Betrothed

by Lola White

  Silviu saw the gentle river of silver magic thread through her words, wrapping around Eliasz. The other man lifted a blond eyebrow, and Silviu watched—fascinated—as his spine eased until he leaned into Ileana.

  In spite of the manipulation, Silviu saw the tender expression that flitted over his sister’s face. She was falling hard. Part of him warmed at the thought, knowing that she deserved happiness, a man who could care for her the way she should be cared for. Another part went cold, wondering if the day would come when she’d throw all her eggs into Eliasz’s basket, leaving Silviu without his staunchest ally.

  He wondered if Georgeanne’s grandmother felt the same about his and Georgie’s relationship.

  Eliasz looked just as taken with Ileana as she was with him, a fact that interested Silviu to no end. After just two days, Ileana had this man wrapped around her finger. He wasn’t even yelling the house down over their perfidy.

  “What did you find?” Eliasz asked.

  “About you, or your Family?” she breathed right over his lips. Silviu watched Eliasz melt a little more.

  “Anne.” Silviu broke into their loving interlude before they could get carried away. He wanted to take advantage of Eliasz’s indulgent mood while he could. If Ileana kept pouring the sugar on, Silviu feared she’d go too far. Quickly, he explained what they’d learned.

  Eliasz blinked. “Anne doesn’t spend a lot of time with Warner. She’s usually in Chicago, and he’s usually anywhere else. How many kids can they have from separate beds?”

  Ileana ran her hand over Eliasz’s thigh. “We think maybe Constance is Daniel’s child.”

  Eliasz jerked in surprise. He stared down at the spread of folders for a long minute, shaking his head and whistling softly. “Where did you find these? How?”

  Ileana shifted fractionally closer, practically climbing into Eliasz’s lap. “Well, there was a safe behind the picture, and all magic gives a trace of its existence, so—”

  “Silviu found it.” Eliasz looked away from her face into Silviu’s, speaking in a sharp tone. “Didn’t you? You’re stronger than Ileana, but you have the same talent.”

  A spark of anger went through him at his sister’s betrayal. Speaking for herself was one thing, but telling Eliasz of their shared talent hadn’t been part of the deal. The anger faded quickly, leaving a grudging respect and a knotted need to keep his eye on the other man.

  Eliasz wasn’t going to be as easy to control as he’d hoped.

  Silviu gave a curt nod. “I was curious. It was well warded and I’ve always enjoyed a puzzle.”

  “When we saw what was in it, we looked for you, but couldn’t find you. I never thought you’d be in your office.” Ileana smiled as she lied fluently. “I’m glad you’re here.”

  Eliasz’s eyebrow lifted. “Are you?”

  “Yes, we are,” Silviu said. He slid Anne’s folder over to the other witch. “You can help us put this all together. Give us some insight.”

  After a long hard look, Eliasz flicked open the folder and read through the notes quickly. “I didn’t know my father had done this.”

  “Does he have the same talent as you?”

  “No, he’s good with animals.” Eliasz shook his head. “Daniel has agreed to the match between me and Ileana, so I can’t see him doing this. He could just say no to your Family and work out the arrangements for me and Constance himself. He’s the Father, we have to obey.”

  Silviu grimaced. “True, but he plays complex political games. With the tensions between our Families, he could be setting you up.”

  “Do you have any Magic Matches in your house right now?” Ileana shuffled around to mold herself to Eliasz’s body. “Earlier, I saw golden magic on the chandelier, the color of Matches.”

  Eliasz nodded slowly. “We have two pairs here right now, not including Anne.”

  “Don’t include her,” Silviu said. “To show gold, the Matched pair needs to be in the same room as each other, at least. The strength fizzles with distance, and Warner’s in England.”

  “That leaves Millie and Hank, the doddering old couple you’ve no doubt seen wandering through the halls hand in hand, and Robert and Sera. They’re newly married, in Daniel’s retinue. Robert is the son of the Levy Councilman, who is retiring.”

  Silviu glanced at his sister. “Anne and Constance would have easy access to them.”

  “Why are you two so set on them? There’s no evidence.” Eliasz shook his head.

  Ileana sighed. “Adam slept with Constance and says she’s not happy about her upcoming marriage.”

  “He what?” Eliasz held up a hand, flicking his fingers impatiently. “No, first things first. Constance hasn’t ever given me the impression that she doesn’t want to marry Graves.”

  “But in her diary, she’s free to put down her true thoughts.”

  Eliasz raised his brow, meeting Ileana’s wide-eyed gaze. “Do twenty-five-year-old women keep diaries?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Do you?”

  “Absolutely not. That would be stupid. I keep my thoughts in my own head, where my father and grandfather can’t get to them.”

  “There you go, then. Why would she be any different?”

  Ileana frowned. “Because she’s not a Lovasz.”

  “No.” Eliasz leaned closer, deliberately intimidating, but Silviu held still, wanting to know where the man was going with his argument. “She’s a Levy. Part of a very intelligent household, too. Daniel is more than capable of using any information he gets his hands on, so I don’t think she’d write anything down.”

  Ileana argued back. “But if she’s his daughter—”

  “What makes you think Adam didn’t lie?”

  Silviu finally intervened as Eliasz started crowding his sister back, putting a warning hand on the man’s shoulder. “It’s a possibility.”

  Ileana bit her lip. “Is it also a possibility that this has nothing to do with our betrothals and everything to do with Adam?”

  Silviu shifted to look at her past Eliasz’s body, trying to decipher her tone of voice. “What have you thought of?”

  “Well, if Constance doesn’t want to marry Graves, but her mother wants to elevate her position, would she try to latch onto Adam?”

  “And be a Davenold, where she would have greater personal power than she’d ever get in any house on our side of the Schism?” Eliasz nodded decisively. “That sounds more reasonable than anything else you guys have proposed tonight.”

  Silviu rubbed a hand through his hair, trying to still his spinning thoughts. “Maybe Constance figures with Georgie out of the way, she’ll be able to take a strong position in a Motherhouse. Adam wields power—his wife will as well.”

  Eliasz growled. “Too many options. What’s the deal with the twins, anyway?”

  “Adam and Christiana are Matches. Christiana is more stable and organized, but Adam is the people person, the politician. Georgie doesn’t think they’re trying to kill her.”

  “Would she even know if they were?”

  “Yes.” Silviu and Ileana answered at the same time.

  Even knowing that it showed the astute Levy witch too much, Silviu was unable to restrain his smile. “Don’t underestimate Georgeanne.”

  Eliasz laughed, surprising them all. “Never.”

  Silviu climbed to his feet. “In fact, I think I’ll go find her. She’ll have a few insights to share by now.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Georgeanne

  Vasile slid cool fingers under her chin, sending cold chills snaking toward her collarbone. She’d never show him her fear, though. Gently—so gently it made a mockery of everything he truly was—he tilted her face to his, forcing her to meet his penetrating silver stare. Georgie clenched her jaw, pulling an expressionless mask over her features, fighting to remain relaxed in his grip.

  “Are your cousins plotting to kill you?”

  She allowed a hint of anger to darken her gaze. “No, Vasile, they swear they’re
not.”

  “And you believe them?”

  “I do.”

  His fingers tightened on her jaw for a fraction of a moment before finally releasing her. Georgie pulled in a silent breath to calm her jangled nerves and fuel her spinning brain. Vasile glanced around the cheery little parlor, tucked away in a private corner on the third floor. His lip lifted as he took in the delicate furniture.

  Carefully, he lowered himself into a seat that looked much too fragile to hold his large body. “If they’re trying to dispose of you, dear, you must tell me.”

  She heard the compulsion in his words, even saw the silver flare in the sound of them. Cool magic glided over her skin before her own ability snarled and surged, swallowing the soft persuasion like a hungry alligator.

  She really didn’t know why he bothered.

  “I know what my cousins are capable of and when they’re most likely to strike. This isn’t them and I might not even be the target.”

  “I think you are.” He sat back and crossed his legs, hooking one ankle over his knee. He brought his fingers together before his chin, tapping his lips in an irritating rhythm.

  “It could be a plot to prevent Ileana’s marriage to Eliasz.”

  “Ridiculous.” His tone was even, but held a hint of danger that almost had her flinching. “No one would gain anything from Ileana’s death. Yours, however…”

  She shook her head as his voice trailed away. “You’re wrong. Christiana is the only one here who would benefit, and it wasn’t her.”

  “I’ve spent your life arranging for you to have everything, Georgeanne. I don’t intend for you to lose it now.”

  “I believe my grandmother had a hand in your schemes, Vasile. Don’t take more credit than you deserve.”

  Georgie had found her nerve. It was always difficult against this man—especially this man, only this man—but it was her sole protection from his slick manipulation. Since she was a child, he’d been coming to visit, both before he’d ever introduced her to Silviu, and after he and her Family had sent her away, keeping her from Silviu’s side.

  He’d spent hours telling her the histories of their people, the prophesies of their future and the politics of the day. He and Madeleine had ganged up on her, testing her knowledge and innovation, torturing her with facts and figures.

  Her grandmother’s iron will was tempered by her care for her Family. She wasn’t a soft woman, but she knew when a young girl needed a break. Vasile didn’t, caring nothing for Georgie beyond what she would bring his favored son.

  “Without me, your grandmother wouldn’t have known what to do with you. She would have killed you as a babe for being a defective witch without magic. Bane born.”

  “You were quick to take advantage,” Georgie snapped impatiently, going rigid in her chair. “Waiting in her office the very night my mother gave birth to me. Don’t you celebrate the Winter Solstice with your Family?”

  “Not when a seer tells me of a Bane baby, and your mother was the only witch whose due date came close to the event.” He smirked, the unpleasantness in his expression turning Georgie’s stomach. “Interesting, don’t you think? Madeleine went out of her way to find her eldest daughters their Matches, and yet your mother was wed for power alone.”

  “And they got a Bane witch out of it, yes. What is your point?”

  “My point, dear”—he got to his feet, returning to loom over her, bending down until his lips were against her ear—“is that I can’t afford to have you die.”

  Georgie stiffened, cold mistrust sweeping through her senses. Vasile was close to some edge she’d never seen him near before. She didn’t understand his mood. “I won’t, sir,” she placated him.

  His fingers stroked her neck lightly, drifting back farther and farther, sickeningly slowly, until his palms covered most of her throat. Without warning, his hands tightened, threatening her airflow.

  “If I wanted you dead, Georgeanne, I’d do it myself, just to break this betrothal. You are too dangerous for my son. You are a weakness he cannot help but fall victim to.”

  “But you won’t,” she croaked, sitting very still.

  “Won’t I?” His words were silk, adding to the terror she struggled to keep from her eyes. “Now would be a perfect opportunity, wouldn’t it? You’ve just survived two attacks, perhaps the third time would be a charm?”

  “They’ll figure out it’s you.”

  “How? I’m not using magic, my dear.” His hands tightened.

  And suddenly she truly believed that he meant it. His cold palms pressed hard, blocking her airflow. Pressure built against her windpipe, constricting her vocal cords, bringing a wash of pain. Georgie couldn’t hold her composure—her fear overrode her common sense.

  She clawed at his hands, but he was too strong, holding the advantageous position with her trapped in her chair below him. In spite of the combat training she’d been given, Georgie thrashed without success. She didn’t have the leverage to break his hold. Dots spun in front of her eyes as a hot wave of panic broke her completely.

  “Get your hands off her.” Silviu’s cold voice was just barely audible through the ringing in her ears.

  Slowly, Vasile’s fingers slid from her throat as he straightened, never looking at his son. He held Georgie with a hard stare as she sucked in oxygen, her hands rubbing her aching neck.

  “It’s a pity she’s your Match,” Vasile drawled. “But then, I knew she would be. A Bane witch for my Reap boy. The only one who can unlock the full strength of your magic, Silviu.”

  “Get away from her, Father.”

  “Merely a lesson for her, and perhaps you. Take care of your weakness, Silviu, or she will be your downfall.”

  “She will be my strength, according to your old legends.” Silviu eased closer, sliding between her and Vasile. A warm, human shield. “Get out.”

  “You give too much of yourself, boy.”

  “And she gives it back.”

  “Does she?”

  “Go play your games with someone else tonight, Father.”

  “I think your betrothed should be sent back to the safety of her Family.” Vasile’s words surprised Georgie, but her brain was spinning too fast to figure out what the old man was doing.

  Silviu shifted. “Did you send the knife at her head?”

  “It is not in our best interests to kill her before you’re even in position with the Council, Silviu. I’ve not raised you to be stupid.”

  Vasile walked out of the room without another word. Silviu waved a hand to close and lock them into privacy before he turned to stare down at her, his gaze flickering between her wide eyes and tightly drawn lips.

  He hunkered down, squatting to look up at her. “The bastard didn’t even leave bruises, Georgie. He wasn’t trying to kill you for real.”

  A game, a manipulation, a terrifying power play. Georgie was more shaken than she wanted to admit. The two attacks together with the constant vigilance in the heart of the Levy and Lovasz Families had wrought damage, taken their toll. She felt broken.

  She threw herself from the chair, colliding with Silviu and wrapping her arms around him tightly. He pulled her close, stroking his warm hands over her back as she shook against him. Just this once, she promised herself, she would let go a little. She would admit that she wasn’t all right and take the comfort he was so determined to offer her.

  This once, she would let herself be as vulnerable as he always made himself, and trust that his strength would bolster her weakness.

  “Hush, my love, he’ll never do that again. I swear it. I’ll never let him that close to you again.”

  She tucked her head into the curve of Silviu’s neck and breathed in his scent, letting his comfort sink deep. He was warm against her chilled skin, calm against her fluttering heart. Until she pulled back and saw the deadly anger in his eyes.

  For her, against his own father.

  His fingers brushed her wet cheeks. “Don’t cry, Georgie.”

  She ha
dn’t known that she had been, but his gentle words brought more tears. For the situation, for them. In that moment, there was nothing she’d rather be than a normal girl in the arms of her fiancé. But there was too much between them, too many people pulling their strings, and too much about their future left unsettled.

  Vulnerability was a cold knot in her chest as new fears invaded—not for her life, but for her heart and soul. Fear for her Family and her future. Doubts of whether she even had the ability to be all the things needed to all the people who needed them.

  Denying her disquiet, she put her lips to Silviu’s and pushed everything else out of her mind. She poured every ounce of fear and frustration into his mouth, ravishing him, taking some form of control over some aspect of her life.

  He opened for her as if he knew exactly what she needed. He remained passive as she selfishly took from him. She swept her tongue over his, licking and tasting, sucking on his lips and biting at the fullness of the bottom curve.

  She pulled back, tearing at his shirt until it was no longer between them, but puddled near the door. “I want your magic, Silviu. It feels like it could be mine, when you give it to me. Like I’m normal.”

  Immediately, silver eddies whirled around them—him kneeling on the floor, her straddling his lap. A glow filled the space between their bodies, curling over her skin like vines, sinking deep and striking along her nerves. The moment it touched her, it blazed gold.

  Tipping her head back, she closed her eyes. “How can I feel this?”

  “You’re my Match. Only my magic can slip beneath yours. You were born for me, Georgie, and I was born for you.”

  She only barely heard his explanation. She didn’t care about Reap witches, or that he was one. She didn’t care about Matches, or that he was hers. She only cared about the sensations the magic poured over her when it turned gold. She only wanted to know how to make him increase its flow.

  He sent his power vibrating over her chest, sinking into her nipples until they pulled tight. The energy worked the stiffening peaks like the most skilled of fingers. Pleasure struck her breasts until her spine arched, then crawled down her torso and strummed taut tendons deep in her belly.