by Anise Rae
“No one would have dared.”
He would have.
Ahead was a long stretch of land and then a dozen more towers in a single line. “Why did he do this?” he asked. “We never understood why he would leave so much space open to build the next set.”
She bit her lip, one little tooth tugging at the lush pink and then tipped her head. “I’ll show you.”
He carefully concealed the small sense of victory those words kindled inside him. He’d bet a portion of his kingdom she was about to reveal one of her secrets.
They cleared the trash towers in silence. The field’s weeds whispered and popped beneath their boots. Far ahead, an old water tower stood covered in vines so thick it was hard to see the structure beneath despite winter stealing its leaves. She angled their path toward it. Her breath puffed in the cold, her cheeks pink, her hands tucked inside her coat sleeves.
“You need mittens.”
She frowned up at him. “Don’t waste a Clothe charm on that, please. It would be cheaper to hire a sorceress to spin the yarn and knit them herself.”
“All right. I won’t use another one.” He didn’t have one. “But only if you hold my hand. I’ll keep it warm.”
“I have two hands, you know.”
“I’m willing to hold both of them at the same time. We’ll promenade through the field.” He held out his hands, reaching for both of hers so their arms would crisscross in front of them. He earned a smile for that.
“You can hold one.” She slipped her right hand into his left. “Promenading would demolish your manly reputation.”
His heart thudded in delight at her teasing. “A sacrifice I’m willing to make. I’d hoped to give off tough vibes in front of the gang, but it’s not an issue. They’re not watching.” With his hand clasped around hers, he cast a warmth spell and encircled her entire body with it. He couldn’t stop his satisfied smile when she gave a soft sigh of pleasure.
“Maybe the gang is so good they’re undetectable.”
He stared down at the top of her golden hat but he didn’t respond, unwilling to shatter this moment with a disagreement.
They walked in quiet companionship, her body brushing his as they closed in on the water tower and its vines.
“Admit it.” He looked down at her. “You like holding my hand.”
“Admit it. You turn everything into battle for supremacy.”
He scoffed, affronted. “Not true. Not with you.”
“Yes, with me. Otherwise, why not say I like holding your hand, Aurora?”
“I like holding your hand, Aurora.” He lifted it to his lips. “I like walking to nowhere in the freezing cold through this dead field under this cloudy sky. With you. And if there weren’t another fissure around here, this would be my Elysian Fields simply because I get to hold your hand.”
She looked up at him. He held her gaze as they rounded the corner of the water tower. “Truth. All of it. Read my vibes.”
“I don’t want to read your vibes. You should only speak the truth.”
“Is that what you do, Miss Secrets?” His voice was tighter than he’d intended, but his gut burned. They were getting closer to the fissure. Pain scorched the edges of his soul, hotter with every step.
“I wouldn’t be so foolish as to lie to you, Lord Rallis.” She turned the next leg of the tower.
There it was. Another dozen steps and he yanked her to a halt.
“Oh, dear,” she said, looking down. Hidden in the weeds, a fresh newspaper sat on a concrete slab that spilled out beneath the water tower. She read the headline aloud. “Noble claims Rallis bond encroaching on their territory. Demands the bond be contained.”
He yanked her back with one hand as she reached down to pick it up. She hadn’t sensed it. “Not our most immediate problem, Ror. Look with your mage sense.”
She gasped and with her next breath, the fissure was gone. She’d fixed it quicker than a heartbeat. Goddess, she was powerful. “Oh, goodly stars. That was right in front of my house.”
Chapter 8
“The fissure wasn’t there this morning. If it had been...” She would have walked right through it as she left to get coffee. And what if she’d had a visitor? Her skin prickled with alarm. Lily had been known to escape her watchers and show up at her door. If she’d stepped into this chaos, she would have sickened instantly.
She put a hand to her lips, a gentle seal against the warning she wanted to shout out to everyone. But she couldn’t. Blasted hells. This was why she’d sworn off vows. They held her captive, tight cuffs imprisoning her freewill. She glanced up at Edmund. Gone was the happy, teasing façade that almost always masked his face. His nose flared, his lips thinned, his shoulders back…a determined king ready to ride into battle to defend his land.
She put a hand on his sleeve. “You’re plenty smart enough to figure a way around the vow. You can warn people this is going on. Someone is going to get hurt.”
He cocked his head at her along with a single eyebrow and studied her for a moment. “I wish I didn’t have to tell you this, but you should know I’m not that clever. In fact, I’m questioning my intelligence at the moment. What do you mean right in front of my house?” He faced the forest, his energy pouring out. “Seriously heavy spells back here, Ror. I noticed them the other day.”
“What are you doing?”
“Scanning. Where is your house? You’ve shielded it quite well. No wonder I didn’t know you’d returned.” The last was added softly, as if he were speaking to himself.
Goddess, if the others came out of the forest now his spell would detect them even if they were beyond his normal vision. He’d sense their vibes. She willed her friends away, wishing she could warn them, but to spell a message to Tera or Gwyn would only point a clear path of energy for Edmund to follow.
“It’s not shielded.” She tugged on his hand, her fingers shaking. “Quit scanning. I’ll gladly show you.” And wasn’t that a complete turn around? “It’s a simple enchantment with a bit of a hide me spell mixed in. Nothing more.”
“I’m a damn good scanner, but if I’m not sensing either your house or your spell, what else am I missing?”
“You don’t see a house because there isn’t one. I live here.” She pointed at the tower.
He looked up. The old water tower soared against the winter sky, a rusty splotch against the gray. His mouth dropped open.
“Not in the ball. On the first platform.” She reached for the spell. Its invisible curtain gravitated to her touch. The spell parted, along with the swaying vines that covered her water tower. As she stepped through, the jingle bell she’d strung to a vine sang out. She inadvertently rang her own doorbell every time she came home.
She held the viney curtain open for Edmund. He ducked under. A tall line of metal stairs waited ahead. She took them at a steady climb. He followed.
At the top, the platform opened into her living area. A deep, cozy couch and two chairs rested on a soft floral rug, cushioning the hard concrete floor. The space flowed seamlessly into the kitchen. To the left, a half dozen bamboo plants—lush and green from an enchantress’s touch—separated her bedroom area.
At the north side of the platform, the city skyline stood in the distance, proud and bold, and home of the light. To the east, and much closer, were the towers and the junkyard, equally bold, though an aloof shame took the place of pride.
“I used to play here as a kid,” she said. “My father reinforced everything back then and I inspected it all before I moved in. It’s not actually rusting. It just looks like it. “
Pulling off his hat, he jammed it into his pocket. “At least it’s warm. No wonder you hardly do any spells.” He gave her a small smile, though concerned still marred his eyes. “You’re producing your share of the trash vibes maintaining the heat spell and the illusion. I thought you said Pipers were big conservationists.”
She blushed, caught. “I try not to use it much fo
r everyday stuff, other than this.”
“I’m teasing you. You should feel proud of your power, enjoy it. I do.”
She sauntered to the railing that faced the trash towers. Though her platform was twenty feet up in the air, the towers loomed higher. She pointed. “That’s the row of towers that are set apart.”
The rough black walls were etched with scenes from the city, a collection of her favorite places as a child. The zoo with its polar bears, the Santa Maria, and the park and fountain that she’d skated around for hours.
Edmund placed a hand on the railing next to hers. “He was an artist.”
“He was. But instead of creating, his job was to clean up the mess from everyone else’s creations. He was brilliant. And for a long time he was a wonderful father. He made this just before I left for the university.”
She leaned her temple against his shoulder. It was an old story and the hurt had dulled. “He spoke to me...willingly…for the last time then. He told me never to come back, never to lay eyes on him again. For a while, I kept tabs on him through the gang. He was doing crazy things, taking stupid risks, trying to die. He was so afraid of going crazy that it made him crazy. He was afraid of his own power.” She pointed at the decorated towers. “I think those etchings were his way of exorcising me from his life, dumping them on the trash towers, as far away from him as he could get them.
“In the end, I didn’t know who he was. I don’t think I even liked him anymore.” A waterfall of remembrance rushed down, holding her in place with its mass. “When my vow was up, I came back here. He was still alive at the time. But I never saw him again.”
Beyond the boundaries of the invisible walls she’d enchanted around her water tower, the dead vines moved in the wind. They danced in her line of sight, marring her focus on her father’s creation.
“He loved you, Ror. He wanted to spare you the burden of watching him go insane.”
She shook her head against his shoulder, her hat scratching her forehead. “If he hadn’t believed it was going to happen, I don’t think it would have. I don’t know of any other metallist who lived as long, or as sane, as he did.”
“His power was not conducive to family life, princess.”
“His power didn’t need to drag him to his death. And having a family…me…saved him. I’m sure of it.” She spoke her truth calmly, knowing she was right. “He had someone to love, and I loved him in return.”
“Aurora, loving someone doesn’t fix them.” He lifted his hand to her cheek and she tilted her head into his touch. “He was lucky to have you. He had to know what a precious gift you are.” He slid his hand to her shoulder. “I certainly know.” The stern line of his mouth ought to have clued her in on what was coming. “You are too important to stay here alone and unguarded. It’s not safe.”
She needed to disabuse him of that idea immediately. “This is no more dangerous than any other place.”
“Fissure man knows where you live. He walked right up to your doorstep.”
She knew exactly what he was thinking. “It’s not Wasten.”
He shrugged. “If he is our culprit, then as overseer, he has access to anyplace in the Pipe, regardless of the junkyard gang. He can get back here anytime he wants. He admitted he knows where you live.”
Aurora squinted at him, her heart suddenly heavy. “Edmund, how can you live like this? Do you walk around all the time suspecting that everyone is your enemy?”
“It’s called survival, princess.”
“I’ve survived just fine, loving people instead of suspecting them of evil.”
“Good,” he said, leaning down to her. “Love me.”
Her breath caught at his order.
His lips brushed against hers in a gentle kiss. “Love me while I ensure that you survive, and that my territory does, too.” His breath puffed against her. “Do you think you could do that?”
He lifted his hand to cup her neck slipping under the mass of her curls. His mouth met hers again. A startling heat rushed through the connection. His lips pressed softly as they explored every inch, from one side to the other. It was a hundred tender kisses in one.
Their kiss when he’d destroyed the eye had been hard and demanding, but this was sweet seduction, a promise of what could be…of what they’d had last spring. Matched so perfectly she could never pull away and expect to be complete. And she hadn’t been. Until now.
The heat winding deep within her body stretched out, saturating her with an undeniable need for more.
He tipped his head to nibble at the corner of her mouth. “I need you safe.” His lips tickled at hers as he spoke. “You don’t have to move into Rallis Hall, though I’d choose that, but I’ll find you a real house with real guards.”
She straightened with a jerk. Her forehead thunked against his. “I’m not moving. This is my home. These are my people.”
He sighed and let his forehead rest against hers, just to the right of the bump that throbbed from their impact. He lifted a hand to the spot and gently caressed it as if he knew right where it hurt. “One of whom ripped a fissure through your doorstep.”
“We don’t know that.”
He softened his voice. “Someone tried to hurt you, Ror. Someone who may very well know that you don’t look at the world with your mage sense.” He spoke as if his thoughts were developing at the same time. “Who knows that?”
“It couldn’t have been a threat against me. More likely it’s about you. It’s no secret that we’re...” Together. They weren’t. Her past...her present...would fray any true bond between them. “It’s no secret that we’ve attended events together. No one I know would do this. I’m not moving. And no guards.”
He tilted his head, obviously gathering his next move, his next play.
She needed to beat him to it. “No. You either honor my decision or you depart.” Dear goddess, she’d never said such a thing in her life. She’d never cast a spell that was anywhere close to it.
He blinked, raised one eyebrow, and flattened his lips, though the edges tipped up in a smile. He might have been holding back a laugh. “You don’t know how.”
She raised her palm toward his chest. “I’m really good on the fly. I mean it, Edmund.” If she cast it successfully, he’d be forced out the door and unable to enter until she released it.
His face softened into genuine worry. “You’re my partner in this. We need to stick together.”
She kept her palm up.
“All right, princess, you win. You’re not moving. For now. But only if you promise me that every time you open that door...those vines...down there, you’ll use your mage sense to scan the entire area and the path you’re taking. No more walking around blind. That stops now. And if anything happens to you, expect to move to Rallis Hall. If you fight me on it, I’ll destroy your spells to resist before they form.”
Which he could do right now if she cast the depart spell. She’d played a mean card by threatening such a spell. This wasn’t like her at all. What was he doing to her?
He reached for her hand, entwining his fingers through. “Promise me. Use your mage sense to protect yourself.”
She nodded as he brought her hand to rest against his chest. “I promise I’ll try.” Though it would be a hard one to keep. Searching out danger wasn’t her style. If her people in the forest weren’t enough to change that attitude, nothing was.
He grunted as if he read part of her thoughts and then leaned down to press his lips against hers. “This is foolish.” He wasn’t talking about the kiss, she knew that, though it qualified as just that for her.
“Why am I letting you get away with this?” he asked. “I’m bespelled by an enchantress.”
Digging something from his pocket, he cupped her hand and dropped a charm in her palm.
“Add it to your calling charms. Call me the moment you need me. Or just want me. For anything.” He closed her fingers around it. With a bow, he brushed his lips
against her fist, a kiss so soft it was just this side of existence. Her heart fluttered, echoing its delicacy.
He turned and strode away, disappearing down her stairs to reappear below outside. His long steps conquered the frozen ground that in summer’s heat was a marshy softness.
“Be careful.” His whispered words, spelled to her ear, caressed her skin before they shattered to wisps.
* * * *
Leaving her there was wrong, though he didn’t plan to go far. She’d paralyzed his ruthlessness. It was her curves. From top to bottom they were a delicious handful of squeeze and they glittered the most delicious vibes he’d ever felt. It was her mischievous smile, too. And her all-encompassing kindness. He craved her.
He ought to grab the rope in his car, tie her up, toss her over his shoulder, and take her home to his refuge. He’d end up with a hissing, angry enchantress with vibes as ferocious as a declawed kitten, but she’d be safe.
He couldn’t leave her unprotected. Not now. Not ever. With a dark determination, he plotted with every stomp through the field. All three fissures had all been in the Drainpipe, two within the junkyard itself. Every instinct told him the culprit was here. He needed a legitimate reason to hang around.
He fingered the coins in his pocket, recognizing by touch the one he needed. Its price still curdled his gut. The mage who’d created it had warned him it would likely come with side effects. If he’d had to use the obey charm on Aurora to keep her out of trouble, those side effects wouldn’t have been a hardship. Not that he’d ever use it on her.
To use it on a man was another story. But he figured he could cancel any amorous actions from the recipient by ordering him to keep his hands to himself. After all, Bull would have to obey. He’d have to let Edmund into the junkyard gang.
As he strode even with the first trash tower, a man stepped out directly in front of his path.
“I hear you want to join the gang.” Bull stood with his arms at his sides, feet planted. The amateur magefighting champion had three inches on Edmund in height and at least six across the shoulders. The three lines tattooed on his left temple were a junkyard gang sign. The highest line was dotted, not solid, indicating his temporary status as leader. Edmund still didn’t understand that move.
