Frenetic (Arcane Mage Series Book 4)

by T. S. Snow

  How fucked up was that?

  I didn’t know how to feel.

  Okay, that wasn’t entirely true. I felt really fucking jealous.

  I wanted Char with every fiber of my being, but I wanted her all to myself.

  I’d had some time to think about her…proposal, and I’d been pretty confident I’d refuse it. The idea of being the other man didn’t sit right with me. Even though Char had said her boyfriend didn’t mind, I couldn’t wrap my head around the idea of any guy not minding his girl having sex with other people.

  Still, I’d seen proof of the fact with my own two eyes.

  Well, I’d seen the aftermath, but even more than the fact they’d clearly all had sex, it was the easy affection between Andres, Char, and the Bastille guy that truly boggled my mind.

  Char hadn’t been lying, after all. I just didn’t know if that made things better or worse.

  Before he’d left, Andres had whispered in my ear, telling me that I could have that too, if I wanted it. And I didn’t think he’d just been talking about sex.

  I wanted to grab Char, lock us in a room, and ask her why. Why had she not waited for me to explain myself before carrying on with her life? Why had she picked Andres, of all people? But most of all…why couldn’t she just pick me and me alone?

  Why couldn’t I be enough?

  However, I had a feeling I knew the answer, even if I didn’t want to acknowledge it.

  Char was happy.

  And she was in love with them—both of them. It was in the way she had leaned on her boyfriend’s arm for support, in the way her eyes had sought both of them, and every time they weren’t looking, her smile would be just a bit brighter. It was in the dreamy look she had, even as she was rolling her eyes at Andres’ antics, and in the way every time she caught Andres looking at her, she would blush.

  Char shifted her weight from one foot to another. “Listen, Blaze, for what it’s worth, I’m, uh…I’m sorry. Not that, like, it happened or anything. We didn’t hurt anyone, and we were all willing partners.” She gesticulated a lot while she spoke, which was one of the bigger tells that she was nervous…or uncomfortable. “Anyway, I digress. What I meant was, I am sorry you had to…uh, see this. I… It was never my intention to flaunt my relationship with them in front of you. Not that, like, I was planning on hiding it or anything. But maybe tell you instead of…showing it. Anyway. Yeah. I just wanted to say sorry.”

  She finished with a grimace, putting her thumbs in the front pockets of her jeans, as if bracing herself for my answer.

  Except…there really wasn’t anything for me to say.

  Oh, there was plenty I wished I could say, but they were all selfish thoughts.

  Char deserved better, so I forced a smile on my face. “You seem happy,” I commented, watching as her eyes sparkled and the tips of her lips tilted up.

  “I am. They…they make me happy,” she admitted, and then she looked at me earnestly, and I could all but see what she was thinking.

  The same thing Andres had suggested.

  That I could make her happy too. So long as I learned to accept the lifestyle.

  Except, I couldn’t. If for no other reason, than because an Illudere and a Futhark could never share a woman. It was our job, as heirs, to ensure succession occurred. I had no idea how Andres was planning on getting around the fact that if Char ever got pregnant, the child might be either his or belong to some other guy. Unless that Bastille guy was also an Illusionist, then that would make things even more complicated. I’d heard rumors of other mages who liked this more…alternative lifestyle, but none of them were heirs. None of them had to carry the family name to ensure some other mage didn’t take charge.

  I ran a hand through my hair, which I was sure was beginning to look like I’d been electrocuted. “I don’t think I can give you what you want, Char,” I confessed, watching the hope fade from her eyes. “I…I wish I could. I wish I could be everything you want, everything you need, and more. Be a team player, or whatever the term is. But I won’t stand in the way. I won’t try to force you to choose. More than anything, I just want you to be happy.”

  Goddess, this was killing me.

  Char gave me a teary smile, and I almost caved.

  I almost said I’d give it a try. Just to see her happy again.

  “I understand. I…I hope we can still be friends. I know it’s asking for a lot, but I really do like you, Blaze. I’d love it if we could still be friends at least,” she said.

  I closed my eyes. Every single organ in my body was revolting. My heart hurt like there were needles being used to pierce it little by little. My stomach was clenching and seizing. I felt like I was trying to swallow lead.

  “Sure,” I bit out, forcing my mouth to open and say the words, even if every piece of me rejected the idea.

  Being friends meant I couldn’t have Charisma as my own.

  Being friends meant I’d have to watch her be with other men, knowing I could’ve been one of them but I’d turned her down.

  Being friends meant I’d have to somehow find a way to fall out of love with her, even while I continued to see her, to hear her voice.

  Being friends meant I’d get to see Char being happy, knowing I wasn’t the reason for her happiness.

  “We can be friends,” I finished at last, hating myself for it.

  Char beamed at me and opened her mouth to say something, but her phone rang.

  “Sorry,” she mumbled, grabbing it from her back pocket and walking away so she could answer it.

  I used that opportunity to leave.

  Yes, it was cowardly, but I didn’t know what I’d end up doing if I stayed.

  28

  Theo

  My stomach growled.

  I was so damn hungry, I could probably eat a whole cow. I opened my eyes, intending on getting out of bed to get something to eat, when I realized the ceiling I was looking at wasn’t the one I woke up to every morning.

  In fact, this was barely a room at all. Instantly awake, I sat up on the floor and looked around in confusion.

  A cell.

  I was inside a cell straight out of a movie. Cold concrete floors, walls, and ceiling, thick bars, and nothing but a small cot and a toilet. The only light in the place came from a barred window high up. Thankfully, there was enough daylight spilling in here to allow me to see my surroundings. To make things worse, there was the constant sound of dripping water coming from somewhere to my left.

  What the actual fuck?

  Someone groaned from the far corner of the cell, and I pushed myself to my feet to see who, or what, was there.

  My body was sore from sleeping on the floor, and my head was fucking killing me, but I didn’t think I’d been seriously injured. Now, if I could just remember how I’d ended up in jail, and why…

  I took three steps before the other person in the cell with me came into view. In the dingy light, I was able to see a bloody dark-haired guy trying to sit up. He was right below the window, and still, it took me a minute to realize who was stuck here with me.

  Nightshade.

  His clothes were torn to shreds, and his hair was standing on end like a Super Saiyan, except for the fact his hair was black not blond.

  What the fuck happened?

  All I remembered was going with Nightshade to investigate the address his dead PI had given us and freeing the ghosts that had been stuck there.

  “Logan?” I asked, rushing to him. I tried to help him to a sitting position with his back against the wall.

  The fact he accepted my help without protest told me more about how fucked up he was than his appearance…and that was saying a lot because he looked like he’d been put through a meat grinder.

  “Where are we?” he asked, his voice raspy, though whether from abuse or disuse, I didn’t know.

  Probably a bit of both, all things considered.

  “I don’t know, some kind of cell. I was actually, uh…kind of hoping you’d know. All I rememb
er was freeing the ghosts that were trapped in that rundown building, and then nothing.” It was bothering me to no end that I didn’t know.

  Logan winced. “I think we did come across a resistance building. And it wasn’t empty, either. When I put down the wards, it must’ve warned them. They came down on us with guns blazing. There were approximately twenty of them, but I had it under control until… They had an EMP generator.”

  “They had an EMP generator? But those are…” I started, shocked, but Logan knew where I was going.

  “I know, and yes, it killed all the METs in the room, even theirs. Then they managed to overrun me with their guns until my magic was exhausted. I thought they were going to kill us,” he admitted.

  Shit.

  He wasn’t saying it, but I was pretty sure I’d been the reason he got caught. Even without his MET, Nightshade had a lot of magic. Even among the heirs, he had enough to probably win against…all of us.

  Not that I’d ever admit it to him.

  But what didn’t make sense was why the resistance would want to hold both the Nightshade and the Soulbinder heirs prisoner. It didn’t seem to fit their usual MO of destruction and death.

  What was their end goal?

  Logan was quiet for a moment, and then he spoke again. This time, I could feel an undercurrent of panic in his voice. “Have you tried using your magic?” he asked me.

  “Not yet, hang on,” I said, and then closed my eyes. It took me less than a second to open them again.

  “It’s not there! I can’t feel it at all.”

  No.

  This couldn’t be.

  I could deal with being stuck in a cell, but not being able to access my magic?

  My magic had always been with me, since I was a little kid. It was as much a part of me as the red hair.

  “Shit,” Nightshade cursed, raising a hand to run it over his hair. “They must’ve drugged us with something that’s preventing us from feeling our magic. We won’t be able to rely on it to get out of here.”

  The sound of footsteps had us both turning to face the bars.

  Nightshade tried to stand up, but I ended up having to support half his weight so he could actually stay upright.

  The sound got louder as the footsteps grew closer, and then a guy came up to the bars.

  In his late thirties, with brown hair and brown eyes, he’d be just a random dude, if not for the fact that he was standing outside of our cell…and he was smiling.

  There was something wrong about that smile, something twisted.

  It sent a shiver down my spine, and had me searching my pockets for my MET.

  Except, they were completely empty.

  “You didn’t really think we’d let you two keep something you could use as a weapon, did you? For the heir of one of the scariest Arcane families, you’re quite dense,” the stranger mocked.

  “What do you want?” Nightshade asked from beside me, pushing me away so he could stand on his own.

  Well, fine. If he wanted to fall on his ass, that was his prerogative.

  The man never stopped smiling. “Oh, there are many things I want. None of them from you.”

  Frustrated, I walked closer to the bars. Maybe if he got close enough, I could grab him by his shirt and knock him down.

  Even if it wasn’t helpful, it would make me feel better.

  I’d barely taken three steps when the man raised his hand, showing me a small remote-looking MET, and pressed a button.

  Suddenly, my body started to shake as an electric current passed through me, but it only lasted a few seconds.

  “Now now, let’s not try anything stupid, okay? I’d hate to put this at a higher setting and truly cause damage.” The way he said it made it seem like he’d love nothing but for one of us to try to test him and suffer the consequences.

  Fucking sadist.

  “What did you do to our magic?” Logan barked the question from behind me. One look over my shoulder showed he hadn’t suffered the same fate I had.

  I didn’t know yet if that was a good thing or a bad one.

  Stop. Think. Assess the situation, Theodore, I told myself.

  I had to remain calm and in control. Being imprisoned wasn’t that big of a deal, so long as we could get the fuck out of here.

  Well, that wasn’t true. Being imprisoned was a big deal. But I’d find a way to get us out of here.

  The fact that the man in front of us had used his magic at least told me the room itself wasn’t somehow jamming our powers, but that Logan’s theory that we had been drugged truly was right. Drugs that could temporarily snuff someone’s magic were rare, and they didn’t last long. So long as we didn’t eat or drink anything, we should be able to blast our way out of here tomorrow.

  Great. Not like I was starving already or anything.

  Instead of answering Nightshade’s question, the man looked at his watch.

  “As much as I’d love to stay and chat with you two, there’s something I need to do. Don’t worry, though, we’ll get rid of you two soon enough.”

  He turned to leave.

  “Do you know who we are? Once we get out of here, we’re going to destroy you,” Logan yelled, threatening.

  He sounded pissed.

  I wanted to be pissed too, but I couldn’t afford that luxury. One of us had to keep a cool head, and Logan didn’t seem like he’d be the one to do it.

  “Oh, we know exactly who you are, Fuckshade. It just so happens, we don’t care.”

  And with that, he walked away, ignoring Logan’s threats and curses.

  I ignored him too and walked to the window.

  Maybe if I could just see where we were, once I had my magic back, I could find some ghosts to help us out.

  I could pass on a message to my family, and they’d wreck this place up in no time.

  There was no stopping the Soulbinders.

  29

  Charisma

  After the mother of all awkward conversations with Blaze, he left without saying goodbye while I was on the phone giving Christian an update. Then again, had I really just asked the guy who’d admitted to having feelings for me to be my friend after he’d seen me walking out of a room where I’d fucked two guys at the same time? Well, not at the same time, but he hadn’t known that.

  Had I been high?

  Anyway, after that, I’d gone in search of Bast and he drove us home, where we snuggled for a post-orgasmic midday nap.

  I knew there was still a lot I needed to do. I had to face Jess, I had to continue to work to find the resistance, to find their leader, and stop his hate from spreading, but those were all things I’d do tomorrow.

  For today, I’d bask in Andres’ victory and the fact I now had two very yummy, very amazing boyfriends.

  Today was a day for naps, and then hopefully, some more of the whole sexing and orgasming thing.

  Bast had been the first to fall asleep, and I was just lying with my head on top of his shoulder, listening to the rhythmic sound of his breathing while I thought.

  I wanted to develop a MET for Bast. I’d mentioned it before, but I wanted to enjoy the small lull in the crazy to actually follow through on my offer. There were a lot of things I still didn’t know about Necromancy, things I wanted to learn, but I figured a basic MET with some Elemental and Illusion spells couldn’t hurt.

  I’d developed Logan’s, Andres’, and even Blair’s METs. It was about time I did Bast’s too. He’d probably take a while to get used to it, since as a Necromancer, he’d never used one, but I was confident it would change his life for the better.

  Bast started to snore softly, and I smiled, remembering the one time I’d jokingly said his low snoring was the best kind of lullaby. As if to prove past me right, my eyelids started to feel heavy. Hmmm…maybe I could make his MET a joystick. That would be funny. Plus, he was familiar enough with a joystick that it might be the easiest hardware for him to acclimate to.

  I fell asleep and dreamed of an army of zombies being
controlled by Bast and his joystick. Except whenever he pressed X for them to jump, only their heads would be lifted. If he tried for a double jump, then the zombie heads would fly and do a full three hundred and sixty turn before falling back on the zombie’s body. As if that hadn’t been bad enough, whenever he tried to use an attack, a giant zombie hand would materialize out of nowhere and knock the living out, turning them into zombies too.

  Suddenly, the zombies turned to me. They held me steady, rotting arms tightening around me even as I struggled to break free.

  “Nooo, I don’t want to turn into a zombie too. I don’t like brains,” I whined, desperately trying to break free of their hold.

  One of the zombies opened its mouth, but the voice that came out was familiar.

  “Char, beautiful, it’s me—Andres. Wake up. You’re having a nightmare.” My eyes flew open, and I turned to face the voice.

  Lying on his side in front of me was Andres.

  Living, breathing Andres.

  Warm-bodied, handsome Andres.

  Somehow, while I’d slept, Bast had gotten up and Andres had taken his place. His arms were the ones around me, not a zombie’s.

  I blinked.

  “How long have I been asleep?”

  Andres gave me a soft smile. “About two hours? I got here an hour ago. Bast was awake, so I joined you two in bed. He got a text about half an hour ago, and went out to see Gran. You were sleeping so peacefully, we didn’t want to wake you. Though I am curious about the zombies and eating brains,” he said, sounding amused.

  I wanted to bury my head in his chest. His very perfect, very naked chest.

  Looked like I wasn’t the only one who liked to sleep sans clothes. Although, I was wearing a shirt. And panties.

  “Nope. I’m not going to tell you. Let’s just say I’ve been playing way too many post-apocalyptic video games and leave it at that.”

  No way was I going to talk about the dream in detail and have Andres mock me for it. Nope. I’d learned to never talk about my weird as hell dreams a long time ago.