by Lola White
Tulah knew very little about Matches. “I didn’t know that could happen.”
“Their magic bonds in unique ways, so if they spend a lot of time together it just makes their relationship that much more powerful.” He shrugged. “But I know some Matches that truly hate each other, and the theory apparently doesn’t hold true for them. They didn’t allow affection to flow into their magic, so they aren’t as strong.”
“I guess twins would be pretty close, huh?”
He laughed quietly. “Yeah, we’re close, but we’re also close with Georgie. Grandmother raised us all.”
“Where are her parents? In Pennsylvania with yours?”
“No, they live in New Hampshire, at the Family estate. Georgie’s father has a powerful position in the Family.”
Tulah would have given almost anything to be able to list more people in her immediate family than just her mother. She would have loved to spout off names of cousins and siblings, aunts and uncles and grandparents. She would have loved to have a huge clan, to be among them and hear them say her name in the same loving tone Adam used while speaking of his relatives. “Georgie’s more than a cousin to you.”
“She’s closer to me than my brother. Not quite as close as my sister, although me and Chris haven’t had a lot of time together, lately.”
“Because you’ve been here?”
“She got married a few months ago and I don’t always get along with her husband.”
“Why not?”
Adam hesitated. “He’s a little pushy. Not much, he’s a matriarchal witch, after all, but he doesn’t hold back his opinions. And there’s always this…hunger in his eyes, and I can’t quite figure out what he wants. Puts my teeth on edge.”
A tiny, desperate voice in Tulah’s head tempted her to dig for more. It whispered of Adam’s position with the Davenold heirs, that he’d been raised under the Matriarch’s guidance. It reminded Tulah that he could do so much to help her. She silenced the voice and focused on Adam’s face, watching in fascination as it shifted in miniscule amounts.
She could understand perfectly why he was such a valuable diplomat for his Family. His expression rarely gave away anything he didn’t want to show, yet Tulah was beginning to notice the small things. Even now, with his face impassive, she saw the subtle tension of his jaw ease, his lips smooth and soften. The irritating thought of his brother-in-law was fading, replaced by something much more to his liking. A thrill of discovery shot through her, and she watched for more clues.
As if to validate her observations, Adam smiled, his eyes meeting hers until the blue of his irises was all she could see. The clouds had consumed the sun beyond the pane and the dark colors Graves had favored for the hotel décor created a sense of intimacy Tulah hadn’t prepared herself for, but clutched at with every fiber of her being.
She shifted off Adam’s lap and lifted, bracing her hands against his chest, leaning in as she brought their faces closer. His hand at her back urged her on, stroking softly, but he was otherwise still and patient, allowing her to do as she wished.
She brushed her lips against his, sweetly, with no urgency. A chaste touch, a shared intimacy. His words were less important than how he’d said them, his expression and the emotion in his eyes. She didn’t think he was a man who let down his guard easily, but he had for her. Her kiss was a promise to keep his secrets to herself.
He deepened the kiss, but still kept it light. Lips clung, but didn’t open, heat built but didn’t rage out of control. Tulah didn’t press for more and neither did he. They had to get down to dinner after all, before their absence was noted.
His hands rose to cup her jaw, impressing her with an undeniable sense of fragility in her own bones. Caught in his big palms, she felt safe and cherished. He stroked her skin, she memorized the texture of his lips.
She took one more moment for herself before she pushed away and rose to her feet. Adam followed gracefully, took her hand and turned toward the stairs.
“I guess, in my own way,” he said softly, “I live in a world between, too. I was raised to be a strong man in a female-dominant world. I was raised to share my opinions and show my strengths. No matter who Madeleine chooses as her heir, I’ll be expected to help, and able to help.”
“That must be nice, to have some control over your own fate.” Tulah’s lips twisted but she fought to straighten them and keep her bitterness from ruining the moment. “I used to think that maybe Graves would forget about me and I could marry where I pleased, that I could have a family of my own, away from all the witching politics and power plays.”
“I’ve never had that option either, honey, but I do know where there’s a will, there’s a way. If you want to change your fate, then take the steps necessary to do so.”
She glanced up at him, but his face remained open, as far as he could make it. There was no hint of suspicion in his eyes, no tinge of antagonism in his voice. She thought of dinner, the influx of guests throughout the day who would join them for the meal.
“You’re right, Adam. I should take steps to gain control over my own life.”
Chapter Eighteen
Adam
With so many guests finally having arrived at the hotel, they used the big ballroom for dinner. The decorations had gone up, simple banners of ice blue and deep cobalt artfully draped along the walls, fat white candles in the centers of the crisp white tablecloths. The candles were low enough to remain virtually out of sight while looking across the round table at one’s neighbors. Adam wished Constance had gone for theatrical candelabras, instead.
She’d whispered to him of how she’d painstakingly created the seating arrangements for dinner when he’d reluctantly held her seat for her. Constance must have meant only their table, however, as Ngozi witches sat in gloomy clumps on one side of the room while Levys filled the remaining tables on the other, trying in vain to lighten the atmosphere with low laughter.
To his right, Daniel and Anne presided over a table containing Christiana and Silviu, Ileana and Eliasz, and Madeleine and Margaret. Their group was the luckiest in the room. Adam was stuck in a peculiar arrangement at the bride’s table—a place he’d give anything not to occupy.
He was squished between Constance and Georgie, all but on his cousin’s lap as he shied away from Constance’s wandering hands beneath the table. On the other side of the frisky Levy woman, Graves sat entirely too close to her father. Tulah and Charles sat beyond Warner while Muso rounded out their circle at Georgie’s other elbow.
Adam met his cousin’s emotionless gaze. She gave him a silent stare before letting her eyes slide toward Constance with a clear, if unspoken, demand. She turned to Muso. Adam sighed and bent a glittering smile on his conversational burden.
“How are you tonight, Constance?”
She immediately pouted, which oddly made her more beautiful. It was all Adam could do to hold on to his smile and remain at the table. “I’ve barely seen you at all,” she whined.
“Well, I’m sure you’ve been busy with the wedding plans. The ballroom looks wonderful, by the way.”
She leaned closer, bracing one arm on the tabletop so that her cleavage settled on it, pushing her bosom against the limits of her neckline. Her other hand dipped low to find his thigh. “You’ve been avoiding me, Adam.”
He covered her fingers with his and gave into the irritation eating him alive, squeezing just a hair harder than he knew he should have. “Don’t be silly, honey. Why would I avoid you?”
Her mouth worked for a moment, her gaze blanked. “Well, because you said…”
Adam glanced at Graves and lowered his voice until he wasn’t even certain if Constance could hear him. “I would certainly never be so rude as to avoid someone, honey.”
“Like Graves would care.” Constance’s words were as low as Adam’s. “Look at him. We’re surrounded by Family and he’s practically fucking my father at the table.”
He was surprised at her anger. “You knew that was going on whe
n you agreed—”
“He’s the second seat, Adam. I am nothing to the Levys, but when I marry him—” Her lips pressed together. “He understands the position I’m in, because it mirrors his.”
Adam looked around the room again, noticing all the male faces. He also noticed Charles leaning in toward Tulah, whose cheeks had paled to a sickly hue. “The Levys treat their women better than the Ngozis. Graves, I know for a fact, has no respect for women. I’m thinking that runs in the Family.”
“I’ll be the secondary leader’s wife, I’ll naturally command respect.”
“You really think so?” Adam shook his head and dared another glance at Tulah, his stomach cramping at the expression on her face. “I think you’re making a bad bargain, honey, but it’s your life. However, I can’t let you drag me into it, so while I’m not avoiding you, neither will I be engaging with you.”
“Daniel would never have agreed to the match if he thought it wasn’t valuable. You act as if I’d be in danger.” Her lips curled triumphantly. “Are you worried about me?”
“It’s not too late, Constance. Your betrothal wasn’t sealed in blood and Daniel has a lot of affection for you. You could easily get him to rethink the matter.”
“Graves has a lot of affection for me, too. Are you jealous?” Her voice slid into a purr. “Do you wish you were marrying me? I’d happily throw Graves over for you. You know that, don’t you?”
“Madeleine would never agree to a marriage between us.” Adam struggled to keep his voice neutral. “I just don’t want you to get hurt and Graves likes to hurt people.”
Constance’s porcelain skin flushed violently. “I can take care of myself.”
Once again, Adam squeezed her fingers. “Can you?”
“Of course I can! Not that you would be so concerned, but Graves will be a perfectly acceptable husband.”
“Then why are you doing your best to get your hands in my pants, here at the table?”
Constance immediately went soft and pliant. “I like you. I want to be with you, Adam. Marriage is for politics and power, but lovers are for…love.”
Her tone was patently false, sending him straight over the edge. Adam had had enough. Diplomacy be damned, he wasn’t about to spend another minute arguing while keeping the woman’s hand from his dick. Not with Tulah across the table looking as if she would burst into tears at any moment as Charles leaned too damned close to her. Not while Georgie’s tension was increasing by the minute and Adam couldn’t figure out why. Not when all he wanted to do was leap out of his chair and fucking swim back to New Hampshire, if he must.
“Bullshit, baby doll.” His lips barely moved as he snarled in Constance’s face. “Don’t ever fucking assume that I’m an idiot. I know you’re nothing in your Family and I know you want what I’ve got.”
“Adam, darling, no—” Her eyes were wide, suspiciously damp.
“You think I don’t know you attached yourself to my dick in Poland with the hopes of being dragged into Davenold greatness? You think you’re the first woman who’s ever tried such a thing?”
Before she could regain her tongue and answer his rhetorical question, before Adam really could jump out of his chair and remove himself from the festivities, Graves’ voice slid through the air like a cold blade. “Where is your East African whore, Muso? What happened to the Njele cunt?”
All conversation, in every part of the room, died a sudden death. Everyone at the head table, with the sole exception of Graves, went bolt upright in their seats. Collectively, they held their breath. Warner looked constipated. Georgie reached out to clutch the hem of Adam’s dinner jacket below the tabletop.
The Family Father spoke slowly, clearly and firmly. “My wife will be given proper respect, Graves.”
“Not if she doesn’t deserve it, though, right? I mean, she’d spread her thighs before coming to your bed, bearing a child with a man not her husband.” Graves grinned and leaned back in his chair. “Unless the child was part of the deal.”
Next to him, Georgie closed her eyes and tightened her fingers in Adam’s coat. The rest of the room was an utter wasteland of noise, nothing and no one moved.
Muso gripped his cutlery in both hands, hard enough to whiten his knuckles. “Is that what you would have done? Focused on your stepchild the way you focused on your father-in-law? Is that what your poor wife has to look forward to?”
“Oh-ho!” Graves tossed his napkin on his plate. “Now she’s a poor woman! Do you pity her, Muso, the way you pity your wife?”
“I did as all Fathers must, and married for the good of my Family.” Muso’s voice shook with the effort of keeping it level. “Something I’m well aware you will never understand.”
“You married a worthless Njele,” Graves sneered. “I’ll marry a Levy, and we’ll see who comes out on top.”
“Warner will!” Muso slammed his fork on the table. Adam noted the Father continued to hold his steak knife. “Isn’t that your arrangement? You’re the bottom?”
“Oh, dear Goddess,” Georgie whispered. “I don’t know how to stop this.”
Adam shook his head. “Don’t look at me. For all I care they could go to war right here and now. It’s a great excuse to get the fuck out and go home.”
“I enjoy my lovers in a variety of positions,” Graves crooned. “Power comes from many seemingly innocent sources.”
Muso’s face drained of color. Unmistakable fear filled his eyes as they cut toward the other table. Adam followed his gaze and saw Silviu, sitting impassively. Deceptive—he knew the Lovasz man was coiled tight and ready to spring into action.
Muso drew a hard breath. “Your past is a cesspool you’ve dragged your Family through.”
Graves only smiled. “You’re one to talk. Just look at Tulah, dragged into this whole thing so you could have pussy on demand in our all-male household. No wonder you didn’t bring your wife.”
The Father glanced in her direction with an angry scowl. “Tulah is my niece, damn you! Unlike you, I don’t prey on my Family members.”
“Let’s stop the fucking lies, shall we?” Graves shook off Warner’s restraining hand. “You wondered if Tulah’s cunt lived up to all the dirty fantasies you’ve had of her over the years.”
“You are beyond disgusting,” Muso thundered. “I requested her presence to make certain you hadn’t sold her to the lowest bidder.”
“Or to take her for yourself. Why else would you have let her be all these years, unless you were waiting for her to grow up?” Graves waved toward the mute woman in question. “I’ll be happy to give her to you for your use while in residence. Hospitality demands I share my pet.”
Muso’s eyes nearly bulged from his skull. “Have you no decency? Good God! I am giving her to Charles, not taking her for my mistress!”
“Trying to buy him from my side?” Graves sneered.
“I won’t have him.” Tulah’s strained voice was barely audible.
“You will do as you’re told,” Muso snapped.
To Adam’s complete shock, Tulah jumped to her feet. The color was high on her cheeks as she boldly faced the men, her chest working hard to find oxygen, her caramel eyes glittering with undiluted anger and fierce determination. Gasps rang through the patriarchal crowd as a lowly female challenged her male superiors. “I will not be used by either of you!”
“You dare to speak, pet?” Grave stood up, his expression hardening.
“Yes, I dare,” Tulah screamed. “I have had enough of being used like a pawn on a warped chessboard. I’m sick of you and everything you are.” She spun toward Muso, lifting her chin. “And you, gone so long, not giving a fuck about me and my mother! Too wrapped up in your own weakness, sulking for a decade. You think you can come here and order me to fuck Charles!”
“You will mind your damned tongue!” Muso barked.
“No, I won’t! And I will not screw the man that held my father down while Graves ripped the branch’s power out of him and killed him! Just like Jer
in.”
Muso froze. “What?”
“Isn’t that why you stayed away?” she sneered. “Worried it would happen to you so you left and—”
“You will explain, Tulah!” Muso’s chest heaved.
“He doesn’t need a fucking explanation, pet.”
“You take what you want no matter what dark spells you must weave to get it.” Tulah ignored Graves’ warning as she pointed an accusing finger at him. Then she whirled on Muso. “He robbed my father of his power, of his life! My mother told me to keep my anger in check so he wouldn’t kill me, but I don’t care what the hell any of you do to me. Death is preferable to being in this Family.”
“Tulah—” Muso tried again.
“I hate you all. You make me sick and I would rather be dead than be thought of as one of you.”
Charles leaped to his feet, reaching for her. Quick as a cat, Tulah lashed out at him with her fork and danced away. Adam found himself on his feet, too. Through the rushing in his ears, he heard Daniel yelling for them all to calm down.
“You little bitch!” Graves raced around the table after her. “Fucking whore!”
“All for the power you were denied,” she screamed in his face. “Look around you, at your dying Family. Look around and see the truth, no matter how much magic you take, power has still passed you by. Look at how Muso gave your rights away to some distant cousin in Canada, rather than facing you like a man and taking you down like the rabid dog you are. You’re both—”
Graves slapped the words out of Tulah’s mouth. Adam pushed Georgie’s hand off his coat and circled the table at top speed. Eliasz and Silviu were also on their feet, but everything was happening too fast. Tulah’s words were tumbling over themselves, Graves’ insults slicing through them. Less than a minute had passed since she’d left her chair, not enough time for the audience to gather their wits.
Graves hit Tulah again. She laughed even as blood poured over her lip. “You’re so fucking stupid, Graves. Weak for all your stolen magic.”
He flinched, growled, his fingers twitched. Georgie sucked in oxygen. Ileana screamed. Daniel commanded someone to stop.