Guild of Secrets (Obsidian Queen Book 1)

by Shannon Lynn Cook

  Not for the first time in my life, I desperately wish I were a Griffon, capable of reading magic and discerning lies. The thing that worries me is I think I believe Rafe. But I truly, truly wish I didn’t.

  “How will you text me?” I look down, breaking eye contact. “You don’t have my number.”

  Rafe pulls out his phone and hits several buttons. Then he turns the screen toward me.

  There, under his contacts, he has my number under “Lexie.”

  “You swiped it when you had my phone?” I ask, incredulous. “How? You had it for less than thirty seconds.”

  Rafe chuckles under his breath. “You haven’t met too many Foxes, have you, sweetheart? Do you even know how to be one?”

  I clench my hand, resisting the urge to slap the smirk right off his face.

  “Enjoy the rest of your weekend,” he says, stepping past me, already walking away. “Tahoe’s lovely this time of year—you should take a tour of the lake tomorrow.”

  If I had a rock, I’d chuck it at the back of his head. Still, I find myself calling to him, my jaw tight, “Thank you, by the way.”

  He pauses and then slowly turns, standing about ten feet away. “For what?”

  I look at the flashing sign over his head, refusing to meet his eyes until I’ve spit it out. “For getting me away from Morris.”

  Rafe’s mouth doesn’t move, but his eyes shine with amusement. “My pleasure, Lexie.”

  Then he continues, disappearing around a row of flashing five-dollar slot machines.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  I debate going back to the resort and hiding in the suite until the guys return. But I’m too wired to wait for them.

  And I’m a tiny bit nervous about walking by myself. What if I ran into Trent? Pixies are powerful, and this one’s got more than a few screws loose. From what I’ve seen, all the screws might be missing.

  So I make my way to the club, hoping I can get in without any trouble.

  There’s a short line, only a few couples and a group of five college-aged jocks who are easy to ignore.

  The guy manning the door meets my eyes and jerks his head, calling me forward. He pulls the door open, revealing a darkened room that looks more like a twenties-style lounge than the nightclub I expect. “Go ahead.”

  A woman in a gold-sequined gown sings on the stage, accompanied by a single piano. She croons a low, sensual melody that blends with the dark. People dance in front of the stage, and more sit in u-shaped booths lining the walls. As my eyes adjust to the low light, I can make out various potted-tree-lined nooks and alcoves, many with couples making use of the semi-privacy.

  I avert my eyes, afraid I might find one containing Bikini Girl Number Three with her lips all over Gray. Instead, I scan the booths, looking specifically for a blond-haired Viking lookalike towering over the mere mortals around him.

  Just as I thought, Eric’s not hard to spot. He and Jonathan sit at a table with the two girls I saw in the hall yesterday. They left their bikinis at home, though their dresses don’t cover much more than the swimsuits did.

  I come up from behind, scooting in next to Jonathan, taking him by surprise and making him move closer to the girl by his side. Needing something to calm my nerves, I reach for his drink, not even bothering to ask what it is first.

  Jonathan looks at me in surprise, taking in my dress and kiss-me red lips. “Madeline! Gray said you weren’t coming.”

  “I changed my mind.”

  I want to ask where Gray is, but at the same time, I don’t want to know. If he’s not at the table, he’s out there.

  “I’m Kiley,” the girl next to Jonathan says, giving me a little wave, looking unsure if she feels threatened by my presence or not.

  “And I’m Angela,” the girl next to Eric adds.

  “Madeline.” I smile, hoping to assure them I’m not here to steal their dates. Just their friend’s.

  Finally, I give in. “Where’s Gray?”

  Jonathan and Eric exchange a look—it’s brief, but I catch it. Eric very carefully says, “He’s dancing.”

  And though I don’t want to look, my eyes scan the crowd without my permission. I finally spot him in the middle of the group. A woman who must be Bikini Girl Number Three has her arms wrapped around his neck, and she’s pulling him close to talk to him. The music is so loud, her lips are practically next to his ear.

  I can’t see what she looks like. It’s too dark, and she’s too far. But it looks like she has a nice figure, slender but round in all the right places.

  Eric says something to the girl next to him, and then he steps from the booth. “Dance with me, Maddie.”

  I glance at him, startled.

  Towering over me, he extends his hand.

  Even though I’m positive this is a pity dance, Eric’s been too kind to turn down. And besides, if a girl has a chance to press herself against a man who looks like him, she shouldn’t pass it up.

  He leads me to the couples on the floor, and then he pulls me close—a little closer than I expect. I’m flush against his broad chest. The top of my head barely reaches his sternum.

  When I realize he’s moving us closer to Gray and his date, I pull back. “Eric,” I hiss, knowing what he’s doing.

  “Don’t you want him to know you’re here?” he whispers, his jaw near my ear.

  “No,” I lie.

  Eric grins. “Girls don’t wear heels like that if they don’t want to be noticed.”

  “Were you checking out my legs?” I say, feigning surprise.

  “You know I was.” He playfully wags his eyebrows. “After I checked out other things.”

  I poke him in the shoulder. “You are a bad Bunny.”

  He chuckles, and the sound rumbles his chest. “You have no idea.”

  Only one couple separates Gray and us. Eric expertly maneuvers around them, just in time for us to see Bikini Girl Number Three stand on her tiptoes and press a kiss to Gray’s lips.

  I stop moving with the music, going still in Eric’s arms. Eric murmurs a curse under his breath, one that Gray’s magically enhanced hearing picks up. The Wolf pulls back, breaking the kiss, and his gaze lands on Eric. Then it falls on me.

  I’m not sure what he does next because I’m walking away very quickly, pushing past dancing couples, heading for the exit. My emotions are chaotic, and confusion swirls around me, almost palpable.

  Why do I care? I’ve only known Gray for a few days. We’re nothing—less than nothing. He can kiss whomever he wants as often as he pleases.

  And yet…no.

  Maybe it’s a delayed reaction from catching Finn with Maisy, or maybe I’m still worked up from the incident with Morris and his men—either way, I’m a live wire, sparking in the night.

  I can feel my magic swelling, running along my skin, tingling, begging me to release it. I hold it back as I make my way through the casino and push through the glass doors, but once I’m in the night, I let myself blend with the shadows—disappearing from those around me, basking in the privacy my magic affords me.

  Needing a moment just to breathe, I find a bench near the entrance and gulp in the fresh, pine-scented mountain air.

  Not ten seconds later, Gray bursts through the glass doors, hurrying in the direction of our resort. He has the look of a man searching for someone, and I have a good idea who that someone is.

  And though I’m not supposed to hide from him, I follow, curious to see where he’ll go, and what he’ll do once he’s there.

  I have to run to keep up with him—not an easy feat in heels. As I expect, he turns for our resort.

  “Gray,” I call out before he reaches the entrance, expecting the magic to leave me now that I’ve made myself known.

  He turns abruptly and then frowns into the night, looking beyond me. “Madeline?”

  As I walk toward him, I try to pull the spell back, but the magic is too strong to command.

  “I accidentally cloaked,” I say near him, touching his arm so he�
��ll know I’m close.

  He jerks, uneasy. I don’t blame him. It would be more than a little disconcerting to talk to a ghost.

  His free hand finds mine, and he takes it from his arm and winds my fingers through his. He then pulls me around the side of the resort, down one of the paved trails through the lush landscaping. When we’re completely alone, with nothing but a few low lights along the path to illuminate the night, he turns back to me.

  “Can you feel the magic?” he asks.

  I dismiss the kiss for the moment, focus instead on the task of learning to control my gifts.

  I nod and then realize he can’t see me. “I can.”

  “Imagine it’s a jacket.” He still has my hand, probably so he won’t lose me. “Just take it off.”

  I try, I really do, but it doesn’t work.

  “It doesn’t feel like a jacket,” I say, frustrated. “It feels like sand at the beach after you’ve been in the water. It clings to me, impossible to brush off.”

  Sand that fizzes like carbonated water, tickling every inch of me.

  Gray nods, his brow knitting as he frowns. “Then imagine stepping into the ocean—let the water wash it away.”

  I close my eyes, trying to visualize as he tells me, but the magic remains.

  Frustrated, wanting him to see me, I pull my hand from his, clasp his arms, and push the magic, hoping it will extend to him.

  Suddenly, his eyes widen, and I know he can see me. “You did it.”

  I shake my head. “No, I pulled you into it.”

  “It’s progress. At least you took control.”

  My eyes fall to my hands on his arms, and I nod.

  “I didn’t kiss her,” he says suddenly, taking me by surprise. My eyes fly to his, and he takes a step in.

  “Her lips were pressed to yours. Tell me, Gray, was she performing CPR?”

  A grin toys at his mouth. “Never mind that. I discovered I have a new gift, something no other Wolf possesses as far as I’m aware.”

  There’s the strangest expression on his face—a cross of amusement, mischief, and wanting.

  “And what’s that?” I ask, wary.

  He sets his hands on my hips and steps closer. “When a woman kisses me, all I have to do is think of the girl I’d rather have in my arms, and she’ll miraculously appear.”

  My stomach clenches, and I teeter ever so slightly on my heels. “Pretty words, Wolf.”

  “Are they working?” His thumb rubs a gentle circle over the thin fabric of my dress.

  “I haven’t decided.”

  There’s a strange sort of privacy in the dark, with us here, cloaked under my magic—like we’re separate from the world. It’s just Gray and me and the cool press of the night.

  “I like your dress.”

  Unable to hide my smile, I meet his eyes. “I wore it for you.”

  Hunger flashes across his face, and he pulls me a smidgen closer. “And your heels. I like those.”

  “I wore those for you too.”

  “What about your lips? Are they red for me?”

  I shake my head. “No, that was for Eric.”

  He gives me a dark laugh. “I think I’m experiencing lingering effects from our charisma experiment earlier. Eric is one of my best friends, but when I saw you dancing with him, I wanted to murder him on the spot.”

  “When I saw you kissing Bikini Girl Number Three, I wanted to light her on fire—obviously also a lingering effect of the charisma experiment.”

  Gray tugs me to him, pulling me against his chest. “Spoken like the daughter of a Dragon.” Then he cocks his head to the side, his smile becoming crooked. “Bikini Girl Number Three?”

  “I didn’t catch her name.” I study him, wanting him so badly it hurts. But I shift away. “I’m going inside now.”

  Disbelief flashes across his face, and his fingers tighten on my hips. With a wry smile, he lowers his voice and says, “I thought we were having some kind of revelation here.”

  “You mean when we decided we’re both suffering residual effects from practicing our charisma earlier? We were.”

  Liar. We both know there’s more to this than that.

  Feeling bold, I move my hands to Gray’s shoulders and use them as leverage to pull myself up until I’m almost eye level with him. “And we also revealed that you kissed another girl tonight, and therefore”—I just barely, barely brush my lips over his and then add a tiny bit of my charisma to my voice—“you won’t…be kissing…me.”

  With that, I pull away from him, taking my magic with me. For reasons unbeknownst to me, it fizzles as soon as we part.

  “Excellent control that time,” he calls to me, letting out a frustrated laugh. “But you’re a tease, princess.”

  “Goodnight, Gray.” With a wave of my hand, I saunter down the path, toward the resort’s front entrance, leaving him behind.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  My phone pings with a text on Sunday evening. The men are arguing about what we’re going to do for dinner, and I’m sitting on the couch, cross-legged, reading the ledger, learning all kinds of interesting facts. Apparently it’s against Royal Guild law to bait a gnome from its tree using powdered sugar, and you may only practice magic on a human if he or she owes you a life debt.

  I glance at the screen, half expecting it to be Finn. I need to talk to him, see what he says when he finds out we’re in Tahoe, but I’ve been avoiding it.

  However, it’s not Finn. And even though it’s an unknown number, I immediately know who it is.

  I have a location for you…Lexie.

  Biting my lip, I begin to type, needing a confirmation that it is, in fact, Rafe. Though I don’t know who else would know to contact me like that. Who is this?

  You know who it is.

  My stomach is a jumble of knots. I glance up at Gray and the guys, feeling like a traitor. I should tell Gray what Rafe said about Finn…I should tell Gray what Rafe said about him.

  Where’s he going to be? I text Rafe back, hoping he’ll just give me the pixie’s planned location and we can be done with it.

  I’ll tell you at dinner.

  I glance at Gray. He’s sitting on the other couch, idly watching the TV while Eric and Jonathan argue about food. The men went down to one of the casinos earlier and gave their money away at a poker table, but I’ve had a lazy day, entirely unproductive.

  Neither Jonathan or Eric have mentioned how I fled the club last night, thank goodness.

  I wasn’t aware we were having dinner, I text.

  Now you are.

  Just as I’m about to tell him the four of us will meet him, he adds, Alone.

  That sounds like a brilliant way to have yourself kidnapped. Does he think I’m an idiot?

  I’ve seen that movie, I respond. The blond always dies.

  We’ll meet somewhere nice and public.

  “Who are you talking to?” Jonathan asks out of the blue. I look up at him, probably looking as guilty as can be.

  “No one,” I say immediately.

  The three men give me suspicious looks, but I studiously ignore them.

  How do you expect me to get away without informing the team where I’m headed and who I’m meeting? I ask.

  Just tell them you have a date.

  I read the text, and then my eyes immediately fall on Gray. He’s watching me, his brows low and his expression nothing less than suspicious.

  “Okay, Madeline,” he says in a tone that means business. “What’s going on?”

  After several long moments, I exhale all at once. “Something happened last night before I came to the club.”

  Gray sits up a little straighter, and he narrows his eyes. “Something like what?”

  I set my phone aside, clasp my hands in my lap, and tell them everything.

  Gray listens, his face growing incredulous, and then morphing to murderous when I mention what was said about Finn. Once I’m finished, he says, sounding less than pleased, “You’re just telling us this
now?”

  “At least I’m telling you!” I exclaim. “Rafe wanted—”

  Gray holds up a hand, abruptly stopping me. “Rafe? Rafe what?”

  In the abridged version of my encounter, I accidentally left out the man’s name. Or maybe I did it on purpose.

  “It was Will something,” I say, trying to remember. “Williamson? No…Williams maybe?”

  “Wilhelm,” Gray supplies, his voice toneless and oddly knowing.

  Slowly, realizing he must be acquainted with Rafe, I nod. “I believe that’s it.”

  A blanket of silence falls over the room. Even Jonathan and Eric are oddly quiet.

  After several long, heavy seconds, in hopes of breaking the tension, I say, “So you…know him?”

  When Gray doesn’t answer, Jonathan sits on the couch next to me. “He was on our team until a few years ago, before Eric joined us.”

  “What happened?” I ask Jonathan, glancing at Gray.

  “We had a parting of ways,” Gray says cryptically, cutting Jonathan off before he can answer.

  And it suddenly hits me. “Rafe’s the Fox you knew. He’s the one you were talking about yesterday.”

  I know I’m right because Eric and Jonathan exchange a look.

  “Do you think he’s telling the truth?” I almost whisper. “Do you think Finn’s covering for Morris’s men because of a gambling debt?”

  Without a word, Gray places a hand over his face, looking weary. “I don’t know.”

  “The pixie’s name is Trent?” Jonathan says out of the blue, breaking the silence. He makes a face. “Trent the Pixie?”

  “There’s something else,” I say, ignoring Jonathan, hesitant to tell Gray the next part.

  He drops his hand and stares at me, his stormy eyes unsettling.

  “When Finn and I…” I trail off, not wanting to say “broke up.” I mean, we were officially together for less than a week. It’s a little ridiculous. So I begin again. “When Finn and I decided we shouldn’t be together, he admitted he wanted me on the team to keep an eye on you. He said you’d be furious when Morris was released—that you arrested him and felt his punishment should have been harsher. He was worried you’d cause trouble and get yourself in hot water with the Royal Guild.”