by Dannika Dark
He narrowed his eyes. “You think I would bed that strumpet? For your information, I posed nude.”
“For which magazine?” I bent over, unable to contain my laughter.
“Laugh it up, missy. There’s a high-ranking official of the Mageri who apparently has a passion for sculpture and nude men.”
“Can I see it?”
Simon smirked and reached for his zipper.
“Never mind,” I muttered.
“Thanks to the guards, Nero can’t touch this place with his pinky toe.” Simon sniffed and crossed the room, staring at a pretentious painting encased in a gold frame. “I would have liked to kill the sod myself. You do know that?”
“Putting Adam in the challenge may have been the only legal way to kill Samil, but I don’t know if I’ll ever be right with it, even if Adam is. Let’s not dig up bones in this cemetery.”
Simon whirled around. “I do love a good bone.” I glared at his T-shirt that said: Chess players do it all Knight.
“You are the most inappropriate man I know.”
“Moi?” he asked, folding his arms and glaring judgmentally at me, foot tapping on the floor.
“What’s that look for?”
His eyebrow rose. “You are the biggest troublemaker I know.”
“So I flirt with disaster once or twice. Who doesn’t?”
He snorted. “You don’t just flirt with disaster, you have intercourse with it.”
I was three seconds away from having a verbal confrontation when a wicked smile slanted his dimple and he sauntered across the room.
Simon pulled at the banister and headed upstairs. “There are two lessons I’ve learned in life: never play chess against a Sensor, and never lose your sense of humor.”
Halfway up he stopped and leaned over the railing. “Oh, and never shag a woman with a tattoo.”
Now that surprised me. “Why?”
“They’re freaks. The lot of them.”
“I thought you liked getting your freak on,” I said with a laugh.
He rolled his eyes and jogged upstairs, voice trailing off. “Remind me to tell you about the time I was tied and taped to a washing machine by a woman who had the grim reaper on her back.”
I searched every drawer, opened every book, and reviewed each stack of Samil’s papers, but found nothing. An hour later, I called out for Simon. Silence replied. He wasn’t answering his phone, either. On the third attempt, he casually strolled down the stairs with a smug grin on his face.
“Why don’t you ever answer my calls?”
He tapped his front pocket. “I love the way you vibrate.”
Simon mentioned that years ago he designed secret rooms as a side job, earning him enough money to freelance. While he was busy in the study looking for a magical door, I turned my attention to the basement.
The light flipped on and tiny particles of dust floated in the air as if disturbed by my presence. The stairs creaked as I made the daunting journey down memory lane. It still smelled of mold and the sole of my shoe scraped over the dark stains of degradation on the floor. I slunk down with my arms draped over my knees in the spot that was once my bed. Simon’s heavy shoes clomped down the stairs and he paused halfway, soaking in the room with his eyes.
“This was where he kept me.”
“Silver, come out of here.”
Simon crossed the room and stuffed his hands in the pockets of his trousers. Tousled brown hair fell forward when he looked down at me with compassionate eyes.
“I wish I’d never asked you what went on down here.” His voice trailed off to a whisper as he stared at the open bathroom. “At least you weren’t chained.”
“Chained?”
He snapped out of his haze and smashed an invisible cigarette butt with his shoe.
“Simon, what happened to you with your Creator?”
He rubbed the tattoo on the back of his neck and shook his head. “Not now, Silver. Not now.”
“How long will it take me to learn how to control my light?”
He quickly responded to the change in topic. “Not sure I know what you mean.”
I dropped my eyes and picked at my thumbnail. “You know, so I can be with someone who’s not a Mage.”
He squatted in front of me. “What gave you the idea that you could? You can’t be with anyone other than a Mage in the same way.”
“Justus told me when we first met that if I learned to control my power then I could be with a human,” I argued.
“So now there’s a human who’s caught your fancy?” he said, lip twitching.
I slapped his arm. “You know what I mean.”
Simon gave an impassive smile. “You can’t touch them. A mortal will die and most Breed… well, that’s a bit of a mood killer if you juice them up with your light. For Justus it comes easy. He shuts away his emotions; he’s had years of practice. You can acquire enough control to level down your energy, but it would be a passionless experience,” he cautioned. “The only ones immune to our touch are Vamps, and if you go trolloping around for one of them then I won’t blink twice about putting a chastity belt on you.”
“I think it’s a little too late for that; one has to be chaste.”
He turned his skull ring in circles. “Sexual energy can only be properly shared during binding with another Mage.” He scratched his head as the memory of our encounter surfaced. “Intimacy is perfectly normal between us because our bodies process that kind of energy much differently. You can touch a Mage anywhere and the sexual energy won’t release unless you join hands.” He rolled the piercing in his tongue around a little. “If you want to be with someone who’s not a Mage, then you’re going have to give up touch, or else you’ll do some serious damage.”
With a hard sigh, I said, “Yeah, found that out.”
Simon blinked in surprise. “Are you telling me you shagged Logan?”
“No!”
“I would be gobsmacked if you told me that you polished his knob.”
“Get away from me.” I laughed, shoving him. “We just kissed.”
Everyone knew the custom for Chitahs during courtship was a PG experience. Most went to the next level after the woman accepted his claim on her. That level was more than just dating—it was a permanent commitment. Of course, we were breaking the mold because I was not a Chitah and felt it was too premature to take him as a husband.
“What Breed of women do you date?”
“I have a few regulars,” he said, licking his lips. “Mage, of course. But it doesn’t mean I don’t have an appreciation for the lovelies. I’m an equal opportunity shagger and have never turned down a willing Sensor, Relic, or the like.”
“So all this time I’ve been led to believe a lie? I’m never going to be able to touch another man who isn’t a Mage.”
“You can always have that with me.” Simon raised his hands defensively when I gave him a harsh glare. “I’m just putting it out there.”
“I won’t forget how quickly you flew out of that bed after our drunken kiss.”
His neck jerked back. “You’re cross with me over that? This whole time?”
I was tempted to give him the finger, but instead I picked at a cuticle.
“Justus coming home was the cold shower I needed. It went too far, and I can’t do that to a friend. It wasn’t a rejection. You’re lovely, but you don’t deserve to be stuck with a cad like me.”
“You got that right,” I teased.
Simon stood up and showed me his back and I realized he took the comment more seriously than I meant.
“I didn’t mean it like that, Simon. Don’t be mad; I say stupid things sometimes—it’s a sickness.” I brushed the dust from my pants and stood behind him.
“Sorry to be the bearer of bad news,” he said with a lengthy sigh, “but it’s something you need to know. For short-term relationships it’s no biggie, most aren’t a stranger to interbreeding, but if it gets serious, you need to consider how much it means to you. Even w
ith gloves, I’m afraid it’s not possible.”
I hugged his arm and silently wondered how Justus managed to bottle his passion. I could barely contain mine around Logan.
Simon peered down at me with an angelic face. “Still want to give it a go?”
He was incorrigible. “I could never be with a man who smokes a pipe and wears a pub cap while playing Clue, just for the effect.” All smiles, I leaned in and gave him a light peck on the cheek.
“Call that a kiss? I’m a fan of the French Revolution.”
I shoved him toward the steps when a dirty box beneath the staircase caught my eye. “Has anyone looked through that,” I asked.
“We’re out of time and I don’t feel like posing for another bloody masterpiece of clay. Bring it along and I’ll return it later. Of all his progeny, not one of them was willing to claim Samil’s inheritance. All of this will go to the Mageri, or the fanciest junkyard in Cognito.”
***
I stood in the doorway of Justus’s hidden study. “You guys have been in here all day with that box. Do you want to tell me what’s in it?”
Justus sat behind an old heavy desk, rubbing his tired face in his large hands. The skin on his brow pushed around like putty. He released a heavy sigh, dropped his arms, and leaned back until the chair creaked. “It’s HALO business.”
“Simon isn’t part of HALO.”
The sound of overpriced wine washed down his throat as he emptied his glass and set it on the desk. His private study looked more like a temple of artifacts from his past. The only thing missing was the picture he kept of me on his desk, which he probably hid in a drawer to avoid any remarks from Simon.
“Simon has examined the contents,” Justus pointed out.
“I found the box, so I think that’s a crock of shit.”
Simon howled with laughter from his chair and quickly cleared his throat, containing a snort. I had a right to know what was in that box and Justus knew it.
“Swearing does not become a lady.” Justus suddenly snapped a finger at Simon without looking in his direction. “One word and I will tether you to the grill of my car.” Simon made a gesture of zipping his lips and Justus turned his attention back to me, stretching out his tattooed arm. “No arguments. You need to get ready for the party.”
Ah yes, the party. We had received invitations from Novis for a formal gathering at his home. Justus saw it as an opportunity to make connections and strengthen alliances. I had no desire to go, but Justus hadn’t left me home alone since the night that Logan walked into my life.
I was pissed off already, but now I really didn’t want to go. I understood the need to protect a Learner until they acquired enough skills to become independent, but that didn’t make it any easier to endure being dragged to an event like a child.
“I am ready.”
He looked over my attire. “Learner, you lack maturity.”
“Maybe so, but my fashion sense is a force to be reckoned with.”
“Unlike your common sense,” he muttered. His eyes scraped me from head to toe as I stood in sweatpants and a black shirt that read “Fucking Classy” in cursive. It was an impulse buy when I was shopping for Sunny’s housewarming gift and began as a joke. Justus rarely cursed and only purchased high-end clothing, so it was the most inappropriate shirt I could possibly wear whenever I was mad at him. Which wasn’t often, but we had our moments. Because this was a cocktail party, I was certain that Justus would buckle and leave me home to avoid the embarrassment.
Unfortunately, he called my bluff.
The Aston Martin had received a detailed polish—as did Justus. When our car pulled up to the mansion, my jaw slackened.
Adam was living it up Jefferson style. I’d always met with him in public and never got to see where he lived. Aside from that, Justus didn’t want me hanging out at a Council member’s house.
Rumor had it that Adam was seeing someone and I was dying to meet her. There was no question that he was a catch with his debonair looks and warm heart. Adam was one of those handsome men who didn’t know it, and that is an attractive quality to most women. But it was the compassion and loyalty to others that made him stand apart.
The valet parked the car, and I grinned from ear to ear as two men in expensive suits escorted me to the door. A Charmer could walk into a party wearing a garbage bag and still have every woman clawing after him. Justus didn’t have to make the effort, but he did. That’s just the kind of man that he was. He slipped on his most expensive watch, cufflinks, and a silk tie that made you want to grab it and pull him close. His potent aftershave was guaranteed to make lips glisten.
Between Justus and Simon, I looked like a basket case. My hair was pulled into a ponytail and the sound of my flip-flops clapping made Justus sigh more than once. Novis was waiting in the doorway to greet us.
“Think he’ll adopt me?” I whispered to Simon, who ditched the usual bad-boy attire for a casual grey suit. His caramel eyes were a golden ticket into any woman’s bedroom as long as he didn’t open his mouth.
Novis was a striking man, although only by physical standards was he young as he was one of the ancients. His razor-cut hair was dark, complementing his piercing light blue eyes and thin-lipped smile that always had a secretive way about it. Novis appeared to be in his early twenties when he was made. In addition to being a member of the Council, he stepped up to do Good-Samaritan work, taking in those in need of refuge. He offered Adam the choice to become a Mage when the alternative was death. I admired him as a Creator.
He bowed to Justus. “Welcome, friends. Indulge in the cocktails and drinks. Please mingle and let me know if you need anything.”
Justus walked by him and mumbled, “Apologies.”
Novis looked me over and widened his grin. I almost returned the smile until I stumbled over the edge of a rug, knocking into a woman whose drink splashed onto the floor.
“Sorry about that; I hear there’s more in the back.” I thumbed in that direction and Justus bulldozed me with his eyes.
“Learner, I suggest you go to the kitchen and stay there for the remainder of the evening. There are important people here tonight; do not embarrass me.” When he turned his back, it was evident he didn’t want anyone to know that I was his Learner. Sure. No problemo.
“See ya, Simon. I’m going to kick this party up a notch.” Something in another room captured his attention and he strolled off with a wave of his hand.
The champagne was delicious and full of tiny giggles. That’s what I used to call the bubbles when I was a child because of how giddy it made everyone. My eyes wandered over an array of magnificent paintings that were likely originals.
I let out a burp and a head turned in my direction. It was fashioned with expensive hairpins decorated with tiny jewels. When I saw the wolfish brows and burgundy lips, I immediately recognized Hannah. She was one of the Council members and was disgusted by my shirt. I smiled politely and whirled around to escape when I caught sight of a familiar face.
Adam leaned against a doorframe, looking about as Cary Grant as any man dared to with dark brown waves of hair and a smooth shave. Standing beside him was a man wearing a trench coat. His Vampire eyes were as black as a panther on a moonless night and his features were strict.
“If this is a pissing contest, I want in.” Adam chuckled.
“My, don’t we look like a fancy pants tonight?” I smiled at him with my eyes. He wore a white shirt buttoned almost all the way up, tucked in a pair of black slacks. “You never told me that you live in a palace,” I said, making a sweeping arm gesture and splashing my drink. Alcohol consumption was seldom and champagne went right to my head.
“I wasn’t aware this was a charity function or I would have brought my checkbook,” the Vampire remarked in a flat voice.
I cut my eyes at the stranger who tilted his head in manner that implied he thought himself better than me.
“I’m Silver. Did someone forget to take your coat, or are you going to be
putting on the magic act later?” I exaggerated my smile as he folded his arms.
“Silver, this is Christian.” Adam dropped his eyes to my shirt and took a sip of his drink.
I slapped my hand on Adam’s shoulder. “Tell me there’s a karaoke machine in here because I’m ready to take my shower performance to a whole new level.”
Adam didn’t just laugh, he spit his drink back in the glass and set it down on a table. “You’re always stirring it up, aren’t you?”
“That is my modus operandi.”
“Save it for later. It’s too early to bring this party to a halt.”
Across the room, Justus cozied up to a woman in a revealing blue dress. Her hand slipped into his pocket and she leaned in close and spoke against his cheek. I didn’t see any distinct features on her so I couldn’t tell what Breed she was. His amorous grin irritated me.
That was the man I met in Memphis—the one who had every woman in the bar at his disposal. He never brought women home, but there were nights that Justus came in late wearing a wrinkled shirt with smears of lipstick on the collar.
Christian looked at Adam. “The babes are always the spoiled ones, aren’t they?” he said in a slow Irish accent.
“Adam is younger than me,” I pointed out, exploiting the flaw in his comment. Human years didn’t count and I had been a Mage for months longer.
“Looks like Simon found some competition,” Adam remarked, pointing in the adjacent room.
A chessboard divided the space between Simon and a young woman. Her body was delicate and thin and covered up in a long-sleeved, pale green dress. She also wasn’t sporting the generous cup size that Simon was known to revere. Her ginger hair was braided against her head, wrapped up tight with pins. Simon rubbed his chin with his aviators still on—something Justus would have also worn had he not thought it would insult the Council. When Vampires were present, people shielded their eyes from their power. Simon lifted his black knight.
“Poor bastard,” Christian remarked.
Adam folded his arms. “How so?”
The woman lifted her rook and took his piece off the board. Simon’s leg began jumping under the table—one of his nervous tics when the game wasn’t going his way.
