A tingle crossed between them, like a spark of static electricity.
Ken jumped up with surprise, then sat down again, trying not to show his eagerness. Robbie was still chock full of magical energy coming off the transmitter from the SATN-TV satellite feed. The Law of Contagion was still in force! She’d made the connection, and she was still channeling power. Maybe he could make the situation work without having to go back to the Superdome.
He glanced out the door to make sure the two agents weren’t in sight. They could queer the whole thing if they turned up unexpectedly. Mr. Kingston had promised to do something about them, but he hadn’t said what or when. In the meantime, the bar was wide open to the public. Anyone who came in could see them. Did he have any of the materials he needed for an obfuscation charm? He started feeling in his pockets. He couldn’t improvise. Ken knew he wasn’t much of a natural magician. He thought of himself more as a technical operator.
Robbie was talking, and looking at him as if she expected a response to what she was saying. Ken nodded whenever Robbie paused for breath. He’d only hope Ms. Mayfield and her grubby friend would keep chasing their tails until he’d managed to do what he needed to.
“Under the circumstances, I understand how you left everything running,” Ken said, inwardly exalting. “It was pretty intense back there. It won’t do any harm. If no one touches anything, it will all still be intact later. Come on, cheer up. Hmm?” He gave her a hopeful smile and chucked her under the chin. The tap was still open on the power feed from SATN. By 7:30 tonight, the full force of their stored-up energy would be coming down those transmission lines and trickling into the chair at Robbie’s station, ready to spread out into the full arena. He eyed the girl speculatively. He had an idea. It was possible. It could work. He toyed with his glass, wondering how to begin.
Robbie watched his fingers. Her eyes looked solemn as an owl’s behind her thick glasses.
“You have really long fingernails,” she announced. “I think that’s kind of creepy in a guy. It makes me think of that scene from Rosemary’s Baby. Those scratches on her back.” She hiccuped. “I’m sorry. I must be getting really drunk. I would never say something like that normally.”
“It’s all right,” Ken said, somewhat put out by the comparison. The blather that those two agents had been making about Robbie being a sensitive was more true than they’d ever know. He wondered if she could smell the brimstone incense he burned at home, and whether it was affecting her perceptions. “You know, you’re a really nice person, Robbie.”
She hiccuped. “Creak, creak, creak,” Robbie said suddenly, tilting her head and staring at the ceiling. “Do you hear that? It sounds like a rocking chair.” Ken glanced up. He didn’t hear anything. Whatever she was tuned into, it made him uncomfortable. Hastily, he brought the subject back on track.
“You know,” he said, “Lloyd’s such a perfectionist. If Fee made a total fool of herself, like screwing up the concert, he’d reject her.”
“You think so?” Robbie asked.
“I’m sure of it,” he said almost casually, making a spinning gesture. “Throw her out flat on her tush. If she was out of the way, he’d go crazy for you.”
A crafty expression appeared on her face. He made a note of it as he reached into his pocket for a small package he kept there. When the bartender brought the next installment of drinks, Ken slipped a tablet of LSD into Robbie’s.
“Come on,” he said. “Let’s drink to watching Fionna fall on her face.”
Chapter 16
“Where the hell have you two been?” Fee snarled as Liz and Boo-Boo came into the dressing room. “There’s only minutes left before the concert starts!”
“We know it,” that annoying Elizabeth Mayfield said, in that maddeningly calm voice of hers. How could she and Fee have been such close friends once? “We’re here now.”
Fionna paced up and down, smoking cigarette after cigarette. The tight, green dress caused the wires sewn into it to rub against her skin. The itch made her frantic. She wanted to tear the dress off and run naked out of the place. Hmmm, she thought, that might make good headlines. Then she dismissed the idea. The last thing she wanted to do right now was draw extra attention to herself. The monsters could come out of nowhere and get her. What a comedown! New Orleans ought to have been the saving of her. Instead, she was more uncertain of herself than ever. New evils were popping up all over, ones she’d never heard of before, and people were walking out on her all over the place. Even her assigned minders had gone on a tour of the town!
She took a long drag at her cigarette and breathed out twin plumes of smoke at the agents like a dragon in pre-toast mode. “You’re supposed to be protecting me!”
“We were looking for Ms. Robbie,” Boo-Boo said, calmly, “but we’re here now. You look very nice, ma’am. The dress matches your hair just exactly.”
Seeing nothing but a blandly pleasant face, Fionna threw up her hands and started pacing again. Lloyd came to loom over them, expressionless as a golem. The security man was clad in black turtleneck and slacks, topped off with a charcoal jacket that set off his broad shoulders and concealed who knew what else. He looked devastatingly effective, very masculine and completely dishy. Elizabeth understood what attracted Fee to the man.
“Has everything been going all right?” Liz asked Lloyd.
He nodded. Liz admired his ability to be a total professional when the occasion called for it. Now that he had accepted the situation, he was willing to be cooperative. “Show’s ready to go. I haven’t let her out of my sight, not even in the toilets. Did you find the silly woman?”
“No,” Liz sighed. “We lost the trail.”
Lloyd frowned. “Shouldn’t you still be looking?”
Liz shook her head. “Our place is with Fee. If there’s going to be another attack, we need to be right here with her, not out looking for Robbie.” Lloyd nodded curtly. He didn’t fuss over what couldn’t be helped.
“That makes sense.” He flipped open a radio and spoke into it. “No sign of her, Mr. Lemoine.”
The mild voice of the Superdome master control operator came from the small speaker. “I’ll let Security know, Mr. Preston. Everybody’s on alert.”
Lloyd flipped the unit shut. “If she shows her face, she’s ours.”
Fionna lit another cigarette off the first one, dropped the stub and ground it into the tiles with a silver-lame-stacked-heel shoe.
“I hate the waitin’,” she said. “I’ve always hated it.”
Fitz stood by the wall of the dressing room with sewing supplies at the ready in case Fionna’s dress needed last minute repairs. He regarded Boo-Boo and Liz with an open-eyed stare of wonder blended copiously with fear. Liz gave him a smile meant to be reassuring. His hand groped in a pocket. Liz, with every sense tuned to its highest chord, sensed a small touch of magic within the cloth, probably a good luck charm for protection against the unknown.
They might need that little bit of good luck to help get them through the night. She herself had grounded firmly in Earth power and filled up her personal batteries as far as they would go before entering the Superdome. She wished that they’d been able to find Robbie. So many questions were left unanswered. Was she working for anyone else, and if so, who? What was her motive? Why attack Fionna, whose music espoused largely benevolent causes?
Nigel Peters came into the dressing room, looking haggard. He headed directly for Fionna and took the cigarette out of her fingers.
“Give me that!” she wailed. “I need it.”
“Don’t constrict your voice with smoke, darling,” he said. “Here.” He handed her a drink instead. Fionna gulped it greedily. Laura Manning stepped forward and deftly made up Fee’s mouth again with bright orange paint. Fionna didn’t even notice her. She was too preoccupied.
“What’ch you starin’ at, Ms. Mayfield?” she demanded, brogue on full red alert.
“I . . .” Liz stopped herself from sounding too familiar with all these people here. “What’s the matter? I know you’ve done hundreds of these shows. This isn’t even your largest crowd. You couldn’t possibly have stage fright.”
“It’s not that.” Even under the heavy makeup, Fionna looked white-eyed. She refused to make eye contact with Liz.
“Don’t be a fool,” Liz said briskly, stepping right in front of her to get her attention. “You’ve proved that there really is bad magic attacking you. It’s real.”
“Oh, that really helps!” Fionna exploded, glaring at Liz. But the attack of bad temper did help her. It helped her forget how frightened she was for a moment. Curse Elizabeth Mayfield and her Yank scarecrow. They were right much too often.