Daddy Warlock (18 page)

Tara didn't know the answers. She didn't know what she would do if she lost her son or Chance, or both. She
couldn't think about that now. She had to clear her mind, and hope that somehow she could find a way to help.

W
HEN HE LOST
his sense of Tara's presence, it worried Chance at first. He wished he knew whether she was simply distracted, or had become unable to contact him.

In either case, he needed to try to sense his son's thoughts. Shouldering his way out of the staircase and into the second-floor corridor, he crouched down where the air was clearer and formed a picture of Harry in his mind. The key was to open his consciousness and allow the contact to establish itself.

It wasn't working. Except for his unique link with Tara, Chance had never before tried to reach someone who wasn't within sight, and the disorienting effects of smoke and heat made it doubly hard to concentrate.

Then he felt Tara rejoin him. Oxygen cleared away the haze in his brain and his mind came to a sharp focus. It was as if he could not only feel her but breathe with her.

An unnamed power was fusing their spirits, boosting Chance's ability to reach out. As he released his tension and opened himself to receive contact, he caught a fleeting hint of fear. Was he tapping into his son's thoughts or mistaking his own emotions for telepathic communication?

Then the fear returned, plus more. Confusion. Determination. Concern for Lois.

Bits and pieces came to him, not clearly enough to provide a picture of the missing pair, but at least he knew they were still alive. The one fact that reached him clearly was that Harry and Lois had found a third staircase, closer to the fire's origin.

Chance strained to stay with the child's mind. The sensations kept slipping away, but he had to learn more. He
needed at least a general idea of where the two had gone, or he would never have time to find them.

Help me, Tara.

A tingling across his skin gave him the odd impression of a ghostly figure overlying his body. Then, with a cooling sigh and a subliminal buzz, their spirits merged.

With the boost from their combined strength, he caught an image of Harry and Lois staggering down from the attic until the staircase became too smoke filled for them to reach the ground floor. They emerged here, on the second floor.

Rising, Chance shouted their names, then realized he must have seen something that had happened earlier. Otherwise, he would have heard or spotted the pair by now. But where had they gone?

He struggled to visualize which room they had entered, but exhaustion thinned the connection with Tara. Drained and starting to cough, he couldn't find her again.

“We need to search the rooms, fast.” He turned, expecting to find Ray behind him, but the man wasn't there. A glance at the landing showed that he wasn't waiting on the stairs, either.

How like the .man to have fled, just when he was needed most! Restraining his anger, Chance returned his attention to the corridor.

He didn't have more than a few minutes to search before he himself would be overcome. He would have to check the rooms and hope the pair were in plain sight.

The first room proved to be an office, crammed with desks and filing cabinets. Chance shouted their names hoarsely, but there was no answer.

Pulling the cummerbund tighter around his mouth, he moved on.

A
GREAT MANTLE
of weariness pressed down on Tara. She, too, had seen Harry and Lois stagger from the stairs into the second-floor hallway, but where were they?

She tried to reach out, to give Chance her strength, but received only an impression of choking darkness. It had an odd familiarity, not from the distant past but from something she'd seen recently.

A videotape on fire preparedness. She'd checked it out of the library a few months ago to watch with her son. It had been one of those endless motherly precautions, like posting CPR instructions on the refrigerator.

The video's horrifying depiction of roiling darkness had given her nightmares. Harry hadn't been fazed, though.

A comment he'd made tickled the back of her mind, as hard to grasp as a fading dream. What was it? What had he said?

“Why don't the people get in the bathtub?”

That was it! He'd been convinced that hiding in a tub of water was the best protection from a fire. Although Tara had pointed out the deadliness of smoke inhalation, Harry hadn't understood.

Was it possible the notion had stuck in his mind? She had to let Chance know.

I
T WAS TAKING LONGER
than he expected to go through the rooms. Once Chance thought he saw a shadow move, and shoved aside several boxes before he realized it had been caused by lights outside the window.

There were half a dozen more rooms, and he was running out of air. He still hadn't seen any firemen on this floor. Why didn't they come racing up the main staircase, which must connect with the other end of the hallway?

As he thrust his way into yet another office, the chilling
truth struck him. The main staircase didn't reach this corridor. There must be another section of second floor, separated by the two- and three-story meeting and ballrooms. Unless the firemen stumbled across one of the two smaller staircases, they wouldn't even know this area existed until too late.

Even keeping close to the floor barely provided enough air. Sputtering and gasping, Chance knew he could investigate one more chamber at most.

Bathtub.

He heard the word, and knew the communication came from Tara. It was all she could get through to him.

Somehow, she had figured out where Harry was. Now if Chance could only find him.

Bypassing the next two offices, he staggered toward a narrow door. It was too dark to read, but his fingers traced the letters
R
and
E.

Rest room.

He staggered inside, peering through the haze. There were two toilet stalls and a sink but no tub. Bitterness churned as he realized that, even if Harry had come here, the boy wouldn't have found what he was seeking.

But this was an old house. Maybe the tub lay in an adjacent room, out of sight.

Stumbling around the stalls, he saw that he'd guessed right. Behind them stood a small door that he would otherwise have mistaken for a closet.

“Harry? Lois?” Wrenching it open, Chance stepped onto a tiled surface.

Floodlights from outside shone through a narrow window onto an old-fashioned claw-footed tub filled with water. In the distorted shadows, he thought for a moment it was empty, then realized he was seeing an almost solid mass formed by two bodies intertwined.

“Daddy!” A little voice raised goose bumps across his flesh.

“Chance! Lois tried to rise, slipped and grabbed the edge of the tub.

He pulled them both from the water. The splash of wetness against his clothing felt wonderful, but it couldn't compare with the exultation of seeing their eager faces.

Harry nestled into his father's arms. “You saved us!”

“Thank heavens, you're here.” Trembling and soaked, Lois didn't look much older than the boy. “I can't believe we're safe!”

The danger was far from past, however. They still had to get out of here.

Chance doubted they'd be able to go back the way he'd come. Without giving it any more thought, he yanked at the double-hung sash window.

It stuck. Two more shoulder-straining jerks and he shoved it open. Leaning out, he waved and shouted, but with all the commotion, he couldn't make himself heard.

He didn't need to. Whether she'd seen him or sensed him, Tara noticed him at once. With a signal of recognition, she ran toward one of the firefighters.

It seemed to take forever, but must have been no more than a few minutes, before a ladder reached them. With a fireman's assistance, Chance boosted Harry out the window, followed by a shivering Lois.

He himself was coughing so hard, he nearly fell on the way down, but he wasn't going to give up now. Only when his feet made contact with the pavement did he allow himself to stagger in exhaustion.

A fire captain caught him. “Is everyone out, sir?” the man asked.

About to answer in the affirmative, Chance hesitated.
“My father went up with me and then he vanished. I assumed he came downstairs.”

“What does your father look like, sir?” the captain queried, when a shout came from the attic. Above, a firefighter emerged onto a ladder with a large body draped over his shoulder.

Instead of fleeing, Raymond must have thrust his way into the thick of danger. He'd been trying to find his niece and grandson in the attic.

He was hurt but alive, one of the firefighters said a few minutes later. That was the last thing Chance heard before he blacked out.

“It is a time for new beginnings.” Great-aunt Cynda plopped her crystal ball onto the table beside Raymond's hospital bed.

“I suppose it is.” Tara stifled a yawn. She'd spent the night at Harry's bedside while he, Chance and Lois were under observation and Ray was treated for smoke inhalation and second-degree burns.

The boy was napping this morning, and Tara had decided to accompany Cynda as she visited the others. They'd left Chance when his doctor arrived, and picked up Lois en route to the burn unit.

“Things will be different now,” Cynda announced. “Very different indeed.”

“You've seen the future?” Lois asked. Her hands, which had been blistered last night, were thrust deep into the pockets of her bathrobe.

“I don't need to see the future. It's clear to anyone.” The older woman stepped away from the crystal ball. “I thought my nephew might want to practice with this while he's laid up. He needs to find a better outlet for his energies than trying to manipulate other people.”

From his mummylike swathe of bandages, Raymond eyed her ruefully. He was doped up with painkillers, but
the doctor had said the burns weren't severe enough to be life threatening and he should make a full recovery.

“I guess we all need a better outlet for our energies,” Lois admitted. “Tara, I'm sorry. I've been so stupid and selfish.”

“At least it came out okay,” Tara said. “I'm glad you weren't hurt more seriously.”

“Thanks to Harry.” The young woman grimaced. “He's the one who kept calm, not me. He's a very special little boy, and not because of any darn mind-reading abilities. Phooey on that.”

“I'm glad to see you've had a change of heart,” Cynda told her granddaughter. “And a change of career, too, I hope.”

Ray mumbled beneath his bandages.

“You stay out of this,” said Cynda.

“Oh, let the mummy speak.” Lois shot her boss a skeptical glance. “Well?”

The words were slurred and only partly audible. “Somebody has to mumble mumble and take over the business. Lois has the right mumble.”

“You're retiring? Good!” Cynda gave his bandaged leg a thump. “New beginnings, just as I said!”

“I've got a lot to learn about the company.” Lois sighed. “You have executives who are a lot more qualified than I am. But maybe I'll stick around and work my way up.”

“You can do it,” said Cynda.
“Without
any sneaky stuff.”

“Absolutely,” Lois agreed. “By the way, Raymond, what did Victor Moustaki have to say about last night's fiasco?”

“Surely he isn't taking phone calls!” Cynda protested.

“I have it on good authority he took this one,” said
her granddaughter. “I talked to his secretary this morning.

“He mumble mumble that we were spying mumble mumble cussed me out. The deal's off.”

“Serves you right.” Cynda's peppery response, far from angering Raymond, raised a low chuckle.

“I'm a changed man. I'll never mumble mumble again.”

“We'll see about that.” She gave him a stern look.

After a few minutes, Tara excused herself and made her way to Harry's room. She found her son awake, playing with a menagerie of stuffed animals sent by a kindhearted public. The dramatic rescue had appeared on the late news and in this morning's papers.

The coverage had reached as far as Kentucky. Tara's father had called earlier, full of concern. He'd invited her, Harry and Chance to come visit his new family, and she'd said they would, when things settled down.

Her father's rejection when she'd needed him most could never entirely be erased, but neither could the ties between them. Tara was glad her son would have a chance to know both his grandfathers.

“How's Daddy?” the boy asked as she sat down.

“He's fine. You should both be coming home today,” Tara said. “You're a hero. Did you know that?”

He grinned. “I can't wait to tell Al and Sammi!”

“I'll bet they already know.” She stroked a shock of brown hair from his forehead. Aside from some bruises, he'd come through the ordeal remarkably unscathed. “You saved Lois's life.”

His expression grew serious. “It was Dad who saved us. And you did, too, figuring out about the bathtub. Mom?”

“Yes, sweetie?”

“I thought I was real powerful, because of the stuff I can do. But it wasn't much use against a fire, was it?”

She scooped her son into her arms. “Magical powers are no substitute for good judgment and courage. And you showed both of those last night”.

A nurse came in with discharge papers, and there was no more time for quiet talk. Tara found herself bustling through the hospital, making sure all the paperwork was completed for Chance as well as for Harry. She barely had time to say goodbye to Cynda and Lois.

Raymond was undergoing therapy, but she would visit him tomorrow. Having seen how he'd risked his life to try to save Harry and Lois, Tara was willing to give him a second chance. She doubted he would turn into a model grandfather, but she suspected last night's lesson would stick.

Rajeev arrived with the Lexus to collect the three of them. On the way home, Harry filled their ears with chatter about his new stuffed animals. Each was named after a video-game character: there were monkeys named Diddy and Dixie and bears named Mario and Luigi.

Chance, sitting in front beside Rajeev, nodded and gave his son an occasional half smile over his shoulder. His face betraying his exhaustion, he hadn't said much this morning. The doctor had cautioned that last night's brush with death must have been traumatic, and that he would show some lingering effects.

When Harry finished, Rajeev took over, explaining that the remainder of the competition had been scheduled for the following week. “Now that we have more experience, I am sure we will win,” he said. “We have got our feet wet. Or sooty. Or something.”

They arrived home to find the house filled with the
aroma of baking. Proudly, Vareena presented them with an array of spicy vegetable-filled pastries for lunch.

Afterward, following doctor's orders, Chance and Harry both went to bed. Tara checked the answering machine and returned phone calls from Chance's staff and a number of friends, including Denise. She assured them that everyone was fine.

She wished she felt more confident about that herself. Something had changed last night between her and Chance, Aunt Cynda had been right; there'd been unfinished business between them from a past life.

From the moment they'd met, fate had pushed and dragged Tara and Chance toward last night's terrifying turn of events. They had survived the fire and, at least in a symbolic sense, overcome the tyrant. The circle had been completed.

But what did that leave? At the hospital, Tara hadn't felt the sensual pull that would shift her into Chance's awareness. That connection had vanished, as if silence had fallen between them.

These past months, she'd been afraid of making love with him, afraid of what might happen when they merged. She ought to feel relieved. With the old bonds removed, she was free.

But seeing Chance in deadly peril had made her realize that life would never be complete without him. The tender, teasing way he looked at her, the touch of his hands, the herbal scent of him had become a part of her.

New beginnings.
She hoped Cynda was right this time, as well. But where did they start? And how could she be sure that Chance would want to begin again?

It didn't make Tara feel any better when he took dinner in his room. She and Harry ate in the kitchen with Rajeev and Vareena.

Although she enjoyed their company, it was a relief to learn that the pair would be leaving after dinner to drive to. San Diego. A cousin from India had called to say he was flying into town unexpectedly on business, and hoped they could meet him. His only free time would be early the next morning.

“We haven't seen him in three years,” Vareena.explained.

“That's a long way to come for such a short visit,” Tara said as she helped collect the dishes.

“He is going also to Chicago and New York.” Rajeev tucked leftovers into plastic containers. “Then he will return home by way of Europe.”

“We want to show him our dancing,” Vareena said. “We will take the boom box.”

“And now we must pack,” said her brother. “We return tomorrow afternoon.”

“There's no hurry. I can handle things here.” Much as she liked the pair, Tara wanted some time alone with Chance. They needed to talk and perhaps make some painful decisions.

With the psychic link severed, it would be awkward for her to stay here. Of course, Chance would always be Harry's father, and they would never forget what they'd shared, but she was beginning to wonder if their “new beginnings” weren't destined to be separate.

Escorting Harry back to their quarters, Tara felt a spurt of determination. She didn't want to be some figure from Chance's past. She didn't just want to be his coparent, either. She wanted the whole man.

These past months, their mental link had, in a way, interfered with establishing a normal relationship. But that didn't mean it couldn't be done.

Because of his magic powers, Chance might be more
sensitive than she was to the changes that had occurred last night, and he'd certainly suffered more physical trauma. So it was up to Tara to take the first step.

She read Harry a story and waited until he fell asleep. Then she went into her bedroom to brush her hair and freshen her makeup.

The rainbow-hued suit from last night's dinner waited on a hanger for a trip to the dry cleaners. Gazing at it, she realized that she no longer felt it had been designed for someone more sophisticated and elegant In the course of the past twenty-four hours, Tara had become that woman.

Her elbows and knees had stopped feeling as if they had minds of their own. Her body seemed not too thin but just right. Even her hair fell smoothly into place.

What about Chance? she wondered. Had his perceptions of himself altered, too?

More curious than apprehensive, she changed from jeans and a blouse into a simple black jersey sheath. Then she strolled toward his suite, taking a shortcut through the courtyard.

In the early-summer twilight, she felt the nearness of living things. Trees and flowers scented the air, and an errant bee hummed past, late to the hive. A cricket chirped hopefully from an unseen location.

She almost didn't see Chance standing near the staircase, his muscular body a silhouette among shadows. He watched her with a guarded expression.

“Do you feel different?” she asked.

Warmth gleamed in his silver eyes. “A little. Mostly I was worried about how you would feel.”

“Harry's asleep,” she said. “Rajeev and Vareena went to San Diego to see a relative.”

“It would seem that the night is ours”. He rested one arm on the ironwork railing.

This was the first time she had ever been able to perceive Chance objectively. He was strikingly handsome, she realized, even without unseen forces making her desire him. Although not unusually tall, his classical build and knowing air made him dominate the space around him.

“It's amazing how relaxing this is,” he murmured.

“What do you mean?”

“I've had to maintain a barrier between us. It's something I can do with part of my mind, and often I was hardly aware of it. But it was always there.”

How ironic, she thought. Losing their psychic connection had meant gaining a different kind of openness.

“This was where we first met.” He stepped forward, extending his hand. “Hello, I'm Chance Powers.”

“I'm Tara Blayne.” As she shook it, the air between them zinged with chemical reactions.

“Welcome to my Halloween party,” he said.

“Oh, dear.” She smiled. “I think my girlfriend and I have come to the wrong place.”

“Then let's make sure it turns out to be the right one,” he said.

M
AGIC HAD BEEN
many things to Chance, and brought him many experiences. But he had never known anything like this.

When he put his arms around Tara, she melted into him without reservation. Their mouths met with a spark, and her arms twined around his neck in sultry invitation. This was a different kind of magic from what he had known before. Deeper and purer.

They drifted up the stairs, pausing for a kiss, an
embrace, a whisper of tender longings. Her hair brushed his cheek, soft as an angel's wing.

The desire that she aroused was more urgent than he had felt before, yet he wanted to prolong this sensuous anticipation as long as possible. This time, when they made love, they would enter a new world together.

Last time, they had understood nothing. This time, he thought with a flash of humility, they understood only a little more. It would take the rest of their lives to explore the realm that can be created between one man and one woman.

The tower admitted them at a touch. He murmured some words, and a bed appeared.

At the same time, Chance got the impression that this was no longer a room but a glade in a forest. Beneath tall straight trees glowed colors as bright as stained glass—the emerald green of the forest floor, the flashing scarlet of enchanted birds.

He and Tara sank onto a bed as soft as goose down. In some ways she was a stranger to him; in others, his dearest friend and partner.

With the perceptions of a man instead of a magician, he relished the flush on her cheeks and the velvet of her skin as he smoothed away the clingy dress. With a twist and a shrug, he removed his own shirt and pants.

Tara ran her hand up his hip and along his ribs. “I feel as if this were our first time.”

“It is,” he said.

She slipped out of her undergarments, showing no trace of self-consciousness as he drank in the long lines of her body. Her small firm breasts invited his hands to cup them, and, when he did, she sucked in a shuddering breath.