Impractical Magic Part 25

"Go for it, son. Love is worth it."

"Thanks. I intend to." All he had to do was locate Rose. Somehow.

After several moments of companionable silence, Robin finally spoke. "Still want company?"

"Actually, no. I have some thinking to do." His life had changed. For better or worse, he'd never be the same again.

Once his father returned inside, no doubt eager to talk to his mother, Brand continued to the set and went through the routine of examining every facet necessary for his illusion. He'd make the moon disappear, all right. He would show the world that Brandon Goodfellow was still a great illusionist.

Who cared if Rose revealed his secrets afterward? Once this tour was over, he'd create an entire new repertoire of illusions. Bigger. Better. More impressive.

And he'd find Rose.

He knew her too well. She couldn't avoid him forever.He made his way to the stage and glanced up at the churning clouds. If the storm didn't clear by tomorrow, he'd be in trouble. But that wasn't important. Not now. d.a.m.n, he missed her. "Brand." Whirling around, he found Rose standing behind him, her hands on her hips. Before he could speak, she advanced on him, her eyes sparking. "You're going to listen to me, Brandon Goodfellow, or I swear I'm going to turn you into a rat." He smothered his smile. "I guess I'd better listen then." He'd listen, all right. And then she was going to listen to him.

Twenty.

Rose noticed the mischievous light in Brand's eye and the hint of a smile around his lips. What the h.e.l.l was going on?

This wasn't the reception she'd expected, especially after the way they'd parted.

But no matter what, he was going to hear about her expose.

"You're going to stay right there and read this article," she ordered.

His expression tightened for a moment, then cleared. To her surprise, he nodded. "Do I have a choice?" A strange note sounded in his voice-not anger, but not acceptance, either.

"No." She jammed her typewritten sheets into his hand. "And don't you dare tear it up again."

He didn't respond, but glanced at the papers. "Before I do I need to tell you something."

"What?" She had to force the single word from her tight throat.

"I'm not giving up-no matter what you've written here. I'll create new illusions. Better ones. I will survive."

"I know." She'd never doubted that, but his certainty gave her hope. Other talented magicians had survived her exposes-they'd grown, become even more spectacular. And Brand was the best of them all.

While he read, the line of his lips grew hard, the muscle in his jaw twitched, and Rose's stomach twisted into an unending knot. Would he understand? Would he forgive her?

She'd done what she'd had to do after wrestling with the most difficult decision of her life. Her job meant a lot to her, but she loved Brand. How could she possibly keep both?

Her expose revealed exactly how several of his illusions were accomplished-his ability to create fire on his palms, his clothing swap, his mind reading. But these were illusions that had become standard for him. He'd outgrown them.

She knew when he reached the end of her article, for he paused and glanced up at her. "This is what you turned in?" he asked, his voice quiet.

"It'll come out in next month's issue." Her mouth felt as if she'd swallowed an entire sand dune. His expression revealed nothing.

" 'But the illusions revealed above have been in Brandon Goodfellow's repertoire for the past several years and are more easily explained,' " Brand read. " 'However, his newer illusions, especially those of flying and making the moon disappear, defy explanation. Even after several weeks of observation, I was unable to discover the secrets to these incredible feats, giving validation to the claim that he is the world's greatest illusionist. Or else we have to accept that perhaps magic truly does exist.' "

Brand raised his gaze to hers. "You didn't give it all away."

"I couldn't." Though she'd been tempted for a moment, her sense of justice had prevailed. "Just because I found the papers on your moon illusion didn't mean I could use that information. I didn't solve the mystery. You gave it to me. That doesn't count."

"What about your editor, your promotion?"

Brand's tone remained even, his expression shuttered. What was going on behind that expressionless facade?

Rose shrugged. "Larry wasn't happy that I didn't get everything, but he accepted it."

"And the promotion?"

"I didn't get it." She'd expected as much when she didn't reveal all Brand's secrets, but that hadn't hurt as much as she'd expected. Brand's loss of trust had hurt far more. "But I don't have to write any more exposes, so I'm still ahead."

Folding the papers into a precise square, then making it vanish, Brand approached her, his gaze never leaving hers. Rose's heart filled her throat. "But you lied in this article," he said. "I thought you couldn't do that."

A common mistake her parents had made, too. Rose smiled. "I can't tell a lie, but I can write one. That's known as fiction."

His lips twitched. "You are most definitely one of a kind, Rose Thayer."

She could barely breathe. "Is that good or bad?"

He rested his hands on her shoulders. "Good," he murmured. "I wouldn't want you any other way."

"I doubt that." He'd made it clear that her magic would always stand between them.

"I mean it, Rose." He tightened his hold. "I've finally grown up."

Her pulse quickened. "What does that mean?"

"It means I've realized that the only reason I was jealous of your magic was because I was insecure in my own talent. Knowing you'd written this expose opened my eyes to many things. I may never be able to do all that you can, but I am a d.a.m.ned good magician. If you give away one of my illusions, I'll create another."

Her jaw dropped. What could she say to that? She'd known all along he was an incredible magician.

He grinned and tucked her hair behind her ear. "I also realized that I had probably thrown away the best thing to ever happen to me, and that was far worse than revealing all my secrets."

Her eyes widened. Did he mean ... ?

Sliding his hand behind her head, he drew her closer to him until his lips brushed hers as he spoke. "I love you, Rose."

Not giving her a chance to answer, he kissed her, echoing his words with a pa.s.sion that soared to every corner of her soul. He loved her.

Rose wrapped her arms around his neck, responding with an equal fervor.

He loved her!

Thunder rumbled overhead, but she wasn't sure if it came from her thudding heart or the threatening storm. Tears stung her eyes. She'd only hoped to gain his forgiveness. This ... this was beyond comprehension, beyond imagination.

This was magic.

Drawing away, he caught the tear that slid down her cheek on his fingertip and watched it change into a gleaming opal. He placed the gem in the palm of her hand and closed her fingers over it before lifting his gaze to hers. "I'm probably a poor comparison to the Fae, but none of them will ever love you the way I do. You've been a part of me since we were kids, even when I was too stupid to realize it."

"You're all I've ever wanted," she whispered. "Always."

An emotion she recognized lit his eyes-hope ... and love. With a groan, he pulled her into another kiss, sharing all he was through the mastery of his mouth. Her heart raced, her soul sang. If she'd leaked magic before, she felt certain it exploded from her at this moment.

The wind buffeted them, wild and strong, matching the surge of desire within her. "Are you sure?" she murmured. "About the magic?" Could he really accept that? He placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. "I'm far from perfect, Rose, but I know this. Your magic is a part of you. If I love you, then I love all of you. The magic, the bad jokes, and the s.e.xy dresses."

"And I-"

An explosion of thunder above interrupted her. They whirled around in time to see a spear of lightning stab the stage's backdrop. The force of it threw her and Brand to the ground as the wiring burst into flame.

By the time she could climb to her feet, the entire stage was engulfed with hungry flames. "Oh, my G.o.d."

Brand rushed for a fire extinguisher fastened to the burning wall. "I'll get it," he called to her.

Rose surveyed the fire, already whipped into a frenzy by the spiraling winds. More equipment exploded and she ducked, covering her head as a shower of spark and ash rained over her. This was going to take more than a single fire extinguisher.

She had to do something.

Jumping onto the stage, she faced the blaze and extended her hands, summoning every ounce of magic within her. Fighting nature always took more energy. Unless she acted quickly, this could reach a point where even she couldn't stop it.

Murmuring a spell, she focused on smothering the fire, forcing it to give up its hold on destruction. She felt the power leave her as the flames abated somewhat.

At a sudden loud noise she turned to see Brand dive to the ground as a tank of air exploded. Was he all right?

She stepped toward him, momentarily forgetting to keep her magic focused. "Brand?"

The stage cracked below her, hungry flames shooting up from below. She jumped back, only to have a side wall tumble toward her. She tried to toss up a shield around herself and failed. Too much energy had gone into fighting the power of nature.

Something smashed against the side of her head. Pain. Dizziness. She staggered to her knees, tried to rise. Fell. And succ.u.mbed to the blackness.

As he stood, Brand saw the board hit Rose and his heart filled his chest. She fell to the stage and remained still, a wall of flame only a short distance away. "Rose!"

He reached her in a few long steps and knelt beside her. "Rose?" Her pulse throbbed in her neck, but she remained unconscious, oblivious to the danger. The heat pulsated around him as he gathered her in his arms.

Rising, he felt the first stirrings of fear. In that short amount of time, the fire had surrounded them, devouring the stage and everything in its path. They were trapped.

A single thread of flame licked out, searing his hand, so that he almost dropped Rose. What now? What could he do?

He could see safety only a short distance away, yet the actuality of reaching it made it appear miles off. He tried to picture them standing there.

Shifting as the heat grew oppressive, he hugged Rose closer. Did she still leak magic? He'd never wanted it more in his life. "I wish we were safe," he muttered.

To his surprise, he found himself at the far end of the outdoor theater, chest aching, pulse racing, and a hot tingling p.r.i.c.kling through his veins. Rose's magic must have worked.

He lowered her to the ground and concentrated on reviving her. Did she have a concussion? Feeling gently, he located a b.u.mp on the side of her head. A b.u.mp was a good thing, right?

Did she have any magic left? "I wish you well."

The b.u.mp shrank beneath his fingers to disappear entirely, and he jerked back. Now, that was spooky.

Her eyes fluttered open, then focused. "Brand?" She blinked several times, then tried to sit up.

He eased her into position, his arm around her shoulders. "You okay?"

"I... I think so." She wrinkled her nose as a drop of rain plopped upon it. "What happened?"

"You were knocked unconscious. When I went to get you, the fire surrounded us." Brand kissed her forehead. "Good thing your magic is still leaking."

She frowned. "It's not leaking."

"Of course it is. There's no other way we could have gotten out of there." No illusion could have saved them.

'Trust me, Brand. I have no magic left to leak. All I have at the moment went into trying to stop the fire."

"But..." He glanced toward the stage. The rain fell harder now, drowning the fire, clouds of gray smoke drifting skyward, but the damage had been done. His set was destroyed. He wouldn't be doing his illusion tomorrow night. "How else could we have gotten here from there? I didn't do it."

Rose studied him for several long heartbeats. "Are you sure?"

She'd given him the ability to fly, not the total package. "What you're suggesting is impossible."

"I tend to believe in the impossible." Rose pushed to her feet and he followed. They watched the burning stage turn into a sodden mess of charred board and wire as the sound of too late sirens screamed in the distance. "Fix it, Brand."

"Fix it?" He stared at her. "Me?"

She touched his cheek, a gentle pressure of her fingers. 'Try."

He couldn't do it, but he'd humor her. He faced the stage. "I wish-"

"No. No wishes. Picture what you want. Reach deep inside yourself and draw on the power. You can feel it. It's like a tingling through your entire body."

A tingling? Like what he'd felt only minutes ago? Brand's gut twisted as he focused on the ruined set. Could she be right? He pictured the restored stage as he mentally reached out for ... what? ... magic?

He gasped at the sudden rush of heat and sizzle through his veins, staggering backward a step as it shot out of him. For a moment he imagined he could see it-a sparkling shimmer in the air.

And the stage changed in an instant.

All trace of the fire disappeared. The stage, the walls, the curtains all appeared untouched, as pristine as when he'd first strolled through it. This couldn't be happening.

He blinked, rubbed his eyes, and looked again.

Everything had been restored.