Spell of the Highlander
Page 32

Before she could utter another word, he grappled with the handle, opened the door, and stepped out. Or rather uncramped and unfolded himself onto the pavement, closing the door behind him.
For a man from the ninth century, he sure seemed to know a lot about modern-day things, she mused, though it seemed to be from having observed them, not from having interacted with them. When he’d first gotten in, he’d examined everything, twisting knobs and pushing buttons. He’d even eyed the steering wheel consideringly. Fortunately, he’d seemed to think better of it. Unfortunately, she didn’t think his restraint would last long. He liked to be the one in charge.
“You will not look at me,” she heard him say to the valets. “You will see only her.” A silence. Then, “And you will not look at her breasts.”
Jessi blinked and burst out laughing. The man was such a Neanderthal! Like her breasts were his or something! What did he think—that the valets would just dutifully obey him as Mark had?
She had news for him: He wasn’t that impressive.
“You’re not that impressive,” she said, stepping from the car and casting a dry look across the roof.
Five valets stood around the car, looking at her, and only at her, and only at her face.
“May we take your luggage, ma’am?” one of them said, looking her dead in the eye.
Men rarely did that. At least not at first. She smoothed her pink sweater down and took a slow, luxuriatingly deep breath. That always worked.
Five gazes remained fixed on her face.
She glanced down; they were still there, round and perky and obvious as ever. Mystified, she said, “No luggage,” and removed her car key from the key ring.
Cian moved to the rear of the car and began unstrapping the mirror.
“We can’t take that in with us!” Belatedly, she realized it would have been much smarter to go to some seedy No-Tell Motel way out on the outskirts. But the Sheraton down on the lake was the only hotel she’d ever stayed in (during an archaeology seminar last summer), and when they’d left campus, she’d headed for it, driving on a sort of bemused autopilot, far too busy defending her driving skills to be thinking clearly. Getting him into a room without causing a memorable stir was going to be difficult enough. They needed to be inconspicuous. Taking the mirror in with them just wasn’t possible. Then again, she thought, frowning, they could hardly leave it in the car, either.
Again, he merely said, “Leave it to me, woman.”
It was then that she realized, with a sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach, that it was only a matter of time before the police came and arrested her.
As if a grim portent, a few blocks down the street a police siren began to sound.
She shivered.
Oh yeah. Only a matter of time.
He still had it. Bloody hell, he still had it!
There was nothing wrong with him. There was something wrong with her.
Mirror beneath one arm, the other wrapped around his woman, he steered her into the brilliantly lit, polished, and gleaming lodgings.
Christ, it felt good to walk free! And to walk free with such a beautiful woman on his arm? ’Twas heaven to be alive.
Even hunted. Even knowing what lay ahead. ’Twas far more than he’d thought he’d get at such a late hour in the game.
Her city seemed much like what he’d seen of London, with insignificant differences. Both enormous, both massively populated, frenetic with cars and people rushing to and fro, but her city had taller buildings than aught he’d glimpsed from Lucan’s study.
He continued tossing out commands in Voice as they strode into the lodgings she’d selected. Doona look at us. Move out of my way. Do not notice the mirror. We are not here.
Memory spells were extremely complicated and could cause terrible, irreversible damage if done wrong. ’Twas easier to turn eyes away than attempt to make people forget.
Still, nonspecific commands such as “we are not here” weren’t truly effective. They served mostly to gloss things over a bit, make events seem dimmer. For Voice to be truly compelling, the commands needed to be concise, precise. Commands too vague or complicated could get messy. Orders strongly counter to a person’s fundamental beliefs could cause intense pain.
“Why don’t you just stand here and I’ll go get a room?” She tipped her head back and looked up at him. “And you don’t have to hold on to me,” she added peevishly. “I don’t have anywhere else to go.”
He smiled. He liked that. “Where?”
“‘Where’ what?”
“Where does one ‘get a room’?”