door handle and
jerked out into the shop at a run.

“Be careful,” his father said
from the doorway. “And look for flickers. He’ll have to keep his
concentration up in order to cloak at a hundred percent.”

Tris nodded as he closed on the
nasty, powerful-looking metal animal in the corner. The Ducati was
the fastest thing in the shop. It was a Desmosedici: 200 HP of
racing snarl. He couldn’t have asked for better. “Antonio,” he
called. “Lift the bay door.” Antonio dropped his tools, broke for
the front, and began hauling on the chain. Tris caught a narrow
look from Antonio’s brother. What was that about? Tris kicked the
cycle to life. It growled and whined. Antonio tossed him a helmet.
He shoved it on his head, pulled on the jacket, and revved the
engine until it squealed.

His father looked pained. “Good
luck, son. Find her fast.”

“She’s made it back to Austin by
now.” He watched his father’s mouth go grim. He didn’t believe
she’d made it. If she hadn’t, Tris would spend his life looking for
anyone who’d hurt her. He felt the knife turn in his gut. But it
wasn’t the sickness from denying her. Or denying his heritage. The
nothingness was gone.

It was replaced by fury. Five
hundred miles to Austin. City traffic before he could let the
Ducati really rip. Six hours? Seven? He’d better make it less.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Jason flipped his phone shut.
The plant they had in the shop, the brother of some guy that worked
there, said Tris Tremaine had just stormed out on a red Ducati, on
his way to Maggie O’Brian’s place.

Jason felt a current of
excitement course through his body. He could avoid punishment.

But just thinking about that
brought back the memories. The face that haunted his dreams hung
over him. The tattooed hand pulled up his head. Jason thrashed
against the ties on his hands but he couldn’t get loose. And the
terrible thing was going to happen, though he thought he’d made
sure it would never happen again. A scream lurked in his throat
somewhere.

Jason pushed the scream down. He
squeezed his eyes shut against the images. He was going to make it
out without the old woman punishing him. He was. This was his
chance.

His only one.

*****

Maggie pulled around the shack
to the shed in the early afternoon, feeling as empty as her
clattering trailer. She killed the engine and closed her eyes. How
the hell was she going to get the truck back to Tris? The last
thing she wanted was to be indebted to him. She wanted no
connection at all, now that the horrible feeling of being connected
to him had finally faded.

That’s right. No connections.
They just left you vulnerable. She ran her hand over her damp
forehead. In that case, why wasn’t she invulnerable? The year her
mother deserted her had been bad. Elroy hit the bottle. .By the
time she got to high school, Phil the Rat had seemed like the
answer to her prayers. First kiss. Feeling wanted and confident and
suddenly sure of who she was. Pretty heady stuff. Right until he
left without a word. The aftermath was a pale shadow of the rupture
she felt earlier this morning with Tris. She’d cried for a month.
But that was okay. Got him out of her system. Her dog had run away.
Even her horses were only passing through. She had no connections
then, and she’d kept it that way since.

She was well out of whatever
craziness the Tremaine family was into. Magic? Powers? She’d
believed it this morning. Who wouldn’t believe Mrs. Tremaine, with
those soft, caring eyes and that “All-Mother” thing going for her?
Maybe it was a crock. But Tris had been healed and Maggie herself
had done... something in the barn. That just meant she had to leave
the crazy behind, get back to normal.

She opened her eyes and gazed
out across the desert beyond the Palo Verde trees. Whole lot of
butt-ugly nothing. Pretty much like her future.

She sighed. The horses would
need watering. She opened the truck door and climbed out. The
windmill turned, creaking in the desert wind. She couldn’t help but
think about Tris, grease on his forehead, fooling with that engine,
working his magic. Tears welled in her eyes.

Get over it, Maggie. The likes
of Tris Tremaine were never meant for you anyway.

“Get in here, girl,” the hoarse
voice sounded behind her.

She wiped her eyes and looked
around. “Hey, Elroy.”

“He got his fill of your little
cunt and dumped you, didn’t he?” Elroy’s eyes were yellow. He
looked like some kind of demon.

His liver is failing. Better
get him into Reno tomorrow.
She refused to think about what
he’d just said. “Let’s see what’s in the freezer for dinner.”

Elroy turned into the house in
disgust. “At least you’re good for somethin’.”

She trudged into the house
behind him. This was her future. Elroy stood in the middle of the
shack, his back to her. “Get my pills from my nightstand. I forgot
to take ’em this morning.”

“Okay.” She pushed into the
dirty room. He wouldn’t let her clean it. It smelled of piss and
vomit. She’d clean when he went into town to get liquor, no matter
his anger when he found what she’d done. If he was still capable of
going into town. The room was dim since no light penetrated through
the boarded-up window. Where were the brown plastic pharmacy
bottles? Wait. Where was the nightstand?

The sound of the door slamming
startled her. She spun, the room now dark. The sound of a chair
being moved in under the knob was unmistakable.

“Two can play at this game,
missy.” Elroy’s cackle struck fear into her heart.

“Let me out, Elroy,” she said,
trying to keep her voice calm.

“Not likely,” he muttered.
“Might as well get something outta you, with the effort it took to
raise you all these years.”

“What are you talking about?”
This was not good. She looked around. He’d taken out the nightstand
because she’d be able to use it as a battering ram on the plywood
over the window.

“Just like your mother,” Elroy
sputtered. His voice moved away. “No-good dirty whore.”

Mother leaving made him this
way,
she recited as a mantra to herself. “Just let me out.”

“Not likely.” He was coming
back. An echoing thunder sounded. “Shit, fuck, piss. Ow!”

He ... he was nailing the door
shut. He’d hit his thumb. More pounding. He was so weak it was
hard. What the hell was happening here? “Elroy, what do you think
you’re doing?”

“Your whoring ways gone on too
long. Warn’t sure I had it in me to punish you like I done your
mother. Sickly now. Her fault.” More pounding. “Your fault.”

Maggie cupped her hand over her
mouth, dread washing over her. But she had to know. She lowered her
hand. “How... how did you punish her?”

The pounding stopped. A weight
slid against the door. She could hear him gasping. “This place
warn’t ever good enough fer her. I saw how she looked at that fella
that came with the propane. Whoring bitch. She was doin’ him every
chance she got.” There was a wheezing chuckle. “But I put a stop to
that nonsense.”

“You did?” Maggie hated that her
voice was small, as though she was eight again and he was telling
her nightly how her mother ran off with the propane guy because she
didn’t care about either Elroy or her daughter.

“Tire iron and an axe done the
trick.” He sounded so proud. “Buried ’em out in the desert. Won’t
nobody never find ’em. Can’t hang me with it.”

God.
“You... you killed
her?”

“I stopped her whoring!” he
shouted hoarsely. She heard his body slide down against the door.
“Damned whore.” This was nothing more than a whisper. “Killed that
damned puppy of yours too. It was a bitch. Be backin’ up to every
dog around here.” Then nothing.

Maggie felt the bile rise into
her throat. All these years she thought her mother deserted her.
Her world turned upside down. What did that mean?

It meant that Maggie might be next.

*****

Tris wanted to scream. Fucking
LA traffic had been worse than he thought. Even weaving between
lanes and using the shoulders hadn’t helped much, except that he
got to exchange curses with some irate car drivers. Six hours and
he was still at least a hundred miles from Austin. The Ducati
sliced through the night like a cheetah, eating up the road until
the white line was a blur. Fallon was a dim cluster of lights
behind him. The wind roared in his ears and all he could see for
miles was ghostly white sagebrush flashing by in his headlight and
the dim shadows of the mountains to the south.