by Anise Rae
She stomped down the forest’s trail, berating herself as she went. What if he’d seen her open the keep-out spell? It was her job to protect her people, but she had no weapons other than hiding them.
“He gone?”
Aurora jumped at the unexpected but sweet voice.
Lily stuck her head around a tall maple, her dark curls hanging across her face. She pushed them away with her small hand, but they fell again. Another pink barrette likely littered the trail between here and the little girl’s home in the forest. Aurora scanned closely for the adorable imp’s current keeper. Tera dropped her spell. The young shielder mage was always practicing.
“He gonna come live with us?” Lily never left the forest…or at least she wasn’t supposed to. She was constantly seeking more people to add to their little band of misfits. Despite her big brown eyes and her long mop of shiny locks, this was easy to say no to.
Tera rolled her eyes. “No, Lil. Don’t be stup—silly.” The teen changed her word just in time at Aurora’s lifted eyebrow. “Goddess, Ror, who was that guy? I was too nervous to move.” The girl’s worry poured out in her volume.
“I’m glad you didn’t. He might have noticed.”
“Ha. Not likely. He was too busy kissing you.” Her naturally violet eyes twinkled beneath matching violet bangs, colored by a spell. Speculation sparkled across her face.
The girls had witnessed that kiss? Aurora’s cheeks tingled with heat, much as her lips still were.
“Is he your prince? Is he going to save us all?” Tera sighed with a wishful, dreamy smile.
Edmund would deny he was any kind of prince. But Aurora knew better. He had charm and suave on the outside and the backbone of a king within. Though he’d been drowning in his own problems when they first met not quite a year ago, his every action toward her had been thoughtful, kind…and passionate—a passion she’d shared to her very core.
At the memory, a tiny spark of hope glittered inside her, too stubborn for its own good, too stubborn to be defeated at the strong, powerful hands of the truth. Aurora knew exactly what would happen if the heir to Rallis discovered Tera’s metal ear and the skull plate hidden beneath her hair or Lily’s metal legs.
“That man would annihilate the entire forest in a blink. All of you.” Her tone sharp, she popped Tera’s dreamy, royal bubble without remorse. “You wouldn’t have time for regrets. That’s the only positive to him discovering us.” She had to look away, shutting off visions of that horrific fate. “He’d save me for last to halt his destruction and then he’d turn me over to the enforcers. Or worse, the army mages.” She swallowed hard. “He’s not our prince.” The heavy press of impossibility weighted down her heart.
Tera wrinkled her nose. “Halt his destruction? What is he?”
“Yeah, really.” Gwynevere Noble spoke from behind her. Aurora turned to see the forest’s entrance enclosing her best friend in its safe embrace. Gwyn’s fluffy blond hair bounced with a sensual grace around her chin as she strutted over. “What type of mage is he?”
Aurora frowned. It was like asking what a woman’s bra size was, or how big a man’s...no, she wasn’t going there.
Gwyn stepped past her to line up with Tera and Lily, making it three against one. “Oh, come on, Ror. Are you gonna keep secrets about the enemy?”
A rare burst of anger flamed to life beneath Aurora’s skin. “I’m keeping secrets? What about you?”
Gwyn brushed the questions aside. “The Rallises are the worst of all the families.” Naturally, she’d recognized Edmund. She stayed abreast of all the gossip about the Republic’s first families, including her own. Like the Rallises, the Nobles were a founding family, tracing their ancestors back to the Mayflower that had brought the first mages to the New World. Gwyn had run away from all that power and prestige. “That family is a bunch of greedy, vibe-hungry witches who always make sure they come out on top.”
Tera snickered at Gwyn’s description of the Rallises as witches and cupped her hands over little Lily’s ears, but the damage was done.
“What’s a witch?” Lily piped up.
“A bad word.” Tera put a finger to her lips. “Don’t say it or the Rallises will knock you flat.”
“With a kiss?” Sometimes Lily’s power of observation was inconvenient. This news would saturate the junkyard before the little girl’s bedtime.
Aurora’s cheeks burned anew.
“A kiss?” Gwyn asked in a stunned whisper.
Yes, a kiss. One she’d been waiting for and she hadn’t even realized it. A new memory she’d keep to herself, tucked in her heart. Aurora ignored Gwyn and tousled Lily’s hair. “All right, you. Get home to your supper. I can smell it from here.”
Lily stood her ground, as naturally as if her legs were flesh. “Daddy used to kiss me.”
Once again, Aurora found herself wishing she could soothe away the little girl’s grief. Her heart lurched at the unfairness of it all. There were days when she still couldn’t fathom it, even though she’d witnessed Lily’s tragedy herself. She crouched down, careful to listen in these moments.
“Two kisses. One here.” Lily pinched Aurora’s right cheek. “One here.” She pinched the left.
Except for her grandmother, Lily had lost her entire family in one of the bombings that had plagued the Republic. A terrorist group had almost toppled the entire government. They would have claimed Lily, too, if it hadn’t been for the fast thinking of her healer mage grandmother and Aurora’s talent. It was an act that had landed Aurora on the same side of the law as the terrorists…a wrong so wicked it stole her breath. But she grabbed it back. She needed to be strong for Lily.
“He was a very special daddy,” she offered.
“Will you make me a flower crown?” Lily’s young logic skipped to a new subject.
The trees rattled in the wind, as if they, too, wanted to see some flowers beneath their bony canopies, a reminder of spring and sunshine that the constant heavy gray clouds of winter seemed determined to make them forget.
“After supper.” Aurora straightened from her crouch. “You go on. I have to talk to Gwyn for a minute.”
For once, Lily cooperated, but Gwyn cut in front of the little girl, stopping her progress. A vibe violet had blossomed in the middle of the trail, likely a leftover from Edmund’s destruere spell. The weedy flowers bloomed in reaction to power on the dark end of the spectrum, embarrassing families across the Republic when the flowers popped up in the yard. In this part of the city, the flowers were a common, if shameful, sight since the Drainpipe was mostly populated with the dark.
Gwyn scuffed the ground with a violent kick. Ripped from its roots, the delicate plant toppled. Though its strong stem was severed, its silky purple petals remained in a proud blossom. The heel of Gwyn’s boot ended its brief reign. Aurora couldn’t stop her pained gasp.
Her friend rolled her eyes, her face hard. “Not everything deserves to live.”
Lily stepped forward and grabbed the smashed blossom.
“No. Leave it.” Gwyn’s correction didn’t stop her. Instead, the little girl held out the wilted flower like a gift to Aurora.
She bent down to take it. “Thank you. I love vibe violets. They have the softest petals.”
Gwyn huffed. “I know you mean well, but you’re teaching her all wrong. She’s going to go out into the big, bad world and think everything is all lovey dovey, but it’s not. Teach her now, or let her be crushed later.” The pain from a world that had done just that leant her eyes a dull sheen. Her power was nothing but a trifling, an embarrassment to her powerful family, and they’d nearly destroyed her spirit because of it.
Gwyn turned her gaze to Lily, still determined, but she pulled a short metal stick from her pocket, the size of a toothpick. The little girl’s eyes lit up at the sight of the cheap charm. She loved the fireworks spells almost as much as Gwyn did.
With a push of the little power she had, Gwyn ignited the spell. Ye
llow sparks fired to life two feet above the stick and formed a fiery daisy in the air. “Here, kid.” She held out the stick. “You hold it. Go show your Grammy before it runs out.” She ignored Aurora’s meaningful frown as Lily took the stick that guided the spell and scampered off. Tera raced after her. Aurora didn’t envy Tera’s assignment as the little girl’s caretaker, a tough task with Lily’s tendency to sneak off.
“Merida is not going to be happy about that,” Aurora said as the pair disappeared into the forest. Lily’s grandmother was not a fan of sparkler charms.
“Merida is a healer. If the kid gets hurt, she can presto her back to health. You’re the one I’m worried about. You haven’t smiled in a week. You’re puffing out glitter until we’re practically living in your fog. It’s all because of some stupid, sick woman who doesn’t even want our help. This is going too far. You need to stop.”
But she couldn’t stop, not when she could help the unfortunate woman. Life deserved to flourish and thrive. Her enchantress power demanded no less from her, pushing her to assist. However, her current glitter cloud, forming even now, had nothing to do with Mrs. Wasten.
Aurora planted her feet and glared at her friend. “I think going too far could be defined as lying to your best friend.”
“What are you talking about?” Gwyn shook her head, her white blond curls bobbing.
“You told me you threw my father’s enchanted eye into the river. You didn’t. The Rallises had it all this time. Edmund destroyed it just now. Why did you tell me you took it?”
“Why? Why?” Gwyn thrust her hands out and shook them to the fierce rhythm of her words. “Five months ago you were so stressed out you were gushing your little enchantress glitter everywhere.”
“With good reason!” Aurora countered. First the terrorists’ bomb had exploded and she’d been saved from death or injury only by the grace of the goddess. Afterward, she’d saved Lily, then hours later learned of her own father’s death, his enhanced metal eye, gone.
“Yes, with good reason. But you were about to give up the vibes! So I lied to get you to calm down. I told you I had it. I knew no one would come after you because no one knew an enchantress was living in Rallis. Or so I thought.” Her eyes widened in betrayal with those last words. “Apparently, you have your own secrets. Kissing the heir? You’ve screwed him, haven’t you?”
Aurora swallowed back the guilt. Her history with Edmund endangered them all, though it had happened months before the bomb, months before she’d broken the law. Nevertheless, the memories of that weekend with him had nourished her heart when was it cracking and crumbling beneath the strain of her secrets.
“I had no idea he even knew who you were.” Gwyn stuck out her hip, shifting her weight. “You suck as a criminal, Ror.” She softened her voice. “I support what you’ve done. I love you. You know that. I’m just trying to keep you together for as long as possible to postpone our impending deaths.”
Aurora strove for calm, but her insides were too clammy to hold on. “The gang keeps us safe.” She spouted her usual defenses with a brittle tone. “The enchantment—”
“Yes, the gang’s reputation helps. But they suck as guards.”
“They do not.”
“Your lover boy got through, didn’t he? And, yes, your keep-out spell is beautiful and strong. The fact that you can form that enchantment while living among the trash towers is a testament to your powers that I can only dream about.”
The longing in Gwyn’s voice brought Aurora’s shoulders into a slump. It was hard to have so much power when her friend had so little, like being the richest person in the world and befriending someone who’d taken a vow of poverty she resented.
Gwyn dug her foot into the exposed roots of the plucked vibe violet releasing its midnight scent through the air. “The enchantment is strong, but it’s just a spell. It can come down with a slice. You’ve read the stories. The prince battles through the vines to get to the princess’s tower. And he always wins. He’s the good guy. We’re the ones in the wrong here and if anyone tells....” She narrowed her eyes. “Or if we let the wrong people in....”
Aurora shook her head as Gwyn circled the conversation back to poor, sick Mrs. Wasten. “I don’t think it’s going to happen.”
“Whether or not it happens, it might be too late.” Gwyn’s voice bounced through the trees. “The Wastens are a fourth family. You’ve exposed us to a fourth family.”
This time the guilt was too much to swallow. Her glitter flashed between them like a danger signal. Little good it did now.
Compared to Aurora’s ancestors, the descendants of the fourth ship to arrive in the New World were far above her rank, though they were nothing compared to first or even second landers. Justin Wasten had been one customer among many in her repair shop until she’d heard his sad story about his wife. She hadn’t known his status then. She’d assumed he was just another down-on-his-vibes mage too poor to make it anywhere but the Drainpipe.
“He’s vowed to secrecy. And his wife, too.” It was the only reassurance Aurora had to offer. “Though Mrs. Wasten seems to prefer dying to living with an enchanted heart.”
“It was stupid to make the offer. You can’t fix everyone. Please quit trying. Focus on protecting the people you’ve already fixed. If we get caught....” Her eyes widened with fear.
Aurora had to look away. She’d dragged her friend into this. If they got caught, Gwyn would die a traitor’s death for not turning in Aurora and the others.
“Goddess, Ror, we live in a world where the High Councilor steals babies and little kids for their powers. She casts death chamber spells on anyone she wants dead. The council is ruthless. Callous. If they find out, they aren’t going to care how cute Lily is, and they sure as blasted hells aren’t going to care about a sarcastic teen with purple hair.” She put her hands on Aurora’s shoulders. “Please quit. I need you to stay safe. Don’t get yourself killed.”
“You mean don’t get us all killed.”
Chapter 2
Edmund glared at the thin line of dangerous, chaotic energy. It hovered at the outside corner of Aurora’s repair shop. As he panted for breath after sprinting from her side, an icy anger spread inside him. It devoured the warmth that kissing her had kindled. While he’d been distracted with her lips, the softness of her cheek, and those curves beneath her ratty coat, an enemy had struck at the heart of the territory. The culprit had ripped a six-inch fissure in the Rallis energy bond.
He lifted his hand as if he might tear out the damage or better yet, cast a repair spell. If only such a spell were within his power…. Hell, he didn’t know anyone who could fix a bond. For that matter, he’d never heard of a bond that needed repair. Only a truly evil mage would dare attempt to harm one in the first place.
The bond was vital to the health of the territory. It saturated the land and air, allowing the senator and his heirs to keep the land’s energy, as well as the energy of the mages who lived here, safe and orderly. Without the bond, the territory’s energy would vibrate uncontrollably. Like it did here.
He scanned the site with his mage sense…a sixth sense that allowed him to see and manipulate some frequencies of the universe’s energy, but the area was already sterile—no residual vibes, no clues, no enemy. And sure as hell no junkyard gang member in sight. Where the fuck were they?
He clenched his jaw and casted a steer-clear spell over the spot, not that anyone was likely to walk through this far edge of the junkyard. But he wouldn’t risk it. Though he couldn’t fix the damage, he could prevent anyone from getting hurt because of it. He pivoted on his heel among the dead weeds at the building’s corner and strode off toward his car. He had to inform the senator.
There would be no words to soften the blow. Though he could use a calling charm and pass the news on immediately, this was one message he needed to deliver in person.
It was a long drive home, but the car broke records just as it was designed to do, his
foot heavy against the accelerator. With every mile, his icy anger crept deeper into his gut, brushing his soul with its frosty touch. Not just anger…fear. He tightened his grip on the steering wheel, knuckles white, refusing to give in to the shiver.
He pulled into the gates of Rallis Hall, parked the car, and dashed up the front steps. Jasper opened the door with a perfectly timed spell. He always did. His butler talents shined brighter than the family’s silver.
Edmund managed a civil nod of thanks and spun toward his grandfather’s office. His heart thumped hard with every step.
“Sir, the senator is with the governor of the seven counties and the director of P.U.R.E. I expect he’ll be awhile.”
He halted at Jasper’s reminder. Barging in with this news was unthinkable. “Squeeze me into his calendar as soon as this meeting ends, no matter what he has next.” He threw the words over his shoulder as he sprinted up the main stairs to the east hall, then to the north, and up to the fourth level.
His family home sprawled wide and high, though this particular hallway, which led to the attic stairs, was unnaturally cramped and dark. The day he’d come into his true power, he’d placed charms in the hallway’s four corners to make it smaller. Childish, but it discouraged visitors. Today he needed the peace of his refuge. He needed to plan. To find the right words to tell them what had happened. To be in the heart of his family while he still could. Because he knew what was coming.
His heart might have frozen solid at that thought, but a flicker of warmth remained…because of her.
He climbed the last set of stairs and stepped inside the north tower’s attic. The bleak space matched the feeling in his gut. Pacing to one of the east windows, he tossed a Mageman comic book he’d left on the sill into its box on the floor. He stared down at the sprawling front lawn.
