Enchanted. Judith Leger

       Caitlyn. Two weeks until her birthday. Two weeks until her death.

      The words seeped through Shay’s mind, filling every fissure to overflowing. He had to save her. Time ran too fast, and even magic couldn’t slow the days ahead.

      Hoping for distraction, he glanced out the tinted window as the limousine glided along the curb in front of a sleek, mirror-glassed building where his agent, Lance Parker, leased office space. There, an array of reporters, with their corresponding photographers, milled about on the sidewalk.

      Shay likened them to wolves, seeking to devour him whole. He hated the rangy beasts, having been attacked and severely wounded many years before. Now these human canines waited, some in dull wrinkled clothes, others in expensive suits or dresses. Yesterday, his requested press release had informed them of his arrival in Los Angeles for tonight’s performance. Today, they lay in wait for him at all the places listed on the press release where he might show up during his stay. He doubted Lance had missed a single tabloid with the announcement.

      The limo pulled to a stop at the corner. The dark tint on the windows dulled the camera flashes as the photographers rushed forward. His heartbeat accelerated with excitement when he noticed his dark-haired agent elbowing his way past the crowd.

      A bodyguard’s suited arm appeared and pulled the door open. Crisp, cold air mixed with exhaust fumes poured through the opening, ruffling Shay’s hair. Heels clacked on the concrete, and shouted questions spewed from the crowd as they shoved and pushed to take advantage of the chink in his protective barrier.

      Shay shot a glance at the golden-haired man sprawled on the leather seat next to him. Rhys, casually attired in dark slacks and navy sweater, lifted a brow in return. Sudden panic came over Shay, bringing a contrary need to laugh. Uncontrollably. His freedom would soon end. Rhys would see to it. His long-time friend’s faith had ended years ago, and it was his fault.

      With his power, Shay had been lucky he still lived. If only he’d not listened to one woman, none of this would have happened. With the news he hoped to get, for the first time in twenty-five years, hope for Caitlyn bloomed, but also for a possible healing of his friendship with Rhys.

      Until he met Rhys’s eyes.

      Was that hatred he saw darkening the blue? Shay swiped sweaty palms over the leather pants encasing his thighs, but his hands stuck for a second. No doubt, it’d take much more than saving Caitlyn for Rhys to forgive him.

      When he faced the door’s opening, Lance dove through the crowd, stopped for a second to speak to the guard, then ducked into the limo. The door swung shut, muting the clicks from the cameras and the onslaught of questions. Shay studied his agent as Lance settled against the seat backing the driver. His skin prickled in anticipation for whatever news Lance brought him about Caitlyn.

      Lance extended a plastic case containing a DVD. “I knew I could count on you to be on time. This just arrived by special courier. Reiley’s last newscast. All the arrangements have been made.” Breathless from his dash to the vehicle, he spoke faster than normal. His gaze shifted to Shay’s left and snagged on the other occupant of the limo. “So. Who’s your friend?”

      Glad for the distraction, Shay held back a smile and took the case. He stared at the silver disk through the milky cover. “He’s an old friend of mine. Rhys. Lance Parker, my agent. Rhys is in town on business.”

      “What do you do? Acting, music? Illusions like Shay’s?” Lance reached out with a neatly manicured hand and shook Rhys’. He shifted back and tugged his suit sleeves. Charm oozed from the practiced smile plastered across his face. When Rhys didn’t reply right away, Lance surveyed the slender blond man and continued, “If you need an agent, let me know. With your looks and body, you can go a long way.”

      Unable to think of a better profession for Rhys, Shay commented. “He’s a gardener.”

      His long-time friend deserved a reduction in status for arriving in Los Angeles without warning. Shay angled a remote at the divider next to his agent. A built-in, flat-screen DVD player rose from the seat and the drawer slid open. Handling the DVD with care, he placed it in the tray and closed the drawer.

      Lance frowned. “Gardener?”

      Shay glanced at Rhys and resisted the urge to grin. Rhys wouldn’t like the idea of everyone believing he worked for Shay. The slender man sat relaxed, his long legs propped up on the opposite seat. His finely etched features complemented the white-blond hair tied back with a black leather strip. He radiated quiet confidence and superiority, belying the tension seething beneath his calm facade. Muscles taut, Shay waited for the first words from Rhys. The older man had to follow his lead or all his well-laid plans would fall apart.

      Rhys’s keen gaze turned toward him for a moment before moving onto Lance. “Yes, a gardener. I supervised the landscaping for Shay’s home.”

      The low, accented voice flowed over Shay. He loved sounds. Loud, quiet, tinkling, clunks, all sounds. Even silence pleased him. Some, like heavy machinery, distracted him. Listening to Rhys’s lyrical Welsh tones soothed him. He needed soothing. Time was disappearing too fast.

      “You did that?” Lance stared open-mouthed.

      Ignoring the two men, Shay focused on the voice coming over the speaker. His heart pounded once before speeding up. He tried to slip from the leather seat, but the leather on his pants caught and halted his forward motion. As he teetered on the edge, an urge to fall to his knees in respect came over him. Instead, he leaned closer to the screen and stared at the dark-haired reporter, his breath suspended at the back of his throat. Excitement over finally finding and seeing her filled him, and he had to struggle to keep his expression noncommittal.

      Caitlyn Reiley.

      Her name meant pure beauty. Shay searched for the evidence on her face, but from what he could tell, her years in the human world had concealed her true beauty. Plain, perhaps dull, better described her.

      Her slender figure was adorned in a simple navy suit. She appeared fragile. The genuine texture of her skin lay hidden behind a coating of makeup. The light coloring seemed wrong on her, and even caused her features to appear vague and unattractive. Dark-rimmed glasses obscured the beauty of her green eyes. Those eyes lacked the magical vitality that existed in every daughter of the Sidhe. Yet, she was the one he had been searching for the past four years. He sensed a different aura about her than what he noticed in normal humans. Almost as if her powers leaked through the cracks in the spell placed on her.

      Lance frowned as he turned to the screen. “Why her? You could have anyone–Barbara, Joan, Maria–but you chose this.”

      Rhys coughed, and Shay sensed his friend’s increasing hostility at the unintentional insult to the woman. Lance didn’t need to realize how important Caitlyn was to him, so Shay murmured, “I want to keep the viewers focused on me, not the reporter.”

      With his gaze centered on the young woman reporting in clear and precise phrases, he waited to see if he had succeeded. He held his breath, not sure of what to expect with Lance’s response.

      His agent stayed silent for a few seconds. Shay’s eye twitched as a bark of laughter erupted from him. “I should have known. You don’t want to share the limelight with a famous