Waiting for Magic (15 page)

“His style was unique
.” Kee was forced to defend Gauguin. He was an expressionist. “The use of color….”

“Faugh!” Pendragon rolled his eyes. “There were a hundred others who used color better.”

“But not the same,” Kee reminded him.

Pendragon focused on her. “And you admire originality above all?”

Kee blinked. “Not above all … but I admire it.”

“I take it you paint, M
iss Tremaine.”

Kee blushed.

“She does,” Devin said. She could actually hear him gritting his teeth. “Very well.”

“But not, I think, with originality, yes?” Pendragon cocked his head.

There was no reason she had to answer his question. And the pain of being always a copyist was so personal she’d never told anyone but Dev. But for some reason, she answered anyway. “No. That is my failing. I do not have a unique vision.”

“But of course you do.” Pendragon waved a forkful of quail in the air, dismissive of Kee’s
difficult confession. “Everyone does. You just don’t have the courage to let it out. It might be shameful or revealing, dark.” He paused. “Passionate.”

Kee could feel her eyes get big. What did
she say to that?

Mr. Green brought dessert just then, which allowed Kemble time to intercede, thank goodness. “Which brings us back to the reason we have come. We had to come away before we could get an idea of the whole collection, but you must know its contents better than anyone. Are there any artifacts that could be connected to the fifth century around the time of King Arthur?”

That was Kemble. Always direct. Another reason he’s unlike Father, Kee thought as a spoonful of sorbet she thought must be lychee melted on her tongue. Her father was nothing if not devious on occasion. As she now knew, since she’d pried his past out of him three summers ago, devious was in his soul. But Pendragon didn’t seem to mind Kemble’s assault on his portcullis, so to speak.

“There might be a couple,” he said vaguely.

“We aren’t looking for just coins and things,” Devin added. “And no belt buckles.”

“Unless they’re magic belt buckles.” Pendragon smiled. “Correct?”

“No belt buckles,” Kemble agreed. “More in the line of cups. And wands. As we said.”

Pendragon nodded. His eyes were green in the golden light of the candles. She could have sworn they’d been blue earlier. “Yes, so you said. Any particular reason for those two selections?”

“Not really,” Kemble said, lifting one shoulder.

“I see.”

Kee suddenly was very afraid that he did see.

“Well, I will certainly peruse my catalogue and try to find anything I have that may be of help. I could hardly refuse such a beautiful young creature’s request,” he added. Those green eyes were glued to Kee, but took little glancing side trips over to Devin. “Which is why you are the one who made it, no doubt.” He turned his attention to Kemble. “I assume you know I have a soft spot for beautiful … women.” Again the glance to Devin, who was looking remarkably handsome in the warm light. The warm golds and browns of the smoking jacket Pendragon had given him made
went with his tie and made his hair look a thousand colors of yellow as it dried. The fringe of really long lashes on his brown eyes made him look vulnerable.

Kemble attempted nonchalance. “Really?”

“Ah, women these days are rarely graceful in the way their sex was born to be. Present company aside, of course.” He nodded to Kee. “Sarah Bernhardt. Now there was a real woman. I was also partial to Mary Pickford. She played the child. But she wasn’t.” Here he gave a hearty chuckle. “Not by a long shot.”

Kee blinked. He was talking about them as if he had known them, not like they were historical figures. Now that she had all her senses about her, she realized that he’d talked about Paul Gauguin that way too. She let her eyes slide over to Devin, beside her. He was riveted on Pendragon the way a mongoose looks at a cobra. He must have caught it too.

Pendragon reminisced on through coffee.

“Well, I’m afraid we must go, Mr. Pendragon. Er, Magnus,” Kemble corrected himself. “May I call you tomorrow to see what you’ve found in your collection?”

“Call whenever you can,” Pendragon said, an enigmatic smile on his lips. “You will excuse me if I don’t rise.”

Mr. Green appeared, though Kee couldn’t remember Pendragon summoning him. “Green will escort you out. Make sure they have umbrellas, Green.”

Kee started to slip out of the beautifully made mules he had loaned her.

“No, no, my dear. Keep them.
”

“The feathers would be ruined,” Kee protested.

“Wet shoes will only cause blisters, my dear. You can return them later if you have the chance.”

Kemble stepped forward and shook Pendragon’s hand. “It’s good of you to consider our request,” he said. “And it was a lovely dinner.”

“Yes,” Kee and Devin said in unison.

Devin muttered, “Sorry,” under his breath. He knew she hated behaving like twins.

Kee continued, “The quail was especially nice.”

“A holdover from my days in India and the Levant
,” Pendragon said wistfully. “So long ago.” He sighed. “Have a safe trip home.”

How did he convey so much menace when the words were ordinary and his delivery was utterly flat? But Kee felt another shudder go up her spine. She gave a little wave and headed for the door, Devin right behind her. She wanted out of this place.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Devin helped Kee into the front seat, holding the umbrella over her head, then scrambled into the back seat, hauling both umbrellas in with him. He and Kemble slammed their doors. The trip across the lawn had him looking back for whatever it was that made him shudder in the darkness. But he couldn’t see anything.

“Whew!” Devin said as Kemble started the SUV with a roar. Rain sheeted down the windshield. The drops rattled against the metal of the roof. Kemble turned the wipers on high.

“Let’s get out of here,” Kemble muttered, and started making his way back down through the winding streets to the 101 Freeway.

Nobody said anything for a while. Devin had never seen it rain this hard. It was difficult to even see the cross streets and make their turns. They almost missed the freeway entrance. Only the telltale green sign alerted them, and then not until it appeared out of the rain at the last minute. Not that
they could actually read it. Even on the freeway, the sparse traffic was going about forty. They couldn’t go any faster in this much rain.

“So, uh, was that weird or what?” Devin started to relax. They were on the way home.

“More than just a little,” Kee agreed. “How did you like the way he talked about those historical figures like he’d known them?”

“Why would he do that?” Kemble muttered. “If it was true and he is much older than he looks, why would he reveal that to us?”

“He isn’t that old,” Devin said, disgusted. “That whole act was just to scare us.”

“Why?” Kee blurted. “He didn’t want to scare us off. He actually said he’d look for artifacts. I’m just afraid he knew why we wanted them. Using the words cups and wands was too obvious, Kemble.”

“Guy had me on edge,” Kemble mumbled.

Devin could see Kee was instantly sorry she’d said anything. It was hard to criticize Kemble when you knew he criticized himself ten times more than you ever could. “Well, I’m with Devin,” she said. “He’s a drama queen. Who plays both sides of the fence, by the way. That whole ‘I’m
older than you think’ stuff was just an act.”

“It’s probably all just an act,” Devin agreed.

“When I call him, he’ll just say he didn’t find anything we could use.” Kemble gave a big sigh as he peered through the windshield. “If only we had something he wanted.”

“Hey, I think you missed the exit for the Harbor South,” Kee said, peering at the sign for the next off ramp.

“Did I?” Kemble looked around.

“I didn’t even see the sign,” Devin said. “You could take the 10. Have we passed it too?”

“I don’t know the names of the exits down here very well,” Kemble said. “I’ll take the next exit and turn around.”

A green sign loomed ahead. “Alameda,” Kee read.

“Alameda it is.” Kemble took the exit and they eased off the freeway into an eerie land of old brick buildings and decrepit warehouses with blank, staring windows. The rain gave everything a soggy look. Kemble took the next left. Logical. Go under the freeway and there’d be an onramp on the other side for the 101 North.

But there wasn’t. And no street lights either. The street dead-ended in a chain
-link fence festooned with piles of sopping trash in the dark.

Devin could feel Kee’s tension ramp up. “It’s okay,” he said to reassure her.

“We just tried to get under the freeway too soon,” Kemble said, as though he wasn’t concerned.

They turned around then went left at the stop sign. There were no stoplights here. Cardboard tents huddled among some abandoned gas pumps under a corrugated metal roof. Tonight was not the night to be homeless, as if there were ever a night to be homeless.

They sloshed slowly down the street, peering down each possible left turn to see if the street went under the freeway. Kemble made one more false start and had to turn around when there was a surprise building blocking the way. “We’ve got to be east of downtown,” he muttered. “I’ll take a right to go south and a right at the first major street we find. That’ll get us back into familiar territory.” Devin knew he was trying to sound sure of himself for Kee.

They bumped over several train tracks. Then they had no choice but to turn right. The SUV’s lights hit a chain-link fence that blocked their way ahead. They made their way down the narrow asphalt street, pocked with potholes, between the fence and the train tracks.

“Why the fence?” Kee asked anxiously.

Devin knew. He could feel the water. “L.A. River.”

The road narrowed even further as it climbed up what amounted to a levee right beside the fence. It had turned into little more than a rutted asphalt trail along the shoulder as three-story warehouses rose on the other side of the tracks. The headlights bobbled over a wide expanse of turbulent muddy water through the sheeting rain. The L.A. River was in full flood. It was nearly up to the bank.

“Whoa.” Kemble probably didn’t realize he’d picked that expression up from Maggie.

“That looks like it’s coming over the edge any minute,” Kee whispered.

“Did the Sepulveda Dam break?” Devin asked.

“They let water into the flood basin last week to control the level. Looks like it didn’t do much good.” Kemble hunched over the steering wheel, looking for any way off the little road. The slope down to the tracks on the right was now too steep to consider an exit. It was an accident waiting to happen. Beyond the tracks, a couple of parking lots sat next to the warehouses, but it was clear from this angle they didn’t lead anywhere.

Kee sounded frightened as she said, “Maybe we should go back.…”

The SUV jerked under them so hard their heads snapped. It practically leaped sideways into the fence. “Shit,” Devin yelled as Kee screamed. The left fender pushed the chain link out. Kemble threw the transmission into reverse.

Devin swung around in his seat. “What was that?”

The SUV got hit again. It slammed into the badly bowed fence, bending the nearest metal posts in toward the churning maelstrom of the river. Its back end was now swung out across the road, heading them straight into the fence and the river beyond.

“Damn it!” Kemble yelled. He never swore. The tires squealed as he threw it into reverse and hit the accelerator.

No car was near enough to hit them. Through the downpour Devin saw the wavering outline of a guy standing near a dark-colored car parked next to one of the warehouses. The figure held his hand up, palm out. He pushed his palm out. Their SUV slammed back into the fence again, as if Kemble wasn’t in reverse at all. Their heads all snapped with the impact.