Idols and Enemies (Amplifier 4)

by Meghan Ciana Doidge

  Aiden reached for me. I loosely twined my fingers through his. Then together, we stepped into the house.

  Khalid swore behind us. “That’s a ‘no,’ then?”

  “It’s always been a no, Khalid,” Aiden said, though not unkindly. “I have no interest in heading the cabal. And, whether I’m bonded to Emma or not, Kader Azar could kill me with a single word.” He glanced back at his brother. “He could kill any of us.”

  “Maybe,” Khalid said. Then he looked at me. “But maybe not anymore.”

  Aiden squeezed my hand. “Will you read the letter as well?”

  “If you’d like me to,” I said.

  “I would.” He grinned at me, as if we were suddenly talking about something else altogether. Then he leaned closer and whispered, “Later.”

  I huffed a laugh. He already looked exhausted. And by the way his brothers and cousin were camped out in the front sitting room, I was fairly certain they were planning on being up all night. “Don’t promise what you can’t deliver, sorcerer.”

  He chuckled as we crossed through the hall toward the front sitting room. Khalid closed the French-paned doors and followed behind us.

  A soft buzz drew me from my sleep. Aiden was tucked in beside me, covers half thrown off because he was always warm. I’d been asleep when he finally climbed into bed, murmuring about kicking his brothers and cousin out as he’d quietly paced the bedroom, adding protections to the runes that normally sealed sound within.

  Another soft buzz. From the top of the bureau.

  I slipped out of bed, noting the light beginning to seep in around the edges of the curtains. It was near dawn, which was early this time of year. The number of strangers in the house when I went to bed meant that I was wearing a silk nightie, though I’d gotten into the habit of sleeping naked, as Aiden currently was.

  I touched my thumb to the screen of the phone still connected to its charging cable, revealing a text message from Christopher.

  >What the hell are you doing over there, Socks?

  I laughed quietly.

  “Christopher?” Aiden asked, voice heavy with sleep.

  “Yes.”

  “Are we all going to die at my father’s hands?”

  The question was presumably meant to be playful, but it didn’t come out that way. “Shall I ask?”

  “God, no. I don’t want to see it coming.” He turned to me, eyes bright with his vibrant blue magic. “As long as I’m with you. As long as you are the last thing I get to see, to touch, then I’ll be okay.”

  “But I won’t be okay,” I said gruffly.

  Aiden closed his eyes, sighing. “Sorry. I need more sleep.”

  The phone buzzed with another text.

  > More apple blossoms … I keep getting the rebirth card with a mess of other combinations.

  Christopher had been casting cards. I tried to remember what the apple blossom represented.

  Immortality, healing, good fortune?

  >Yes. Death, transition, inevitability.

  I waited for the clairvoyant to elaborate, as I would if I were standing within the comforting weight of his magic. And as I hung in that space, feeling Aiden’s exhausted gaze on me, I realized that I missed Christopher, my Knox, acutely.

  >If it is possible to be consumed by … peace, benevolence … then that is what appears to be coming your way.

  Why is me being consumed always a thing with you?

  A laughing-face emoticon appeared on the screen.

  >Might not be you. It’s not clear. At all. Might be the distance. Might not be set in stone. A pending proposal?

  Pending. “Did you get the letter sent off to your mother?” I asked Aiden. The brothers had still been going over it word by word when I’d wandered upstairs to bed.

  Aiden grunted. “Yes. Though Isa was even more anal with the wording than normal. On edge.”

  “Wouldn’t you be?”

  “Yes. Are you coming back to bed?” Tucking one arm behind his head, he grinned all sorts of promises at me while his other hand travelled across his chest, down his flat stomach, and beneath the sheets.

  “I thought you were tired.”

  “There’s more than one way to catch up on sleep.”

  The phone buzzed again, pulling my attention away from the sorcerer’s hand underneath the now-tented sheets.

  >Paisley’s back.

  Bee?

  >Samantha’s lead was old. If Bee was here, she’s been gone for at least three months. We tracked down the hotel where we thought she might have been staying, but I didn’t pick up anything from the residual in the room. Between you and me, we might even be on the trail of a different telepath. The power signature feels too dim for Bee. But Paisley seems eager to keep moving.

  I hesitated, fingers hovering over the onscreen keyboard. Then I typed, The sorcerer Azar offered to help find her.

  There was a long pause on Christopher’s end. So long that the screen winked out, leaving me in sudden darkness. A chill ran down my spine.

  “Emma?” Aiden asked, sounding much more alert. “Everything all right?”

  “I’m not sure. Christopher dropped the —”

  A single word appeared on my phone.

  >Fuck.

  >Does he have her?

  I don’t think so. A negotiating tactic.

  >We’re coming back. Today.

  I glanced over at Aiden. His hand was resting on his chest again, not playing under the sheets. His expression was serious. “Christopher wants to come back.”

  Aiden nodded, acknowledging but not necessarily agreeing. “Having Christopher and Samantha here would be …”

  “Dangerous?”

  He laughed. “Most assuredly. But beneficial. For us.”

  “Too much firepower.”

  “And possibly too much of a temptation.”

  Faced with three of us, three of his creations in one place, what would the sorcerer Azar do? Could he stand against us alone? He who knew us so well?

  Eight years ago, Silver Pine had almost managed to take all Five of us at once. She’d had access to our DNA, though, and the hardest hits we’d taken that day had all been from blood-fueled spells.

  I turned my attention back to the phone.

  Wait a little longer. See where Paisley leads you? Finding Bee might be just as important now.

  >The second I see you in danger, I’m coming.

  Okay.

  I started to head back to bed, but then hesitated and picked up the phone again. I wasn’t completely sure what I needed to say, or how to say it. But I was more than just myself now, more than just one of the Five. The Five who each were so powerful alone that they really didn’t need anyone else.

  Knox. If anything should happen to me, I need you, and Samantha, and Bee, and Daniel to look after Opal. And Aiden. And everything, everyone else.

  >It bothers me immensely that you think you even have to ask.

  I’m not asking. I’m telling you.

  >Right. Don’t worry. I’m on mission. As always.

  Don’t let Fish and Samantha just burn it all down.

  >I’m coming home. Now. I never should have left.

  I sighed, glancing up at Aiden. “I’m triggering him.”

  Aiden arched an eyebrow. “Over text? You’re very skilled, amplifier.”

  I laughed.

  Give it 24 hours. Find Bee.

  I waited for a moment, but Christopher didn’t text back. I wasn’t certain how ingrained following orders from me was for the clairvoyant anymore, meaning he might ignore me and return with Samantha. Once I decided I didn’t want the responsibility for the Five, I’d actively tried to not just issue demands. But if Christopher was keeping Samantha informed, the telekinetic would jump at any opportunity to tear Kader Azar limb from limb.

  “It’s a good thing Samantha’s power doesn’t work on flesh and bone,” I muttered, setting down the phone.

  “No?”

  I crossed to the bed. “She can tos
s people around and do terrible things to internal organs, but that’s why she constantly carries small projectiles.”

  “Come closer,” Aiden murmured. “I want you on top of me. I want to be buried deep within you, at your mercy.”

  “That was an abrupt change of subject.”

  “Was it?” He grinned, clasping both hands behind his head and lounging back.

  Avoiding his reach — I knew when a predator was setting up to strike — I snagged the edge of the covers, tugging the fabric away to reveal every last bit of his tanned skin. Thankfully, the room was lightening as dawn approached, so I could see every centimeter. Deliberately eyeing his groin, I smiled. He growled, stirring under my gaze.

  “And shall I be merciful?” I asked teasingly.

  “God, I hope not.”

  I pushed the thin straps of my silk nightie from my shoulders. It fell, catching around my hips.

  “Emma,” Aiden growled.

  “So impatient, sorcerer.” I shimmied my hips until the nightie fell to pool around my feet.

  “Yes,” Aiden stretched out on the bed, shoving all the blankets onto the floor. “Exactly like that, but right here.” He pointed to his groin.

  “So demanding.” I paced toward the bed, climbing over him, deliberately slowly, until I hovered above him.

  His heated gaze raked over me, magic leaking from his eyes. I leaned over, not breaking his gaze as I dragged my nipples up his chest.

  He groaned.

  I paused, my lips barely brushing his. “Tell me about these bonds we share. That Khalid sees between us.”

  He lifted his head, capturing my lips in a kiss. “How about I show you instead?” His hands slid to my hips, gripping gently.

  And instead of responding verbally, I settled onto him. Still undecided as to whether I was going to be merciful or not.

  Chapter 4

  After opening the chicken coop and collecting eggs, I spooned generous amounts of homemade granola into small stoneware bowls while Aiden brewed his first mug of coffee. Christopher had made the granola with honey, almonds, and cranberries, but he wanted to dry our own fruit this fall so he had more options.

  Aiden leaned back against the counter with his arms crossed and head thoughtfully bowed. The sleeves of his navy henley were pushed up, exposing rune-free tanned skin. He hadn’t bothered with socks, though neither had I. We’d slept for about an hour after sex, then showered.

  I splashed some coconut-and-almond milk into the granola and offered Aiden one of the bowls. He took it, along with a spoon, grunting quietly in thanks. Though he’d been playful only a couple of hours earlier in bed, Aiden had been withdrawn from the moment we’d stepped from the bedroom.

  His head snapped up, cranked in the direction of the study. “And so it begins,” he muttered, setting the granola aside without even taking a bite, then striding down the hall. He’d abandoned his coffee as well.

  I followed behind him, savoring spoonfuls of my own granola and totally checking out Aiden’s backside. The henley tightened across his shoulders and biceps, loosening around his tapered waist, and —

  “Emma,” Aiden growled playfully, not turning around.

  “What?” I asked, all innocence. I shoved another spoonful of granola into my mouth.

  “I can feel your magic,” he said, laughing. “Beckoning.”

  “What?” I squeaked, nearly choking on the granola. No one had ever mentioned my magic beckoning them before. But then, I had never looked at anyone like I looked at Aiden.

  He flashed me a grin as he entered the study, but didn’t elaborate.

  I followed to lean in the doorway of the dark, wood-paneled room, mining my bowl for the dregs of my breakfast as Aiden crossed to the desk.

  A thick parchment envelope sealed with light-blue wax was placed in the center of an elaborate cluster of runes — which the sorcerer appeared to have carved into the desktop. Aiden pressed his fingers over the runes in a sequence. “Sorry about the desk. But I had to anchor it to get the magic to open up through the house and property wards.”

  I shrugged. “It’s your desk.”

  Aiden paused. Just paused. Then he turned and looked at me. His hand hovered over the envelope, and his eyes … his expression was so tender. Hopeful.

  “Am I beckoning you again?” I asked, trying to be playful. Otherwise, I was going to have to grab him and take him right there on the fir floor. And we’d just managed to get out of bed. His father was probably going to wander over for breakfast. Plus, the other sorcerers would be showing up at any moment.

  Not to mention that the witches had presumably responded.

  Aiden’s laugh turned into a sigh. “It was a mistake to open my father’s letter.”

  “No.”

  “No?”

  “No.”

  He nodded, then he picked up the new envelope and broke the seal. Opening it, he scanned the contents. “It’s from Sky.”

  The eldest of his half-sisters on his mother’s side. In her early twenties, Sky was pursuing a specialization in charms at the Academy, the UK campus. Specifically, useful spells for household chores, health and wellness, and beauty.

  Aiden looked up, surprised. “They’ve agreed to come.” He paged quickly through the letter. “And Sky has sent preliminary terms.”

  I’d been the one to suggest it. But now that the witches had agreed to that seemingly crazy plan, opening my home — my safe haven — to greater numbers of powerful Adepts who hated each other seemed idiotic.

  That was an emotional reaction, though. So I ignored it. “You’re surprised?”

  “If I were them, I’d let him rot.”

  “That’s not true,” I said quietly. “Otherwise, you never would have opened his letter.”

  Aiden laughed ruefully. “We’ll have to house them here.”

  “How many?”

  He scanned the letter again. “She doesn’t say specifically. Just that they’re on their way. Likely just Sky and Cerise … plus maybe another aunt? Pulling Ocean from school and exposing her to …” Aiden shook his head ruefully. “Exposing her to all of this would be ridiculous.”

  Ocean was Aiden’s youngest half-sister. The eighteen-year-old was also attending the UK Academy, focused on potions — specifically, cosmetic magic. Aiden had mentioned the importance of not getting on her bad side, given that her idea of retribution usually came in the form of sneak attacks that tied her victims to a toilet for hours.

  “And what if it’s the whole coven?”

  “It won’t be.” He grimaced. “All the Myers line are witches of the light. And whatever curse … whatever spell Cerise is using … the strength of it … I don’t even know how she managed to anchor it, to get it past his wards and personal protections.”

  I did. Because I knew how all spells of that magnitude were anchored. In DNA — hair, skin, nails, blood, or bodily fluids. I had four explicit examples of blood binding tattooed on my own spine. But I really didn’t want to mention that if Aiden hadn’t figured it out already.

  Except … that wasn’t who I was with Aiden. We were partners.

  “When was the last time you visited your mother?” I asked quietly.

  He shook his head, reading the letter for a third time. “About a month before I returned here. So five months ago.”

  Kader had been trying to get the letter to Aiden for longer than that. “And before Silver Pine? You were living in Paris?”

  “Yes, temporarily …” He trailed off, slowly raising his head and looking at me, putting the pieces together.

  “Did Cerise seem … normal?” I asked.

  Aiden grimaced, hands falling to his sides, clenching the thick parchment pages of the letter. “Goddamn it.” He took a harsh breath, then exhaled. “I don’t know her well enough to make that sort of assessment, do I?” He started pacing. “She invited me to visit over a year ago. To reconnect. Fuck me.”

  Cerise Myers had used Aiden to get to his father. Though why she would have
done so after waiting so many years was still a mystery. Aiden was an Azar, though. A direct descendent of Kader. Properly handled, his DNA could possibly be used to get to his father. Though I wouldn’t have normally thought that a witch from a coven known for delicate, precise magic would be casting a spell of that magnitude. At least not successfully.

  “You would have noticed if it was blood,” I said.

  Aiden rolled his shoulders and neck, trying to rein himself in. But magic poured from him, inadvertently unleashed in anger and frustration, thrumming across the floor. “I was in Paris for months. She could have collected hair and fingernail clippings. Months and months’ worth.” He laughed, pained. “And I was with family, wasn’t I? No need to take extra precautions —”

  He cut off abruptly and strode toward the door, passing me and getting all the way out into the hall before I figured out where he was going — to the bathroom, to clean up any possible DNA.

  “I’ve done it already.”

  My whisper stopped him. His shoulders were rigid, hands fisted at his sides.

  “When?” he asked without looking at me.

  “After our shower this morning, when you came down to start the coffee. I burned it all,” I said, keeping my tone steady. “If Paisley were here full time, we wouldn’t have to worry about it. I can never convince her to stop eating our hair and fingernail clippings. It’s the used Kleenex she likes the best.”

  Aiden bowed his head, shoulders shaking slightly. I wasn’t sure if he was laughing or losing his mind.

  “This family stuff is seriously complicated,” I said.

  Aiden turned to face me. “I do it by rote when cleaning, but …”

  Christopher did most of the cleaning when he was home. Or me, if I was bored or feeling useless. Aiden most often cleaned up after meals, but he always left the bathrooms and other rooms to the two of us.

  “I’m such an idiot. I’ve been here for months. I knew what inviting my father through the wards meant, and I …” He clenched his teeth, shaking his head.

  I closed the space between us, placing my hand on the center of his chest. His emotions welled under my touch, battering my senses. I blinked, steadying myself. “You’re in your own home.”