Damsel Under Stress (Enchanted, Inc. 3)

o;That sounds like a good idea. A cab will be fine. They usually have their heaters up to eleven this time of year.”

When we got to the street, he did his taxi-summoning trick, and soon I was safe in the back of an overheated cab that smelled faintly of curry and incense. “We’re going downtown,” Owen told the driver, then he turned to me. “Would you rather go to your place or to mine?”

“Yours,” I said without hesitation. “You’ve got a fireplace and a cat, and I recall that you have at least one sweat suit that fits me.”

“Mine it is, then.” He gave the driver the address, then he turned his attention back to me. He tugged my gloves off and wrapped his hands around mine, rubbing them to restore the warmth. Of course, since this was Owen, it had far more than the desired effect on me. Soon my whole body verged on uncomfortably hot. Before I had a complete meltdown, I pulled my hands away from his, but then I leaned my head against his shoulder and let him cuddle me so he wouldn’t think I was rejecting him. The terrifying memory of falling through a hole in the ice that shouldn’t have been there faded rapidly. In retrospect, it was a small price to pay for feeling this cherished.

We reached Owen’s place, and a concerned Loony met us at the door, meowing loudly. Owen hushed her with a glare, then in short order there was a fire blazing in the living room fireplace and he was holding an armful of clothes that seemed to have appeared out of thin air. “There should be some towels in the bathroom under the stairs, if you want to finish drying off. I’m sorry, but I was only able to affect your clothes. I couldn’t dry your skin very well.” As I took the clothing from him, he added, “If you want to warm up with a hot bath or shower, you could do that, too.”

I shook my head. “No thanks. I’m not eager to be wet again for a while.”

It was the same old pair of sweatpants and sweatshirt he’d given me to wear the last time I ended up cold and damp at his place. This was getting to be a very bad habit for me. I stripped off my mostly dry clothes, toweled off, then hurried to put the dry sweat suit on. A pair of thick socks was sheer heaven to my still-chilled feet.

When I emerged from the bathroom, Owen was waiting for me in the living room with two steaming mugs in his hands. He gave one to me. It proved to be a hot groglike drink, full of spices and probably a bit of something else. It reminded me of a drink my grandmother made when we had colds. I sat on the rug in front of the fireplace, and Owen wrapped an afghan around my legs before sitting beside me.

With the hot drink inside me, the fire, Loony in my lap, and Owen’s shoulder to lean against, I finally felt like asking, “What exactly happened back there?”

“I’m really not sure,” he admitted. “One minute we were skating along—and you were doing pretty well—and the next thing I knew, you’d fallen through the ice.”

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but that really isn’t an iced-over pond, right? I’ve been there in the summer, and that’s a concrete slab they set an ice rink up on in the winter. I shouldn’t have been able to fall more than a few inches, even if the ice melted or broke.”

“It was definitely magic, but I didn’t recognize the spell. Not that it’s a kind of spell I’d want to spend a lot of time with. Then again, it might be useful if you were in a situation where you needed water, depending on whether it requires ice to make it work…”

“Owen,” I said, giving him a little nudge to jolt him back to the present.

The tips of his ears turned red. “Sorry. Anyway, when you fell, it pulled me down, too, but I didn’t go through the ice. I barely managed to hold on to you, but I couldn’t get enough leverage to pull you out. I must have tried every spell I could think of that might have been remotely useful in that situation, but nothing worked. I’m not sure if it was your immunity or something to do with the spell on the ice, or what, but I was getting worried.”

“I imagine you’re not used to being helpless like that,” I mused.

“No, not really,” he said softly, staring into the fireplace. I thought I detected the tiniest flicker of a shudder in his shoulders.

“But you did get me out with some help, and you got me warm and dry, and now I’m okay, so it worked out.” I left out the part about how spending the rest of the day snuggling with him wasn’t such a bad thing. “I guess the usual suspects are behind this, huh?”

“Very likely. I didn’t notice anything odd, but then, I often don’t when they’re using magic to hide. Did you see anything before you fell?”

“Not that I can recall, but I wasn’t really looking. I was a little distracted by trying to remain vertical. It does seem like their style, though.”

“You have been attacked a few times since you joined the company.”

“I think I’d have to take off my socks to count the times, but my feet are too cold for that right now.”

“Are you still cold? I could warm the house up a little more or get you another blanket.”

I had to fight myself to keep from laughing at his tone, which was so concerned it was almost frantic. “I’m fine, really. In an hour or so, I’ll even be ready to go home and get packed for tomorrow. Relax.”

We ordered a pizza for dinner and ate in front of the fire, Owen tossing Loony the occasional bite of meat as he briefed me on the upcoming holiday. “I know I make them sound terrifying, but James and Gloria really aren’t that bad. They’ll be nice to you. I don’t think you have anything to worry about. I did tell you they dress for dinner, though, didn’t I?” I nodded. “And they don’t believe in hanging around the house in your pajamas. They’re fully dressed before they leave their bedroom.”

“That’s good to know,” I said, omitting the fact that Rod had already briefed me on that detail. “Y’all don’t have any weird traditions I need to know about, do you?”

“Nothing I can think of, but then I don’t know what you might think of as weird.” I knew if our positions were reversed, my brothers would be likely to invent traditions to put him through and make him think were a normal part of our holidays, but somehow I doubted his foster parents would do anything like that.

When I couldn’t delay getting home anymore, he insisted on walking me to my door, in case the sidewalks decided to swallow me. I was late getting to bed after wrapping up my packing. I doubted I’d get much sleep, anyway, what with my nervousness about the next day and the likelihood I’d end up reliving the day’s adventures.

Sure enough, as soon as I tried to shut my eyes, I was right back on that ice rink, enjoying the blissful moment when I felt like I was living a scene from a favorite romantic Christmas movie and then reliving the sudden terror of plunging through the ice. The memory was vividly painful, and as it flashed before my eyes, I could swear I recalled a hint of silvery sparkles in the air just before I fell.

I sat bolt upright in bed, shouting, “Ethelinda!” Fortunately, my roommates were out of town so I didn’t have to explain that. I wanted to bang my head against the wall in frustration at it having taken so long to dawn on me. It was the kind of semi-disastrous thing she might try, given what I’d seen from her at the tavern the other night. To give her credit, it had worked, in a way. Me falling through the ice had given Owen the chance to play both rescuer and comforter, and we’d had some quality snuggling time in the aftermath.

On the other hand, it could have been dangerous for both of us, and what was the deal with setting up a situation where I became a victim and he had to rescue me? Besides, hadn’t I told her I didn’t want her interfering?