by D. G. Swank
I handed the phone back to Arthur. It would have been pointless to try to keep it. Might as well attempt to earn his trust so I could take advantage of it later.
“What now?” I forced out. “Do you want me to dissolve my illusion?”
“No,” he said, watching me closely as he pocketed his phone again. “I want you to leave it. I have another surprise for you. One I think you’ll enjoy.”
Chapter Fourteen
When we went inside, Arthur led the way to the second floor landing, and my stomach dropped to my feet when I realized we were on the same floor where they were keeping Logan. I was dying to ask where we were going, but my pride wouldn’t let me. A guard was sitting in a chair in front of Logan’s door, and he hopped up, standing at attention when he saw us.
“Good morning, Gilbert,” Arthur said. “We’ll be paying a visit to our other guest.”
I almost snapped back that neither of us were guests, but I was in too much shock. Besides, I wasn’t supposed to know Logan was here. If I let on that I did know, it could mean trouble for Lisa.
Just like the other guards, Gilbert didn’t look too pleased with this turn of events. “I have strict orders to keep him in solitary.”
“And your orders have changed,” Arthur said, motioning to the door. “Let us in.”
Gilbert stared him down for a few moments. I was sure he was going to refuse the request, but then he pushed out a long breath and said, “This is on your head, Arthur.”
“I take full responsibility,” Arthur said, gesturing toward the door. “Unlock it, then message Marni in the kitchen and tell her to send up the tray I requested.”
Gilbert’s mouth pinched in frustration, but he pulled out his keys and unlocked the door, pushing it open as he stood back.
I held my breath, unsure if Arthur showing me Logan was a good or a bad thing. Now he could use Logan as a threat, and it would be an effective one. But all other considerations slipped out of my head when I saw Logan strapped down to the bed again. I let out a little moan—hopefully Arthur would read it as surprise—and rushed across the room to him.
Logan’s eyes widened with fear when he saw me, and he jerked on his bindings. “If you do anything to hurt her—”
“Calm yourself, Mr. Gillespie,” Arthur said in a soothing tone. “Ms. Whelan was quite cooperative this morning, so I decided to reward her with a visit. I thought it would boost morale for the both of you.”
This seemed too good to be true, but I planned to make the best of the situation. “I want to untie him.”
“As you wish,” Arthur said.
I quickly untied his hands, and then we both worked on his ankles. As soon as Logan was free, he turned on Arthur, looking ready to pounce, and for the first time, I saw a hint of malice in the older man’s eyes.
“Mr. Gillespie, I hope you enjoy your new freedom, but keep in mind that we will hold Rowan personally responsible for any trouble you make from here on out.”
Logan stilled and wrapped an arm around me, putting more distance between me and the man I’d spent the morning with. “You mean you’ll punish Rowan if I fight back.”
“And vice versa,” Arthur said, holding out his hands. “If Rowan gives us trouble, we’ll hold you accountable. It only seems fair.”
Just then, Marni appeared at the door, holding a tray. Her eyes widened when she saw me with Logan, as she scanned the room for someplace to set the tray. The space was devoid of furniture but for the miserable bed.
“Gilbert,” Arthur said, “would you please bring in a nightstand or something to set this tray on?”
“While you have him untied? I don’t think so.”
A smug smile lit up Arthur’s face. “I think our guest will behave now, or he’ll see Ms. Whelan instantly punished. I’m sure he’d hate to see her suffer third-degree burns.”
Was that Arthur’s magic or Gilbert’s? Funny, I’d spent the entire morning with Arthur and never once questioned what he could do.
Logan tried to push me behind him, as though he could save me from two mages and a witch. I rolled my eyes and stood by the bed, my heart pounding in my chest even though I tried to pretend like I was unfazed by all of this. “We get it, Arthur. He gets it. Now how about letting us eat our lunch in peace?”
To my surprise, Arthur grinned. “Marni, set the tray on the bed. We’ll deal with possibly adding more furniture later.”
Marni set the tray holding two sandwiches, some chips, and two bottles of water on the floor by the door and quickly walked out.
“Hold on, Marni,” Arthur called after her. “We need to discuss your next assignment.” He walked toward the door and stopped, glancing back at me. “We’ll meet again after later today, after dinner. This is a gift of good faith, Rowan. Please don’t make me regret it.” Then he turned around and walked out, closing the door behind him.
Logan hopped off the bed and pulled me to his chest, wrapping his arms around me and holding me close. “Jesus, Rowan. How are you here?”
“I think I just got played.”
He held me out a few inches, looking me over. “Did they hurt you?”
“Strangely enough, not today.” Not yet, anyway, but the day was still young. “Donall’s gone, so I got to work with Arthur.”
His eyes perked up. “Donall’s gone?”
I took note of his stance—he was standing on one foot while resting his other knee on the bed. “Don’t get any bright ideas,” I said, keeping my gaze on his broken leg. “Just because Donall’s gone doesn’t mean we can make a break for it.”
“There’s no better time to make a break for it. That guy can read minds, right?” When I reluctantly nodded, wondering how he knew that, he said, “Then we need to try to escape while he’s gone. If he’s here, he’ll know what we’re doing before we do it.”
He was right, of course, but there was the small matter of his broken leg. “Let’s slow down for a moment. We can’t bust out of here without a plan. You must be starving. We’ll talk while we eat.”
I pushed his chest, and he frowned as he took a seat. I picked up the tray and set it on the end of the bed, then handed him one of the paper plates. “Arthur told Marni to make two nice lunches. I’d hate to see what not-so-nice lunches look like.”
“I’ve seen them. They’re barely edible.” Logan picked up the sandwich and took a huge bite, barely chewing and swallowing before he took another. I realized he was truly starving, which made me feel guilty for the pancakes I’d eaten hours ago.
I cringed as I sat next to him. “I’m sorry.” I held my sandwich out to him. “Do you want mine? I’m not hungry.”
He started to reach for it, then stopped. “You’re just trying to be nice.”
I laughed. “You’ve seen my YouTube show. Since when am I nice when it comes to food?”
He grinned. “You have a point.”
“Besides, it’s turkey.” His eyes widened with concern, but I waved him off. “Just give me some of those chips and we’re good. I had pancakes for breakfast.”
He made a face as he took my sandwich. “Got the royal treatment, huh?”
“Yeah.” I thought I was onto their con. More brainwashing. This was a classic good cop, bad cop routine. “They’re up to something. This new guy is trying to butter me up, tell me I’m special…” I had to wonder if Donall was really gone at all.
“You already know they think you’re special. They think you’re the only one who can read the book.”
I took a bite of one of the chips and shook my head as I looked up at him. “How are you taking this all in stride? Do you even know what’s going on?”
He took the last bite of his sandwich, then reached over and grabbed one of the bottles of water.
“You’re a witch,” he said matter-of-factly as he unscrewed the cap.
“Do you know what that means?” I asked, incredulous.
“My aunt was a witch.”
I stared at him in disbelief. Then I realized he’d
used a past tense verb. “What happened to her?”
“She died a few years ago.” He shot a glance toward the door. “Natural causes. She made it sound like a harmless community. I never realized it was so dangerous.”
“It’s normally not,” I said, grabbing the other water bottle.
“Says the witch who’s spent her life guarding a book full of evil.”
“You figured that part out too, huh?” I asked.
He gave me a pointed look. “I’m about to make detective. It’s my job.”
I supposed that made things easier, but I was still struggling to process how much he knew. “You never showed any sign of having magic?”
“She was my aunt by marriage. No magic on my side.”
“She wasn’t supposed to tell you. We’re not allowed to tell nonmagicals.”
He shrugged. “She told us.”
I couldn’t get over his blasé-faire attitude, but then a new thought hit me. “When did you figure out that I was a witch?”
“Not until we went to the cemetery on your land.” His eyes narrowed. “And you bound me with duct tape.”
“I’m sorry.” I couldn’t bring myself to look at him. “You have no idea how sorry I am. I should have left you at the bar.”
He cupped my cheek and turned my face to look at him. “You realize I never would have let that happen, right? I wasn’t about to let you go off alone.”
I pushed out a sigh. “Logan.”
“I understand why you couldn’t tell me what was really going on. I know you’re not supposed to talk about it. I’d never met another witch before, so it never occurred to me to consider it. But I really wish you hadn’t bound me.”
“I was trying to protect you, but when Donall said he was going to kill you…”
His gaze held mine. “I lost my shit when he hurt you. If I hadn’t been bound…” A grim look washed over his face. “I would have killed him.” His eyes hardened. “I still might.”
Panic swamped my head. I reached over and grabbed his wrist, as if I could physically stop him from doing anything so risky. “You have to promise me you won’t do anything to him.”
“I can’t do that, Rowan.”
I pulled his hand down and squeezed tight. “Logan, you’ll never be able to defeat him. Promise me.”
He started to say something, then leaned down and kissed me instead.
The kiss caught me by surprise. I pushed against his chest, but as he started to pull away, I wrapped my hands around his head and held him in place, kissing him back.
My permission emboldened him. He slid an arm around my back as he used his other hand to tilt my head back, allowing him to deepen the kiss.
Somewhere in the back of my head, I knew this was a bad idea. There was the very real possibility that one or both of us wouldn’t make it out of here alive…and yet, wasn’t that all the more reason to enjoy each other while we could? Kissing Logan felt so right. So perfect. From the way he cocooned me with his arm to the way his fingers gently stroked my cheek. But it was more than that. Being near him made my senses come alive. Kissing him reached deep into my soul. I couldn’t imagine what it would be like to do more.
He lifted his head, his eyes filled with lust and concern. “I’ll figure out a way to get us out of this.”
That caught my attention. I pushed on his chest with one hand, providing some space between us. “Hey,” I said, not hiding my irritation. “You don’t have to save me from anything. If either of us is going to save the other, it’ll be me. With magic.”
He studied me for a few moments, his expression inscrutable, then shook his head. “No. We’ll do it together. Partners.”
“Partners,” I repeated, trying to think of the last time I’d partnered with someone other than my sisters. Probably my lab partner in junior year chem class in high school.
“Now tell me what’s going on.”
So I told him everything. I spent the next ten minutes telling him about the Book of Sindal, how Phoebe, Celeste, and I had been its guardians since we were little more than children, and how secluded our lives had been since then. At the risk of looking like a loser, I told him that Phoebe and Celeste had rarer talents than mine and that our mother had spent more time with them developing their gifts. Then I told him about the first time our paths had crossed with the Dark Set—how they’d stolen Celeste and the book and knocked Phoebe and me unconscious for an entire day. How Brandon had taken Phoebe with him to track down the spell Donall had used, leaving me alone at the farm with his men. I even told him the book could only be opened with the blood of all the Whelan sisters.
“I don’t know what I’m going to do when they realize I can’t read the book like they think I can,” I admitted.
“What if you can?” Logan asked quietly.
I shrugged, staring out the window. “Don’t you think I’d know if I could?”
“I’m not sure. You told me that your mother spent more time working with your sisters. What if she overlooked something in you?”
I shook my head, turning to face him. “I don’t want you to think she ignored me. She did spend time with me. It’s just that my talent is a basic ability almost every witch and mage is born with. Hells, I’m sure your aunt used it at times. But Phoebe’s gift of ancestral magic takes much more practice and finesse to use, and Celeste… her expression magic was messing with her mind, even back then. As we got older, Mom spent the most time with her.”
“But you were the oldest,” Logan said, obviously unwilling to let this go. “In theory, your mother should have started working with you first, which would have given you more one-on-one time.”
I shook my head again. “Phoebe’s only a year younger than me. Like I said, most witches can glamour. My parents figured I was late to develop a talent, and Celeste’s abilities showed up really early, so by the time they figured out my specialty was glamouring, Mom had already started working with both of my sisters.”
“What about your father?”
“He worked with us a little but not much. Our mother said that Whelan women taught Whelan girls. It’s been like that for centuries.”
He seemed to consider my words. “It just seems like they could have helped you more,” he finally said with a frown. “I hate that you think so little of yourself.”
I tried to figure out how I’d given him the—correct—impression that I felt inferior to my sisters, but I came up short.
He gave me a sad smile. “It was the way you spoke about them and your mother.”
I pushed out a sigh. “My past doesn’t mean a thing right now. I’ve got to—” I twisted my mouth, “—we’ve got to figure out how to get out of here.”
“I don’t know much about the layout of the building. What have you seen?”
I sat back, pressing my back against the wall. “Not much. They’ve kept me on the floor above us. Other than that, I’ve spent most of my time in the basement. Trust me, we do not want to go down there.”
He scooted back to sit next to me, grabbing my hand and lacing our fingers together.
“I did get to go out back today.”
“Outside?” he asked, perking up. “Why?”
“Arthur thought I needed a little fresh air, plus I think he’s been watching a little too much reality television, because he set up a glamour design competition between Marni and me. I won, and my reward was that I got to call my sister.”
“Which one?”
“Phoebe. Since Brandon is her supposed boyfriend, I hoped that he might be able to help, but I’m concerned about his loyalty. Anyway, he was of little use and Phoebe was cryptic.”
“How so?”
I told him about her ramblings about our mother taking us stargazing when we were kids. While I still thought it was some sort of hidden message, I was no closer to cracking the code.
“Orion and Sirius?” he asked. “Orion was a hunter, of course. Sirius was his dog.”
“What does that have to do with
anything?”
“She said two days later your mother woke you at two a.m. to see the constellations?”
“Yeah, but that never happened.”
He glanced at the door, then lowered his voice to barely a whisper. “What if Brandon is coming to break you out in two days at two in the morning?”
I narrowed my eyes. “What are you talking about?”
“Think about it. You said Brandon’s a tracker—he hunts spells.”
I considered it for a moment and felt my hope begin to rise. Maybe my prejudice against Brandon was blinding me to what was right before my eyes. “I think you’re right. But who is Sirius?”
“It could be your sister, or it could be someone else he trusts. One of his agents?”
“Judah,” I said. “He was the guard who stayed with me while Phoebe and Brandon were out looking for the book and Celeste. Brandon trusts him implicitly.”
“She was trying to give you a message.”
Or was she? She had to know that Donall would be able to pick any information he pleased out of my head. Except…maybe she knew Donall wouldn’t be back until after the escape attempt. Or hell, for all I knew, she’d legitimately remembered an event I’d forgotten. I pushed out a frustrated sigh.
Logan slid his arm behind my back and snugged me to his side, placing a kiss on my forehead. “We’ll be prepared for them to show up, and if they don’t come, we’ll know we got it wrong. It’s not like there’s anything we can specifically do to get ready for an escape.”
“No,” I said, pulling away a little. “We don’t know when Donall’s coming back, but we should get out of here before he does. We need a plan. If Brandon and Phoebe show up to help, great, but we can’t sit around waiting.”
“Okay,” he said, “so we’ll think of a plan.”
Both of us waited for the other to say something. We burst out laughing at the same time, and I shook my head at the impossibility of the situation.
“We’re doomed,” I said.
“No, we’ll figure it out, Ro,” he said, touching my hair. “But let’s take a moment. I think we both need one. What did Arthur have you do for the competition?” he asked.
