He's A Magic Man (The Children of Merlin) (16 page)

He swallowed. Okay, a deal was a deal. True and complete. “They’re a stipend from my father’s company.” True, but not complete. “My company, since he died.”

Her eyes went wary. Then she actually looked relieved. What was that about? “Okay, so why don’t you want them?”

He just knew it would get to the complicated stuff. Damn her.
Three
twos
, for God’s sake.
“Because he was an overbearing tyrant who pushed me into the company when I was seventeen, and thought he could force me to be like him.”

She nodded. “That’s why you joined the army, I’ll bet. It probably, how would you say it? ‘Frosted his ass.’ So you tried out for Delta Force, just to push his nose in it. I’ll bet it’s pretty hard to get accepted into that program. He no doubt hated that you were constantly engaged in dangerous missions because you were risking his dynastic aspirations. And you never wrote him. Maybe you wrote your mother.” She raised her eyebrows.

She was way too good at filling in the blanks. “No freebies. Deal.”

But the result of that hand was just the same. He watched her dubious expression and raised her up to three questions only to find that the girl had a full house, tens and queens, which beat two pair. He tossed his cards in. She was so inexperienced she didn’t actually know when to be confident and when to be cautious. He’d better start playing more conservatively. Even if all she had was luck, it could get bad. How long before she’d want to know about Alice?

She smiled at him and shuffled, which she seemed to do while thinking. “Only child?” she asked.

That was easy. He nodded. And just to show he was honorable, he’d give her the rest. “Well, kind of. My older brother died when he was twelve. I was eight.”

“Mother?”

“Same car accident.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry. That’s really hard. So you must have liked your stepmother, since I guessed correctly that you wrote to her while you were in the army?”

She knew she guessed correctly? Maybe he was the one who had a problem with a poker face. “That’s three,” he said, using the lilt of her voice that made it a question against her.

She realized she’d been had and frowned. “No wonder your father was so focused on you succeeding him.”

“My deal.”

She tossed the deck over. Then she grinned. “If you think that will make a difference in the outcome, by all means deal.”

He managed to get two questions off her with a spade flush. “So, who was the boyfriend at UCLA?”

She blushed with shame. That was hard to see. He wanted to know, but hurting her turned out to be painful. She took a breath. “Professor of Medieval Studies.”

He steeled himself to ask the next question. She had no qualms about prying into his private pain. She’d already proved that. So why should he? “Why didn’t it work out?”

She closed her eyes. “Because he was the campus Lothario and never had any intention of having more than a fling with me before he moved on to the next student.” She fell silent and he began to shuffle the cards. “Even Jane knew,” she said with disgust, and then seemed to lose all control. “And she’s a wonderful friend of course, but she’s really sheltered and shy, and even
she
knew, and it was me who turned out to be
naïve
.” This last was said with such despair in her voice he almost winced. She looked away.

“Happens to everybody,” he said roughly, not knowing how to comfort her.

“Not to me. I was always sure of who I was.” She looked up at him. “I bet it never happened to you.” She slumped a little in her chair. “I was a total fool.”

“You think it wasn’t foolish to join the army just to show my father I hated him?” He snorted. “I almost got killed so many times I lost count.”

She got a speculating look in those gray eyes. “But you weren’t. You must have been good at what you did.” She waved a dismissive hand. “And anyway guys with a strong personality have to break away from a domineering father. Either that or be broken by him.”

“Who says I wasn’t broken? I still can’t take the Goddamned checks from Redmond, just because it’s his company, even though he’s dead. That’s nothing if not stupid.” He ran his hands through his hair. It
was
stupid, wasn’t it? Not just stubborn, but self-destructive.
Like the drinking.
“Then there’s the fact that I’m an alcoholic. That’s real broken.”

*****

It was the first time he’d admitted what he was, and Drew knew it was a big deal. She saw it in his shocked expression. His problems made her own mourning over being made a fool of by a pathetic college professor who preyed on graduate students seem childish. She’d been relieved when she knew he was well off financially, just as she was. But that relief was gone now. She chewed her lips. They were both staring at the deck because they were too raw to look at each other. “He’s not the reason you drink,” she said finally.

“No.” He picked up the cards and started to deal. He wasn’t going to say anything about Alice. And really, why should he? She wondered how to bring it up, or whether she should go for how he got his scars. Both seemed so horrible, they were something she couldn’t ask him to talk about at all.

She knew she had him in the next hand. She drew the fourth ace when she replaced her two discards. She pursed her lips. They always went for that. He still didn’t get that she was playing on his certainty that she couldn’t play poker. He should have realized by now. She’d been sure she would only get a couple of hands out of the “I’m so transparent” ruse. Maybe he did know and didn’t care. He seemed determined to bid up the questions. She stopped the escalation by calling at four. Probably should have stopped it sooner. She didn’t want to ask any more questions.

His full house was queen high. But he hardly seemed surprised when she showed her aces. “I should have known.” He took a huge breath and blew it out. “Okay, shoot.” Like it was a firing squad, and not just some personal questions.

Well, she was going to give him a by. “What was your greatest adventure?” Best to get this onto a more cheerful note.

He didn’t hesitate. “The day I married Alice.”

Well, that didn’t work out so well.

The look on his face softened with the memory. He continued of his own accord. “I could hardly believe she wanted a big, rough guy like me. She was so soft. That was all an illusion, of course. She was stronger emotionally than I ever was. I met her on leave in Dubai.
I’d just been released by the Taliban in return for a boatload of their men
. I was in pretty bad shape.”

Well, she’d gotten both answers at once. Taliban. No wonder he had all those scars. The horror of being
tortured.…
She realized how bad it must have been for him to be tied up while he suffered with his detox. He’d probably had flashbacks. Drew was suddenly so ashamed of herself she didn’t know how to face him.

“Alice was
there
pitching some Arab prince for money for her charity,” he continued. “A girl. I thought somebody had a screw loose to send a girl to an Arab country on business.” He was looking out the window into the night. It had started to rain. The drops clattered on the tin roof of the cabin and the wind whipped the dim foliage outside. “But of course, no one could refuse Alice.” A smile touched his lips. “That prince ended up giving her twice what she asked. And she … she was good for me. Alice had a way of healing your soul. I had intended to re-
up  but
instead I chucked Delta Force and followed her back home like a puppy.” He tore his gaze away from the tossing fronds lashed with rain. “The wedding was… good. I joined her charity work and I was happy.”

Drew still felt bad, but this was what she wanted to know. “What did the charity do?”

He shook his head, smiling in memory. “We got lost kids back where they belonged. Turned out I could find them. Then I, and a couple of my ex-Delta buddies, would go in and get them. A little planning or a satisfying scuffle was usually involved. Then Alice would just ... I don’t know ... make them whole.” He turned his eyes up to her. “I mean emotionally. That was her psychic gift. She just talked to them and held them and then they were fine, no matter what had happened to them.” He shrugged. “Then we’d give them back to their families.”

It was all so clear. Alice was a Psychic Healer. He was a Finder. She had healed him psychically after his own ordeal, and then they used their gifts for others. “You were good together,” she said, keeping her voice level. True love. Drew wanted to cry.

“Yeah.”

“She sounds like a ... a really good person.”

“You always hear people talking about how good someone is. ‘He’s a saint,’ or ‘she’s an angel’—stuff like that. But she really was. A good person.” His eyes filled and he looked away. “Sorry to go on about the dead wife. Didn’t mean to be that kind of guy.”

“No. No, that’s all right. She was important to you.” She was his life. And she was dead. He’d done the unthinkable to save her a painful, lingering death. Drew could never compete with a saint. Her regret was almost like physical pain.

You already knew about Alice. And remember? It’s okay that he’s not for you. He might be a stepping-stone. Maybe he knows the man who’s really destined for you.

So, on to finding out how much he knew about his gift, and therefore how much she could admit about her family and who she was. “You know how you do it? I mean find things?”

Wariness crept into his expression.

“True and complete,” she reminded him.

He pressed his lips together
.
Then he shrugged. “I’m psychic.” He closed his eyes and shook his head. “I know it sounds crazy, but that’s the only possible explanation. I usually don’t have to explain. Whoever wants me to find something is so glad to get what they’re looking for, they don’t care how I did it.”

She sighed. He didn’t know about the magic in his DNA. And that meant she could never tell him about hers, and destiny, and true love, without sounding like a certified loon. But maybe she could use his definitions to talk about it. “So, you ever meet anyone else who’s psychic? I mean besides Alice.” She tried to make it sound casual.

It must have worked, because he shook his head. “Nah. Everyone I knew who claimed to be psychic was a fraud: a good observer who picked up on cues from the mark, or who faked talking to animals or something.”

“Maybe Alice had a brother?”

He shook his head. “Only child, like me. It was one of the things we had in common—being our parents’ only hope.”

Drew took the deck and set it to the side, feeling her heart hardening into some kind of rocky lump in her chest. It could never be him. And he didn’t know anyone else it could be.

Except, if her destined mate hadn’t met her yet, he wouldn’t have gotten his power. He wouldn’t seem magic. So how could she find him? But
her
powers had been raised when she hadn’t yet met this person.
They’d been raised by Dowser
.
If she had a power.
Maybe she was imagining it. Confused thoughts raced around her brain. How did this damned stuff
work
?

“You want another hand?” he asked. “I just gave you about five questions, so you owe me a chance to get even.” He examined her and his eyes narrowed. “You
migh
t
be a better player than you let on.”

“I told you. Brothers.” She managed a smile. Brothers who wanted to believe she’d be stupid enough to let her reaction to her cards show. “They started out letting me play because I had an allowance to lose.” She gave him a wry grin. “Then they wanted to get even.” Eventually they’d realized she was lying with her expression, so she’d let what she really saw in her hand show clearly on her face. They had still made wrong assumptions. Then they hadn’t known what to believe. Made them crazy. Cards tossed in the air. Threats. Very satisfying.

“I know the feeling.”

She shook her head. “You have a big day tomorrow and I have to get back to Miami.”

“Oh.” His face went still. “Yeah.”

And that would be it. Drew had gone from total certainty to complete uncertainty in the last four days. Nothing would ever be the same.

But
how
was it different? She believed Dowser had a power. Had he really raised a power in her or had she just been hallucinating at the birdbath? She hadn’t even tried to have another vision.

As Dowser made up the couch, she hurried over to her suitcase and got out her nightgown and robe, gathered up her makeup case, and made for the bathroom. Water. She’d had her first vision in water.

She shut the door, starting almost to shake. What if she couldn’t do it again? And why hadn’t she tried before now?
Because she’d been involved with Dowser and his suffering?
Or because she didn’t want to know it was all her imagination? Well, there was no avoiding it now. She had to know
something
for sure.

She ran water in the sink with shaking hands. When it was nearly full she closed the tap and stood there, staring down into it. The stopper was rusted. The water shimmered, but there really wasn’t a reflection. She heard Dowser, or Michelangelo, or whatever his name was, moving around out in the other room.