Consort of Thorns

by Eva Chase

  Me, I was sweating in my thin sundress. But it was only partly because of the heat. Telling Gabriel pretty much every secret I had and telling the other guys that my ordeal might not be over yet hadn’t been the most relaxing experience of my life. At least Gabriel hadn’t seemed too shocked. And I’d known my consorts would stand by me. The hard part was knowing how little they could do when even I wasn’t sure how to deal with my father.

  He’d be home any minute now. That was why I’d headed back. At least I had my best friend for company. Another benefit to her being an imaginary construct—the spunky heroine from my favorite book, a playfully steamy historical romance—was that she could turn up whenever and wherever I needed her.

  And sometimes when I really didn’t, too. I’d gotten so in the habit of picturing her during those lonely years in Portland that nowadays Philomena seemed to come and go by her own will. So it was a good thing I usually enjoyed her company.

  “I don’t know if you can call the other guys ‘suitors’ when they’ve already dedicated themselves to me,” I pointed out, kicking at a bit of gravel. It rattled across the road. “The consorting ceremony is more binding than any marriage you’ve ever agreed to.”

  “Point taken,” Phil said. She nudged me with her elbow. “Are you planning on doing any consorting with this new one?”

  She smirked at me, and I resisted the urge to stick out my tongue at her. I was going to be twenty-five in two months. I should probably get in the habit of acting like it.

  “I don’t know,” I said. “I didn’t even know for sure I could take more than one consort at the same time until we completed the ceremony last night. I suppose… if that worked, it should be possible to add another one.”

  “Mmhm?”

  I shot her a firm look. “Speaking on a theoretical level. Gabriel’s only just gotten back. I’ve got to get to know him again. He hardly knows me anymore. And after all the history between our families now…”

  Gabriel had said he didn’t blame me, and he’d sounded like he meant it, but the tragedy that had started with his father’s firing had obviously affected him a lot. He’d gone wandering all across two continents just to get away from this place. And now he was stuck crashing on Jin’s couch while he waited for me to figure out if I’d called him here for any good reason…

  I should have been able to offer him better than that.

  “Who knows if either of us would even want to?” I finished. “Or if the other guys would be okay with it? They’re my first priority.”

  “Hmm. Yes. Four husbands is rather a lot in itself.” Phil snuck a peek at me with her eyelids lowered coyly. “Although I’m sure it makes consummating that marriage so much more fun.”

  Damn, now I was blushing again. “Don’t start about that. I need to be composed right now. I don’t even know how I’m going to talk to my father.”

  Philomena’s cheer faded. “Yes. That is quite the conundrum. I certainly wouldn’t have put it past your stepmother to have been lying to save her skin, you know. I’ve never seen any reason to complain about your father other than his choice in second wife.”

  “Neither have I,” I said. “But he did choose her. And the wording in her contract did allow for him to call the shots as much as her. Why would she have included that if she was doing it behind his back?”

  “To displace blame if the contract were found?” Phil suggested. “She could clearly think plenty of steps ahead of the present.”

  “I know. I’ve got no idea what to think.” I rubbed my arms, suddenly chilled despite the heat. Even the sweet scent of fresh-grown grass and wildflowers drifting over the fields wasn’t enough to settle my nerves. “He’s always been there for me. Even when he made us move to the city, I could tell it was because he felt it was best for me. He felt like he’d failed me. I’m his only child.”

  And if what my stepmother had said was true, then he’d been willing to chain my magic up so I could only use it with the permission of the consort they had chosen. So I’d be in agony if I tried to use it for myself. And the consort they’d chosen, my supposed fiancé Derek, had cheated on me with one of the girls from the cleaning staff and spoken about me with such disdain… Not that he was aware I knew about that yet. I’d only gotten ahead of their scheme by keeping my cards close.

  How could Dad want such a horrible future for me?

  Celestine had been able to explain away that too. He does love you, in his own way. She’d said he hadn’t wanted to be a party to the actual binding of my magic, but that he’d felt he needed to see it done because of how much power I would wield once my spark was kindled.

  I looked down at my hands. The flame of my spark, still so brightly lit by my four consorts in spite of all the magic I’d expended last night confronting my stepmother, tingled through my chest. I had drawn a lot of power through these hands, from this body. But why should Dad be afraid of that? It wasn’t as if I’d ever shown any inclination to hurt people.

  Celestine’s words had poisoned all my thoughts about him. I needed to set her insinuations aside and make my own judgments from what I could see with my own eyes. In the meantime, no one except for my guys could know about the magic I already held. Most—or maybe all—of the witching people I knew wouldn’t even have believed I could have kindled my spark with the devotion of any unsparked man, let alone four of them.

  It was a beautiful little secret for now.

  “Can’t you simply confront him like you did your stepmother?” Philomena asked. “If he shows some maliciousness, you can treat him to the same response.”

  “If he really has been acting against me, he could pretend to be horrified and then call in a witching friend to subdue me somehow,” I said. “And even if he wasn’t a good enough actor for that, it’s not going to escape the Assembly’s notice if he disappears from public life and work too. They’ll come investigate me. What I did to Celestine wasn’t legal. Without proof of Dad’s treachery… it could be me who ends up facing retribution. I need proof, and I need to get it without tipping my hand to him, unless I decide I can trust him.”

  My pulse thumped faster as I came into view of the estate’s stone wall and caught sight of a car parked just beyond the tall wrought-iron gate. Porters were hustling from it to the big old manor house, one of them carrying Dad’s suitcase and another a large packing box. Dad had a habit of buying up local delicacies whenever he went on a business trip for our cooking staff to experiment with. “Bringing a little of the world back home to my family,” he liked to say.

  When I pushed past the gate, my heart flipped right over. He was standing there by the other side of the car, bending over to retrieve something from the back seat. I took a couple steps toward him, and then my legs locked.

  Dad straightened up and saw me immediately. His usual warm smile split his face. Nothing about him had changed. He had the same silver-flecked chestnut hair, the same gentle hazel eyes, the same square jaw as when he’d left.

  But when he’d left I’d been sure of who he was, and now I didn’t know how to be sure of much of anything. Even if he hadn’t been a party to my stepmother’s scheming, he might not be enthusiastic about my choice in consorts. After all, he’d had some hand in dismissing their parents so callously. I had to tread carefully, for my guys’ sakes as much as mine.

  I made myself walk forward to meet him. “Dad!”

  “My lamb, there you are.” He opened his arms for a hug, and I had to return it. I wrapped my arms around him just for a second. The familiar, soothing smell of his lemony aftershave washed over me, and my throat choked up. Suddenly I felt very old and very young all at the same time.

  The solid corner of something in his hand bumped my back. I glanced down as I pulled away. “What’s that?”

  Dad held up the case, well-worn wood with tarnished silver sealing the edges. “An artifact I picked up in my touring around Cairo. More of a curiosity than anything practical, but valuable enough that I didn’t want to leave i
t to the staff to handle.”

  He popped the clasp and opened the lid. Inside the case lay an object I could only describe as a wand, as long as my forearm and half as thick. It was made of a wood so dark I could barely make out the grain, polished to a soft shine. An intricate gold-plated design circled its body in rings all up its length, and gemstones gleamed where they were embedded in the spaces between: brilliant green emeralds and deep blue lapis lazuli.

  Despite myself, my breath caught with awe. “Wow. That’s beautiful.” And it had at least once been very powerful. The gold designs included witching glyphs for strength, energy, amplification, and aim. I curled my fingers where Dad couldn’t see, sending a testing feeler of my own power toward the wand. No answering magic responded.

  “Long since sapped of any spells it used to hold,” Dad said, confirming what I’d just sensed. “Too dangerous to keep in the house otherwise, I’d imagine. But it makes a remarkable souvenir as it is, don’t you think?”

  “Definitely.”

  He closed the case, tucked it under his arm, and glanced around. “Is your stepmother out?”

  Right. He’d have expected her to come out to meet him if she’d been here. My chest clenched for a second before I recovered my tongue. “I’m not sure. I haven’t seen her since last night.”

  “Lyle,” Dad called to the porter who’d just re-emerged from the house. “Is Lady Hallowell around?”

  The scrawny guy halted. “I can go ask after her, sir.”

  “Please do,” Dad said. He closed the car door, and one of our security guards crossed the yard to meet us.

  “Lady Hallowell hasn’t been on the premises today, Mr. Hallowell,” he said. “I’m the one who checked the security cam over the gate this morning. Her Jag pulled out around one in the morning. I assumed she had a trip, an early morning flight to catch.”

  Dad blinked, his forehead furrowing. He fished his phone out of his pocket, presumably to check to see if Celestine had left him any message about an unexpected trip. Of course, he didn’t find any. The spell I’d placed on her prevented her from communicating to or about him or me in any way.

  He tapped to dial her number and raised the phone to his ear with a frown. I wavered, watching him. If what Celestine had said was true, he’d been counting on her to see through my consorting, with all the additional twists she’d added. But how could I tell the difference between distress over losing his accomplice and the distress any man would show on discovering his wife and consort had vanished?

  She didn’t answer. He lowered his hand, his face so shadowed with confusion the sight sent an ache through my chest.

  I hadn’t wanted to handle Celestine’s crimes this way. I’d wanted to bring her and Derek to Dad, to reveal everything to him. But that would only have worked if he wasn’t a party to those crimes.

  “You didn’t expect her to leave?” I said, playing ignorant still. “She didn’t mention anything about catching a flight to me.”

  Dad shook his head. He started toward the house. “It’s very strange. Perhaps Meredith will know? What’s she busy with today?”

  The ache deepened. Spark help me, he didn’t even know that much. Normally our estate manager would have been busy with more projects than I could count, but Celestine had fired Meredith, the low-standing witch who’d looked after our property and my family since my father was a child, practically the moment he’d left. Because she’d seen me turning to the other woman for support, I had to think.

  I could tell Dad the truth about that. “She’s gone too. Celestine let her go the day after you left. She said Meredith wasn’t a good fit for the family anymore. I tried to talk to her, but it was already done—Meredith had left… Celestine didn’t want to discuss it further.”

  Dad halted at the base of the broad front steps and stared at me. “Why on earth would she do that? Did Meredith overstep somehow?”

  I clasped my hands in front of me. He did look honestly distressed about Meredith, at least. “I don’t know. Not that I saw. I mean, they never got along that well, but it all seemed the same as usual.”

  The furrow on Dad’s brow deepened. He pulled out his phone again, striding on into the house. Then he stopped. My former fiancé—who as far as he or Dad knew was still my fiancé—was ambling down the hall to meet us.

  Derek paused as he took in my father’s expression. Concern crossed his own face—a face I might have called softly handsome before I’d known what a lying snake of a man he was.

  “It’s good to have you back, Maxim,” he said. “Is everything all right?”

  He could probably guess. He’d been asking me where my stepmother had disappeared to just a few hours ago. Worried about how his co-conspirator’s disappearance might affect him, no doubt. I hoped he’d done plenty of squirming.

  He wasn’t talking to Dad as if my father were a fellow conspirator too, but then, I was standing here.

  “I’ve been informed that Celestine left the estate late last night,” Dad said, glancing around the hall as if it might offer some clue. “I don’t suppose she mentioned to you where she might have been going?”

  Derek held his stance steady, but a little of the color left his face. Oh, yes, let him be imagining how deep a shithole he might have gotten himself stuck in.

  “I’m afraid not,” he said.

  Dad rubbed a hand over his face. “All right,” he said. “I’m sure it’s nothing serious. I’ll sort it out.”

  No, you won’t, I thought, my fingers twisting tighter around each other. No one would ever know why Celestine had left until I let them.

  The thought brought a jab of uneasiness—and then a rising tickle of confidence. For the first time, I was the only one in this house with magic. Even if the two men in front of me didn’t know it, I held the power here now.

  Chapter Three

  Damon

  It’s kind of pathetic how easily you can fall back into old habits. A few days spent hanging out with the old group, and I found myself wandering from Jin’s house back through town next to the twins, crossing the town square with our shoes smacking the cobblestones, the mid-afternoon sun searing our heads. You’d almost have thought we were back to being friends. As if I wasn’t just tolerating their presence in Rose’s life because I had to.

  Because Lord knew if she’d be better off with me keeping her all to myself, I sure as hell would have.

  Everything with Rose was good, though. The high from last night, the intensity of that crazy ceremony, was still racing through my nerves, as if I had some kind of magic in me too. Maybe I did—a little of hers. I’d felt it when she’d sworn herself to me, when I’d sworn my love back to her.

  I loved her. I loved Rose Hallowell. And she loved me. I could put up with an awful lot, knowing that.

  Even Mr. Brainiac’s inane rambling.

  “I should have asked Gabriel if he ever checked out Whaley House,” Kyler was saying to his brother. “That’s in California—San Diego. From what I’ve heard it’s supposed to be the most haunted place in the country.”

  “Since when have you been researching hauntings?” Seth said, sounding about as bemused as that humorless guy ever got.

  “Oh, I don’t know, something caught my interest a few years back and I did a little reading.” Kyler shook his head dismissively, his light brown curls jostling together. Almost a year older than me, but sometimes he still sounded like that overeager kid he’d been all those years ago when we had actually been friends. “It could come in handy. If magic and witches are real, who’s to say ghosts aren’t?”

  “Hey,” Seth said, abruptly serious again. “You shouldn’t talk about that out here.” His gaze scanned the square. On a weekday at this time, there was no one around except a few tourists snapping pics of the big fountain in the middle. Kyler hadn’t even been that loud. Trust Seth to worry anyway.

  They weren’t really talking to me, were they? We’d fallen in together as we’d left, but maybe they were only tolerating my
presence too. It wasn’t as if we had a whole lot in common these days. Their parents had gotten through just fine after Rose’s stepmother had kicked them to the curb. They hadn’t had to watch their mom get beaten down just trying to support them.

  My dad? Fuck if I knew where he’d been for the last thirteen years. He started hooking up with some chick from the kitchen staff, ran off with her, and not a peep from him since. Lucky him. He missed getting fired by about ten months.

  Kyler lowered his voice even more. “It’s amazing that Rose managed to call to him all the way out in California, though, isn’t it?”

  I made a scoffing sound. “Yeah, real great work on his part, showing up after we’d already handled the problem.”

  Seth frowned at me. “She’ll have an even bigger problem if she can’t trust her dad either.”

  “So what? We’ll deal with it like we helped her with her stepmom. We’re her consorts. I don’t think being well-traveled has anything on that.” Even if those travels had possibly struck me with a tiny twinge of envy.

  Kyler dug his hands into the pockets of his khakis. “You know if he’d been here from the start, he’d be a consort too.”

  Of course I did. Of course he would have been. But the way Kyler said it, like an unshakeable statement of fact, set my teeth on edge. “Well, he wasn’t here, was he? And we were. That’s what’s important. He can’t just ride in on that fucking motorcycle”—of course, of course Gabriel also had to have the sweetest bike I’d ever seen—“and take over everything.”

  “I don’t know,” Kyler said. “I think what’s important is what Rose decides she wants.”

  I bit back a grimace. “I think what Rose wants is not to have to worry about any assholes trying to steal control over her magic.” My gaze caught on a stout figure hurrying past the shops around the edge of the square. “Speaking of assholes…”

  The other guys followed my glance. The barrel-chested man with the egg-shaped head and thinning white hair I’d indicated wasn’t anyone we’d have paid much attention to a month ago. He’d have just been Mr. Cortland, that old dude who lived on the outskirts of town. But he was one of Rose’s witching people. He’d been helping her stepmother figure out how to bend the consorting spell into a vicious trap. We’d broken into his house to get proof while he was out of town. Apparently he was back.