Conjured (19 page)

“You are?” Eve asked.

“You remember that you like to kiss me?” His eyes looked puppy-dog hopeful. “And what happened when you first kissed me?”

“We floated. And then the books in the reading room flew.” She could count the number of good memories that she had on one hand—those were two of them.

“And after that?”

She shook her head.

“We experimented. We learned. We … had our first real date.”

“I don’t remember.” Saying it out loud made her feel as if someone had reached inside and ripped away pieces of her. Those memories were supposed to be hers! She wanted them back.

“Then I will show you.”

He sounded so confident that she nearly smiled in spite of everything.

Taking her hand, he led her deeper into the stacks to a corner where the books were matching yellow and the fluorescent lights flickered and buzzed.

“Relax. All you have to do is give me the magic, and I’ll shape it.” He leaned toward her. “You don’t even have to kiss me. The magic is in your breath. I only have to breathe it in.”

She kissed him anyway, eyes open.

Behind him, she saw books sail off the shelves and then stack themselves around them, interlaced like stones in a wall, closing off their row from the rest of the library. He breathed in her magic again, and green tips of plants burst through the worn carpet. They grew, thickening and sprouting. Curling, they wrapped around the bookshelves and spread across the ceiling tile. Leaves unfurled, and soon the bookshelves and walls were draped in lush summer green. Red buds popped from the bends in the green. And then the buds opened all around them, a riot of burgundy roses.

He picked one and handed it to her. She took it. It still smelled like dusty paper, but when he touched the petals, they changed color, shifting from red to purple to blue to pale yellow. “Lovely,” she said.

“Not done yet,” Zach said. “I can use the magic in multiple ways. I can even hold the magic for a little while before it dissipates. Watch this.”

Again he kissed her, taking her magic through the kiss and then pouring it into the library shelves around them. She saw the painting at the end of the row shimmer. Ripples spread through the paint, and water spilled over the lip of the frame.
It soaked into the carpet below, and water lilies sprouted in the dusty fibers. Painted geese swam in circles. “And now,” Zach said, “we dance.” He placed one hand on her back and held the other. She scooted her feet out of the way as he danced forward and backward, and then slowly she began to follow the rhythm. “You taught me this dance, and you described this bower. You said you’d seen it once and had wished you were the one dancing.”

She had? She didn’t remember that. She didn’t remember this!

Backward and forward. Their lips were almost touching, and she breathed with him as their feet danced. They rose into the air, spiraling up as they danced, and they swirled between the books and the roses and the pond on the wall.

She tried to remember …
Maybe, yes, maybe I know this …
The touch of his hand on her back. The feel of air beneath her shoes. This was familiar. Yes!

She could smell roses in her memory … But they were strewn on a stage. A woman in black and white scooped them into her arms and then waved to the audience. In Eve’s memory, the woman had no face. Eve’s feet faltered.

“What is it?” Zach asked. “What’s wrong? You liked this before. Said you never expected to have made a memory as nice as this. You said that. Remember?”

“I can’t.” She shook her head, as if she could shake the faceless woman out of her memory. “Stop. It’s not helping. Let’s just … stop.”

Gently, he kissed her again, and they drifted down. She
felt the carpet under her feet. Around them, the roses began to close. The vines withered and crumbled into dust. The painting stilled, and the water evaporated.

“Oh, don’t stop,” a voice drawled. “He still needs to serenade you or produce a marching band from his pocket.”

Aidan.

Within the wall of books, Aidan lounged against a bookshelf as if he’d been there for hours. He hadn’t changed since her last memory of him. His hair still dusted over his eyebrows, his lips were still curved in a mocking smile, and he was still lovely.

Zach stepped in front of Eve, as if to protect her. “You must be Aidan.”

Aidan tipped an imaginary cap. “And you must be Zach. Kudos on your dedication to getting the girl. Seriously, animated painted swans?”

“You aren’t welcome here,” Zach said.

“It’s a public place. By definition, everyone is welcome.”

“She doesn’t want to talk to you.” In front of Eve, Zach crossed his arms, as if attempting to channel Malcolm.

Aidan raised his eyebrows and then looked at Eve. “Eve, does your aunt know what kind of shenanigans you’ve been up to? I hope you’ve been sensible enough to hide it from her. For one thing, she’d be appalled that you fell for this sappy, maudlin mush. For another, if she knew you’ve been transferring your magic to a civilian … How much else have you told him?”

Eve opened her mouth and then shut it.

“Aww, you don’t remember, do you, Green Eyes?” Aidan said, ignoring Zach.

Eve felt as if her blood had turned cold. She couldn’t imagine that she’d told him about her memory losses, though of course she couldn’t remember if she had or not.

“But I’m not here about your extracurriculars. We have much more serious matters to discuss.” Aidan held out his hand, as if he expected Eve to take it. “Come on.”

“Don’t,” Zach said to Eve. “You told me you were warned not to trust him.”

Aidan mimed being stabbed in the chest. “I’m wounded to the quick! Who would say such a dastardly thing about me? Of course you can trust me, Green Eyes. We’re on the same side. This boy … He doesn’t even know there
are
sides. You think it’s a game, don’t you, local boy? Who can win the girl? Believe me, there’s a lot more at stake.”

Stepping in front of Zach, Eve blocked him. “You’re the one who plays games.”

“It was a test,” Aidan said, “as I have explained to you … and as you have forgotten. A test that you passed with flying colors.” He stretched out his hand again, palm up. “Come with me, and this time, I will explain everything. And more.”

“Everything?” Eve asked. If he had answers …

His smile broadened like a shark in view of a school of fish. “And more,” he promised.

“Eve isn’t going anywhere with you,” Zach said.

“Cute. But naïve. I see why you like him, Green Eyes. There’s such a sweet innocence about him. But it’s time to
put away the toys. There are grown-up matters to attend to now.”

“You can’t—” Zach began.

Aidan vanished.

Eve suddenly felt hands on her shoulders.

“Oh yes, I can,” Aidan said.

And the library and Zach vanished around her.

White.

And then red.

And then white, red, white, red, until Eve’s vision cleared and she saw that she faced a wall of red-and-white checkered wallpaper, mirrors, and plaster sculptures of women in draped dresses. Aidan’s hands were tight on her shoulders. She yanked away and fell forward. She caught herself on a table with a red-and-white checkered tablecloth, paper napkins, plastic cups, and menus.

“Easy there, Green Eyes,” Aidan said. “Takes a bit to adjust.”

The floor swam at her feet. She steadied herself on the table. She inhaled the smell of pizza and heard the bustle of people in a kitchen—the clanging of pans, the closing of ovens, the sound of knives on plates.

Straightening, she turned to face Mario’s House of Pizza. All the tables were empty except one. Topher and Victoria had staked out a round table tucked against the walls in the corner. It had three chairs. Seeing them, Victoria rose and dragged a fourth chair to the table.

“Take me back,” Eve said to Aidan.

“I told you,” he said. “It’s time to talk.”

She pulled the phone out of her pocket to call Malcolm. Aidan caught her wrist. He twisted the phone out of her hand and then slid it back into her pocket. She noticed that there was a mirror behind him. She could break it, make the glass fly at him … And end up in the hospital again, maybe lose even more days or weeks. She couldn’t face that. She sagged, and Aidan guided her toward the table as if he were a polite gentleman. Topher smiled a languid smile that could have been mocking or could have simply been pasted onto his face. Eve didn’t think for an instant that it was a genuine smile.

Victoria smiled at Eve too, showing her gleaming teeth. “Evy, relax. We want to be your friends. Believe me, we can be the most wonderful friends.”

Eve looked away. She couldn’t look at Victoria knowing that her sister—maybe even her sister’s death—was lodged somewhere in her memory … if she believed Aidan’s assertion that the antlered girl was Victoria’s sister.

“We thought we’d have time to win you over. Aidan had such a lovely plan …” Victoria sighed, and then said briskly, “But plans fall apart and time moves on, and now you’ll simply have to trust us.”

“Really, in your position, you don’t have much choice,” Topher said lazily. He propped his feet up on the table and tilted his chair back.

“What position would that be?” Eve asked.

Aidan drew the empty chair away from the table for Eve. Gently, he pushed down on her shoulder, encouraging her to sit. She shifted away from his hand, but she took the seat.

“I’m sensing a bit of tension,” Victoria said. “We need to remedy that with grease and garlic. Aidan, fetch the garlic knots. They should be ready by now.” She smiled again at Eve. “I think all serious conversations are better with fat and carbs, don’t you?”

Eve didn’t smile back. “What do you want?” She didn’t know what she was going to say when Victoria asked about her sister. She had no answers.

“Garlic knots. Weren’t you listening?” She snapped her fingers at Aidan. “Aidan. Fetch. Now.” Aidan looked amused, but he still trotted to the counter. “Nice boy,” Victoria said, either approvingly or ironically—Eve wasn’t sure which.

“He’s not,” Eve said. “He kidnapped me.”

“For your own good.” Victoria reached across the table and patted Eve’s hand. “We have to stick together. It’s dangerous these days.” Beside her, Topher played with sparks between his fingertips. He kept his hands low, under the table, so as not to attract attention.

“I’m sorry about your sister,” Eve said.

Topher rocked his chair forward, and it landed with a thump. His lazy smile had vanished. Victoria froze. She didn’t move. She didn’t breathe. For an instant, Eve thought her face was going to crack like an ice sculpture tapped with a chisel. “Thank you,” Victoria said, a chill frosting her voice. “Someday, she will be avenged.”

Returning, Aidan tossed a bowl of garlic knots on the table. The smell permeated the air and wormed into Eve’s nose until she breathed garlic.

Across the table, Topher squeezed Victoria’s hand. A smile flashed onto her face, too fast to be real. “Until then, there is one silver lining,” Victoria said. “If events hadn’t unfolded as they did, then we wouldn’t have been sent to this world, and we wouldn’t have met each other—or you.”

“Destiny,” Topher said.

“Ours and yours.” Aidan clasped Eve’s hand.

Eve extracted her hand from his. She didn’t know why they were making this hard sell to befriend her. She’d expected questions about Victoria’s sister or her visions or the case. “I’m not interested in destiny. I don’t need your ‘safety in numbers.’ The marshals are keeping me safe. So if you’ll excuse me—” She rose.

Victoria laughed, her voice a cascade. “Oh, Aidan, you are so right about her! She’s so … sweet and wide-eyed innocent as a little doe about to be served on a platter with julienned carrots and a fat apple in her mouth.” She mimed placing an apple in her mouth and then pretended to crunch into it.

Topher leaned forward. “You can’t trust the agency.”

“Funny,” Eve said. “They said the same thing about you.”

“Of course they did,” Victoria said. “They aren’t stupid.”

“Just short-sighted,” Aidan added.

“It’s their nature.” Topher tipped his chair back again. “They’re sheep. They can’t understand or appreciate the power
and beauty of wolves. They try to tame us, of course, to use us, but in the end, they fear us.”

Sitting next to her, Aidan smiled, a tender, encompassing smile. He stretched his arm against the back of her chair. She sat ramrod straight, not touching his arm. “We see your power and beauty, Eve, and we admire it. We treasure it.”

“You will be our treasure, my dear sweet Eve,” Victoria cooed. Aidan had called her a treasure before—a treasure that he’d been seeking, a prize to win. Eve didn’t like the sound of that. She wasn’t a thing. Eve glanced at the door and wondered how quickly she could reach it.
Not quickly enough
, she thought. Aidan could stop her in an instant.

“She doesn’t look convinced,” Topher observed. “In fact, she looks confused. We need to be clearer.” He leaned forward again. “Once this is all over, once the ‘case’ is closed, you will be killed.”

Eve stared at him.

“Your big, strong protector agent man will kill you himself,” Victoria said. “Or perhaps it will be more anonymous. A little poison. An injection. An IV in the hospital. Oh, how easy it will be for them, especially once you fall into one of your oh-so-precious fainting fits, which, by the way, are ever so charming—the wilting heroine.”