Jessica Andersen - Magic Unchained

Overnight. Brilliant. “Sure, thanks”—he belatedly glanced at her name tag—“Doris.” He touched Cara’s arm and together they followed her to the gift shop, where he handed over the magic plastic—aka one of the limitless AmExes that were linked to the Nightkeeper Fund—and didn’t let himself look at the number when he signed the slip.

Meanwhile, Cara chirped away, pleasantly wringing Doris dry of information about when, where, and how the screaming skull was being moved and displayed. The answers pretty much added up to there being no way in hell for them to get at it before the party. Seeming entirely unfazed by the prospect of spending the night, Cara burbled, “Is there anything we need to know about the gala? Dress code, silent auction, that sort of thing?”

“The dress is black and white.” Doris leaned over the counter toward Sven, giving him a whiff of something lavendery and old-ladyish. “And between you and me, the food isn’t very good—it’s supposed to be Mayan, but one of the board members is some sort of health nut and pitched a fit, so dinner is going to be faux-veggie Mayan. The staff did their best, I’m sure, but it’s all very… healthy.” She lowered her voice conspiratorially. “I’m smuggling in a couple of Big Macs and some homemade brownies to hold me over.”

Despite his inner turmoil, Sven grinned. Old Doris might’ve just hustled him for a few thou—okay, he peeked—for what had to be the most expensive room on the ship, but a fellow junk-fooder couldn’t be all that bad. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he assured her, and sent her an eyebrow wiggle on his way out the door, making her laugh and shoo him away.

Outside the museum, he and Cara found a small, secluded spot among the lush landscaping, and hunkered together to call Anna and update her on the situation. After a quick confab with Dez, she came back on the line, her voice slightly distorted as she said, “If you get in trouble, call me and I’ll come for an emergency evac. Otherwise, I’ll meet you on the dock in the morning. I’d rather not have to target a ’port onto a crowded boat in the middle of the Pacific.”

“In other words,” Cara said dryly after they signed off, “Dez said to leave us alone together for the day to duke it out.” She didn’t meet his eyes when she said it, though, and a faint flush stained her cheeks.

“It’s not the worst idea.” He leaned back and looked up at the sky, which was almost painfully blue through a feathering of brilliant green leaves. The day was bright and sharp, the air subtly scented with flowers, the niche a perfect little spot for a kiss… and three months from now, it could all be gone if the Nightkeepers and winikin didn’t get their shit together. Which meant that he and Cara needed to get to work. But when he looked back and found her sitting there with her eyes closed and her face turned up to the sun, something shifted in his chest. She looked peaceful, almost happy. It wasn’t until he saw the difference in her that he realized just how tense she was at Skywatch, like she was always braced for the next disaster. And he didn’t want to put that look back on her face. “Fuck it. Let’s play hooky.”

Her eyes flew open, then narrowed. “That’s so not happening.”

“Why not? They’re not expecting us back until morning, and we can’t do anything with the skull until the gala. We’ve got all day.” He shifted to face her but didn’t let himself reach out. This wasn’t about sex; it was about… Shit, he didn’t know. He just knew that they needed this. “Come play with me, Cara,” he said softly. “I think we could both use a day off.”

Come play. He used to be the guy who surfed instead of studying but aced his tests anyway, the guy who was always the first one into the pool and the last one to leave the party. When had he forgotten how to play? When had he gotten so freaking serious? The answer was right in his heart, though: He had stopped being that guy when he bonded with Mac. It was the first time in his life that he had made a real and lasting commitment to something, putting him on a different track with the magi. He was their hunter now, just as much a killer as Michael with his death magic. And, damn it, he wanted to play again.

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea.” The shadows in her eyes tugged at him, moved him, and suddenly there was nothing he wanted to do more than take them away—for a few hours, at least.

And he thought he knew how. “Come sailing with me.” The ocean was the one thing they had in common as actual people.

Her gaze sharpened. “That’s not fair.”

“So sue me.… But do me a favor and wait until after we’ve run away to sea for a few hours.” His voice dropped. “Think of it—the wind in our faces, the sound of the waves, the feeling of the boat moving under us…” And in thinking of it, he yearned for the days when that had been his whole world, back before the Nightkeepers, the magic, and Mac. Maybe he’d been young, cocky, and irresponsible, but he’d been, at his core, happy.

He didn’t know whether she was humoring him or if she too missed her days on the water, but she hesitated only a few seconds before she nodded. “Okay. I… Okay, let’s do it.”

Feeling like the bell had just rung on the last day of classes, he surged to his feet. “Come on. Let’s go find ourselves a marina.”

She joined him, eyes lighting with a glint of the excitement that was suddenly racing through him—not the toxic restlessness that dogged him when he stayed in one place too long, but the anticipation of the rush and the roar of the ocean.

“You find the marina and charm someone into renting you a boat you’ll be happy with. Text me when you’ve got something and I’ll meet you there.”

“Where are you going to be?”

“Shopping.” Her lips twisted in a rueful smile. “We both need bathing suits… and unless I miss my guess, we’re short on some black and white.”

“I’ll do it.” The words were out before he knew what he was saying.

Her startled eyes flew to his. “Wait. What?”

“I’ll do the shopping. You find us a boat.” And if that wasn’t a vote of trust, he didn’t know what was. But with her wearing his mark on her wrist, the last thing he wanted was for her to do his chores.

Faint color stained her cheeks. “Are you sure?”

Yeah, if it made her look like that… then yeah, he was sure. “Positive. Let’s go.”

The next hour was, mercifully, a blur that mainly consisted of walking into the first high-end place he saw that had a tux in the window on one side and a sparkly dress on the other and throwing himself on the clerk’s mercy.

The bathing suits were easy enough—after getting a baleful look for his semiobscene charade of, “She’s about this big,” he texted Cara for the info the saleslady wanted, and then went off to the other side of the store for a pair of trunks and the joy of having his inseam politely groped. The tux was a no-brainer—he just nodded and let the sales guy go to town with the caveat of, “Anything, as long as I can walk out with it”—and when the ladies’ attendant came back with three gowns she thought would work, he “eenie, meenie, miney, mo’d” it… and then picked the one he liked because it sparkled like the sea in bright sunlight, washing everything to white and glitter. And when he reached the register and a gleam of black and white caught his eye, he added it to the pile and got a gush of thanks in return.

This time he went ahead and looked at the total, and he chuckled when he signed off. Granted, it wasn’t as fun as back when Jox was handling the purse strings—it’d been entertaining to watch the poor guy twitch when Alexis had killed a rented BMW and left it on the AmEx—but it still felt just illicit enough for him to get a kick out of it.