by Jami Gray
But he did. “First, it happened a generation ago, and as much as it sucks, there’s no one left to hold accountable. Second, not all Families treated their Prisms like that. Many considered them precious because they knew exactly what kind of sacrifice they were asking from those mages.”
His calm acceptance rankled almost as much the near-clinical tone. “And that makes it okay?” I said. “Prism after Prism died shielding precious heirs of notable Families, and in return, the Families basically wiped them out of existence. Not just physically but in every way possible. All because those same Families coveted a glorified shield. How is that fair? How is that considering them precious?” The last came out harsh, and this time, I met his gaze head-on. “Here’s a better question. Why would someone like you give someone like that loyalty? How do you justify it?”
Zev shifted his position, bending his knee to bring one leg to rest on the cushion while stretching his arms along the couch’s back and arm. His earlier anger was tucked away, leaving him watching me as he picked his words carefully and sidestepped my last question. “Is that what you think being a Prism was—a glorified shield?”
“History speaks for itself.”
“Then you’re reading the wrong history.”
Mild though his response was, it did nothing to soothe the ragged edges ripping through me. I could feel my lip curl in derision. “I’m so sorry. Maybe I should’ve been clearer. What little history that was allowed to survive doesn’t paint such a rosy picture.”
Again, he insisted, “You’re reading the wrong history.”
“Really? And where am I going to find the right history, Zev? Who’s holding it? Because it sure as hell isn’t public record.” I didn’t give him a chance to respond. I was done with his blind faith in the Families. “Do you know how much it messes with your head when you have an ability you can’t explain, much less find evidence of its existence? Bad enough I had no blood family to go to with my questions, but even worse, when I went looking for information, it was nowhere to be found. I dug through books and databases, and you know what?” Caught up in my escalating resentment, I didn’t give him a chance to answer and kept spewing. “There was not one damn thing to be found. At first, I didn’t even have a clue as to what I was looking for, so it made sense that I couldn’t find anything. Only by a quirk of fate did I even find out my ability had a name. Once I had that, I dug deeper and deeper. Yet no matter how deep I went, I came up empty. Finally, I just gave up and figured it was better to keep my mouth shut and concentrate on what I knew I could do well, because there was obviously no way I was ever going to figure out what the hell lived inside of me. So that’s what I did.” My eyes burned, most likely from exhaustion, and I felt hollow.
Into that resonating quiet, Zev asked, “And now?”
Confused, I frowned. “Now what?”
There was a strange intensity to him I didn’t understand. “Now that you have avenues to get information on Prisms, are you planning on using them?”
I still wasn’t following him. Maybe I was so tired that it was messing with my brain. “What do you think I’ve been doing?”
He looked at his lap as he considered something. When he lifted his head, his face was unreadable. “How real can you take?”
That sounded ominous. However, there was no way I would wimp out now, especially with him. “As real as you’re willing to give me.”
“I think you’re looking for your place.”
My mouth snapped closed as his statement ripped through my battered defenses and scored bone. I stared at Zev mutely as my world shifted and reformed under that brutal light. Pressure tightened my chest, and tremors began snaking through me. “Oh shit.”
He didn’t gloat, he didn’t push—he stayed quiet, letting me find my way as my self-perception rocked and resettled. It took longer than I was comfortable with because it was an old pain, etched deep by years of convincing myself I was fine on my own and didn’t need anyone. But that need to belong was there underneath all the stubborn persistence of doing things myself and the shameful jealousy of wanting what others had. It lay at the heart of the abandoned child who was now a grown woman, both versions of myself still searching for that elusive sense of belonging. On the heels of that came the realization that what my future held as I moved deeper in the Arcane society would require setting insecurity aside and finding the courage to forge connections I’d never considered. It kind of felt like growing up. And it sucked. Huge.
But Zev wasn’t done. “That’s why I’m worried, Rory.”
There was a note in his voice that hurt to hear. I blinked until Zev came into focus, the emotion on his face hard to take. He held my gaze, his dark eyes bright with worry, but under it all, I saw something else, a fragile beginning of an emotion deeper than concern and closer to an experience I never admitted to craving—love. Nascent though it was, it was a promise, and it scared me to death.
Zev leaned forward, driving his point home. “To ensure that you survive and don’t end up repeating history, you need alliances, not masters. More importantly, you need to know what you can do with your power so no one can use it against you, and you can’t do that alone.”
He’s right. He’s so right. I concentrated on that instead of what I was reading in his eyes. “Which is why I’m working for Sabella.
“She can’t be your only source of information.”
“I know that, but it’s not like I can put up an ad for a Prism tutor.” Honestly, if I could, I’d have happily interviewed a cadre of Prisms to get my questions answered, but I didn’t have that luxury, and no one, outside of Sabella, was stepping up.
His lips quirked as humor pushed his intensity aside. “No, but you can leverage who you know.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Are you offering to help?”
“Yeah, I am.”
His short answer sparked a flurry of questions, and I blurted out the first one to escape. “What about the Cordovas?”
“Are you a threat to the Family?”
I blinked. “Are they a threat to me?”
“No.” His answer was quick and firm, leaving no wiggle room.
Right, then. On to the next important question. “What do you get out of this?”
Instead of being offended, he actually grinned. “Your eternal gratefulness?”
I fought through the mini heart attack his grin inspired and croaked, “Is that all?” Even as I teased, I worried, because he had to get something out of this. That was how things work. It was a cold, cynical thought that lingered with stubborn persistence.
As if he could read my thoughts, his grin faded, and he turned serious. He reached out, took my hand, and held it in his. “No ulterior motives, Rory.”
I wanted to believe him, but it was hard to forget that he’d been the one to warn me that everything came with a price when dealing with Families. And for all intents and purposes, Zev was, at his core, Family. I swallowed, my fingers twitching in his hold. “Then why?” Though proud that the question had come out steady, I couldn’t stop poking at the sore spot.
Instead of the expected antipathy, he responded with a painful honesty. “Because I don’t want to see you get chewed up and spit out.” He tugged on my hand, pulling me closer. Stunned, I let him resettle me in front of him. “Because you fascinate me. You make me laugh. You make me want to tear out my hair with how damn stubborn you can be. You can be reckless but focused. You hold yourself back but don’t hesitate to put yourself in front of others. You bounce between snarky and sweet, but most of all…” He let go of my hand and cupped my face, holding me still. “I want you strong enough to survive in my world.”
I licked my lips nervously, unable to look away. “I’m not sure there’s room for me in your world, Zev.”
“I’ll make it,” he growled.
Then he kissed me. It wasn’t the rush of heat and fire that burned behind the flash fire of lust but something more insidious, a brush of lips, meant to tease and tempt. Unab
le to resist that exquisite caress, my lips parted under the intimate pressure, and a sigh escaped only to be caught by him. His thumbs stroked along my jaw, the sensation cascading farther down and leaving a trail of aching want behind. Slumbering hunger blinked sleepy eyes open and woke with an undeniable craving for more.
Wicked man that he was, he took his time, keeping it gentle, luring me deeper into his web. My hands curled into his arms, holding on as everything blurred and the only real thing was his mouth moving against mine. By the time his tongue traced featherlight over my lips, that slow ember had ignited into a driving hunger, and I was more than ready to welcome him.
We got lost in the kiss, tongues tangling, breaths mingling, bodies straining. He left my mouth and began to lay a trail of kisses along my neck as I buried my hands in his hair. My fingers slid through the long strands, relishing the sensation. He wrapped his arms around me, holding me against the hard heat of his chest, and I clutched those silky strands into gentle fists, keeping him still as I let out a soft groan. Heeding my nonverbal demand, he opened his mouth, licked at the tender skin, and drew it deep enough to leave a mark. It felt so damn good that another groan escaped me, this one a little huskier, a little needier. It was echoed by his groan as his kisses stopped and he buried his face in the crook of my neck.
I blinked blindly up at my ceiling, wondering when I’d ended up on my back on the couch. Not that I was complaining. I liked his weight against me. In fact, there were certain parts I wouldn’t mind having a little more against me, but some indefinable feeling held me still as if one small move would ignite the flames into a devastating inferno.
I swallowed hard, unable to escape his lingering taste. “Zev?” My voice was so husky it was nearly unrecognizable.
“Give me a minute, babe.” His mouth moved against my neck as he spoke, setting off chills that raced down my arms.
“Why?”
Fortunately, he read my question correctly and gave me a reason for the change in direction. “Because I made you promise,” he said, his voice rough with want and regret, “and I don’t want to break it.”
Break it, please. Despite the plaintive whine in my head, I fought back the urge to nudge him over. “Okay.” The word came out breathy.
We lay there, holding on to each other as the sensual storm receded. He pressed one last soft kiss where my neck met my shoulder, and his arms tightened then slowly unwound. He braced his hands on the couch and pushed up.
I bit my lip as the move forced his abdomen and the lower portion—where goodness awaited—deeper against me. My muscles twitched with the urge to move, make that tiny shift that would get us back in trouble. Instead, I sighed and slid my hands from his shoulders to fist against his chest. “Well, that was… we should…” I wasn’t sure what to say.
“Great,” he finished. From his position above me, he gave me a smile that carried a hint of a wicked promise I wanted to claim. “We should do it again, but not until we’re done with this job.”
I cleared my throat. “Right, because that wouldn’t be professional.”
His chuckle was a mesmerizing mix of regret and wry humor. Slowly, we untangled and eventually regained our positions sitting side by side on the sofa. This time, his arm was around my shoulders and my head was on his chest. It was almost as good as our previous position. Almost.
“So…”
“So…” he repeated.
I angled my head back so I could see his face. “So what do I need to know to survive in your world?”
Chapter Sixteen
The next couple of hours, Zev and I discussed the various techniques and theories of offensive and defensive magic Zev insisted I needed to understand in order to refine my maneuvers. Some of it reminded me of my Guild-training days, but he took it further in an effort to ensure that I had something to work with. The conversation veered into a careful—on my part—description of what I’d seen behind Umber’s place and where Jonas had died. Zev reaffirmed my assumption that what I’d been looking at was a visual echo of magical energy. He theorized that it was a natural byproduct of being a Prism, seeing how my ability was centered on magical energy. Neither one of us could explain the strange blips, but we did agree it was worth researching when we had time. That segued into a plan of how he could help me safely explore the limits of my ability once this job was over.
It was disturbingly easy to talk to him, especially when I wasn’t busy hiding who and what I was. But despite my rising excitement at accessing information I’d spent years chasing, I couldn’t give him everything. I held back some aspects of my abilities because, well, a woman needed some mystique. Not to mention, a lifetime of wariness couldn’t be erased by an intriguing promise sealed with a hot kiss from an even hotter man.
By the time Zev walked me to the door and gave me one last kiss that would trigger very pleasant dreams, the excitement was dulled by exhaustion. It had been a long, emotion-filled day, and I was ready to call it a night. I left the light above the stove on for Lena, who was still out with Evan, and shuffled into my room. I barely remembered stripping down and falling into bed before the buzz of my cell phone dragged me out of a deep, dreamless sleep.
“What the…?” I mumbled, slapping around my nightstand until I found my vibrating phone. I touched the screen and squinted at the incoming text. Seeing Bryan’s name attached, I knuckled my eyes clear as I sat up with my back against my headboard and drew my legs up tailor style.
Ramada Wyndham 1640 N. Scottsdale Rd. Rm 259 ASAP
I sent back a quick OMW then got out of bed. Ten minutes later, I was locking the condo door behind me and taking the elevator down to the garage. Night skies held sway, as dawn was still a couple hours away, but even better were the near-empty streets. It didn’t take me long to arrive at the three-story hotel in North Tempe. The blocky construction with the Spanish tile roof hinted at age, but the clean white paint and neat landscaping told of recent renovations. Fortunately, it was one of those hotels where you could bypass the front desk and go directly to the rooms.
Noting the numbers near the corners of the buildings, I found an empty parking space near the right section. I got out of my car and spotted Zev’s Harley a few spaces down, parked alongside Bryan’s now familiar battered SUV. I scanned the parking lot and found Imogen’s coupe, predictably parked all by its lonesome so as not to get contaminated by the more plebeian rides. Looks like the gang’s all here.
I hit the walkway leading between two buildings and, in moments, found myself skirting a pool glittering in the shadows cast by the surrounding lighted walkways. The red doors of hotel rooms broke up the white walls that formed a U around the pool, but at the far end, soft light spilled from an eye-catching wall of windows framed in the same deep red. In front of that was a shuffling group of people wearing a variety of sleepwear clustered around the chairs and chaise lounges normally used for sunbathing.
I avoided the half-awake, grumbling group by taking the long way around the pool to get to the other side. Movement near the far corner caught my eye, and I looked over to see Bryan gallantly leading an older couple over to the others. He was bent in toward the snow-haired woman, listening. He answered, patted her arm, then turned to leave. He caught sight of me and jerked his head toward the rooms behind him.
Heeding his silent directions, I met up with him at the stairwell and followed in his wake to the second floor. We walked quickly down the walkway, and I couldn’t help but note that Bryan looked a little rough. His hair was disheveled as if he’d been dragging his hands through it repeatedly, and his jaw carried a five o’clock shadow. Not to mention his blood-shot eyes. It was obvious he’d been going nonstop since that afternoon.
We met up with Imogen and Zev, who were waiting about halfway down the walkway. I checked the room numbers and realized 259 would be farther down, near the end. I kept my voice low so it wouldn’t carry. “What’s going on?”
“Imogen and I tracked Neil to this room.” Bryan said tersely.
“The night clerk confirmed he checked in the day before Jonas turned up.”
At Bryan’s statement, it hit me that the hotel wasn’t far from the nearly abandoned strip mall I’d stopped at earlier. “Is he in there?”
He ran a hand through his hair as his eyes slid to the room then back to us. “I don’t think so.”
“But something’s moving in there,” Imogen added, all business. “With the curtains closed, we’ll be going in blind.”
That explained why they’d pulled people out of their rooms and hustled them downstairs. With what Neil had been playing around with, no one was willing to risk a magical attack on innocent bystanders. As we huddled, I noticed a young man slowly herding those by the pool inside, occasionally sending a worried glance our way.
Zev saw him too. “We convinced the night staff to let us handle this as Family business. If we can keep this contained, we shouldn’t have to deal with the authorities.”
Ah yes, the benefits of a Family connection. “So what’s the plan?”
Not surprising, Zev took charge. “Rory, you’re going to knock, see if you can get him to open the door.”
I looked at him with my brows raised in silent question.
He explained, “You’re the only one of us that he wouldn’t recognize.”
It sounded logical, but there was something in his look that warned me that there was more to this than what he’d said. Not sure if my interpretation of his intense looks was working correctly, I repeated, “You want me to knock and get him to open the door?”
“Yeah.” His one-word response was flat, but his gaze said a hell of lot more.
I frowned and tipped my head the tiniest bit to the side in silent inquiry. His chin dropped in a barely perceptible dip of acknowledgement. If I was translating correctly, he wanted me to use my ability to check for a magical threat. That I could do.
“And all of you will be where?”
“Right behind you,” Zev assured me.
Imogen, who’d been silently listening up to this point, gave a snort as Bryan muttered, “Need to move, people.”