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  Marcy rested her chin on her palm and leaned closer. “Well? Who are you interviewing? Come on, Catey.”

  “It’s confidential. The station wants to keep low key about it,” she hedged, wishing the show would start.

  “Wow. This person must be really big for them to do that.” Marcy started to say more, but the lights dimmed and the audience quieted.

  Multi-colored laser lights flew across the auditorium, circling, slicing and twirling as the orchestra played. The semi-circle stage remained dark except for the thin strips of lights racing across. Ceiling-to-floor curtains glinted as they glided open.

  Caitlyn, nerves on edge, jerked when fireworks exploded in brilliant sparks along the back of the stage. The musical notes accelerated. Someone began to speak. At first, the words were low, but the sound increased in volume and lyrics became clearer with each note. Foreign words which she didn’t understand. Was he singing in Welsh? She frowned. What did the words mean?

  The spotlights focused all at once on a suspended platform in the middle and top section of the stage. The figure of a man stood high above the floor, silhouetted against the lighted background. He stepped down off the platform.

  Caitlyn’s gasp echoed the audience’s cries of awe. Shay Evers. Dressed in black leather pants and a white, billowy shirt, he moved with feline grace. From her vantage point, he appeared as though he walked on air, but after a second, she noticed a thin cable stretched from the top back to the middle front of the stage. He strode on the cable as if on solid ground. Midway, he performed a perfect cartwheel on the wire.

  She scanned the area above his shoulders and head, searching for other wires attached to him, but didn’t see any. Intrigued, she made a mental note to research his balancing ability. She couldn’t remember a mention of acrobatic training in the background information she’d found. His balance was perfect.

  As the show progressed, she remained still with her hands clasped in her lap, observing every move the illusionist made as she tried to rationalize his performance. After an hour of logic-defying feats, Evers stopped in the middle of the stage. His gaze roamed over the spectators.

  “A volunteer from the audience.” Evers strode across the stage, stopping every few steps to study someone. He talked and joked with several front-row people along the way. When he reached the end, he doubled back and paused in front of Caitlyn and Marcy.

  His amethyst eyes caught and held Caitlyn’s gaze. The hair on her arms stood.

  He moved down the nearby stage steps to a place not far from where she sat, took a young woman’s hand and tugged her to her feet. This close, Caitlyn could see every line of his handsome face. Her breath caught in her throat as she struggled to suppress her reaction to his nearness. She blinked, and he was striding back to the stage. A large prop had been rolled onto the center of the stage. Concealed by a white sheet, the huge piece stood alone. Shay led the young woman to the object and commented about taking a leap of faith.

  Shay turned to the woman and she giggled. Her bright smile and sparkling eyes were obvious signs that she’d fallen under the illusionist’s spell. With a practiced flick of his wrist, the sheet billowed out and away from the prop. The deep mahogany framing a mirror glinted in the light. Carved Celtic figures roamed across the arch. Spiraling wooden pillars encased the sides, holding the glass in place.

  The audience responded with appreciative sighs and murmurs.

  “God, I’d love to have it in my apartment. It’s gorgeous,” Marcy whispered.

  Caitlyn nodded, admiring the craftsmanship. “Wouldn’t fit at your place. Now mine, that’s a different story–it’d go perfect in my bedroom.”

  Marcy smothered a laugh, and Caitlyn patted her to be quiet. “Shush, I want to hear.”

  Taking a step toward the stage’s edge, Evers glanced about the audience. “There was once a faery tale about a witch and her magical mirror. Well, she’s not the only one to have a magical mirror.” He moved back to the woman waiting by the mirror. “Do you want to see what my looking glass can do?”

  The woman nodded, her expression one of wonder as she stared at him.

  “It is the doorway into the faery world. Do you believe that?”

  Her expression changed into a curious frown. She shrugged and shook her head.

  “No? Perhaps you’ll believe once you go there.” Shay took hold of the side of the mirror and rolled it around, touching the air about the frame. “See? Nothing there. No fake doors. Floor is solid.”

  Shay stopped and positioned the mirror so that it was facing the woman and the audience. Rapping on the glass with his knuckles, he grinned and spoke to the audience. “See? Nothing out of the ordinary. But if I do this...”

  He placed his palm flat on the glass. Ripples started on the surface below his palm. Liquid silver rolled away like in a calm lake. Caitlyn straightened, studying his every move.

  “Come with me,” he told the woman. He held his hand out and she placed hers in his. With his free hand, he sliced down with the side facing the glass. His hand disappeared into the glass. The woman gasped and started to giggle. His arm slipped beyond the glass all the way to the shoulder; the entire arm now inside the mirror.

  Next, his body tilted toward the glass, vanished from the stage and reappear within its depths. He glanced at the woman whose hand he clasped and grinned. “Come, sweetheart, follow me to a world only dreamed about.”

  Caitlyn’s chest tightened. Captivating, his voice pulled at her. The urge to stand, make her way to his side, caught her unawares. Nothing in her past had prepared her for the battle she fought to remain in her seat. Holding her breath, she couldn’t tear her gaze from his face as he assisted the woman into the glass, guiding her inch by slow inch.

  Once inside, Shay waved. As he lowered his arm, the mirror’s glass blackened. No Shay, no woman, nothing.

  Spotlights danced over the audience. People about her and Marcy twisted in their seat, equally looking for the illusionist and his volunteer.

  Shay’s laughter rang out from the rear of the theater. All eyes focused on the main aisle leading to the lobby. The curtains pulled apart. He strode through, the woman’s hand still clasped in his. Behind them a unicorn, head high, coat shining a glimmering white and a horn glinting gold in the light, followed. Gasps, cheers and excited shouts rose from the audience.

  Shay stopped halfway down the aisle and held up the woman’s hand. Her clothes, no longer the one she’d worn on stage, sparkled with tiny shards which caught the light and flickered. The off-the-shoulder floating gown, a pale blue, hung on her body.

  Caitlyn stared, unable to drag in a single breath. This performance was nothing like she’d ever seen. Something tugged at her from deep inside her chest. The sensation seemed familiar, while at the same time, foreign. She managed to pull herself together once she realized how focused she’d become with watching Shay. Still, the impression that something had awakened within and remained out of sight on the outer edges of her mind bothered her, like she needed to remember something she’d forgotten but couldn’t.

  The illusionist, amid the applause, escorted the woman back to the stage, the unicorn on his heels. Once on stage, Shay motioned to the mirror. The unicorn pranced to the glass. Its horn touched the glass and waves moved across the surface from the point of contact. Like Shay did before, the unicorn stepped into the mirror. Caitlyn held her breath, waiting until the animal was completely through the glass. She shook her head as the silky tail swished once before it disappeared from the stage.

  Waving goodbye to the audience, Shay led the volunteer off stage with a laughing comment about changing her clothes. Handing her off, he faced the audience again. After a final bow, he strode toward the wings.

  Chapter 6

  Once Shay’s assistants removed the mirror, the band started playing a new tune. Scantily dressed dancers performed during his absence.

  Marcy leaned over and spoke close to Caitlyn’s ear. Her designer perfume, floral and alluring,
floated about them. “Well, didn’t I tell you he was wonderful?”

  Caitlyn swerved her head toward her friend and grinned. “I’m glad I changed my mind. He boggles my mind with trying to figure out how he does his acts. It’s amazing.”

  Excitement shone in Marcy’s gaze, her bright smile was as white as always.

  “I know.” She tapped Caitlyn’s arm and laughed. “I have to admit. I was a little disappointed he didn’t choose me.”

  Caitlyn shook her head. Leave it to her friend to think only of herself.

  She opened her mouth to respond but stopped as Shay walked onto center stage dressed in a different pair of pants, still black leather but with fringe and silver disks hanging on the outer sides of his thighs. The first white shirt had been exchanged for a different one with lengths of lace flowing about his neck and wrists.

  Uneasy with the rapid way her heart beat each time she saw him, Caitlyn narrowed her gaze, seeking some flaw with the entertainer. How he managed to dress in such a feminine fashion and still ooze sex appeal stunned her. The neck of the shirt gaped to mid-chest and parts of solid muscled skin peeked out with each of his movements. Tawny skin called to her, stoking a fierce desire to reach out and stroke the smoothness. She swallowed and clenched her fingers into fists.

  He strolled past where she sat, and she waited for him to glance at her but he didn’t. His accented voice rang out over the speaker system with a question. “Who believes in the fountain of youth?”

  Shouts and clapping answered him.

  From both ends of the stage came ten attendants. Each rolled a large disk which they positioned across the front of the stage. Five on the left and five on the right, lining them up in a semi-circle. On the top of each disk, a senior citizen stood, sat in wheelchairs or leaned on walkers or canes. They smiled and waved at the audience.

  Shay strode behind the aged people from one end of the stage to the other. A new song started, and he sang. The lyrics spoke of timeless youth and to never give up on feeling young. His assistants covered the elderly with satiny white sheets. Once the elderly were hidden from view, his attendants rolled them about the stage on the disks to verify there were no wires or trap doors.

  Midway through the song, Evers wove through the ten sheet-covered people, sprinkling glittering dust over them. Her heart pounded in anticipation. Unable to pull her gaze away, she barely breathed, watching every movement, listening to each note. Her hands ached where she clenched them in her lap. The music escalated. For each deep dip in the song, Shay ripped the sheets one at a time from the covered people.

  The audience cried out in surprise. Instead of the elderly figures, children stood and sat. A small girl sat on a tricycle where before a walker had been situated in front of an elderly woman.

  Caitlyn swallowed, the ever growing sense of something opening up inside her returned, like a doorway cracking open. A frisson of fear went through her. She didn’t understand what had happened and no matter how she tried, what he’d done was beyond explanation. The children even resembled the older people. The old man on the end had worn glasses and freckles had covered his lined face. The boy, now in his place, wore similar glasses and his red hair matched the freckles which spread over his nose and cheeks.

  Marcy’s hand gripped Caitlyn’s wrist. Her friend glanced wide-eyed her way for a brief second. Caitlyn forced a smile and quipped, “You’re right. He’s fantastic.”

  A frown crossed the blonde’s brow. She leaned closer, not taking her gaze from where Evers played pied-piper to the children trailing behind him. “How did he do that?”

  Caitlyn shook her head and shrugged. “Illusion?”

  Over the last few years, the networks had aired a few of his shows. The ones she had watched consisted of one or two incredible magic feats. This was the second extraordinary act in a row for his performance tonight, and with excitement, she waited to see what others he would perform before the end.

  The rest of the show careened past her as she struggled to rationalize all that had occurred onstage. An hour and a half later, she leaned against the wall in the amphitheater’s ladies room and waited as Marcy applied fresh powder and lipstick. In a matter of seconds, they would go through the hallways to the special room in the building for the backstage party.

  Her blood continued to rush through her veins, and the mirrors behind the sinks beckoned her to look and verify they were solid glass and not a doorway to a different world. No, she refused to believe what happened on stage earlier held even a small measure of reality. His act thrived with the spectacular illusions. Only illusions. Evers was a fake, and her determination strengthened to discover all his little tricks.

  She turned and smiled, concentrating on her friend’s reflection. Marcy’s beauty amazed her sometimes. Flawless tanned skin enhanced the striking blond streaks in her hair. Bright blue eyes rose and met hers in the mirror.

  “Excited?” Marcy compressed her lips to smooth the fresh coat of frosted pink lipstick.

  “Maybe–a little. I haven’t had time to think about it.” Caitlyn stepped away from the wall. “Hurry up. I want to get this over with.”

  “Oooh, she’s anxious. Why?” Marcy wagged a finger at her. “I know you, Caitlyn. Don’t give me that strong I’m-not-nervous attitude. You’re shaking inside. I can see the vein pulsing in your neck. Don’t be nervous, he’s a man, just like all the rest. Of course, he is famous, rich, has gorgeous looks and his body–I can’t wait to get my hands on him.”

  Caitlyn rolled her eyes. She seriously considered the same thing, but she would never say the words out loud. They sounded vulgar and full of raw emotions, two things she excluded from her life. “Did it ever occur to you that maybe he won’t even notice you?”

  Marcy laughed, a nice throaty sound, and stepped closer, slipping her arm through Caitlyn’s. “Does it matter? How many women do you know can say they had the chance to proposition Shay Evers? To me, that’s more important than actually getting him in the sack.”

  “It’s good to know you’re not as bad as you appear.” She patted Marcy’s hand as they walked, arms entwined, from the ladies room. Caitlyn blinked several times to adjust her sight to the dim light in the corridor. Decorative lights hanging fifty feet above did little to dispel the shadows along the edges of the hall. Darkness lined the way. The eerie atmosphere gave her a chill.

  Several teenage girls dressed in sparkling shirts and tattered jeans brushed passed them. Their overpowering perfume and excited giggles grated on Caitlyn’s frazzled nerves.

  Marcy swung her head toward her and winked. “Did I tell you how fabulous you look? From now on, you’ll wear your hair down. Even without any makeup, this outfit and your hair make a big difference. Of course you still have a long way to go before you’ll match me in looks. Who knows? Evers might notice you and ignore me. Wouldn’t it be wild?” Her eyes lit up with her laugh, and she hugged Caitlyn’s arm tighter against her side. “Just imagine the headlines. Illusionist falls head-over-heels for aspiring news reporter. You’d be set for life.”

  Blood rushed to Caitlyn’s cheeks. Marcy managed to dig her point deep into Caitlyn’s flesh with her words. No matter what she did, she’d never match Marcy in the looks department. Angry, Caitlyn’s answer came out stronger than she’d meant. “I have no intention of ever getting married or falling love. You know how I feel about the subject.”

  Marcy rolled her eyes. “Oh calm down, I was just teasing. You’ll change your mind one day. Who knows? Today might be the day and Shay Evers the man.”

  She shook her head, denying Marcy’s words, but her friend had planted the seed. Deep within her heart, she wanted a relationship with Shay, but in reality, something so fabulous would never happen. She maneuvered Marcy to the right, avoiding a group of giggling fans. The crowds thinned, but a large number of young girls still roamed the halls.

  Marcy pointed to a hallway branching off ahead of them. “Take a right up here. The elevator is there. Second floor and it’s o
ur turn to perform.”

  Caitlyn’s stomach rolled. What was wrong with her? She shouldn’t feel so anxious. Evers was, like Marcy said, just a man. A sharp pang sliced through her. The rational side of her accepted her friend intended to tease her, but now the idea whirled in her head. The schoolgirl jitters inside her refused to go away.

  Lost in her thoughts, she let Marcy monopolize the conversation. The elevator doors opened to a huge social area, and she forced her attention to her surroundings.

  People pooled here and there. Smiles were pasted on everyone’s faces, white teeth flashing and battling for brilliance with all the diamonds and jewels in the room. A few groups wandered from one side of the room to the other. She stepped from the elevator and cool air smacked her in the face, relieving her internal rise in temperature from her thoughts of Evers. Marcy guided her toward the tables set up on the far side of the room.

  “Omigod there he is.” Her friend’s excited murmur reached her above the quiet conversations around them. “Come on, hurry. I’ve seen turtles move faster than you. I don’t want to miss him. These parties don’t usually last long. If you don’t speak to the star at the start, he’ll disappear and you’ll miss your chance.”

  Caitlyn frowned. How had Marcy spotted Evers in the crowd? They shifted right to avoid a group of people, and when she glanced toward the tables, she saw him. With his rear resting against the edge of the last table, he smiled and nodded at the small crowd of people huddled in a semi-circle in front of him.

  Once she noticed him, the room’s perimeter darkened while the light surrounding him took on a luminous glow. A clear glass, half-filled with brown liquid hung loose from his fingertips. Long dark eyelashes hid his eyes for a second, and then gleaming amethyst met and held her gaze.

  The air in her lungs ceased expelling. She failed to force it out. Caught within his brilliant stare, she battled against a wave of dizziness. The slow lowering of his right eyelid released her.

  He’d winked.