Both of them turned to glare at me, looking like they wished I'd just vanished. "You say that now," Gemma said, "but that's not what you said last night. I believe there was something about what a s.l.u.t I was because I was thinking of dumping him for not sleeping with me yet."

I cringed, though to be fair, she had pretty much said something along the same lines, except for the part about her being a s.l.u.t. It wasn't like I'd broken any new ground there.

Marcia chuckled. "Yeah, and ironic, wasn't it, considering she went from that to complaining about Owen doing the same thing with her? And then she must have been thinking of poor Philip's reputation by giving him a chance to show he wasn't a cold fish."

By this time I'd cringed so hard I nearly had a cramp. "How did Owen react to the things I did?" I asked. My heart clenched at the thought of what he must have felt.

Gemma shrugged. "It's hard to tell with that mask he had on. But he went really quiet, still-like. He made sure you were looked after. A lot of guys would have left you there to find your own way home, and he wanted to make sure you'd be okay. I think he really, really likes you. And he's a good guy."

I shook my head as though that would clear out some of the deadness. "I just don't get it. I don't know where that stuff could have come from."

"It had to have come from somewhere," Marcia said.

"We should have known that nice routine was too good to be true," Gemma added.

I went from contrite to angry. "Come on! How long have you known me? We've lived together at least five years, off and on, and you've seen me drunk more than once. You'd know by now if I had anything ugly hidden underneath the surface." I tried to think of an explanation for whatever had happened. The most obvious, of course, was that I'd been enchanted. I'd done some pretty out-of-character things not too long ago, the last time I'd lost my immunity, when I'd been enchanted. It would have been easy enough for someone in that crowd to have zapped me with a spell. Unfortunately, I couldn't tell them that. "Maybe it was one of those drugs people slip into drinks, like the news shows are always warning you about. My mom sent me a magazine clipping about that the other day."

My head finally cleared completely, although I still felt like my brain was too big for my skull, and I felt like I was truly, fully awake for the first time today-even more awake than usual. I could now a.s.sess the situation and see it for what it was. They were lying to me, a voice in my head said, winding me up to make me regret drinking too much. None of that stuff had really happened. I'd probably fallen asleep on a couch and missed the whole party.

I laughed. "Okay, I think your little prank has gone on long enough. You've run it into the ground, and it's not the least bit amusing."

It would have been nice if I could have grabbed a coat and stomped out of the apartment, but the snow was coming down hard and I didn't want to be out in it. Instead, I went back to the bedroom and slammed the door. I thought about calling Owen to get the real story of what happened at the party, but then I realized I didn't have his home phone number. That certainly said something about our relationship. I hoped he might call to make sure I was okay, but he didn't. I spent the rest of the day curled up on my bed and trying not to dream up revenge fantasies against my roommates. I had the light out and was pretending to sleep long before Gemma came to bed.

Because I'd gone to bed so early, I woke before my roommates did. I got up, got dressed, and left. I figured I'd let them worry about me and stew all day, and then maybe they'd be sorry enough to come clean and apologize that evening. Leaving early also meant that I might stand a chance of missing Owen. If he didn't care enough to call to see how I was doing after a night when he'd had to carry me home, I didn't want to see him. It would serve him right if he worried about me.

I picked up a sweet roll and coffee at a deli I pa.s.sed on my way to the subway station, but when I got into the station, I found myself heading for the uptown platform instead of my more usual downtown platform. I noticed the mistake and tried to correct it, but nothing happened. I kept heading for the uptown platform, as though someone else controlled my body. I saw an elf pa.s.s me on the staircase, so I figured I had my immunity back and no one could be controlling me magically. Maybe my subconscious was trying to tell me something and I should just go with my gut.

I got on an uptown express train, then got off at Times Square and instinctively made my way over to the Spellworks store. I stood on the corner across the street from the store, waiting and watching. After a while, I got cold from standing still, and just waiting there seemed pointless, but when I tried to move, something in me resisted. My subconscious was being really, really stubborn. I put up an even stronger fight and finally succeeded in moving one leg, but then I saw Idris approaching the store and decided to stay for a while.

Of course, the moment I decided to stay, my subconscious got other ideas. I darted out across the street, dodging honking cars, to reach him. It took him a moment to notice me, and then yet another to recognize me. "What are you doing here?" he asked, his eyes bugging. He immediately scanned the area around me like he was looking for my magical bodyguards. Come to think of it, I hadn't noticed them, myself. I must have thrown them off by leaving so early, before Owen got there to walk me to work.

I opened my mouth to answer him, but what came out was, "Are you missing anything? Or have you been too busy with your lady friend to notice?" My subconscious was a very strange place. I had no idea what I was talking about.

He rolled his eyes. "I am not dating Sylvia. She's my investor. You may think I'm joking around with my business, but it's for real, and it's going to take that dinosaur you work for down."

I glanced over at his single, tiny storefront, then back to him. "Yeah, we're shaking."

"How big a task force do you have a.s.signed to figure out what I'm doing and bring me down?" he asked, crossing his arms over his chest and taking a pose that made him look like a wannabe rap star. "Yeah, you're running scared."

"We're not scared of you. We're scared about the mess you'll make and the innocent people who'll be hurt along the way." That was me talking, I was sure.

"That's what you say." He glanced around me again, then asked with a smirk, "Where's your boyfriend this morning? I thought taunting me was his job."

"He's too busy to waste time on you." Part of me wanted desperately to stay there with him, which made me really worry about my subconscious, but I knew I needed to get to the office. It took all my will to drag myself away from him to get to the subway station. While I waited for a downtown train, I checked my watch. Unless a train came very soon, I'd be late. I stared up the tunnel, wishing for a train to get there right away. For once, it worked.

When I got to the office, Owen's lab was empty. That gave me a chance to focus on my own work. I had a revised marketing plan in response to the Spellworks threat to wrap up and get to Merlin, and that almost distracted me from obsessing over what might have happened at the party and whatever was going on with me this morning. I still didn't think my friends had told me the truth. After all, I never acted like that. I printed the final doc.u.ment, then headed to the departmental printer room to pick it up.

Trix greeted me with a worried frown when I got up to Merlin's office. "Are you okay?" she asked. "You were in really bad shape by the end of the party."

"What kind of shape?" I asked.

She shrugged her wings. "You weren't acting like yourself." Then she gave one of her tinkling fairy giggles. "For a moment, I even thought Ethan might have regretted breaking up with you."

"That bad, huh?" I asked, playing along, though I was sure she was in on my roommates' scheme.

"I've seen worse. Remember, I used to hang out with Ari." Her eyes flashed in anger for a second, then she was back to her perky self. "What brings you up here?"

"I've got this plan the boss wanted to see."

The intercom on Trix's desk buzzed. "Tell her to bring it to me," Kim's voice said.

Trix looked up at me and rolled her eyes. "Her majesty beckons."

This would have been the perfect time for Merlin to fling open his office doors and ask to see me, but he didn't, so I sighed, shrugged, and headed to what used to be my office. "You need to make sure Mr. Mervyn sees this as soon as possible," I said, trying to give my best impression of a superior speaking to a lowly office peon. "It's high priority."

She took the doc.u.ment from me, tossing it casually into a nearby in-box. "I'm sure he'll look at it when he has time."

That was the last straw. If I didn't still have the remnants of a killer headache, I'd have been up for an all-out hair-pulling and face-clawing catfight. Before I realized what I was doing, I'd s.n.a.t.c.hed the plan back out of the in-box. "Look, I don't know what delusions of grandeur you have going on, but you're just filling in for my clerical tasks until I finish catching the bad guys yet again. Until you've been a big part of stopping the latest evil scheme a couple of times, you don't stand a chance of taking my job, so you can get over yourself."

She was struck speechless, which was rather satisfying. It would have been even more satisfying if her elbow had b.u.mped the tall Starbucks cup next to her computer and sent her morning latte into her laptop's keyboard, but I couldn't ask for everything. While she was still trying to come up with a snappy comeback, I said, "Now, I'll give this to Trix to give to Mr. Mervyn." Then while I stood there watching, the coffee cup tipped over, seemingly of its own accord. It took her a second to realize what was happening, and then she shrieked as she grabbed the cup and then tried to mop up the coffee.

In spite of her frantic reaction, the results were less than spectacular. A minor explosion, or at least some sparks and noise, would have been more fun. Just then, the laptop keyboard blew up, shooting keys and sparks everywhere. Ah, that was more like it, I thought. "It looks like you're too busy to deal with this at the moment, anyway," I shot over my shoulder as I left her to damage control.

"That must have gone well," Trix remarked as I returned to her desk. "Usually you look frustrated instead of satisfied when you get away from Kim."

"Have you ever had something you wish for really happen? I mean, where you think it would be great if something would happen, and then it does?"

"Of course I have. I can do magic."

"No, not with you making it happen. I mean like when someone pa.s.ses you like you're sitting still on the freeway, and you think it would be terrific if there was a state trooper with a radar gun around the next bend, and then when you get around the next bend you see a state trooper with that guy pulled over. It gives you faith that there is some justice in the universe."

"I take it Kim just got pulled over?"

"In a way. She had a cup of coffee next to her computer, and her elbow was awfully close to it while she did her superior act with me. I couldn't help but think that it would be funny if while she was playing power games with me, her elbow hit that cup and knocked it over onto her keyboard. And then the cup fell over, just like that. She's still in there trying to salvage the computer, but it may be a lost cause, considering it blew up."

She sighed wistfully. "Oh, I wish I'd been there to see that. Too bad you couldn't get it on video, but I have a happy picture in my mind. That may be enough to get me through the rest of the day."

"While you're daydreaming, can you give this to the boss next time he emerges from his cave?" I handed her the plan.

"Sure thing. I owe you for giving me my daily dose of motivation."

On my way back down to R&D, I pa.s.sed a man who gave me an appreciative leer. "Oh, drop dead," I muttered under my breath as I kept walking. A moment later, I heard a horrible choking sound behind me. I spun around to see that man doubled over, coughing and sputtering while his face turned redder and redder. A bag of cheddar popcorn lay spilled on the ground in front of him. I might not have liked the way he'd looked at me, but I couldn't leave him to die. I ran over, stood behind him, and whacked him on the back. He was still choking, so I wrapped my arms around him and did the Heimlich maneuver. Soon, he was breathing normally.

I let myself breathe more normally, as well, once the disaster was averted. Then I looked up and saw that a crowd had gathered. While the women rushed to check on the choker, the men all studied me intently. I overheard one whisper to another, "Well, she did act like she wanted to wrap herself around him."

I ignored it and turned away to head back to Owen's lab, then almost choked, myself, when I heard another one mutter, "You know, she's not nearly as cute out of costume. I guess I'd still do her if she threw herself at me, but I'm not gonna compete for her. Palmer can have her, but can you picture him keeping her after all that?"

Another one snorted, "Yeah, our resident boy scout isn't going to be into that stuff."

It took all my strength to act like I hadn't heard anything as I walked away. This was yet another one of those times when it would have been nice if the universe would have set things right for me, but the fact that the universe had allowed itself a rare moment of balance by getting back at Kim did not mean I suddenly was going to get everything I wished for. Still, I wouldn't have objected if the ceiling caved in on them. I then heard a thud and some screams, and I turned to see a hole in the ceiling in that part of the hallway, with ceiling tiles lying broken on the ground. Two men seemed dazed and had bits of tile in their hair. This was starting to get freaky. Aside from karma kicking into gear, I couldn't help but wonder about the things those men had said about me. Maybe Gemma and Marcia hadn't been playing games with me. And that meant that maybe Owen hadn't been neglecting me but rather had been hurt deeply. I needed to figure out what was going on, and there was one person I was sure I could trust to tell me the truth without judging me.

I headed straight for Rod's office. It was ironic that a guy who habitually wore a face that wasn't his own was the person I felt I could trust, but enough had happened between Rod and me that I was sure he'd be honest with me, and although he was Owen's best friend, I felt like he could be a neutral party in this.

Isabel was out when I got there, but Rod was at his desk. "Can I talk to you?" I asked.

"Sure," he said, gesturing me to a chair. "How are you feeling?"

"I have a splitting headache, but other than that I'm okay. I just wanted to ask you, what did I do at your party? For real. Don't exaggerate, and don't try to spare me. I need the truth."

"Are you sure about that?"

The unease on his face made me think twice, but I said, "You don't have to give me gory details. A big-picture overview will do."

"Soon after midnight, it was like you became another person. You were very, um, flirtatious. You were loud, and you said some mean things."

I groaned and sank back into the chair. "So, it's true. Gemma and Marcia told me, but I thought they were putting me on, since I never act like that. I kept waiting for them to say 'gotcha.' But they didn't."

"Your immunity was still down during the party, wasn't it?" I nodded. "It's possible you were under a spell. Someone other than your roommates may have been playing a prank on you."

"You think that's it?"

"I know it is. You're not mean. You'd never act that way if you were in control of yourself." He gave me a warm smile and added, "Don't worry, Owen knows that, too. He'll brood and sulk for a while, but he'll get over it. In fact, I bet he's researching possibilities right now."

When he smiled that way, he really looked nice-even nicer now that he was doing something with his hair and was taking care of his skin. I realized then that his real face and his illusion weren't all that different. His illusion just looked like someone had Photoshopped his real face to remove his worst flaws and make everything look just a little bit better.

With a deep sigh, I stood up. "I have a killer headache, and I'm feeling utterly humiliated, so I'm going to go home early. Would you mind telling anyone who needs to know? About the headache, I mean. Not about the humiliation, though I suppose that goes without saying. I want to make sure this has all worn off before I face the office again."

"Don't worry, I'll take care of it."

I gave him a quick hug before I left. "You're a real pal, you know? You might even be good enough for Marcia."

"I'm glad you approve, because I was going to ask her out anyway," he said with a pat on my back.

Owen was in his office when I went back to the lab for my purse and coat, so I didn't try talking to him. That could wait until I felt a bit better. I left the building and trudged across the park by City Hall to get to the subway station, my head feeling heavier with each step. When a train arrived, I boarded and managed to get a seat. The woman sitting across from me wore what had to have been the ugliest shoes ever. Although she was well dressed, her shoes were repulsive-and probably the expensive kind of repulsive. In other words, they looked like someone had pulled them out of the trash and patched them up, but they were designed to look that way. There were even silvery bands across them that were probably inspired by duct tape. Staring at the shoes, I wondered what she'd think if she had the real thing instead of the designer version. Real duct tape holding her shoes together wouldn't be nearly as nice, especially if she'd spent hundreds of dollars to buy faux-trashed shoes.

I glanced away for a moment, then when I looked back at her, I saw that her shoes looked even worse. The duct tape wrapping around them curled up around the edges, and the sole was coming off in places. I blinked to make sure I saw what I thought I saw. No, it was still the same way, and I was sure those shoes had been in better shape before I started thinking about them.

I could have written off a lot of stuff that had happened that day to chance. There were logical explanations for the train coming when I wanted it to, for Kim's computer, the choking guy, the ceiling falling. But shoes didn't change right before your eyes just because you thought they should. That is, it didn't happen with me. I knew people who could do things like that, but I also knew I wasn't one of them. At least, I shouldn't have been.

If I wasn't mistaken, I had somehow developed magical powers.

Nineteen.

I forced myself to take a couple of deep breaths and calm down before I had a panic attack on the subway. I knew there were a lot of magical people in the city. It was entirely possible that one of them was on the train and shared my taste in footwear. Just in case, though, I focused on the shoes, trying to remember what they'd looked like before. I was fairly certain I felt the tingle of power in use, but much stronger than anything I'd ever felt from others doing magic near me. I blinked, and the shoes were right back the way they'd been before. Their owner didn't seem to have noticed. She crossed her legs and kept her eyes on her book.

That sealed it for me. Even if I wasn't really doing magic, this was suspicious enough to have checked out. I'd learned the hard way not too long ago that telling Owen when something odd and potentially dangerous was going on could save me a lot of trouble. I got off the subway at the next stop and walked back down Broadway toward the office. I barely noticed where I was or the fact that it was cold and windy as I hurried down the sidewalk. The pedestrian lights all turned to "walk" just as I reached them, but I couldn't be sure that was because of magic. If you walked at the right pace and no one got in your way, you could hit the lights in synchronization like that. I was tempted to try something else to test my newfound powers, but I knew that doing magic where people might see it was forbidden, and I didn't know the first thing about veiling the effects of magic from public view.

I had a lot to learn if this was for real. I wondered what had happened. Was this a weird side effect of Owen's potion? Maybe it had backfired, not only making me susceptible to magic, but also able to do magic. Or it could have had something to do with whatever happened at the party. As much as I liked the idea of being able to get whatever I wanted with a wave of my hand, it was also a little frightening.

When I got to the MSI office building, I balked at the front door. It was like earlier in the morning when I'd felt compelled to go to the Spellworks store. My subconscious must have wanted to play around more with magic, but I overruled it and forced myself to open the door. I ran up the stairs and was breathing heavily by the time I got to Owen's lab. He and Jake were in there working. "We need to talk," I blurted as I burst through the doorway.

He looked up from the doc.u.ment he was reviewing with Jake, blinked, frowned, and then looked like he was having a root ca.n.a.l. "Can we have this discussion-"

"Now," I interrupted. "Don't worry, it's not a relationship talk, but it is pretty d.a.m.n crucial. Your office, ASAP."

While he was still looking at me like I'd lost my mind-and maybe I had-I headed straight for his office. Only when I reached the doorway did I remember his wards. I could usually get into his private office because I was immune to magic, but what about now that I could do magic?

I was able to get through the door, but I thought my head would explode as I crossed the threshold. I couldn't help but scream in pain, and that brought Owen running. He caught me as I swayed, still holding my head in agony, and helped me into the nearest chair. "Katie, what is it?" Now he sounded gentle and concerned but still a little distant.

"Something very, very weird is happening," I said, choking back a sob. Before I could change my mind, I blurted, "I think I can do magic now."

That got his attention. "What? How long has this been going on?"

"Today. I don't know, maybe I'm imagining things. Maybe I'm going crazy, but it's too much for coincidence. This morning, the slightest thought that it would be funny if Kim's coffee turned over and spilled on her computer crossed my mind-and then it happened a few seconds later. I chalked that up to karma because she totally deserved it. Then some really strange stuff happened in the hallway on my way back here. I decided to go home because I had a headache that was getting worse, and on the train, there was this lady with really ugly shoes. I thought about changing them, and they changed, then changed back again when I wanted them back the way they were. So I got off the train at the next stop to come back here and see what was going on."

He studied me like he was looking at a laboratory specimen. "While there are certainly other possible explanations for everything you've described, the number of events in that short a time is highly unlikely. You've had a headache, you say?"

I nodded, then regretted it as that intensified the ache. "Yes, ever since I woke up on New Year's Day. At first I thought it was a hangover, but it wasn't the typical hangover headache. I felt like my brain was too big for my skull. It's not as bad now, but it's a constant ache. And just now, when I walked through your doorway, that was the worst."

"Hmm. Okay, I want you to try doing some magic."

"Like what?"

"Think about something you want to make happen. Something simple and obvious that isn't likely to happen on its own by coincidence."

I looked around his cluttered office. There was very little in there that didn't look like it was bound to topple over on its own at any moment. I finally pointed to the magnifying gla.s.s that lay on top of a pile of parchment on his desk. "I'm going to make that flip over."

He nodded. "Okay, go for it."

I concentrated, imagining the magnifying gla.s.s turning onto its side, and then falling over onto its other side. Slowly at first, and then more surely, it rose, turned over, and then landed again on the desk.

"Son of a b.i.t.c.h," Owen said as he stared at the magnifying gla.s.s. It was the closest I'd ever heard him come to swearing in a language I recognized. Gloria probably didn't approve of profanity.

"So it's for real," I said, just to confirm it.

"It's real, all right. I felt the power, myself."

"So, is this good or bad?"

"I don't know. It depends on how and why it happened. The headache has me worried, though. That part's not good, if it's related."