Much Ado About Magic
Page 56

“You’ll do fine,” I said, patting him on the one clean spot on his shoulder. “You’re awesome in meetings. Just think meeting mode. This isn’t interpersonal at all. You’re presenting your latest findings to fellow professionals. You can do that.”
With a big grin, he said, “Yeah, I can do that. I’d kiss you, but I don’t want to make you smell like sulfur.”
“You know, I think playing with these dragons is your excuse to avoid going out there and interacting with customers.”
His cheeks went pink, and he slowly shook his head. “You’re getting to know me far too well.” Then he gave me an appraising look. “And how are you holding up?”
“I’m a basket case,” I admitted. “It’s terrifying knowing that the best-case scenario involves the bad guys making a move that will disrupt the conference.”
“If they do, it’s not a reflection on you and your work.”
“I know. But even if I hadn’t planned this event, I’d be going crazy waiting for the other shoe to drop—and to find out what kind of shoe it will be.”
“I’m not just in here to play with dragons,” he said, gesturing toward a table set against the far wall, where his set of Spellworks charms lay under glass covers. “I’m monitoring these things, so I’ll know if they use the conduits.”
“And what happens if they do?”
“Then I’ll have to act fast,” he said with a grin that bordered on cocky. More seriously, he added, “Don’t worry, I won’t let them mess things up. I’ll put a stop to whatever it is. Does that make you feel better?”
I nodded, then sighed. “I guess so.” I attempted a brave grin and said, “Look at us—you with stage fright and me being a nervous Nellie. Is it too late to run away?”
“Probably. But ask me again in a few hours. I might change my mind.”
One of the dragons came over to him and rubbed its face against his shoulder, like an overgrown, fire-breathing cat. He scratched it behind the knee, and I felt a surge of affection for him. That image summed up Owen Palmer pretty well, I thought—powerful enough to tame dragons, but still sweet and even a bit vulnerable. If it hadn’t been for all the soot and the fact that he had a dragon looming over him, I would have hugged him.
Before I gave in to the temptation, I promised to check on him before his presentation and went back to the front of the main tent, where the customers had begun arriving. The sales staff were circulating and greeting their customers. Food and drink magically replenished themselves, and the nymphs collected empty plates and glasses.
Everything seemed to be going perfectly, but I couldn’t help noticing how many of the customers wore those colorful rubber bracelets or the anti-flu amulets. There was no telling how many of them were also carrying the smaller charms. If the Spellworks crowd did want to disrupt the conference, they had the people in place to do so. The question was, what would they do?
I saw a commotion near the entrance, and soon most of the attendees abandoned the food to head in that direction. It was like someone had sent up the Bat Signal—or was it all those charms kicking into action? I followed the crowd to see what was going on and found Ramsay, trailed by an entourage, glad-handing his way through the assembly area. You’d have thought he was a movie star from the way everyone acted. Several took photos with their cell phone cameras, and one guy even asked for an autograph.
It was enough to make my stomach churn. Why didn’t they see him the way I did?
On the other hand, why didn’t I see him the way they did? I had no actual evidence against him, just suspicion. I studied Ramsay and his fan club, looking for any sign of an influence spell. None of the worshippers had the tell-tale glassy eyes of a serious influence spell, but then the more subtle attraction spell Rod used to use hadn’t had that effect. How had I known Rod was using a spell? I tried to remember my early experiences in the magical world. I’d mostly noticed a discrepancy between the way I reacted to Rod and the way all other women did, as well as the discrepancy between their reaction and Rod’s appearance.
Based on that, I still couldn’t tell if Ramsay’s appeal was magical or ordinary. I certainly wasn’t under his spell, but I also hadn’t grown up in the magical world so that he’d been a lifelong hero to me. I hadn’t heard stories about him, didn’t know until recently that he’d once saved the magical world from evil rogue wizards.
Still, he just bugged me.
Someone suddenly grabbed my arm and pulled me into the green room, where the speakers went to get ready for their presentations. “He’s here,” Kim hissed at me.