The Magic's in the Music (Magic Series Book 5) (42 page)

Michael looked up. “We likely to have Clan after us?”

He was asking her? She swallowed, trying to keep her teeth from chattering. Think. “Uh, no. I don’t think so. Lan collapsed the building on them. I…I think they’re all…dead.” Her voice cracked a little as images of falling ceiling and crumbling walls ricocheted around her brain. They’d killed all those people.

“Good.” Kemble said. “At least it will take Morgan time to bring them all back.”

“What?” Greta asked, feeling as though she might not quite have heard that right.

Jane scooted over to her and put one arm around her shoulders. “Morgan’s power is bringing people back to life,” she said, her soft voice kind. “They aren’t really dead. Well, they are, but she’ll bring them back like nothing happened.”

Greta wasn’t sure whether the sound that came out of her chest was a laugh or a sob. “I should be glad. Or not?”

“Just be glad we’re safe for now.”

“Hey, how did Lan…?” Devin asked from the other side of the truck.

“Time for that later, Dev,” Jane said firmly.

The truck skidded around a corner and everyone slid over to one side. Michael braced Lan though, and reached for the cooler. Lanyon made a distressed sound of pain.

“Will he be okay?” Greta asked in a small voice.

“Kid’s healthy as a horse in spite of all his hard living,” Michael growled. “We just need to get him home to Dr. Tanet.” He took out a plastic bag filled with dark fluid and a needle attached to what looked like a catheter. “Hold up the bag,” he ordered, handing it to Devin, who scooted over and got to his knees. Michael ripped Lan’s sleeve to expose the inside of the elbow and inserted the needle carefully into the vein. Blood, for that’s what it was, flowed into the catheter. “Squeeze the bag, Dev, very gently. He needs fluid bad right now.”

“Wow,” Kee exclaimed. “I’m surprised you’d try that in a lurching truck.”

“At least there aren’t any bombs falling,” Michael said absently. Greta blinked. She knew he’d been Delta Force from his conversation with Luc Marrec, but that statement brought it home to her. Michael pulled out a plunger from a little case. When the blood bag was empty, he disconnected it. “Get me another one,” he ordered Devin. In the meantime he pushed the content of the plunger into the catheter. “Ten milligrams of morphine should take care of the pain when we move him.” He turned to Greta, looking her up and down in the light of the flashlights. “You hurt?”

She looked down at herself. Her knee was scraped and one of her elbows. She put a finger to her cheekbone. That hurt some. A bruise probably. “Uh, just some burns and a head-ache where the guy knocked me out.” She held up her forearms.

Michael grunted. “Burns get infected like crazy. We’ll need to clean those and get some antibiotic salve on them. And you’ve probably got a concussion.” He rummaged in the magic bag and came out with some packets of antiseptic pads and a tube of salve. “Jane, can you help out?”

Before Jane could do anything, the truck lurched to a stop. As everyone scrambled to their feet, Tris rolled up the back door of the van. “We’re good,” he said. “Into the SUVs.”

Greta hopped down into an empty parking structure. Or maybe a warehouse. There were white uniforms and towels scattered everywhere. She hardly had time to get more than an impression of concrete floors, harsh work lights and some equipment shoved into a corner. Devin and Michael managed to slide Lan out. He was blinking lazily. They loaded him bodily into one of the black SUVs, Michael giving orders the whole time.

Someone herded her into the back seat of the other vehicle, sandwiched between Tammy and Jane. Michael and his red duffle got into the other SUV with Lanyon, Devin still holding the new bag of blood Michael had attached. “Tris, you’re driving the ambulance.”

“I’ve got this one,” Kemble said, and slid into the driver’s seat of Greta’s SUV.

The engine roared. The work lights slipped past, and they were out into the desert night.

‡

Greta watched the
desert stream past the windows of the SUV as it sped away from Las Vegas. She roused herself to turn and make sure the car with Lanyon in it was behind them every once in a while. Of course, she couldn’t see anything but headlights in the dark, but she always seemed to forget that. One of the Tremaines would tell her not to worry, that Lanyon was going to be fine, even though they looked worried and she wasn’t sure they quite believed that. And she would sink back into her seat. What choice did she have? But her mind wasn’t quiet. In fact she felt remarkably clear, in spite of the pounding in her head. Clear wasn’t a good thing.

This whole situation was both unreal and incredibly, horribly real. She had a magic power for God’s sake. She could make light into a laser that came out of her hands. And Lanyon could shake down an entire underground conference center, killing a lot of people. Somehow that was supposed to mean that they were destined to love each other.

How unreal was that? She did, of course. Love him. She hadn’t seen Lan’s funny side, the one his father said he’d once had. Wry once or twice, but not funny. Maybe she never would. He’d probably lost that. Who wouldn’t in these circumstances? But he was brave and kind and brilliant at music. He’d sold out everything important to him, to his family, maybe to the world, not because they tortured him, but because they’d hurt her. And then he castigated himself over it because, in spite of all his rebellious cynicism, he was an honorable man. He pretended nothing meant anything to him, but his core of honor said that was a lie. How much pain would he have taken before he told them anything if it had only been his own mind and body at risk?

Did this whole genetic stuff mean that he loved her as well? See above…he’d given up everything that meant anything to him just to protect her. Or maybe he didn’t do it just for her. Since he was honorable, maybe he would have protected anyone. She had to admit it would be an honor to be loved by a man like Lanyon. He deserved the best.

And—damn the clarity that seemed to come with almost dying—the best wasn’t her.

She’d decided that she loved him. But did she know what that even meant? Talk about your life flashing before you. Hers was screaming its revelations. She’d never been close to anyone, not after her break with her mother. Mothers were supposed to love you and protect you and put your best interests over their own. And her mother hadn’t. So Greta had taken control in so many frigging ways. And control meant never taking any risks.

It was fine that Jax wasn’t really a friend, because then Greta didn’t have to give Jax anything in return. Greta moved from dating one guy to another easily. No regrets. Move on? No problem. She hadn’t let anyone come within five blocks of her heart. Hell, the closest thing she had to a pet was her telescope, an inanimate object. She couldn’t even let a pet into her life.

So the tragedy here was that, even if she thought she loved Lanyon, she was probably wrong. She wasn’t capable of love. Not anymore. Maybe that was why she’d been attracted to him in the first place. Striding into that club that night, he sure didn’t look like he’d commit to anyone or require commitment in return. She’d had to be sure he’d never ask her anything she couldn’t give.

But now they might be tied together by this Destiny thing. That didn’t mean everything would turn out fine. Even if she tried to make it work with him, she’d fail. She was an emotional cripple. She’d end up hurting him. She’d never be happy like the rest of the Tremaine family.

Greta Falk, cold fish. And he would be tied to her by this stupid gene, wanting real love. Something she couldn’t give. So she had to leave him, too, or she’d break him.

Suddenly her lungs took in a big breath without her conscious effort and she realized the stupor that had insulated her had left. She started to cry.

Jane hugged her close. “Glad to have you back, honey.”

“I don’t mean to cry,” Greta sobbed. Kemble was looking at her in the rearview mirror, and Kee, in the front seat turned to look, too.

“It’s okay,” Jane murmured. “It’s the shock wearing off. We’ll be home soon and then you can have a nice, hot bath.”

“You want to tell us how Lan collapsed the ceiling on the Clan?” Kemble asked.

Greta hiccupped, but the sobs receded. Was Kemble giving her something to do to keep her engaged? Her insides felt dull and metallic. Her face wanted to screw itself up around the pain of realization and loss. But she owed them. They needed to know. “Sound waves. He got a power,” she managed.

“Sound waves started all that destruction? Way to go, Lan.” Devin sounded like the quintessential surfer dude.

“Like Joshua at the walls of Jericho.” She swallowed. “I’m not sure how we survived.”

“I’m glad you did,” Jane said, hugging her tight. “And look at you. You two got out all by yourselves, before we could even come to the rescue.”

“Lan didn’t want to put you in danger.” But he had. They’d be angry with him, no matter how well they were covering up. And he’d need them after she left. She had to make sure they forgave him. “I’m sorry you had to come and get us. I swear Lan didn’t think we were in any danger. We just sneaked out to go up to the Griffith Park Observatory to see the comet. Then Lan got all excited and said he knew what the fourth Talisman was, and next thing we knew this guy named Jason knocked us out and drugged us or something.”

“What?” Kemble asked. The SUV swerved ominously.

They were all four of them looking at her in astonishment.
Oh. The Talisman.
She slumped. Her face crinkled up in pain. “I’m so sorry. Lan told Jason and that other guy who could cause pain about the Talisman. He didn’t want to. He felt horrible about it.”

“What…?” Kemble cleared his throat. “What is it? The Talisman.”

“It’s the comet, Galahad. It was first documented in the fifth century, about the time of…”

“Camelot,” Jane supplied in a breathy voice.

“Yeah. Kinda interesting actually that they named it after the knight who found the Holy Grail.”

“But the Talisman has to be a Pentacle,” Tammy said slowly.

“It’s going to cross Ursus Major and form a pentagram with the other four stars of the dipper as it moves through.”

“Wow,” Devin said. The others seemed to have lost their power of speech.

“So.” Kemble said finally. “It’s a moment of time.”

“Yeah. I guess so.”

“What’s supposed to happen at that moment?” Devin muttered. “I bet Morgan knows.”

“My fault.” Greta felt miserable. “This whole thing wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t been spouting off about my passion.”

“Which is starlight,” Jane said gently. “Can you tell us about your power?”

Greta vowed to make this sound casual. How did one actually say aloud that you had a magic power? “Light, I guess. I can make, uh, lasers.”
That sounds sooooo crazy.
“From my palms. I…I cut us out of the freezer where they had us chained.”

“Well.” Jane patted her hand. “That could be very useful.”

“Sounds like it was very useful,” Kemble said in that deep rumbly voice of his that reminded her of Lanyon. They were reacting as though she’d announced she could make really good homemade ice cream. She wasn’t sure she could take this—any of this. Was this what her life had become? Magic and torture and…and love. But it wasn’t love, was it? It was just genetics. And she wasn’t capable of love anyway. She felt the panic ramping up.

“Light and sound,” Tammy whispered as she turned away to look out the window. “Sounds like you two are made for each other.”

She didn’t sound happy about that.

No. They were not made for each other. How would she tell these nice people that she wasn’t any good for their brother?

“You just try to get some sleep,” Jane said. “No, no.” She quelled Greta’s protest. “Just close your eyes for a little bit, that’s all.”

Okay. She’d close her eyes. At least she wouldn’t have to see their speculation.

*

“Bullet’s out,” Lan
heard someone say. It was that nice doctor who took care of Senior. Dr. Tanet. “I’ve sewed him up.”

“I knew you could do it.” His mother sounded far away.