by Allie Therin
Jade tilted her head at the empty air. “He says he’ll get himself home.” She grinned. “Or at least to Harlem.”
Rory furrowed his brow. “Harlem’s not on the way to Chinatown.”
“You are tired. In you get.” Arthur scooted in behind Rory in the back seat, and caught a glimpse of gold on his finger.
“So the relic’s bound to you now,” he said quietly, as Jade climbed into the passenger seat and Mrs. Brodigan got behind the wheel.
Rory took a sharp breath. “Didn’t think of that.” He held out his hand. His left hand, where the ring glinted on his fourth finger. “It oughta go right back in its box. No one should be walking ’round King of the Wind.”
King of the Wind. A twenty-year-old asylum escapee. Only slightly terrifying and, strangely enough, not entirely unattractive. Arthur pushed the thought away and pulled out the lead-lined ring box as Rory took the ring off.
Arthur tucked it away in his pocket as Mrs. Brodigan fired up the engine, his gaze lingering on Rory. Gwen had called Rory’s link in his aura magic chains in Arthur’s heart. But chains were cold, and despite his wet clothes and the icy wind, Arthur’s bones were warm, like he’d been soaking up the sun on a Mediterranean beach.
Rory leaned into him, his body a welcome weight. His teeth were chattering, but his voice was meltingly sincere as he said, “You got me out.” His eyes were full of wonder, like Arthur’d hung the night’s full moon. “I’m so glad I found you, Ace.”
Ace’s throat tightened. “Me too, Teddy,” he said quietly.
* * *
Rory couldn’t fight his heavy eyes and fell asleep to the lulling movement of the car, his head on Arthur’s lap. He vaguely woke as Arthur half supported, half carried him into the elevator and then into the apartment. “I feel like I went ten rounds with a gorilla.”
“I think you’re allowed to be tired. You just fought the ocean and won.”
The shower’s hot water was heaven against his icy skin. Rory leaned heavily against the tiled wall and tried to open his eyes enough to see Ace’s blurry figure through the spray. “Last time we were in a shower, I got you to do something more interesting than wash my hair.”
“You’ve got sand on your scalp and you’re nearly falling over.” Arthur’s hands were gentle as he worked lather through Rory’s curls. “So I’m ignoring all your come-ons and putting your paranormal arse to bed.”
There were soft pajamas, too big, and then Rory was diving under the covers with a groan of gratitude. “Luce dei miei occhi,” he mumbled as Arthur slid in behind him. “Shoulda called you light of my aura.”
“You’re the one in my aura, apparently.” Arthur was big and warm against him as an arm wrapped around his waist. “We’ll talk about it in the morning. Sleep now, Teddy.”
Rory closed his eyes and instantly fell into a dreamless sleep.
* * *
When he woke, he was alone.
He sat up slowly, rubbing his temple. Geez, it was just like that first night he’d woken up in Arthur’s bed right down to the headache and humiliation. He’d stolen Arthur’s pajamas, made himself right at home in Arthur’s pad—
But then, he’d apparently made himself at home in Arthur’s aura.
Rory winced. He hadn’t even asked before he’d staked his magic claim. The link was still inside him now, when he reached for it; a lifeline he wanted to clutch with both hands.
But Rory wasn’t gonna chain Arthur with magic, no matter how much his heart liked being anchored to the present. Anchored to Arthur.
But how the hell was he going to break that link when he didn’t even know how he’d done it?
He felt around on the nightstand until his hand closed on his glasses. He made himself push the warm blankets off and get out of the soft bed, hoping the waiter’s uniform had been left on the bathroom floor. It was probably still wet, cold, and full of sand, but he couldn’t keep helping himself to Arthur’s stuff.
He padded on quiet feet down the hall, past the opening to the parlor, on his way to the bathroom—
“Christ, that’s just as distracting the second time.”
Rory jumped. “Ace!”
Arthur was in the parlor, in a navy dressing gown over pajamas, tall frame stretched out along the settee as he eyed Rory over the top of his newspaper. “You in my clothes is too much to take.”
“I’m looking for my clothes,” said Rory. “I’m gonna give your pajamas back.”
“Don’t you dare.”
Rory didn’t actually want to give anything back, not the pajamas, not Arthur’s aura. He wrapped his arms around himself, balling the soft flannel in his fists. “So about last night,” he made himself start.
“Oh yes. I have news.” It seemed to take Arthur some effort to look away. “I’ve heard from Jade and Zhang this morning. The ship with the relic’s intended buyers docked this morning. Baron Zeppler was on the passenger list, but he never boarded.”
Rory furrowed his brow. “Someone tipped him off about Gwen’s trap?”
“Intentional or not,” said Arthur. “It’s very difficult to keep anything secret from a telepath. The other German buyers took a train to Boston this morning, but we’ll watch them. And we’ll have to find a way to recover the amulet, but for now, the tide has swept it out into the bay.”
He put the newspaper on the side table. “As for Gwen and Ellis, Pavel’s final potion appears to have caused teleportation. One of Zhang’s contacts spotted them just outside of the city but lost the trail when they stole a car. We suspect they’ll head for another port city, perhaps Philadelphia. Jade and Zhang are looking into it.”
“Teleportation.” Rory shivered. “Geez, that Pavel kid is something else.”
“He’s a marvel.” Arthur raised an eyebrow. “Then again, it’s apparently my good fortune to be the dullest person I know, because you’re not exactly boring yourself.”
Rory’s fears came rushing right back. “I’m sorry ’bout your aura,” he blurted. “I didn’t mean to and I don’t know how to fix it. But maybe I can yank myself out if I go real far away—”
“Is that what you want?” Arthur said quietly. “To be far away from me?”
“No,” Rory said immediately. “Hell no, Ace, but it’s not about what I want.” He ran a hand through his tangled curls. “My magic hitched itself to your aura and I didn’t even ask.”
“But I’m the one who invited it in,” Arthur said. “I told you to hold on to me, because I wouldn’t let go. I’m as much responsible for the link as you.”
“Not hardly,” Rory said, fast and firm. “You don’t have magic and mine’s using you. Just ’cause it’s good for me doesn’t mean I get to keep it.”
“But it doesn’t mean you’re required to give it up either,” Arthur said, just as firm. “If the link is good for you, and it doesn’t hurt me, why not leave it for now? Let me protect your mind from its visions while things are so uncertain.”
“Because you’re more than just a protector to me—”
“That’s right, I’m your lifeline, and I said you can’t make me take it back. Let your magic stay.”
“But—”
“Let it stay for now,” Arthur said again, “because I invited it in—and I’m not ready to give this up.”
The words hung in the air between them.
“Okay,” Rory finally said, a little light-headed, as his heart began to pound. “We don’t have to give this up.”
He got to keep the link for now.
He got to keep Arthur.
“Speaking of invitations.” Arthur leaned back against the settee. “You told Mrs. Brodigan that you weren’t going to Hyde Park anymore.”
Rory scowled. Arthur had to go and remind him of what he’d missed. “I couldn’t run and hide before, and the relic’s sorted for the moment. You don’t got any mor
e reasons to let me use your family’s house.”
“Actually I was thinking I’d get the car fixed and drive up and get the Ivanovs myself. Maybe stay for a bit, spend some time with the children, enjoy the mountains and the river.”
Now he was losing Arthur for weeks. Rory tried not to let the sting show. “Sounds real great.”
Arthur cleared his throat. “There’s still plenty of space for another helping hand or two. And Harry owns a lot of antiques.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Theodore.” Arthur rolled his eyes fondly. “I’m inviting you.”
Rory stared. “Sorry?”
“Come to Hyde Park with me,” said Arthur. “You and Mrs. Brodigan both. I’m inviting you to leave Hell’s Kitchen, have an adventure with me—it’s your call.”
Rory covered his mouth with his hand to find he was smiling so big he couldn’t hide it. “Then I call it good,” he said breathlessly. He might have kissed Arthur again, but Arthur pointed to the paper bag on the coffee table.
“I had something delivered for you this morning.” He sounded uncharacteristically nervous. “Although it’s really a present for myself, if I’m honest,” he continued, as Rory came forward and reached into the bag. “I sent for it from Little Italy, and Jade and Zhang promised it was authentic, but if I got the wrong kind or you hate it then of course I’ll take it back—”
Rory held up the beautiful silver caffettiera in wonder.
“—but I thought I could learn to make coffee, your coffee.” Arthur had clasped his hands, the only sign of his nerves. “Maybe give you a reason besides the link to come around?”
Rory stared at the Italian caffettiera Arthur had bought them. “There’s just one problem,” he said hoarsely, his heart too big for his chest.
“Oh.” Arthur swallowed hard. “What?”
“I can’t show you how to make coffee until I kiss you—” Rory launched himself at Arthur “—and that’s gonna take all morning.”
* * *
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Stay tuned for book two of Rory and Arthur’s story, coming in 2020!
To find out more, please visit Allie Therin’s website at allietherin.com.
Acknowledgments
I owe the deepest of thanks to so many:
First to C, partner and friend, for brightening my spirit and strengthening my heart, for selflessly striving to make the world a better place and inspiring the rest of us to do the same;
To my sister, brilliant and kind, for listening and cheering me on;
To my family and friends, for being there in more ways than they know;
To VS, for her skill and perception, and to my early beta readers, for their encouragement;
To my agent, Laura Zats, for her guidance and empathy, and to her colleagues at Red Sofa Literary, for their support;
To my editor, Mackenzie Walton, for believing in this book, and for sharing her talent, insight, and enthusiasm to help find its best possible voice;
To Angela James and the Carina Press team, for giving my book a home, and for bringing readers books about love in its diverse and beautiful forms;
And above all else, I’m grateful for T, for teaching me to persevere when learning gets messy, to create for the joy of creation, and to be brave when things are new. You light my world.
About the Author
Allie Therin is a writer and avid reader of sci-fi, fantasy, and romance. She also is, or has been, a bookseller, an attorney, a Parks & Rec assistant, a boom operator, and a barista for one (embarrassing) day. She grew up in a tiny Pacific Northwest town with more bears than people, although the bears sadly would not practice Spanish with her.
Allie loves to hear from readers! Connect with her on Twitter, @allie_therin, Facebook.com/allie.therin, or at her website, allietherin.com.
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ISBN-13: 9781488055089
Spellbound
Copyright © 2019 by Allie Therin
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