Life goes on, I told myself, and at least you are alive.
* * *
Somehow, I managed to take a nap. When I woke, the scent of baking bread filled the house, and my stomach gave a pitiful little growl. A good sign, I decided.
Knowing I couldn’t avoid Evan forever, I slipped from bed, ran a brush through my hair, brushed my teeth, and headed out the door. I was in a second floor hallway, lined with closed doors that probably led to other bedrooms, but I didn’t take the time to explore. Instead, I found the long, curved staircase that would take me to the first floor and to that delicious smell.
Evan wasn’t in his den, but I found him by following my nose, passing through several unfurnished rooms that I supposed would become a formal living and dining room, before reaching the kitchen. Evan flashed me a quick greeting as he pulled a sheet of rolls from the oven, and slid them into a napkin-lined wicker basket.
“How do you feel?” he asked.
“I’m-” I stopped, because I suddenly saw, there in the breakfast nook, something that forcibly reminded me of Nicolas’s proclamation: The table was set for two, lit only by romantic candlelight cast by two flickering white candles. A vase of red roses stood proudly off to the side.
Evan followed the direction of my gaze. “Dinner is almost ready. You can have a seat.”
Mutely, I moved to one of the two chairs. What was it my father had said the other day? If Evan decides he wants her, how would she even resist? I might have tried to pretend or explain away the signs before, but now I knew for certain: He did want me. The debt only made it a hundred times worse.
“Did you make the calls you needed to make?” Evan asked.
“Yes.” I set his phone down on the table. “Kaitlin only has a one-bedroom place now, but she still insists I stay with her. She says we can spend the next month looking for someplace else to stay.”
“Did you call your brother?” Evan asked.
“Yes.”
“And?” Evan set the basket of rolls in the middle of the table, then pulled two salads out of the refrigerator, setting one in front of me before taking his own seat.
“You mean he didn’t come by and try to burn your house down?” I tried to make the question sound light.
“Not yet. I thought maybe he’d be glad I managed to save you.”
A wave of shame washed over me, and I busied myself buttering a roll so he wouldn’t see.
“When I gave you the stone,” Evan said, “I wasn’t sure you’d use it.”
“Thank you. For the stone and for, you know, saving me.” Debt or no debt, I was glad to be alive.
“You’re welcome.”
We ate without speaking for a few minutes. When he cleared away the salad plates and replaced them with dishes of pasta, he broke the silence. “You’re not usually so quiet.”
I wasn’t. I usually tried to fill uncomfortable silences. “A lot has happened to me lately. Maybe it’s all finally catching up with me.”
“Cassie,” Evan said, reaching across the table to lay his warm hand on mine, “You know I’d never hurt you.”
“Yes.”
“What did Nicolas say?” Evan asked.
“Oh, you know, he was worried, he’s glad I’m alive, that sort of thing.”
Evan arched an eyebrow. “And?”
I closed my eyes. “He said you own me.”
“Oh.”
“It’s true, isn’t it?” I opened my eyes a crack, but his face was a mask.
“I wouldn’t have put it that way.”
“How would you have put it?”
His mask remained firmly in place, but he played with his pasta. “There is an easy way to void the debt. Not only that, but it would keep you protected.”
I looked at the red roses, and instantly understood. He was talking about marriage. That kind of family bond made magical debt irrelevant.
“I don’t need protection,” I said, hoping to steer the conversation away from the more dangerous path.
“Your parents disowned you. They may have claimed to offer you protection, but if they’re serious about cutting you out, they can’t.”
I had already worked that much out, not that I wanted their help. “There’s my Uncle John-”
“Interesting thing about your uncle,” Evan said. “I went to see him a couple of days ago, just to feel him out. He is of the opinion that the best way to protect you would be to marry you off to a powerful local sorcerer.”
“What?”
“Don’t worry, he won’t step aside for just anyone. They have to promise to treat you well, and they have to have enough money. He didn’t think I was a good candidate, though, despite my money.”
My face drained of color. “That’s insane.” I couldn’t even imagine why any of the local sorcerers would want to marry me, but I didn’t ask.
“Your brother will probably give protecting you a good try, but he’s young, and still not fully trained.”
I nodded, acknowledging the truth of that. “So what are you saying? I’m in danger and there’s nothing I can do about it?”
“No, that’s not what I’m saying. You’re under my protection.”
“I can’t be under your protection. I already owe you more than I can possibly repay.”
He reached across the table, and put his warm hand over mine, stroking gently. His eyes bore into mine, and I felt oddly captivated by them.
“So marry me,” he said.
I froze, every cell in my body seeming to react at once. My fingers and toes tingled, my heart thudded painfully, my guts twisted, and my head spun. I couldn’t breathe. My lungs began to burn painfully, but I couldn’t take in any air.
I had to tell him no. I had to tell him that the other day, when I’d flung myself at him, had been a mistake. I’d just been upset and hadn’t meant to imply anything between us. I couldn’t be with him. I couldn’t be with a sorcerer. How would I survive in a relationship like that, always the lesser partner?
No, my mind screamed. No! The answer is no!
I sucked in air, opened my mouth, and said, “Yeah, okay.”
“You look a little off,” Evan said. “Do you need to go back to bed?”
Somehow, I didn’t think sleep would fix a thing this time. I kept trying to open my mouth to speak, to refute the words that had, despite my best efforts, emerged from my mouth, but nothing happened.
“Cassie?” Evan was by my side in the next instant, his hand on my forehead, as if checking for fever.
Nonononononononono!
“Let’s get you back upstairs.” Evan pulled back my chair and effortlessly swung me into his arms. I didn’t protest. I couldn’t protest.
So marry me, he had said. And I, bound by magic beyond my control, could say nothing but yes.
I stared at his chest as he carried me up the stairs, unwilling to look him in the eyes and see what the rest of my life was going to become. I continued to refuse to meet his eyes until he laid me back in bed–his bed, I felt certain–and made the demand.
“Look at me,” he said.
I looked.
“Where does it hurt?” he asked.
He didn’t get it. He thought I was having some kind of relapse. It wasn’t funny, but I laughed.
“Cassie?” Evan said.
Gradually, my body began to relax, until I no longer felt quite so strongly that I was going to explode. It took me a minute to figure out why, until I realized I was no longer trying to tell him no, to deny his will. As long as I didn’t try to mention my feelings about the marriage, it seemed, I could say what I wanted.
“Cassie, please, tell me what’s wrong.”
“You wouldn’t put it quite like that?” I said.
“What are you talking about?”
“You own me, but you said you wouldn’t put it quite like that.”
He took a step back, away from the bed. “No, I wouldn’t.”
“Then tell me to jump on one leg. Go ahead, I dare you. Or...or
jump out the window.”
I saw the moment understanding struck him. He took another step backward, and his face hardened, betraying nothing.
“You don’t want to marry me.”
I didn’t even try to answer, though still, my head spun.
“Why not?” From the tone of his voice, he might have been asking me why my favorite color wasn’t green.
My head spun a bit more, and my stomach began to feel dangerously as if it wanted to eject dinner.
“You don’t have to marry me if you don’t want to,” Evan said, finally.
The nausea eased. My head stopped spinning, and I took a deep, steadying breath. I would like to have said I felt relieved, but didn’t, not even a little bit. I had felt what he could do, and that was something I would never forget.
“Why not?” he asked again.
“Why do you think?”
“I spoke carelessly,” he said. “I didn’t realize how powerful the compulsion would be.”
“It doesn’t matter. I’m done with it. The whole thing. Your whole world. I’m done.” I rolled over and shoved my face in a pillow.
“You think you can just walk away?”
I nodded against the pillow, thinking once again of that move to Chicago. I couldn’t marry Braden, of course, but maybe I could take that job lead.
“You can’t just walk away. You have the Scot name without the protection. Your Uncle John has had a few offers already, from people who would love the alliance. Not to mention-”
When he didn’t finish his thought, I prompted him. “What?”
“Never mind. Look, Cassie, you’re on your own, without any money or a place of your own to stay. I can take care of you.”
It was exactly the wrong thing to say. Gritting my teeth, I said, “I don’t want to be taken care of.”
“I didn’t mean it like that,” Evan said.
Yes, he had. He had meant it exactly like that.
“I’d like to move in with Kaitlin tomorrow.”
He took so long to answer that I almost thought he had left the room. I risked a peak from beneath the pillow, and saw his expressionless face, his defenses set against the world.
“Fine, you can move in with her, but I’m setting wards around the place.”
“I think I owe you enough, don’t I?”
“So much, this will barely make a dent.” He began to stalk from the room, but paused in the doorway, turning to face me. “For the record, I’m not giving up on you.”
I wasn’t sure I liked the sound of that, but I had no idea what to say.
He stalked through the door, but I distinctly heard him say, in a muttering voice, “You do, at least, owe me a chance.”
Epilogue
EVAN BLACKWOOD SAT ON THE steps outside Kaitlin Meyer’s new second floor apartment, having just finished laying the wards he insisted be in place before Cassie could move in. He felt exhausted. Not drained, as he had been a few days before, but certainly more tired than he should have felt. He hadn’t slept in two days, ever since he and Cassie had argued, but he still didn’t know if he felt angrier at her or at himself.
Maybe he had moved too fast or pushed too hard, but she had seemed willing enough when she’d flung herself at him the week before. Nothing had worked like he had planned it, but in that moment, he thought it might all be much, much easier. Then again, he’d thought they’d had a silent understanding for years, but then she’d said things were “serious” with Braden.
Now, here he was, trying to protect her from a distance, with wards built on a flimsy temporary threshold, and she didn’t even understand the danger she was in. Her parents should have told her. Arguably, he should have told her, when he’d realized she didn’t know, but she was already afraid of him.
As if that wasn’t bad enough, her brother, Nicolas, had been one spark away from setting the building on fire. That kid needed someone like Henry Wolf to take him in hand, even more than Evan had. He would have loved to hate Nicolas, especially since Nicolas hated him, but he had too much respect for loyalty. It reminded him of why he had always wanted a brother or sister.
Evan was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t notice anyone emerge from Kaitlin’s apartment. When the person tapped him on the shoulder, his first thought was of Nicolas, and he lashed out, instinctively, the potentially lethal force he manipulated as easily as air through his lungs throwing the intruder to the ground.
The high, feminine shriek alerted him to his mistake, and when he turned, he didn’t see Nicolas pinned to the hallway floor, but Madison. Cursing inwardly, and wondering if the day would get any worse, he let her up.
“Are you okay?” Evan asked.
Madison took a deep, shaky breath, and nodded once, sharply.
“If you ever decide to talk to me again,” Evan said, guessing she probably wouldn’t, “you should remember that sneaking up on me is a bad idea.”
She nodded again, scooting across the carpet to lean against the wall.
“I thought you were Nicolas.” Evan didn’t know why he felt the need to continue explaining. He would have liked to have one of Cassie’s friends or relatives on his side, but Madison seemed the least likely prospect. “So, what did you want?”
“Just...” She glanced back at the doorway to apartment #4, where she had been helping Cassie unpack the boxes of clothes her brother had brought. “I was wrong about you. I’m not sure why everyone’s mad at you, but I thought I’d tell you at least one of us is glad you saved her.”
“Thanks.” Now that he had the support of one of her friends, he didn’t know what to do with it, but he appreciated it, anyway. What was it Cassie had said about her? She was lonely, and didn’t trust easily. Evan could have described himself the same way, so he understood the effort she was making.
“I was also going to say you’re not half as scary as everyone thinks, but then I changed my mind.” To his surprise, she was smiling.
“It’s safer that way,” Evan said, returning the smile.
“Probably.” Madison suddenly sobered, and she looked down at her hands. “But not for Cassie. I’m guessing she already knows better than to sneak up on you, and besides, you’re in love with her.”
Evan didn’t confirm or deny the charge, because he wasn’t ready for Cassie to hear it yet. Coming on the heels of everything else he had said to her, he thought adding that revelation would drive her further away from him.
The trouble was, her fears weren’t entirely groundless. The life debt she owed him made it impossible for her to refuse anything he asked of her, and difficult for her to refuse anything she knew he wanted, whether he asked for it or not. All of which left him wondering, far more than whether or not she would fall in love with him, how he would know if it was real.
To complicate matters, there were greater threats out there than she realized, and the best way he knew to protect her was to stake his claim. She didn’t know it yet, but he had done far more than ward her new apartment. He had warded her; he only hoped she never had cause to find out.
The door to #4 opened again, and this time Nicolas did appear in the hallway, though Evan did not react.
“We need to talk.” Nicolas shot a meaningful look at Madison, who leaped to her feet and hurried back inside the apartment.
“What?” Evan asked.
Nicolas took a few steps closer, and lowered his voice, though his words were no softer. “I want to buy her debt.”
Evan gaped at him, understanding the words, but unable to believe he was hearing them. “Are you crazy? Do you have any idea what I could do to you?”
“Yes, which is why I don’t want you to have that kind of power over Cassie.”
Evan revised his opinion of Nicolas to loyal, but stupid.
“No,” Evan said.
“Look.” Nicolas lowered his voice further. “I can offer an equivalent service. I can pay it off.”
“Oh?” Evan was interested, despite himself.
“I can g
ive you access to a true healer, anytime you need it. It could save your life.”
Evan had suspected Cassie had a healer in her family, after the way she had healed from her attack in the swimming pool. And there was no question that it was a tempting offer, one that made Evan realize he had underestimated Nicolas’s intelligence.
“It might not be a good idea,” Evan said, half to himself. “Cassie’s debt puts her under my protection, and she needs that right now.”
“She’s under my protection,” Nicolas said, in an arrogant manner that highlighted his youth.
“What are you going to do? Half the single men in town are about to realize she doesn’t have her parents to protect her any longer, and decide she’d be a great marriage prospect, whether she’s willing or not.”
Nicolas’s face turned red. “That’s ridiculous. She’s a throwback.”
Evan cringed inwardly at the offensive term, but barreled on. “If you say so, but I’ve never heard of a throwback in a family like yours, and there are rumors going around that might put her in danger.”
“What kind of rumors?” Nicolas asked.
“That she’s repressed, burnt out, or drained.” Evan didn’t expand further. There was no need. They both knew the value some men would put on a potentially powerful young woman with no active magic–that of a wife who could not threaten their own power but who could, nevertheless, help produce strong children.
“That’s not true,” Nicolas said. “Is that what you think? Is that what you want?”
“No.” Evan practically growled the word. Although actually, he had toyed with the possibility that she might be burnt out, he couldn’t imagine any scenario that would have left her drained or repressed, not in a family like hers. “Not that it matters. Even as a...throwback...she’s got value. Odds are still good she’ll breed true, and it’s a hell of a lot more respectable than buying a drained woman off the slave market. Plus, let’s not forget, she has access to many of your secrets. Such as, apparently, a healer in your family.”
“I can protect her,” Nicolas said. “And so can my parents. The disownment was in name only.”
Cassie Scot: ParaNormal Detective Page 26
