by Ella M. Lee
“Do you like learning from Ryan?” I asked, curious about how he treated her.
She nodded excitedly. “He’s great. He used to teach college students, like a million years ago. He tells me I remind him of that.” She made a face. “I’m not sure it’s a compliment.”
“I bet it is,” I said. “You both have a great sense of style.”
Tonight, Keisha was dressed in designer jeans and an incredible olive-colored blouse that was perfect for her skin tone. Her jade earrings were no doubt from Nicolas; he bought gifts for all his group members, and Keisha loved jewelry.
“Sometimes Ryan and I go shopping together. Same with Nicolas,” she said. “One of the first days I spent with Nico was shopping. He was looking for a gift for Irina. I didn’t know him well at all, and I thought I would die watching him debate hundred-thousand-dollar Tiffany necklaces like he was deciding on lunch.”
I rolled my eyes. “That sounds like him. How did the two of you meet?”
I had upset her with the question; I could tell immediately. Her eyes darkened, and her whole expression closed up, becoming hurt and sad. I recalled Nicolas telling me he had rescued her from prostitution and was annoyed with myself for not remembering sooner.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean to pry.”
She waved a hand in the air. “It’s okay.” She refilled her glass from our half-empty bottle of wine. “Nicolas said your parents are dead?”
“Yes. It was a long time ago.”
“Well, mine are, too,” she said, frowning.
“I’m sorry. That’s terrible. I know how hard it is.”
“Fourteen months ago.” Her words were toneless.
I winced. “I’m sorry.”
“A week before my eighteenth birthday,” she said. She took a long sip of her wine and looked away. “It was Meteor’s fault.”
Her eyes met mine for a moment, and I knew that Nicolas had told her what had happened to my family, that she and I shared tragedy at Meteor’s hands.
“What happened?” I asked.
“We had only been living here for a year,” she said. “We moved from Malaysia. My parents worked as house cleaners. I helped sometimes. My dad, well, I don’t know how to explain. He owed people money for helping us move to Hong Kong. Triad mafia people. So he had me do work for them sometimes. Not a big deal, really, and if it helped my parents…”
I nodded sympathetically. I used to feel that kind of dedication to my family, that I would do anything to help them because I loved them.
“One night, our apartment building burned down. Nine people died, including my parents. I was there too, but Nicolas got me out. I didn’t know who he was or where he came from. The building was all on fire, but he had walked into it somehow.
“I didn’t want to leave. I really, really didn’t. But he said my parents were already dead, that I’d be dead too if we didn’t go right now. But I still wouldn’t leave. So he picked me up and threw me over his shoulder and dragged me out of there. ‘There’s nothing you can do,’ he kept saying.”
She wasn’t crying, but her eyes were glassy. I felt terrible for her. She clearly felt guilty about making it out alive.
“Nicolas was right,” I said. “The only thing you could have done was gotten yourself out. Your parents would have told you the same. They would have wanted that.”
“Yeah, I know,” she said. “Everyone says that, so of course I know.”
“Nicolas took you in then?” I asked, hoping to distract her.
“Not quite,” she said. “He took me to a hospital and left me with a ton of money. I didn’t want to talk to him. I was mad at him. Stupid, I know. He left his business card and said to call him if I wanted a job that didn’t involve working nights.
“I didn’t know how he knew, but the Triads had been terrible to me lately, and my parents dying made it worse. They basically owned me now that my dad wasn’t alive to pay them back.
“It was a week before it got bad enough that trusting Nicolas, a stranger, seemed like a better option. I called him, and he met with me, and we talked. It took a couple of weeks to figure things out, but he showed me magic and introduced me to Dan. The magic is cool, but I honestly don’t care that much about it. I just want to be safe and happy.”
“Don’t we all?” I agreed, and she gave me a weak smile.
“I think that’s true,” she said. “I think that I’m slowly getting that here.”
“Same,” I said. “Nicolas seems to have a thing for rescuing people.”
“Everyone is scared of Nicolas, and I know that’s his goal, but I just think he’s weird. He’s strange and cold and demanding, and I’m not sure he has a personality, but he’s not scary.”
“Nicolas is careful to show people exactly what they need to see,” I said. “It wouldn’t have been useful for him to frighten you, so he didn’t. I can tell you that I found him incredibly frightening and intimidating when we met. The first thing he did was threaten to have me tortured and executed.”
Keisha’s eyes went wide. “Really?”
“Really,” I said, smiling awkwardly. “The situation was very different. He was acting the way he knew I would expect him to. I was far more confused by his kindness than by his threats.”
“I was a little confused by his kindness too,” Keisha admitted. “That day we shopped for necklaces for Irina, he bought me a gift too. My birthday was the day before. I had no idea why he was being nice. Now I know he likes buying things for people. Just another of his weird quirks. I wonder how much jewelry Irina has. They’ve known each other forever.”
“So he and Irina are close?” I asked.
I was still trying to get an understanding of Irina. I could have asked Dan or Ryan, but I was nervous and still working up to touching on the painful parts of me joining their group.
“Close?” Keisha echoed. “I don’t know. I don’t think so. She’s closer to Sylvio and Chandra and Ryan. But I know she and Nicolas respect one another a lot.”
“I haven’t even met her yet. Not sure I want to.”
“Don’t worry,” Keisha said, waving her hand. “It will work out.”
I shook my head and sighed. Everyone said that as though they were all sure of our future. I seemed to be the only one with any uncertainty.
Currently I felt even more uncertainty, now that I’d been so unceremoniously rejected by Nicolas. He was a consummate professional. I doubted he would give the whole ordeal a second thought, but I was still wondering what to say to him next time I saw him.
I sighed again. “Tea?” I asked Keisha. “I can’t wait to cook in this kitchen, it’s awesome. Where did you find this tea set?”
I filled the teapot as I listened to her launch into the story of refurbishing the kitchen, happy we could both have a chance to recover from the seriousness of our previous conversation.
I somehow managed to avoid Nicolas for the whole day. After Keisha left, which was pretty late, I fell asleep on top of a book Dan had recommended about the history of my new home, Hong Kong.
Unfortunately for me, I lived a mere hundred feet away from Nicolas, and not answering his texts did not make him disappear from my life.
It was morning. I had just finished some stretching and was doing a few off-ice figure skating jumps for fun. I was mid-jump when I caught movement in the corner of my eye and startled, falling to the floor with a crack.
Nicolas was standing in my apartment doorway. He was perfectly dressed for the day, all in black, which meant he was probably conducting clan business. His tawny eyes were wide. He had tensed in alarm, his hands half reached toward me.
I waved him off, wincing, dragging myself to my knees. I rubbed my elbow.
“Christ,” I said. “How exactly can someone with magic like yours sneak around?”
He held up his right hand, displaying his block-sync ring, the small innocuous device which could suppress the entire presence of his gorgeous magic in others’ vision.
“I’m on my way to a council meeting. Flashy magic is frowned upon there,” he said. He hesitated. “Your shield was down.”
“I was on my way out. Just having a little fun first. Well, it was fun before I went crashing into the floor.”
“I’m sorry about that,” he said. “I didn’t think I’d be interrupting anything so intense.”
“Did you need something?”
“You haven’t returned my texts. I imagine someone would have told me if you had died, but I was worried nonetheless.”
I waved him in. “Have a seat.”
I watched as he shut the door and took a seat on my couch. He crossed his legs at the ankle and cast his eyes around. “Keisha did an excellent job here.”
“Yeah,” I said, looking around awkwardly. “I suppose I should thank you. Six-hundred-dollar linen sheet sets don’t buy themselves.”
He smiled. I really hated that he could be calm and collected, and I was here feeling embarrassed and self-conscious, hopping from foot to foot.
“Did you think I would give you anything but the best?” he asked.
“All right,” I said. “As much as I’m usually up for listening to your sweet talking, we both have places to be. If you’re here to say something, I think it would be best if you cut to the chase.”
Because I can’t stand here and flirt with you without my heart imploding, I thought and then immediately felt embarrassed by that too.
Nicolas put his hands together carefully. “I merely wanted to apologize for yesterday. I didn’t mean to reject you without offering a reason, but you caught me off guard, and I had barely put a complete thought together before you were out the door.”
“Okay,” I said. I crossed my arms, waiting.
“You see,” he said, “I’ve been very unfair to you these past weeks. I’ve been manipulating you. Not intentionally, not at all, but simply because I can’t help it. There are downsides to my abilities, and this is one of them: I can’t make a genuine connection with someone because I’m practically incapable of not responding to people’s desires. If I’m so inclined, I naturally give people whatever they want and tell them what they want to hear, and it makes them like me—or even love me.
“Normally, I wouldn’t care. The capacity to get those kinds of positive responses can be helpful when I need it. I’ve used people that way before and have been glad to do so.”
He paused and sighed, closing his eyes for a moment.
“But I can’t do that to you. I care about you too much. I’m not going to lure you in and twist your thoughts around and drive you crazy over something that isn’t real. I won’t hurt you that way. I’m pleased to be your commander, and I’m happy that I could hold you together when you needed it, but I don’t think it’s wise for us to continue whatever it is we’re doing.”
I studied Nicolas. His cold facade was slipping, and I could see legitimate grief and unhappiness in his eyes. I didn’t need to grill him to know he was being honest. He genuinely believed he was doing the best thing for me, genuinely believed he was hurting me and that he needed to stop.
Genuine.
I frowned. “I have a question, if you don’t mind.”
He opened his palms in invitation.
“Which parts of the last few weeks weren’t genuine?”
“Pardon?” he said, tilting his head at me. I smiled; I had startled him into speaking French.
“You said you were manipulating me,” I clarified. “I just want to know exactly what wasn’t real. Let’s forget the first week because I think we both understand that one pretty well. But… the rest of it. What was fake? For instance, all the compliments you gave me, how you told me that I’m clever and resilient and brave and beautiful. None of that is true?”
He blinked, his eyes now wide and appraising. “That is all true,” he said, his voice harsh and low. “I swear.”
“Okay,” I said. “Then… all the times you put your hands on me and held me. Purely for my benefit? Your hands never lingered on me because you liked it?”
He smiled. “Of course I liked it. I would have held you closer and longer if I thought I could get away with it.”
“So, the flirting?” I asked. “All the witty remarks and teasing and seductive smiles were just because you thought I needed it?”
He shook his head and smiled shyly. “I couldn’t resist. You completely disarm me. I enjoyed every second of it.”
“I’m confused, then. It’s hardly manipulation if everything you said and did and felt was real.”
I would have laughed if the situation hadn’t been so serious. I had never seen Nicolas at a loss for words. Not when he had captured me and threatened me, not when he had needed to say all the right things to keep me from crumbling to pieces, not even when he had faced Derek and the stakes had been higher than he would have liked.
But here he was, sitting before me, unable to offer even a single one of his perfectly crafted sentences. If anything proved my words, it was his complete inability to figure out a response to me.
“I see you trying to come up with arguments,” I said. “It won’t work. I’m not as smart as you, but I know bullshit when I hear it.”
Nicolas was still frozen, and I was glad of it, because I wasn’t done.
“Speaking of that—do you remember what I said to you before our first, very disastrous date? That you need a strong woman, one who won’t let your bullshit cloud her judgment? I was not wrong, because this is some serious gaslighting you’re doing here.”
He opened his mouth, but I held up a hand. I was annoyed, and that was somehow keeping my more fragile emotions at bay.
“Listen,” I said. “Your life is hard and complex. I would understand if you didn’t want this thing between us to continue because you’re worried it will distract you or make you less effective or whatever. You have a million things going on in your head, and a whole host of people to worry about. I would absolutely forgive you if you gave me that reasoning and walked away.
“But do not make this about me,” I continued. “Do not pretend like these past weeks weren’t real, and don’t do this out of some misguided intent to protect me. If you’re going to make this decision, make it for yourself. I know you aren’t afforded that opportunity often, the ability to make a choice about your own life, but you gave me choices when you could, and I will give you the same in return. If you’re going to walk away, walk away because it’s the best choice for you.
“And if you’re not walking away? Well, go plan us a goddamn date, then, because I want to give this a chance. That’s my choice.”
I watched him carefully, but he didn’t seem angry or annoyed or offended. That would be rich of him, to barge into my apartment and condescend to me and then get upset because he didn’t like what I had to say. That would be so like him—entitled and arrogant.
I planted my hands on my hips. “Either way, get out of my apartment. I’m busy.”
He looked dazed. With graceful, deliberate steps, he came to stand before me. I recognized his lovely black blazer; he had worn it the day he first took me out of my cell. I touched the textured lapels carefully and straightened his tie by a millimeter. It was tied in a Van Wijk knot, slim and elegant. I’d seen him use it several times before. His attention to detail always impressed me.
He cupped my cheek with his right hand, and I looked into his eyes, trying and failing to prevent myself from getting lost in them.
“Tu es magnifique,” he said quietly.
His hand was gone from my skin the next moment, and he stepped around me while I stood still, completely melted.
I’d never felt magnificent around Nicolas. In my opinion, it was he who produced all the magnificence. He was a radiant star, the sort who would go supernova while you watched helplessly, unable to look away, consumed by it. But maybe magnificence attracted more magnificence. Maybe it created it. Who knew?
And I might have just somehow managed to willingly let that go, by en
couraging him to make a choice I wouldn’t have been able to make myself.
Arm yourself, my heart: the thing that you must do is fearful, yet inevitable.
Euripides wrote that line. There is nothing more strengthening than the words of the oldest poets and playwrights. They endured that which kills everything else, even magicians: time.
Wrapping myself in the comfort of words was something I had done forever, and it helped to do it now.
It helped me ignore the fact that if another second had gone by with Nicolas standing before me, I would have wrapped my arms around him and kissed him and done anything to keep him.
Chapter 6
I somehow managed not to cry. I somehow managed to get myself through sparring with Daniel, magic lessons with Ryan, and an extensive overview of our group’s data handling and intelligence gathering protocols with Teng.
Teng was as frightening as ever, but he also took ten minutes at the end of his lesson to go over some elemental magic with me. It was easy to see why Nicolas had hired him and trusted him. Every slight shred of magic he controlled was incredible. I was too afraid to ask how long he’d been in the clan, but it had to have been decades—perhaps as long as Ryan.
As I was about to leave, Cameron breezed through the door of the apartment.
“Fiona,” he said, greeting me with a cordial nod.
“Hey, Cameron,” I said, always unfailingly polite with my new group mates. Despite his appearance—tall and broad and with several distinctive scars—he was less intimidating than most of Nicolas’s other subordinates.
“Everything going well?” he asked.
“Yeah,” I said.
“Good.” He ran a hand through his shaggy red hair and looked past me to Teng. “Can you bring the new server online tonight?”
“It just needs the SSH keys for the secure connection, then it’s all yours,” Teng said.
Cameron nodded, and I watched as he continued into what I thought was a bedroom. I furrowed my brow. Did he live here with Teng? Were they friends? Lovers? In a relationship? I’d have to ask Daniel some other time; I certainly wasn’t going to ask Teng.
