Simply Irresistible Part 33

He had always wanted to be loved as freely as he loved. And, because he could touch Vivian's mind--or, more accurately, she could touch his-- he knew that she loved him as much as he loved her.

Ironic, because until now, he had not believed in love at first sight.

Perhaps his feelings for her had grown so quickly because they only had twenty-four hours in which to live a lifetime.

He tamped down that thought. Negative thoughts destroyed confidence in times of crisis. He'd learned that one the hard way.

This was the reason he hadn't wanted Vivian beside him. He would worry about her, and wouldn't be able to concentrate on the mission at hand.

He couldn't see Eris, but he'd felt her in that delicate magic. Not that she'd left a signature. Somehow she'd managed to filter out her signature from all her spells.

No. He recognized the spell as being as elegant as the one threaded into the rope, the one that caused the puppet to kidnap the Fates. The texture of the magic was the same.

As they figured out who their enemy was, she had found them. And he knew she wouldn't leave until she had what she wanted.

Somehow he had to protect the Fates from her. The Fates and Vivian.

He sat in his chair and used the cameras to scan the lawn again. He couldn't see anything. He closed his eyes and used his own magic, feeling for a strange presence.

Nothing.

Except the odd sensation that they weren't alone.

He opened his eyes. He had lied to Vivian about two things. There was an entrance into the hideaway from above ground, but it wasn't on the south lawn, and no one could crawl down it without being zapped by both his state-of-the-art security system (the kind designed for survivalists, paranoiacs, and other wackos) or by the handful of spells he'd left there to trip up the magical.

Every way down here was protected, but that wouldn't stop Eris. Her magic was so powerful, her mind so strong, that she'd figure out how to break in. Dex was under no illusions about his own powers. He was no match for a woman who had been practicing magic for around four thousand years.

He couldn't even call for help. He wasn't sure if the Quixotic gang was involved with Eris, since they'd let her in the restaurant, and his old magical friends were too far away. Besides, if he sent out a magical signal, Eris would feel it.

Instead, he would have to take a chance that had worked in the past. Eris would expect him to stay hidden, to play defense, protecting Vivian and the Fates.

Eris would never expect him--the weaker of the two of them by a considerable amount--to take the initiative.

The problem was, he'd only have one shot at this. But one shot was all he needed.

*Chapter Twenty-four*

Eris had tried everything. She had used tiny spells and large ones, important spells and half-forgotten spells, trying to reveal where the magic lived on Grant's property. She found nothing.

She stood just outside the ring of protection he had put around that dilapidated ranch house, her arms crossed. By now, Grant would know she was there. She'd tripped at least two traps, although she hadn't been caught in them, and she'd used enough magic to alert even the most inept mage.

She only had two more things to try before she could conclude that the house was just a house, with no magical hiding place anywhere nearby.

Eris had made an a.s.sumption, something she used to warn Strife about when he was a young mage-in-training. a.s.sumptions could be false. She had a.s.sumed, because Grant's property was so large, that he had placed his real living quarters somewhere else. She had also a.s.sumed they were large and spectacular and well protected.

But she based that a.s.sumption on the way she lived, not on the way he did. She had been around for a very long time and comfort was important to her, particularly after all those years of torture in the name of justice.

Dexter Grant was just a pup, and a male pup at that. Perhaps he had no interest in comfortable living or, like many male pups of the mortal persuasion, no idea how to take care of himself.

Eris wouldn't live in such a tiny home--her apartment on Central Park West had five bedrooms and three floors, and it was the smallest place she owned--but that didn't mean Grant wouldn't.

And if that was the case, then he had only added one or two spells to his protect spell. He'd put some kind of block on the house so that Eris couldn't sense any living creatures inside, and he had erected some kind of magical s.h.i.+eld spell so that most magic performed inside the house would be impossible to detect outside.

She doubted this last because she could trace the relocation spells. But he was weak enough that his abilities might not allow him to block magic that originated from the outside.

If these spells didn't work, she would have to see if he owned property elsewhere in the city, and had set this place up as a dodge.

Either way, she would have to dismantle his protect spell and go inside the house. She might be lucky and find Grant and Kineally inside, or she might have to do some searching through his personal papers or his computer to find out what else he owned.

Dismantling a protect spell wasn't something to be done lightly. And with as many traps as Grant had established outside the house, he was certain to have many more inside.

Eris would have to proceed with caution.

After all, she wouldn't put it past Grant to use the weak protect spell, the leftover relocation traces, and Eugenia's papers to lure Eris inside the house. The house itself might be a trap.

And it was up to her to disarm it.

Dex had left the bas.e.m.e.nt. Vivian knew the moment he had stepped out of the area. That sense she'd had of him, like the hum of a computer screen or background music played so softly that it only registered on the subconscious, had disappeared.

She felt alone again, like she had felt in Quixotic when he had taken the Fates to his so-called cave. Only this time, she didn't feel abandoned. There was a connection between them now, an understanding of each other that was so strong, Vivian could feel it even though Dex had physically moved away from her. She knew him now, almost as well as she knew herself, and he would do everything in his power to return.

He would also do everything he could to protect her. That was the part of this whole thing that worried her. She didn't know the details of his history, but she knew enough. Dex was the kind of man--or he had been until the Fates finally got through to him--who acted first and accepted the consequences later.

She sighed and continued sorting Aunt Eugenia's papers. Vivian didn't know what she was looking for, but she would know it when she found it. Maybe Aunt Eugenia had some insight into how to defeat Eris.

But if Aunt Eugenia had known that, why hadn't she used it? Why had she allowed Eris to kill her?

Something wasn't making sense, and that something centered around Aunt Eugenia. If only Vivian had listened to her. If only she had come up north for the training sooner, maybe none of this would have happened.

And then maybe she might not have met Dexter Grant.

Somehow she knew that, if they survived this, they would be a great team. One of those legendary teams, a couple who, while powerful as individuals, were stronger together than they were when they were apart.

Vivian glanced into the kitchen, where she had last seen him. She sent him all the warmth and love she had, even though she knew he probably couldn't feel it from this distance. That rock he had put in this bas.e.m.e.nt had probably blocked any chance of psychic communication, just like it blocked magic.

She resisted the urge to beg him to hurry back, just in case broadcast thoughts were getting through. She didn't want to distract him.

She had a hunch he would need all his concentration to make it through the night.

Dex wished he had made the elevator run silently. He had never planned for this contingency--that he would leave the safety of the bas.e.m.e.nt hideaway and return to the house to check out what he had seen. He'd always figured that whatever came through the elevator would attack him, not the other way around.

He could spell it silent once he rose above the protective rocks, but magic might draw more attention than the click-click-click of the gears as they moved.

He leaned against the hand railing, holding it tightly. He had his plan. Once he found Eris, he would use a binding spell, then immediately transport her to the Interim Fates. Not that those children would know what to do with her, but at least she'd be far away from him.

And the Interim Fates would have to do something with Eris, even if they had to consult the Powers That Be first.

Dex s.h.i.+fted from foot to foot. He was nervous. He hadn't been nervous in years. Of course, he hadn't done anything like this in years. He'd been a kitten superhero, not a real one. The only times he ever got a chance to use his skills had been when his old enemies sought him out.

But he was primed and ready now. The magic hovered on his fingertips, and the spell was in the forefront of his mind. One chance. One chance only, and he had to be careful. He couldn't set off the spell too early, couldn't jump at shadows. He had to be very precise.

Finally the elevator lurched to a stop. He took a deep breath and calmed himself. If he found her, he had a plan. If he didn't find her, he would at least rea.s.sure himself--and Vivian--that they were safe for the time being.

The elevator doors opened. Dex stepped into the darkened linen closet. He thought certain he had left the light on, but maybe force of habit had made him shut it off.

After all, he didn't want to point someone to his secret elevator. He opened the linen closet door and found the lights on in the hallway. His heart pounded. He had remembered this backward-- light on in the linen closet, off in the hallway. Funny how the mind played tricks.

The house was unusually silent without the animals in it. He didn't step into the hallway until he checked his s.h.i.+eld, traps, and protect spells that surrounded the house. All were intact.

He started for the kitchen when the linen closet door slammed behind him. He whirled, expecting to see an animal he had somehow missed in the mad dash for the bas.e.m.e.nt.

Instead he saw a tall black-haired woman, neatly dressed in a summer sweater and blue jeans. Even in such casual attire, she looked elegant and expensive.

Eris.

Even before Dex could send off the spell that hovered on his fingertips, his entire body went rigid. He tried to move but couldn't. He couldn't even move his lips to recite the spell.

She had captured him without saying a word, without moving a finger.

She had trapped him, and worse, she had seen him come out of the linen closet. He hadn't even closed the secret panel to the elevator.

Eris could get to his secret hiding place. She could get to Vivian.

And he wouldn't be able to stop her.

*Chapter Twenty-five*

Eris chuckled as she walked toward Dexter Grant. He was so much better looking in person than he had been in any of the photographs she'd seen. Hair so black it looked almost blue--and that dimple in his chin; how adorable was that?

If she'd known it was this easy to catch a superhero, she would have done so sooner.

"Lookee what I did," she said as she reached his side. "And I didn't even have any Kryptonite."

His lips twitched, and she knew what he wanted to say. He wasn't Superman. He had never been Superman, and there was no such thing as Kryptonite. Amazing the things people focused on. Amazing the things the mythmakers got wrong.

Eris understood because she had never been that interested in discord. 'Discord' was such a wimpy word. She thought it only one step up from 'disagreement', an even wimpier word. She and Dexter Grant were having a disagreement. There was discord between her and Dexter Grant.

Minor, minor words for minor, minor leaders.

She wasn't the G.o.ddess of Discord. She was the Master of Chaos. And she'd prove it just as soon as she made sure those pesky Fates were out of the way forever.

"You don't seem that formidable." Eris flicked Grant with her forefinger and he fell backward, a straight shot, as if he'd been attached to a board. His head narrowly missed the corner of the wall.

He landed with a whump and a whoosh. The whoosh was the one that pleased Eris most. She'd knocked his breath away. Literally.

"I at least expected a fight from you," Eris said. "One of those large good-versus-evil things you like so much, with plenty of fireb.a.l.l.s and lightning and wild magic. Of course, I have you pinned now, and eventually I will have to kill you."

His eyes had caught the light They were the only things on him that proved he was alive. Such fire in them. Such pa.s.sion. They were quite eloquent She could feel their defiance.

She sat down beside him, crossing her legs. "I will have to kill you, unless you tell me where your pretty little Miss Kineally is. Or we can skip over the nasty parts where I torture the powerless little psychic who hasn't come into her magic yet, showing her what the Fates did to me for two thousand years--as if starting a war was a crime! They were just angry at the way I exposed the pettiness of Hera, Athena, and Aphrodite. Who's the fairest of them all? And the napless Paris picks Helen, of course. Foolish man. It was his fault, after all, for picking a mortal woman over a mage. Not mine."

Dex was still glaring at her. She wished she could let him speak, but if he spoke, he could cast spells, and if he could cast spells, he might, just might, be able to hurt her. Better not to take that chance at all.

"Ah, yes. I was talking about skipping the nasty parts. Because you could just tell me where the Fates are and let me get underway."

Eris tapped her lips with a fingertip.

"That won't work, though, will it? Because you'll use that ploy done in a thousand movies. You'll lie to me and tell me whatever you think I want to know so that I'll unbind your mouth, and then you'll use that feeble magic on me. If you can. Looks like I'll just have to torture Ms. Kineally myself."

Dex's eyes narrowed. She could feel his anger. It made his body vibrate, and the vibrations were harming the integrity of the spell. Stubborn and strong. She wondered if he realized that he was messing with the harmonics of the binding spell.

Probably. Add smart to the equation. She strengthened the binding spell to accommodate his little temper tantrum and smoothed that pretty hair off his forehead.

"The real question, then, is do I go after Ms. Kineally while leaving you up here? I do like that elevator of yours. Your bunker must be buried deep, because I never would have found it from the outside. Or do I wait here with you until she comes up on her own, just to investigate?"

Eris leaned against the wall. Grant watched her, and she could tell he was hoping she'd wait, hoping that someone else would find them and rescue them, or that he'd figure out a way to escape in the hours that it took little Ms. Kineally to realize her big, strong man had deserted her.

"Hmmm," Eris said, dragging out the moment "I think I Kuwait. Much as I would like to see what you've done with your underground hideaway, I think it would be better if Ms. Kineally came to me. That way I don't have to disable any more spells and traps--good thinking, by the way, but you did forget to reinforce the point of origin for those spells. Or did no one ever tell you that the point of origin is always the weakest point, and can be entered by anyone if found?"

His eyes widened slightly. Fascinating. His mentor was as bad as they said he had been. Grant had learned much of this stuff on his own.

"Anyway, if I wait here," she said, "I can rest up and be at full force so that I can really make that little girl suffer. She did love her Aunt Eugenia, didn't she? Maybe I'll make your Vivian relive that death over and over again."

Eris held out her hand, studying her fingernails.

"Such choices facing me tonight. Psychological torture or physical torture? Or perhaps a mixture of both? I'll just have to see what my mood is when little Ms. Kineally comes through that linen closet door, crying, 'Dex, oh, Dex! Are you all right?"

Grant started. Apparently Eris's imitation of Kineally was as good as she had hoped it would be.

"Let's just sit here together you and I. I can tell you about my exploits, and you can tell me about yours. Oops! You can't, can you? My mistake. I'll just have to make diem up myself. Just think: your legacy in my hands. Maybe I'll even make your death a news story on KAHS. It is time the world learns of magic, don't you think? Imagine the problems that will bring. The 'discord' between the haves and have-nots."

Eris chuckled. "I'm having such fun." She continued to stroke his hair. "I hope you are too."

Vivian didn't like the feeling of unease that was building in her stomach. Her emotions had received so much exercise that day that she wasn't certain if her discomfort was coming from her own anxieties or from a true psychic sense that something was wrong.

She had repacked all Aunt Eugenia's boxes, leaving out only the notebooks that mentioned Eris. Vivian put the mythology books on top of the nearest box in case Dex wanted to look at them again.