Magic or Madness (22 page)

Jay-Tee had a sudden, clear image of her parents together, flowers floating in the air, teaching her about magic, about how to protect herself. But her mother had died before Jay-Tee was old enough to talk. She touched the leather bracelet on her wrist.

“There are very few families like yours, Reason. I come from another. You have to remember that it’s genetic. Like being tall. It’s not something you can choose. It’s in our genes. More women than men express it. Like left-handedness in men. But much, much rarer.” He took another sip. “And yes, it does have to do with math.”

Jay-Tee smiled, wanting to say to Reason,
See? Math, not
maths.

“Many of us are as gifted with numbers as we are with magic.”

Jay-Tee snorted. “Not
all
of us.”

“No, not all. It’s a particularly strong talent in your family, Reason. Other magic users have other talents. Magic comes from people. It’s generated by people. It’s stronger and more plentiful in cities than in small towns.”

“Or out in the bush,” Reason said, more thinking out loud than asking a question.

He nodded. “That’s why you were raised in the country. Much harder to find you there.”

“And much easier to be found here? In a city? Especially one this big?” She glanced out the window at Times Square.

He nodded again.

“So she can find me here?” There was fear in her voice.

“But there are magics that help with hiding. I’ve been using them. And while you’re with Jay-Tee, her magic shields yours. It’s your magic that Esmeralda is tracking.”

“She’s tracking me?” Reason’s eyes were wide. Jay-Tee couldn’t believe she hadn’t thought of that before.

“Of course.”

“And—”

He held up his hand. “I believe that was more than enough payment, Reason, for such a paltry amount. Jay-Tee will most likely tell you more,” he finished, the acid finally evident in his voice.

The limousine ride back from
the restaurant was quiet and tense. No champagne, no bubbles, and no stupid toasts. Reason wasn’t in the dark anymore. Jay-Tee was still unsure what to make of it. He hadn’t given her any warning before his little performance tonight. She’d had no idea he was going to be
honest.

But what had he told Reason that didn’t help
him
more than her? Jay-Tee could fix that. She could think of some things he wouldn’t want Reason to know.

But then she sighed. He’d know. He’d question her, and he’d know and make everything worse for her again. There had to be a way to warn Reason
and
keep him from hurting her because of it. Jay-Tee could let herself get angry, like Reason almost had at dinner. Let it explode in his face. Jay-Tee doubted she had more than five years left anyway. Why not just take him out now?

She glanced across at him and then at Reason sitting beside her, staring out the window, not saying anything. She could see no resemblance between them. Was it true? Was he really her grandfather?

He had the driver let them out in front of their building. “I’ll see you both in a few days,” he said. Neither of them responded. Jay-Tee wished a few meant many or, even better, never.

“I can’t sit still in the apartment,” Reason told her in the elevator. “I feel like I’m going to scream.” Her skin was like parchment, making her black eye intense even under the makeup. She looked worse than when she’d first come through the door almost frozen to death.

“We’ll go somewhere you can scream as much as you want. Out dancing. Remember? I promised. We’ll just change into better clothes. Get rid of the wobble shoes.” Reason didn’t smile.

Neither of them said much getting changed, going out to the street. Jay-Tee wondered whether she should apologize but didn’t know how. And anyway, it wasn’t her fault. He would have gotten to Reason without her. But, Jay-Tee reminded herself, she’d helped. A lot.

She hailed a cab and they both piled in. Jay-Tee gave him the address and Reason stared out the window, her hood pulled over her head.

“How do you feel?” Jay-Tee asked her.

“Not exactly ace.”

Under any other circumstances Jay-Tee would’ve teased her about the weird words she used. Not right now.

“You feel tired?”

“Yeah. Like he took energy, not magic.”

“They’re connected,” Jay-Tee said. “But we’ll get it back for you. He didn’t take much. Magic flows in as well as out.”

Reason looked at Jay-Tee with an expression that made her wonder if she hated her now.

The driver had the heating cranked up to the max. He was sweating like a pig. The taxi stank of him and a burning smell coming from the heater. Summer was a lot better: You could walk everywhere and forget about taxis.

They got out in the meatpacking district. The cobblestones were slick with ice. “Careful,” Jay-Tee warned Reason, holding her gloved hand and pulling her along to the entrance to Inferno. Reason almost fell twice. She had absolutely no idea how to walk on ice and it wasn’t exactly a good moment to start teaching her.

Jay-Tee wrenched the door open, still dragging Reason. The walls were shaking with the beat, the heavy bass pounding up through her feet. Jay-Tee smiled at Peter, the bouncer.

“Hey, Jay-Tee,” he said. “Going to shake the place down?”

“Depends on how you mean.”

Peter laughed. “Got your voodoo all tuned up? I told you I’m not losing my job ’cause of you.”

Jay-Tee rolled her eyes. “Come on, Peter, you know you’re just about the only person it
doesn’t
work on.”

Peter snorted. “You be careful with that one,” he told Reason. “She’s trouble.”

They both walked by, shedding their coats, jackets, scarves, gloves, hats, sweaters, burying the coat-check girl under them. She gave Jay-Tee the ticket with a glazed smile. They were down to jeans and T-shirts. It wasn’t warm yet, but it would be.

Through the next door and in the club proper, a blast of heat and music to go with the beat hit them. Jay-Tee started dancing. Dragged Reason behind her along the path she could feel between bodies, because Jay-Tee knew crowds, knew when they’d move, when they’d stay still, when they’d sway. This crowd was dancing, bobbing in and out, up and down, forming lots of little eddies, like a river. She danced Reason along it, out into the thick of the dance floor, which was really the whole club. Even the bartenders were half dancing. Hundreds of bodies all around them. The walls slick with sweat.

Jay-Tee closed her eyes and let herself unravel, falling into the dance maelstrom. A split second before she fell all the way, she slid her eyes over Reason. She was there already, little Reason, as lost as Jay-Tee was about to be. Jay-Tee smiled. This was her real magic. This was what she loved best.

Jay-Tee came back with two large bottles of water, handed one of them to Reason, grinning.

“Bet you never thought you were going to be hot again! Dripping with sweat,” Jay-Tee said into Reason’s ear.

Reason returned the grin. “Nup. You were right. My energy’s back. Does that mean the magic is too?”

Jay-Tee started to nod and then stopped. “I don’t really know. Not exactly. I do know that when I dance in a crowd, I feel it flow into me. It’s created by all these people. I can connect to it and end up bigger than I am. You felt that too, right?” Jay-Tee had never talked about this with anyone before. The words felt strange coming out of her mouth.

“Yeah.” They leaned over the railing of the balcony, staring at the crowd surging below them. Jay-Tee couldn’t wait to fall back into it. From up here it looked like the ocean in a storm, everything in motion, cresting waves of bodies turning and twisting in the tempest. The walls were shaking.

Reason unscrewed the lid of her bottle and took a large swig. “Did you actually pay for these? Or for us to get in?”

Jay-Tee laughed.

“You never pay for anything, do you? Just wave your hand and they see money.”

“Doesn’t work on everyone. Pete, you know, the bouncer up front?”

Reason nodded.

“He just lets me in ’cause he likes me. I tried it on him and he burst out laughing.” Jay-Tee shook her head at the memory.

“Is it real? The money, I mean.”

“Yeah, it becomes real.”

“How?”

“My magic’s got to do with the connections between people.” Jay-Tee had never explained it to anyone before. Wasn’t exactly sure how to. “That’s what a crowd is—not just a bunch of people together, but the connections between them. And I use that, the energy of it; I pull the money out of that.”

Reason nodded, but Jay-Tee wasn’t really sure she understood.

“Is that how my magic works?”

“Yours is more bound up in numbers than people.”

“What can I do with it?”

Jay-Tee shrugged. “I don’t know. You should know. I mean . . .” She paused. “It’s something you’ll figure out. Everyone’s magic is different.”

Reason considered this. “Blake’s credit card,” she said finally. “Was that real?”

“Oh, sure,
he’s
rich. He always uses real money.” Her voice changed to his precise, measured tones: “He would never expend magic on anything so
trivial.
” She returned to her normal voice. “He’s all about hoarding his.”

“And taking other people’s?”

“Yeah, that’s the truth. Let’s dive back in. Get some more of our own.”

Reason nodded. “We could run away, you know, from him.” They were at the top of the ladder from the balcony, about to climb back down to the dance floor.

“Where would we go?” Jay-Tee asked, trying to keep the hope out of her voice.

“Australia. Through the door.” Reason didn’t quite know how they’d manage that without the key. “I know where to hide back home. Out bush. We’d be safe.”

“Your grandmother caught you before.”

“Only ’cause Sarafina went nuts. If it was just you and me, we’d be fine.”

“Dance now,” Jay-Tee said, feeling the pulse calling her, imagining a life out in the wilds of Australia: kangaroos and crocodiles. She wondered if kangaroos danced. “Think about escaping later.”

They climbed down the ladder and slid back into the crowd, twisting and shaking through eddies and rivulets of magic and energy and people.

Tom felt self-conscious talking
to Mere on the mobile in the middle of the restaurant. He kept his voice low, even though the reception wasn’t great.

“She’s been here,” he said again, slightly louder. “Yes.” He gave Mere the address. “See you soon. Bye.”

Tom was cold, tired, and hungry. For the last two hours he’d wandered around the surrounding blocks, going into restaurants and shops, touching things, sitting down at as many of the tables as he could, and getting lots of strange looks for failing to buy or order anything. It had been cold, but now it was cold and dark. Not a trace of Reason anywhere except here, back at this exact table again. Faint, but here.

A tall blond waitress with a gloomy expression came over and dumped a large glass of ice water on the table, handing him an oversized menu. Some of the water sloshed onto the table.

Tom picked up the menu and was startled by the strong feeling of Reason. He almost dropped it. She’d held this very menu. She
was
alive. Tom hadn’t realised that some part of him believed his own visions of her frozen to death in the snow. Apparently Mere’s reassurances hadn’t been enough.

“You want coffee?” the waitress asked in a tone of complete uninterest. She had an accent he didn’t recognise. Definitely not American. German, maybe? Tom immediately abandoned his plans of playing detective and asking her if she’d seen Reason. Not only did the waitress not care about his consumption of coffee, she had the air of someone for whom life itself meant nothing. Tom decided she must be the saddest waitress in the world.

“No, thank you. Just bacon and eggs.” A man at the next table was sipping at his coffee, glancing at Tom over his newspaper. He was wearing a pinstripe suit, but the stripes were thin bands of purple over charcoal, and the lapels were just a tad wider than usual. Tom couldn’t help admiring the tie, purple with tiny gold flecks, which would’ve been disastrous with any other suit. He couldn’t be sure without touching, but the suit looked to be a very fine wool. Merino, maybe.