The Pleasure Master (34 page)

And he knew the love shining in her gaze would be a bridge from a life that now seemed as gray as the mist creeping up the hill to a brightly colored future. A future with the only woman he could ever love.

“She wouldna say the words, Ian. She said she wouldna say them until ye came.” Neil clapped Ian on the shoulder. “'Tis lucky ye arrived when ye did. I can hear the Mackays.”

“Aye. Ye're right.” With one arm still around Kathy, he gazed at Neil. “Ye'll be the Pleasure Master now, and I know ye'll do a fine job. 'Tis sorry I am that I didna know ye better, didna treat ye as my brother, but the blame is mine. Tell Colin . . .” Damn, the words still would not come easily, but he would practice often with Kathy. “Tell Colin that I'll always think of ye both wi' love.”

Neil said nothing, only tightened his grip on Ian's shoulder. It was enough for Ian.

“Kathy, ye must tell Coco I'm sorry we willna
join. 'Twould have been a wondrous thing for her to remember.” Neil's voice held laughter and regret.

“I don't think you'll want to hear what she says to that.” Kathy's laughter was shaky. “Oh, and take care of the bed, Neil. The bed should always belong to the Pleasure Master.”

The shouts of the Mackays grew closer, and Ian knew they must hurry. “Neil, all that was mine is now yers. Hand Malin to me. I wouldna leave him behind.”

“He's gone, Ian.” Neil's voice was anxious. “He jumped from my arms and headed back to you. We canna search for him now. Ye must leave before the Mackays arrive.”

Kathy saw the expression on Ian's face, knew what he'd say because she would have said the same thing.

“I canna leave him behind. He is too old and slow to escape the Mackays.” He turned to start down the hill.

Neil grabbed him, and they struggled.

“I must find him, Neil. He wouldna abandon me.”

Panic pushed all rational thought from Kathy's head. She stared down the hill into the thickening mist, then froze. Ian and Neil grew still beside her.

The Mackays appeared out of the shifting grayness like phantoms in a nightmare. But this was no dream, and she couldn't wake up when it got to the bad part.

A short distance behind the Mackays, unnoticed,
Malin struggled up the hill, determined to reach the master he'd lived for, and now seemed fated to die for.

Nothing.
Kathy knew there was nothing they could do to save Malin. She felt Ian's despair, his helplessness.

Sudden motion shifted their attention to Peter. Lights flashing, Peter started down the hill. “If I'm not back in five minutes . . . just wait longer!”

Tears clogged Kathy's laughter. “I never thought I'd be glad to hear Jim Carrey's voice.”

Ian said nothing, just stood with clenched fists staring down the hill as Peter toddled toward his old friend.

The Mackays stopped, then parted to let Peter through. They milled around in confusion, but they didn't run. Their shouts continued to sound uncertain as Malin scrambled atop Peter, but still they didn't run.

Kathy feared Peter might not make it. The Mackays had lost some of their terror of the toy, and probably Fiona had threatened them with a fate worse than Peter if they ran.

Kathy held her breath as Peter started the long trek up the hill, while the Mackays continued to argue and shout.

Then she heard it.
Out of the mist drifted the haunting cry of a bagpipe. It gathered strength and volume as the piper launched into a powerful, lilting tune.

“'Tis Colin.” Ian's voice held wonder. “I've heard him but two times before as we went into
battle, but I know 'tis he.” His voice softened. “'Tis a song for a warrior. A song of goodbye.”

Kathy wrapped her arms around Ian's waist and hugged him tightly. “Colin told me he'd only play for someone he loved.”

She felt Ian's shudder, the shattering of all the bonds that had separated him from his emotions, from others. “'Tis holding the Mackays' attention. Mayhap Peter can reach us.”

Urging the small toy on in her mind, she watched tensely as Peter moved faster than she'd ever seen him move. When he finally reached them, Ian scooped Malin up and Kathy lifted Peter into her arms.

As if a spell had been broken, the Mackays surged up the long hill.

Kathy stared at Peter face to face. Okay, face to whatever. She'd never been quite sure where his face was. “You've blown your cover, Peter. You'll never again make me believe you're an evil demon.” She tapped his metal side. “There's a heart in there.”

Suddenly, she felt it. Immense power, intelligence, and a wicked humor that almost made her drop him. There were no blinking lights now, no movie quotes, but she knew that she was meeting the
real
Peter for the first time, and the meeting left her shaking.

“God's teeth, lass, say yer quotes now. If they dinna work, we may still flee into the hills.” Ian's frantic order jerked Kathy's attention back to the horde of Mackays halfway up the hill.

She drew in a deep breath of courage. What if she was wrong? What if the quotes didn't send them home? Great. Just what she needed. Doubts.

Ignoring her panic, she once again wrapped her free arm around Ian's waist and offered her first quote. “How do you find your way back in the dark? Just head for that big star straight on. The highway's under it, and it'll take us right home.”

Peter didn't care.

Fine. Just fine. So
The Misfits
wasn't his thing. Her panic was getting harder to ignore. Quote two. “Then close your eyes and tap your heels together three times. And think to yourself, ‘There's no place like home.'” Peter couldn't ignore
The Wizard of Oz
. It was un-American.

Nothing.

Her panic was close to the surface now, bubbling just below her frustration. “Damn it! What are you? Some kind of Rumpelstiltskin? Guess the quote in three tries or become Scottish crispy chicken?”

No flashing lights. No sarcastic line.

The Mackays were so close now she imagined she could feel their hot breath. Ian reached for his sword.

Okay, she'd saved the best for last. She tightened her grip on Ian, listened to the clatter as he dropped his sword to clasp her, prayed to whatever god was listening.
Now!
It had to be now.

“I'll think about it tomorrow. Tara! Home. I'll go home, and I'll think of some way to get him back! After all, tomorrow is another day!”

She almost didn't believe it when the whirling colors began. As Neil and the Mackays started to fade, Ian stayed strong beside her. “Thank you,” she whispered.

Her awareness began to slip, but she knew there was one last thing. . . . “You gave me Ian. What can I give to you?”

Her vision had become a long tunnel wrapped in brilliant colors. At its center was Peter's flashing amber lights.

“Hey, my pleasure, Kathy. I like a woman who believes in compensation. How about naming your first kid after me?”

Peter had called her by name. He'd slid off his mask of movie quotes, letting her reach him for the first, and probably the last, time.

“My first kid?” The very thought warmed her.

“Yeah. Look, you're gonna have a bunch, so one measly name's no big deal. Whatta ya say?”

His voice. She almost giggled. Power like his should be wrapped in the deep tones of a James Earl Jones, not a New York cabby. Go figure. “What's your name?”

“Ganymede.”

“That's . . . some name.” She couldn't name her child Ganymede. “It's a little long though.”

“Sure, sure. That's what they all say. Last two who thought Ganymede wasn't a great name're squatting on some lily pad hawking beer.”

“Oh.”

“Okay, so they're not sitting on a lily pad, but name your kid after me and it'll make me
really
happy. You'll be glad if you make me really happy.”

She didn't have time to think about anything more as the whirling colors took her. Her last sense was of Ian's hand firmly wrapped around hers. She was going home . . . with her very own Pleasure Master and a lifetime of love.

There are only a few pleasures left to a reformed cosmic troublemaker like me—a fine bottle of wine, a superb dining experience, and a buttkicking trip into the past to do some in-yo'-face matchmaking. And I did it all, baby.

Was I good, or what? Kathy and Ian didn't have a chance. Did you see Kathy's face when I zapped her with the opposite of what she wanted? Okay, so I'd already decided that Ian was gonna be her man, but when she asked for warm, convenient, and subservient it made everything . . . better, more satisfying.

And those three quotes at the end? I would've sent her home even if they'd been from her Aunt Claudia, but what can I say, I'm a sucker for dramatic moments.

Any regrets? Yeah, I didn't get to use one of my favorite quotes. Remember when Kathy made that Rumpelstiltskin crack? She was all frantic, trying to hurry my butt along. I was ready to hit her with Billy Crystal from
The Princess Bride
: “You rush a miracle man, you get rotten miracles.” It would've been great. But I saw all those Mackays truckin' up that hill and . . . Hey, I was a little worried. So sue me.

Anyway, I haven't had that much fun since I wiped out all those dinosaurs with that meteor. Talk about your pinball wizard. . . . But I digress.

It was almost like the bad old days. I got to talk some trash, mix it up in a few fights, and scare the crap out of the general populace.

Of course, it was for a good cause. Everything has to be
good
now. You know something, I've been good and I've been bad. Bad is better.

This was okay, though. Those movie quotes were a challenge, and I like something that stirs the old creative juices. Next time I think I'll try a different form. Something that doesn't limit my mobility and my mouth. I got a lot of places to go and a lot of things to say.

Hmm. Wonder what's happening with Kathy and her Pleasure Master. I'll just hit the time-travel remote and surf into the future a couple of years.

Well, looks like old Ian has found his niche. Has a radio talk show, handing out advice of a romantic nature. The ratings look great, and wait till they get a look at him on cable.

Now here's something to warm the heart of an
old demon. Kathy named her first son Mede. Can you believe it? She gave him half my name. Hey, half is better than I usually get.

I'll have to send them something special to celebrate my namesake.

Hmm. Saw an old bed in a private collection last week. Gilded with great paintings. I especially liked the one with the blond woman who had a little tiara on . . . Yeah, I think I'll send the bed to Kathy and Ian. Seem like the kind of people to appreciate an antique like that.

You know, all this introspection makes me hungry for a Big Mac and some fries. Whatta ya say, babe?

“I loooove you.”

“Here's looking at you, kid.”