Spellbinder (18 page)

"I . . ." Eric's voice was thick and hesitant. "I... Blaise . . ." He couldn't seem to get started on a sentence.

And no wonder. He's lost already.

Certainty hit Thea, and she stopped shaking her plastic bottle. Her little Elixir of Abhorrence didn't stand a chance against Blaise's magic. Eric was hooked and Blaise was reeling him in.

And it wasn't his fault. Nobody could be expected to hold out against the kind of enchantment Blaise was using. Enchantment and psychology so beautifully mixed that even Thea found herself half believing Blaise's story.

But she had to try anyway. She couldn't let Eric go without a fight.

With one final, violent shake, Thea took her thumb out of the bottle neck. Colorless liquid skyrocketed, spraying up and then raining down on Eric.
A geyser of loathing.

Only one thing went wrong. As soon as the mysterious downpour hit Eric, he turned to see where it was coming from. Instead of looking at Blaise when the elixir soaked into his skin, he was looking at Thea.

She stared back into his gray-flecked eyes with a kind of horror.

Twice.
He'd been twice enchanted now, once to love Blaise and once to hate her.

Oh, Eileithyia, it's over. . . .

It was a crisis, and Thea responded instinctively. She reached for Eric, to save him, to be saved
herself
.

She flung out a thought the way she'd fling out a hand to someone going over a cliff.

Eric.

A connection . . .

Like dosing a circuit-and that was all it took. Thea felt a wave of ... something, something hot and sweet, more magical than Blaise's magic.
Distilled lightning, maybe.
The air between her and Eric was so charged that she felt as though her skin was being brushed with velvet. It was like being at the intersection of cosmic force lines.

And it was all okay. Eric's face was his ordinary face.
Alive, alert, full of warmth-for her.
Not zombie worship for Blaise.

Thea.

It can't be this simple.

But it was. She and Eric were staring at each other in the quivering air and the universe was just one big singing crystal.

We're right together.

A yell shattered the silent communion. Thea looked toward the dugout and saw that Blaise the vulnerable had disappeared.

"I'm wet," Blaise shrieked. "Are you crazy? Do you have any idea what water drops do to silk?"

Thea opened her mouth,
then
shut it again. She felt giddy with the sweetness of relief. She had no idea if Blaise really thought the elixir was only water-but one thing was clear. However strong Blaise's spell had been, it was broken now. And Blaise knew it.

Blaise jerked the zipper up and stalked off.

"She's mad," Eric said.

"Well ..." Thea was still dizzy. "I told you she likes getting mad." She took Eric's arm, very gently, and partly to steady herself. "Let's go."

They'd only gone a few steps when Eric said, "Thank God you hit me with that water."

"Yes." Even if the elixir hadn't worked it had somehow broken Eric's concentration or distracted Blaise or something. She'd have to see if she could figure out what had happened to disrupt a spell as potent as the one Blaise had created. . . .

"Yeah, because, you know, it was getting really awkward," Eric went on. "I kept trying to think of a polite way to tell her there wasn't a chance, but I couldn't. And just when I realized I was going to have to say it and hurt her feelings-well, you soaked us."

Thea stopped dead. She stared at him. He was serious.

"I mean-I know I hurt her feelings anyway. Or she wouldn't have gone away mad. Uh, are you mad now?
Thea?"

She started walking again. "Are you saying you didn't even want to be with her? Not even just a little?"

He stopped. "How could I want to be with her when I want to be with you? I told you that before this whole thing started."

Maybe it's because we're soulmates. Maybe it's because he's so stubborn. But, whatever, I'd better never tell Blaise. She'll have a whole new reason for killing

him
if she finds out her spell bounced off like water off a duck.

"Well, anyway, it's resolved now," she murmured-and at that moment she really believed it. She was too happy to think about anything dreadful.

"Is it? Does that mean that we can finally go out? Like on a date?"

He sounded so wistful that Thea laughed. She felt light and free and full of energy.
"Yeah.
We could go right now. Or ... we could go in. Your house, I mean. I'd like to see your sister and Madame Curie again."

Eric made an "ouch" face. "Well, Madame Curie would probably like that. But Roz lost her case- the court ruled that the Boy Trekkers are a private organization. And she is not-pardon the pun-a happy camper."

"All the more reason we should go see her.
Poor kid."

Eric looked at her quizzically. "You're serious? You have a choice of anywhere in
Las Vegas
and you'd like to go to my house?"

"Why not?"
Thea didn't mention that a human house was more exotic to her than anywhere else in Vegas.

She was happy.

It turned out to be a modest frame house, shaded by a couple of honest-to-goodness trees, not palms. Thea felt a twinge of shyness as they went inside.

"Mom's still at work. And"-Eric checked his watch-"Roz is supposed to be in her room until five.

Home detention.
This morning she microwaved her

Barbie dolls."

"That doesn't sound good for the microwave." Rosamund's door was plastered with homemade

Signs.
DO NOT ENTER. KEEP OUT AND THIS MEANS ERIC. FEMINISM IS THE RADICAL NOTION THAT WOMEN ARE PEOPLE.

When Eric opened the door a piggy bank shaped like a skunk
came
flying toward him. He ducked. It hit the wall and, amazingly, didn't break.

"Roz-"

"I hate everybody! And everybody hates me!" A hardback book
came
soaring.

Eric shut the door fast. Bang.

"Everybody doesn't hate you!" he yelled.

"Well, I hate them! Go away!"

Bang. Bang.
Crash.

"I think maybe we'd better leave her alone," Eric said. "She gets a little moody sometimes. Want to see my room?"

His room was nice, Thea decided.
Lots of books, some smelling of mildew-"I get them at the used book stores."
Comparative Vertebrate Anatomy.
Development and Structure of the Fetal Pig.
The Red Pony.
Most of them were about animals in some form or other.

And lots of trophies.
Baseball trophies, basketball trophies, a few tennis trophies.
"I have to switch between baseball and tennis different years." Sports equipment was scattered carelessly
around,
mixed with the books and some dirty socks.

Not so different from a teenager's room in the Night World.
Just a person's room.

There was a picture of a man on the desk, a man

with
sandy hair and a glorious, lightning-bolt smile like Eric's.

"Who is it?"

"My dad.
He died when Roz was little-a plane crash. He was a pilot." Eric said it simply, but his eyes went dark.

Thea said softly, "My parents died when I was little, too. What's sad is that I don't really remember them."

Eric looked at the picture again. "You know, I never thought about it, but I'm glad I do remember. At least we had him that long."

They smiled at each other.

By the bed was a tank that gave off a pleasant percolating sound. Thea sat next to it and watched iridescent blue fish dart around. She turned off the bedside lamp to see the lighted tank better.

"You like it?"

"I like everything," Thea said. She looked at him.
"Everything."

Eric blinked. He eyed the bed Thea was sitting on,
then
slowly sat at the desk. He stuck out a casual elbow to lean on and papers showered to the floor.

"Oops."

Thea stifled a laugh. "Is that the U.C. Davis application?"

He looked up hopefully from gathering them. "It sure is. Want to see it?"

Thea almost said yes. She was in such a cheerful mood, ready to agree to anything, be open to anything. But a moment of thought changed her mind. Some things were just going too far.

"Not right now, thanks."

"Well . . ."He put the papers back. "You know, you still might think about transferring to the zoology class at school. Ms. Gasparro is a great teacher. And you'd really like what we're studying."

Maybe I could, Thea thought. What would it hurt?

"And if you were ever interested. Dr. Salinger is always looking for extra help. It doesn't pay much, but
it's
good experience."

And . . . what would that hurt? It's not as if I would be breaking any laws. I wouldn't have to use any powers,
either,
I could just be close to the animals.

"I'll think about it," she said. She could hear the suppressed excitement in her own voice. She looked at Eric, who was sitting with his elbows on his knees, leaning forward, watching her earnestly. "And- thanks," she said softly.
"For what?"

"For . . . wanting the best for me.
For caring."
The light from the fish tank threw wavering blue patterns on the walls and ceiling. It made the bedroom seem like its own little underwater world. It danced over Thea's skin.

Eric stared at her. Then he swallowed and shut his eyes. With his eyes still shut, he said in a muted voice, "I don't think you know how much I care." Then he looked at her.

That connection again.
It seemed to be drawing them together-an almost physical feeling of attraction. It was exciting, but scary.

Eric got up very slowly and crossed the room. He sat by Thea. Neither of them looked away.

And then things just seemed to happen by themselves. Their fingers were intertwined. Thea was looking up and he was looking down. They were so close that their breath mingled. Thea shivered with the electricity.

Everything seemed wrapped in a golden haze.

Crash.

Something hit the other side of the wall.

"Ignore it; it's poltergeists," Eric murmured. His lips were an inch from hers.

"It's Rosamund," Thea murmured back. "She feels bad-and it's not really fair. We should try and make her feel better." She was so happy that she wanted everyone else to be happy, too.