“Maybe he’s mistaken,” Magnus suggested mildly.
“Would it kill you to give a straight answer just once?” Aiden asked.
“Maybe.” Magnus gave an elaborate Gallic shrug.
The fluid movement seemed to shock Tristan out of his spellbound state. “You’re under his influence. He’s exercising some sort of mind control over you,” Tristan concluded, his voice thick with tension. He adjusted his stance slightly, this time taking aim at Magnus’ head.
Aiden could see him working through the dynamics of taking the shot, calculating his chances of killing and survival.
“I am not under his control!” she exclaimed, thoroughly exasperated with the very suggestion which was both outrageous and insulting.
“It’s hard to explain, but he’s a friend of mine.” Friend was a gross exaggeration, but she wasn’t quibbling over technicalities now.
Magnus had already proven that he was bulletproof, and Aiden wasn’t suffering any delusions. He was both tall enough and good enough to shoot over her head without hitting her. The real question that remained was whether he’d had an opportunity to reload the gun. She knew he was fast. But how fast exactly?
Magnus snickered. “I have to agree. That’s a ridiculous accusation if you know her. Aiden is as stubborn—”
“Oh, be quiet! You’re not helping.” Aiden glared at Magnus and then slowly swiveled to face Tristan. She raised beseeching hands.
“Move out of the way, Aiden. I understand that you have no control over what you’re doing,” Tristan instructed. “I don’t want to hurt you, but I will if you give me no other choice.”
Aiden realized with fresh fear that the gun was aimed at her. She hadn’t expected him to threaten her, although maybe she should have, because she knew less about Tristan Talcott than she did about Magnus.
“Tristan, I know this is hard to believe, but I am not under his control. Look in my eyes. Listen to me. I’m in full possession of my faculties.”
“I’m going to tell you one last time,” Tristan rasped. “Move out of the way. Stop protecting him or you’re going to force my hand.”
“She’s protecting you from me, you halfwit,” Magnus muttered in disgust. “I’ve had enough.”
Magnus moved past Aiden so fast that she only registered a blur as he seized Tristan’s wrist and forced the gun’s muzzle toward the ground. A single thunderous roar sounded as the Ruger discharged once.
Tristan reeled, staggered, and barely kept his footing. Magnus punched the boy in the face, plucked the Ruger from the teen’s hand, and casually tossed the gun aside. Another punch rendered Tristan unconscious, and he dropped to the ground.
Magnus and Aiden were left standing amongst the fallen.
“They’re still alive,” Magnus said, plainly expecting recognition for the effort he’d made.
“Thank you,” Aiden snapped. “I realize how much of a hardship not killing them was on you.”
“Not so much of a hardship,” came the disgruntled reply. “Matthew frequently asked me not to kill.” The sound of the priest’s name spoken aloud hurt, and Aiden averted her gaze from Magnus.
Aiden allowed her gaze to move from one young man to the next, thankful that they were still alive, but full of misgivings over how easily they’d been defeated. Kieran, who’d seemed to be the strongest of the four, had been taken down with a single blow. The same was true of the twins, and Tristan had withstood two whole punches before he also succumbed.
“I can’t drag them into this. I’ll only get them killed,” she muttered with a dawning realization. These men were strong, vital, but were only human.
“Who are they, anyway?” Magnus inquired, conveying only casual interest with those expressive vocals that carried emotion like music.
“Members of House Armaros,” she said, offering the simple explanation, the one that would satisfy him. “They were sent to retrieve me.”
“Ahh.”
Through narrowed eyes, she regarded the Celtic warrior she’d inherited from Father Matthew. How long would this odd relationship last? Honestly, she’d halfway expected to find him gone once he was released from his final promise to the priest.
“An unlikely ally,” Aiden mumbled, too low and incoherent to be heard except in her own thoughts.
“Aiden, did you say something?” Magnus strode toward her, a towering silhouette in his black leather bat-cloak, both killer and protector. The brief battle had made no impression on the Celt who had only the barest comprehension of human frailty. And he was powerful beyond imagination...
She had no idea whether she could trust Magnus, especially in light of the Celt’s bloody past and Matthew’s recent death. And yet, she had no other choice, because she couldn’t risk the lives of innocent people. If she needed an unlikely ally to aid her cause, then Magnus certainly fit the bill.
“It’ll have to be you,” Aiden announced.
“Will it?” Magnus tilted his head to the side, conveying curiosity.
Aiden reached out and grabbed hold of his hand. “Get us the hell out of here before one of them wakes up,” she told him.
“As you wish. Hold on.”
“To what?” Aiden asked.
Magic coalesced around them with a stunning jolt, like they were standing at the center of a lightning strike. A pair of enormous black wings unfurled from Magnus’ back.
The explosive takeoff forced the air from her lungs and left her clinging to Magnus for dear life. Aiden grabbed hold of his arms and hung on with all of her strength. The ground fell away at a dizzying rate.
The wings, pure physical embodiments of magic, were sleek and solid black, an impenetrable darkness denser than the surrounding night. Fully deployed, they spanned at least thirty feet. Fascinated, she stared with longing, desiring nothing more than to run her fingers over them. Were they covered in sleek feathers or suede-soft hide? Bird or bat?
Knowing Magnus the way she did, her bet was on hide.
The excitement of flight stole her attention from his wings and pulled it to the voyage itself. Aiden released a whoop of joy and exhilaration as Magnus swept her skyway, adding a swoop and spiral that caused the wind to rush into their faces. She experienced pure magic. True freedom. And oh, how she envied him and wished... if only it could go on forever.
Chapter Twenty-Six
They set down atop the rooftop of the Archeology Building, toes skimming the surface lightly as the immense black wings slowly furled and then vanished. The landing proceeded so smoothly that there was no perceivable transition between flying and standing. Aiden swallowed profound disappointment. She’d wanted the spectacular flight to go on forever, longer, faster, and higher. She needed to escape into the clouds and leave everything behind.
Aiden threw out her fingertips and brushed the side of one wing to satisfy her curiosity. Wings of hide and not feathers, as smooth and powdery soft as serpent skin. Batty.
With a sigh, she let go of Magnus and moved to a polite, socially acceptable distance. She experienced the cessation of freedom as physical pain, a poignant loss that returned her to the unpleasant reality of a weary soul and an exhausted body.
“Of all the buildings in the city to choose from, you pick this one,” Aiden said. “What is that, some sort of roosting instinct?”
“More like old habits die hard,” Magnus said. “Honestly, I wasn’t thinking about it when I landed.”
Aiden nodded, thinking it must be nice to be so unaware, so oblivious. But Magnus hadn’t been the one to destroy both Matthew and Katsue. He didn’t have to think about the fact that the gruesome act had occurred just one floor beneath where they currently stood.
“Did you see Matthew?” Aiden asked, crossing her arms. Bitter resentment surged in her heart for Magnus, who killed so casually, but hadn’t been there when Matthew had needed him most. Broken promises.
“Yes, I must’ve missed you by minutes.” Magnus cocked his head, causing the hood obscuring his face to shift. “Why d
id you run?”
“You saw what I did?” Aiden asked, pointedly ignoring his inquiry. He of all people had no right to ask her the hard questions.
“I saw.” He offered no comments, no opinions or judgment, merely ready acceptance and patience, causing Aiden to grind her teeth.
Damn him!
“Did you say your goodbyes?” Aiden asked, determined to pry a reaction from the Celt. She wanted something, damn it! Sorrow, anger, regret... Something. Anything.
“Matthew and I said our goodbyes weeks ago,” Magnus replied with the same unruffled equanimity. His voice was dense and heavy, giving nothing away. “Why? What do you want from me, Aiden?”
“I want proof that something inside you is human! That Matthew’s death hurt! That you’re not a complete monster!”
Magnus flinched. The Celt’s entire body rippled under the assault of her shout, like a gust of wind disturbing the surface of deep water. A flash of golden eyes and a bestial growl signaled the anger she’d provoked. She’d made only the barest impression, but that tiny little crack in his armor was the something she’d been seeking.
“I miss Matthew.” The quietness of his reply followed her shout like an echo. “It made me sick to see his body desecrated like that, even though it was necessary. I think of things to say to him the next time I see him, but then I remember that there won’t be a next time. He’s gone, and it hurts. Is that what you’re looking for? What you wanted to hear? Are you happy?”
“No, I’m not happy,” Aiden snapped, sniffling. Unshed tears knifed her heart. “Everyone I’ve ever known and loved, my only family and my friends, are all dead, and I’m in a huge amount of trouble. I need help, and all I have to turn to is a man who’d stab an innocent girl in the heart!”
One of those ominous silences they shared so often fell. A sizable delay ensued before Magnus spoke again. “You’ve seen the past,” he concluded.
“I know that you killed Gregory’s heir five hundred years ago. Not just know, I saw you do it,” she said, placing a heavy emphasis on her certainty.
“I’m not denying it,” Magnus said, drawing a look of disbelief from Aiden.
She wasn’t sure what she’d been expecting, denial or excuses, but a bald-faced admission of guilt? From Magnus? Not in a million years.
“I’m so angry with you right now that I could just...” Her fingers flexed with implied violence. Somehow, Aiden never completed her verbal threats. She wasn’t sure exactly what revenge she desired to extract from Magnus even if she were able to do so.
“I figured you would be,” Magnus said, amused irony threading that rich brogue. “You did promise that there’d be a reckoning.”
Aiden negotiated another mental hiccup. “Wait a second, you’re saying that you knew-”
“Of course,” he replied blandly. “For me it happened five hundred years ago. I’ve had a long time to anticipate this confrontation. Although, nothing has happened as I envisioned it might.”
“This whole time, you knew?” Aiden circled the idea, coming back at it from a different angle as the implications unfolded. “So in other words, it really happened exactly as I saw it? It wasn’t just a vision. I was there, five hundred years ago, and I could have changed things...” The wasted opportunity was staggering.
“There’s nothing you could’ve or should’ve done,” Magnus said. “Events unfolded as they were meant to, and nothing good comes from meddling with the past.”
“You’re arguing that you were meant to murder that poor girl!” Aiden snapped, directing all of her recrimination and anger toward Magnus.
“You feel betrayed,” Magnus said with such perfect understanding and acceptance that Aiden longed to beat him over the head with something hard in order to get through that thick skull of his. Preferably a brick, or a bat...
“I never presented myself as anything other than what I am,” Magnus continued.
“A cold-blooded killer,” Aiden snarled.
“My blood is plenty hot,” Magnus said with that particular tone that told her he was smirking.
“What about Matthew?” Aiden demanded. “Did he know? Did you betray him too?”
“Matthew and I were friends!” Magnus snapped, reacting defensively and finally giving her what she wanted from him. “Matthew understood me. He had his secrets, and I had mine. It was never a matter of right or wrong or betrayal. I’ve always kept my promises to him.” Or tried to...
The specter of the broken promise reared between them, casting shadows and aspirations. For Magnus, it was a particularly touchy subject, and Aiden could hear the defensiveness and guilt in his voice. That personal failure, even though it had served a greater good, bugged Magnus more than the murder of an innocent girl.
The contradictions and complexities of his personality were a puzzle that she simply didn’t have time for. She needed to figure out whether she could trust Magnus not to betray her as he’d done to Mariah, and yet she had no other real options. She wasn’t willing to drag innocent people like Kieran, the twins, or Tristan to certain death.
“You’ve kept so many secrets, told so many lies that I just don’t know what to believe. I wouldn’t consider trusting you at all except I’m running out of time. I suppose you know that the big event is supposed to happen tonight?”
“I was recently made aware,” he replied with an obscure little gesture that might’ve meant just about anything. “Are you going to grab for the brass ring?” Magnus asked before she could inquire about his source.
“I wasn’t aware I had a choice,” Aiden said. “This whole thing was presented to me as a destiny thing.”
Magnus shrugged. “You always have the option to just walk away.”
“Walk away, just like that.” Aiden frowned, surprised at the emotional jolt his suggestion caused. Everyone else, from Matthew to Ah-Loi, had given her the impression that becoming the Phoenix, or dying in the attempt, was inexorable. Yet, here was Magnus suggesting that she could escape fate and regain mastery of her own destiny.
“Just like that,” he agreed.
The next minute was the longest of her life as Aiden considered the possibility. Could she just walk away? Run for freedom? Though an appealing prospect, the weight of her conscience made it seem impossible. Matthew had raised her to be responsible by instilling a strong sense of obligation to both their House and their people.
“I can’t.” She forced the words past her lips in a rush. “My entire life is gone. Ruined. All I have left is this enormous thing that’s been dumped into my lap. I just can’t let Guillaume have it without putting up some sort of fight. No matter how futile the attempt or how doomed I am to challenge him.”
“Oh, he’s not so tough.” He had that little smile in his voice again, the one that conveyed visions of his lips twisted into a smirk.
“For you, maybe,” Aiden snapped. Her palm itched to slap at him. Smug bastard.
“Well, if you’re determined,” Magnus said, and she received the impression that he’d known all along that she’d refuse to surrender. The Celt reached into his cloak and extracted the .45 which Aiden had used to destroy both Matthew and Katsue.
A ball of ice formed in her gut as she watched Magnus load a new ammo clip.
“Here.” He offered her the weapon.
“Will this kill Guillaume?” She took the gun and slipped it into the pocket of her jacket. It made a sizable bulge, but it wasn’t like she was trying to sneak it into an airport.
“It’ll slow him down if he somehow gets past me,” Magnus said, making it sound like he believed the possibility would be highly unlikely.
“Were you planning on coming with me?” Aiden asked, taken aback at his presumption.
“Were you planning on doing this alone?” Magnus managed to convey subtle disbelief mixed with two parts skepticism.
Aiden sighed, because honestly, she’d planned on having him along, and obviously he knew. No point in denying it.
“Do you know where Guilla
ume has the Heart?” Aiden asked, instead of acknowledging his implicit offer. She still had no idea whether he could be trusted not to betray her.
“Yes, and you can trust me,” Magnus said with that uncanny awareness that made her wonder if he were a mind reader. “I’ll help you against Guillaume to regain Shemyaza’s Heart. You have my word.”
As simple as that—a promise made and assurances offered—he expected her to put her doubts aside and trust him. He gave his word, an ironclad bond which she was supposed to trust without question. She wondered what he’d do if she actually questioned it, but a teensy voice of wisdom in the back of her mind cautioned her against doing so. I can’t afford to alienate him.
“I don’t understand you,” she said. “Why the about-face? Why are you changing sides? Matthew must’ve tried to change you, but the two of you were a pair of skilled liars caught up in an enabling relationship. So I just don’t see how it’s possible.” Her sarcasm earned an appreciative chuckle from Magnus. Not the response she’d been looking for.
“Matthew taught me something about compassion and the human condition. He would have wanted me to help you become the next Phoenix, regardless of my personal motives,” Magnus said.
“Because Matthew was a practical man,” Aiden mused. “Willing to do whatever he needed to do to get the job done.”
“He was a moral man. You’re only hurting yourself if you malign his memory,” Magnus replied, and his words stung like iodine in a festering wound.
“Which is more than can be said for you,” Aiden snapped, flinching as she acknowledged the bitter truth. Her pent-up anger with Matthew had stopped her from properly mourning his passing.
“I acknowledge that killing the girl was wrong,” Magnus said. The Celt seemed to be making an effort to appease her for reasons that were not clear to Aiden.
“I suppose for you, that’s progress,” she snarked, unwilling to toss him even a bone.
Phoenix Contract: Part Five (Fallen Angel Watchers) Page 6