Calculated Magic Page 3

  Ry raised his mug. “That’s because they have never met you.”

  Tikron clinked his mug against Ry’s. Not so much because he agreed with him, but Ry was smiling and enjoying his food and teasing Tikron. As long as Ry was doing that, he wouldn’t be ribbing Tikron about Richard—curly-haired, gorgeous, hazel-eyed Richard, who Tikron planned to learn a lot more about in the very near future.

  Of course, Ry might have a bit of an issue with being scatterbrained, but Tikron should have known the man would rarely pass up a chance to goad him. Ry took the opportunity the instant the now-pouting waitress walked away after serving their meals.

  “So this geek at the bakery….” Ry took a bite of his burger; the egg yolk ran down his chin.

  “Christ, for a man with impeccable style, you sure lack on eating manners.” Tikron threw his napkin at Ry, who caught it easily. “Wipe your chin.”

  Ry used the napkin but ignored the dig, because he continued talking with his mouth full. “You had that smitten look on your face when you were staring at that geek. I haven’t seen you so interested in a guy since… since…. Damn, what was that thug’s name?”

  Tikron frowned. “Thug?”

  “Yeah, you know. That gangster guy. The one who had a pink hankie in his pocket and liked to twirl his pocket watch.”

  It took a moment for Tikron to search his past. Considering he’d been around for over three hundred years, trying to recall a single man among the list of ones he’d been smitten with was like trying to find a particular seashell in the ocean. Okay, maybe it wasn’t that vast, but it was a hell of a list.

  “Henry or something like that,” Ry prompted.

  “Henrik!” Tikron hooted. “Oh shit, I haven’t thought about him in years.” Eighty, to be exact. Henrik had been a wannabee gangster, but he hadn’t had a mean bone in his body. He played a great act, but when it came down to it, he was a pussycat. “He most certainly was not a thug.”

  “Well, he dressed like one,” Ry insisted.

  “You’re seriously critiquing his clothing? It was the 1920s. Double-breasted pinstripe suits were all the rage,” Tikron reminded him.

  “It was ill-fitting, and with that high-pitched squeal he did every time he saw you….” Ry shook his head. “I still don’t understand what you saw in him. You certainly have some strange taste at times.”

  “You’re right. He wasn’t the sharpest dresser, and he could be a little annoying at times—”

  “A lot annoying.”

  “Fine, a lot annoying,” Tikron conceded. “However, he also had the most impressive manly bits, and he knew how to use what he’d been gifted.”

  Ry rolled his eyes, but Tikron just smiled smugly in response. He had been quite attracted to the wannabe gangster mainly because the guy exuded happiness, and the fact Henrik was awesome in bed had been the cherry on the top. The old memories caused a twinge of sadness to descend over Tikron. Henrik had come on to the wrong man and had been gunned down. It had been during a time when being gay could get a person killed. Sadly, that fact was still true in some places eighty years later. Immortality did have its downside. Watching friends and loved ones grow old and having to continue to exist after their deaths was something he’d never gotten used to and never would. Maybe he was a fool for even trying to find a solution to counter the curse. Perhaps it was time to accept his fate and just let the inevitable happen. No more heartache sounded like a pretty good gig, even if it came with a dirt nap.

  “Oh hell no you don’t!”

  Tikron looked up from his plate and blinked at Ry.

  Ry pointed a finger at him. “Don’t you dare even consider checking out on me. I will kick your ass.” Tikron gawked at him. Had Ry really figured out a way to read people’s minds? “I know that look. Whenever you start thinking about the people you’ve lost, you get it, and I’m telling you, I will kick your ass!” Ry’s voice rose with each word he spoke.

  Tikron was relieved his friend hadn’t picked up a new talent, but he also felt guilty as hell for causing the sadness he saw in Ry’s eyes. “All right, all right, simmer down. I’m not planning to check out tonight. I mean, I’d be a fool considering you promised me a blowjob for dessert,” he said to lighten the mood.

  Ry sat back in his chair, taking his beer with him. “I don’t know if you deserve one.”

  “Are you seriously going to welsh on our deal? Low, man, low.”

  “I’ll make you a new one, and I’m being very generous considering the damper you put on my good mood.”

  Tikron took a long pull from his own beer, then wiped the back of his hand across his mouth. “Let’s hear it.”

  “I’ll blow you if you’ll blow me,” Ry said. A sly grin curled his lip.

  Tikron held out his beer. “Sounds like a win-win to me.”

  Ry clinked his bottle against Tikron’s. “You’re welcome.”

  The atmosphere swirling around them lighter, Tikron went back to enjoying his burger and brew. A lingering sadness stayed inside him, but he pushed it down. He hadn’t lied to Ry; Tikron didn’t plan on checking out tonight. He had thirty days to consider his options, and in the end, he might actually be able to keep his promise. He wouldn’t be the one doing it, but he’d be taken out. Problem solved.

  Oh, the voodoo that you do

  Chapter Four

  EYES closed, arms stretched out, Ry appeared to be in a trance as he chanted, “Anhe. Mhatta. Tu Y. Yakat Untzy.”

  Before him was a silver bowl filled with various bones, herbs, wood shards, emeralds, and several other items, including a small rolled-up piece of paper. Tikron recognized the incantation and the ingredients immediately and moved fast. He swiped his arm over the altar, sending everything flying. “What the hell are you doing?”

  Ry blinked at Tikron several times, his eyes unfocused, his powers holding him for the briefest of moments. Finally he shook his head and scowled at Tikron. “What does it look like?”

  “A love spell? Seriously, Ry? I have just one question for you. Are you insane?”

  “Quite possibly, but that’s neither here nor there. We have twenty-nine days to get someone to fall in love with your silly ass, and I don’t see a whole lot of potential candidates banging down your door.”

  Tikron ran his fingers through his hair to the back of his neck, rubbing at the tense muscles. “I’m fully aware of the time constraints, Ry. But you can’t use magic.”

  “What’s the worst that can happen? If you have a better idea….”

  “I don’t, but”—Tikron nodded toward the mess on the floor—“that’s not going to work.”

  Ry crossed his arms over his chest, a defiant expression on his face. “I don’t see why you won’t at least try.”

  Tikron went to him and laid a hand on Ry’s shoulder. “Look, I appreciate what you’re trying to do, I really do. But we can’t use magic. The person has to fall in love with me of their own free will. It’s a waste of time to try and fool Mysdus. It’s not only foolish, it could have grave consequences. Literally.”

  Ry stayed rigid for a few more seconds before slumping and letting out a heavy sigh. “Why did you have to wait until the last minute?” he asked once again, his voice barely above a whisper.

  Tikron pulled Ry into a tight embrace. “I have a million excuses as to why, but not a single one seems very damn good right now.”

  Ry buried his face in the side of Tikron’s neck. “This sucks, and worse, I don’t know what to do. Tell me what I’m supposed to do, Tikron?”

  Tikron held him; it was all he could do. He didn’t have the answers. He’d spent hours before dawn lying in bed thinking about the situation he was in. As simple as it would be to let Mysdus dole out his deadly threat, Tikron didn’t want to die, and honestly, he was just as scared as Ry. More so for Ry. Tikron couldn’t imagine what he’d do if the roles were reversed. He couldn’t even comprehend a life without Ry.

  They’d been best friends for over a century. They’d met in Richmond dur
ing one the darkest periods of Tikron’s long life, part of his past he refused to think about. Ry was the good that came out of it, and Tikron focused on that rather than the circumstances that brought them together. Tikron hadn’t thought he’d be able to come back after the devastation, but against all the odds, he had. There was still a slight chance he’d overcome this as well.

  Tikron grabbed Ry’s shoulder and met his gaze. “I don’t know what we’re going to do, but I do know I’m not ready to give up. Are you?”

  “No.”

  Tikron smiled. “Good. Now let’s get this mess cleaned up and figure out what our next move is.” He squeezed Ry tight one more time, then released him.

  Silently, they cleaned up the mess. Ry swept the floor and dumped the last of the spell ingredients in the trash. Then he and Tikron took a seat at the dining room table with a couple of cold sodas and a stack of books they still had to go through. “How’d it go at the bakery?” Ry asked.

  Tikron tilted his head. “How in the hell did you know I went there?”

  “Would you stop pretending like I don’t know you? It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out you’d go hoping to see geek boy again. Plus”—Ry nodded toward Tikron—“you have powdered sugar on your shirt.”

  Tikron looked down and chuckled as he wiped away the evidence. “Fine. I’ll concede you know me if you’ll stop calling him that.”

  “What? I’m not calling him names. He is a geek, and compared to us, he is a boy. And I don’t have to make any deals. You may not want to admit it, but I know you better than anyone. Maybe better than you know yourself.”

  Tikron waved a dismissive hand. “Yeah, yeah, yeah.”

  “So…,” Ry prompted.

  “He wasn’t there. It’s as if he’s invisible. I asked around, and apparently he comes in, orders coffee—black—ice water, and a bran muffin every time. The only other thing they seem to know about him is that his name is Richard.”

  “Maybe he’s new to the place.”

  “Nope, that’s the weird part. I talked to one of the employees, and she said he’s been coming in for over a year. She used to try to make small talk with him but gave up. The rest of the staff did too. They serve him, then leave him alone.”

  Ry tipped his soda back, taking a big gulp, then grabbed a book. “Sounds like he’s the real life of the party.”

  “I think he’s lonely.”

  “I heard what he told you, and I quote, I’m alone by choice. I think that makes him a hermit, not lonely.”

  Tikron picked at the label on his bottle. He didn’t take a drink, his mind suddenly in another place. He’d seen something in Richard’s eyes. At the time Tikron wasn’t sure what it was or why he was drawn to the man. Now, after learning a little more about Richard, Tikron was convinced it had been loneliness. Regardless of what Richard had said about it being his choice, Tikron didn’t believe it. “There was a connection, at least on my end, and I want to find out what it meant or could mean. I’d like to get to know him.”

  “The guy sounded pretty adamant that he didn’t want to give you the time of day,” Ry pointed out.

  “Why you want to mash my buzz?”

  “That’s harsh my buzz. If you’re going to use the current lingo, you really should make sure you’re using it correctly.”

  “Harsh? Are you sure? That doesn’t make any sense.”

  “Yes, I’m quite sure.” Ry shrugged. “Most things the kids say these days don’t make sense.”

  Tikron raised his bottle. “I’ll drink to that.”

  Ry clinked his soda against Tikron’s. He took a long pull, then tapped the book in front of him. “All right, let’s get this figured out.”

  RICHARD sat cross-legged next to the glass patio door, staring out at the night sky, Albert curled up in his lap. Richard ran his hand down from Albert’s neck to his rump, repeating the movement over and over. The repetition was calming, and the warm fur against his palm soothed him. Still, no matter how he tried to focus on something, the night before kept popping into his mind. He analyzed every detail, every word he spoke and those that had been spoken to him. He questioned his responses, his behavior, and vital statistics—increased pulse, clammy palms, above normal respiration rate. He ran different scenarios through his mind. He could have said this, should have said that. It was driving him mad. Why did he care about a different interaction, a different outcome? Why was he even sparing a second of thought for Tikron Amorith? He wasn’t Richard’s type, and even if he were, the past couldn’t be undone. He’d shot the man’s advances down. That was that.

  “I think I may be losing my mind, Albert.”

  Albert looked up at him with big brown eyes, blinked, then hopped off Richard’s lap and walked away. Seconds later, Richard could hear the dog lapping water from his dish. Richard was most certainly going crazy. If talking to a dog wasn’t proof enough, then the fact that he was hurt that Albert walked away without responding surely was.

  He needed to call his mom. He could always count on her to give him sound no-nonsense advice. He checked his watch—8:10. Mom would be sitting in her chair reading while Dad got his nightly one-hour fix of National Geographic. Richard pushed to his feet. After making himself some valerian root tea, he grabbed his cell phone and found a comfortable position on the couch. He dialed the familiar number.

  It rang twice before he heard her voice. “Hello, son.”

  “Hello. Did I catch you at a bad time?”

  “Son, why must you ask me that each and every time you call? It should be quite evident since I have apparently answered the call. Secondly, since I answered in a generic manner rather than informing you of the timing, you can conclude that it is, in fact, an appropriate time.”

  “I ask so you have to repeat that response.”

  “For what purpose?”

  Entertainment. “No reason.”

  “Then shall we get to the reason behind your call?” she asked without a hint of humor.

  “How’s Dad?”

  “He’s well.”

  “Very good. Can I ask you a personal question?”

  “Yes.”

  Richard stirred his tea, the scent wafting up already doing its magic, relaxing him. He took a sip. “Did you ever consider anyone other than Dad? You know, as a suitor?” He took another sip.

  “No.”

  “Not even in high school?”

  “No,” Mom said curtly.

  “What about grade school? Surely you must have had a crush.”

  “I don’t recall anyone who stood out, but I suppose it’s possible. Why the sudden interest in my adolescent behavior?”

  Richard took another sip of tea while he briefly considered her question. He had no idea what he was hoping to learn. Validation, perhaps? He certainly didn’t want any details if there had been someone. He finally settled on telling her the truth.

  “I met someone last night.”

  “A colleague?”

  “Not really.”

  “Richard, either they are or they are not.”

  “He’s not. I was at the bakery last night, and a man hit on me. At least, I think he did. He asked me to join him and his friend for dinner. I declined. He then asked me for my phone number, which of course I did not give him. He was one of those all brawn and no brains kind of fellow. Certainly not my type. However, I find my mind constantly wanders to the interaction, and I’m having a difficult time focusing.”

  “Did this interaction produce an erection?”

  “Mother!”

  “I am simply trying to help you discover the reason behind your difficulties in focusing. An erection is usually the most prominent and reliable sign of sexual arousal in males. Now, did you have any other physiological responses, such as increased heart rate or blood pressure?”

  “I didn’t take my blood pressure.” Richard was beginning to question the soundness of his decision to call his mom. It was becoming awkward.

  “Just a moment, son, your
father asked a question.”

  Richard took a drink of his tea and choked on it when his mother said, “Richard has experienced sexual stimuli to someone outside his normal parameters of attraction.”

  Richard wiped the tea from his chin and shirt. “Jesus, Mother. Do you have to put it like that?”

  “Yes, I’ll ask him. Your father wants to know if you have questioned your motivation?”

  “My what?”

  “Your sexual motivation. Toates’s incentive motivation model of sex suggests that incentive cues in the environment invade the nervous system, which results in sexual motivation. Positive sexual experiences enhance motivation, while negative experiences reduce it. Perhaps this gentleman wore something or behaved in such a manner which triggered a past sexual experience that was positive.”

  “Oh. Dear. God. I merely asked about a crush you may have had and how you dealt with it. I don’t need a lecture on human sexuality.”

  “But you said—”

  “Yes, I know what I said, but I just realized I can handle my difficulty in focusing on my own. Thank you for your help.”

  “You’re welcome, son. I’m always here to help.”

  Richard quickly hit the End button and threw the cell on the side table in disgust. That had to have been the most awkward conversation he’d ever had with his mother. At the first sign of puberty, she’d handed him a journal from the University of Maryland Medical Center with an article called “Puberty and Adolescence.” That was the extent of “the talk” that most young teens get. He’d wanted a no-nonsense bit of advice, and he damn sure got what he’d asked for. However, as painfully uncomfortable as tonight’s conversation had been, Mom had pointed out something Richard hadn’t considered.

  Perhaps he was projecting some past sexual response on Tikron. He had very little experience to draw from, but he must have subconsciously connected the two events.

  Albert hopped on the couch, spun around three times, then collapsed. His head rested on Richard’s lap. Richard stroked the silky fur behind Albert’s ears. “Now that that mess is cleared up, maybe my only abnormal behavior is talking to dogs.” Albert yawned and closed his eyes. Richard chuckled. He could live with that kind of crazy.