Read Online Your Magic or Mine? by Ann Macela - Free Book Online Page B

zoo. They hadn’t determined even a tentative schedule for the meetings, although they had come up with a list of possible cities. Ed was going to check availability of the ballrooms in the HeatherRidges and propose a plan.
    Bad idea. If he let Ed set the agenda, he’d lose control of the situation. Ed wouldn’t stop at six weeks and six cities—not when they had identified twelve in their preliminary list. Not if the debates became hotter, and more people got involved. Swords notwithstanding, there would be more and greater fireworks with Prick and the Horners egging each other on. Of course, the excitement would create more demand. Result? Ed would run Morgan and him all over the country all summer. Perhaps even into the fall.
    To accomplish his work, he needed calm and structure in his day-to-day activities. The fewer interruptions the better. He had been looking forward to long summer days of reading, thinking, and writing.
    If the present was an indication, he’d have no peace. He’d already received a number of e-mails about his formula and that ridiculous debate. He’d refused to be drawn into arguments and had developed a standard answer referring the letter-senders to
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. Once they started traveling, however, he could only expect the number of messages and demands on his time to double or triple. Hell, if he had time left for walking the dog, it would be a miracle.
    Control. That’s what he needed. Control of his own schedule, his own life. He’d dance to no one’s tune.
    Samson went still for a moment and stared at something next to a curve in the road. Marcus gripped the leash tighter. When the hound assumed that posture, he’d usually spotted an animal to chase. Sure enough, a cat emerged from behind a gatepost and started to cross the street.
    The dog lunged against the chain. Marcus braced himself, held on with two hands, and said, “No, Samson!” At the sound of his voice, the cat took off running for the house across the road.
    “Damn it, Samson! No! You are not hunting the neighbor’s cat.” Marcus hauled on the leash and used it to pull himself close to the hound, who was still trying to follow his supposed prey. For a relatively small dog, a basenji packed a lot of power, and Marcus held on tightly until the cat had disappeared.
    “Come on, boy, let’s go back.” He tugged on the leash. Samson looked after the cat once more, back up at him, and gave an audible sigh, but he followed readily enough. In a few strides, he was out in front again.
    “Control,” Marcus said. Samson only flicked an ear back and forth at the word.
    Marcus shook his head. Samson was usually obedient, except when he spotted live, furry prey. Then his instincts and genes took over, and discipline was left by the wayside.
    “Control,” Marcus said again, returning to his thoughts before the cat incident. He needed to gain dominance, leadership of the situation, and reduce the tour to a minimum number of cities. Facing Ed by himself, however, might not give him the desired result. Ed was a manipulator par excellence. Look at how he’d played them today with those last two letters. He wouldn’t give in easily.
    Besides, the discussion was significant to the whole practitioner community and to the future of magic. Marcus couldn’t back out entirely, and he certainly didn’t want to be considered an obstructionist. Truth be told, he was proud of his equation and to be making a meaningful contribution to spell-casting. How could he arrange matters for his good but still see that his formula received the fair hearing and subsequent research it deserved?
    What if he and Morgan approached Ed with a united front? After all, they were in the same boat. Both had obligations and plans important to their careers. She didn’t want to traipse all over the country, either. If the two of them stood up to Ed with an agreed-upon plan, they should be able to push it through.
    Yes, that idea offered distinct possibilities—and