ever caught her outside after dark again I was putting her
over my knee.”
“By the gods, you’re an idiot.”
Duncan rol ed onto his elbow. “She was going after those
men all by herself. And she had Charlotte keeping watch in
the window with the phone in her hand, waiting to cal the
sheriff and a neighbor if she heard a gunshot. The kid’s
eight!”
Mac also rol ed onto his side. “What would you have had
Peg do, then, since she didn’t know you were guarding your
own equipment because you never told her?”
“She should have cal ed the sheriff the moment she
heard the vehicle drive in.”
Mac made a dismissive gesture. “There appears to be a
strong reluctance to cal the authorities around here—
especial y from the women. The first time I saw Olivia, she
was being attacked by one of her male employees, and
when I routed the bastard she refused to report the crime,
claiming he was just a dumb kid. Your own self-reliance is a
matter of pride, MacKeage, and yet you’re angry that Peg
was doing nothing more than you were.” The wizard rol ed
onto his back with a snort. “If that’s not living in your father’s
world, then what is?”
Duncan also rol ed onto his back just as he felt a raindrop
land on his chest. “So I guess getting something to make
her forget I’m an idiot is out?”
“Exactly how attracted are you to Peg?” Mac asked
quietly.
Duncan snapped his head around, then bolted upright
when he saw the look in the wizard’s eyes. “Why?”
Mac also sat up. “Because if you are seriously attracted
to her, I’m afraid making Peg forget you’re an idiot may be
the least of your worries.”
“Why?” he repeated in a growl just as another raindrop
hit his shoulder.
Mac reached under the stunted pine and grabbed his
sword’s harness. “Last night Olivia told me that Peg
believes the women in her family are cursed.”
“Cursed how, exactly?” Duncan asked, eyeing him
suspiciously.
“It appears the life expectancy of husbands for the last
five generations of female descendents of Gretchen
Robinson is quite short; the first poor bastards dying before
the age of thirty, and ensuing husbands dying—in freak
accidents, according to Peg—within a few years of the
women remarrying.”
Duncan leaned back and grabbed his own harness.
“That’s plain crazy. It’s a fact of life that men are more likely
to die in accidents because we’re more often in harm’s
way.” He started to slide his sword in its sheath but
suddenly stil ed. “Are you saying Peg honestly believes
she’s cursed?”
“Wil iam Thompson died on his thirtieth birthday.”
“In a construction accident,” Duncan said,
finishing sheathing his sword. “Curses can’t actual y kil
people because they’re not real.” He stil ed again. “Are
they?”
“It doesn’t matter if they are or not; what matters is that,
according to what she told Olivia, Peg believes she can’t
ever remarry.” Mac shook his head. “She’s afraid even to
care for another man, much less fal in love with one.”
“Love can’t kil a person any more than a curse can.”
“Nevertheless, I’m afraid your attraction to Peg is going
to involve battling more than her pride and contrariness.”
He suddenly grinned. “But as I said earlier, you’re a quick
study—assuming you wish to win this particular war.
Because if you decide you do, Duncan, then you best be
prepared to battle your own demons as wel as Peg’s.”
“What in hel are you talking about? I don’t have any
demons.”
Mac arched an imperial brow. “No? So it’s common
practice for modern men to threaten to put a woman over
their knee just as they did in your father’s time?”
“I was angry, dammit.”
“I suggest you choose a world, my friend—either this
century or Cal um’s—because if you continue trying to
straddle both while taking your perceived lack of magic as
a personal affront, I promise that you’re going to lose the
war … and the woman.”
Duncan rol ed onto his hands and knees and then
pushed himself to his feet. “Right now the only war I’m
focused on is the opposition to your resort. They fired the
first salvo at melast night, and I’m damned wel taking thatpersonal y.” He bent down and picked up his sword and
slipped the harness over his bare shoulders. “And you can
take your damned magic to California with you, Oceanus,
because I don’t need it or Matt’s or Ian’s to do my job.” He
swiped his shirt off the ledge and snagged his jacket off the
tree and used them to point at Mac just as several more
raindrops fel . “And I can damn wel get the girl all by
myself, too.”
“MacKeage,” Mac said quietly when Duncan started
striding away.
He stopped and turned back, saying nothing.
Mac swept his hand in an arc. “Pick a mountain—any
mountain—and I wil make it yours to command.”
He grinned, patting the ledge. “Except this one.”
“I already have a goddamned mountain.”
“TarStone is the source of Ian’s power.” Mac gestured
again. “Pick one.”
“I don’t wantone.”
The wizard pushed himself to his feet, then stood his
sword on its tip and crossed his hands over the hilt. “The
energy has been building inside you for thirty-five years,
and if you don’t find a way to ground it, Duncan, it’s going to
destroy you. Pick a new mountain or I’l pick for you.” He
arched a brow. “In the centuryof my choice.”
Sweet Christ, the bastard was serious. “That one,”
Duncan said, pointing to his right without even looking just
as several fat raindrops hit him hard enough to sting.
Mac sighed. “I believe you could teach Peg something
about contrariness,” he muttered. “It’s done, then; al that the
mountain has to offer is yours to command.” He suddenly
grinned. “Enjoy your walk home … neighbor,” he finished
just as the sky released a deluge of numbingly cold rain—
except on Mac, Duncan noticed as he turned away and
walked into the woods to the sound of the wizard’s quiet
laughter.
God dammit; he hadn’t done one thing to deserve this.
And what in hel had he been thinking, anyway, picking a
mountain on the other side of Bottomless? It was going to
cost him a goddamn fortune to build a road around that
damned fiord just to reach it.
Peg blinked at al the strange vehicles lining both sides of
the road the entire length of town; most of them cars
instead of pickups, mostly wearing out-of-state plates.
Which is why she ended up having to drive al the way past
where the old train tracks crossed the road before she
found a place to park, after she had to stop no fewer than
four times to let people cross in front of her. Spel bound had
actual pedestrian traffic—most of them gray-haired tourists
wearing cameras around their necks. By summer when
school was out, Peg guessed as her van’s engine rattled
backward before final y shutting off, the town was going to
be bursting at the seams.
“Okay, gentlemen,” she said, turning in her seat to give
the twins her I-mean-business scowl, “your chal enge for
today is to stick beside me like glue. Hand-holding is an
option, but only until one of you gets more than five feet
away, and then it becomes a requirement. Got that?” Peg
turned her scowl into a smile when they both vigorously