Smoke and Mirrors Read online

  SMOKE AND MIRRORS

  ALL'S FAE IN LOVE AND CHOCOLATE

  Story #2

  By

  Michelle L. Levigne

  Uncial Press Aloha, Oregon

  2011

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and events described herein are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locations, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  ISBN 13: 978-1-60174-118-9

  ISBN 10: 1-60174-118-9

  Smoke and Mirrors

  Copyright © 2011 by Michelle L. Levigne

  Cover art and design

  Copyright © 2011 by Victoria Conrad

  The original three ALL'S FAE IN LOVE AND CHOCOLATE short stories--Day and Knight, Smoke and Mirrors, and She Blinded Me with Science--were published electronically, separately, between 2005 and 2006, by New Concepts Publishing. An anthology of all three stories was made available in paper in 2006.

  All rights reserved. Except for use in review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the author or publisher.

  Published by Uncial Press,

  an imprint of GCT, Inc.

  Visit us at http://www.uncialpress.com

  Chapter One

  After six years of running, Alexi came to rest in Las Vegas. As a scion of one of the most prestigious, powerful and dignified Fae families, he had been raised to protect his image. Las Vegas, the city of neon, gambling, and scantily clad showgirls, was the last place anyone would look for a Fae of his social status. Which made it the perfect place to hide.

  He expected to hate the town, teeming with greedy, dreaming Humans, but he discovered he liked it. For the first time since becoming a prime target for every husband-hunting Fae woman, he considered settling down somewhere.

  After all, the family curse had caught up with him, after nearly three centuries of blissful ease in magic. His strength and skill in magic were fading. It wouldn't be so bad if they went downhill at a regular pace, but his magic faded and erupted, sputtered to a halt, gave him killer headaches from the pressure of magic inside his skin, then drained away with a frustrating lack of predictability.

  Why not settle where magic and illusion were taken for granted, and strangeness was ignored? Why not settle in a place where no one would notice if he didn't know the first thing about getting along without magic?

  Of course, settling down meant cutting off all access to his family wealth. He couldn't leave a trail that husband-hunting Fae women could follow. Alexi liked women, but he didn't feel like getting shackled to one for the rest of his life. Sleeping with a woman in Need guaranteed magical matrimony. Alexi had heard that a man caught by Need not only didn't mind being taken captive, but was often blissfully happy. Somehow, looking at it from the outside, that didn't seem like much compensation. Temporary liaisons, maybe a decade at the most in length, were all he could manage.

  To avoid being trapped by Need-bound women, he could leave no trail. Which meant no access to his personal wealth in the home Enclave. Which meant: He had to get a job.

  A Human job.

  How in the world did someone manage that?

  He couldn't access the Ether Lexicon to find out. That was how the last hopeful bride tracked him. Alexi, however, enjoyed research as a hobby and knew how to use libraries and newspapers.

  His answer came in the classifieds section of the Las Vegas Review.

  A magician needed an assistant. Immediately. Two performances nightly, and matinees on Saturday and Sunday.

  "The last place anyone would look for me," Alexi mused, with a snort of disgust.

  A cheesy magic act in a Las Vegas casino was the perfect place for him to hide. Human magic tricks were an abomination to the Fae, who knew what true magic meant.

  Sort of a hide-in-plain-sight tactic, à la Edgar Allen Poe.

  Most magicians were males, using scantily clad Playboy Bunny wannabes as their assistants to distract the crowd. This ad, however, specifically stated male assistants in good physical shape. No one would ever expect him to work for a gay magician. It was just too preposterous. Alexi liked women too much. Which made this job the perfect disguise. All he had to do was plant a spell on the magician the moment he stepped into the room for the interview, to ensure he didn't make any unwanted demands on his assistant. Let the world think what they wanted. Alexi could live with it. He would be free forever.

  He had to get the interview and plant his protective spell today, while his magic felt strong and reliable. Tomorrow had no guarantee where his fluctuating magic was concerned.

  Alexi surprised himself by starting to whistle a jaunty tune as he strolled down the dusty Vegas sidewalk. Even though he had no assurance for his future, just having a plan, figuring out how to take care of himself without a lick of magic, made him feel as if he were on top of the world.

  He turned his thoughts to the scenery he strolled past. This wasn't the main drag of Vegas. The second-run casinos and hotels and show palaces suited him fine. He rather liked the quiet of Vegas in the morning, when sunlight was still stronger than neon and most inhabitants were just starting their days. Crowds guaranteed safety, but the lesser numbers under the sun guaranteed him breathing room.

  He reached the address specified in the paper--an upstairs office in a building that boasted a marriage chapel, a notary public and a pawnbroker. The intertwined trail of multiple perfumes assaulted his nose the moment he pulled the stairwell door open. The sound of angry female voices spilled down the stairs toward him. Alexi instinctively flattened himself against the wall at the first landing and spelled himself invisible. Fortunately, the angry, cursing young women who stampeded past him didn't brush against him or step on him. He held perfectly still, eyes closed, and waited for the door at the bottom of the stairs to slam before he made himself visible again.

  Alexi gripped the banister and stared upward into the dimness. He had to have this job. After turning invisible, did he have enough strength left in his unreliable magic to enchant his new employer? He started climbing.

  Only one door stood open at the top of the stairs. Alexi went up to it, moving softer than shadows, and leaned around the doorframe to scope out the situation before he went inside.

  The poster covering the back wall of the cubbyhole office said "Marga the Magnificent."

  And she was.

  Tall, long-legged, she wore a form-fitting tailcoat and black leggings. Lace cascaded from the plunging V of her neckline, and blue-black sequins glittered on her top hat. Her heart-shaped face framed faintly slanted, leaf-green eyes that glittered with mischief. Only one corner of her mouth curved up, somehow implying a touch of danger amid all the fun. Alexi had never wanted to kiss a picture before.

  So, the magician was female. That explained the search for a male assistant. He snorted at the idea of being someone's beefcake, but why the heck not? Turnabout was fair play, and no Fae woman would ever dream of him becoming someone's toyboy.

  Alexi glanced at the poster of Marga once more. No, he wouldn't mind at all.

  "Can I help you?"

  That low, slightly raspy voice sent prickles up and down his back, hinting at a touch of magic embedded in the flesh of the speaker. Alexi turned, and before he could gather his waning magic to follow the hint to its source, Marga in the flesh distracted him.

  She had her sable hair tied back in a ponytail, no makeup, wore baggy green sweats, and her nose was red with a wretched cold. She was still magnificent.

  "Uh, hi, I was--" Alexi hel
d up the newspaper ad. Ridiculous, to be tongue-tied in front of a Human woman. That was what the slow decay of his magic, the family curse, had brought him to. Right now, he didn't really mind.

  * * * *

  Megan forgot to sniff as she stared at the lean, elegant hunk of beefcake in front of her. After those five harpies accused her of sexism and illegal discrimination and stormed out, she'd gone to the bathroom to wash her face and fill the coffee carafe. She seriously thought about closing the office for the rest of the day.

  Her fingertips tingled, and it wasn't from the double dose of cold medicine she had taken against her better judgment. Come to think of it, she was here today against her better judgment.

  But then, she wouldn't be staring at mister lean-and-wild, with his tangled white-blond hair and sharp cheekbones, those deep-set green eyes and the bowstring-tight stance that just screamed untamed.

  The tingling in her fingertips screamed undercover Fae.

  What was this beefcake doing away from the Enclaves? Men like him were usually hogtied and married before they gave off the heat levels she could almost see, so where was his wife? And if he wasn't married, what was wrong with him?

  Megan wasn't afraid he was a Hunter, working for the Commission on Fae Invisibility, come to test her and make sure she hadn't developed any noticeable magic. She was a Halfling, and most of her Fae relatives didn't want her any more than they wanted her footloose father. The ability to sense and find Fae no matter where they hid, no matter how they damped their magic, didn't count as a magical talent. In the words of her cousin Pendergast, it made her a bloodhound and nothing more.

  But the question remained, what was this guy doing here?

  "Are you okay?" He smiled, reminiscent of a lost puppy. "If this is a bad time for you, I can come back later. Not that I want to. I really need this job."

  "Hmm? Oh--advertisement--yeah." Megan focused on the ad in his hand. "Unfortunately, Desi is even sicker than me."

  "Desi?" The lines around his eyes did adorable things when he was confused.

  "My roommate. We share office space, too. She advertised for the assistant. Desdemona."

  "Ill-omened name," he muttered.

  "You're telling me. Every assistant she ever had was either gay or wanted her to retire and set up housekeeping." Megan laughed, ending in a ragged cough.

  Before she knew it, he put an arm around her shoulders and guided her into the office, settled her in a chair, took the carafe and got the coffee going. A tiny blue spark leaped from his pinkie to the center of her forehead, immediately clearing her sinuses and melting down into her lungs to clear them.

  Gotta love a guy who would do that for a stranger.

  "So Desdemona needs the assistant. What about you?"

  "Actually, Desi called the paper and cancelled her ad yesterday. She jumped her contract."

  "I'm lost." His eyes sparkled with humor.

  "She prefers doing freelance work, and she's revamping her act. No need for an assistant. She's lucky."

  "Do you have an assistant?"

  "Not right now. And I'm seriously considering going solo." She sighed as the wonderful aroma of fresh coffee filled her nose. Two minutes ago, she couldn't have smelled it.

  "So that's why those five were so pissed, going down the stairs." He grinned, creating more interesting lines and crevices in his angular face.

  This guy makes Legolas look like a pampered wimp. Megan fought down the brief, hungry urge to grab him and bite one of his pointed ears. He did have pointed ears under that tangled mop of shoulder-length hair, didn't he? Really sharp, elegant points? Down girl!

  "I'm considering taking a female assistant, just because the last guy who helped me wanted to help himself to me." Megan sighed. Dennis believed employee benefits included mattress exercises and wouldn't take no for an answer.

  "Then why were they so mad?" he asked, interrupting her train of thought.

  "They started cussing me out as soon as I said they needed to see Desdemona and not me. Sorry, but what ever happened to being polite when you're looking for a job? I don't want those filthy mouths on my stage." Your mouth, however... Megan yanked her thoughts back to the matter at hand.

  "Good afternoon, Miss Marga." He stepped back and executed a formal, prim bow. "My name is Alexi Ambrosius, and I am very interested in learning the fine art of prestidigitation and illusion. I would be honored if you would take me as your apprentice and assistant." One corner of his mouth curved up. "I will keep my personal life very separate from our collaboration onstage, I assure you, and keep my hands to myself."

  Was she absolutely crazy to consider taking a hunk-of-the-month as her assistant? Fae men were notoriously libidinous when they escaped the rules and oversight of the Enclaves. That's how there got to be so many Halflings in the world. Herself included.

  Megan narrowed her eyes, physical and magical, and studied him. Along with the faint buzzing in her fingertips that let her sense a Fae presence, she had the ability to see a visible corona, at will, that told her much about a Fae's magical condition.

  Alexi's corona flickered like a strobe light, sliding from the blue of good health to a sickly yellowy-orange. He was in trouble. Maybe that was why he was out in the Human-run world, instead of letting himself get snagged by some female who was perpetually in heat and who would pamper him for the rest of her life.

  "Why aren't you married?" she murmured.

  Alexi instantly winced, which told her a lot. "I'd like to stay away from that subject, if you don't mind."

  "You're not gay, are you?"

  "If I lied and said I was, would you hire me?" He flashed her a puppy-pathetic smile.

  Megan had to laugh, which finished clearing her sinuses. That, the second blue spark of healing magic Alexi gave her, and the coffee he brewed convinced her. She needed him around.

  If he started getting pushy, trying to get into her bed, she would just reveal she was a Halfling with no magic whatsoever. That would scare him away. It always did.

  * * * *

  Alexi somehow wasn't surprised when Megan took him to a second-rate casino called Knockers--complete with a flashing neon bust that made Dolly Parton look like an adolescent just starting with a training bra. They immediately went backstage, and she showed him to the closet-sized dressing room her assistant had used until two days ago. The man's stage costume wasn't quite as risqué as Alexi had feared, and left some things to the imagination. His respect for Megan grew. She had to be a good magician not to use his physique to distract the audience. He realized he should have gleaned that much from her promotional poster. She didn't display buns and cleavage to distract the male audience.

  He wondered if his instant attraction to and ease with her came from the fact that she wasn't a Fae woman in Need, giving out audible emergency signals. Alexi stepped out into the hallway between their respective dressing rooms to show her how the abandoned costume fit him, and he laughed.

  "What's so funny?" Megan asked.

  "Now I know what women go through. Token male. Would you have hired me if I was a few inches taller or shorter, or twenty pounds off?" He turned, making the sequined black satin vest gape open, revealing his bare stomach. His glossy satin pants were snug, but left him breathing room. From the slight twitch of Megan's lips, her short nod, she appreciated the fact that he had kept in shape and worked on his tan whenever possible. Her good opinion suddenly meant a lot, and it didn't have anything to do with the job.

  "Let's see how you do with some basic sleight of hand. Then we'll know if you're eye candy or a real assistant." She led the way into her dressing room.

  It was three times the size of his dressing room, meaning it had room for two chairs to pull up to the counter. She had a closet to hold her clothes and equipment, instead of three hooks on the wall underneath a wire shelf. She tugged a plastic bin out from under the makeup table and unsealed the lid. Five rainbow-striped foam balls appeared in her hand. A twitch of her fingers and four balls
went between her fingers and the fifth sat on her palm. Another twitch, and all five vanished. She snapped her fingers and they appeared in her other hand.

  Alexi whistled softly and shook his head. Humans weren't such slouches at magic, after all.

  "That's basic?" He was delighted when Megan laughed at his rueful tone. "All right, boss-lady, it's time to go to school."

  "Just for a little while. We have to rehearse for tonight's show." Megan slouched and desultorily juggled the balls while she talked. "I'm honestly glad you showed up. I chopped my routine, figuring I wouldn't have anyone assisting me."

  "I won't be able to do much of anything tonight."

  "That's fine. We'll build you up gradually." She grinned. "Do you mind slapstick?"

  "What is slapstick?" He knew instantly he'd made a mistake. "You mean like Vaudeville?" Alexi had some sodden memories of Vaudeville and Prohibition and having a wild decade or so running with the wrong crowd.

  "Yeah, Vaudeville." She tossed the balls high in the air so they landed in the equipment bin again. "We could play up the fact you're the new kid, totally clueless about magic. Get some laughs. I could even give you a couple lessons onstage."

  "And make the people laugh when I'm astonished and you pull things out of my ears." He nodded. This was definitely the perfect place for him. If he played the bumbler and people laughed at him, it would be one more layer of protection for his new life and identity. One more illusion.

  Alexi was definitely going to like learning about Human magic. Especially with clever, pretty Megan as his teacher.

  He waited until her head was turned and flicked one more spark of healing magic at her. He had to take care of his boss, after all. If she couldn't perform, then he didn't get paid. That was all it was. He was looking out for himself.

  Alexi let his gaze rove over her and let his imagination fill in the details hidden by her baggy clothes. Being in voluntary exile was going to be more than interesting.

  Chapter Two