A Lonely Magic (3 page)

Fen closed her eyes. Oh, God, she was stupid. How embarrassing. What the hell, of course, he wasn’t a vampire. Vampires didn’t exist. And even if they did, why would she think he was one? He was standing in bright sunlight.

“Sorry,” she muttered, not looking at him. “I just…”

“It's all right,” he interrupted her. “I’m not American. But I’ve lived here long enough that I was surprised you could tell. That’s all.”

Fen took a deep breath and released it slowly. Yeah, no. Something about this guy had every hackle raised, every nerve on full alert. He was dangerous, she knew it. But hey, apparently he wasn’t going to kill her immediately, so she’d go with it for now.

“I’d like to go home,” she repeated stubbornly.

“Wait here,” he said. “I’ll make arrangements.”

He disappeared through the door.

Fen waited. And waited. And waited some more.

Eventually, she wrapped the blanket around her and followed him through the door to investigate.

The huge bedroom connected to a living room, as ridiculously posh as the bedroom. In the center of the room, two couches in white leather faced one another, a coffee table between them, a cushy chair at one end, and an enormous television on the wall opposite the chair. In one corner, a glossy table included seats for six, a tray of food at one end, and on the other, a glass and chrome desk looked like home base for a high-tech workstation.

A guy—six feet plus of muscle, close-cropped hair, and more muscle—stood at the door, dressed in a dark shirt and pants.

Fen stopped breathing.

A guard.

Was he keeping her in or other people out?

Shit.

“The guy who was here before said he’d bring me clothes,” she said, her voice sounding raspy with fear to her own ears.

“Yes, miss.” The guard’s eyes flickered in her direction, then returned to a straight-ahead stare. “Soon.” With a twist of his wrist, he indicated the table. “Breakfast is available for you, should you wish to eat.”

Fen exhaled carefully.

Breakfast, huh.

Hiking up the blanket, she made her way to the table and sat down where she could watch the guy at the door. Damn, but he was hot. Something must be wrong with her that all these terrifying men looked so luscious.

She looked at the tray of food. What the hell was she supposed to do with the pretty white carnation in a vase, eat it? But the bacon—perfectly crispy, ridiculously thick—looked tasty. Scrambled eggs, toast, fresh fruit, orange juice, and—oh, God, coffee, the smell of which made Fen want to weep.

She poured herself a cup, holding the blanket around her by keeping one arm pressed to her side. She took a sip—glorious, delicious perfection—before digging into the food, one wary eye on the guy at the door.

Okay, yeah, it was great. Would that every breakfast could be like this one.

But where the hell were her clothes?

Trying to be low-key about it, she picked up her coffee cup and took another gulp, letting her gaze travel around the room as if casually. Where was the phone? She could call Theresa. Let her know what was going on. Not that she knew herself, but she should at least tell her boss she was going to be late to work.

Her hand shook as she set the cup down, the sound as it rattled against the saucer unexpectedly loud.

No phone.

No phone, no clothes, no idea where she was, and a guard at the door who wouldn’t even look at her.

No way was this good.

She stood. “I need to call my employer,” she said, keeping her voice steady with an effort. “She’s expecting me. Where’s the phone?”

“Soon, miss,” he said, but his eyes never wavered in her direction and his body didn’t twitch.

Maybe that was okay. When all you were wearing was a blanket, awkwardly draped over your shoulders toga-style, maybe it wasn’t a bad thing if the mega-hunk keeping you prisoner didn’t look at you.

Fen tried again. “I’m sure she’s very worried. I’m never late to work. She might be calling the police already.”

That was true. Rain or shine, ice, snow, sticky humid summer heat, flu, cold or sprained ankle, Fen always made it to the store on time. No choice, really—if she didn’t work, she didn’t eat.

Paying the rent was always the priority. Making her dollars stretch to where she could live alone had been a triumph, but it didn’t leave room for extras. Losing today’s pay was going to suck.

“Soon, miss,” he repeated.

Fen wanted to snarl at him. Jerk was a robot, same words over and over again. But she wasn’t stupid. Antagonizing the guy keeping her prisoner was not a good idea. Instead, she stood and without comment went back into the bedroom.

She needed to escape.

First step, clothes. She’d thought when she woke up that she was in a luxury apartment, but the tray, the lack of a kitchen, the single door leading out—they all added up to hotel, which meant that on the other side of that door, people would help her.

She pulled open the closet door. Empty.

The problem with escaping—especially escaping naked—is that those people who would help her would call the cops. Anyone would.

She tried the bureau drawers. Just as empty.

Damn it.

They must have gotten this fancy suite just for her. One night could have paid her rent for a month or close to it. What a stupid waste.

She hitched the blanket back onto her shoulder.

She couldn’t escape into the Chicago winter wearing a blanket. She hadn’t hit that level of insanity. So she had to find assistance and every possible scenario in that direction ended with the police.

And if the police got involved, she had no way to get to Zach and convince him she was harmless. No way to get her life back the way she wanted it.

So no police.

Which meant no escape.

Which meant sitting and waiting and hoping.

By the time the door to the bedroom opened, Fen’s fear had turned to fury. She jumped to her feet, hot words burning her tongue, but as Theresa walked in, the words dissolved.

Oh, God, it was so nice to see her employer’s worried face, the kindly eyes and cushiony body. The sight pushed Fen over the edge. The stress, the fear, the uncertainty hit her in a wave of emotion. Horrified, she put a hand up to cover her face, hiding her eyes as she fought the urge to burst into tears.

“Are you all right, dear?” Theresa asked, hurrying across the room to her. She wavered for a moment, indecisive, and then wrapped her arms around Fen.

“Sorry, sorry,” Fen muttered into Theresa’s shoulder, throat closing around the sob that wanted to escape.

“You’re all right.” Theresa held her close, hugging her tight. She stroked Fen’s hair and back, long touches that started at her scalp. “It’s going to be okay. Everything’s going to be all right.”

The words should have sounded soothing but Theresa’s tone held too much tension to ease Fen’s mind. She pulled back, pushing the heel of her palm into one eye after another, her other hand clutching the blanket. She stepped away from Theresa. “I’m okay. What’s wrong?”

“We brought clothes,” Theresa said. She gestured to a bag she’d dropped by the door. “You get dressed. I’ll wait outside and we’ll talk.”

“All right.” Fen pushed the words out through stiff lips. Talk about what? What was there to talk about? And what was Theresa doing here?

She followed Theresa to the door and picked up the bag as Theresa closed the door behind her. Fen didn’t recognize the bag, but the clothes inside it were hers. With relief, she dropped the blanket and started tugging on her layers.

Underwear, then a grey tank-top, followed by her black striped tights, plus leggings to keep her warm, and a black thermal shirt to keep her warmer. Finally, her favorite dark-grey cardigan and a black skirt that skimmed the tops of her knees. She ran her hands through her hair, doing her best to neaten it, and ran her tongue along her teeth, before digging into the bag again.

There was nothing else in it.

No toothbrush, no hairbrush, no make-up. No deodorant or shampoo. No more clothes.

She straightened.

Theresa would have brought make-up. Or at least a toothbrush.

Which meant Amazing Voice Guy had been in her apartment. He’d gone through her stuff, sorted through her drawers, opened up her closet. She pressed a hand to her stomach, feeling a flutter of panic. That was so not okay.

Her space was hers.

Private.

She flushed. He’d picked out her underwear, one of her nicer pairs. Had he noticed how threadbare most of it was? And the clothes—had he seen the mismatched sizes, the safety pins, the tell-tale evidence that she did her shopping at Goodwill and the Salvation Army stores?

He’d brought her favorite sweater. She ran a hand down the sleeve. No label, but it was the softest sweater she owned and her nicest article of clothing. How had he known?

She could have left it out on her bed, though. Had she made her bed? Damn, had he been in her kitchen? Had he seen the mouse traps in her empty cupboards?

Or had Theresa? Had she just been in a rush, anxious about Fen’s condition, too distracted to think about the essentials?

Leaving the blanket crumpled on the floor, Fen walked into the other room, her feet slow. Theresa stood by the table with the breakfast tray, while Amazing Voice Guy spoke quietly to the guard in the hallway.

“What’s going on?” Fen asked Theresa.

“You’ve had quite an adventure, haven’t you, my dear?” Theresa reached for her. Fen didn’t resist as the older woman drew her close, wrapping one arm around her shoulders. “When you didn’t arrive on time, I worried, but I couldn’t have imagined the truth.”

“Tea will be served momentarily.” Amazing Voice Guy had come up behind them, moving so silently that Fen startled at the sound of his voice. God, he could probably read the weather report and it would sound sexy.

He gestured at the chair and comfortable couch beyond it. “Please, take a seat. We have much to discuss.”

Much to Discuss

Theresa let her arm fall from Fen’s shoulders and moved to sit on the couch, but Fen didn’t join her.

“What do we need to talk about?” she asked. “Thanks for picking up my clothes. Find me my shoes and we can be on our way.”

She caught the hint of disapproval at her rudeness in the slight furrow of Theresa’s forehead, but ignored it. She needed to get home. She had to talk to Zach.

Amazing Voice Guy sat down. He crossed his legs and brushed lightly at the knee of his pants, smoothing out the crease.

Gay, she realized. God, of course, she should have figured that out sooner. The guy at the door probably was, too. A hot guy who kept his eyes politely averted from a half-naked woman? It made so much sense.

Her shoulders relaxed as her tension eased. She hadn’t thought they were white slavers or kidnappers or anything… but yeah, that fear had been in the back of her head. Waking up in a strange place with strange men who wouldn’t talk was frightening, it just was.

Her smile felt almost natural, when she said, “Dude, I’ve got stuff to do. I ought to be at work.” She turned to her boss. “Who’s covering the shop, Theresa?”

“I closed it.” Theresa pressed her lips together, but her eyes held worry, not reproach.

“On a Friday? We’re going to miss the afternoon rush if we don’t get back there.”

Theresa glanced at Amazing Voice Guy as if asking him to help her out. He didn’t, so she said, her voice steady, “You can’t come back, sweetheart. I’m sorry.”

“Are you serious? You’re going to fire me? Because I got attacked? That’s… that’s… that’s…” Fen couldn’t find words as she stared at her boss.

Theresa held her hand out to Fen. “Come sit with me, dear. You know I wouldn’t fire you. You’ve been a wonderful assistant.”

“Past tense?” Fen’s voice wavered. She clenched her teeth, trying to arouse the righteous fury she knew she should feel.

“You are a wonderful assistant,” Theresa corrected herself. “You’re not being fired. But—” She glanced at Amazing Voice Guy again. “Mr. Delmar has suggested, and I agree, that you’re in danger.”

“Delmar? That’s your name?” Fen scowled at him. She couldn’t be angry at Theresa, but hell, Amazing Voice Guy would be a fine target for her feelings.

“Do you dislike it?” He sounded only mildly interested in her answer but his eyes sharpened.

“It sounds very… American.”

He set his cup back in its saucer. “My first name is Kaio. You must feel free to use it.”

Kye-oh. Fen turned the sound over in her mind. “Are you Hawaiian?” she guessed. “Eurasian?”

“At a later date, I should be delighted to discuss my background in detail with you. But I’m afraid right now is not the time.” He shot back his suit jacket sleeve and glanced at the watch on his wrist. “As I’ve told your employer, I am removing my brother to a safer place while the crime against him is investigated. If you should care to join us, we would be delighted to host you until your assailant and his employers are incarcerated.”

“I don’t need a safer place,” Fen said. “I’ll talk to Zach. I’ll get him to call that guy off. He will. The guy even said Zach didn’t know.”

“Your neighbor is gone,” Kaio said calmly. “His home has been emptied of all personal possessions.”