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their table. Seth and Jane had disappeared, undoubtedly to celebrate further their good fortune, and Serena felt a stab of pure envy. Even with all the occasional hassles and confusions, their lives seemed so simple to her, and their relationship was so clear—and normal.
    She wondered, not for the first time, if her friends could even begin to imagine how different her life was.
    “I see Chris near the door,” Merlin said, draping Serena’s glittery evening shawl around her shoulders. As she turned to face him, he added slowly, “I don’t think …” He went very still, his black eyes almost glowing, they were so intense.
    The look was familiar to Serena, but each time she saw it she felt respect and wonder and a great deal more, because at such times the incredible power in him was literally tangible. She stood gazing up at him, waiting, unaware that her heart was in her eyes for that brief moment, and that anyone who saw would have known a truth she had spent a great deal of effort to obscure.
    Anyone would have known her secret—except the man she was looking at.
    Merlin relaxed, then looked down at her. His eyes were still vibrant, though they no longer radiated so much of his inner power. “Chris is fine, Serena. You
did
turn the virus inert.”
    She drew a quick breath. “Good. You had me worried there for a while. I sure won’t forget my promise, you can bet on that.”
    He took her arm and began steering her toward an exit. “No, I’m sure you won’t.”
    Serena looked up at him with curiosity as they wended their way from the ballroom and toward the front of the hotel. She kept her voice low and chose her words carefully, conscious of the other departing guests all around them. “You’ve never asked me to promise not to … um … practice what you’ve taught me. The way I did tonight. Why not?”
    Merlin didn’t answer, not until the valet had delivered his car and they were on their way home. Concentrating on the rain-slick streets as he handled the big Lincoln, he said slowly, “How could I ask you to promise you’d never use any of your powers without my approval? It would be like asking a young bird to promise not to fly. But I
can
insist that you learn the dangers of flying, along with the necessary skills needed to fly well. And I can do my best to guide you through the hazards.”
    Serena didn’t respond to that out loud, but she thought about his words all the way home. Perhaps the effects of the champagne were wearing off, but in any case she felt decidedly guilty about her indiscriminate use of her powers.
    The old Victorian house welcomed them with a number of lamps left burning. Most of its rooms were decorated with style and simplicity and were hardly different from any of the neighboring houses. The rooms that
were
different were kept locked whenever they had guests, and not even Merlin’s longtime housekeeper was encouraged to enter them.
    Merlin strode toward one of those rooms as soon as they entered the house. His study. “We should work tomorrow,” he said to Serena, loosening his tie as he paused at the door and looked at her.
    Answering the implicit question, she said, “I don’t have any plans for the weekend, so that’s fine.”
    “Good. I’ll see you in the morning then.”
    Serena said, “Good night,” but found herself addressing the closing door of his study. She stood therefor several moments, slowly removing her shawl. The house was very quiet.
    It wasn’t unusual for Merlin to shut himself in the study and work far into the night, especially during recent months. Since his “normal” life and business occupied a great deal of his time during the day, his real life’s work had to be scheduled for odd hours, weekends, holidays, and vacations.
    After nine years Serena no longer questioned his dedication, his strength, or his stamina. Whatever time and effort it took for Richard Patrick Merlin to make his unusual life succeed, he was prepared to give it.