Hot Magic (14 page)

“Linda is not adequate protection against Marguerite, and she is one of our strongest Guardians.”

“You’re saying there isn’t a way to keep me safe from Marguerite?”

“There is a way. You’re a woman of great power. You must be trained to protect yourself.”

“Right. I’ve been meaning to talk to you about my powers. When I try to use them they don’t work. Then they kick in without me even realizing it.”

“I’m arranging the best teacher I know for you.”
 

“Not you?”

“Definitely not me.”

She ignored her disappointment. “How long does this training take? I have a full-time job.” If she didn’t screw up the study so they couldn’t run it.

His expression darkened. “Why are you concerned about your job? You don’t want to be away from the colleague who took you for coffee?”

“No. I don’t want to be away from the paycheck that gives me money.” She suppressed a small smile.
 

“Take a vacation,” he ordered.

“Can’t I learn at night, after work?”

“You’re a Sun Dancer. You work best in daylight.”

Actually, time of day really didn’t seem to matter, but she did need to learn about her power. “I’ll see if I can get some time off. Will the teacher pop in and out for lessons or will I go someplace like Hogwarts and have classes like Harry Potter?”

He ignored the last part of her question. “The teacher will live with me, as will you.”

“You mean, next door?”

“I mean London.”

“No way. I’m not taking off to London and leaving my daughter here when Shadow Walkers are flitting around, asking her out.”

“She can come.” He gritted the words out between his teeth.

“She won’t. She’ll lose a semester at school. We can’t afford that.”

“I’ll pay for it.”

“No. We stay here.” She folded her arms and stared him down. Her stubborn determination not to go to London had more to do with needing the familiarity of her home base than money.
 

His face stilled. “You have said “no” one time too many, Dancer.”

The air pressure seemed to change and Julie swallowed. This was the Balance. The man who made her indomitable mother tremble. Nervousness trickled down Julie’s spine. She looked into the flat, amber eyes and tried to find the Harry she knew. “Please, Harry? Tash is already dealing with a lot of changes.
I’m
dealing with a lot of changes. I’d really appreciate it if the teacher could come here.”

For a moment his face didn’t change. Julie cleared her throat and tried a small smile. It wobbled at the edges.

His face softened. Just a fraction. “Perhaps it will work. The danger to you will be over when Marguerite fails to place the second tie. I’ll commute to London until then.”

Relief brightened her smile. “Thank you.”

“Linda and Bas will protect you while I’m away.” He seemed to be trying to convince himself.
 

“Bas? The pirate guy from the hotel room?”

“I’m surprised you remember.”

“Even when one is about to explode, he’s pretty hard to forget.”

Harry’s jaw clenched. The man was going to have dental problems if he didn’t loosen up. Still, his reaction sent a thrill through her. She was only human. Maybe.
 

“Go to work tomorrow,” he instructed. “I’ll be here by the time Marguerite rises. She won’t be in a very good mood, and she may come for you.”

“Marguerite’s in a very bad mood.” Marguerite’s soft voice drifted out of the darkness. “You really didn’t think I’d have to wait until tomorrow evening to get my power back, did you?”
 

Chapter Eight

M
arguerite felt like a piece of overcooked pasta as she stepped out of the cedar trees bordering the Dancer’s yard. True dark hadn’t fallen, and the deepening shades of gray soothed her.

She needed soothing.

Her system hadn’t recovered yet from the lunchtime fiasco when Harrison pulled the plug on her power. She’d fainted, but even that hadn’t brought peace. The visions of Grand-mère Belle had followed her even into the dark void of her unconscious. She’d awakened, weak and nauseated, filled with renewed resolve to complete the melding spell and end this madness by freeing her grandmother.
 

One insignificant Dancer wouldn’t get in her way.

She considered the couple on the deck, reassured by the golden presence of Harrison still tucked in her brain. Either the Dancer wasn’t powerful enough to break the tie, or Harrison hadn’t had sex with her yet.
 

“Marguerite.” Harrison’s deep voice flowed over her. He stepped closer to the Dancer. “How have you regained your power so quickly?”

Marguerite ignored the question. “I could bring you up on charges for what you did, Balance.”

“The Council will be happy to see you,” he said, not at all concerned.

“You think to use this Dancer to break my hold.” She confronted him directly. She didn’t have the strength for small talk.

“No.” He spoke softly.
 

“She hasn’t the power?” Marguerite took a good look at the Dancer. The woman didn’t look powerful. Brown, curly hair framed a slender face filled with large, brown eyes, a small nose and a mouth that was just a shade too wide. Attractive, not beautiful, definitely past her youth. Not someone she would normally give more than a passing glance. And yet, tension arced between this woman and Harrison. Too much tension. Perhaps they hadn’t mated yet.

“She won’t break the curse.” Harrison said.

“Won’t or can’t?” If he hadn’t yet slept with the Dancer, then Marguerite would ensure he didn’t. She needed to know for sure. “I’ve been hearing rumors lately, Le Bilan. You’re thirty-five. You have no children. That’s unusual for a Penumbra. I wonder—is there a problem? Some physical difficulty?” She smiled, her gaze running down the length of his body.

The Dancer spoke before Harrison could. She slid an arm around his waist. “Harrison has absolutely no problems in that department.”

Marguerite gasped. She took a step closer, trying to gauge Harrison’s reaction to the touch. He looked down at the Dancer, his expression unreadable. But he didn’t step away. Even a woman he’d been intimate with wouldn’t be allowed such a touch. Marguerite’s brow furrowed. Damn the Balance for draining her. She couldn’t think clearly.

The Dancer’s chin jutted out. “Why don’t you just get out of Harry’s head? You’re causing us all a lot of trouble.”

Had the draining affected her hearing? Surely this woman hadn’t called Le Bilan ‘Harry.’”
 

Harrison stood oddly still, completely motionless. Marguerite braced for lightning, fire, total deforestation of the yard.

Instead, a small smile flicked across his face, and he put his hand over the one resting at his waist. “I can handle Marguerite, sweetheart.”

Harry. Sweetheart. Marguerite had been wrong with her first conclusion. There could only be one explanation for this behavior. They were lovers.

“You’ve had sex and the Dancer’s power didn’t sever the curse.” Relief and jubilation bubbled through Marguerite. The Dancer wasn’t a threat. She could go. Rest. She reached out with her senses to touch the earth’s energy, gathering herself.

“Marguerite.” She paused at Harrison’s voice, once again the cold, precise tones she recognized. “Why? Cursing the Balance is suicide. I won’t let you succeed.”

“You have no choice.” Marguerite forced herself to meet his gaze, wishing for a different fate. She inhaled the sweet night air and swayed on her feet, overcome with tiredness.
 

“Where is your power coming from, Moonflower?”
 

Harrison’s translation of her name made her unaccountably teary-eyed. She damned her weakness, her memories. Nobody called her Moonflower anymore. Not for a long time.

“You are not wielding earth energy alone. Your power has another source.”
 

He took a step toward her, and the part of him that was in her mind vibrated, stretched. She put a trembling hand to her head.
 

He stopped, his golden eyes seeming to sear through her. His expression became stone, hard and austere. “You’ve turned to the dark ones, Marguerite. What have you done?”

His gaze burned like cleansing fire, and for a moment she forgot Grand-mère Belle and the horror of the visions. Forgot the mentor who had taught her to strengthen her power, to realize her full potential.

Before she could move toward him and unravel all she’d worked so hard to accomplish, she lifted her hand and used the last of her energy to escape.

“W
ell, that was interesting.” Julie took a big step back from Harrison and tried to pull her hand from his. Unfortunately, his wouldn’t let go. Setting her lips, she yanked hard and then shoved her warm, tingling hand behind her back.

“Thank you for defending my masculinity,” he stated gravely.

“She used a common female tactic. Make a slur about a guy’s sexual prowess and he’ll get angry. Angry men have loose lips.”

“I have no concerns about my sexual prowess and I don’t get angry, so the tactic wouldn’t have worked.”

Based on her limited experience with him, Julie had no concerns about his sexual prowess either. His calm assurance about his lack of temper was another matter. “You don’t get angry? Then who flashed a few bolts of lightning around the other day when I had coffee with a coworker? Thor?”

He raised an eyebrow. “I was displeased, not angry.”

“And the difference is?”

“The difference is a matter of degree,” he stated. “I don’t get angry.”
 

“Potayto, potawto.” She shrugged. “At any rate, it would seem to be in my best interest to let Marguerite think we’ve slept together.”
 

“I agree. She won’t try to neutralize you if she believes you’re not a threat.”

“Does that mean I’m out of danger now? I can kiss you goodbye and go back to my previously scheduled life?” Okay. Where had the ‘kiss you goodbye’ part come from? She didn’t intend to go anywhere near his fascinating lips. His fascinating, young lips. “Are you really only thirty-five?”
 

He frowned at the abrupt change in subject. “What does my age matter?”

She had a sudden thought. “Is that in Penumbrae years, or human years?”

He shook his head as if to clear it. “I’m thirty-five. Penumbrae years are the same as human years. We live on the same planet, Julie.”

“Well dogs live on the same planet, but somehow their years are different.”

He just stared at her. She rubbed her hands against her arms. “Okay. I’m not thinking clearly.” Thank God he’d never seen her naked. A young man wouldn’t understand cellulite and stretch marks. “I just didn’t know you were so young.”
 

“I’ve never been young,” Harrison said, his voice flat.

“Penumbrae are born fully grown?” Oh. My. God. She put a protective hand over her pelvis.

“Julie, I’m speaking metaphorically.” He didn’t smile, but she could tell he wanted to. “We’re born the same way humans, Walkers and Dancers are. I meant that I’ve been trained and schooled my whole life. There was little time to be young.”
 

Her heart went out to the boy he’d been, but she was careful not to show him sympathy. “Marguerite said most Penumbrae have children by your age.”

“That’s true.”

“Don’t you want kids?”

Harrison looked out into the yard as if searching for something. “I’m expected to have children.”

 
She noticed the tension in his body, wondered at it. “Your child wouldn’t have to have the same childhood that you did.”
 

He sent her a sharp glance. “What do you know of the Penumbrae and our ways?”

“Only the little you’ve told me. I do know about parenting, though.”

It was his turn to abruptly change the subject. “Your teacher will be here tomorrow afternoon.”

“Can’t we postpone training now that the Marguerite threat level is lowered? Maybe I can free up some time in November.”

“No. The training is arranged.”

“But my time off isn’t arranged.”
 

His look ended the argument. “Arrange it.”

“W
hat’s this about you taking some family leave time?” Joe walked into her office and handed her one of the two cups of coffee he was holding.

Julie took the cup gratefully. “You’re my hero.” She lifted the plastic lid and blew on the hot liquid. “My life has suddenly become very complicated, Joe. Don’t ask questions.”
 

“What about the interviewers you’re supposed to re-train on Monday?” He set his cup on her desk, concern deepening the blue of his eyes.

“I’m not dropping off the face of the earth.” Hopefully. “I’ll come in to meet with them.”

“Your timing sucks on this, Julie. What’s going on? Is something wrong with Tasha?”