by K. F. Breene
Maybe mages would be more powerful if they worked more like witches.
He ran his fingers through his hair, forgetting halfway through that the hairdresser had put a styling serum in it. He untangled his fingers and patted things back into place. He hadn’t cared much about his appearance since he’d left town after his brother had died, but a big part of him wanted Penny to see the man he once was. It would make him feel normal for once.
“It must have been a Baron,” Emery said, sighing and leaning back. “Besides the High Chancellor, there’s no one else powerful enough to water down an investigation. The only way someone could use a Baron’s office without his knowledge, then get an investigation evaporated, is if someone in a lower position ordered the killing, and the Baron went along with it after the fact.”
“Doubtful.”
Emery had to agree. Those in the guild liked to hold on to power with everything they had.
“I have to break into the guild compound.” He felt resignation bleed through him. “I have to check out their main offices. It’s the only way to know for sure.”
“If you want to confirm the particular circumstances of your brother’s death, then yes. Or you could just kill them all. I would help you, of course. I know where they live and their daily routines. Though I couldn’t let my assistance to you be known, you understand. Even with the top tier taken out, they will still be able to function. They would have their whole faction hunting my vampires. My businesses would be in jeopardy.”
The thought struck home. Emery’s gaze slid over to the adjoining door.
What would happen to Penny when this was all over? Her house was in this area. Her family and her life. She couldn’t leave with him and traipse across the worlds—it was no way for a girl like her to live. She deserved so much more.
But where would she go if the guild continued tracking her?
“They don’t know that she is a natural,” Clyde said. He’d clearly seen Emery’s worry roll across his features. He was agitated enough that he wasn’t doing much to disguise his thoughts right now. “Not yet. Right now, they are just curious about her. They are still working on your first ward, which they know is yours. We have time.”
“After they break mine, they’ll find the one her father put up a long time ago. That one will throw them for a loop. It’s old and put together well. It’s held up all these years. It’ll help.”
“We can distract them with something else, and burn down the house so they can’t get any information on her.”
Emery sat forward. “Burn down the house? That’s her family’s house. You can’t burn it down.”
Clyde put his hands up. “That is not for me to decide. I apologize; I spoke out of turn. This matter has been handed over to Darius. He’ll take over the logistics.”
Emery tapped his phone in his pocket, just making sure it was still there. He had exactly one number stored in it. Hers. He’d exchanged digits with her before closing that adjoining door, with a command to text him if she didn’t feel like knocking. He’d figured texting would be easier if she felt shy. It had been a shot in the dark. One that had clearly failed. She should’ve checked in by now.
Had he remembered to tell her that vampires could magically open locks? She could be operating under a false sense of security.
“Speaking of Darius.” Clyde held up the second sheet of paper before laying it onto the table. “These are the spells he is requesting. We’ll supply all the necessary ingredients, as usual. They are being assembled now, and will be in the warehouse as early as tomorrow morning. Some are from a newly procured volume. The pages have been copied and will be given to you when Darius gets here, but the book itself will not be supplied. I apologize for the inconvenience.” They didn’t want Emery to steal the book. Wise. He would’ve tried, just like the last time. “Payment will be in cash or gold, as usual. For the usual spells, the price will be as previously established, and they’re to be color-coded as specified on the paper. You can negotiate your fee for the new spells with Darius when he arrives.”
“Fine.”
The knock on the inner door had Emery’s heart speeding up. Holding his breath, he crossed the distance and pulled open the door.
His breath caught in his throat. Her brown hair tumbled down over her shoulders, the reddish streaks like flames in the low light. A large T-shirt draped over her frame, hinting at breasts and ignoring curves altogether. It ended mid-thigh, showing shapely legs below. Fluffy white slippers supplied by the hotel covered her feet.
It took her a moment to focus on him, her eyes tired and vague, but when she did, it was the best feeling in the world. Surprise rolled over her features and her gaze dropped down his body before climbing back up to his face. There they roamed, growing increasingly more intense until her face flushed. She didn’t look away. Instead, her gaze held his, and lust kindled in her eyes.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
I stood there like a dope with my mouth hanging open. Emery’s hair had been cut and styled in what I called a whoosh number, very trendy, and for good reason. His scruff had been cut off completely, but the clean-shaven look didn’t erase the tough, masculine quality that he so effortlessly exuded. His button-up shirt hugged his broad shoulders and kissed his pecs before falling down his flat stomach. His light-colored slacks showed off his powerful legs, and I couldn’t stop staring.
I just couldn’t stop.
Looking like this, with the dirt and crust stripped away (that sounded gross, but I honestly hadn’t noticed it until now), he was easily on par with the vampire. Sleek and sexy.
His smile reached his glittering eyes. He’d noticed his effect on me, but I wasn’t embarrassed. He’d earned it. He could just add this to his ego bucket.
“You’re ready for bed,” he said, stepping back into his room.
I’d meant to say goodnight and turn in, but I found myself walking after him like a lost lamb.
Get a hold of yourself!
“As I said—”
“Ah!” A jet of red zipped from my hand at the unexpected voice.
The shape moved so fast that I barely saw it, but not fast enough. My stream of magic raked across a limb, searing away shirt fabric and blistering the flesh underneath.
Clyde stopped near the door, his eyes tight and his burned arm hanging at his side.
“Oh God, I hope you heal quickly.” I bit my lip.
“Don’t take the Lord’s name in vain.” Emery laughed and crossed to the couch.
“Sorry. I didn’t know Emery had company.” I grimaced. “I probably should’ve started with sorry, shouldn’t I have? Double sorry, then.”
“I thought you weren’t trained.” Clyde glanced at his arm, already a bit less black.
“Oh. There you go. You do heal. That’s great.” I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “And no, I’m not trained. I randomly came up with that red zapping spell last night when mice ran out at me.”
“Then you are a better mouser than a cat. How wonderful.” His tone was so dry that he could light it on fire.
“No, actually. I didn’t get any of the mice. They’re faster—” His face hardened. “Never mind. It doesn’t matter.”
Emery laughed harder.
“I’ll just…” I backed toward the door to my room.
“No, no, please.” Clyde held up his arm, probably to show that he wasn’t hurt. He wasn’t fooling anyone. His ruined shirt sleeve dangled down his side and the blackened skin oozed pus. “I was just telling Emery that a haircut and a little bit of soap and water can do wonders.”
“And first aid. First aid also does wonders.” I pointed at his arm, glinting in the soft light of the room. “And bandages. A word to the wise. Don’t walk by the dining room until you’ve got bandages. Otherwise you’ll sell far less desserts.”
Emery doubled over, holding his stomach, guffawing.
“Yes. Cute.” Clyde’s lips twisted, and I was pretty sure that was meant to be a smile. My unplann
ed attack had tarnished his good mood, though I couldn’t exactly blame him for that. “I will check in with you tomorrow evening. During the day, a car will be made available, should you need it. If you do attempt to infiltrate the guild compound, I would caution you—”
“You’re going to drip on the floor.” I pointed at the oozing drop crawling down his forearm. He gave me a dead stare. As in, soon I’d be dead if I kept talking. “Sorry. It’s just that the rug is white. But it’s fine. Your house, your rules.”
Emery’s laughter was making this worse.
Well, technically, my continued babbling was making this worse, but he wasn’t helping.
“As I was saying—”
“Sorry.” I curled my lips inward.
“—their compound is a complex system. It would be wise to thoroughly study it before attempting entry, and even then, consulting with me will yield you the best results. I have a semblance of a map, which I’ll leave at the front desk. It’s not detailed, but it’s something. Also, and I’m sure you’ve thought of this, three-year-old files from the Baron’s office would’ve surely been purged to their recordkeeping facility. It might not be as easy to break into that facility magically, but there will certainly be less people. But on all of this, I’d advise you to wait until Darius arrives.”
“Thank you, Clyde, I’ll take that under advisement.” Emery wiped his eyes.
“I’ll take my leave. Miss Bristol, a pleasure.” Clyde nodded stiffly and made for the door.
After he left, Emery braced his forearms on his knees. “Very little rattles that vampire. I’ve known him for years, and he’s always in good spirits and teasing. Yet in less than twelve hours, you’ve made him lose control over and over. He’s wary of you, and I think you’ve ruined his mood altogether.” He shook his head and straightened back up, his eyes shining with unshed tears of laughter. “You are an absolute gem.”
I stared at the door and picked at a fingernail. “He was pissed. I really didn’t mean to rattle him.”
“It’s fine. Come here. Sit down. Do you need anything?”
I trudged toward Emery, the fatigue of uncertainty dragging at me. I plopped down next to him on the couch, careful of what I was doing with my legs because I didn’t have pants on. “I need sleep. You?”
“Same. What… Uhm.” He rubbed his nose. “Did you have an okay evening? Oh, did I tell you that vampires can magically open locks?”
I frowned, thinking back. “No, don’t think so. Huh. Well, there goes my sense of security.”
He straightened up, looking at me intensely. “This place isn’t ideal, but they won’t try to hurt us. At least not until Darius gets here. We’ll be safe enough tonight, I’m almost positive.”
“It’s not ideal, sure, but there are no mice that I’ve seen, and it is absolute luxury. I’ll take this and the predator lock-pickers over a musty bed above a noisy bar any day.”
He smiled and bumped me gently with his shoulder. “You might not always say that, but for now, I’d have to agree.” His eyes clouded over and the smile dripped off his face. He glanced at my open door. “Would you…” Butterflies filled my stomach. “It’s no big deal if not, but would you mind… Uhm.”
I shrugged, playing it cool. “Yeah, sure. The bed is big enough. We’ll have plenty of room, so I won’t have to lie on you.”
He hesitated. “What?”
“What?”
His brow furrowed. “Oh, I just…” He pointed at the door to my room.
“Wanted to sleep in the same room, right? Because that would be safer, just in case?”
His stare intensified and a queasy feeling replaced the butterflies. “Oh. Yeah, we could do that,” he said. “If you wanted.”
My stomach clenched and heat rushed to my face. “What were you going to say?”
“Oh, nothing. Yeah, sleeping in the same bed would be fine, if that would make you feel safer. I sleep the same wherever. On my back.” He cleared his throat. “I can just…” He waved his finger in the air, trying for some sort of communication that didn’t communicate anything. “I’ll just get something… I’ll just change.” Emery got up stiffly. Uncomfortably.
Crap on a cracker.
He hadn’t meant for us to sleep in the same bed. And now he probably thought I was throwing myself at him because of his new look.
“I didn’t mean sex,” I blurted, immediately making the situation more awkward. I wanted to go stick my head in a toilet and flush. “I mean—ha ha. That came out too blunt. But I just thought you’d meant we’d sleep, you know…like last night. I mean, but with more space. Because of the lock issue. The locks here, not last night—”
His constipated expression dropped away until his eyes were laughing again. His shoulders relaxed. “I knew what you meant, Turdswallop. I just didn’t know you’d be up for it. Or even leaving the door open. But this is better. If anything should happen, we won’t have to waste precious seconds running to each other.”
He’d just wanted to sleep with the door open. Our own beds, with an open door between them. But here I was, trying to take a running leap and dive into his bed. “Oh. The door. Ha ha. Right. That’s cool—”
“Let’s use this room. It’s the vampire room. It’ll have better fortifications.”
“This is the vampire room?” I asked, looking around as he slipped into the bathroom. It was bigger than mine, but not by much, and the setup looked just as luxurious—plush bed, check; fireplace, check; and stylishly decorated dressers, check. “Why is my room adjoined? Is it for a lesser vampire or something?”
I pulled back the duvet on the bed. Down, and delightful. I loved snuggling into a bed, and this setup would absolutely provide.
“Your room is for the blood source.” Emery emerged from the bathroom in a pair of boxer briefs and a white T-shirt. I averted my eyes in case I embarrassed myself further.
“I spoke to my mother.” I climbed into the bed and sighed as I sank into the plush mattress. “Oh, this is good. Vampires sure know how to live.”
“They have a lot of practice.” Emery pushed the door to my room wide open and glanced in. “If they come in on your side, we’ll have more time to hear them.”
“My mother says that as soon as they confront my father’s ward, they’ll know exactly who I am. They’ll know my lineage, that he had been lying when he said I got my mother’s magic and not his, though I have no idea how, and the race will be on.”
“The race is already on.” He hesitated at his side of the bed, looking at the duvet.
“What?” I asked, already making a pillow fort for my head.
A troubled expression crossed his face before he gingerly pulled back the covers and slid into the depths. His sigh matched mine from a moment before.
“Nice, right?” I punched my pillows so they were the optimum level of fluffy.
He grabbed a pillow, and I could see he planned to put them all away so he could sleep as he always slept in the many places he substituted for a real bed.
“No.” I put my hand on his arm to stop the lunacy. “No, you need to remember what a bed should feel like. This no-pillow ballyhoo is doing yourself a disservice. Get out. I’ll deal with this.”
“What?”
“Get out.” I shoved him with all I had, getting one of his butt cheeks off the mattress. As expected, he got the message. “There is an art to cloudlike sleeping. Just like a spell, there are lots of ingredients.”
“You’ve been making spells your whole life,” Emery said, watching my face. He really should’ve been watching my hands so he could remember how to re-create this setup. Once he tried it, it would change his life, I was certain. “Your organization, your ingredients, your way of doing things…the motions of magic have been expressing themselves, even if your actual magic has not.”
I gave my creation a test lie. “Oh yeah. This is the stuff.” I rolled out and readjusted it before gesturing for him to take my place. “Hurry up, I’m tired.” I shoved him down.
His eyes were glued to mine and a little smile played across his lips.
For a guy who hadn’t laughed much in the last few years, he sure seemed to find a lot funny.
“So even though I couldn’t express my real magic, I found ways to express the nature of it.” I tucked him in until the covers were snuggled up to his face and his body was cocooned. “There. What says you?”
His stare still held mine. “It’s hot.”
“Tough. You’ll learn to love it.” I peeled away with a laugh and made my own cocoon. “So anyway, no, the race isn’t on yet. They aren’t actively looking for me or you; they are looking out for you. They aren’t hunting—they are preparing. My mother says that’s a big difference.”
Emery’s head moved against the pillows. “Yes, it is. We don’t have much time, but we do have some. I don’t want to wait for Darius to do recon, but we’ll get a few hours of sleep first. Then we’ll check out the compound. I want to see what spells I’m working against. Clyde was right. I need the record room. Everything I need is sure to be there.”
“And then?”
“And then I’ll make a store of spells, using your increased power to help, and go back and peel that room open like a can of sardines. They have a natural working for them, but she has no imagination. No drive. I don’t need to overpower her spells; I need to outthink them. Given my training over the last three years, that won’t be a problem.”
“Maybe it’s not that she doesn’t have drive or imagination—it’s that she doesn’t want to be there in the first place. Maybe she doesn’t have any other options.”
I heard movement before Emery’s fingers wrapped around my wrist and pulled.
“Don’t disturb the cocoon!” But it was no use—he was sliding me toward him while scooting toward me. We met in the middle and he pulled me to his chest.
“That will not be your life. You will get to choose your own future, do you hear me? I made a promise and I will see it through.” His breath rustled my hair. “Somehow,” he whispered.
