I laughed.
Yes, I let my guard down for one second, laughing as if I were friends with the fire breather and commiserating about Drake, her fifteen-year-old lovely terror of a ward.
“The heretic …” — Suanmi spoke between delicate bites of the Thrill in a Cup and tiny sips of her triple shot — “… can remove the tie that binds the sentinel to the instruments of assassination.”
I stopped chuckling. Actually, my brain froze.
Suanmi waved her free hand. “Shailaja,” she said, supplying the name as if it was utterly beneath her to utter it. “Daughter of Pulou-who-was. She offers you this trade.”
“Shailaja can remove the sentinel magic?”
“So she says.”
“To you?”
Suanmi raised an eyebrow at me. She switched out nibbling on the Thrill in a Cup for the Lust in a Cup without breaking her gaze from mine. “I have not spoken with her directly.”
“You’re no one’s messenger.”
Suanmi crooked her lips into a smile. “Observant, warrior’s daughter.”
“She lies.”
Suanmi shrugged, somehow making the casual gesture look epically classy. “Make the removal a condition of your cooperation. Prior to unknotting whatever contains the fledgling’s full potential.”
I’d already ‘unknotted’ the rabid koala’s magic once, under extreme duress, by shifting the power contained within my necklace into her. Apparently, she needed the help of an alchemist to do so, which unfortunately made me uniquely qualified.
“Why would you want to help Shailaja?”
“I don’t.”
“Why would you want to help me?”
“I don’t.”
“Well, consider me confused.”
“Guarding the fledgling has become an increasing pain. Release her magic, and she becomes useful again … or not. Either way, she’ll be out of the nexus.”
“The sentinel magic … couldn’t Pulou remove it if Warner wanted it removed?”
Suanmi shifted her focus to the cupcakes. Her plate was empty. She’d consumed every last crumb. “Another?” she asked.
I swallowed past whatever emotion was clogging up my throat. Was I feeling fear? Frustration? Hope? Confusion?
“Did you prefer the Thrill or the Lust?” I asked.
“Both were lovely,” Suanmi said, slipping into a low, soft purr.
My belly squirmed. The fire breather was … buttering me up. And every hint of that was more terrifying than her condemnation ever could have been.
“Rapture in a Cup, then.” I fished the cupcake out of the dozen on the platter. Carefully touching only the paper, I lowered the offering onto Suanmi’s plate. “A swirl of chocolate and lemon cake topped with chocolate-cream-cheese frosting.”
I locked my gaze to the fire breather’s, allowing a slow, teasing smile to spread across my face.
Two could play at this game.
I withdrew my hand, but Suanmi caught it before I’d moved more than a couple of inches. She ran her finger across the outer edge of my palm, then let me go.
She lifted her hand. A streak of chocolate frosting marred one creamy fingertip. Maintaining steady eye contact with me, she sucked the icing off her finger.
A wave of dizziness crashed over me, along with a realization.
It was all for me.
The outfit, the boots, the platter of chocolate cupcakes … and the offer. An offer that would free Warner from Shailaja.
I was being seduced by the fire breather.
No. Correction.
I had been seduced.
My heart thumped once.
Suanmi’s perfectly red lips twisted into a smile.
My heart thumped a second time. Fear rolled in my belly.
And I knew. I knew that whatever the fire breather wanted, she got. She didn’t have even an ounce of the charm my mother wielded so expertly, but she called to the deep, dark recesses of my heart. If she smoothed back the black silk sheets that I was sure adorned her bed, then crooked her finger at me, I’d climb in … and it wasn’t about sex. It was about possession and control — all enforced by the most destructive element on earth. Fire.
“Water,” I blurted.
Suanmi frowned. “Quoi?”
I shook my head. Water trumped fire. The thought cleared my mind enough for me to continue the conversation.
“Who says no to you?” I whispered, my voice catching in my throat even as I spoke the words.
Suanmi laughed. It was a low, husky sound, full of confidence and fury — and nothing like the chiming chuckle I’d heard from her only moments before. A wicked grin spread across her face, and for a moment, I swore I could see fire dancing in her hazel eyes. Her guardian magic rolled up and around her, tasting of chocolate-cream-filled eclairs and toasted hazelnuts, with a fiery finish of sooty whiskey that burned its way down my throat.
The bakery wards reacted instantly, pressing tightly around us.
The fire breather gasped, delighted.
Then the taste of chocolate and hazelnut-whiskey truffles was gone. Just like that. Her control was epically terrifying.
The wards retreated, settling back down into the walls and floor.
“Impressive, alchemist,” Suanmi whispered.
I nodded, my mouth too dry to speak. I took a gigantic swig of my hot chocolate.
The fire breather returned her attention to her cupcakes and espresso.
“You didn’t answer my question,” I eventually said. “Can Pulou remove the sentinel magic?”
Suanmi shrugged a single shoulder, prettily. “Knowledge is sometimes lost.”
“So I hear.”
“As such, doing so is beyond Pulou. But if you insist upon it as a condition of your service, the feeble fledgling will be forced to teach the treasure keeper the spell that might break Warner’s bond to the instruments of assassination. In order to keep her end of the bargain.”
“If Warner agrees to any of it.”
Suanmi lifted her head, shifting her gaze over my shoulder.
I pivoted on my stool, tasting Warner’s magic a second before he stepped through into the storefront from the kitchen.
As he caught sight of Suanmi and me, he paused. Then he leaned back into the doorway with his arms crossed, reverting to intimidating sentinel mode.
Well, that wasn’t going to be great for business.
“Do you think he will say no to you, alchemist?” Suanmi murmured. “With all your sweet treats and tasty magic?”
I bristled, wanting to insist that I possessed finer qualities, but Suanmi leaned closer as if about to whisper a secret.
“He crossed through my territory for you, Jade. To check on the well-being of a … vampire.” She enunciated the word ‘vampire’ in the exact way someone else might sneer ‘demon scum.’
I changed the subject. “The far seer has taken to calling me ‘dragon slayer.’ Maybe it’s not such a good idea for me to be anywhere near the nexus.”
Suanmi waved her hand dismissively. “The far seer has no relative sense of time. And even he would admit that the future is fluid. He could be speaking of hundreds of years from now.”
“Hundreds of years?”
“You’re the warrior’s daughter. Your magic will burn bright until it consumes you or flares out.”
“That’s comforting.”
“You mistake me, alchemist. We aren’t friends. You are a means to an end. And, unfortunately, Drake has a soft spot for you … and Warner. You are dragons of an age.”
“And Shailaja isn’t?”
“No,” Suanmi said.
And with that single-word answer, I felt as if I’d been dismissed.
The fire breather ate the last half of her cupcake in silence, pausing only for sips of her espresso. Then she lifted her gaze to Warner a second time.
“I’ll leave you with this thought. An exchange, if you will.”
Oh, Jesus. I was being entered into some bargain with t
he fire breather, and I had no idea how to refuse her … or if I even wanted to refuse her.
“Adaptation,” she said. “This is the key to living a long life. Take the sentinel. He wakes five hundred years in the future. Does he cling to old beliefs and rhythms? No. He forms an attachment with you, trains with Drake, and walks through this world with interest. He anchors himself in the now. Shailaja, as far as I’ve bothered to figure out, doesn’t. The inert cannot survive.”
Yeah, I had no idea what to do with that info except smile and nod.
Lifting her espresso for a final sip before she rose, the fire breather gestured to the remaining cupcakes on the platter. “I’ll take these to go.”
Sliding gracefully away from the table, she crossed toward the entrance of the bakery. “But first, I would walk. It’s been centuries since I’ve been in this part of the world.”
I’d pivoted in my chair with her exit, so that I was forced to pivot back in order to watch her walk past the front window. Moving west along West Fourth Avenue, Suanmi slipped on a pair of animal-print, butterfly-shaped Dolce & Gabbana sunglasses.
Thoughts … ideas … concerns rolled around in my overly full head. Honestly, I hated thinking so much. I hated my need to dissect every word and gesture, hoping to find some kernel … of what? Wisdom? I wouldn’t recognize wisdom if I did find it. Stability?
Warner stepped up beside my chair. I tilted my head back until I could meet his gaze.
“Jade?” he asked, concerned.
I nodded. “I’m overreacting.” My voice sounded oddly detached.
“I doubt that.” Warner slipped away, brushing his fingers across my hand as he passed. Then, stepping out the door, he followed the fire breather down the sidewalk.
I stood, moving woodenly through the process of bussing the table and boxing Suanmi’s remaining cupcakes.
I’d been seduced by the guardian of Western Europe. It was the oddest feeling, but the acknowledgment of it didn’t change anything.
She was right.
I wanted the link between Warner and Shailaja severed. I needed it severed, though that need was utterly selfish and probably rash. Exactly the emotions and actions I’d been so painstakingly avoiding for the past year.
But still, the idea resonated deeply … enough so that it had penetrated the darkness clouding my heart. Darkness born from the loss of my sister. Darkness fostered by the fear of my capacity for violence and retribution. Darkness that kept Warner confined and hemmed into a tiny portion of my affections.
It was just an idea … a pinhole of light … but I pushed away everything else that had been disturbing about Suanmi’s visit, and I clung to that glimmer of possibility.
Maybe … just maybe … there could be a happy ending for Warner and me. Or, rather, a happy beginning …
CHAPTER THREE
“Absolutely not!” Warner bellowed. “Even if Shailaja could do it. It’s just another power bid of some kind. Why would she relinquish any hold she thinks she has? You should know by now —”
“Yeah, and that’s what this always comes back to,” I said cuttingly. “Me being stupid.”
We’d been standing in my apartment fighting over Shailaja — again — for the last ten minutes. Warner had been gone just long enough for me to get myself all worked up … the kind of riled I got when I knew I was about to get all emotional and irrational and demanding but couldn’t see any other way forward.
“How could you have possibly gotten that out of what I just said?” Warner glared across the granite kitchen island at me. “Jesus, Jade. You know I don’t —”
“Don’t say ‘Jesus’ like that. You only say ‘Jesus’ like that because I say ‘Jesus’ like that. You wouldn’t have said it five hundred years ago.”
“Christianity was around when I was —”
“And now we’re back to me being stupid.”
Warner threw his hands up in the air, then stepped into the living room and began pacing around my worn leather couch. “I don’t even know what we’re fighting about anymore.”
I pressed my palms to the cool granite of the counter, hoping to calm myself. But then I blurted out the next thought whirling around in my head instead. “You’re only with me because I anchor you!”
Warner stopped pacing to stare at me, completely confused.
And in that pause, I heard myself … my mental switchbacks and my muddling of issues. So I made a concerted effort to get us back on track. “The fire breather wouldn’t back the rabid koala if —”
“And now you take advice from your sworn enemy.”
“ ‘Sworn enemy’ is a little harsh. I thought it was more like we shared a mutual loathing.” I tried to laugh, but my terrible attempt at a joke fell flat. I threaded my fingers through the wedding rings on my necklace, seeking a bit of grounding. Then I tried to be reasonable … again.
“Okay, fine,” I said. “I get that this whole thing is off.”
“Off is an understatement.”
“Can you try to not be an asshole?”
“Obviously not, because I wasn’t aware that defending my life, my position, and my responsibility made me one.”
I clamped my mouth shut. Then I decided to try a different tactic. “Shailaja can manipulate you through the sentinel spells.” And by ‘manipulate’ I meant making me think she’d killed Warner by magically shoving him back into his sentinel stasis mode. Which was yet another thing Warner and I avoided talking about.
“And knowing that, you want me to allow her to perform more magic on me?”
“No. Suanmi says the treasure keeper can remove the spell.”
“Then why hasn’t he approached me with the offer?”
“He doesn’t know yet. Shailaja needs to show him how to do it. Suanmi suggested bargaining —”
“With my life.” Warner’s voice was suddenly low and deadly.
“It … I … it didn’t feel that way. And once he knows how, perhaps Pulou could adapt the sentinel magic and make it his own. Alter it somehow, so Shailaja can’t access it.”
“I chose to become the sentinel of the instruments of assassination over four hundred and fifty years ago. I didn’t take on that duty lightly. Though she cannot wield the instruments, Shailaja is a proven threat —”
“I know.”
“Let me finish.”
I nodded, loosening my grip on my necklace and forcing myself to focus on Warner rather than my own jumbled thoughts.
“I might have followed in my mother’s footsteps. I might have taken on the mantle of Jiaotu to become guardian of Northern Europe. I wondered … for many years … I wondered if that was the only reason she’d had me. It was insecure of me, really. She was far too young to even be thinking of relinquishing her guardianship. But I might have walked in the treasure keeper’s footsteps. Before any of that could come about, Pulou approached me with the sentinel commission. He was gravely concerned, and my magic, specifically my ability to adapt, made me the best candidate among the dragons. My mother was … proud.”
Warner paused. I wasn’t sure if he was thinking or upset. I stayed silent either way.
“This is who I am,” he said finally. “I know no other way to be.”
I nodded. Then I pulled the platinum box containing the betrothal rings from my satchel. I’d retrieved it from the safe on my way up to the apartment, knowing Warner would join me there once Suanmi left the city. My hand was shaking as I placed it on the counter between us.
Warner stared at the box, then looked at me.
“You’ve mistaken me, Jade,” he whispered tensely. “I know you’re not ready —”
“It’s not that I’m not ready. It’s that you’re not available.”
“You’ll leave me if I don’t submit?”
“No. Never,” I cried. “But I can’t accept the responsibility of the gift. Even if you didn’t mean it as a proposal.” The tears I’d been trying to contain spilled over my cheeks, and I swiped them away viciously. I did
n’t want to appear weak in front of Warner, not now, not with this on the line. “I don’t want you to be anyone different. I just can’t … I can’t … just … give me a second, okay?”
Warner nodded stiffly.
I fled the kitchen, making a beeline back through the apartment and ducking into my bathroom for Kleenex. I took a fistful from the decorative box on the back of the toilet, wiped my face, and blew my nose.
After a few calming breaths, I stepped back into the hall. Then I ducked back quickly, deciding that I should bring the box of tissues with me.
But as I turned back to the bathroom, I glanced through the open doorway into my bedroom. I saw an oddly dark spot there, standing out on the periwinkle-blue bedding, just below the pillow.
I stepped into the bedroom, crossing toward the perfectly made queen-sized bed tucked against the far wall. The room tasted of Blossom’s lemon verbena magic, which wasn’t unusual. But the chocolate cosmos half-tucked underneath my pillow was completely out of place and season.
I picked up the flower. Its delicate petals were like dark-brown velvet. I inhaled its scent deeply. Even plucked and abandoned on my bed, it still smelled of vanilla and chocolate. In the summer, I grew cosmos in my window boxes along with a few strawberry plants, but I had no idea what a single flower was doing on my bed in January.
“I’ll do it.”
A sharp ache shot through my chest. I slowly turned toward the hall.
Warner was leaning in the doorway to the bedroom. His expression was troubled as he contemplated the spotless hardwood floor somewhere around my feet.
“No,” I said before I’d even made the decision to blow my own argument to hell. “I could never … force you to do …” And then I was crying like an idiot again. I was trying to be so adult, so rational. And I was failing miserably.
Warner lifted his blue-green eyes to meet my gaze. “You know what the only good thing about being the sentinel of the instruments of assassination was? The only good thing to come from five hundred years of service, whether I was awake for it or not?”
I wiped the tears from my cheeks, attempting once again to stem the flow. “What?”
“You, Jade Godfrey. You.”
Artifacts, Dragons, and Other Lethal Magic Page 4