Mesmerized: The Magician's Plaything Read online

  Mesmerized: The Magician's Plaything Mallorie Griffin

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  Copyright 2012 Mallorie Griffin

  Check out other works by Mallorie Griffin

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  All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  Wanted: Beautiful young lady to be magician's apprentice. Knowledge of sleight of hand a bonus, but any and all will be considered. Please send resume and photo to [email protected].

  Please note that this is a part-time position, but could possibly move to full-time.

  Tamara sighed and clicked the e-mail link. She'd been out of work for so long that she was desperate at this point, and even a temporary position was appealing. Even a position that took advantage of her relative youth and beauty was appealing.

  Not that she thought she was any sort of catch. She had long dark hair, yes, but that was probably her best attribute. Her mother had always charitably called her appearance aquiline, which is to say, she had a rather impressive nose. It dominated her long thin face, and not even her large dark eyes could draw attention from it.

  She didn't care if this so-called magician found her attractive or not, though. She'd learned long ago, all throughout high school and college that if she didn't take a chance, she'd never get anywhere.

  So, she attached her resume and a recent picture, and sent it off into the ether. Hopefully he'd get back to her, but if not, no harm done.

  It just went to show how badly she needed a job, though. She'd just graduated from college a few months ago, and in that time, she hadn't gotten more than a single interview. She was desperate for just about any job, as long as it wasn't retail. Tammy didn't go all the way through college just to get a job that she could've gotten in high school, after all. She had standards, after all.

  She wondered how long those standards would hold.

  For now, she moved onto the next Craigslist posting, and promptly forgot all about the magician's assistant position. After all, she presumed that it was highly unlikely that she would get a call about it.

  There were lots of pretty and desperate girls out there.

  *****

  Tammy was shocked out of a nap by the rumble of her phone on the nightstand. “Drat,” she muttered, snatching the phone up. She hated falling asleep in the middle of the day – it messed up her entire sleeping schedule – but she'd made the choice to do her job hunting in her bed, and she'd paid the price for that particular risk.

  Too late now. She accepted the call and pressed the phone to her head.

  “Tammy here,” she said shortly, still feeling a little groggy.

  “Ah, yes,” the voice on the other side of the line said. It was a guy's voice, and he had a soft British accent. “I'm calling about your resume.”

  “Yes?” Tammy replied, immediately perking up. Any response to her resume was a good one.

  “Yes,” the man echoed her. “My name is Malcolm Hargrove, and this is in reference to the magician's assistant job.”

  “Oh,” Tammy said, trying to hide the disappointment in her voice. She hadn't even expected a reply about that. She'd submitted it more as a joke than anything.

  “Yes,” Malcolm said, seemingly unshaken by her lack of an enthusiastic response. “Would you care to meet for an interview?”

  “Of course, of course,” Tammy replied. She couldn't afford to turn down any interview, for any position, no matter how small.

  “Very good. When can you meet?”

  “Immediately. I'm free nearly all the time.” Well, that sounded desperate.

  “Can you meet today?”

  Tammy glanced at her clock. It was only three. There was more than enough time for an interview, especially an informal one like this. “Sure!” she finally said more brightly than she was feeling. “Just give me an hour to get ready.”

  Malcolm gave her the details of their meeting place – not a proper office, but a small coffee shop downtown. It only made sense, since this was hardly a conventional job. After she hung up, she felt strangely optimistic about the entire affair. Malcolm seemed genial enough, and his accent was quite nice. Tammy had always been a sucker for British accents.

  But now she had to get ready, and get ready she did.

  She was all business – laying out a pretty but modest black skirt and a slightly more revealing sage green top. She didn't have much in the way of assets to show off, but she figured it wouldn't hurt to flaunt what she had. After all, this position was presumably going to involve skimpy outfits, so she'd better get used to it.

  As she ran to the bathroom to apply a quick coat of makeup, Tammy wondered exactly what this job was going to entail. Of course, she'd seen a lot of TV shows that employed magicians, and their inevitable assistants, but she also knew that TV wasn't always the most accurate representation of reality. Was she really just going to be a scantily clad, living breathing prop to be moved around the set and performed on?

  Not that she minded, but it didn't sound like very fulfilling work. But a job was a job.

  She was ready within the hour, and scurried down the stairs of her shabby apartment complex and into her equally shabby car. She bought everything on a budget. Tammy liked to be as debt-free as possible, even if it meant that she didn't get nice things. She could deal with a cheap car, but she hated that potential employers might be judging her, based on her old wreck.

  No matter. She pumped herself up again, started the car, and made her way to the coffee shop.

  She noticed Malcolm immediately when she entered the little shop. This place was a corporate affair, and designed down to the inch, and she didn't much care for the atmosphere. But Malcolm had suggested it and she certainly wasn't going to contradict him.

  Malcolm, like the coffee shop, was well-groomed and neatly arranged. Hardly even a hair was out of place, and she had to admit that he looked quite dashing in his suit. In fact, he was dressed far better than her. Tammy fought back a flush as she approached the man.

  “Malcolm Hargrove?” she asked, approaching the man and extending a hand, feigning as much enthusiasm and confidence as she could muster. For a moment she pondered whether the man really was Malcolm, but he was the only lone gentleman in the shop. It had to be him.

  Indeed, it was. He stood up from his chair, and took Tammy's hand, smiling conservatively. “Ah, you must be Tamara Dodge. Pleasure to meet you.”

  “The pleasure is all mine,” Tammy replied, and then stifled a gasp as he brought her hand up to his mouth, kissing it softly. She felt a small jolt jump through her body. No man had ever been so cordial to her before.

  Malcolm noticed Tammy's surprise and smiled, though he also dropped her hand. “Pardon me, I'm accustomed to greeting lovely young ladies in that manner.”

  “Lovely?” Tammy said, smiling and flushing even hotter.

  “Indeed. Your photo doesn't even begin to do you justice.” This Malcolm was certainly a charmer, if nothing else.

  “So, about the job,” Tammy said as they both sat down.

  “Would you like a coffee?” Malcolm said, completely ignoring her question, and for the first time, Tammy narrowed her eyes slightly. Was this magician gig just an excuse to meet girls? She'd had her suspicions about it from the beginning, but Malcolm didn't seem like the type of guy who'd have trouble getting a date. If he was a crusty old fat man, she could see it, but he clearly wasn't. He was young, good looking, with a decent body, though it was difficult to tell how good that body was underneath the suit.

  Finall
y, she said, “Yes. Coffee would be nice.” If he had an ulterior motive, so be it. She didn't entirely have a problem with that.

  Malcolm stood again, and quickly went to order the drink.

  “Black, please,” she called after him. He returned within minutes with the coffee, and placed it in front of her. The hot liquid steamed from the cup, filling her nose with coffee-scented aromas. She'd always loved the smell of coffee.

  “So, now we can talk about the job,” Malcolm said with a smile, and Tammy breathed a tiny sigh of relief. Apparently there really was a job. “How susceptible are you to hypnotism?” he asked.

  Tammy stared at Malcolm wish raised eyebrows. She'd prepared herself for all sorts of questions, but not that one. “Um,” she stammered. “I'm really not sure.”

  “Let's find out, shall we?” Malcolm grinned and pulled a watch on a chain out of his pocket watch. Oh no. He had to be kidding. She was starting to think this was some sort of shtick all over again.

  But he had her mesmerized from the moment he started swayed that watch back and forth. His voice was low and calming, and she found herself sinking deeper and deeper into a trance. “You are becoming more and more relaxed, he commanded, and she obeyed. Her eyelids drooped. Her breathing slowed.

  “Stand up,” he said, and Tammy's legs reflexively pushed against the ground. Before she knew it, she was standing. “Sit,” he said, and Tammy came crashing down onto her chair. How had he done it?

  She felt unsettled, but also exhilarated that Malcolm was able to take control of her body, and so easily. A thrill ran down her spine. She'd fantasized about a man like him in other ways, in the past.

  But this was an interview. She couldn't possibly... she couldn't do much of anything, right now.

  Malcolm had her under his spell. He smiled; he knew exactly how much control he had over her.

  “Let's try something. When I say the phrase 'secret weapon', you are to freeze, until I tell you to move again.” He paused, staring at me, and she was certain that he was wondering if she was faking it.

  She wished she could assure him that she wasn't, but she couldn't move, she couldn't speak. she was completely under his control, now.

  “When I snap my fingers, you'll be under your own control again,” he said, and then without waiting, he snapped his fingers.

  Tammy blinked slowly, and shook her head, squirming slightly in her seat. “How did you do that?” she asked.

  He grinned slyly. “Magic.”

  The rest of the interview was far more normal, and far more mundane. He asked her general questions about her life and any plans or goals that she had. He asked about family, friends, things less suited for an interview and more for a date, but she wasn't disturbed or swayed. Tammy was still too unsettled by the hypnotism to notice any of the more probing questions.

  It was the strangest interview of her life, but by the end of it, Tammy was told that she had the job.

  She'd start on Saturday, which was Malcolm's next show.

  *****

  Tammy tugged at the spandex of her skimpy costume. The outfit was exactly how she envisioned it, and she felt more than a bit exposed. This was the least amount of clothing she'd ever worn in public, and in front of a huge audience, to boot.

  One thing Malcolm hadn't told her was that his act was rather popular in one of the casinos on the Las Vegas strip. She peered out from behind the curtain, and could barely make out the packed audience under the dim light. All illumination was on the stage, and Malcolm was set to go out soon.

  She was very glad for the rehearsals they'd gone through the previous day. She knew exactly what to do, which wasn't much.

  And Malcolm... Malcolm was an interesting character. He was mysterious, and the more time Tammy spent with him, the more attractive she found him. She wondered if that hypnotism act of his was restricted to the stage.

  She shook her head. She couldn't believe she was already fantasizing about her boss, on the first day of actual work. She had to get her head in the game. And get it in now, because the show was starting.

  Malcolm went out first as lights blared his stage name: Mesmero Magrido. Tammy counted to ten, and then followed behind, smiling and waving enthusiastically. For the first part of his act, she was jut supposed to stand to the side and look pretty for the audience, as he hypnotized various members. Her part would come up next, for the magic. She was surprised to learn that most magicians didn't combine hypnotism and magic as fully as Malcolm did, which was apparently what made his act so unique and so hot in town.

  She stood back and watched him pull up various audience members, and found herself wishing that it was her being hypnotized. Instead, she merely observed.

  He did all the standard tricks – making people stiff as a board and contorting them in various shapes, making them behave in foolish manners, using code words to have them act out, even when they returned to the audience. Tammy wondered if her code word would still have an effect on her.

  “Secret weapon,” she muttered to herself. Nothing. Apparently it didn't have any sort of effect, but maybe Malcolm had to say it. She didn't know how this worked, after all.

  The first half of the show was easy – relaxing almost – but as soon as Malcolm finished with the hypnotism portion, if was Tammy's turn. She could feel her heart rate increasing, and the damned thing seemed to be crawling up her throat. She'd never been terribly good in front of a crowd. Why had she taken this job again?

  For the money, right. And also because Malcolm was rather fascinating.

  “-my lovely assistant, Tamara!” Malcolm suddenly yelled, yanking Tammy out of her poorly timed introspection. With wide hazel eyes, she jogged up to the front of the stage, in exactly the position Malcolm had drilled her on.

  Perhaps she didn't remember that position quite right, though, for he growled lowly and yanked her over a couple of feet. “This is her first night, ladies and gentlemen, so you'll have to forgive any performance errors,” Malcolm informed the audience with his winning smile and equally winning accent. Tammy could practically see the women in the front of the audience swaying and swooning as he focused his gaze on them individually. He really had a way with women.

  Women in the audience, at least. Tammy was a little miffed about him apologizing for her already, before the act even began.

  She only made a few small errors after that – stumbling as she got on the platform that made her levitate, and forgetting to grimace in mock pain when he sawed her in half. The magic half of Malcolm's act was really rote, from what Tammy knew about magic acts. But she was still looking forward to the end, to the finale. When she would disappear.

  For one, it was exciting and dramatic – she would disappear in a cloud of smoke, and reappear in an ingenious little box about twenty feet from where she'd disappeared. It turned out there was a little hatch in the floor, where she would duck under the stage and crawl up to the box. It was the most interesting part of the show to her, and the part that required the most activity from her.

  And she didn't mind activity. She was sick of just standing around and looking pretty.

  “And now, watch in amazement as the lovely Tamara disappears!” Malcolm now shouted, Tammy's cue to wave and stand over the marked hatch door. There was a loud bang, a billow of thick white smoke, and the hatch opened, right under Tammy's feet. She gave a small involuntary yelp as she was dropped a good five feet under the stage.

  It wasn't a long fall, but it was enough to knock the sense out of her for a few moments. But she didn't have long to dawdle. Malcolm could only delay the reveal for so long. She shook her head and made for the box. It wasn't a long hike; it only took a few seconds, and before she knew it, she was scrambling up the small ladder, and stepping into the place she was supposed to be. The hatch slid closed underneath her feet. Now all she had to do was wait for Malcolm.

  It seemed to take eons though, and her breath seemed to warm the box. She was afraid she was sucking all the oxygen out of the air. It
was quickly growing muggy and humid, and Tammy would have killed for a breath of fresh air. She found herself silently praying to Malcolm to please open the door, and open it now.

  Just when she was about to open the damn door herself, she heard the rasping of wood against wood, and a blinding light dazzled her. The spotlight. Objects swam in her vision and she blinked rapidly, trying to make sense of them.

  Malcolm's face finally sharpened in her gaze, and he yelled, “Thank you, ladies and gentlemen, and good night!” The act was over.

  But instead of letting her out like he had in rehearsal, Malcolm only leaned in, and whispered in her ear. “Secret weapon.” And then he shut the door.

  Tammy's eyes widened as she found herself unable to move. Those words did still have an effect on her, apparently, because she couldn't even twitch a single muscle, no matter how hard she tried. And she was stuck in this box.

  She could hear the low roar of the crowd slowly diminish as the audience filed out. She heard the dull thud of footsteps on the stage, the reverberations vibrating up her feet and legs. The clicks and rattles of tricks being reset by Malcolm's assistants.

  But where was Malcolm? Was he ever going to let her out?

  She was still frozen in place, and she found a slow panic begin to rise. The box was so dark, it was constricting, pushing in on her and sucking out all the air. She swore that she could feel the walls pulsing around her, in time with her rapidly rising heartbeat. She wanted to do nothing more than to throw the door open and run screaming out, but she was still under Malcolm's spell somehow, against all odds and all of her instincts.

  So she could only stand there and wait, scarcely able to breathe. The noises around her subsided, and she was left with something far worse – an overwhelming, dominating silence. And still, she couldn't move.

  Tammy strained her ears, trying to listen for even the slightest sound, but all was silent.

  Which is why it came as a complete surprise to her when the door to the box was thrust open. Her eyes widened in shock and fear as a silhouetted shape slipped in beside her. Hot breath rolled down her face and neck as she was pressed against the back of the box.