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A Little Magic(66)

By:Nora Roberts


“You’re…” The knife was solid in her hand. A trick of the eye, she told herself. Just a trick of the eye. “You’re a magician.”

“I am.” His grin was like lightning, fast and bright. Whereas he had been handsome, now he was devastating. His pleasure shone. “That is what I am, exactly. Sit down, Kayleen, and break fast with me. For I’ve hungered a long time.”

She took one cautious step in retreat. “It’s too much.”

Thinking she meant the food, he frowned at the table. Considered. “Perhaps you’re right. I got a bit carried away with it all.” He scanned the selections, nodded, then sketched an arch with his hand.

Half the food vanished.

The knife dropped out of her numb fingers. Her eyes rolled straight back.

“Oh, Christ.” It was impatience as much as concern. At least this time he had the wit to catch her before she hit the floor. He sat her in a chair, gave her a little shake, then watched her eyes focus again.

“You didn’t understand after all.”

“Understand? Understand?”

“It’ll need to be explained, then.” He picked up a plate and began to fill it for her. “You need to eat or you’ll be ill. Your injuries will heal faster if you’re strong.”

He set the plate in front of her, began to fill one for himself. “What do you know of magic, Kayleen Brennan of Boston?”

“It’s fun to watch.”

“It can be.”

She would eat, she thought, because she did feel ill. “And it’s an illusion.”

“It can be.” He took the first bite—rare roast beef—and moaned in ecstasy at the taste. The first time he’d come to his week, he’d gorged himself so that he was sick a full day. And had counted it worth it. But now he’d learned to take his time, and appreciate.

“Do you remember now how you came here?”

“It was raining.”

“Yes, and is still.”

“I was going…”

“How were you going?”

“How?” She picked up her fork, sampled the fish without thinking. “I was driving…I was driving,” she repeated, on a rising note of excitement. “Of course. I was driving, and I was lost. The storm. I was coming from—” She stopped, struggling through the mists. “Dublin. I’d been in Dublin. I’m on vacation. Oh, that’s right, I’m on vacation and I was going to drive around the countryside. I got lost. Somehow. I was on one of the little roads through the forest, and it was storming. I could barely see. Then I…”

The relief in her eyes faded as they met his. “I saw you,” she whispered. “I saw you out in the storm.”

“Did you now?”

“You were out in the rain. You said my name. How could you have said my name before we met?”

She’d eaten little, but he thought a glass of wine might help her swallow what was to come. He poured it, handed it to her. “I’ve dreamed of you, Kayleen. Dreamed of you for longer than your life time. And dreaming of you I was when you were lost in my forest. And when I awoke, you’d come. Do you never dream of me, Kayleen?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. There was a storm. I was lost. Lightning hit very near, and there was a deer. A white deer in the road. I swerved to avoid it, and I crashed. I think I hit a tree. I probably have a concussion, and I’m imagining things.”

“A white hind.” The humor had gone from his face again. “You hit a tree with your car? They didn’t have to hurt you,” he muttered. “They had no right to hurt you.”

“Who are you talking about?”

“My jailers.” He shoved his plate aside. “The bloody Keepers.”

“I need to check on my car.” She spoke slowly, calmly. Not just eccentric, she decided. The man was unbalanced. “Thank you so much for helping me.”

“If you want to check on your car, then we will. In the morning. There’s hardly a point in going out in a storm in the middle of the night.” He laid his hand firmly on hers before she could rise. “You’re thinking, ‘This Flynn, he’s lost his mind somewhere along the way.’ Well, I haven’t, though it was a near thing a time or two. Look at me, leannana. Do I mean nothing to you?”

“I don’t know.” And that was what kept her from bolting. He could look at her, as he was now, and she felt tied to him. Not bound by force, but tied. By her own will. “I don’t understand what you mean, or what’s happening to me.”

“Then we’ll sit by the fire, and I’ll tell you what it all means.” He rose, held out his hand. Irritation washed over his face when she refused to take it. “Do you want the knife?”