He tried to ease past me, but I got directly in his way. He sidestepped me, and now I was sure he wasn't supposed to be there and that he thought no one could see him.
"You aren't invisible, you know," I said, rolling my eyes. "I can see you."
He looked startled, glancing around to either side like he was looking for an exit or for verification that he was more visible than he thought he was. That proved something was wrong.
"Hey!" I yelled again, this time to anyone within earshot rather than to him.
"Security! Intruder! Help!"
The guy looked like he was going to run for it. I grabbed his jacket and held on. He muttered something in Latin and I felt a charge in the air, but nothing happened. That startled him, and I took advantage of the opportunity to reach for his arm. If he was going to get out of here, he was going to have to drag me with him. I tried to dig my heels into the floor, but the tile didn't give me much traction. All this time I was screaming at the top of my lungs. "Hello! Help! Security! Somebody!" Finally, in desperation, I yelled, "Owen!" He better have meant it when he said to just ask if I needed help.
The intruder then gave up on magic and went for physical force, shoving me roughly away from him. He was bigger than I was, so the force carried me across the hallway to hit the opposite wall. There was an audible thunk as my temple smacked into the wall. I slumped to the ground, dazed.
Why wasn't anyone coming? I thought I'd shouted loud enough to wake the dead.
But then the interloper flew back against the other wall, as though someone had thrown him. He remained pinned there, his feet several inches off the floor. He no longer looked like he thought no one could see him.
I turned to see Owen standing in the corridor, his face flushed and his hair mussed, like he'd run the moment he heard my shout. Good old superhero friend Owen. But he wasn't the sweet, shy guy I'd come to know in the past week. He looked like someone I wouldn't want to mess with. If I'd thought the hint of restrained danger he'd shown earlier was sexy, now he was downright hot. I understood why heroines in superhero movies were always swooning into their unitard-wearing heartthrobs'
arms after being rescued. It wasn't that they were shrinking violets or weak girly-girls.
It was just that seeing a man do something so extraordinary and supernatural to save you has a way of making your knees go weak in a very pleasant way. I'd always heard power was an aphrodisiac, but I hadn't considered the possible implications of that when working for a magical company.
The guy pinned to the wall seemed to try to do something to counter whatever it was Owen had done to him. He muttered something in a foreign language, waved his hands, and even twitched his nose, and I felt the tingle of energy that came with magic use, but it didn't do him much good. He remained stuck there.
"Who are you?" Owen asked him in a voice that was soft, yet full of power.
The man opened his mouth to speak, as if compelled to do so, but then he struggled to clamp his mouth shut again. Owen held out his hand, and the packet of papers that had been under the guy's jacket flew to him. The guy continued to struggle.
Owen waved his hand casually, and the man slumped to the ground in a daze.
Now I thought I understood what Rod had meant about keeping Owen shy for safety. The intruder was panting and sweating with effort, while Owen didn't have so much as a bead of moisture on his forehead. I could see where you wouldn't want someone with that kind of power to have a big ego or a sense that anyone owed him anything. If he got it into his head that he wanted to take over the world, it wouldn't be easy to stop him.
Wouldn't you know it, I'd go and develop a thing for a guy who was way out of my league, in so very many ways. A super powerful wizard didn't really fit into my lifestyle. I could just imagine taking him home to meet my folks. I'd have enough trouble explaining my job to them. What could Owen possibly say about his job that wouldn't send my dad off to get his shotgun to scare this weirdo away from his daughter? It would be even worse if I'd inherited my magical immunity from my parents. Then the last thing I needed to do was let anyone magical into my nonwork life. Not that Owen would have the slightest interest in going to Texas and meeting my folks. Hadn't they said during my interview that I came from a very nonmagical place?
The department door opened and Sam flew inside, followed by a crew of large men.
"Took you long enough," Owen said, sounding more like his usual self.
"Aw, I knew you had things under control, boss," Sam said as he landed in front of the intruder. "Take him away, boys."