by Eden Butler
“Yeah, but…”
“No buts. You can’t stay there with no electricity and you can’t stay with Papa with a busted lip.” My head tilted, I crossed my arms. Bane would simply have to understand. “He’ll worry too much.”
“Fine,” Bane said, voice loud, exasperated. “We’ll take her back with us. Lennon can watch over her while we search for the Elam.”
“Fine,” I mimicked him, not liking him dolling out orders, but not willing to put Mai in a situation that was bad for her. “Then let’s go.”
I ignored his low oath of “Finally” and helped Mai up, not waiting for Bane to follow us out of the bar.
Chapter Six
There was light and dark in the world. There was light and dark in the lines and we were taught from an early age that they were like a raging fire—beautiful, magnetic, something of great, shuttering power, but also deadly, destructive.
I knew about pyros. I knew that the bend of one’s will to the siren call of the lines was sometimes more tempting than the heat of a blaze or the destruction one single flame can cause. But until I stood on Bane’s empty porch, watching the convergence of were packs, dens and regional covens flocking around the property I never knew just how naive I’d been. Even the din of their voices, their laughter, their arguing, did not register above that sweet, melodic hum of the lines. That siren song was strong that night, stronger than I’d ever heard it before.
The song was something out of a fairytale. There was light and melody, love and comfort coursing in those lines. There was truth and beauty and a dozen, a million truths I never knew I needed to know coursing between those hums. It was all that I was, all my folk would ever be and all of it—all that truth, all the answers—was a few hundred feet away. Batty had unlocked something inside of me, something more volatile than my nex; something that opened me up completely to the raw feel of that magic and the pulse it brought to the forest around us.
I wasn’t the only one to sense that great power. For weres, the raw song of lines unhindered by the Elam tempted them with the animalistic need to join, to meld with the earth and embrace their primal selves. For witches and wizards, the pull was not so subtle. My fingers itched to strip myself bare. My skin felt tight. My pores felt open. I wanted to be naked. I wanted to feel the vibration of the ley lines against my skin and bathe in the moonlight that fell brightest in the hollow of trees at the center of Bane’s property. I wanted to be free from the hindrance of civilized society.
And I wasn’t the only one.
Lennon kept fidgeting with his sleeves, rolling them up, untucking his shirt and casting eager glances toward the forest and the darkness that hid the lines. And when Mai walked along the river bank, shedding her light jacket, Lennon’s baser inclinations seemed to rise to the surface. His eyes followed my twin, watching her every movement like an animal prowling, and she seemed to eat up the attention, smiling, giving him some ridiculous come-hither smile that had me blinking.
The other guards, the cook, even Cari, who had insisted being at Bane’s home until we left for the search and that her younger brother, Ethan, be allowed to join us, seemed antsy, not herself. I didn’t care about her brother chaperoning, but found it verging on hysterical that the lines were making Miss Prim and Proper yank out the pins in her hair and run her fingers along Bane’s bare arms, near his waist. For his part, he seemed little disinclined to acknowledge her attention.
Bane seemed, in fact, very unaffected by the raw, pulsing heat the lines sent out into the forest. At least, that’s what I told myself. That’s exactly what I thought until Bane walked away from Cari and joined a group from the Oxford coven down on the grounds below. Each wizard kept their distance from each other, but still found it impossible to be still or keep their hands from their collars or the hems of their shirts. The witches, most of them, had tugged off their jackets and sweaters and walked among the dens and covens in nothing but their tank tops and jeans, despite the cooling October temperatures. It was the witches that caught my attention—particularly when two of them congregated toward a wolf pack from Jacksonville who seemed a little too eager to entertain them. I was considering the result of the missing amulet and wondering what would happen if there’d be a sudden rash of inter-species breeding and offspring when I felt a warm, intense stare watching me from the grounds.
Bane always had a way to pull my attention back to him. No one could scream at me with one slow gaze and have it be as clear as if he’s yelled my name into the open darkness. A slow turn of my head and I met his gaze, doing a little staring of my own. His eyes were tight, his bottom lip pressed hard against the top one. God, he was beautiful. Beautiful and compelling and so off limits that I almost felt guilty for just returning that intense stare.
Batty had woken up more than my nex. He’d reminded me of what I’d given up, of what I’d taken from Bane, and as the magnificent wizard stared up at me with his mouth relaxed and eyes scorching like a flame, I had to remind myself that what I had done had all been for the best. It had all been for the coven, for the Cove, for his own peace of mind.
Not able to stand his gaze for another moment, I turned away, giving him my back as I watched the lake on the other side of the forest. Closer to the water, the lines were less evident and I walked off the porch, eager to put some distance between myself and that sweet, haunting song. I wasn’t the only one with the same idea and I nodded at Lennon and several of Bane’s guards I didn’t know as I headed toward the bank.
The lake was calm, it barely moved at all and a small swarm of fireflies danced above the water. They’d be gone soon, taken by the fall, then the winter, and the lake would grow black and still until spring. But for now, I watched the insects zip through night, to skid along that water like there was no threat beneath; as though their lives were endless and nothing loomed on the horizon for any of us.
“It’s a little too quiet, don’t you think?”
Lennon seemed more relaxed now that Mai had disappeared back into the house, less formal than was his usual manner as he came to my side, joining me in my observation of the fireflies and their show skimming above the water. “The calm,” I told him, not sure why my voice came out slow, small.
The guard’s gaze was heavy, but nowhere near the intensity Bane seemed incapable of shooting my way every time he decided to gawk at me. Still, Lennon’s presence was a comfort I didn’t realize I needed until he was standing at my side. “You believe that's what this is?” In my peripheral vision I noticed his quick nod toward the water. “The calm before the storm? Something is headed our way?”
He couldn’t be serious. Maybe it was his inexperience with the Cove. Maybe it was because he’d spent so little time here that made him seem so naive. Still, he was a wizard. I assumed he’d have experienced his fair share of upheaval when magic slipped over onto the mortal world.
“We’re magical folk living amongst the mortals.” A quick glance in his direction, that quick head shake I didn’t seem able to stop and I stepped closer to the bank. “Something is always heading our way.”
Lennon considered me a moment longer than I’d expected. Sure, mine was a negative way of thinking of things, but it was based solely on the hurdles life had tossed in my way time and time again. It was just the way of things and I was surprised Lennon didn’t agree. He was from the UK and every magical creature knew the suffering mortals had put magical folk through over the centuries. Hell, it’s what caused the mass exodus to the new world. So Lennon’s overtly positive attitude was a bit curious.
He kept watching me, moving his gaze over my face as though he half expected I’d poke him in the ribs and tell him I was teasing. Instead, I kept my eyes forward, watching the lake as the wizard kept to himself. “That seems a sad way to look at things.” His voice was gentle, kind and bordered a little too near placation for my liking. “It makes the future seem hopeless.”
“Not hopeless.” Another shrug and I waved my hand, passing off his claim. “Inevitab
le if we remain in the shadows.”
Not seeming to like that response, Lennon stood in front of me, hands deep in his pockets and the most ridiculous, incredulous expression on his face. Those green eyes sparkled against the moonlight reflecting off the water. That deep wrinkle between his eyebrows set harder, it seemed, as though Lennon fought to question my seriousness. “You think we should make ourselves known?”
I didn’t pause to soften my response. I’d been repeating it for years because it was what I truly believed. “I think it would loosen some of our self-imposed shackles.”
“They’d revolt.” Lennon’s mouth worked like a guppy struggling for water and I thought I’d tell him he’d started to look fish-like, but that shock and worry was far too serious to be teased. “They’d try to overtake us, Miss Benoit. On the whole, there would truly be nothing but disaster.”
“Maybe.”
“Maybe…you’re serious?” He touched my arm, looking very shocked, looking like he was generally concerned for my mental health. “You can’t be serious.”
“Oh, she is,” Bane said, coming up behind me. One glare at Lennon’s hand on my arm and the guard stepped back. “It’s the same assertions her brother has made for decades. Jani’s only repeating what she’s heard her whole life.”
“Doesn’t mean it isn’t true,” I told him, narrowing my eyes when he laughed. I glared at Bane, but that didn’t lessen the smile on his face. I hated being written off as some dutiful sister not capable of thinking for herself. My brother’s opinion might not be popular, but I truly believe he was right. I didn’t need Bane being condescending to me because he didn’t agree.
“No, I suppose it doesn’t.” He rubbed the back of his neck, nodding as though seeing at least some of my point, but then quickly dropped the argument before it lead to something heated. “Right now, though, we have more pressing issues than whether or not we should jump on broomsticks and fly across the moon for the mortals to see.”
Bane turned back, nodded toward the clearing beyond the house where several more den and covens had arrived and were greeting each other. “They’ve all arrived?” Two shifters immediately transformed as they came closer toward the lines hidden deep in the forest, and I grinned at their enthusiasm.
“All but Birmingham.” Bane’s face was relaxed, a little pleased but then he faced me again and that ease stiffened until his features became tight. “They’ll be here in a couple of hours and then we can leave.”
“I’ll see that the supplies are arranged.” Lennon said, reminding me that he hadn’t left us as he excused himself.
A small breeze picked up against the water and I closed my eyes, trying to push back the sensation of longing I felt when Bane’s scent lingered in the air. Did the lines push us together or some other mystical force draw us closer despite the expectations laid at both our feet? I had no clue where that inclination came from, didn’t much care, if I was being honest. But out here under the bright moon, with the lines humming behind us and Bane standing close enough that I could feel the heat of his body, nearly feeling the whisper of his breath on the back of my neck, that closeness felt like a weight I thought I’d dropped years ago.
It never left you, the lines sang, and in my mind I imagined that tone was a bit smug.
Still, it wasn’t wrong. But it was pointless. The truth was useless when reality serves up a generous helping of impossibility. Which made Bane’s closeness and that gravitational pull of him almost impossible to ignore.
At my side, the wizard kept his attention on the sky and, possibly, on that quick, steady buzz of magic pulsing from the lines. Bane closed his eyes, tilting back his head to give his face to the moon as though the beams of light warmed his skin. He was so ruggedly beautiful, so impossible to resist that I had to remind myself we weren’t alone, the others would likely notice if I stood there staring at him helplessly for so long. But before I brought my attention away from those sharp features and the subtle, soft hint of stubble along his jaw, Bane grinned, a slow, amused twitch of his mouth and then he glanced at me as though he found it the height of funny to catch me gawking.
“Your eyes are telling secrets, Jani.”
“Hardly,” I tried forcing an eye roll I didn’t mean. Bane wasn’t buying it. He didn’t seem overly concerned that the others stood some distance from us or that Cari or her bored brother were likely spying on us. Bane, in fact, somehow stood closer, arms crossed so that his elbow brushed against my bicep.
“It doesn’t mean anything, you know.”
“What doesn’t?” My question came out too quickly, the words too clipped as he inched closer. He liked to torture me, I knew that, but I’d never seen him enjoy dolling at that torture so openly.
“The attraction you feel.” Bane shot his thumb over his shoulder. “The lines, the raw feel of them—without the Elam they aren’t buffered and we are all feeling it.” He nodded grinning as two witches snuck off into the forest alone. “It’s in our nature, Jani. The lines unhindered, raw, they just bring it from us.” He’d drank whiskey from a canteen he edged out of his pocket. The rich hint of it came off his breath when he stepped closer. It made my fingers shake. Bane was easily five inches taller than me and as he crowded closer, he used that height to his advantage with his breath fanning over the top of my head and his chest touching my back. “They’ll only get stronger.” It wasn’t anything I hadn’t already guessed, but that claim coming from him, with that air of seduction in his tone, made me realize, finally, what that might mean. Uninhibited magic influencing every magical creature; no voice of reason to temper our behavior should we get too close. God help me, I’d cave, and from how eager Bane was to get close to me, I had a feeling that’s exactly what he wanted.
“What is it about you, Jani?”
He’d said my name like that once, right after he’d confessed he wasn’t sure what I wanted. But one look, one real, honest examination of my expression and Bane had guessed. I wanted him, and my name falling from his mouth in that throaty, eager whisper was all it had taken to unravel my hesitation.
My fingers rubbing against my eyelids, another breath against the top of my head and the sweet, warm bourbon scent brought my awareness away from the never-dimming desire to kiss him. He was twisting magic, working me over on purpose. Bane let the lines take him over, just a bit. His control was waning as he moved his fingers through the ends of my hair.
“You’re more open out here, this close to the lines, aren’t you?”
“We all are,” I told him, curling my arms around my waist like I could really protect myself from him.
“They’ll get stronger,” he said, taking one wavy strand of hair off my shoulder to curl around his finger. “They’ll get stronger and you’ll want to lose control.”
Eyes closed tight, I saw what that loss of control would look like. Something erotic and inappropriate involving that large wizard behind me and lots and lots of fallen red maple leaves sticking to our naked skin.
I blinked, stepped out of his reach to block that imaginary scenario. “That is not going to happen.”
“Why not?” he asked, moving in front of me, keeping me from retreating further away from him.
I arched an eyebrow and smiled. “Why do you think, Mr. Iles?”
His shoulders fell and the tension crowded around his features again when my small words pushed reality right back into his mind. One low grunt and Bane turned his head, attention back on the crowd in the clearing. “You know how to ruin a moment, don’t you?”
“Was that a moment?” I teased, trying not to laugh when Bane started working his jaw.
His gaze flashed back at me and some of that irritation lessened the severity of his expression. “Could have been.”
Sometimes Bane let a little emotion—real emotion that has nothing to do with teasing or trying to bait me into a reaction—pass in his eyes. I saw it just then. It was sincerity, maybe a little longing, but I couldn’t stop and give it much weight. How c
ould I when that would lead to nothing but disappointment?
I cleared my throat, bringing my eyes down to the ground where I kicked a rock with the tip of my boot. “I don’t think your fiancé would have appreciated any moments you might have wanted with me.”
“Probably not,” he said and the humor in his voice was forced, as though he’d noticed the real emotion had snuck in for a moment and he needed to tamp it down quickly. Bane put back on that dominant, in-control mask and moved his head, trying to catch my eye. “But that doesn’t mean they won’t happen anyway.”
“That’s a little selfish of you, don’t you think?” When he squinted at me as though he were confused, I clarified. “You engaging with moments not reserved for the witch you’re supposed to marry.”
“Maybe, but you know, Miss Benoit, I’m not married yet.” He stepped even closer, bringing my hair back between his fingers. “And when the right moments come, I generally don’t care who they’re with.”
It was a lie, one that I saw clearly through his arrogant demeanor. But Bane walked away from me then, looking back only once as though he wanted me to see the promise in his expression with the low glance of his eyes over my body and that thick bottom lips between his teeth. That expression, that promise he gave, was a challenge he wanted me to take. But as he climbed back up the hill and greeted several of members of the Birmingham coven, I knew the challenge would be unmatched. Just like us, it’d be the game I’d refuse to play with him.
“Here,” Mai said, handing me the bag she’d packed while I grabbed several bottles of cold water from the refrigerator. Outside, dozens of weres—wolves ravens, panthers and eagles among them—as well as a handful of skilled witches and wizards organized into groups of five, followed Bane’s command as he pointed out markers among the vast acres of his coven’s property.
My twin stood next to me, shoving the pack over my shoulders and we both watched the activity through the large window in the kitchen.
