Totally Spellbound (15 page)

Megan seemed the worst for wear. Her
skin was paler than it had been before, and her eyelashes were wet.
They stuck together, accenting her eyes even more than they had.
Her lips were very red, because she’d been biting them nervously,
and a tear streak showed him that the lovely red in her cheeks had
no artificial component at all.

She’d achieved that much beauty
without makeup.

The boy had clearly caused her
physical pain with his “broadcast.” When they got back, Rob would
teach him how to tone that down. Otherwise, if he wasn’t careful,
he might do some actual damage someday.

The boy looked at him sharply. He’d
clearly overheard that last thought.

“We’ll work on it,” Rob
said.

The boy squared his shoulders. Rob was
beginning to like him. The kid had courage. Rob hadn’t met too many
moderns who did.

The door banged again, and this time
the hinges squeaked. The bolts had started to work their way out of
their sockets.

“You’d better go if you’re gonna go,”
John said. “I think we’re going to release some Fates whether we
want to or not.”

Rob took Megan’s hand. She looked
terrified.

“Just hang on tight,” he said. “We’re
only gonna ask a few questions, maybe figure out a few things. Then
we’ll come back. All right?”

She took a deep breath and then
nodded.

She had courage too, considering
everything she’d been through in the past few hours. Some people,
when they discovered the world had magic, went to bed for weeks and
wouldn’t get up.

He needed to take care of this Fate
problem quickly, for her sake as well as his own.

He made a small circle with his left
hand and spelled them to the first person he could think of who
would give him a straight answer—Zoe Sinclair.

It was a slower spatial shift than he
usually performed, almost as if the magic stream couldn’t find Zoe
for a moment.

Then he and Megan materialized in a
walk-in closet as large as his thatched hut had been. Women’s
clothes hung from every available post and bar, and Zoe stood in
the middle of them, wearing only a black bra, see-through panties,
and a large diamond ring on her left hand.

“What the hell?” Zoe snapped. “I
thought we had a shield over this place.”

He’d learned how to go through magical
shields centuries ago, but that explained why the spatial shift had
been so slow.

Zoe shoved his chest. “Get
out.”

Then she saw Megan hiding halfway
behind him. Megan’s face was so red, it looked like her head was
about to explode.

“What in the world is going on?” Zoe
asked.

The door to the closet
opened, and a tall, blond man stepped inside. He was wearing jeans
slung low over his hips and nothing more.

Megan covered her eyes. “Travers,
jeez.”

Travers. Her brother. The
one that Zoe was going to marry. He clearly had magical power—Rob
could feel it radiating off him—but of an unconventional
kind.

“What are you doing here?” Travers
snapped. Then he frowned at Rob. “And who are you?”

“You have clothes on, Travs?” Megan
asked.

“Yes,” Travers said. “My bare chest
isn’t that disgusting, sis.”

He tossed a robe at Zoe, who slipped
it on. The robe was as see-through as the panties.

Megan peeked through her fingers. Rob
had the sense she wasn’t hiding from her brother’s lack of clothing
so much as she was trying to disappear from the entire
situation.

“You didn’t tell me we were coming
here,” she whispered to Rob.

“I told you we were going to find
answers,” he said.

“But I could have told you not to come
here,” Megan whispered.

“Because she was the one who said,
‘Travers, you and Zoe take your time, wink-wink.’” There was no
warmth in Travers’ tone. “It was your idea to celebrate the
marriage license, sis, and you have no right—”

“I don’t think Megan’s involved.” Zoe
had her hands on her hips. She was an attractive woman, but a
little too slim. And her clothes were a little too see-through. Rob
wasn’t sure where to look.

He settled for
Megan. Now,
she
was a beautiful woman with appropriate curves. Zoe was too
bony, and always had been.

“Right, Rob?” Zoe asked.

He didn’t remember the question. He
glanced at Travers, who looked nothing like his pretty sister, and
tried to ignore the fury on the man’s face.

“You mind telling me who you are and
what you’re doing here?” Travers asked. “It would be really nice to
know sometime before the next millennium.”

“Um, sorry,” Rob said. He truly hadn’t
expected this. He was almost as embarrassed as Megan. Maybe he was
more embarrassed.

“He’s Robin Hood,” Zoe said, “and he’s
here about the Fates, aren’t you, Rob?”

“Yes,” he said, wondering how she
knew.

“The question is, how did your sister
come to accompany him?” Zoe said.

“Kyle,” Travers said. “Kyle was behind
it. Wasn’t he, Meg?”

“Well, no,” Megan said. “I mean,
maybe. You see, the Fates needed a ride—”

“And they couldn’t take a cab?”
Travers asked.

“Kyle said they couldn’t. They’d get
lost.”

“You know they can’t, Travers,” Zoe
said. “It’s not safe for them out in the real world.”

“Because someone might steal their
magic, I know,” Travers said, but he didn’t sound very
sympathetic.

“No,” Zoe said. “They wouldn’t know
the rules of taxicabs.”

The rules of taxicabs. Rob looked at
her. There were rules for taxicabs, weren’t there? And he’d learned
them over the years as the taxicabs themselves had
evolved.

But if the story were
true—or at least if his understanding of the Fates’ last few months
were true—then they wouldn’t know all sorts of things, from
taxicabs to slot machines to laptop computers.

Those three
women
were
helpless in a variety of ways.

Part of him felt sympathy, and part of
him wanted to rub his hands together with glee.

Travers sighed. “So you’re Robin
Hood.”

Rob nodded.

“And you have my sister
because…?”

“Because she offered to help,” he
said, even though that wasn’t entirely true.

“Leaving my son with the most
incompetent women in the world?” Travers asked a question, but it
didn’t sound like a question. Something in his phrasing made it
sound like a threat.

“And my friend John,” Rob said. “He
can handle all of them.”

“John.” Travers didn’t sound
satisfied.

“Little John,” Zoe said. “You
know.”

“No,” Megan said from behind Rob. “He
doesn’t know. He hates myths and legends. He prefers books on the
history of math.”

Travers shot her a glare. “Given how
myths and legends are working out for me these days, do you blame
me?”

Zoe raised herself to her
full height. “It seems to me myths and legends are treating you
quite well, Mr. Kinneally.”

He grinned at her. “If these people
would leave your closet.”

“You’re a myth and a legend?” Megan
asked Zoe.

“Only in my own mind,” Zoe said. “But
I spend a lot of time with the real thing. Although we haven’t seen
much of you lately, Rob. What gives?”

He didn’t want to have cocktail party
talk in the middle of Zoe’s closet. Especially with Zoe in
see-through clothing and her half-naked husband-to-be beside
her.

“I, ah, just came…” Rob
stopped himself. That was bad. “I mean, I just got here because
I—”

“He wants to know what’s going on with
these Fate women,” Megan said. “He really doesn’t want to help
them, and I don’t blame him.”

“I don’t blame him either,” Travers
said, “but not doing something the Fates want is very
hard.”

“Even when they don’t have magic,” Zoe
added. “You’d think it was easier, but you’d be wrong.”

Rob sighed. “They say true love is at
stake.”

“I think they’re right,” Zoe said.
“The Faerie Kings have stolen their wheel. The Fates got along
without it just fine for millennia, but then they gave up their
magic powers because Zeus told them it was a job
requirement—”

“For what?”

“They had to reapply to be Fates. They
had term limits.” Zoe shrugged. “Don’t ask me why they believed
this garbage, but they did. And now everything’s at
stake.”

“So why aren’t you still helping
them?” Rob asked.

“They said we’re done.” Travers
reached across a row of cocktail dresses and took Zoe’s hand. “I
suppose we could have argued more.”

“But apparently, it’s been a tag-team
rescue from the beginning,” Zoe said. “You know the Fates. Their
main job in life is to ensure that people find their
soulmates.”

Rob felt that flare of anger again.
“Yeah, right. That always works.”

Megan put a calming hand on his
arm.

Zoe frowned at him. Like most mages,
she only knew bits and pieces of his history. “You don’t like
them.”

“I loathe them,” he said.

“Oh, great,” Travers muttered. “So
much for the wedding.”

Zoe squeezed Travers’ hand. “We’ll be
fine. Don’t worry.”

“That’s like saying don’t
breathe.”

“They want me to steal that wheel,”
Rob said.

“They need someone experienced at
theft,” Zoe said. “I’m not it. Travers certainly isn’t. They’re the
ones who suggested you.”

“I’m not a burglar,” Rob
said.

“You stole from the rich and gave to
the poor,” Travers said, then stuck his tongue out at his sister.
“See? I know some legends.”

“You could’ve called me the original
highwayman or something,” Rob said. “I certainly wasn’t a
high-level thief like you see in the movies.”

“Are there high-level thieves like you
see in the movies?” Megan asked softly.

“Not magical ones,” Zoe said. “We
don’t need all that gadgetry.”

“Except when you’re stealing a
spinning wheel,” Megan said.

Rob shook his head. “The wheel’s in
Faerie, right?”

“Right,” Zoe said.

“So high-level gadgetry
wouldn’t work anyway.” He sighed. “They said you know exactly where
it is.”

“Oh, yeah,” Zoe said. “I can show you
a map.”

“Later,” Rob said. “If I decide to
take the case.”

“Which you’re not going to do.” Zoe
shook her head. “Rob, you could be our last hope.”

“Who’s last hope? You two seem to be
doing pretty well here.” The words sounded almost bitter. He hadn’t
meant to be bitter, had he?

But it was ironic. The Fates wanted
him to save true love, when they couldn’t save his true
love.

Wouldn’t
save his true love.

“Tell you what,” Zoe said, her black
eyes narrowing. “You do me a favor. Spell yourself to the Fates.
Say, literally, ‘to the Fates’ when you do it. Then come back here,
and we’ll talk.”

“Zo!” Travers protested.

She got a cheeky grin and looked at
him. “Come back after—what?—four hours?”

“Five,” Travers said. “In fact, how
about we see you tomorrow? Or maybe in a few weeks.”

“The Fates don’t have a few weeks,”
Zoe said.

“Tomorrow,” Travers said.

“I have Kyle for the whole night?”
Megan asked.

“You don’t have him right now,”
Travers said.

They were bickering. Rob had never
seen adult siblings bicker, except on television.

“I know where he is,” Megan
said.

“I know where he is too,” Travers
said. “That doesn’t mean I’m comfortable with it.”

“John’s competent,” Rob said so that
Megan wouldn’t get into any more trouble.

“No one’s competent around the Fates,”
Travers muttered.

“Just do what I ask,” Zoe said, “then
take Megan to the hotel and wait for us. We’ll come to
you.”

Rob sighed. He hadn’t meant for any of
this to happen. He glanced at Megan. The flush that had overwhelmed
her face was gone. She looked up at him and shrugged.

“All right, Zoe,” he said. “I expect
to see you later tonight. But don’t have any expectations of
me.”

She grinned. “Don’t worry,” she said.
“I know exactly what you’ll do.”

He was afraid of that. He took Megan’s
hand. It was cold. Then he waved an arm and said, “To the
Fates.”

And the closet disappeared.