The Wizard of Seattle (41 page)

“The other males like living atop the mountains,” Varian murmured. “I doubt they’ll be easily persuaded to change at this late date.” Her eyes, he thought, were lovely. Like the one still-pure lake left in Atlantia, blue and clear and seemingly bottomless.

“I’m sure you could persuade them to at least listen.”

“Perhaps—though I’d probably be more successful at using force rather than persuasion.” Had he thought her skin rough? Odd. She had the complexion of a much younger woman, he decided, translucent and silky in appearance. Just a touch of color, of inner heat …

Antonia smiled. “However you … command them … the means can be justified if our goal is reached.”

“Assuming we agree on the goal.” Her mouth was remarkably erotic, Varian thought, watching it move as
she spoke and listening to the words with only minimal attention. The lips were red and full and moist, conjuring images in his mind of how they would feel and look touching various parts of his body, trailing across his skin …

“We can discuss what we mean to do,” Antonia said in a pleasant tone, and smoothly went on doing just that. Advancing suggestions on how they might repair the damages to their society, by either bringing the males down into the valley or allowing the females into the mountains. The latter made more sense as their removal from the valley might well cause the Curtain to disperse once and for all. Putting forth her ideas for new laws, for standards of behavior, for ways in which the men and women of power might work together.

As the sun sank lower and lower in the western sky, Antonia talked softly, explaining her ideas not because she expected him to approve of her plans but simply to fill the silence as she slowly exposed her potent carnality to him in the urgent bid to seduce him. She intended to rule him completely, to chain him and dominate him with silken bonds of lust, and to that end she worked subtly to fill him with a burning desire for her.

Only for her.

Her one experience lay in the brief encounter with Merlin, and from that Antonia had drawn one dangerously false conclusion. She assumed that in order to dominate a male sexually, it was necessary to light the fires of lust as well as provide a steady supply of fuel to maintain the blaze. Because she had found Merlin so cool to her, and because he had been able to resist her, her manipulation of Varian was as intense as it was subtle. She poured everything she had into the attempt, never realizing that all males were different, and that, for this particular male, filling his mind with erotic thoughts and his body with carnal sensations was like pouring oil on an inferno. The result—a conflagration she would have no hope of controlling once it burst its bounds.

Varian responded with nods, grunts, and other signs of agreement and/or interest—and he never took his
eyes off her. Antonia was exciting herself as well as him, reveling in her sense of dominance as much as she was anticipating the experience of joining with him. Her body was hot and throbbing, there was an unfamiliar wetness between her thighs, and her nipples had tightened so much in a way that was painful. Exquisitely painful. Even her voice had become husky, the sound of it far more important than the words it spoke.

She didn’t know how much time had passed, but the light pouring in the front door had faded quite a bit when she finally allowed her voice to trail into silence. His eyes glittered, his face was sharp and almost hollow-cheeked as if with mortal hunger, and his slow breathing was audible. He was very still.

Enjoying the building of lust, Antonia decided to draw it out even more. She rose languidly from her chair and went to the window. The sun was down, and the first wisps of the Curtain were swirling over the valley.

Sharp disappointment lanced through her. She’d had no intention of remaining here after dark. Once the Curtain fell, she’d be unable to use her powers and he would no longer be under the spell she had so carefully created. She wouldn’t be able to control him, to completely dominate him. He might hurt her, and that was a risk she was unwilling to take. Much better to leave now, even if she had to begin all over again tomorrow …

“I must go,” she murmured. “Perhaps we can meet again tomorrow and continue?”

An odd, hoarse sound came from Varian, and even as she half turned from the window, he was striding across the room toward her. Antonia instinctively lifted a hand, but he was already there, his much larger hands grasping her wrists painfully, and his voice was like a growl.

“Go? What are you talking about, whore? You aren’t going anywhere—except to my bed if we make it that far …”

Shocked and incensed by the blunt words and rough handling, Antonia found herself hauled against his hard
body as he tried to kiss her. His mouth—disgustingly wet—slid over her cheek and sharp teeth nipped at her bottom lip before she could jerk her head to one side.

“Stop that! Let go of me!”

“You want it, whore, you know you do. You’ve been licking your lips for the last hour,” he muttered, trying to hold the back of her head to keep her still.

Neither of them noticed the fine sparks that showered to the floor all around them, signs of building energy escaping its bounds.

Antonia gasped when one of his hands closed over her breast and squeezed roughly, and she struggled to get one hand free to slap him. The blow held her normal physical strength as well as other energy, and more sparks flew.

“No!” She hit him again, this time with pure energy, and though his body flinched his eyes burned hot with intent.

“A whore in my bed, that’s what I want,” Varian told her with a harsh laugh. “Spread her legs and ride her, haughty bitch. Insolent whore.” He was yanking at her robe, trying to pull the skirt up while attempting to get a knee between her legs. “I’ll have you—”

She hit him with another bolt of energy and instantly, fiercely, he returned the blow even as he was rubbing himself against her. Antonia staggered, but a snarl, almost a howl, of frustration, rage, and defeat erupted from her mouth. He was utterly, completely out of her control, mad with lust, and she knew she had lost her gamble.

He was bent on taking what she had dangled before him, by force if necessary and no matter how much both of them suffered for it. He would never be swayed by reason, never be turned back by anything she could do or say. Her only choice was to fight him, even though she knew with a hollow certainty how it would end …

“I’ll have you,” he repeated thickly, holding her buttocks to grind himself harder against her.

“No!”
she shrieked, loosing bolts of her power and not flinching when she felt the heat of them herself.
The jolts pushed him back a bit, but he still had hold of her and his eyes were molten now, blind and inhuman.

“You’re mine!” he roared, his power beginning to form an aura that was hot white and shot with streaks of pure black—energy so intense it emitted no light at all.

Antonia shrieked again, this time in pain as well as fury, and her hands were grasping now, clawing at his clothing, raking across skin.

“Never,” she panted, her eyes going unfocused as she reached for the farthest limits of her powers …

And Varian released another bestial sound, his hands lifting to her throat even as his mouth crushed hers …

As a huge full moon rose between two mountain peaks and beamed down on the valley, the Curtain was abruptly disturbed by wild streams of energy lancing upward from the Old City. With a sound like thunder, the Curtain rolled and snapped, and the earth heaved and groaned with a new violence
.

Shrieks and a roar of rage erupted from the Old City, where only the stoic night watched as two figures struggled frenziedly in a lighted window while jagged bolts of raw power emanated from them
.

Lashed by the effects of a titanic battle, Atlantis broke under the strain
.

S
erena had forgotten the unnerving sounds and sensations of time travel. Like stepping into total darkness with no idea if she would find solid ground beneath her feet or only miles of air … There was a whistling like wind rushing by, yet no sensation of its passing, and colors she couldn’t see and yet sensed were exploding all around her like starbursts. Something yanked at her as powerfully as gravity, but she was weightless, carried along on a raging tide of space and time. What she knew of reality was warped, shaped, and molded into obedience by the skilled and mighty hand of a Master Wizard.

It seemed to last forever, thousands of years … or maybe it was only a few seconds. Then, with jarring abruptness, her foot touched something hard and the silence was almost deafening and there was light.

She blinked away the retinal shock of passing from total darkness into the normal illumination of daylight and lamps, and looked around her at the familiar outlines of Merlin’s study. And it wasn’t until her breath flooded out in a shaky sigh that she realized how afraid she’d been.

“Serena? Are you all right?” His grasp on her hand tightened.

“Fine. I think. We’re back, aren’t we? We’re really back?”

“Yes, we’re back. Did you expect the gate to fail?”

“I don’t know.” Then she shook her head. “No, of course I didn’t. You built the gate, and I trusted it to work. It’s just that …”

Quietly, Merlin said, “You weren’t sure what we’d find here.”

“No,” she confessed. She glanced behind them to find that the gate had vanished; designed for a single trip, its job was done. And she didn’t have to touch the base of her throat or look at Merlin’s hand to know that the marks had vanished, left in the past where they had belonged.

She looked down at herself a bit warily and then at him, finding them dressed as they had been when they had left the present for the past. Jeans and sweaters. So … normal. So modern.

Merlin sent the box containing his staff back to its accustomed place on one of the shelves. Not letting go of Serena’s hand, he waited for her to reacquaint herself with their present.

“It looks the same,” she murmured, gazing around them. There was the handsome but sparse furniture of the room: a few sturdy chairs and small tables, the desk, a bookstand near the window holding an open, very large, leather-bound manual detailing the abilities of wizards—written entirely in a cryptic language that resembled Latin but wasn’t. There were the other heavy dark volumes and neat scrolls on the shelves, a number of them open on his big desk. “Just the same.”

“Of course. We’ve only been gone a few minutes.”

Intellectually, Serena knew that, but physically and emotionally she was just as certain that nearly a month had passed. She shook her head. “I guess … I expected us to find some kind of visible consequences of the trip here when we came through the gate. I mean, we travelled back in
time
. Way back. Shouldn’t our return be greeted by—by something?”

“Like what?” Merlin was amused.

“Bells and whistles. Fireworks. A siren or two. The wizard police charging in ready to punish us for travelling in time without the proper permission. A layer of dust on the furniture.
Something.”

Merlin looked around them at the peaceful study. “No, I don’t think so. Like so many things of consequence, our trip is going to pass unheralded by everyone except us.”

Serena bit her bottom lip as she gazed up at him. “Well … did we do it? Did we change the present for us?”

He answered quietly. “I don’t know. I wouldn’t expect to see anything changed here in the house—or here in Seattle—whether or not we were successful, since only the society of wizards is likely to be different if we were. To help wizards avoid unnecessary conflict with one another, we live scattered over the globe and gather together as infrequently as possible. When we left, you and I were the only wizards in the Northwest, and that may not have changed.”

Serena was a little surprised. She had known they were the only wizards in Seattle, but she hadn’t really thought about why that was so. “The decision to live apart from each other—did that come about after Atlantis?”

“Yes, I think so. And even if we
were
successful in changing what went wrong, Atlantis was still destroyed, and given the negative influence of the wizards there, it was undoubtedly taken as a grave warning by the other wizards of the time. It would have been prudent to avoid having too many beings of power together in one place; the society of wizards is still likely to be a scattered one no matter what else changed.”

“Then … how do we find out if we were successful?”

“We ask,” Merlin replied simply. “I can call my father. If we failed, and women are still forbidden to be trained as wizards, I’ll know soon enough. He’ll want to know how the procedure is going”

“The procedure … to render me powerless?”

“Yes.”

There was no phone in Merlin’s study; Serena glanced toward the door and thought about the one out in the foyer. Such a simple thing, to make a phone call. Such a simple thing to measure success … or failure.

“Serena?”

“I’m not so sure I want to know just yet.” With effort, she managed to smile up at him.