Sorcerous Heat (Harem of Sorcery Book 1)

by Lana Ames

  “They look marvelous on you.” He was once again dressed in his Robin Hood getup, minus the cute hat.

  We grinned at one another for a moment. Was it possible he was as stymied as I was? That softened my heart a degree further.

  No, focus, I told myself. “So: you were going to explain everything?”

  The grin stayed on his face; if anything, it got a little wider. “I don’t mean to derail, but I thought I should ask: do you want any coffee, or breakfast, or anything?”

  I hadn’t until he mentioned it…at his words, I suddenly remembered not having had any dinner last night. And all that champagne. “Ohh…yeah, coffee and breakfast would be great. Can we—?”

  He was already rising to his feet. “As I said, this won’t delay us, beyond a moment here.” He stepped over to the door to the hallway and pushed the button on an intercom I hadn’t even noticed before.

  “Yes?” came a tinny voice.

  “Full American breakfast for two in the Magenta Room, please, including extra coffee.”

  “Right away, sir.”

  Justin came back to his chair. “All right, the explanation.”

  “Okay now I don’t mean to derail, but—wow—I don’t even…” I trailed off, not even sure what question I was really asking. “Do you live here?”

  He gave me a gentle smile. “That’s part of the explanation. Shall we begin, while we wait for the kitchen folks to do their magic?”

  “Yeah.”

  And now why was I suddenly so nervous?

  Chapter Four

  “You may remember me mentioning an enchantment last night.”

  I gaped at Justin. Whatever I’d been expecting him to say, this wasn’t it. “What do you mean?” I managed. Enchantments—magic—none of this was real. Just like I wasn’t really Catwoman; I’d just dressed up as a fictional character for a party last night.

  “Enchantment isn’t exactly the right word for it,” he went on, “but it’s close enough. Lady Periwinkle, who owns this house, is actually…well, let’s just say she’s an even more powerful figure than she seems.”

  I looked around at the decadent room, the sumptuous bathroom beyond, the intercom at the door leading to a kitchen that was about to send us a full breakfast. “This seems pretty amazing,” I said.

  “This is just money—wealth. Which, of course, is power in and of itself; but Lady Periwinkle is far more than merely wealthy.”

  “That can’t be her real name,” I said. Hadn’t Trevor told me her name when he’d given me the invitation? I struggled to remember. Maybe he’d just mentioned an important client, though that would be a little unlike him.

  Why hadn’t I asked? Why couldn’t I remember?

  “It’s the only name she is known by in this era,” Justin said. “She likely had other names in past times, but it is how she is known here.”

  This was feeling more and more surreal all the time. “Past times like…when?”

  “She is hundreds—many hundreds of years old,” Justin said, with an entirely straight face. “When people live that long, they need to move from community to community. They need to ‘die’ and reappear somewhere else, under a different identity. Become a different person.”

  I really needed that coffee to get here. And some food. Maybe after I’d eaten, this would make more sense, and it would seem less like I’d fallen into some bizarre fairy tale.

  Justin watched me carefully as he continued his story. “Of course, some members of her inner circle must, by necessity, know her secrets. When a…long-lived person has gone through enough lifetimes and amassed enough wealth—and experience—they become more skillful at choosing trustworthy assistants from among us normal folks. They need our help, to interact with the modern world, to advise and protect them, even to cook their food and keep their houses. And, being wealthy enough, they are able to remunerate us very handsomely. So yes, I do in fact live here, though not in this guest room; I have my own quarters on the property.” His roguish grin was back for a second. “Which I would be very happy to show you, if you are willing.”

  “We’ll see,” I said. “Go on.”

  He nodded. “Which brings us back to the enchantment.”

  Of course, right then was when the gentle knock on the door came, followed—once Justin gave the okay—by the fanciest rolling room service table I’d ever encountered. Under silver covers were piles of French toast, crisp bacon and link sausages, fluffy scrambled eggs, and a bowl of achingly ripe strawberries and blueberries. Not to mention the coffee. Ahh, the elixir of life. (Of course with a pitcher of rich fresh cream and a brimmingly full sugarbowl.)

  We paused to partake. As the caffeine rolled through my system, my neurons awoke and began firing once more. I began to feel human once again.

  And Justin’s story still defied belief.

  “So, the enchantment,” I prompted, around a mouthful of eggs.

  Justin looked uncomfortable for a moment. He took a long sip of his coffee, seemingly searching for words. “Forgive me,” he said. “This is…challenging.” And now the grin. “Which is no doubt why I have postponed telling you all this.”

  “Well, it’s possible you were distracted,” I allowed, falling into the easy flirtation with him despite myself.

  “Indeed, milady, I most certainly was.”

  Stop it, I told myself. I forced myself to not return his grin, to continue stuffing myself with this delicious breakfast. The nourishment should bring my brain back even more thoroughly than the coffee was. Yes, I had been pretty hungry. Funny that I hadn’t even realized it. Distracted indeed.

  Damn it, I wanted to like him so badly, but he still had a lot of explaining to do.

  “Right,” he said, with an embarrassed cough, after a minute of silence. “Lady Periwinkle’s powers come to her through…arrangements with other…entities. These entities…” He paused again.

  This time, I set my coffee cup down just a little too hard; it rattled in its saucer on the table. “Justin. I don’t know what you’re dancing around, but please, just speak plainly. Say whatever words there are to say. I’m already not at all sure I’m believing any of this, so why not just put it all out there?”

  He gazed back at me, his emerald eyes holding mine. “Lady Periwinkle made an ill-advised arrangement with a demon. That demon is now threatening to take back all her power, everything he gave her over the centuries, all at once. She needs help fighting him off—she must defeat him, or he will simply regroup and return again. If he has his way, she will surely die. My task, as her sworn vassal, has been to find other humans with magic in their souls, to help awaken that magic in them, and persuade them to join with us in our lady’s defense.” He put his hands out before him, a gesture of openness, maybe even helplessness. “And there it is. In a nutshell. Emma Foster, will you help save our Lady Periwinkle?”

  I just stared back at him yet again. Well, I’d asked for honesty, hadn’t I? I shook my head, took another sip of my coffee and a last hearty bite of my eggs, and said, “It’s funny. You seem like you believe that.”

  His expression grew desperate. “Emma! It is all true, every word of it, I swear.”

  I put a hand out and took his across the table. “Justin. I don’t know what to believe. You can understand that, right?”

  “Of course,” he said, quickly. “I know this is…not normal, not anything you’ve ever come across, out here in the real world outside of fairy stories. But believe me, it’s true. I can prove it to you.”

  “Can you?” When he nodded, I said, “Okay, that sounds good. Show me some magic.”

  He shrugged, squeezing my hand. “I cannot personally; as I said, I am merely human myself. But I can speak to Lady Periwinkle and ask her to give you a small demonstration of her powers.” He frowned slightly. “I imagine she would be willing…though she is strained these days, in her ongoing struggle with the demon. It is taxing to her, fighting him back even as far as she has managed to.”

  I cou
ld see where this was going: the lovely lady would be happy to give me a demonstration, but not right now, of course; and then she would be occupied with her other vassals, or would be off downtown courting other local businessmen for their credulous staff members, or… I shook my head. “No, don’t worry about that now. I still have more questions.”

  “Yes, anything.” He looked very, very relieved, and I nodded inside, showing him nothing.

  “This is all very interesting, but it doesn’t actually explain anything about—well, Finley. Why in the world would he feel comfortable strolling in here this morning, as if we were going to—as if he—as if I—” I could feel my face start to flush as my tongue tied; my chagrin at myself grew all over again. I’d insisted that Justin speak freely, and now I couldn’t bring myself to?

  “As if he were the next man you would be welcoming into your bed?”

  “Exactly!” I huffed out a breath. “What in the world does my being some sort of easy lay have to do with protecting Lady Periwinkle?”

  Justin smiled at me, relieved and happy now that I appeared to be getting it. “That’s just it: that’s the nature of the magic. Our lady relies on bonded cohorts of human vassals. She can draw power from us, and she can use us as a defensive shield. The enchantment is the powerful union that forms when one woman with magic in her soul bonds with…” now his eyes darted away briefly “…more than one man.”

  “More than one.” I caught his eyes again, dragging them back to meet mine. Making him say this to my face.

  “Yes.”

  “How many more than one, exactly?”

  “Um.” He played with one of the crusts of his French toast. “The strongest, most powerful and stable bond is one between a woman and four men.”

  I just about snorted coffee out of my nose. “Four men?! I don’t think so!”

  “Emma, please, just—”

  I got to my feet, wiping coffee off my face and setting the cup back down on the table. “Nope, that’s it. Just, nope. Thank you so much for the amazing sex and the delicious breakfast, and oh, that shower was to die for; I’ll just be going home now, and back to my life. It was great meeting you.” I was already backing toward the door and gathering up my catsuit. “I’ll, um, send back these clothes I’m wearing when I get home.”

  Justin was up and at my side in a heartbeat. “Please, give me a chance to explain—”

  “You’ve already explained quite enough. I am not anything like a prude, obviously, but I have never been, and will never be, involved with more than one man at a time. Now let me go.”

  “I am not holding you here.” He gestured at the door, which I could open and walk out of, of course; he was not blocking me. “But will you give me the courtesy of answering one question? Entirely honestly?”

  I gazed at him, his earnest eyes, his well-controlled intensity. I supposed I owed him that much. “All right.”

  Justin cleared his throat, glanced down, then back up at me. “When you met Finley last night; and when he came in here this morning. Can you honestly tell me that you felt no spark of attraction to him?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Well, sure, he’s a good-looking guy—”

  “Not that,” Justin interrupted. “You must see lots of good-looking men all day long, and I have no doubt that plenty of them are interested in you in return. I’m talking about something deeper. I’m talking about the magic. I think you know what I mean—no, I know you know. We clearly have it between us, you and me.”

  I nodded.

  “Can you honestly tell me you didn’t feel it with Finley?”

  I had agreed to be truthful. So I would be. “Yes. I felt a spark of attraction to him, right when I met him. Last night was very exciting, and I was caught up in my flirtation with you, not to mention all that champagne we drank, so that’s not surprising. And I felt it again this morning, when I was all charged up from our, admittedly, amazing night. But all of that is still a far cry from being willing to sleep with him, one day after I slept with you. Feelings and actions are very different things, and I refuse to be a slave to the body’s baser instincts. Even if you and he were both totally on board with it.” I folded my arms over my chest. “Okay, that’s your answer. I’m going home now.”

  “All right.” Justin took a step back, looking very sad. “Thank you for the lovely evening.”

  “You’re welcome.” I put a hand on the doorknob. “And thank you.”

  He nodded.

  I stood there with my hand on the doorknob. This felt…unfinished. Well, of course it was, because he wanted something impossible. And that was without even going into what other two men I was supposed to consider.

  And yet…it had been so wonderful, up until this. I wanted to give him a kiss, or exchange numbers and agree to meet up again, or something. But of course I couldn’t.

  “All right,” I said, and opened the door.

  And walked out.

  I should have known Finley would be waiting for me in the hallway.

  Chapter Five

  He sat on one of the cute little couches, about halfway down the hallway leading toward the room Lady Periwinkle called the gallery. Far enough away to have not heard any of our conversation, and yet…

  Finley rose to his feet and stood before the couch, waiting as I walked toward him. I mean, I had to walk toward him—it was the only way I knew out of this crazy place! But I could not escape the sense that I was about to have to explain something difficult to him.

  That I had disappointed him.

  Well, of course I had. Just like Justin, he had been expecting something impossible. A man I had barely met; a man I knew far less well than the stranger I’d just spent the night with.

  So why did I feel so broken up about this?

  My heart caught in my throat at the sight of his woebegone face as I walked closer to him. He knew; I didn’t have to explain anything.

  “So…he couldn’t convince you, I see.” He stood before me, arms at his sides, eyes slightly downcast. Warm, rich dark brown eyes, with little flecks of gold…

  Wait, stop. I took a deep breath, willfully ignoring the heady scent of him. Maleness, with a hint of spice, and a very clean, musky undertone. I knew it was no cologne, that if such a scent could be bottled, it would make whoever formulated it rich beyond anyone’s wildest dreams…

  Why can I not stop lusting after him? “I’m not doing this,” I said to him. “Magic doesn’t exist. I don’t know what you guys have going on in terms of pheromones or whatever, but I don’t appreciate it.” I was trying to sound harsh, strong, determined.

  I was failing, and I knew it.

  Yet Finley was taking me at my word. He nodded, swallowed, and cleared his throat. “Of course. I understand completely.”

  “So I’m going home now. I have to—” I had been about to say I have to work, but Mondays and Tuesdays were my weekend, when the gallery was closed. “I have to get home.”

  “Of course.” He brought his earnest dark eyes to mine. “May I walk you to the door?”

  Well, what harm could there be in that? “All right,” I said.

  We walked the rest of the way down the hallway and into the gallery. The room looked entirely different this morning. First of all, it felt much smaller; how had so many people fit in here last night? And it was pristine, no sign whatsoever that a wild party had happened here into the wee hours of the night. I could see skylights high above, letting in the strong sun, highlighting the tall plants in every corner. It felt cozy and intimate. What a beautiful room; amazing what you could do with furniture and light. I let a sigh escape.

  Finley glanced over at me, then across the room. “Sometimes I like to have coffee in that sunny corner.” He pointed to a small table by a south-facing window, set with a vase of flowers.

  “Very nice.” I hesitated, gazing around the room, still trying to figure out how it looked so different. Still feeling loath to leave.

  “Would you…join me for coffee?”

/>   I knew I shouldn’t, that I would just be setting myself up for more arguments about something I’d already decided. “Sure,” I said, my rogue impulses betraying me as I followed him across the room.

  He pulled out the lovely little café chair for me—white-painted ironwork—and made sure I was seated comfortably before he took his own seat opposite me. A formally-dressed servant appeared. “Deux café au laits,” Finley ordered in beautifully accented French, without asking me what I wanted. I tried to tell myself to be annoyed by this.

  After the servant left, Finley looked at me with a small smile on his face. “Thank you,” he said, after a moment.

  “For what?”

  “For sticking around, even for a few minutes. I know that what Justin told you must be…a little hard to believe.”

  “Try a lot!” I said, rolling my eyes, still struggling to understand it all. “So, um, you are part of this, um, magical spell too, huh?”

  His small smile grew a little larger. His eyes were kind, though; I did not feel mocked. Just empathized with. “Yes, and though I know this goes against everything you have ever been told in your life, it is entirely real. We all serve our Lady Periwinkle and try to protect her as best we can. Justin and I are honored to have been chosen to help form her latest defensive cohort. And,” he added with a wicked glimmer in his eyes, “I have to say, I am very pleased about her choice for our cohort’s center.”

  “Um.” I stared down at the table. “You mean me.”

  “Yes.”

  We were interrupted by the servant’s returning with two steaming cups. “Sugar, miss?”

  I took a sip of the coffee; smooth and creamy. “No, thank you, this is perfect.”

  He gave a short bow and retreated.

  We drank our coffees for another minute or two without talking. Whatever else I might think about my experience here, the food and drink were certainly amazing. “Do you live here too?” I asked Finley. “I mean, on the grounds, like Justin does?”

  “Yes. I have quarters in the main house, though.”