Mistress of Magic (18 page)

Someone was playing with her.

In the center of the light was the figure. Black-clad with a mop of yellow hair, faceless, coming toward her. Slowly, then more swiftly, seeming to move without feet.

A scream welled in her throat. Panic seized her. She started to turn toward the door, ready to pound on it and to scream in hysterical terror.

Then somehow, from somewhere, she fought the terror deep inside her.

It was her chance. She didn’t believe in specters, and she didn’t believe in ghosts. And if anybody knew the truth behind magic and illusion, it should be her. Fantasy was her business.

She had made it her life. She was mistress of all this fantasy herself, and she wasn’t going to be duped by tricks of light and darkness.

She turned, shoulders squared, chin firm. “Whoever the hell you are stand still and stop this lunacy! You will not hurt me, and you will not hurt Max, and so help me, I will see that you are locked away from society—and from any trick playing—for a long time!”

The figure wavered. It stood still.

Reggie took a good look at it and started walking forward. “Turn the lights on. Maybe we can discuss this—”

There would be no discussions.

The figure wasn’t alone. Reggie hadn’t begun to think that the figure might have an accomplice. She had been determined not to panic.

She heard the noise behind her too late. Even as she started to turn, something cracked down on her head.

Then the magic of illusion came to her in truth. Stars, thousands of them, seemed to appear on a black curtain before her.

Then the stars faded. In silence, she crumpled to the ground.

“Reggie, Reggie! For the love of God, speak to me!”

She opened her eyes slowly. For a moment they widened with panic; fear was the first sensation she remembered.

Then she realized that she was lying on the floor in the dino-saloon and that her head was balanced tenderly on Wes’s lap. Sharp gold eyes were staring anxiously into hers. His fingers were carefully testing the back of her skull.

She winced when he found the spot where she had been hit.

“Hurt?”

She nodded. Her eyes began to focus better. Max was hunkered down behind Wes.

“And I didn’t hit myself in the head!” she assured her brother.

He winced, then offered Wes a half smile. “Well, at least she isn’t hurt too badly. She’s as nasty as ever.”

“I beg your pardon!”

Wes helped her sit up. “We’ve got an ambulance on the way,” he told her.

“An ambulance? I—”

“Reggie, we walked in here and saw you on the floor. My heart came to a complete stop,” Wes said firmly. “You’re going to the hospital. They’re going to take a look at your skull. And Wiler wants to talk to you.”

“What happened?” Max asked.

Reggie shook her head. God, did it hurt! For a moment she couldn’t remember anything but the fear. Then she remembered that it was her bravado that had gotten her into trouble. “The robotronic person was back. The blond-haired one.”

“And the robotronic person hit you in the head?” Wes said.

She shook her head very slowly. The motion hurt. “No. The robotronic wasn’t alone. I started yelling something—telling the person that I was going to have him or her arrested. But someone was in back of me.”

“And you didn’t see who?”

“Not a thing.”

She heard footsteps then. Wiler was in the lead, two of his men were behind him, and two paramedics, a young woman and a young man, were behind them.

“Miss Delaney, you do seem to have all sorts of things happening to you,” Wiler began angrily.

As if she had wanted someone to conk her on the head!

“It’s nice to see you, too, Wiler,” she said sweetly. Wes lowered his eyes, grinning, but then he stood and addressed Wiler.

“You want to back off a little? She’s been hurt. She needs head X rays.”

“But my head is fine!” she protested.

“No, it isn’t. It hurts like a son of a bitch,” Wes assured her.

“I can’t go to a hospital—”

“They’ll just keep you overnight. For observation,” Wes assured.

“Hey, I’m not waiting for tomorrow to talk to her,” Wiler said.

Reggie was trying to rise. The paramedics were beside her, each taking an arm. “Miss Delaney,” the young woman said, “you should take it easy. Really.”

“Reggie, damn it, go with them!” Max commanded.

“I can’t take it easy—”

“I can play dinosaur,” Wes assured her. “And you can be out by the saloon show tomorrow afternoon. That is, if you behave decently tonight.”

The paramedics had her lying on the stretcher, which they had set on wheels. Wiler was arguing with Max, who was arguing angrily back.

“Wiler, damn it, give him a break, will you?” Wes suddenly exploded. “His sister has just been hurt, his ex-wife is still missing, his place is under some kind of absurd vandalism, and you won’t let him breathe! Why isn’t someone looking around here, trying to find out what has happened?”

“Oh, I see, Colonel, the military would be handling it better, right?”

“Hell, yes!”

“Well, maybe I’m not looking around because there isn’t going to be anything to find!” Wiler said. “And the fingerprints I’m going to get will be from hundreds and hundreds of Mr. and Mrs. Americas!”

“There’s surely something—”

“Well, then, you find it, Colonel Army Intelligence!” Wiler said. “This is a loony bin.” He turned, staring from Reggie on the stretcher to Max standing above her. “This is some kind of an inside job, and until one of you wants to get straight with me, there just isn’t going to be a damn thing to do! Let’s hope it happens while you’re still living and breathing, Miss Delaney!”

Furious, he stalked off. Max tensed, as if he would go after him, but Wes caught him by the arm. “It’s not worth it, Max. It’s not worth it.”

“Boy, he’s mad, isn’t he?” the young male paramedic murmured, looking after Wiler. “For my money, the cop hasn’t got any right to act that way, Mr. Delaney.”

“We did come on a medical emergency,” the young woman reminded everyone.

“But it isn’t an emergency,” Reggie protested. “Two aspirin and a cup of tea—”

“Let’s get Reggie in for a checkup, huh?” Wes said. “Max, he’s right. We’re not going to find anything here. Not now. Reggie is more important.”

Reggie kept protesting, but it was all to no avail. She was taken to an ambulance; Max and Wes hung back. She closed her eyes in the ambulance, but the young woman wouldn’t let her fall asleep.

“Bad day for you, too, is it?” Reggie asked her.

The paramedic laughed. “Not at all! Your brother offered both Jim—our driver up there—and me yearlong passes for entry to the park. It’s great! I love the place.”

Reggie closed her eyes. “So do I,” she said softly.

The young woman squeezed her hand. “Things will straighten out,” she promised Reggie.

Reggie hoped so.

But for the moment, they were going to get worse. When she reached the hospital, she found a nurse insisting she put on one of the ridiculous gowns that opened in the back and let a draft chill her to the bone. Barefoot and shivering, she went through a number of X rays. Then she found herself assigned a pleasant young doctor, and then a bed. She did manage to get a private room because Max had been downstairs making the arrangements. Max was with her when the doctor came in to tell her that she had a mild concussion and that they would watch her for the night. Reggie insisted that she didn’t want to stay.

“You have to,” Max said.

“I don’t!”

“You do.”

“Why?”

“Because I said so.”

“And I’m saying—”

“She’s staying,” came a voice from the doorway. Wes was there. He exchanged glances with Max and came into the room.

The young doctor leaned back, a grin curling his lip, his arms crossed over his chest. “I can’t talk sense to her, and her brother can’t talk sense to her. Have you got an idea, sir?”

Wes smiled pleasantly. “Yes. She’s staying. Because I’ll sit on her if it’s necessary to get her to do so.”

“Well, that’s a relief,” the doctor said. He flicked a light into Reggie’s eyes, first one then the other, and promised cheerfully that he’d see to it that she got ice cream after dinner. He left, and Max and Wes both burst out with compressed laughter. Reggie would have thrown her pillow at one of them, if she could have decided who she wanted to throw it at more.

“Fine! Laugh!” she told the two of them. But Wes had already sobered. He took a seat by her on the bed, lacing her fingers with his. “Reggie, can you tell us anything more?”

She thought about it for a minute. Then she shook her head. “The person is in costume with a mask and wig. What can I tell you?”

“And what sense does it make to keep plaguing Reggie?” Max asked unhappily.

A nurse’s aide walked in with a dinner tray for Reggie. “I’m not hungry—” she began.

“Yes, you are. You do want to leave in the morning, right?” Wes said.

She gritted her teeth. “This is incredible!” she told him.

“Yep. I’m arrogant, bossy and a lot more,” he assured her. Then he leaned down to kiss her forehead and added softly, “But remember, I’m ungodly sexy, too.” He straightened and looked at her brother. “Max, want to get a bite while Reggie eats?”

“Yeah, sounds good.”

They didn’t want to eat. They wanted to talk, she thought. And they were going to talk about her. “Hey, you two—” she protested.

But Max gave her a thumbs-up sign and they both disappeared into the hallway.

Half an hour later they were back. Max gave her a kiss good-night. Wes curled into the big comfortable chair by her bed.

“I’m consigned to this miserable place, not you!” she told him.

He was silent for a minute. “Is this where Caleb died?” he asked her.

She nodded.

“Hospitals do good things for people, too, you know,” he told her.

“The hospital tried very hard to do good things for Caleb,” Reggie said lightly. “It’s just the look of the walls, and the bed, and the scent of the place …”

The hospital smelled clean, but it didn’t have an overly antiseptic smell to it, Wes thought.

Still, he understood. Reggie hated to come here.

She had to come. It was important to her health.

Still …

What would her health matter if they couldn’t understand what was going on? It was true that Daphne had disappeared.

Now all the attacks were against Reggie.

He thought—maybe—that he knew what was going on. Just maybe. But he had to prove it.

And to prove it, he almost needed the attacks on Reggie to continue. His heart leaped and catapulted. He didn’t know if he could stand that. Seeing her tonight, so white and ashen and silent on the floor, he had felt as if the insides of his body had been ripped out.

Not Reggie, not this beautiful woman with her spirit and her laughter …

And her magic.

And then she had opened her eyes.

He couldn’t risk Reggie. No matter what. He wouldn’t leave her alone again.

Not with this going on. Not for a minute.

Her eyes, huge, luminescent, emerald, were on his. “What were you and Max talking about?” she asked him.

“Stock!” he told her cheerfully.

“How can you say that with a smile?” she asked. “Prices must be plummeting. And how can you lie to me like that?”

“Prices are plummeting, but don’t worry, I’m buying up whatever I can. And I wasn’t lying to you. We were talking about stock,” he said. And stockholders, he added silently.

“Mmm,” Reggie murmured doubtfully.

“By the way,” he told her, determined to get her mind from recent events. “I had lunch today with an old friend who’s an attorney.”

“Oh?” She frowned, and he knew she was wondering what his words could possibly have to do with anything.

“He’s helped any number of couples adopt,” Wes said.

Her eyes widened. A shield fell over them. “Illegal adoptions? Adoptions where you have to wait years—”

“He’s dealt with adoptions from out of the country, yes, but legal ones,” Wes assured her. “But you don’t always have to go out of the country. Sometimes, you can opt for a slightly older child. And he told me about lots of possibilities.”

Reggie tore her eyes away from his. “You think that I should adopt on my own?” she murmured.

“No, I don’t. But I won’t just live with you forever, Reggie.”

“You’ve scarcely been living with me a week!” she murmured.

“And a week has been enough. I love you, Reggie. But I won’t be some kind of a part-time lover or a stand-in Mr. Delaney. I want marriage.”

He saw her eyes glisten. “You’re a young man still, Wes—”

“No, I’m an aging old widower, remember?”

“You’re a young man!” she insisted softly. “And you may think you love me now, but sometime—”

“Reggie, I’m not all that young, and I’m not stupid, and I happen to like kids. But they don’t have to be my own. You think you and Max had it rough. I didn’t even know my real father’s name until he died, and trust me, it didn’t matter then. I told you before—love is what matters. Between a man and a woman, between children and grown-ups. There are a lot of kids in this world who need good parents. Maybe we can salvage life for one of them. You don’t have to answer me now—you can think about it.”

“I still don’t want you giving up your own natural children for me.”

“I’m not giving up anything. And I want an answer. You do have a little time.”

“How long?”

“At least until tomorrow.”

She smiled. He was glad. He had taken her mind off events at the park.

He squeezed her fingers. “Things are going to be all right, Reggie.”

She smiled. Her fingers squeezed his back. She closed her eyes.

In a little while he knew that she was sleeping. He smoothed a strand of her beautiful black hair. She’d given him so much. So much magic.

“I’d give up anything for you,” he whispered, “and never miss it.”

He sat in the chair, leaned back and closed his eyes.

If only he could get his hands on the truth and salvage her magical world …

It was probably natural that she should dream that night when she slept. And she did.