Wild Magic Read Free Page A

numbers, and the man twisted the handle to open the safe door. He searched through its contents—some papers; a small pistol; a few small, possibly jewelry, boxes—but he must not have found what he wanted because he put it all back. She heard him curse before closing the safe and the portrait.
    His hand still on the frame, he suddenly froze for a few seconds, then whipped around.
    And looked right into her eyes.
    He could see her.
    How was that possible?
    Irenee stood as he approached, the V of his white tuxedo shirt gleaming in the dim light. Who was this man who clearly saw right through her spells? How did he do it?
    He wasn’t a warlock. If he was, he wouldn’t have used the gadget to open the safe—or not without checking for enchantments. He certainly hadn’t cast a discover spell to find her or she would have felt it. Besides, she knew every practitioner capable of recognizing, by sight or otherwise, that she was in the room.
    Was he a thief? Who would dare to steal from Alton? No common criminal would trifle with the Finster security forces. Those who tried were usually beaten to a pulp. Corporate espionage? Maybe. What would he expect to find here?
    Despite his lock-picking entry, the man wasn’t evil. Not a whiff of corruption radiated from him.
    If he wasn’t a thief, and he wasn’t evil, what was he? What was he after? Whatever it was, she knew its likely location—in the safe under her feet.
    She was running out of time. The auction would be starting, and the guards would be making another round. She had to get rid of him. If she helped him find his objective, he might leave her alone—after all, he was here as secretly as she was. As a last resort, if he objected, she could always stun him and make her escape.
    Although ... she really hoped she didn’t have to do that. The man intrigued her for reasons she couldn’t identify—or were her own reactions surprising her?
    As she looked at him, a pulse of excitement ran down her backbone, and she was suddenly filled with a sense of well-being and ... joy? Her magic center under her breastbone fluttered.
    By sheer force of will, she succeeded in quelling her peculiar response to this stranger, who was moving silently and lithely, staring into her eyes as if he meant to mesmerize her, his prey. She cancelled her invisibility spell. It obviously wasn’t working. He couldn’t hurt her, she told herself. She was a Sword.
    As he walked around the desk and headed toward the woman, Jim Tylan could still feel the tingling in the back of his head from what he called his “hunch mechanism.” That physical response always meant something important or dangerous was about to happen. Why hadn’t it alerted him when he walked in the room? He’d probably been so focused on the wall safe, he—and it—simply didn’t notice her crouched in the corner.
    He mentally cursed when he stopped before her. It was bad enough he hadn’t found Finster’s clandestine financial records, even though his informant said they were in a safe in the study. No one, however, was supposed to know he was executing a secret search warrant under Homeland Security and Department of Justice auspices. Now he had to deal with a witness.
    A witness with a glow, both around her and in the rug in front of her.
    The radiance cloaking her abruptly vanished when he came within two feet of her. He sent her one of his most accusatory cop glares. She only returned a distinctly puzzled look with no hint of guilt at being caught inside a locked private room.
    “Who are you, and what are you doing here?” he asked in a low voice. He’d seen no one in the hall, but the last thing he needed was for someone to hear them and come in.
    “Did you find what you were looking for?” she returned in the same tone.
    “What business is it of yours?”
    “I think I can help you.”
    “How?”
    “You’re standing on it.” She pointed to the carpet.
    “What?” He glanced down. The rug still