I fought through the darkness. My blood-drenched hands felt like lead and my head was becoming lighter as the seconds ticked away. The cloud of darkness came and I attempted to fight it off.
When I didn’t respond immediately, he continued, “You are mine. I will protect you. Heal you.”
I mumbled a weak “no.” It was a feeble but defiant rebuttal. I needed Conner’s help, but I would not be indebted to him. He would not take me and try to use my weakened state to convince me to be by his side. He ignored me—the weak magic that pushed off me wasn’t enough to do damage. I swallowed more of my defiant words, the metaphorical act just as painful if I’d actually done it.
I awoke in a large room, the soft bed a welcome change from the floor that I remembered. I pressed my hand to my neck—my unmarked and unscarred neck. No physical reminder of Harrah’s betrayal, just the anger that raged in me. It took great effort for me not to jump out of the bed to find her. I pushed away the covers, revealing my naked body. I was clean, uninjured, and unmarked, and I had Conner to thank for it. He’d probably respond with his rhetoric about wanting to live in a world separated from the humans with just us. I was so happy to be healed and alive I’d half listen out of courtesy because my anger toward Harrah and thirst for revenge had left me depleted. Listening to stories of an ideal world where people like her would be killed by a spell seemed more palatable than it had been before.
I looked around the grand room, far more spectacular than needed for convalescence. The pale yellow walls were enhanced by ornate molding. A small, exotic plant in the corner was different than anything I’d seen before. Its blooms produced a delicate scent of lilac and honeysuckle. Hardwood floors were adorned by elegant, expensive plush rugs. The large windows were open and pale moonlight streamed in. I wondered if it was as artificial as everything in the room. I tried not to think about the level of power Conner must possess to make these things and maintain them.
Each time the thought of the debt I’d incurred popped in my head, I pushed it aside. I refused to think about the nonsense and rhetoric I’d be treated to, or the fact that I would probably have to try to escape because his plan most likely involved me and some variation of Stockholm syndrome. I slipped deeper under the silk sheets that felt light and cool against my naked body and tugged the top one even tighter around me.
“You are as you were,” Conner said, his tone even, devoid of any emotion. His appearance mirrored his voice. His lips were a thin even line. I stared at him, holding his gray gaze. He was dressed in slacks and a pale green shirt that did little to flatter his natural persimmon red hair color, which he’d reverted back to. I sat up, making sure to keep the sheet tightly wrapped around me. His approach was slow but had the same confidence and assurance that he always displayed. After he’d sat on the edge of the bed, he lightly placed his hand on my chin and tilted my head to the side and assessed my neck. I assumed he was making sure it was completely absent of any reminders of Harrah’s attack.
“The very people you’ve aligned yourself with against me are the ones that did this to you,” he said softly, dropping his hand to my shoulder.
I swallowed—a reminder I could now do it without pain. I looked down at my hands. There was a hint of a glow, probably a result of the light that filtered in, but they weren’t stained with blood.
His thumb stroked my throat where there should have been a scar. His tentative, gentle touch moved across the skin as though it was still injured and needed to be handled with care.
“Thank you,” I said, my tone as low as his.
“No thanks needed. You were injured, it was my pleasure to help.”
I shifted my gaze from his because I didn’t want my gratitude to cloud my judgment. I wanted to see who he really was and not the one he wanted me to see. The face that he presented to me was that of a charismatic demagogue who enthralled people with his kindness, mesmerized them with his words, and seduced them into doing foolish things. I was given, again, a glimpse of the man that people were willing to follow over a cliff. They’d become embroiled in an unwinnable battle, facing down a tank with only their hands as weapons. This was the man whose words obscured the line between right and wrong as he deluded people into accepting his lie that there was hope in the most desperate situation.
He stared at me for even longer and there was something different about the way he looked at me, a longing that I’d seen when he’d claimed me as his consort. He leaned into me, and I rushed to my feet, cinching the sheet tighter around me. “No,” I said firmly.
Pulling his lip into a sneer, he narrowed his eyes on me. “I’ve saved your life, when you’ve given me no reason to ever do so. How cruel it is to be so dismissive of my act of benevolence.”
It’s not really benevolence if you keep bragging about it.
“I owe you gratitude, not me.”
After several moments of silence, he nodded then came to his feet. “Let me get you something to eat.” His fingers whirled, the gentle rhythmic sound of water falling caressed the air, and off in the distance birds sang. He was laying it on pretty thick, giving me a taste of the utopia that my mother had spoken of. A land where Legacy were surrounded by elegance and beauty as a result of extraordinary magic.
“How long have I been here?” I asked before he left.
“Five days. I kept you in a state of sleep so that you could heal and only woke you to feed you.”
What a glorious way of telling me you slipped me a magical roofie.
He inhaled, and moments later he was standing close, too close. I fought the urge to cringe as he reached forward to touch my cheek. “You were injured badly, left for dead and required a great deal of magic to heal. Let me assure you that it isn’t without consequence. It took a great deal out of me as well…”
“Thank you, again.” Our gazes locked, but he kept an indecipherable look on his face. Eventually his lips curled into a plaintive smile.
“Conner, I cannot express how much I appreciate you. I would have died without your assistance. But it would be cruel to lead you on, to make you think that a couple days here in this striking and beautiful place will change my mind, when it will not. We aren’t on the same team. We are by all intents and purposes adversaries. You will not change my mind, and I won’t change yours.” I kept my voice light and gentle. I appreciated him saving my life, but I was aware his intentions were anything but altruistic.
As he rose to leave, he pointed to the right. “The bathroom is that way; there are clothes for you in there as well.”
I headed for the bathroom and stopped. “I would like to go home after I shower.”
“Where will you go, back to those who betrayed you? The person who slashed your throat, like a coward when you were at your weakest, and left you to die—do you even know if she was acting on her own or if it was a group plan? Will you continue to serve them while they lie in wait to strike again when you are in another weakened state? The next time I might be unavailable to help. Please know that of those you’ve encountered, I am the only one willing to extend kindness and mercy to you.”
He rolled his shoulders back, stood taller, and shrugged off the persona he’d donned for the sake of getting me to drop my defenses and skepticism.
I realized he was right. I didn’t know what I was going back to. Was it just Harrah acting alone, or had the attack been an orchestrated act? Thinking about it made me sick. The very person who’d sent his strange creature after me and Savannah, locked me in another realm with the same animal, and vowed to allow me to die like I lived—which was an expression I was still trying to figure out—was the person who had saved me.
He’d mastered his anger, his face once again gentle and welcoming. “You will need to eat. Shower, and then you can evaluate what you want to do. I suspect being here with me will not seem like such a reprehensible option.”
Showering didn’t give me the clarity that I needed. I stood under the running water, my fingers gliding over the area where
the knife wound had been. Then I let them trail to my stomach, another place where an injury should have been. I wondered about Gareth and Savannah. Were they looking for me? Did Gareth know what Harrah had done?
The large bathroom, the size of my room in my apartment, made me feel more at home than the massive bedroom I’d been in. Between the blue-gray walls that reminded me of the sky after a heavy rain, the glass-enclosed shower, waterfall shower head, stone tile, and gentle crooning of the birds from the bedroom I felt like I was showering outside.
I stepped out of the shower onto the cool marble floor. It felt good against my bare feet. The sensation was more relaxing than the shower, and I wasn’t sure why. Was the hard floor a reminder that I needed to be resilient throughout this, deal with it, and not be overtaken by the plush carpet situation? If I allowed things to overwhelm me then I wouldn’t think strategically.
As I dressed in the clothes that I found in a closet in the bathroom, I cursed Conner for the use of the word clothes, which for me would have been jeans or a pair of jogging pants and a shirt. Instead, I slipped on a long satin dress that conformed to my body, molding to my curves. I definitely would have liked underwear or at the very least a bra, but the fabric was thick enough that I didn’t feel completely naked. But I felt utterly ridiculous slipping into the thong sandals placed in the corner. I looked like I should be walking on the beach on a private island.
Conner smiled when I stepped into the dining area. His languid gaze slowly trailed over me, taking in my appearance. Once several minutes had passed it was harder to ignore it. Cleanse. I imprinted that word on my mind, made sure I didn’t forget who he was and what he wanted.
“You look beautiful,” he said softly.
I looked down, doing anything to avoid his lingering gaze. “I’m overdressed for pancakes, don’t you think?” It wasn’t really breakfast; it was only three in the morning.
He extended his hand to a chair pulled out for me. “Please, join me.”
I slipped into the chair in silence.
“I’m glad you are here with me.”
I wanted to tell him that this wasn’t a date. He’d saved my life, I reminded myself, but I had a feeling he would keep revealing things to me that would chip away at my gratitude.
He maintained the smile, and I focused on the table with more food than two people could eat, even with my appetite. He served me fruit, an assortment of cheeses, meat that looked like lamb with an odd gravy, and French toast. It was an odd breakfast, but since it was still the middle of the night I supposed we could eat whatever the hell we wished.
We ate in silence for several moments, and ignoring his unwavering attention was getting harder. I gave him a half-smile; he returned it in kind, baring his perfectly aligned white teeth.
He had only eaten a few bites before he wiped his mouth with the napkin and tossed it in his plate of half-eaten food.
“Your skills are abecedarian and amateurish and in great need of refinement.”
I didn’t point out that my “abecedarian” and “amateurish” skills had kicked his ass on several occasions.
I simply smiled, plaintively. “It has served my purpose over the years and I do believe allowed me to get away from you on many occasions.”
“I didn’t say you were incompetent, just that your magic isn’t as honed as it should be. You don’t have the skills one of your strength should have. How odd that your parents sent you out in this world defenseless.”
“They prepared me just fine,” I snapped. Him talking about my parents seemed blasphemous, knowing how hard they’d tried to teach me in forced secrecy. Our magic meant death, a horrible thing for a child to know, to grasp. I’d been reluctant, and when I wasn’t being an unwilling participant in my lessons, I’d been careless. It wasn’t until several accidents with magic, where we’d been nearly discovered, that I’d learned to be more cautious, and so had my parents. Admittedly, I didn’t learn as much as others had learned. I wished I knew how to teleport and do glamours.
Conner studied me with interest, his eyes inquisitive, seemingly discovering something that he hadn’t seen before—perhaps a weakness he could exploit.
His tone was as gentle and smooth as the finest silk and laden with a sympathy that I’d expect from a friend, not a psychopath with draconian plans. “Our lives have been quite difficult, haven’t they? I guess our parents dealt with it differently. You see us as very different, and perhaps we are. But can you at least agree that we are bound by a unique and perhaps tragic childhood? I lost my parents as well. The wounds are still there.”
I ate, ignoring his stares and most of his conversation, which had devolved to banalities. I saw the trap before me and didn’t doubt it was intentional.
After sliding my plate to the middle of the table, I stood. His eyes trailed my movements. “I would like to go home.”
“To what? What you are going back to will not be what you have known. The veils of dishonesty that the supernaturals had in place have been lifted. The city is in chaos. At least stay here, as a reprieve.” How did he know that? Was he just making it up? What could have happened in the days that I’d been gone?
His words were delivered in such an entrancing tone, denying him was getting harder. “Stay, let me teach you and hone your skills. Make you the true warrior that I know you can be.”
My brow furrowed. Each moment I stayed with him the more confused I would become, and the lines between our differences would blur. Emotions didn’t always align with logic. “Even if the things that you teach me will be used against you in the future? You’d do this knowing that the very things you show me may be what I use to stop you, perhaps even kill you? I will not be swayed,” I offered in challenge.
A smile settled casually on his face, as though I’d whispered words of adoration and love to him instead of my plans to kill him. He couldn’t let a little thing like a threat on his life be of any concern to him.
He nodded once. “I’ll teach you in hopes that you will remember this and never use it against me.”
I felt the burden of the debt that I could not bear. I shook my head and said softly, “No. I want to go home.” I turned and started out of the room. I felt like an ingrate, but Conner and I were on opposing teams, and it was ridiculous to accept a gift from him without the expectation that the repayment would be so high that I’d regret it.
“I could have let you die; do you know why I didn’t?”
Curiosity got the best of me. “A moment of mental clarity,” I offered with a hint of humor.
He threw his head back in laughter, louder and more robust than the hackneyed joke deserved. “I couldn’t kill you any of the times I’ve tried. Despite your novice magic and amateurish delivery.” He rested back, magic lacing around his fingers, vibrant colors of blue, yellow, and red, putting on a light show for me. He caused it to perform for him in a spectacular display of control and skill. The magic smothered the air, a reminder of this strength and power.
He continued, “I couldn’t kill you. For a moment as you bucked against my control, denied my offerings, and rejected me, I considered you a fool unworthy of me. But you survived. Only someone truly deserving of me would have. It was a sign.”
I blew out a hard breath that made my lips rumble. Welcome back, Conner. He’d picked up his first-class ticket to Arrogance-ville. I prepared for him to yammer on about me being his consort and how I was going to be used as his broodmare and would push out his superpowerful magical babies who would be revered like gods.
He didn’t do any of it; instead his gaze rested on me. His eyes traveled along my face, down the curve of my neck, and then to my breasts. Then they lazily lifted to my mouth again. “I’d like to kiss you,” he said quietly.
My tone was just as soft and gentle as his. “I’d like for you to do that, too—so that you’ll be close enough for me to punch you.”
He threw back his head in a boisterous laugh. “I find our banter amusing.”
�
��Really? My threat of violence is amusing to you? You must have been in a state of bliss the times I stabbed you.”
I sat down again and leaned back in my chair, and he did the same, mirroring my posture. It was an intentional act that would make it seem as though we were operating as one.
He waited patiently for me to continue, and no matter how I tried I couldn’t temper my words. “Perhaps me foiling your plans and trying to kill you was too subtle. Let me not mince words here. I’m not interested in you. Period. There isn’t anything you can do to change that. You saved my life—I am grateful—but my opinion of you remains firm.”
His expression didn’t change, as though he was trying to decide whether or not to take me seriously.
“You think what I want is selfish and cruel. I think what you are willing to concede to is just as egregious. Tell me, Anya, how would you like to see the world and our place in it? Throw out caution and everything you think is impossible and tell me.” His tone struck me as genuine curiosity. It was easy to feel this was sincere and not an effort to usher me into complicity and willing acceptance of his dogma.
“I can’t do it, because no matter how powerful you are, you can’t change time. We all live with the consequences of others’ actions. Why do you think we have laws, rules, and regulations? At some point, someone screwed up so terribly rules had to be put in place. Our predecessors screwed up.” I took a breath. “I don’t want to hide anymore or fear I will be hunted like some animal because of something I couldn’t control and had nothing to do with.” I admitted it and immediately regretted it as his eyes softened, along with the edges of his scowl.
“Let me make that happen for you.”
He rose, approaching me slowly, and his features softened. The magic that played over his fingers performed for him, a clear demonstration of his power and an indication of how much I could learn from him. Before he could close the distance between us, I stood, moved away from him, and put several feet between us.
Renegade Magic (Legacy Series Book 3) Page 14
