by May Dawson
“I might be an idiot when it comes to magic,” I say, “But I know when people are lying.”
“What the hell did you do?” Mycroft mutters in Airren’s general direction.
Airren crosses his arms over his chest. “Hey, it’s good for you to open up.”
“I think we should all do the spell,” I say. “And then I can finally get some answers from you all.”
Cax sits on the edge of the table too, his shoulder bumping against mine as if to comfort me. He smiles down at me. “I already gave you answers. Remember?”
“But there’s more,” I say. “You have magic you shouldn’t. I don’t know much, but I do remember the rules about what you can and can’t learn. I learned some warrior magic, but come on, look how I grew up. Lot of good it does me! I don’t know anything now.”
Airren’s eyes turn to Cax fast, and Cax raises his hands in a placating gesture. “I had to keep her safe, right? We were jumped by a couple of guys with a grudge.”
“I don’t want you to hit people any more than you have to, Cax,” I say. “If it comes up again. I would have killed that man from Avalon back then if I could, but now it’s different. Now that I know you won’t let me get hurt.”
Airren’s eyes are a deep, chilly blue in his anger, etched with hard lines. He looks scary, but for once, no one is angry at me.
I rest my head on Cax’s shoulder, and his arm closes around my waist automatically. His shoulder is warm and he smells like licorice. I muse out loud, “It’s nice not being all alone in the world.”
“For the love of God, stop talking,” Mycroft growls. “I can’t focus.”
“Just block her out,” Cax says. “Like you do me all the time when I’m trying to tell you something important.”
“Who’s this man from Avalon that you keep talking about?” Airren’s voice is low and dangerous.
“It feels like he’s the man who took my magic,” I say. “But that’s not right. My magic didn’t work Earthside anyway, right?”
“I need my kit.” Mycroft stands.
Airren moves in to replace him, bracing one hand on either side of my hips. “What do you know about him? I’ll get your magic back.”
I rest my hand on the side of his hard-lined face. “You look murderous like that, you know? How many people have you killed?”
He presses his palm over my hand, holding me against his face. “I’m not under a spell, princess.”
“You could be honest with me anyway,” I say.
“I could,” he admits, and then says nothing more.
Mycroft comes back with his kit. He shoulders Airren aside, and tells Cax, “For once, could you give me space?”
“We should talk about what happened anyway,” Airren says, his voice still carrying a note of danger, and Cax groans.
“Don’t be mad at him!” I call as the two men step outside the room. “I like him!”
“We all know,” Stelly says, her voice rich with humor.
When they’ve all gone, Mycroft says shortly, “I was a medic. Before I went Intel.”
“So that’s where you became like a doctor,” I say.
“I wish,” he says. “Maybe I could have saved more lives during the Savage Night.”
I stare down at him, at his broad shoulders and bent heads as he works on my knee. His magic floods into my kneecap, hot and liquid, and strangely my toes curl, my core tightening.
“You don’t want to tell me about it,” I say.
“You sure your magic doesn’t work? Feels like you’re a psychic.” He glances up at me, his fingers sunk deep in my knee. The sight makes my head spin, and for a second, I think I’m going to be sick.
He looks back down as if he can’t meet my eyes when he makes the offer. “But later—when you’re sober—if you’ll tell me about the man from Avalon? I’ll tell you about the Savage Night.”
“Trade pain for pain,” I say. “We’ll bond.”
His eyes meet mine, but I can’t read his expression.
“You’re killing me, blondie,” he says.
“I’m killing you? Your thumbs are literally inside my flesh right now.”
There’s a soft snap.
“That would have hurt a lot, huh?” I ask.
“Quite.” He pats the inside of my calf, leaving a slick print of blood. “You’re going to be all right.”
“That is highly doubtful,” I tell him. “At least in the greater sense of things.”
He stands, towering over me again, and reaches for a towel from his kit to wipe my blood from his hands. He’s so near me, but we don’t touch. I can feel his heat coming off his body and smell the faint scent of his aftershave. This spell seems to heighten all my senses, too.
“I’m all right,” he tells me. “In the greater sense of things.”
“But once you weren’t,” I fill in the blanks.
“Once I wasn’t,” he confirms. “So, you should trust me.”
“I do,” I say. “Which is really terrifying. What am I going to do when you leave me?”
He leans in close though he still doesn’t touch me. When he whispers, his breath stirs my hair. “Maybe I won’t leave.”
I pitch my voice low when I mimic him. “Not interested, sister.”
“Well.” His voice takes on a teasing note. “Like Airren said. I’m not under the influence of any spell.”
“So you did lie to me.”
“I wouldn’t call it a lie.” His lips nuzzle the top of my ear, his jaw brushing against my hair. “I don’t answer questions people shouldn’t ask.”
“Even with Cax?”
His crooked forefinger slides under my chin, and he raises my jaw slightly, meeting my eyes evenly. “Especially with Cax.”
“Why?” I ask.
“That’s the easiest mystery to solve.” His lips quirk up slightly. “And you could use an easy win. We have quite a few mysteries to face down.”
“Yes!” I clap my hands together.
Mycroft busies himself bandaging my knee, but I rattle on anyway. “The truth-serum part of this won’t make it any harder to name names. Oh—except that there are parts of what I saw that I really don’t want to talk about.”
I frown, because that’s not the ideal thing to tell someone when you’re trying desperately to keep a few secrets.
But at least it’s only Mycroft in the room. He bandages my knee without any comment.
I’m profoundly relieved by that, which leads me to blurt out, “Why aren’t you asking me about them?”
“I want you to tell me about them when you’re ready,” he says.
“You’ll have to stick around for a long time,” I mutter.
He rips tape with his teeth and rubs his thumb firmly over my thigh and calf, sealing the bandages. Then he straightens, standing between my parted legs.
“Okay,” he says quietly. It’s been so long since I last spoke that it takes me a second to realize what he’s responding to. By the time I understand, he’s already moved to the door.
“Let’s get to work,” Mycroft says briskly, his tone so different from a minute ago. “Keep our broken girl over here from having to hobble off to jail.”
“I don’t like anything about that,” I mutter. Then I feel compelled to add, “Except for the our girl.”
God damn it.
“When is this curse going to wear off?” I demand of no one in particular.
“I like it,” Cax says.
“You would,” says Mycroft.
Chapter 24
We spend most of the night cross-referencing my father’s cronies. I glance at the board through blurry eyes. “Wait. Do you have Wilt Canaghan marked as alive?”
“No one’s seen him, but there’s no evidence of his death,” Airren says. “Maybe he’s one of the lucky ones who made it to Viskar.”
Viskar is a country to the north with a shady magician problem and their arms open to more.
“I wouldn’t call spending your life in Viskar luc
ky,” Cax says. “They can’t even import coffee beans. Just evil motherfuckers.”
“Wilt is dead,” I say flatly. “My fa—Donovan thought he was stealing from him. He stuffed him in a frenzy box and left him there.”
“Those are real?” Cax asks.
I shiver, and Airren rests his hand on my shoulder. “All right, we’ll cross off Wilt, then. If you saw him…”
Mycroft shoots him a look.
Cax turns and crosses the name off the board. “We’re all exhausted. Let’s get some rest tonight. The girls have class in the morning.”
“Don’t we all have class in the morning?” Stelly asks.
“Technically,” Cax says, at the same time as Airren says, “Yes.”
“How’s your knee?” Mycroft asks.
I stand from my chair uncertainly. My knee is stiff but it bends without giving out. “Sore. But I can walk.”
“You don’t have to, though.” Cax promises.
“Is the spell wearing off, then?” Mycroft glances at the clock.
“Let’s keep Tera home from class today anyway,” Airren says. “Just in case she’s feeling especially honest. I’ll let her teachers know she’s come down with something.”
“Yes,” I say. “How about I’m sick for two days? Possibly contagious?”
“You’d think you didn’t like it here,” Cax deadpans.
The five of us head out of the room. Airren locks the doors carefully behind us, then uses a spell to seal the door. I limp up the stairs, feeling the boys’ impatience and how they barely hold themselves back from sweeping me off my feet again. I’ve been walking for seventeen years now; it would be nice if they had a little more faith in my competence in the skill.
Rawl House is quiet. The coffee stand in the corner is dark. When we head up to the second floor, Mycroft says firmly to Airren, “My room.”
“She’s my responsibility,” Airren says.
Cax shakes his head. “She’s all of ours.”
“She’s her own,” I trill, but I swear no one’s listening.
Then Cax catches me around the waist, his lips brushing close to my ear. “Of course you are, but we all like having you nearby.”
I raise an eyebrow at him. He shrugs like it’s a mystery to him too.
Stelly bounces up the stairs in front of us, stopping on the landing to turn back with a yawn. “Good night, oddballs.”
“Good night, brat,” Cax says, without missing a beat, like he’s said it for the last fifteen years or so.
This time when Mycroft unlocks the door to his room, Cax and Airren follow me in.
“She can sleep with me.” Cax is already kicking his shoes off.
“Please,” Airren says. “You’re the least trust-worthy of all of us.”
“I think Mycroft is the most trust-worthy,” I say, “Since he’s the only one who hasn’t kissed me yet.”
I frown. Maybe the spell hasn’t quite worn off.
Airren rolls his eyes and swears as suddenly all eyes in the room swivel to him.
“Oh really?” A grin spreads across Cax’s face. Clearly, he isn’t jealous. Maybe he’s amused to see straightlaced, alpha Airren break the rules.
“You kissed her too.” Airren’s voice is accusatory.
“Sometimes, the best defense is not a good offense, brother.” Cax claps him on the shoulder.
“You and Mycroft sleep together all the time. I’m the odd man out, I should share the bed with the girl.” Airren puts a hand on his lower back, stretching with surprising dramatic flair. “I’m also the old man. If someone were to sleep on the floor, it wouldn’t be me, Cax.”
“It’s my own room!” Cax protests.
“You two are roommates?” I glance back and forth between Mycroft and Cax. Cax’s chatter drives Mycroft to distraction. Interesting. I look up at Cax’s questionable wall art in an entirely different way. “Did you paint these? Wait, you sleep together?”
But Mycroft doesn’t answer me. He’s suddenly moving the furniture; he pushes one full-sized bed from one corner of the room, then drags the other one over. When the two beds are together, he stands back. “There. Nothing left to talk about. We can get some damn sleep.”
“I still want to talk about Airren kissing Tera, actually,” Cax says. “After the lectures…”
Mycroft rolls his eyes. In a few quick strides, he’s over at my side. “Tera. Do you want to sleep or do you want to listen to Cax antagonize Airren for the next hour?”
“Well,” I say, “I would love to hear the antagonizing, but I’d like to save it for the morning. Maybe over breakfast?”
Mycroft’s hands settle on my hips. I stare up at him, my lips parting in surprise; his big hands span my hips and send sparks tingling through my body.
“Then, can I kiss you?” he asks, his voice low and deep. “Make it even, so there’s nothing to talk about?”
“If that’s why, then—” I start to say, and his lips come down on mine.
Mycroft’s lips are broad and soft, like twin pillows, and only that softness keeps his kiss from being bruising. He kisses me hard, but not hard like he’s clumsy—hard like he can’t keep his passion from springing to the surface for once. Hard like he wants me. Hard like his hands, which are tightening around my hips, his fingers sinking into my ass, each one as individual and hot as a brand.
I slide a hand up his chiseled pecs, his broad shoulders, and up his powerful neck. My fingernails slide against his hair and sink into his neck as I hold him there, kissing him back just as hard.
His lips part against mine. My lips open in response to the invitation. When I draw his lower lip into my mouth, he breathes the softest groan into my mouth in response. His tongue slides against the edge of my teeth. My core tightens in response. As my tongue presses against his, the tips of our tongues dance together.
“All right, all right,” Airren says, his voice rough. “I think we’re even.”
I stare at Mycroft as he lets go of me. The faintest smile turns up one corner of his mouth.
“You’re a damn liar,” I tell him. Not interested, sister.
He shrugs. “Time will tell.”
I’m still shaking my head at him as I turn and head for the connected bathroom. “Ladies first.”
“She certainly seems to be getting comfortable with us,” Cax says evenly, just before I close the door on them.
“Don’t take a shower!” Mycroft calls after me. “I’m not untying your bandages until morning. I don’t want them wet.”
Perhaps they’re under some kind of spell themselves, acting oddly just as I was earlier in the night. I splash water over my face. It’s not like it’s unheard of in Avalon for unusual families to form, a mix of several men and women, or often one woman and several men. When you live with magic every day, you open up to the possibilities beyond the ordinary.
But still. For me to believe that was possible, I’d have to believe they truly saw me as someone beside Tera Donovan. When they’re trying to help me avoid being the subject of a murder investigation, well, that must be hard to forget.
That kiss with Mycroft made me giddy, but I’m entirely sober again as I dry my face. “Someone bring me a t-shirt?” I call through the door.
A few seconds later, there’s a soft knock on the door. I expect it to be Cax, for some reason, but it’s Mycroft who passes me a soft, worn t-shirt that’s about five sizes too big through the crack in the door. I pull it on, breathing in the lavender scent deep in its fabric.
They’ve already all seen my panties, so I leave my jeans folded on the sink and attempt to sashay back in.
Mycroft looks up for the bed, where he’s reading a paperback, and says, “It does not look like my handiwork is holding up well.”
“Yeah, are you okay?” Airren frowns at me with worried eyes.
Sashay is what I’m going for, but I’ve spent the last five years trying to be invisible, I’m a wee bit on the socially awkward side, and I’ve twisted my knee. Maybe I
was being optimistic.
“Just user error,” I say, which leaves them looking even more perplexed, and I shake my head. “Sorry. I thought I was all over Airren’s wicked little spell, but my inside thoughts keep seeping out anyway.”
“Come sleep it off.” Airren sits on the edge of the bed as if he’s inviting me. He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and then straightens back up.
“You are intensely uncomfortable here, aren’t you?” I ask.
He holds up his forefinger and thumb, hovering half an inch apart, before he lifts his glass water bottle to his lips.
Mycroft and Cax are close enough to want to share a room, and Mycroft and Airren are like brothers. I’m jealous that they’ll always have each other, or that they’re trying to, at least.
“So, you’re going to go into the Marines too?” I ask Cax. I sit daintily beside Airren, then lean back and topple over, because I don’t want to put any pressure on my knee. “So all of you can hang out forever?”
Airren chokes on his water when I say the word forever.
Cax leans over to pound him on the back. He says matter-of-factly, “Yep.”
Then Cax lies down with his head on Mycroft’s shoulder. I stare at them for a second—Cax seems comfortable, his blond lashes resting on his high-boned cheeks—and Mycroft doesn’t look up from his page.
“Oh,” I say. “Oh!”
“It’s just sex,” Mycroft says.
Cax punches the side of Mycroft’s rock-hard abs, which also doesn’t merit Mycroft lifting his eyes off the page, apparently.
“It’s not just sex,” Cax says.
“So you’re…” I trail off.
“Bisexual,” Cax says. “Who isn’t?”
Mycroft sighs. “We’ve been through this.”
“You’ve got some really weird art,” I tell Cax.
“I make it myself,” he says. “Maybe I’ll sketch you sometime.”
Mycroft grunts. “Yeah. That’d be great. A nice poster-sized Tera staring down at us during the rare quiet moments that don’t revolve around her…”
“I want a Mycroft poster,” I say. “I bet you already have some.”
“He doesn’t want me to hang them up,” Cax confides in me.
