by Lola Gabriel
15
Boden
“Jane!” he exclaimed, and it was all he could do not to grab her and pull her to him right there. Undo her…wait… “What are you wearing, is that…”
“We’ll explain in a minute!” hissed a voice from behind Jane. Boden looked up from the lovely freckled face and green eyes in front of him. Dru. Also done up to the nines.
“I can’t say I feel great about wearing your mum’s clothes, Boden,” Jane said, calmly and quietly, “but it was a means to an end. We had to talk to you.”
Alisdair had stepped forward and was looking over Boden’s shoulder. “Jane Axion?” he asked, a little too loudly. “What the bloody hell is she doing here?” He almost went to push past Boden, but Aaron threw himself in the way.
“She’s helping us,” Aaron said, not even a hint of a squeak to his voice. “Trust us, please, Alisdair?”
Alisdair stopped, but he didn’t step back. His hands were shaking, though it was hard to tell whether it was with rage, fright, or excitement. “She’s in jail,” he said, his voice dark, “or she should be. She turned, betrayed the cause. I saw the evidence myself. The blood on her—”
“A plant,” Aaron said. “Everyone who’s read the literature knows it was a plant.”
Alisdair turned angry eyes on the boy. “Peter was my friend!” he said.
Jane was taking deep, slow breaths. Her dress was old-fashioned, a deep red with gold brocade. “He was my friend too, Alisdair. So were you, remember?”
There was silence between the five of them, though the rest of the room was loud with music, conversation, the ting of glasses against glasses, and glasses against trays.
Then, Niamh spoke. “And me,” she said, and she laid a hand on her husband’s arm. “And I loved Peter too, as much as any of you. We know the lengths the regime’s supporters were willing to go to, Alisdair, do we not? Let’s hear them out.” Alisdair had softened at Niamh’s touch. He relaxed, stopped shaking, and stepped back. Jane and Drucilla were allowed to enter the circle.
“This has to be quick,” Drucilla said, “because we might not have much time.” Then she nodded to Alisdair and Niamh, saying hello.
Boden wasn’t sure who was supposed to talk, so he stepped in. He, at least, didn’t seem to be under as much suspicion as the women. “The scroll is gone,” he said, “the reconciliation scroll. They left a clear dud, they wanted us to know it was missing.”
“And if they have it,” Niamh breathed, “then their mistakes…”
“Precisely,” Dru answered.
“Damn it!” Alisdair let this out far too loudly, and the others winced. Again, Niamh put a hand on him. Boden’s stomach was churning. He had failed in one of the only duties he had actually been trusted with, and the fate of the whole nation, the whole world, was up in the air because of it. Because he was so damn childish.
Then Jane’s hand was on his back again, and a calmness fell upon him. A warmth.
“It’s not his fault,” Jane said in a measured tone. “He’s been groomed for this moment for years. We’ve all been played, frankly. And the scroll is still in the castle.”
Boden tensed at this, looked at Jane. As strange as it was that she was in his mother’s dress, she looked beautiful. She looked like a queen. And that was with her hair wild, and her cheeks flushed from the rush to dress up and get down here. To save the day. To be brilliant.
Focus, you oaf. He blinked. “It’s here?” he asked. He couldn’t help the cartoon-level move, and he had a quick scan of the room. Beside him, Jane nodded. “We’re sure,” she said, “and we’re pretty sure—”
A throat was cleared beside them. Despite being in the middle of foiling a plot, they had been concentrating too completely to notice what was going on around them.
“Do we have extra guests?” Talia asked icily.
Dru was doing something weird with her eyes, and Jane momentarily froze, trying to hide her face with her hair.
“You know Drucilla,” Boden said, “and this is…Alexis. We met online.”
Talia gave Dru a tight, toothless smile, which she then turned on Boden. “I see. You do understand the importance of this event, sir?”
Boden nodded. Had Talia always talked to him like she was his mother and he was an unruly teen boy? It was as if he’d been asleep all this time.
“I do,” he said, “and I wanted friends here with me this evening, which I think is my right.”
Talia’s expression did not change. “Indeed it is,” she said. “Just don’t forget your duties. And can we find these girls something more appropriate to wear? You mother’s cast-offs are rather obvious.”
And then it happened. Talia put out a hand to move Jane’s hair. She was looking at the dress she was wearing, with half of its pearl clasps undone, or perhaps hoping to find heavy eye makeup to criticize, but of course, she saw her, saw Jane Axion, and recognized her in the same moment. Her eyes swam with something. Surprise? But then she was all anger. Her face twisted into something horrible, something new. Jane pushed her hand away, and Talia let her, her hand morphing into a pointing finger. Her green nail quivered in the air in front of Jane’s face. “You! You!”
But Jane smiled. A soft, easy smile. She pushed her hair back behind her shoulders. “So, it is you I can thank for three hundred years of catered accommodation, is it?”
Talia didn’t answer. Instead, she spat. She spat right at Jane, hitting her square in the face.
Drucilla’s hands were on Boden, and he realized he had taken a step forward. That his fists were balled. It had been Talia all along. Her presence always there, a small dark cloud. She was part of the larger storm front, and he had failed to see it.
Dru was murmuring in his ear. “She’s always been here, Bo, it’s okay that you didn’t know. I didn’t know. We’ve all been taken for idiots.”
Boden tried to control his breathing. Jane wiped her face.
“It’s over, Talia,” Jane said, still quiet and controlled. She looked at Alisdair. His face was stony. “They both know. You’re done. You can hand it over.”
Talia shrugged. “I don’t have it,” she said. “I left it at the pickup point, and it should be on its way to Richard at a safe house. You’ll remember Richard, Boden. He tutored you…if that’s the word.” She looked at Boden and smiled almost maternally. “We thought we might have a job on our hands keeping this one ignorant, but it turns out it came naturally! Lucky us.”
Jane’s face darkened. Dru stepped in now. “Oh, shut up,” she said. “Taking advantage of a traumatized kid doesn’t make you a genius. And he’s all grown up now. You’re done, Talia. Finished. And we know the scroll is still in the building. We’ll fi—”
Aaron had just turned on his heels and was running for the doors to the hallway. Running full pelt. A waiter leaped out of his way, spilling champagne everywhere, and guests gasped. Their strange circle may have avoided attention so far, but that was clearly about to change.
Boden was still staring at the door, as it closed after the speeding bullet of an intern who had just exited it, when there was a commotion behind him. Talia was just beyond their circle, clearly having taken her moment to escape using Aaron as a distraction, but Niamh was grabbing for her, and then she had her by the back of her dress, fingers dug into the back of the collar, probably scratching Talia’s skin.
“Don’t you bloody dare,” breathed Niamh. “You unholy crow of a woman.” Niamh was shaking now. “You hate everything good in this world, and not only are you plotting against our entire way of life, you’ve used this young man,” she gestured vaguely at Boden with her free hand. “This, as it turns out, is quite a lovely and intelligent young man, and you used him for your own ends. You’ve had him cooped up here, distracted with whatever bullshit you’ve been feeding him, not trusting his own faculties.”
It was time for a role reversal as Alisdair laid a hand on his wife’s shoulder. She looked up at him.
“Al,” she said, “I wan
t to rip her face off.”
“She’ll get her comeuppance,” Alisdair said, “but this might not be the place.”
Niamh loosened her grip, and Alisdair took Talia’s upper arm firmly.
Talia was breathing heavily. “It’s not just me,” she said, “so do what you want to me. We will have power again, and order will be restored. There will be no more mixing, no more compromise.”
Drucilla did a mock yawn. “Broken record, Tals. We always get you lot in the end, don’t we? And we’ll find the damn scroll. I was scrying for all of forty-five minutes to work out it was here still. But as you don’t mix, I don’t imagine you understand what a witch can do, do you? Especially a witch like me.”
Boden was almost sure Dru’s eyes flashed when she said this. A bluish flash like lightning hitting the ground.
Talia made a move toward Dru, but Alisdair still had her. She made a show of fighting him, then gave up. Tried a shrug instead. “Find it. Do as you wish. He’s not finding his mate any time soon, is he? Probably never. God knows we’ve got rid of anyone who might be likely. The balance of power will never be right here while Boden is alpha, and when he dies, by our hand or not, there will be no heir.”
Again, Boden’s heart was beating way too fast. His palms were sweaty. He was terrified, and not of Talia. Not at all. He took a breath, and a step, and looked into Jane’s eyes. She smiled the smallest of smiles, just for him. Telling him, go on.
“I am,” Boden said. “I have,” and he put out a hand, and Jane took it. And finally, as he’d been wishing to all day, he pulled her toward him, wrapping his arms around her, and kissed her, and it was like a fireworks display inside his head. It was like the first drink after an impossible thirst. It was everything. And the crowd, who had been watching, rapt, since Aaron had run from the room and Talia had tried to bolt, began to cheer.
16
Jane
Niamh and Alisdair had brought their men in to escort Talia to the dungeons, and to fan out in search of her compatriots. There had been an hour or two of tension, of letting everyone leave and searching those who were unknown, and everyone had been dead on their feet, still dressed in their finery, by the time they wandered, heavy-footed, up to the bed chambers.
But once the door closed behind them, Boden looked at her with the softest, bluest eyes. “I’m sorry,” he said.
“What for?” She couldn’t look at him and not smile.
“For… for not knowing. I was out here, with you in there…all this time.” His eyes were glinting with rising emotion. She lay a hand on his cheek.
“Boden, you were my escape. It was you. All that time, it was you. It’s how I knew this was real…every time I closed my eyes in there, I was seeing a crowd you were in, or a place you had just left. Some bit of me was out here searching for you.”
And then Boden leaned in and kissed her, and it was that frosty morning feeling again, feathers on the back of the neck feeling. Wanting more and more and more, and she leaned into him, his now very messy suit, which clung sweatily to his beautiful chest.
“It’s like I’ve missed you,” Boden mumbled into her mouth, “and I didn’t even…” She nodded, but she didn’t stop kissing him. Her hand ran along his now smooth chin, and down his throat, where she could feel the tick of his pulse, and she began to undo his buttons, one at a time, not too fast, enjoying the game of it, enjoying how her knuckles were grazing the t-shirt beneath and it was warm with his life, damp with his sweat.
Boden pulled her closer, and she could feel him already hardening, even through the layers of her old-fashioned dress. He dipped to kiss her neck, sweeping her hair back off it to do so, then licking down along her collarbone.
She slipped his shirt and jacket off his shoulders as he began unclipping the dress at the front, and then he had to stop and lift his arms for her to pull the undershirt up over his head and off, and he was so very, very beautiful, standing there looking innocent and hers, his lips bee-stung from kissing, his eyes tired and deep and dirty with wanting her. She moved on to her own dress fastenings, much faster at it than he had been, and soon she was undoing the ties at the back as he kissed her. And then, the dress was off, and it had been the only thing that she was wearing, so she was naked in the pool of its fabric.
Like he had in the forest, he cupped one breast and then the other. Kissed the creamy skin, kissed the nipple. She gasped at his cool hands, and then gasped at his tongue. And soon, they were both naked, and walking, still kissing, still pressing as much skin together as could be pressed together, toward the bed, and they fell down onto it. He stroked down her side and slipped his hand around to feel her wetness, her want, and his fingers stroked her so perfectly she was gasping into his mouth right away, and he was pushing himself against her thigh, hard and warm and real.
Boden lifted his face from hers for a moment. He was flushed, a little sweaty. Perfect.
“I love you, Jane,” he said, and her smile could have lit the palace, or that was what it felt like.
“I love you too, of course,” she said, “of course,” and she pulled his face back to hers and, with them still both on their sides, guided him into her. He moaned, said her name, tugged gently on her hair. He was different than he had been in the forest. He was hers. He was here. He was moving in a way that sent vibrations right through her. She buried her face in his neck and let loose curses, happy curses. And then she pulled his hair and flipped him over, sat above him and smiled down at his lovely face, his lovely body. They had won. For now at least, they had won. And she was free. And she loved him.
She moved with one hand on his chest and her eyes closed. She could feel his stomach tensing beneath her, hear his groans. Hear her own sighs. All she saw was color. A wash of light. No more visions, no more fear. She was full of the feeling of perfection, from beneath her belly button, to her lips. She was all joy, as was he, and it was perfect.
17
Boden
They lay in the afterglow, with only the light of the moon peeking through the window to light the room. He was sweaty, and tired, and unbelievably content. So, this is how it feels. This is how you know.
“You should sleep,” Jane said, from beside him. “You’ll hold the ceremony tomorrow, scroll or no scroll.”
Boden turned over to face her, traced her cheek with his thumb. “Yes, but if I sleep, I can’t talk to you. Anyway, you have the ceremony tomorrow too.”
Jane looked momentarily confused, and Boden added, “You’re my queen, and I’m your alpha. We do these things together now.”
Jane laughed a light, happy laugh. She had been becoming herself all day, Boden was realizing, sloughing off the hell of her life for the past three centuries. “Really? We aren’t even bonded.”
“Not yet,” Boden agreed, “but we’ll do it soon. Do you have plans for it? What will we serve afterwards?”
Jane laughed again, hit him lightly in the chest, and left her hand resting there. “I just want it to be you and me,” she said, “on our own. Somewhere no one knows us.”
Boden kissed her nose. “Me too,” he said. “We’ll see what we can do.”
Jane turned over. She moved decisively in bed, in all contexts, Boden thought. She lay on her back, looking up at the canopy above them. “Do you think we’ll be as happy as they were?” She pointed up, and it took Boden a moment to realize what she meant.
“Yes,” he said, “it’s about love, isn’t it? We’ll be happy. We’re strong. You are, you’re so strong.”
She looked at him. “Boden,” she said, “your father died, was likely killed, and you’ve managed for three centuries near enough. You need to realize that you are strong too. You’re…wonderful.”
He didn’t know if he’d ever been talked to like this…certainly not since his parents.
And Jane must have sensed him on the edge of being overwhelmed, because she said, “What would I wear? I mean, if I take part tomorrow? I can’t keep wearing your mother’s outfits.”
“Personally, I love sweatpants on you.”
The knock on the door scared them both half out of their skins. Boden sat bolt upright, and Jane scrabbled to pull the covers over herself and cover her nakedness. When she sat up, though, Jane was the one to call out, “Hello? Who is it?”
The door opened so hard, Boden was suspicious that it might have been kicked. And then the light clicked on. It nearly blinded him, but he recognized the voice.
“Jane?!” Aaron exclaimed, and then he coughed a bit. “What are you…oh…I see.”
Boden smiled. Silhouetted in the doorway, barely visible, the awkwardness radiating from Aaron was still palpable.
“It’s okay,” Jane said in a sweet, quiet voice as if talking to a scared animal. “He’s my…I mean…we’re mates.” She laughed at this, laying a hand on Boden’s arm, as if to share the ridiculousness of the statement. The true statement.
“We are,” Boden said, “really. Come in, Aaron.”
Shakily, Aaron stepped into the room. “I just didn’t think it was the time for…sorry.”
Boden nodded, taking his cues from Jane’s demeanor. “You’re totally right,” he said, “but this is real.”
“Guys!” Aaron threw up his hands. “I’m so glad! Congratulations!”
There was something in Aaron’s right hand, and now that he was in the room properly, they could see that he was weirdly dirty and had a graze on his face.
