Damsel Under Stress (33 page)

Isabel was out when I got there, but Rod was at his desk. “Can I talk to you?” I asked.

“Sure,” he said, gesturing me to a chair. “How are you feeling?”

“I have a splitting headache, but other than that I’m okay. I just wanted to ask you, what did I do at your party? For real. Don’t exaggerate, and don’t try to spare me. I need the truth.”

“Are you sure about that?”

The unease on his face made me think twice, but I said, “You don’t have to give me gory details. A big-picture overview will do.”

“Soon after midnight, it was like you became another person. You were very, um, flirtatious. You were loud, and you said some mean things.”

I groaned and sank back into the chair. “So, it’s true. Gemma and Marcia told me, but I thought they were putting me on, since I never act like that. I kept waiting for them to say ‘gotcha.’ But they didn’t.”

“Your immunity was still down during the party, wasn’t it?” I nodded. “It’s possible you were under a spell. Someone other than your roommates may have been playing a prank on you.”

“You think that’s it?”

“I know it is. You’re not mean. You’d never act that way if you were in control of yourself.” He gave me a warm smile and added, “Don’t worry, Owen knows that, too. He’ll brood and sulk for a while, but he’ll get over it. In fact, I bet he’s researching possibilities right now.”

When he smiled that way, he really looked nice—even nicer now that he was doing something with his hair and was taking care of his skin. I realized then that his real face and his illusion weren’t all that different. His illusion just looked like someone had Photoshopped his real face to remove his worst flaws and make everything look just a little bit better.

With a deep sigh, I stood up. “I have a killer headache, and I’m feeling utterly humiliated, so I’m going to go home early. Would you mind telling anyone who needs to know? About the headache, I mean. Not about the humiliation, though I suppose that goes without saying. I want to make sure this has all worn off before I face the office again.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it.”

I gave him a quick hug before I left. “You’re a real pal, you know? You might even be good enough for Marcia.”

“I’m glad you approve, because I was going to ask her out anyway,” he said with a pat on my back.

Owen was in his office when I went back to the lab for my purse and coat, so I didn’t try talking to him. That could wait until I felt a bit better. I left the building and trudged across the park by City Hall to get to the subway station, my head feeling heavier with each step. When a train arrived, I boarded and managed to get a seat. The woman sitting across from me wore what had to have been the ugliest shoes ever. Although she was well dressed, her shoes were repulsive—and probably the expensive kind of repulsive. In other words, they looked like someone had pulled them out of the trash and patched them up, but they were designed to look that way. There were even silvery bands across them that were probably inspired by duct tape. Staring at the shoes, I wondered what she’d think if she had the real thing instead of the designer version. Real duct tape holding her shoes together wouldn’t be nearly as nice, especially if she’d spent hundreds of dollars to buy faux-trashed shoes.

I glanced away for a moment, then when I looked back at her, I saw that her shoes looked even worse. The duct tape wrapping around them curled up around the edges, and the sole was coming off in places. I blinked to make sure I saw what I thought I saw. No, it was still the same way, and I was sure those shoes had been in better shape before I started thinking about them.

I could have written off a lot of stuff that had happened that day to chance. There were logical explanations for the train coming when I wanted it to, for Kim’s computer, the choking guy, the ceiling falling. But shoes didn’t change right before your eyes just because you thought they should. That is, it didn’t happen with me. I knew people who could do things like that, but I also knew I wasn’t one of them. At least, I shouldn’t have been.

If I wasn’t mistaken, I had somehow developed magical powers.

Nineteen

I
forced myself to take a couple of deep breaths and calm down before I had a panic attack on the subway. I knew there were a lot of magical people in the city. It was entirely possible that one of them was on the train and shared my taste in footwear. Just in case, though, I focused on the shoes, trying to remember what they’d looked like before. I was fairly certain I felt the tingle of power in use, but much stronger than anything I’d ever felt from others doing magic near me. I blinked, and the shoes were right back the way they’d been before. Their owner didn’t seem to have noticed. She crossed her legs and kept her eyes on her book.

That sealed it for me. Even if I wasn’t really doing magic, this was suspicious enough to have checked out. I’d learned the hard way not too long ago that telling Owen when something odd and potentially dangerous was going on could save me a lot of trouble. I got off the subway at the next stop and walked back down Broadway toward the office. I barely noticed where I was or the fact that it was cold and windy as I hurried down the sidewalk. The pedestrian lights all turned to “walk” just as I reached them, but I couldn’t be sure that was because of magic. If you walked at the right pace and no one got in your way, you could hit the lights in synchronization like that. I was tempted to try something else to test my newfound powers, but I knew that doing magic where people might see it was forbidden, and I didn’t know the first thing about veiling the effects of magic from public view.

I had a lot to learn if this was for real. I wondered what had happened. Was this a weird side effect of Owen’s potion? Maybe it had backfired, not only making me susceptible to magic, but also able to do magic. Or it could have had something to do with whatever happened at the party. As much as I liked the idea of being able to get whatever I wanted with a wave of my hand, it was also a little frightening.

When I got to the MSI office building, I balked at the front door. It was like earlier in the morning when I’d felt compelled to go to the Spellworks store. My subconscious must have wanted to play around more with magic, but I overruled it and forced myself to open the door. I ran up the stairs and was breathing heavily by the time I got to Owen’s lab. He and Jake were in there working. “We need to talk,” I blurted as I burst through the doorway.

He looked up from the document he was reviewing with Jake, blinked, frowned, and then looked like he was having a root canal. “Can we have this discussion—”

“Now,” I interrupted. “Don’t worry, it’s not a relationship talk, but it is pretty damn crucial. Your office, ASAP.”

While he was still looking at me like I’d lost my mind—and maybe I had—I headed straight for his office. Only when I reached the doorway did I remember his wards. I could usually get into his private office because I was immune to magic, but what about now that I could do magic?

I was able to get through the door, but I thought my head would explode as I crossed the threshold. I couldn’t help but scream in pain, and that brought Owen running. He caught me as I swayed, still holding my head in agony, and helped me into the nearest chair. “Katie, what is it?” Now he sounded gentle and concerned but still a little distant.

“Something very, very weird is happening,” I said, choking back a sob. Before I could change my mind, I blurted, “I think I can do magic now.”

That got his attention. “What? How long has this been going on?”

“Today. I don’t know, maybe I’m imagining things. Maybe I’m going crazy, but it’s too much for coincidence. This morning, the slightest thought that it would be funny if Kim’s coffee turned over and spilled on her computer crossed my mind—and then it happened a few seconds later. I chalked that up to karma because she totally deserved it. Then some really strange stuff happened in the hallway on my way back here. I decided to go home because I had a headache that was getting worse, and on the train, there was this lady with really ugly shoes. I thought about changing them, and they changed, then changed back again when I wanted them back the way they were. So I got off the train at the next stop to come back here and see what was going on.”

He studied me like he was looking at a laboratory specimen. “While there are certainly other possible explanations for everything you’ve described, the number of events in that short a time is highly unlikely. You’ve had a headache, you say?”

I nodded, then regretted it as that intensified the ache. “Yes, ever since I woke up on New Year’s Day. At first I thought it was a hangover, but it wasn’t the typical hangover headache. I felt like my brain was too big for my skull. It’s not as bad now, but it’s a constant ache. And just now, when I walked through your doorway, that was the worst.”

“Hmm. Okay, I want you to try doing some magic.”

“Like what?”

“Think about something you want to make happen. Something simple and obvious that isn’t likely to happen on its own by coincidence.”

I looked around his cluttered office. There was very little in there that didn’t look like it was bound to topple over on its own at any moment. I finally pointed to the magnifying glass that lay on top of a pile of parchment on his desk. “I’m going to make that flip over.”

He nodded. “Okay, go for it.”

I concentrated, imagining the magnifying glass turning onto its side, and then falling over onto its other side. Slowly at first, and then more surely, it rose, turned over, and then landed again on the desk.

“Son of a bitch,” Owen said as he stared at the magnifying glass. It was the closest I’d ever heard him come to swearing in a language I recognized. Gloria probably didn’t approve of profanity.

“So it’s for real,” I said, just to confirm it.

“It’s real, all right. I felt the power, myself.”

“So, is this good or bad?”

“I don’t know. It depends on how and why it happened. The headache has me worried, though. That part’s not good, if it’s related.”

“How do we find out how and why it happened?”

“I don’t know that, either.” He shook his head, his forehead knit in a deep frown. “I’ve never heard of anyone spontaneously developing magical powers, especially not a magical immune. That should be absolutely impossible. If it is possible, then it changes everything we think we know about magical potential.”

“Well, obviously it’s possible because, well, hello!”

“Again, that comes back to how and why.” He knelt next to me, closed his eyes, and held his hands out toward me. Then he frowned even deeper and sat back on his heels. “That’s really odd.”

“A lot is really odd. Care to narrow it down?”

“You don’t feel like, well, you.”

“That would actually explain a lot about the past day or so, as well as what happened at the party, but wouldn’t I notice it if I’m not me?”

“As I told you earlier, every magical person has a sort of signature. You can learn to recognize magical people by the magic they emit once you get to know them and know their magic, even when they’re not actually using magic.”

“Like the magical equivalent of a signature perfume.”

“Exactly. But because you’re magically immune and have absolutely no magic in you, you’re magically blank. If I lost all my other senses, I’d still be able to find and recognize a familiar magical person. You would be mostly invisible to me.”

“Mostly?”

He turned red. “There are other things about you I’ve learned to recognize that aren’t in the realm of the usual physical senses. Anyway, you’ve got a magical signature right now, and it’s not the same as the slight hints of magic you get when we tinker with your immunity. I need you to do something else magical.”

I looked at the water glass on his desk and decided to fill it. As I concentrated on it, I felt the stirrings of power within me, and then the glass filled. I turned to look at Owen, who had an absolutely horrified expression on his face. “Oh, God, you’re Ari,” he said, backing away from me.

“I’m what? No, I’m Katie. I know I’ve been acting odd, but I’d know if I was someone else, wouldn’t I? I wouldn’t have been able to get through your office door. You have her specifically warded out, don’t you?”

He grabbed my wrist and stood up, tugging me with him. “Come on, we need to talk to the boss about this.” He pulled so hard, I had no choice but to go with him. My head nearly exploded again as I passed back through the doorway, but he barely gave me a chance to get my feet under me again before he took off, dragging me behind him. Jake moved as though to ask a question as we passed, but Owen ignored him and kept going. His grip on my wrist made me feel like I was a prisoner in custody, and I guessed that if he thought I had somehow been switched with Ari, I probably was.

This was too weird for me to get my mind around. If I really was Ari and I’d managed to switch bodies with me, Katie Chandler, would I really think I was Katie? Wouldn’t I be going around thinking like Ari and gloating about having fooled them all? It would ruin the point to think I was Katie. Meanwhile, where was Katie? If Ari was in my body, shouldn’t I be getting all kinds of good insight into Idris and his company about now?

Another stab of pain hit my head, and next thing I knew, I was digging in my heels and resisting Owen’s pull. “Oh, no, not so fast,” I said.

He turned back to fix me with a glare. “Katie, now is not the time.”

“You know, you’re kind of hot when you get all forceful and manly like that. Do you ever do that in the bedroom?” I heard the words coming out of my mouth but I didn’t remember forming them in my brain. It was like these things came from outside me. I seemed to have a little devil sitting on my shoulder and whispering in my ear, like in the old cartoons. Shaking my head, as though I thought I could shake that little devil off, I said, “No!” Then I looked at a beet-red Owen and whispered, “Sorry. I don’t know what’s happening, but I want it to stop.”

He looked sympathetic, and shifted his grip on my wrist so that he held my hand, instead. “I know. And that’s what we’re going to do now, so come on.”