Real Magic

by Lissa Michaels

  Drake’s heart stopped. “You’re serious.”

  She nodded and picked at the sheet with her fingertips, her teeth worrying her bottom lip.

  Gods, she faced down her council and told them she wanted him. No decent woman had ever openly admitted she wanted him—not for more than sex. Not since he’d been banished. It felt damned good. Too damned good. He had to be missing something. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I didn’t want you to refuse the cuff’s protection because you didn’t want me.” She turned her gaze to him, and he saw the fear in her eyes. She really didn’t think he wanted her. “After the way I’ve treated you, I thought you would throw it in my face.”

  She didn’t know frak about him, otherwise, she’d know he would have walked long ago. Even if he wanted to, he couldn’t walk now. He was bonded to her. Whether he believed her or not, he’d do whatever it took to keep her near. Separation insanity didn’t sound appealing. “What do I have to do?”

  “Really? You’ll wed with me?”

  He nodded.

  Jelena squealed and launched herself at him, knocking him onto his back, and planted kisses all over his face.

  He laughed, catching her face with his hands, and guided her lips to his. She sighed into his mouth, relaxing against him, making him all too aware of the soft warm skin touching him from chest to shin. His body immediately responded, his erection pressing against her thigh. She moved her leg, stroking her silky flesh against him. His low groan of pleasure was immediately echoed by hers.

  She stilled and raised her head, her gaze questioning. “You’re not doing this to keep me from being embarrassed, are you? I don’t want you forced—”

  Drake placed his finger over her lips. No, not forced. Not at all. He wanted this. But would it last? Could it last?

  With barely a thought, his discarded shirt appeared in his other hand. He handed it to her. “Check the pocket.”

  “Nothing’s going to jump out and bite me, is it?” A teasing smile turned up the corners of her sweet mouth. She pulled open the pocket flap and tentatively reached into the pocket. She gasped, her eyes filling with shiny tears before she pulled the pendant out.

  “It’s not fancy like Cordan’s but—”

  “Oh, Drake, it’s beautiful.”

  “They’re more than lovers,” he whispered, staring at the entwined couple she cupped in her hand. “They’re bound mind, body and soul. Like us.” He met her gaze and watched the tears fall from her luminous amethyst eyes and trickle down her cheeks.

  With the chain tangled in her fingers, Jelena wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him. “When did you buy this?”

  “A few days ago.” He kissed her gently on the lips. “Do you want me to help you put it on?”

  She turned her back to him and lifted her hair. When he’d fastened the clasp behind her neck, she let her hair fall and faced him again.

  He lifted a long curl from her shoulder and rubbed it between his fingers. Definitely the softest thing he’d ever felt in his life. “Do I need to speak to your family?” He’d face a nest full of vipers if she wanted. Her family wasn’t as bad as that. Yet.

  She shook her head. “Master Kedar was a witness, so it isn’t necessary.” She lifted the pendant and stroked the tiny couple with her finger then let it fall between her breasts. It looked so good there. “We have nothing more to do until the feast.”

  “Well, then.” He eased her onto her back. “Where were we?”

  Jelena slid her fingers into his hair, making him gasp, and pulled his head down to her. “I believe we were right about here,” she whispered, and pressed her lips to his.

  A knock sounded at the door.

  He barely had time to jerk his head in that direction before it swung wide and Mayori strode in. “So, you are here.”

  Drake grabbed Jelena’s hands, absorbing the shock of magic she’d raised in their defense. He swore, jerking his stinging hands away, and growled, “Turn your back!”

  Mayori flinched, but immediately spun around.

  Clenching his jaw, he used his magic to dress Jelena and don a pair of pants then strode toward his mannerless second-in-command. He kept his tone low, but anger sharpened its edge. “When a person takes the time to knock on a door, they generally wait for admittance before coming in.”

  “I apologize. I didn’t expect you to actually be here. You said yourself you didn’t know when you’d be back.”

  “Then why did you come in?”

  “Because a crazy man insisted you were here even though we showed him the transporter and docking logs. He insisted I walk my little green butt back and make sure. I’m telling you, I’ll only take so much, even from a crown prince.”

  Jelena appeared at his side and Mayori glared at her. “How could you have gone off alone, with only her for backup.”

  “She’s doing just fine.”

  “Yeah, I can see she’s been taking really good care of you.” She gestured at the bed Jelena had straightened.

  “You should have let me zap her,” Jelena muttered.

  “That’s enough. What the hell is wrong with you?”

  “What’s wrong with me? Three days. Three drekking days of not knowing whether you’re alive or dead, and three more of not knowing where you were or if you were in trouble. We’ve been worried sick about you and here you are, right under our noses, getting it on with this stranger.”

  Drake didn’t know what shocked him more, that they’d worried about him or that Mayori was so mad she was nearly in tears. “I’m sorry. Things have been a little tense for me, too.”

  “That’s an understatement,” Jelena mumbled.

  Mayori’s anger deflated with the slumping of her small shoulders. Theledonians never made eye contact when they were emotional, so when she met his gaze dead on for the first time since she strode into the room, her eyes widened in shock, her mouth dropping open.

  “Your face,” she whispered, slowly reaching her fingers toward his cheek, then her eyes widened. “Your eyes! My God, what’s happened to you?”

  He didn’t want to go into it, but he owed her something for her loyalty all these years. “My parents are fosters. My birth mother was one of Jelena’s people.”

  “Thank Heaven.” She crossed herself. She always did when she mentioned her god. “Never did seem right, you coming from those creatures. So, you met her?”

  He saw his mother’s image in his mind and that invisible fist squeezed his heart. Threaden had a lot to answer for, and Drake intended to see that he did. “She’s dead.”

  “Your father?”

  “Alive.”

  “Thanks to you,” Jelena muttered.

  Drake shook his head. He didn’t want to get into this right now. Mayori took the hint. Thankfully, so did Jelena.

  “You have magic like she does?” Mayori asked.

  Drake nodded. “I’ve spent the last few days learning to use it.”

  “Real magic,” she whispered, staring at his eyes as if enthralled.

  “Keep it to yourself until I figure out how I’m going to handle this.”

  “How? All they have to do is look into your eyes.”

  “Do you see magic in my eyes?” Jelena asked.

  He did, but Mayori shook her head.

  “Drake is more powerful than I am. If he wants to, he can shield the magic in his eyes too.”

  Kedar taught him how, he just hadn’t thought to do it. It wasn’t necessary on Coriandros. It took less than a second to accomplish and didn’t require much energy.

  “That’s amazing. I still can’t believe—”

  Her wrist com beeped.

  “Yes?”

  “It’s him again, Mayori. He says he knows Drake’s here and wants clearance for three to transport over.”

  “No.”

  “Drake?” Jelena squeezed his arm.

  He shook his head. “I’m not ready to deal with them now.”

  Mayori stared at him, the question
clear in her eyes—Why? —but she didn’t ask. She always knew when not to ask. “Tell his highness that he is correct, Drake is here, but he’s not receiving visitors today.”

  “He wants to speak to him.”

  Drake shook his head.

  “Not today,” Mayori relayed.

  “Galen wants clearance to return.”

  “Not today,” Drake said.

  “Yes, sir.” The connection hissed with static and went silent.

  Jelena watched Drake retrieve his shirt from the bed and her heart ached for him. He had so much to deal with, so much resting on his broad shoulders, and now a surprise family adding to it. She didn’t blame him for putting them off today, or a few days, or more. A body could endure only so much pain.

  He finished with the fasteners on his shirt and tucked the tails into the waistband of his black leather pants. He’d forgone his training uniform for his regular clothes, and the shirt he wore, she realized, was the one she’d made for him; the one with the lining that matched his eyes. Something so minor shouldn’t touch her heart so, but it did.

  He moved to his dresser, and she was amazed to see his things, from the chest in her house, appear on the dresser’s shiny wood surface. She didn’t have the power to call things from that far away. His knife, his blaster, his credits, and the rest, he put each thing in its place then retrieved his utility cuff and fastened it on his free wrist.

  Mayori caught sight of the cuff she’d given him. “That’s beautiful. Where did you get it?” She reached to stroke the cabochon with the tip of her finger, but didn’t actually touch it.

  Jelena tensed, wondering what he would tell her.

  “Jelena gave it to me. It’s a betrothal gift.”

  “Betrothal?” Mayori whipped her gaze to Jelena.

  Her entire being warmed with pleasure. He could have said it was a protection charm, but hadn’t. Ali’ra, how she loved him.

  “What have you done?” Mayori reached for him but he tensed, making her freeze. “You bonded with her, didn’t you?”

  “If you have a problem with that, tell me now.” His low warning tone was barely above a whisper. “I’ll help you pack.”

  Tears filled Mayori’s eyes. She blinked them back but didn’t look away. “I won’t abandon you. When she breaks your heart, I’ll be here to help you pick up the pieces.”

  “I won’t break his heart.”

  The other woman crossed her arms in front of her and gave Jelena a stern glare, making her look like an evil pixie. “You better not.”

  In that moment, Jelena saw just how much Mayori cared for Drake. He wasn’t a boss, or a colleague, or whatever label could be put on their working relationship; she loved him. “I won’t.”

  Mayori stared at her for a long time then turned toward the door. “I’d better get to the lab. Someone trashed it, and I promised Danak I’d help him clean up.”

  Drake caught her arm. “It’s taken care of. Let’s go down to Communications. I want to see if there’s any word on Zanera’s plans.”

  Mayori nodded and led the way.

  Jelena slipped her hand into his and squeezed gently. He’d done it, she realized. He’d trashed the lab. He’d unleashed his rage on the helpless machinery, letting it burn itself out, until nothing remained but the pain—and that’s when she found him. It was probably the first time he hadn’t silently accepted what was done to him, the first time he’d allowed himself to feel. It had to be a step in the right direction.

  They strode down a short corridor and entered a small circular transporter room. Jelena glanced at Drake.

  “It’s a fairly large keep, so we have pads set up to take us from place to place quickly.”

  They stepped onto the pad, and Mayori touched a square on the control pad. Seconds later, they re-materialized in a corner of what must have once been the Great Hall.

  Banners of heraldry hung suspended from the vaulted ceiling. Colorful tapestries decorated the thick stone walls. But instead of long trestle tables draped in fine flaxon, that one could have expected to find, the room was filled nearly to capacity with computer terminals, vid screens, and equipment she couldn’t begin to imagine the function of.

  “I have a small communications center in a tower near my chambers, but this is the hub of our operation—the heart of the Guild.”

  Drake lead her into the throng, pointing out the function of this terminal or that, showing what each tech monitored, how they kept in touch with the many operatives under his control. Jelena followed, nodding her head, her gaze darting from one thing to another in complete awe.

  She wasn’t uneducated; she knew how things were built outside her magical city. What she saw in this place amazed her. Reinforced plasteel, providing the illusion of real wood, replaced worn out ceiling beams. Strong duracrete blocks replaced weak, crumbling stone. These modern materials would withstand another millennia, or more. The place may have been built more than a thousand years ago, but it was in no way medieval. Drake and his people had seen to that.

  He listened thoughtfully, patiently, to each tech who approached him with a problem or concern, then directed them in his quiet way, much as the original lord of the manor would, she imagined.

  She didn’t miss the nod of respect he received from each and every person he passed. Respect born of fear, or earned? She was sure she knew the way of it, yet those stupid little doubts and Danon’s long-standing hatred of the Guild intruded on her peace.

  How could she have thought him evil? An evil man didn’t garner this much respect. No, an evil man inspired fear within his organization as well as without. She saw no fear in their eyes.

  She had no doubt that he could be fearsome, or even brutal, but he wouldn’t be unjust. That wasn’t his way. Ali’ra preserve, she’d let Danon’s hatred blind her.

  Ages later, Drake led her up a few steps onto a raised dais that held yet more computer equipment. These, he told her, monitored those below, keeping tabs on the complex network, making it easy for him to determine when a particular piece of information was obtained. Like, in this instance, Zanera.

  Mayori nodded to the blue-skinned man seated in front of her and turned toward them. “There’s no word on Zanera’s plans yet, but they have a lead on Jerrek.”

  “Where?” One word. Immediate, low, but with an edge that chilled Jelena clear to her soul.

  “No, you can’t! It has to be another trap.”

  Mayori whirled on her. “He can’t just let him go. Not after everything he’s done.”

  “Drake’s not the kind to worry about his reputation.”

  “If he lets this go, people are going to think he’s lost his edge. Every zap-head in the quadrant is going to think it’s safe to take a shot at him. He won’t be able to turn his back without worrying if someone’s going to try to slide a blade between his ribs. That’s no kind of life.”

  “His magic would warn him of the danger.” She turned to him. “There’s no need to do this—”

  “My life is what it is, Jelena,” Drake said quietly. “You’re going to have to learn to live with it.”

  “I know but—”

  “No loose ends. I can’t afford them.”

  Would his first instinct always be to act as the Magician rather than the Executioner he was to become? “Things are different now.”

  Drake shook his head. “Not different, just more complicated.” He turned to Mayori. “Jerrek’s taken his last crack at me. Bring him in. I want to know what he knows.”

  “Consider it done.” Mayori turned toward the computers.

  “You don’t have to do this.” Jelena gripped his arm. “The Guardians, the Sentinels, they’re all searching for Zanera. They’ll find her.”

  “I’ll take what help they can give me, but I won’t turn my back on other possible sources. I will find—”

  A tone sounded in their minds.

  “What the hell was that?”

  “A summons,” she whispered. “We’ve been called t
o the council.”

  “Let’s not keep them waiting.”

  Despite her rising anxiety, Jelena thanked the council for taking them away from here, away from Jerrek and his traps.

  “We have to go,” he said to Mayori. She must have sensed that something had changed and had immediately returned to his side. “Bring Jerrek in, and the lizard too. We have unfinished business.”

  “Hovex? He’s dead. When he realized that he led you into an ambush, he was so terrified he keeled over.”

  Drake nodded and relief flooded through her. She shouldn’t be so callous, the creature had died. But that meant Drake wouldn’t have to exact his vengeance, and she wouldn’t be forced to endure those horrid pheromones again. Just the memory made her shudder.

  “Ready?”

  She wasn’t, but she nodded anyway. Ali’ra, she’d forgotten the Moon of Acima. If the council had its way, this could be one of Drake’s final hours.

  “Don’t worry, everything will be fine.”

  As he pulled her into an alcove, out of sight, his confidence seeped into her. He grasped her hands and in moments they were home.

  JELENA ONCE again stood before the council, but instead of Enola, who sat in her place on the raised dais, beside her stood the man she loved. As he faced the people who feared him enough to want him dead, he exuded a calm, silent strength that affected her.

  He had faith in his ability to control his magic, and so did she. No one could do the things she’d seen him do and not have control.

  They couldn’t order his death without an edict from the gods and after getting to know the man behind the reputation, she refused to believe that would happen. The gods had plans for this man, or they never would have sent her to protect him.

  The thought strengthened her spine and drove away her remaining fears. Her gaze lit on Enola, and the woman nodded ever so slightly.

  Jelena bowed. “Honored council, we have come as you requested.”

  “The Moon of Acima is upon us. It is time to ask the Oracle for a judgment,” her grandfather announced, his voice thundering in the high-domed chamber.

  “There will be no judgment.”