Page 53 of The Rising Tide
The two of them nodded, and Scout drew a quiet breath of relief. The truth was, hefeltthe gateway created by the spinning rings, but he couldn’t see it. The crowd could see it—they were gasping in appreciation. And the gangsters could see it, but they didn’t believe what they were seeing.
But Scout was standing at a ninety-degree angle to it, and all he could do was have a little faith that this was going to work.
“Then walk right in!” Scout urged. “Don’t be shy. Come see what’s on the other side!”
“It’s an illusion!” one of the men—the man with the beard—snarled. “I’ll prove it to you! Come on!”
Three steps: one, two, three.
The two men disappeared, and the rings spun apart, giving Scout and Piers barely enough warning to catch them, two for Scout and one for Piers, as they came raining down.
In the gasp of silence that followed, Scout flipped one of the chrome rings in the air and let it come down and merge with the other. “Ta-da!” he said, wiping his brow with the back of his hand.
The crowd didn’t stop applauding for nearly half an hour.
SCOUT HADto work the counter with Marcus afterward, and his hands shook with the need to talk to Lucky.
“You’re sure he’s still there?” he asked Piers about forty-five minutes into his shift as Piers loitered back near the register and stayed out of the way.
“Yes,” Piers said patiently for the twelfth time. “Larissa said they were slammed too. He’s not going anywhere. Who were those guys?”
“I saw your act!” gushed the woman at the counter buying a deck ofSupernaturalTarot cards. “Where did those guys go?”
“Only the magic knows!” Scout replied glibly, and it was damned near the truth. The magic had chosen the spot, but that didn’t mean Scout hadn’t gotten a glimpse of it as the rings had split up and gone whirling through the air. He finished her transaction and put the cards in a bag adorned with silver planets and stars, winking. “And maybe the cards if you ask them.”
She laughed delightedly. “The cards are for my daughter, but maybe she’ll get a straight answer!” she said as she walked away, her curly brown hair as fiercely dandelion-like as Scout’s in the humidity. He felt a moment’s fondness for her, and for the other plumpish, wifeish tourists who came into the shop looking for a bit of magic. They could often be the sweetest part of his day.
“Does the magicknowwhere those guys are?” Piers asked, whispering fiercely as Scout turned away from the line for a second to get a drink of water.
“The magic’s got a pretty good idea,” Scout muttered back. “I need to call my brother to make sure.”
“I mean, you didn’t drop them in the middle of the ocean, did you?” Piers asked, looking worried.
“The Atlantic in October?” Scout retorted, horrified. “I’m not that kind of magician!”
Piers let out a relieved breath, and Scout turned toward the next customer, feeling panic in his chest. He reallydidneed to call Josue, but first he needed to see Lucky!
Finally, finally, the last ferry left, and the long shadows stretched toward the east. Marcus gave him a grim look and said, “Meeting, your apartment. Helen and I will bring dinner!” and then nodded to him to leave.
Scout practically flew along the sidewalk to the book-and-coffee shop, finding Helen waiting on the last few customers of the day and Lucky bussing a full tub of glassware to the back for washing.
“Let me take that,” he said, when he realized Lucky was about to drop it because he was staring so hungrily at Scout his hands had forgotten their jobs.
“And let me take that from you,” Piers murmured, and Scout gave it to him almost reflexively, grateful for his friend—definitely a friend now, right?—as he hadn’t known he could be.
Once Piers had gone to the back with the tub, Lucky grabbed Scout’s hand and hauled him to the opposite end of the store, to the back of the bookshelves in a dark and quiet corner that only locals seemed to gravitate to, but they were all gone for the night.
“The hell was that?” Lucky asked Scout, but that was before Scout had his hands on Lucky’s cheeks and was kissing him stupid. Lucky gave in immediately, all his fight obviously for show.
Ah! His taste, his smell! How could Scout keep going without it? How could magic exist if Lucky wasn’t there in his world,makingthings magic in Scout’s brain. Before, when it had been the mere dream of a Lucky, that had been enough to sustain him. But now? Scout needed him like fire needed fuel and fish needed wet.
He pulled away roughly, needing Lucky to answer him. “You’re staying, right? They’re gone. You can stay. You’re not running, right?”
“Not running,” Lucky panted. “Staying. Felt the coin burn. I was gonna talk to ya, I swear. Wasn’t goin’ nowhere.” They leaned foreheads together while they both tried to master their breathing.
“Promise?” Scout begged. “You promise? You weren’t gonna leave me?”
Lucky nodded and smoothed Scout’s hair back from his forehead. “It’s a mess,” he muttered. “My God, you must have been sweating up a storm.”
