Initially pleased Jackson felt so strongly about her, horror crept up on her. If Sylvia detected it then so could other werewolves.
“Wait, won’t that cause problems? Every wolf will know, will target me ‘cause of him.”
Sylvia smiled. “Oh, don’t worry, dear. The werewolves want absolutely nothing to do with you. They don’t care who the orders come from now because they are all scared spitless of Revenant. And with good reason. I’ve seen the aftermath of when he went ballistic over his orders being defied. Mild compared to his fury over you and Jackson being attacked. He was quite clear to leave you two the hell alone. No one will disobey him.”
“Wouldn’t this be an issue then, you talking to me?” Julia didn’t want the other woman to get in trouble. She was, admittedly, beginning to like her. She’d gone out of her way to make Julia comfortable in an unfamiliar situation, discreetly gave her information about some major players in the room and seemed genuinely nice.
Letting loose a peal of laughter, Sylvia leaned over and hugged Julia. She then whispered in her ear, “We have an interested party ogling us. Not sure if they’re looking at two gorgeous women or if they’re eyeing us for something else. Whatever you do, don’t trust anyone here. Do not accept any drinks or food. I’ve heard a few unpleasant rumours about these gatherings. I’m safe thanks to my werewolf metabolism. Drugs fade quickly. But you, you’d be helpless. These people don’t believe Revenant is real and won’t respect his orders.”
While Julia mulled over this information, Sylvia straightened, pushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear and gave a soft, sad smile to her. “I need to meet someone, for our mutual friend. If I don’t see you again tonight, tell him I said hi.”
Julia watched as she threaded her way through the crowd, stopping to chat here and there, always with a warm, friendly smile. Although, now that Julia had been on the receiving end of her genuine smile, Sylvia’s reserved one was a dim facsimile. A few minutes and she lost sight of her in the crush of bodies.
Time to look for Dawn.
JULIA WANDERED THROUGH the crowds, admiring the paintings and sculptures. Dawn preferred to paint and several of her new works were on display, many of which had a sold sticker. When she’d first learned how much Dawn’s paintings went for, she almost had a heart attack, especially since a large original painting hung in her home. Dawn had given it to her as a present, “for being a good pet”, she had said.
She stopped by one of the paintings, a gorgeous night scenery on the water looking toward the shore. Fireworks burst over trees, lighting up part of the dark sky. A small boat with several people on it faced the shore, watching the display. The vivid painting drew her in, enveloping her into its world.
The constant murmur of the crowd faded away. Her existence narrowed to the lapping of the water, the occasional bang of a firework, the wind blowing across the waves and a faint yelling.
Time passed, slipping by unaware.
Dawn materialized at her side, startling her. Her heart jumped, her sole reaction to the unexpected appearance. What was wrong with her? She’d zoned out on a painting, forgot her surroundings and her duty to Dawn.
“Sorry.” Dawn said. “My paintings can have that effect on people. It draws them in, something to do with psychic imprinting. On rare occasions, someone gets caught, unable to break free. But that hasn’t happened in decades.”
With a careless smile and an airy wave of her hand, she dismissed the concern. Dawn tucked her arm into Julia’s, resting her head on Julia’s bicep.
“This painting is just stunning. I heard yelling. Faint, almost impossible to notice, but there.”
Psychic imprinting? New to her. Maybe Keeper had some information. She detected no magic on the painting itself, the canvas or the oils. How strange. It didn’t happen with the one at home.
That odd, dreamy look (the one that disturbed Julia back at the house) showed on Dawn’s face again as she tilted her head upwards.
An absentminded smile as she softly said, “People tend to ignore the darker side. They see the pretty surface and ignore what doesn’t fit. Take this painting, for example. When you first look at it, you see serene water, a boat watching the fireworks and you think ‘Oh, that’s pretty.’ What most overlook is the drowning person. It’s assumed the person is swimming, but that makes no sense. It’s nighttime and their arms are up in the air, waving for help as they shout for someone to save them. No one is paying attention though. No one is trying to save them.”
Julia suspected they no longer talked about the painting. Why would Dawn need saving? A powerful vampire in her own right, she survived countless attacks from humans, vampires and werewolves. Hard to imagine her vulnerable, susceptible to another’s whims.
That, in itself, worried Julia.
Seeds planted in her mind, a plan grew, one to help Dawn while keeping her promise to stay uninvolved.
Before her worry consumed her, Dawn hauled her along to another piece of artwork, having bounced back to her normal, devilish self. They spent time, tongue in cheek, analyzing some of the sculptures (the dog created from broken toys spoke of the artist desire for childhood again), a few of the paintings (a large seascape teeming with fish made them giggle as it was the ultimate “fish that got away” tale) and a stunning mosaic of stained glass (this artist wished to live in Italy or perhaps Fay if he had a death wish).
Julia had a hard time catching her breath, both from uncontrollable giggles and the speed at which they wandered through the gallery. Sometimes, Dawn forgot Julia had human limitations and tried to move at a faster vampire pace. She tugged on Dawn’s arm, needing a few moments to compose herself, to don the mask of stoic bodyguard again. A few curious peeks tossed their way reminded her she didn’t want to draw too much attention. Granted, Dawn would always draw attention no matter where she went.
A tiny, regal queen caught the eye with ease, especially when she tossed her head back to give a full-throated laugh like she did now.
“Oh darling, that was so much fun. I’m glad you’re here with me to take my mind off certain sounds and scents. I’m less hungry when you’re around.” Dawn hugged her, squeezing tight, though not tight enough to cause discomfort. At least she didn’t forget her vampire strength. She might be tiny, but had enough strength to bench press a car. Blew her mind when it happened. While it’d been a small Volkswagen Bug, it was still a car.
“Any time.” Julia tossed her a small grin before smothering it as the art director joined them. Tall and lean with thinning grey hair, the epitome of breeding. His smile was a shade on the side of phony, obviously used to smiling even when he didn’t feel like it.
“Dawn, darling, I have someone you must meet. They’re interested in several of your paintings but want to speak to you first. They said they wanted to know your inspiration.” His tone gave nothing away, a smooth evenness with no personality anymore.
Julia wondered how many years and difficult customers it took to create such a bland persona. Then realized how hypocritical that thought was. The Enforcers had their emotions trained out of them as well.
They were to present a stoic front at all times in public no matter the occasion, although in the past little while her training had slipped numerous times. Good thing her superiors had no way of finding out. She didn’t want them having any reason to study her.
Once again, Julia found herself alone in the crowd and she furtively glanced around, not wanting a repeat of the earlier odd conversation starter. No one paid her any attention and she let out a mental sigh of relief. She needed some time to recover from Dawn’s tour of the gallery and didn’t feel up to making small talk. Wondering if there was a place to hide, at least for a few minutes, she made her way to the nearest staircase.
Surely there was an office or bathroom upstairs. She needed to spend a few minutes gathering her composure. If her superiors scrutinized her too closely, one of them might realize the truth of her nature. She’d been lucky all these years, slipping
through the cracks, hiding in plain sight. Just one person noticing though and there goes her head.
With that cheerful thought in mind, she swiftly went up the stairs.
Chapter Nineteen
JULIA SLIPPED INTO an empty office, glad to have a few moments to herself. She glanced around, taking in the heavily masculine decor. A large wooden desk took up a portion of the room with a brown leather couch dominating the left side. Abstract paintings covered the walls, their colours clashing with each other. Her eyes crossed as she tried to figure out what they represented. She gave up looking at them and was about to move closer to the desk, to take a seat in the overstuffed chair next to it, when a voice behind her said, “What are you doing in here? This room is off limits.”
She whirled around, surprised at being snuck up on, and by a human, no less. Twice in one day now. What in the nine hells was going on? At least this one had the faint threads of magic shimmering on and around him.
He was attractive in a clean-cut, urban kind of way. Hair neatly styled and cut short. Pale blue eyes framed by rimless glasses. His smile, though, was a curling of the lips, not making it to his eyes. A sense of familiarity nagged her but she couldn’t place him. Perhaps a part of the crowd downstairs? Her subconscious was riddled with half-remembered faces thanks to her job.
“Oh, you startled me.” She gave him her best innocent, I’m-a-helpless-woman expression and a simpering smile. “I shouldn’t be in here, but I just had to have a quick peek once I saw the furniture. It’s simply gorgeous and would look wonderful in my cottage.”
“Cut the act. I know who you are, Julia. They told us to keep an eye out for you; that you’d be here.” The man stepped closer to her, crowding her near the desk and snickered.
“Did you really think your disguise would work? I have mages working for me, powerful mages and they made sure to protect me. No poisoning, a shielding and the ability to see past glamours. You’ll be a very nice prize, a great bargaining chip to trap Jackson. Little meddling bastard.” He sneered at the mention of Jackson, his handsome face turned ugly.
How had the mages kept from laughing at this man? The spells they casted on him were pitiful and weak. She could barely get a read on them. Never mind the fact she had no magical disguise. Magic resistance made it useless and unreliable. Instead, she became unnoticeable by blending in with the beautiful and glamorous, a complete opposite to her usual cuteness. Would’ve worked too if someone hadn’t alerted this guy to her presence, if he hadn’t been specifically looking for her.
How did he know she’d be here?
“They didn’t tell me what a hot piece of ass you are. Look for a plain-jane with brown hair, brown eyes, they said. Doesn’t begin to do you justice. I’ve been watching you and you have the sexiest little wiggle in your walk. I’ll enjoy seeing you on your hands and knees.”
That’s why he seemed familiar. He’d been in her peripheral all night, following her.
A nasty gleam lit up his eyes; lust and perverted desire rolled off him, brushing against her, repulsing her. He casually ran a hand along the front of his pants and the movement caught her eye. Looking down, the bulge told her the state of his arousal.
She curled her lip in disgust and took a step back. He followed as she bumped against the desk. Straightening her back, she drew herself up to her full height and then wished she hadn’t. His eyes dropped to her breasts, fondling them, stripping her naked with his gaze.
Now regretting the plunging V neckline, the urge to wrap herself up in a thick blanket and barbed wire took hold. His breathing grew ragged and the moist air blew across her face. Her stomach churned in anger. How dare he?
Fingers clenched, she resisted the overwhelming desire to deck him as he crowded her, almost made contact with his body.
“You can’t touch me. I’m protected by Revenant.” Julia hated using his name as a talisman, but couldn’t risk alerting the others of her presence by casting offensive spells, no matter how strongly she wanted to set his hair on fire.
She’d detected several wards running to warn security if a spell battle began. Way too many mages were here and she didn’t know how they’d react to her presence. Would they be happy they “found” her or consider her a threat after she attacked this arrogant, distasteful man.
Plus, the day she couldn’t handle one upstart human was the day she’d quit from the Enforcers.
“Revenant? Like I’m afraid of him. He’s not real. And even if he was, he can’t hurt me. I’m untouchable. I can do whatever I like, to whomever I like.” He reached out and trailed a finger along her cheek. Jerking her head back, she slapped his hand away.
“Touch me again and I’ll rip your hand off and shove it down your throat.” Her tone frosty. She had several ways to make good on the threat and her hand itched to grab her hidden knife.
Would blood show on her dress? Too bad the vampires and werewolves would smell it. She mentally shrugged. If it came down to it, she’d chance a little blood versus letting this slug touch her again.
He laughed, a loathsome and cruel sound, “Oh, you’ll be fun to break. I only hope Jackson’s other bitch is as entertaining as you. I can’t wait to have you groveling on your knees.”
Neither one paid attention as the door behind him slowly closed. Julia registered the faint click as the lock engaged, but was too intent on the human in front of her. She sized up his weak points - the jugular, bridge of the nose, eyes, and, of course, the family jewels. Bigger and taller didn’t mean he’d best her.
“Has he hurt you?” A voice came out of nowhere, suppressed rage vibrated through the words. Both of them whipped their heads around, trying to pinpoint the location of the voice. Julia found him first.
A faint shimmer, a telltale ghosting moved closer to the human. When he was a few feet away, Markus dropped his invisibility. His familiar face framed by his gorgeous black hair was a welcome sight.
“Markus!” She gasped and then shook her head. “No, he hasn’t hurt me.”
Markus glared at the human, a lethal look on his face. Julia shivered. She’d never seen such pure unadulterated fury from him before, as if he’d tear the human apart simply to hear him scream.
“Are you sure he didn’t hurt you?” The lack of warmth in his voice was unlike him too. Glacial ice was warmer.
“Yeah Markus, I’m fine. He just startled me. He can't hurt me.” She replied, her lack of concern evident. She could’ve handled this person without any interference.
A cold, quick laugh escaped from Markus. He gave a derisive glance to the human and stepped closer to him. When Markus first spoke, the man had turned to keep both of them in sight. Now he backed up, intimidated. Markus had that effect on most people if they valued their life. Sometimes, Julia suspected he casted an illusion on himself to scare the other person, to give himself an edge over them.
“Oh he would've tried to hurt you, make no mistake. I know his kind all too well. He likes to make others beg. Makes him feel like a man, doesn’t it?” He sneered at the human. “He thought he got lucky, cornering you by yourself. She would've destroyed you.”
Anger brought out his faint Spanish accent, thickening his voice. Only a generation or so separated him from his ancestors, the conquistadors, and he looked every inch the invading conqueror. Arrogance exuded from him, daring this human to protest.
Flames danced in his liquid black eyes as he struggled to control himself. Immense power coursed through his body, the cause of the fire in his eyes and showed how close he was to exploding. The hair on Julia’s arms stood at attention, reacting to Markus’s energy. A small shiver of fear skated across her skin.
Slowly, he transformed back into the kind, loving man she’d known most of her life. Her regard for him would never be the same though. Facets of him she’d been previously unaware of glared at her, twisting the image of Markus, remaking him into something she didn’t recognize.
Jackson was right. She wasn’t the only one keeping secrets in this
partnership.
Wordlessly, the man slide to a boneless heap in front of Julia. The eerie glow faded from Markus’ eyes as the released energy from his sleep spell dissipated.
“Markus! Why'd you do that? We could've interrogated him.” She exclaimed in anger. “Damn it, you’ve probably set off the wards. We’ll have security crawling all over us now.”
He grunted in disdain. “Please, I’m too subtle for their inferior wards to detect me. Disgustingly easy to bypass them. If any Enforcers had a hand in them, we’d have to fire them.”
Raising an eyebrow at her with a smug smile, he added, “And I'm not a newbie. A misdirection spell's on the room. Anyone show up, they’ll think it’s empty and feel the urge to leave immediately.”
She should’ve known. Of course Markus wouldn’t make rash decisions. Always several steps ahead. Some days she wondered if she’d ever be in his league. The Mage Coterie relied on him for the tough cases and asked his opinions on political situations. He had the respect of every mage, both civilians and Enforcers alike. Although with some, it might not be respect but fear they felt towards him. Cunning, determined and powerful, no one wanted to piss him off.
If he found out she was resistant, her head would be gone within seconds, dead before her brain got the memo.
Arms wrapped around her, hugging her tight, pulling her away from Irene’s headless body.
“Shh, it’s okay, Julia. Time to go.” A hand smoothed her hair, a gentle kiss on her forehead. “Come, there’s nothing you can do. But remember, always remember, this is what happens to magic resistant mages. There is no second chance.”
Markus had found her within moments of the death, sheltering her from any questions. But he was right; it wouldn’t do to forget the punishment. While she tried to bury the memory itself, she never forgot the importance of hiding, holding her secrets tight even when they threatened to suffocate her.
Briefly closing her eyes to gain her composure, she opened her senses to the wards, testing them again. As the energy washed over her, she realized the truth. Before, she’d checked to see what was running, not the strength of them. They were feeble, shockingly so. The same mages must have casted the spells on the human. Which meant they weren’t trying to give him weak spells, but were weak themselves.
Magic Resistant Page 17