by Eva Chase
“I can’t fault them for that,” Declan said. “If they tip the joymancers off that they’ve discovered what happened to your mother, they’ll take steps to prevent a rescue—move her, increase security…”
“Yeah.” I’d thought of that too. I groaned and rubbed my arms, generating a little more warmth beneath my thin jacket. “It’s just such a messed up situation. I don’t know if anything I can do will make a difference once they’ve got a location.”
“She’s your mother,” Declan said. “They’ve wanted you to be involved this far. They shouldn’t be able to just shut you out after that. I don’t know how much impact you’ll be able to have over their strategies, but at least you can be there and watch for chances to aim for a less violent outcome.”
That was true. I held that possibility in my chest with a flicker of hope. Maybe not a large flicker, but better than nothing.
I hesitated for a moment and then allowed myself to admit, “It’s not just the part about breaking her out. I don’t know how to feel… about having her back here, back in my life, in general. I don’t remember anything about her—and even if I did, that was so long ago and she must have been through so much. What’s she going to expect from me? What’s going to happen with the pentacle of barons once she’s back and they can go ahead with their planning without needing my approval?”
“They’ll have a lot less reason to attack you,” Declan pointed out.
“Well, yeah—unless she isn’t dancing to their tune either, and they use me to threaten her.”
Declan shook his head. “She wouldn’t let them get away with that. What they’ve already done to you in secret they’re keeping secret because it’s the worst kind of treason. If she had any idea the other barons were undermining her family to get their way—there’d be hell to pay.”
He said that with so much certainty that I gave him a curious look. It hadn’t really occurred to me before that I might have a trusted source on my mother’s character, since I knew Lillian would only give a positive report, but while Declan wasn’t likely to remember much more than I did about her, he’d been around the other barons for a long time.
“Have you heard much about her?” I asked. “Have the other barons mentioned her: what policies she supported, how they felt about her, how well they got along—or didn’t?”
The light shifted over Declan’s face with the swing of the lantern in his hand. He took his time considering the question.
“It’s hard to say, because anything I’ve heard is based on who she was ages ago,” he said. “Even if she hadn’t been imprisoned all that time, she might have changed her perspective over the years. She’d only been baron for a little while. She and my mother were the last ones to join the new pentacle as their parents stepped down—other than Connar’s mother with that upset of power.”
“I know, but it’d still be useful to get some idea what she was like.”
He rubbed his mouth. “I know she and Malcolm’s dad were pretty close. The other barons have occasionally lamented her absence and how much easier things would be if she were still around. And my dad’s mentioned a few times over the years that my mother felt like there wasn’t much room for debate, because the two most powerful families could bulldoze over any objection together. I don’t think she was ever very friendly with your mother. But I don’t know exactly what they disagreed on.”
That lined up with the university photos I’d seen in the album I’d found on the Bloodstone country property nearby. My mother had looked awfully happy to be hanging out with the future Baron Nightwood—and the few pictures Declan’s mom had made it into, she’d been off to the side, noticeably tense.
But that was in matters of politics, of course. I had no idea what my mother would have thought of anyone’s child-rearing practices. And I didn’t really know much about Baron Nightwood’s politics other than he wasn’t above breaking the law when it suited him… and he shared the usual fearmancer disdain for Naries.
I kicked at a stray rock. “Have you been able to get a better idea what changes exactly they want to push through so much?”
“No. I don’t even know if they’re still after the same goals they were back then. They must have some different priorities after all this time.”
I glanced at him, catching a bit of exasperation in his tone. “Do you think they’re going to accept you as a baron even after you’ve graduated and it’s all official? They can’t keep shutting you out of their discussions forever, can they?”
“I guess we’ll see.” His lips set in a grim smile. “I’m not sure they didn’t treat my mother the same way. The Ashgraves have been black sheep among the top families for at least a few generations simply because we don’t bother to play the status games quite as much and we take a more friendly attitude toward the Naries. But they can’t cut us out completely, not when we’re magically bound to the pentacle.”
“It’ll get better,” I said. “When the rest of us scions can start taking our spots, we can really start changing things. I don’t think even Malcolm wants to rule like that.”
“Neither do I,” Declan agreed. “I just…” He trailed off, shutting his mouth with a clenching of his jaw.
“You just?” I prodded.
“I feel kind of traitorous even admitting it. But this isn’t the career I’d have chosen if I’d gotten to choose. I’m glad I’m part of the pentacle to be some kind of moderating influence, and maybe I’ll make a difference in the long run, but so far… It’s decided every aspect of my life, you know? Every action I’ve taken since I was a kid, I’ve had to consider how it’ll fit into claiming my position, keeping the authority I need to maintain. I think a guy like Malcolm gets something out of the sense of power that comes with the role, but I don’t exactly enjoy being domineering.”
I elbowed him lightly, remembering the confidence he’d exuded when he’d gotten me out of the blacksuits’ custody. “And yet you look so good when you’re ordering people around.”
A hint of a proper smile came back. “Practice makes perfect? I shouldn’t complain. There are thousands of fearmancers who’d give their right hand to trade places with me and become baron. Sometimes I get tired of the constant political maneuvering, is all—and it’s several years still until the current barons start retiring.”
“That’s understandable. I’m tired of the power plays, and I only got here five months ago.” I reached to grasp his free hand. “I wish my arrival had taken some of the pressure off you instead of multiplying the things you have to worry about.”
“Hey.” He squeezed my hand, looking down at me with affection so bright in his hazel eyes that my pulse fluttered. “You’re the first person in a long time who’s made me glad I got stuck with this job.”
I tugged him to a stop and bobbed up on my toes to kiss him. He met me with the graze of his fingers into my hair, and for a moment I just reveled in the fact that I could do this now without any fears of ruining him, without tasting guilt on his lips.
Then thunder rumbled through the clouds overhead. Declan drew back with a concerned glance at the sky. “Maybe we should head back to the car.”
We’d only backtracked a few steps when the first raindrops started to fall. I picked up my pace, pulling my jacket tighter around me. It wasn’t much protection as the drizzle picked up to a steady patter, cold water seeping into my hair and dappling my cheeks.
Another boom echoed down from above, and the clouds opened up with a total deluge. Rain poured down over us so thickly I could barely make out the path ahead. A yelp slipped from my throat. Declan grabbed my hand again, and we ran together, his lantern’s light rippling over the rain, until the lamps along the highway beamed blearily through the downpour.
When we reached the car, Declan opened a back door and motioned me inside. I scrambled in, grateful to escape the flood. The rain drummed against the roof as Declan followed me with a thump of the closing door.
A shiver ran through me beneath my dren
ched clothes. Declan hugged me to him, but not much warmth penetrated the layers of soaked fabric covering both our bodies. He let go of me to lean between the front seats. “I’ll get the engine running and turn on the heat.”
I didn’t know how much that was going to help unless he turned the interior into a sauna. As he fiddled with the controls, I peeled off my jacket. My skirt and blouse felt just as heavy and unpleasant against my skin. I hesitated, and then hauled my blouse over my head too.
Declan dropped back into the seat just as I’d tossed my blouse aside. His eyebrows rose, a teasing but still appreciative glint coming into his eyes.
“It’s what you’re supposed to do if you’re, like, on the verge of hypothermia or something,” I said in my defense. “You dry off and warm up faster with the wet clothes off.”
“That does actually make sense,” he said, still sounding amused, and reached for the buttons on his own shirt, which was plastered to his slim frame.
By the time I’d kicked off my soggy shoes and wriggled out of my skirt, Declan had stripped down to his boxers. He’d left the overhead light off, but I could feel his attention on me, on the bare skin I’d uncovered, in the dim light that seeped through the windows from the car’s running lights.
The air was still cool, only a thin trickle of warmth reaching us from the vents. I scooted across the seat and brushed his damp hair back from his forehead. He wrapped his arms around me. Without our soaked clothes in the way, the contact did heat me up quite a bit. In various ways.
“Better?” he asked by my ear in a voice so low it sent desire spiking through me.
“I don’t know,” I said, tracing my fingers down his side. “I think we’ve still got too many clothes on.”
He laughed and tipped his head to seek out my mouth. We kissed hard and fast, carried on a wave of lust I clearly wasn’t the only one feeling. I ran my hands over the compact muscle of his chest, and he dislodged my bra to cup my breast. One flick of his thumb over my nipple had me gasping.
I arched into his touch as he shifted his focus from one side to the other. Maybe he’d studied me as avidly as he did all those books of rules and records, because he seemed to know how to provoke the right reactions in me as well as if we’d done this a hundred times instead of only twice.
He kissed my shoulder and then the swell of my breast as he unhooked my bra completely. “I wouldn’t give this up for anything,” he murmured against my skin.
I wasn’t sure he could really mean that, but I wasn’t going to argue, especially not when his mouth had closed hot and hungry over my nipple. I sucked in a breath at the jolt of pleasure.
Declan tipped me back onto the seat, and I took the opportunity to wrench at his boxers. He helped me yank them off him and dropped them into the heap of wet clothes we were accumulating on the floor. Then he leaned in to claim my lips again. Fresh bliss rippled through me with each stroke of his hands across my chest, down my sides, over my thighs.
He hooked his fingers around the hem of my panties, and I lifted my hips to give him better access. A whimper escaped me as my core grazed his erection, and Declan let out a groan. He tossed my panties aside and teased his fingers over my clit with such precision the rush of pleasure made my hips jump all over again of their own accord.
When he eased his hand lower to trace over my slit, a different sort of wanting rose up in me—to be a full partner in this act, to take one small responsibility of the many weighing on him off his shoulders.
“Declan,” I said, and had to swallow a moan as his fingers dipped inside me. “I— Can you teach me how to cast the protection spell? I really should know how to take care of myself, shouldn’t I?”
Declan gazed down at me, and I wasn’t sure what was sexier—the desire in his taut expression or the thought that after all the innocuous magic he’d taught me in his role as teacher’s aide, he could now be my instructor in a much more intimate fashion.
“Of course,” he said, his voice rough. “It’s a simple Physicality technique. Whatever words fit best for you, you use them to conjure a thin barrier inside. You just want to picture it totally solid and covering you completely. There are other aspects that can make things less… messy afterward, and that sort of thing, but they’re not essential.”
I didn’t have the patience for a full tutorial right now. “I’ll stick to the basics,” I said, and reached down to align my hand with his. Closing my eyes, I pictured that space inside me where he fit so well and murmured, “Protect,” with a pulse of the magic in my chest.
The energy tingled through my arm and across my inner flesh. Declan held himself over my body, careful not to distract me, until I was sure the spell was finished. Then I clutched him close, and he kissed me with a ragged breath.
He swiveled his thumb over my clit until I was growling for more. His hand slid under my ass to lift me up to meet him. My feet bumped the far door, but I didn’t give a shit. Not when he was sliding into me with such a perfect burn of bliss.
His patience had obviously worn thin too. He thrust into me with an urgency I couldn’t help echoing. I pulled his mouth back to mine, moaning as he plunged even deeper inside. The giddy burn spread from my core through my whole torso. I bucked up to meet him and cried out as the pleasure swept through me twice as potent as before. A tremor ran up my spine as I came apart.
Declan stiffened over me with the impact of his own release. Then he bowed his head, capturing my mouth for one more kiss. The rain rattled on above us, and there was barely room for us to cuddle on the narrow surface, but right then, there wasn’t anything I’d have given up this moment for either.
Chapter Thirteen
Rory
When the blacksuits’ car pulled into the university parking lot on Tuesday morning, it was the same driver as before. I studied him, as much as I could see beyond the back of his head, as I got in behind him.
“Are we doing the ceremony at the same place?” I asked as he gunned the engine.
“Yes,” he said, flat and terse. Not the most talkative guy ever.
I trained even more attention on the neatly combed strands of his dun hair, rolling my general insight casting word onto my tongue. Attempting to peek inside the head of any blacksuit was risky. In their training, they must have learned all kinds of techniques against intrusions. Maybe this wasn’t the smartest idea ever.
But this guy was clearly pretty low in the hierarchy if he was being given the role of chauffeur while the others set up the actual spell. I had a better chance of gleaning something from him than someone like Lillian. And Insight was my specialty. I’d like to think over the months I’d developed a fair bit of skill there.
I exhaled like a sigh and managed to work the casting word into the sound so faintly it shouldn’t have been perceivable. “Franco.” It was the only casting word I’d gotten in the habit of using that wasn’t literally connected to the intent of the spell—my adoptive parents’ last name, in honor of the value they’d instilled in me to care what went on in other people’s heads.
As I spoke, I kept a tight rein on my magic. The blacksuit would definitely notice if I launched an obvious assault on his mental walls. Instead, I let the power that guided my awareness stretch out tentatively, testing the edges of the magic that formed a barrier around his mind.
He did have a solid wall up. No impressions slipped out to me in my initial feint. But my magic caught on a small weak point in that shield where his casting was a little thinner than elsewhere. I focused on that spot and let the energy I was extending push on it gently.
A few wavering images flickered through my consciousness: a stern face too blurry for me to recognize, a jab of frustration, and a whiff of the deeper anger I’d sensed during Sunday’s ceremony. Then the guy shifted in his seat with a twitch as if he’d sensed something off, and I jerked my awareness back with a stutter of my pulse.
I hadn’t been able to get a clear enough picture to know if the anger had anything to do with my mothe
r’s situation, but it definitely wasn’t a good sign for calmer tempers among the blacksuits.
When we reached the field, it looked like the other blacksuits were just finishing their set-up. This hadn’t been the same kind of rush job as on the weekend. Lillian nodded to me as I got out of the car, bending to place one more conducting piece.
Maggie was standing by a sapling near the edge of the field, her arms crossed loosely over her chest. I thought her eyes might have narrowed for a second when she saw me, but her expression warmed with her usual cheerful demeanor so quickly I wasn’t sure I hadn’t imagined it because of the uneasiness I’d been left with after our most recent conversation. She hustled over to give me a quick once-over with the lavender water.
Lillian straightened up and strode over to meet me just as Maggie was finishing. “We’ll proceed the same way we did before,” she said. “I have a couple more staff on hand to watch for any interference at the other end and diffuse that if it occurs. We just need you to take your spot on the center point again—”
“Lillian,” I said quickly, before she could barrel on into the ceremony, “before we get started, there’s something I wanted to talk to you about.”
She frowned at me, shifting on her feet with her typical predatory grace. “We’re not in the same rush as before, but the ideal window is still limited. Can’t it wait for afterward?”
I steeled myself. “It won’t take long. I just want your word that once you know approximately where my mother is, you’ll bring me with you on the mission to get her free.”
And I wanted that word given in front of all these witnesses, so it’d be awfully hard for her to go back on it.
