Consort of Thorns

by Eva Chase

  “I really think putting this together will help me deal. Wipe all that pain out of my mind. Let me start over with a clean slate.”

  “Well, I suppose I could start getting in touch with people… And at least you would have some company. It might take some pressure off, early on.”

  My smile faltered. “What do you mean?”

  “I’m arranging with Killian for him to come by for an initial visit this weekend,” Dad said. “If all goes well, that’ll be your first meeting with the man you’ll marry.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Jin

  “It should be fine,” Rose said, but from the set of her mouth, she was trying to convince herself as much as me. “It’s not as if he’s going to throw me into a consort ceremony with some new guy the second he sets foot on the estate. It doesn’t have to affect our plan at all.”

  She was perched on a stool in my studio, ankles hooked around the wooden legs as she sketched the light impression of one of her magical glyphs on a square of wood about the size of her palm. I was holding and painting another of those squares, the plastic-y tang of acrylics in my nose. Not my favorite medium, but we needed something that would dry quickly. The brush whispered over the faintly textured surface, tracing the lines of the glyph and blending them into the broader pattern of colors.

  “Could he force it on you?” I asked. “If it’s even possible for you to take another consort now.”

  “I don’t know.” She frowned at her drawing. “If he’s got the power of the Assembly behind him… I don’t know what anyone’s capable of anymore. I thought it was just my stepmother and some twisted sense of jealousy. But it goes so much deeper…”

  “Hey.” I finished one last brushstroke and set the piece down in the trough of my easel. With a swipe of my hands against my painting jeans, I went to Rose’s side and slid my arm around her. “We’re getting everything in place. They have no idea how deep your powers go now that you’re awake, Briar Rose.”

  She twirled the pencil between her fingers. “If this even works.”

  “Well, I can’t comment on that, since I’m not the one with decades of magical study behind me. But you are.”

  “I just never learned how to use my magic but keep it hidden at the same time.” She dragged in a breath and recovered her smile, even if it was a small one. Tipping back her head, she gave me a quick kiss. “How’s the painting coming along?”

  I showed her the fifth one, which I’d just finished. She hummed approvingly. “It’s perfect. You can’t make out the glyph at all. But it’ll still hold a magicking like my pendant.”

  “And these are just meant to amplify the main attraction?” I said.

  She nodded. “I can put these around the table—I’m thinking as coasters under the vases. I won’t put any magic in them yet. If the larger spell doesn’t have as much impact as I intended, I can call on those to enhance it without having to do a casting overt enough to be noticed.”

  “And then you cow all those assholes who were trying to put you in your place.”

  She laughed, a little roughly. “Or I get us all killed. I know the situation is what it is and I have to make the best of it, but it seems so unfair sometimes, you know? They’ve done so much wrong, but if I make one small slip any of the gazillion places I could misstep, I’ll get all the blame. Just for trying to own my life.”

  “There are always people trying to squash those who are more powerful than them,” I said. “Out of fear or jealousy… I saw enough history traveling around with my dad to have figured that out. You’re part of a grand tradition.”

  “Lucky me,” she said, but I saw a glint of genuine amusement in her eyes. She added one final touch to her drawing and handed the wooden square to me. “What were your favorite places overseas? What made a city—or some other place—a Jin kind of spot?”

  I heard the plea underneath the question. Take me away from this town, just for a few minutes. My throat tightened. I’d imagined having Rose here in my studio, lighting up inspiration inside me, but I’d hoped the first time would be a happier occasion.

  That was all I’d ever wanted, wasn’t it? For her to be happy. To bring happiness to her while the other guys carried on all doom and gloom. But maybe they’d been what she actually needed right now. Reveling in her power didn’t do her any good if it was going to get her killed.

  So I was doing the best I could now. Contributing something concrete, something to help her survive. I could focus on ways to light up her life after we were sure of her keeping that life.

  “It’s hard to pick,” I said, picking up my paintbrush again as I thought about my tour across Europe and Asia with Dad and the band he’d been subbing for. “Sometimes it felt as if every place I went changed me a little, made me want different things. I don’t know how many I could go back to and still feel the same way. But where I had the most fun at the time… Probably Berlin and Shanghai.”

  “Interesting combination,” Rose said.

  I chuckled. “I’m not sure I’d want to do them back to back. But they’re both so vibrant, so much energy and so much enthusiasm, in the architecture and the events and the people. I’m not going to lie: As much as I enjoy checking out some history, it’s the modern cities that really get my engine going. Present and future over the past.”

  “All right.” Rose’s lips curled into a sly grin. “Tell me your craziest story from each.”

  My eyebrows leapt up. I swirled paint over the wood, thinking back. Probably best to edit out the bits that had involved other girls. Rose knew I’d gotten around, but there was no need to rub it in.

  “Hard to pick,” I said. “There was a lot of craziness. In Berlin… There was this one club I went to, in the middle of the dancing they turned on black lights and handed out neon paint, and we all just threw it at the walls, the floor, each other.” I grinned at the memory. “And then we danced some more, smearing it around, just this vast sea of glowing chaos. That was pretty epic.”

  “Wow.” Rose’s expression had gone distant and dreamy. “I’d have liked to see that.”

  “Maybe we’ll go find that place again sometime,” I said, and she turned those dreamy eyes on me. The affection on her face sent a flicker of warmth and a strange ache through me at the same time.

  I was giving her a temporary escape. She’d turned to me for that. But it wasn’t enough. I wished I could paint her way right out of this situation, into a world where she could really live with her magic, with people who wouldn’t care how she’d gotten it.

  Since I couldn’t, I rambled on about other adventures as I finished the last few paintings. Rose asked a few questions here and there, but mostly she just listened and sketched her glyphs. When I’d set down the final one, she came over to the easel and wrapped her arms around me, ducking her head against my shoulder.

  “Thank you,” she said. I didn’t think she meant just the paintings. The ache in my chest grew.

  Someday she’d have more to thank me for.

  I traced my fingers along her jaw and leaned in for a kiss. Rose kissed me back with an eager murmur that sent an ache to completely different parts of my body. Damn, the hunger this woman stirred in me. What I’d be thankful for was a day when I could have her in my bed every night and every morning. If the other guys joined us, that would be fine too. As long as I had her.

  “You’re going to need all the magic you can possibly get for this weekend, right?” I said teasingly, my hands coming to rest on her waist.

  A giggle escaped her. “What could you possibly be suggesting, Mr. Lyang?”

  “Well, that last piece is going to take at least a half hour to dry. We might as well spend that time… productively.” I eased my fingers up under her shirt.

  She swayed into my touch, kissing me again, harder as I reached her breasts. Then she pulled back from me with a hitch of breath. Her hand rose to my cheek.

  “You know being with you is about so much more than that, don’t you?” sh
e said, searching my eyes. “I’ve got so much magic in me I don’t know how I’ll ever use it all. I just want you. I love how you make me feel. I love being with you. I don’t want you, or any of the guys, to ever think—”

  “Hey.” I nuzzled the side of her face. “I know. You don’t have to say it. Believe me, the last thing I feel is used.”

  When we returned from my bedroom flushed and temporarily sated, I checked the paintings and stacked them in a small box. Rose stole one last kiss before we headed down to the car she’d brought outside.

  The afternoon was getting late. Our shadows stretched long across the sidewalk. A few other boxes with supplies for her dad’s party were already stacked in the car’s back seat. I added mine to the lot.

  “You’re not worried about your estate manager seeing them?” I asked, brushing my hands together.

  Rose shook her head. “There’s nothing to see until I work the magic on them. I guess I’d better head back.”

  “Yeah,” I said, fighting the urge to touch her again, even briefly. Out here on the street, even with whatever magical precautions she’d taken, it didn’t feel safe.

  Especially not when a slightly scruffy looking old man was striding down the street toward us, already glaring… at me?

  No, at Rose. His eyes narrowed further as he came up on us. I’d seen him before, hadn’t I? At the town museum that one time. He’d left the archive room right when we’d come down to meet Rose. He’d looked pretty grouchy then too, but I’d assumed it was because of the room getting crowded. Maybe not.

  He stopped on the sidewalk near us. “What are you doing out here again?” he demanded. “Don’t you have enough to keep you busy out there in your fancy estate?”

  Rose gave him a quick, tight smile. “There are a lot of things in town I can’t get at the manor,” she said, keeping her voice gentle.

  The old man huffed as if she’d insulted him. “Well maybe you should see about changing that. We don’t need your types intruding on this place. It belongs to us, not you.”

  I thought I saw Rose suppress a wince. “I’m sorry you feel that way.”

  My hands clenched. She was trying to diffuse the situation, keep everyone happy—and another time, maybe I’d have joined in. But this jerk didn’t deserve to be coddled at her expense, when she had so much else weighing on her. A sharper anger than I’d ever felt before flared inside me.

  “A lot of us feel that way,” the man started in again.

  “That’s enough,” I said, stepping forward so he had to back up, away from Rose. His gaze shifted to me, his face flushing. I barreled on before he could try to say anything. “You don’t know this woman at all. I do. And I promise you this town is better for every minute she’s in it. From the way you’re ranting, I don’t think anyone could say the same about you.”

  The old man sputtered, but my words seemed to have deflated his bravado. His shoulders hunched. “I was just saying my piece,” he muttered, and hurried away.

  When I turned back to Rose, she blinked at me. “Wow,” she said. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a fierce Jin before. Not that I mind.”

  My face heated a little, but inside I felt more sure, more settled, than I had in days. “I guess I’m trying out lots of new approaches these days,” I said with a wink. And then, more seriously, “I mean it, you know. I’m better, every moment you’re in my life. I want to be everything I can be for you.”

  Even though we were standing there in the middle of the sidewalk, Rose reached out and grasped my hand, just for a second. Emotion shimmered in her eyes. “You’re already everything I could ask for, Jin,” she said softly.

  I might have done just about anything then. Might even, while there was no one else in sight, have dared to lean in for another kiss. But Rose’s phone buzzed in her pocket. Her brow knit as she pulled it out. When she saw the message on the screen, any remaining flush drained from her face.

  “I’ve got to get back to the house,” she said. “Dad’s home early.”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Rose

  My hands gripped the steering wheel of the old Buick tightly. The car was the least fancy one in our garage, but that was why I’d picked it. I’d gotten my license while we were living in Portland, but I hadn’t had a whole lot of opportunities for driving practice. I didn’t want to be maneuvering a car I was afraid to dent along the roads.

  Of course, it wasn’t the thought of denting this car that had my body tensed. It was knowing Dad was waiting for me on the other side of that stone wall coming into view up ahead.

  I willed my fingers to relax and reached up to hit the control for the gate. The wrought-iron bars hummed open. I pulled the car through the second I could and drove right up by the front steps to make it easier for the porters to carry in my purchases.

  Mrs. Gainsley appeared in the doorway right behind the porter who hustled out. A prickle ran down my back. I’d told Jin I wasn’t worried about her seeing the art I’d had him make, but I couldn’t say I was really keen on the idea of her inspecting it either.

  My instinct was to grab that box and carry it up to my room myself. But that would only make her curious what I’d gotten that I was being so protective of. I dragged in a breath and smiled at the porter.

  “You can put most of these in the corner of the dining room for now. This one should go up to my room. Thank you!”

  He bobbed his head and hefted the first two.

  “You’ve done a lot of shopping,” Mrs. Gainsley observed in her dry voice. “The manor is quite well-stocked already, from what I’ve seen.”

  I shrugged as if I hadn’t thought all that much about the matter. “This is the first party we’ve hosted here in more than a decade. I figured a little updating for the occasion couldn’t hurt. With Dad’s business partners coming, I want everything to look as good as it can.”

  “I suppose that’s an admirable sentiment.” She smiled at me, no cruelty in it. What was I to her—just a job?

  I lingered by the car as Gabriel ambled over from the garage to collect it, even though I could have just left the keys in the ignition. I wanted to see with my own eyes when the porter took that last box. As he tugged it out, I handed the key ring over to Gabriel, giving him a smile I hoped looked suitably employer-ly. “I managed not to do any permanent damage—to or with her.”

  Gabriel shot me a grin, but his eyes stayed a little more serious for the instant before they slid away from mine. “Never worried you would, Miss Hallowell.”

  I couldn’t say anything more to him with Mrs. Gainsley watching. I hurried up the steps as he ducked into the driver’s seat. “My father is here?” I said to the estate manager. “He texted me saying he was almost at the house.”

  Before she could answer, Dad’s voice rang down the front hall. “There she is. Come on, Rose. I’ve got lots to show you.”

  He beckoned me into the parlor he’d just emerged from.

  I pasted a smile on my face and went to join him. The savory smells of a pork roast and baked apples were drifting from the kitchen. Mrs. Gainsley had the staff putting together Dad’s favorite dinner. As if the trip he’d just been on had been his victory more than for my sake.

  Of course, that was actually true.

  Dad had already retrieved his laptop from his office. The laptop I’d spirited off to Kyler’s apartment just last night. I glanced from him to it as I sat down on the stiff Victorian sofa next to him, but he didn’t look as if he’d noticed anything off. Ky’s password reactivation must have worked fine.

  “First off,” Dad said, “Killian sent back a quick message given that he can’t arrive in person for another few days.” He brought up a video on his phone and handed it to me.

  A slim guy with sleek chestnut hair smiled at me from the screen. “Rose,” he said when I started the video playing. “I’m sorry we’ll be meeting under these circumstances, but I’m very much looking forward to getting to know you and seeing how things, should we say, �
��spark’ between us.”

  His light voice sounded smooth enough, but I thought I caught a desperate gleam in his eyes. What was it Celestine had written about him? He’d want to use my power to reclaim his family’s estate. From its rightful owner, presumably. I passed the phone back to Dad, my smile getting stiffer.

  What promises had my father made about how Killian could use my magic once he had me like a puppet on a string?

  “Killian’s actually quite a crafty sort,” Dad said eagerly, shifting his attention to his laptop. “I hadn’t realized. He makes tools by hand for witching use—wands and ceremonial bowls and daggers and the like.”

  I managed not to stiffen at the word ‘dagger.’ The spell that would have bound my magic to my consort’s will involved a dagger, to invoke a stabbing pain if I tried to resist his demands. Did Dad even know that, or had he simply passed on Celestine’s notes, wherever she’d kept them, to Mrs. Gainsley for her to sort out?

  He entered a password and brought up a website that displayed some of what I guessed were Killian’s goods. They were well-crafted, the etchings of the glyphs precise, the designs elegant. If I hadn’t already known what lengths Killian was apparently willing to go to for magic of his own, I might have seen that as a good sign.

  “They’re lovely,” I said with as much enthusiasm as I could fake.

  “He’s done quite a bit of studying in the historical records and lore so he can bring that knowledge to the work,” Dad said. “So you two should have quite a bit to talk about there.”

  Spark help me, when was the last time I’d had space to even think about my job digitizing historical documents? I hadn’t even written a word in my compilation of modern witching history since my confrontation with Celestine.

  It was awfully hard to see much point in adding to it when there was so much I clearly hadn’t even suspected… so much that I couldn’t expose without putting everyone I loved in danger.