Kiss and Spell (Enchanted, Inc.) (24 page)

I lay my head back again, resting it against his chest. “I hadn’t thought of it that way. But I will run things by you.”

He settled his arms around me. “Nope, don’t do that. Do what you think is best, and then we’ll all discuss it. I’m not going to be the power behind the throne.”

His tone was light, like he was joking, but when I turned to look at him, his face seemed serious. The light was bad, so his face was mostly in shadow, and I thought maybe that was what made him seem so serious, but I sensed a real tension in him. “Mac could really make it rough on you back home, huh?”

“If he gives a bad report, yeah. I should have kept my mouth shut earlier. Showing signs of a temper probably wasn’t the best idea.”

“A saint would be losing patience by now.”

“I’ve looked up what my parents did, and I don’t blame people for being nervous.”

I rested my hands on his where he had them clasped at my waist. “There is something to be said for nurture over nature. You’re exactly like James, even with no biology in common. I’d have to think that the lessons you learned growing up have a bigger role in shaping the kind of person you are than a quirk or two of genetics. If anything, the Council’s practically driving you to get frustrated and lose your temper by treating you this way.”

“That may be their plan. My plan is to wait them out.”

“Just don’t go sacrificing yourself to save the world again. I’m not sure I could take it.”

Instead of replying, he craned his neck to look out the window behind the sofa. “I’m not seeing any gray guys. And there go Mac and McClusky. Let’s give it another half hour.”

It ended up being more like two hours because both of us fell asleep snuggled together. It meant we had to creep home in the wee hours, but on the upside, anyone who’d been watching the building had long since given up by the time we left via our respective entrances.

*

Exhaustion from the late night made it a lot easier to play “normal” the next day, in spite of a higher-than-usual number of gray guys in and around the store. Mac and McClusky were in their usual spot in the park, and Earl was at work, so it looked like everyone had made it out okay.

The subsequent morning, as I passed the science fiction section on my way to the stairs, Earl stepped into the aisle and whispered, “We’re starting recon tonight.”

I nodded, then out of the corner of my eye I noticed a gray guy watching us, so I said, “I think the flavor of the day is snickerdoodle spice, but I’m not sure.”

Earl replied, “Oh, I was hoping for pumpkin.”

“That one may be tomorrow. See you!” I fought not to let my eyes focus on the gray guy as I brushed right past him.

If the elves were starting on their part of the plan, then we needed to get going on ours. We had to be on the lookout for anyone who might have been taken after us who might know more about what was going on. Unfortunately, I didn’t see anyone who looked familiar come through the coffee shop. Dan was the only MSI person I was sure of, and he’d only come the once.

I went to Perdita’s café for lunch to find out if she’d discovered anyone else. She leaned on the counter and ticked off her revivals on her fingers. “Let’s see, there were two ex-boyfriends, but neither of them knew anything—about any plots or about anything else, if you know what I mean. My next-door neighbor here is my cousin, but I think they got him when they got me. I dated the guy who runs the grocery store on the corner. I also dated the guy at the cleaners. Not quite to boyfriend status, but the kiss still worked. Who knew that would be my superpower? Anyway, they seemed to get here just for working for MSI.” She smiled and added, “And I think my future ex-boyfriend is part of your group. He stopped by to introduce himself.”

“Your future ex?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“My relationships
never
work out, but I want this guy.”

“Yeah, I guess Brad is pretty hot,” I said.

“Brad? No, I meant Earl.”

“
Earl?
Really?”

“What? He’s cute, seems smart, and he’s not at all my type, which means it might actually work.”

“Well, good luck. He is nice. You don’t mind playing messenger?”

“I love it! And, hey, anything that gets us out of here, right?”

After lunch, I updated Owen, and he said, with no enthusiasm, “I suppose I’d better update Mac.”

Taken aback, I said, “Why? You don’t report to him. I’m the leader of this little movement.”

“But it’s a sign of good faith if I’m not withholding information.”

“Seriously? You’re really going to keep updating him, even though he has no official authority over you, here or anywhere else? If he’s such a good monitor, let him figure it out for himself.”

Looking pained, he said, “It doesn’t work that way.”

“If you’re going to tell him everything I tell you, then I’m going to start treating you like any other member of the group and keep things on a need-to-know basis.” My words came out a little more harshly than I intended, considering my main gripe was with Mac and his bosses, not with Owen.

But Owen didn’t seem to take offense. He nodded and said, “Yeah, that’s probably the best policy. If I don’t know anything, I can’t share it. Only tell me what I need to know to do my part.”

“Okay, then,” I said, my anger fizzling from the lack of opposition. It was hard to fight with someone who was agreeing with me. “I was thinking of trying to find MSI people tonight—just going out and about. Maybe we’ll run across Dan again. There’s got to be some point behind an operation this elaborate, and if we know that, we might get somewhere.”

With a tentative smile, he said, “That seems like a minor enough development that I don’t have to share it.”

“So, when I get off duty, are you up for going to a different part of the neighborhood for dinner?”

“Come get me when you’re ready. The nice thing about owning what amounts to an imaginary bookstore is that I only have to sort of look like I’m bothering to run it.”

“Now I’ll go sell some more imaginary coffee and keep your imaginary bookstore in business one more day.”

I really did have to wonder why they’d bothered creating a fake neighborhood to house the prisoners in. If they’d just taken us to another world reachable only by portal, we still wouldn’t have been able to escape. Was it that important to keep us from even wanting to get away? I supposed it might be, now that I thought about it. If all your prisoners had magical powers, you’d want to keep them from using those powers, and it might have been more difficult to do that for so many people than to create a fake nonmagical paradise.

Besides, once they were through with it, they could always lease it to filmmakers as a setting for cheap romantic comedies.

*

It was difficult to find a place to explore that we hadn’t visited already, and it was like looking for a needle in a haystack to find one person in this entire neighborhood, no matter how confined it seemed. Still, it was a finite place, and there couldn’t have been that many real people there.

“I know the best way to find him,” I quipped to Owen. “I just need to develop a raging crush on him and then dash out to the corner store with no makeup on, my hair under a ball cap, and wearing a stained old T-shirt. Then I could
guarantee
I’d run into him.”

“You think that would work?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“It worked often enough in the real New York, which is much bigger. In fact, it never fails.”

“Do you think you can stir up a crush that easily?”

“That would be the difficult part, considering I’ve only met him twice, other than the one time here. He hasn’t given me much to work with, alas.”

Then I thought I saw a familiar figure ahead of us and clutched Owen’s upper arm hard enough to cut off circulation. “Speak of the devil!” I breathed.

“I think you’re right,” Owen said, and we followed him. There were enough people on the sidewalks that we were able to blend into the crowd, and Dan didn’t seem to notice he had a tail. I wasn’t sure how long that would last, though. If Dan’s persona in this world retained even a tiny bit of his security staff instincts, he’d be on to us in a heartbeat.

“How can we approach him?” I asked Owen. “We don’t know him here. Everyone else, we’ve had a reason to talk to them, and Mac at least had regular habits. This may be our one chance.”

“You said he was a customer.”

“I made him one latte. If I recognize him in public and try to talk to him, I’ll look like a scary stalker.”

We followed him to a coffee shop, where he entered and took a seat at the counter. I started to head inside, but Owen held me back. “Maybe what we need to do is find a stranger he’ll want to talk to.”

“Should we go get Perdita?”

“I was thinking more about you.”

“Me? But if he saw me, he’d think I was a crazy stalker, remember?”

“Do you think you’ve got enough magic left to pull off that illusion again? Your bombshell may not be quite my type, but I’m guessing it’s his.”

“It’s worth a try. But we’d better find a phone booth for me to change in because it might attract notice if I changed here.”

We hurried around the corner and found a niche under a building’s front steps. There, I closed my eyes and concentrated on the spell, dredging up every last bit of power I had. I opened my eyes when I felt an additional surge and saw Owen holding my hand. “I thought I’d see if that would help,” he said. “It seems to have worked.”

“But, let me guess, it wouldn’t work like that to maintain my power all the time.”

“No, sorry. You’ll lose the power as soon as I drop the connection. It’s more like a power cord than a battery.”

“Will I be able to maintain the illusion?”

“Creating it takes more power, but you will have to stay focused on it.”

“How do I look?”

“Like someone he’d want to talk to.”

I remembered Rod’s lesson about maintaining the persona and the attitude as I walked down the street with Owen a few paces behind me. I wasn’t the sort of woman who got a lot of looks, even when I passed construction sites, but now I was turning heads. The fact that a lot of those heads were probably mere illusion didn’t make it less thrilling. The more people looked at me, the easier it was to keep my head held high and my hips swiveling.

I entered the coffee shop and placed myself on the stool next to Dan at the counter, then arranged my legs before purring, “Oh, is this seat taken?”

He turned to look at me, raised his eyebrows, then grinned. “Now it is.”

So far, this was going according to plan. Too bad I didn’t have a plan for after I caught his attention. I couldn’t break the spell in public, and I couldn’t think of a non-suspicious way to get him in private without him assuming I was some kind of hooker.

I ordered a cup of coffee, then said, “You look familiar. Have I seen you around?”

“I think I’d have remembered that,” he said, giving me an appreciative glance up and down my illusion’s body. I wondered if the illusion was blushing as much as I felt I was. “But I wouldn’t mind getting to know you.” He held his hand out to me. “I’m Dan.”

I took his hand and shook it. “Victoria,” I said, using the first name that came to mind to go with this illusion. “I still think you look familiar. You don’t have a bicycle, do you?” I asked. “For some reason, I’m picturing you as a bicycle messenger.”

He laughed. “No, I don’t think so.” Then he frowned, like he might have been trying to remember whether he had a bike.

“Or how about a security guard?” I asked, emphasizing the word “security.”

He was still frowning, and his eyes had gone unfocused, so I felt like I was close, but I didn’t know much else about him. He shook his head. “Nope, not that, either. What about you? What do you do?”

“Oh, I just work in an office, and my boss is a real gargoyle.” That didn’t seem to have any impact at all. Subtle might not work. The spell wouldn’t be very effective if it could be broken just by words related to a person’s real life coming up in conversation. I needed to find a way to put it all together in the right context, but that was going to be hard to do in public. It would probably also work better coming from someone he’d seen in the real world. He might be willing to chat with “Victoria” as a total stranger, but it would probably take Katie to break the spell. Unfortunately, I didn’t dare drop an illusion in front of everyone, and I didn’t have the technique or control to specify who did or didn’t see an illusion, so I couldn’t reveal myself to just Dan.

I resorted to chatting as flirtatiously as I could manage, and then asked, “Have you had dinner yet? I was going to go to this wonderful Italian place in my building. I usually get takeout, but I hate to eat alone. Wanna join me?” Katie wasn’t the sort of girl who’d ask a total stranger out to dinner, but necessity meant Victoria was. I hoped Dan might be the kind of guy who’d at least be intrigued.

He raised his eyebrows and studied me for a moment, then grinned and said, “Wow, I don’t think I’ve ever been picked up like that before. Do you promise that the food’s good? I’m really picky about Italian.”

“It’s the best, I swear.” I sensed a vibe of mild discomfort, so I hurried to add, “And we can go dutch. It doesn’t have to be a date. Just having dinner at the same table.”

Smiling, he nodded and said, “Okay, you’re on.”

We paid for our coffee, and I took his arm to lead him out of the café. I caught Owen’s eye as we passed and shook my head slightly, warning him to keep his distance. We turned onto a side street and walked by the building where I’d put on my illusion. When we reached that spot, I pulled Dan into the niche and instantly dropped the illusion.

“What is this? What’s going on?” Dan protested, trying to back away from me. “Are you mugging me? And who are you? Where did Victoria go?”

Figuring I had nothing to lose and very little time before he started shouting loudly enough to draw attention, I snapped, “Your undercover identity is as a bicycle messenger and you worked with the gargoyles to foil an elf attack.” It might not have been a particularly vivid memory for him, but at the very least I thought it should provide a significant level of cognitive dissonance. With any luck, when combined with my presence, it would do the trick.