One Thousand Kisses

by One Thousand Kisses

  Yet she hadn’t mentioned any suspicions the Torvals might have used spirit magic on her. Misguided loyalty? Or had they erased her uncertainties? The Torvals were experienced and devious, and Anisette was no match for their wiles.

  Embor rephrased his question. “Are her stress levels high?”

  “Stress and hormone levels are within accepted parameters.”

  “This is excessive.” Anisette’s fingers twitched, and her skirts rustled. When he glanced down, he saw the tips of satin slippers.

  Last night she’d been barefoot—her feet as blue as the rest of her. He saw no dye now and wondered how she’d removed it. Wondered if she’d missed any spots and where they were.

  When he raised his gaze to her face, checking her neck and lips for stains, she was regarding him curiously. He stared at the timepiece on the wall instead of her mouth.

  “We’ve been here half an hour,” he said. “That’s not excessive.”

  “It was a last-minute appointment.” She swung her feet gently. “Healer Gangee is busy.”

  “No trouble. I had a cancellation.” The smaller man scribbled a notation on a clipboard, angling it away from Anisette. In a shorthand code known only to Embor, Skythia and their staff, he indicated that he wished to speak privately.

  Embor’s fingertips tingled with an influx of angry heat. Gangee had found something. Had the Torvals harmed a hair on Anisette’s head? He’d kill them—no, he wasn’t barbaric, he’d have them sevendusted and banished to the beyond.

  Possibly after some torture.

  “I don’t see why anyone would be surprised I had a panic attack,” Anisette commented. If Embor hadn’t been so focused on her, he’d have missed the dryness in her tone.

  “I was surprised,” he told her, thinking of the assault. Compassionate, tranquil Anisette, teaching herself pain magic? “Your behavior was highly irregular.”

  “I know.” She stared at her hands. “I’m sorry. Will I be put on probation?”

  “It’s already forgotten,” he assured her. He’d resorted to a touch of blackmail to ensure her cooperation, so her concern was understandable. Once they were bonded, they’d see eye to eye on most everything. Coercion would be unnecessary.

  He’d explained this to Skythia, but she’d laughed so hard she’d given herself hiccups. She had no respect for the sanctity of such a union. No wonder the Seers had predicted she’d never bond with another fairy.

  Gangee sorted through his medicants closet until he found an amber vial. “I’ll prescribe healing globes for anxiety.”

  “She’ll take them,” Embor said at the same time Anisette said, “No, thank you.”

  “Princess, you can’t treat yourself for this. If it happens again…” Gangee opened his fingers as if allowing a moth to escape. “Into the water with you.”

  Anisette’s beautiful lips tightened. “How do you know about that?”

  Embor had told Gangee about most of last night, leaving out the blue dye and how much he’d wanted to bed the princess. The healer probably took the second part for granted, all things considered.

  Gangee smiled. “The Primary described his remedy when he made your appointment.”

  “The Primary is neither my sib nor my spouse that he has authority over my medical treatment,” Anisette retorted.

  The healer didn’t so much as blink, because what Anisette said was true. Embor had no authority over her medical treatment, nor she his.

  Yet.

  “You’re in complete control.” Gangee placed his fingers against her wrist. “However, your pulse has increased by fifteen percent in the past several minutes.”

  Anisette exhaled, and her heels thudded the exam table. “I’m frustrated.”

  “If you prefer naturopathy, I’ll prescribe two weeks of rest and aromatherapy,” Gangee suggested. Part of survival training included non-magical lifestyle options. “Stress is still part of your life. Your anxiety could flare up again. When I said your tension levels were within normal parameters, I didn’t mean they were low.”

  “I’m a Court trainee,” she said. “Stress is an occupational hazard.”

  “All the more reason to take two weeks off. Perhaps a visit to Gala? It’s nicer than Cappita this time of year.”

  “I can’t take time off.” She raised her hand, pressing her finger to her lips, before jerking it away. “I have a project due in human studies, the Midsummer ball is next week, I’m scheduled to volunteer at the clinic and I’m babysitting the triplets for Jake and Talista’s anniversary.”

  Embor noted with some satisfaction she hadn’t listed any activities involving Warran Torval. It was good the bastard had scant influence over her. She wouldn’t mourn when the Court banished him.

  “All of that can be postponed or skipped.” Gangee fingerprinted a message globe, eschewing paper for the prescription. “I’ll authorize a leave of absence.”

  “Princess Anisette, when was your last vacation?” Embor asked.

  She shoved her hands under her legs. Her feet stopped swinging. “I accompanied Talista, Jake and the triplets to—”

  “If the triplets were involved, it wasn’t a vacation,” Embor said with a slight smile.

  For a moment she smiled back, a curl of her lips that began in one corner and overtook her whole face. To Embor’s knowledge it marked the first time they’d smiled at one another simultaneously.

  But then she said, “When was the last time you went on holiday?”

  “That’s hardly relevant.” He’d faked long weekends for his secret project. His last actual vacation had been in the aftermath of his kidnapping. Skythia—and the nightmares—had forced him on medical leave. He’d lasted one month until he’d threatened to torch Skythia’s house in Key West. His only scars from his misfortune now were the bite marks on his arms and his poor hearing.

  No matter what Skythia thought. No matter that the nightmares had returned.

  “Why is it not relevant?” Anisette tugged her braid over her shoulder and began to reaffix the binding. “If the Primary doesn’t need a vacation, a Court trainee doesn’t either.”

  “Primaries don’t take vacations.” Embor clasped his hands behind his back before he gave in to the urge to unravel her shining auburn hair. She rarely wore it loose, and last night while wet it had looked—she had looked—utterly seductive.

  “Skythia takes vacations, and she’s a Primary.” Anisette snapped the elastic on her braid and flipped it out of her way.

  “I’ve taken three long weekends this year and returned to Court quite invigorated.”

  “That’s hardly two weeks.”

  “I didn’t need two weeks.”

  “But I do? You’re no mere Fey, I suppose.”

  “I can’t be.” Primary was the hardest job in the Realm, but in forty-eight years, with minimal breaks and maximum pressure, he’d never attacked another fairy unprovoked, spontaneously adopted combat magic, or had his memories tampered with.

  Not even his kidnappers had tampered with his mind. They’d wanted him to recall every single detail with photographic clarity. Gangee had offered to wipe him, but Embor had opted to keep his nightmares close and his vengeful fantasies closer.

  He hoped that hadn’t been a mistake.

  “Everyone needs time off,” Anisette said. “Any good healer knows that.”

  “As a healer yourself, you know you can’t ignore what happened to you or how you reacted,” Gangee said with a touch of asperity. “This good healer insists you accept the pills or the vacation.”

  “Three long weekends is nine days total,” Embor said. “That’s close to two weeks.”

  Anisette’s lips quivered, and Gangee rubbed his mouth in a way Embor recognized. Why was that amusing? When he tried to joke, no one laughed, yet they found humor in his logical conclusions.

  She slid off the examination table and straightened her skirts. “Let me think about it and juggle some commitments. I’ll choose by tomorrow.”

  “I wa
nt you back in three days for a training session on panic reactions. Instinctive magic can be dangerous.” Gangee didn’t specify the agony spell, but they all knew what he meant.

  Anisette closed her eyes. “I don’t think I’ll do that again.”

  Unfortunately, Embor agreed, which is why Gangee would be teaching her a sleep spell. If Warran or Ophelia assailed her, she might hesitate to inflict pain but not to put them to sleep. She could let Embor shoulder the guilt of harming them. It was his duty as Primary, and if he took more pleasure in some duties than in others, so be it.

  “I also want her implanted with a Realmside escape tooth,” Embor said. The ones for humanspace weren’t formatted for the Realm. “If someone besides me had found her, this conversation might not be so cordial.”

  Anisette reddened. “Yes. Well. I’d be honored to receive instruction from you, Healer Gangee.” She indicated the clock. “I have class in thirty minutes, and I’ve not yet breakfasted. I’m sure both of you have more important things to do than lecture a Court trainee about the pressures of modern life.” She hesitated by the door.

  “I need to speak with Gangee on a different matter,” he told her. Conflicting emotions crossed her features at his words. He was unable to decipher any of them. “I’ll find you later to discuss your decision.”

  “Don’t trouble yourself,” she said tartly. That emotion he could decipher easily. “You’ve done enough.”

  “Nevertheless.” He watched her leave, watched her blue skirt sway back and forth and her spine stiffen with each step. He waited until she was out of range of the privacy spell on the office before turning back to Gangee.

  “What did you find?”

  The healer flipped up the clipboard. He sketched a rough outline of a fairy brain in a blank area. “Spirit magic affected her at some point in the past several days. I found fresh indications here and here, in the memory center.”

  “I knew it.” Embor grabbed the cold marble tabletop and squeezed, wishing it was Warran Torval’s neck. He’d been right to mistrust that man. There were no grounds for anyone to have used the sixth arts on an innocent like the princess. “Can you reverse it?”

  Gangee edged around the table until he was on the other side. “I don’t think so. It appears to be a one-time amnesia spell. Further tampering could erase more than it restores.”

  “I’ll call her back.” Anisette couldn’t have gotten far. “We have to tell her.”

  “I don’t advise it,” Gangee said. “Not yet. Knowing a spell has affected one’s memories has been found to hinder recovery.”

  Embor would prefer to level with Anisette about this—and turn her against Warran—but Gangee was the healer.

  “Very well, but if the Torvals are using spirit magic, we must act quickly.” Embor’s thought processes kicked into high gear as a fierce protectiveness surged. How dare anyone hurt Anisette? “First we’ll inform the cabinet. Then we’ll call an emergency session of the Elder Court. The Torvals will be sevendusted and exiled before she returns from vacation.” He’d see to it she disappeared from the Court’s radar until Warran and Ophelia were so far out of the picture they might as well no longer exist.

  “I’m sorry, Primary. We can’t do that.” Gangee sidled further behind the table.

  Embor had no idea why other people behaved as if he were about to burst into shrapnel. Skythia was the one with the temper. Embor had constructive ways of dealing with anger.

  Like banishing his rivals. “Of course we can.”

  “We don’t have sufficient evidence. Whoever cast this spell hid their work too well for me to isolate a perpetrator. If we bring Anisette’s situation to public notice, the Commission for Truth will be forced to consider all possibilities during the time period.”

  Embor’s fist, seemingly of its own volition, slammed into the marble. “Who would do this to her but the Torvals?”

  “Some might say you would.”

  He flexed his fingers, heat flickering up his arms in waves. In a voice he knew sounded more like a growl, he said, “Explain.”

  Gangee began to draw something in his book. “Several trainees overheard the princess with you in the corridor last night.”

  The Court dormitories boasted an eighty percent occupancy rate. As fixated as he’d been on protecting Anisette, he hadn’t considered that. “What was overheard?”

  “Enough to know you had a difference of opinion.”

  “That would lead me to use spirit magic on her—why?”

  “It wasn’t a civil argument,” Gangee said.

  “I’ll grant you that.” She’d screamed and threatened him. She’d also burned out the light system and smacked him with an agony spell. The exchange could have been misconstrued. “The fix is simple. She’ll explain her panic attack to the truthseekers.”

  “That’s not all.” Gangee rubbed his mouth and chin as if wiping away words he didn’t want to say. “There’s a rumor you plan to obstruct her courtship with Warran as part of your political strategy.”

  “The Commission won’t heed anything that preposterous.”

  “You could be right,” Gangee said. “Nevertheless, I heard from several sources today you’ve set your sights on Anisette. I disagree you’ve done anything openly, but it’s ironic there’s a grain of truth in the rumors.”

  “How could anyone have guessed?” Embor said, aghast. “The only ones who know are members of our cabinet. Would one of us have—?”

  “Don’t look at me,” Gangee interrupted with a glimmer of teeth. “I value my appendages.”

  “The information has to have come from inside.” Embor began listing individuals and how he’d question them. A leak amongst his advisors and staff, even when it pertained to non-critical information like relationships, was unacceptable.

  Gangee held up his hands. “Hold off on interrogations. There’s no mention of the Seers in the rumor. Could be the Torvals spreading it as proof of poor sportsmanship.”

  “Any dealings Warran has with her are a waste of everyone’s time.” The hours she’d spent in Warran’s company, though it hadn’t escalated to a bond test, made Embor grind his teeth. If he weren’t careful, Gangee would be doing dental work on him next.

  She wouldn’t be spending another second in Warran’s company if he had to lock her—no, Warran—in a deadspace dungeon.

  “The rumor could have come from anybody with a political stake, or even a social one.”

  “There’s no evidence. It isn’t possible anyone could have detected my interest in the princess,” Embor said stiffly.

  Unless… A memory of bowing to her in front of Warran, Cassandra and the children crossed his mind. Blast.

  “I agree. Your interest in Anisette is undetectable.” Gangee tapped the clipboard. “Based on your interactions today, if you mean to court her, you might want to—”

  Embor waved off the advice with a sharp gesture. Skythia’s jabs about his non-relationship with the princess were enough. “Let’s not stray from the subject. I still see no issue with having the Commission investigate the use of spirit magic on Anisette. It will lead directly to the Torvals.”

  “There’s one piece of evidence pointed at Warran and Ophelia. The timeline. However flimsy, there are two pointed at you. The argument and the rumors. The truthseekers would include you in their investigation.”

  “That is…” He wanted to say ridiculous, but Gangee wasn’t a man who indulged in the ridiculous. It was why he was one of Embor’s closest advisors. “Possible. They wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to scrutinize me.”

  The Commission for Truth, a subcommittee of the Younger Court, was none too fond of Embor. Five years ago, he’d initiated a full analysis of the AOC, doubling the workload of many truthseekers for a search that hadn’t turned up the evidence of foul play Embor was positive existed. The AOC’s directors ran the agency as close to the vest as he and Skythia ran their cabinet. But there was no way they were blameless after what he’d experienced at the
hands of four of their agents—agents who’d claimed the AOC was more corrupt and evil than they themselves were.

  The fact the AOC supported the Torvals’ campaign was also significant. Embor and Skythia’s policies were at odds with the AOC agenda to increase traffic to and from humanspace.

  “I’m willing to risk it. The truthseekers will find nothing relevant,” Embor said. He could curtail his secret project for a time, and if they uncovered his energy globe use, it was hardly indicative of the sixth arts.

  “We can’t involve you in a muddle right before the election.”

  Embor wanted to throw something. Break something. Detonate something. “Damn and blast! There has to be a way to get those deviant Torvals out. Of. My. Court. I’ll blackmail them, pretend I can prove what they did.”

  “You can’t lower yourself to that level.”

  He didn’t care what level he was on, as long as it protected Anisette and the Realm. “We’ll raid their villa, and you can trace the magic use.”

  Gangee shook his head. “We can’t get a warrant without evidence, and by then it might be too late.” Though Primaries could direct the Commission to perform certain trials, everyone’s power had checks and balances.

  “I shouldn’t need a warrant to safeguard my bondmate.” His anger spiking, he resurrected the memory of the mineral springs lapping near his crotch to cool himself. If he weren’t sleep-deprived, he wouldn’t have so much trouble controlling his destructive side.

  When Embor indicated Gangee could speak, the man said, “There’s one more thing.”

  “No.” Embor frowned so hard his eyebrows ached. “I deny any more complications.”

  “There’s one more thing,” Gangee repeated. “It’s significant.”

  Embor closed his eyes as flames raced through his veins. He was too sapped to stop it. The air in Gangee’s office heated. He needed to tame the fire or bottles would explode.

  The memory of a cold swim wouldn’t be enough.

  Using a trick he’d learned from his physical trainer, Embor dropped to the ground between the door and table and began to do push-ups. He shoved against the ground, rising and falling, until the temperature in the room dropped and the blaze in his bloodstream flickered into smoke. Until the burn of anger was replaced by the burn of exertion.