by Lola White
It blazed out in razor-sharp arcs, hurtling in all directions. The Levy onlookers dove for cover, scrambling back into the rooms they’d just vacated. Singing tension rolled down the hall in a suffocating wave, whipping, lashing, rending the air, cracking against the walls, throwing portraits of proud ancestors to the floor.
Glass shattered and sprayed and Silviu snatched Georgie against his body. Heat blazed over his skin as his grandfather stepped forward, targeting the woman that had dared defy him, challenge him and bring his weakness into the light.
But Georgie was Bane.
Silviu flinched with every snap of magic, the power piercing him like a thousand needles. Georgie didn’t move, standing strong under the blazing force, pushing Silviu behind her as if she could protect him.
She didn’t flinch as a blinding surge of silver slammed into her chest, weakly exploding in a shower of sparks. She lifted her chin higher, smirking at Alexandru, refusing to back down under his futile assault. The Lovasz power beat against a shimmering, undulating shield covering her body, resisting all attempts at magical harm.
It had happened in seconds. A fraction of a moment where Alexandru did the unthinkable and attacked the Davenold heir. Surprised, Silviu almost lashed out instinctively, without a thought or a plan, but he quickly got himself together.
Carefully—because so very much was at stake—Silviu sent out his own magic, questing at the edges of his grandfather’s. He’d never tried to take on the powerful Lovasz heritage, but now he had no choice. He had faith in himself, faith in the old legends his father had made him learn as a boy.
Georgie was proof enough that the ancient myths were grounded in fact.
Silver ropes spread out from Silviu’s body, slowly twining around the flying arcs of Alexandru’s magic. Silviu lassoed the dangerous bolts and lessened the damage. Glass stopped shattering, the rushing whistling sound of power screaming through the hall began to quiet. Satisfaction speared through him.
He eased out further, reaching steadily, insidiously, softly trapping his grandfather in his spell. Silviu pulled the noose tighter. His concentration was completely trained on the old man, watching for any hint that his grandfather understood what he was doing.
Silviu was using a personal magic far greater than the whole of the mighty Lovasz power. A magic Alexandru had never suspected that his youngest grandchild possessed.
Georgie knew. Somehow, she saw what he was doing. He didn’t have time to question—he was wholly absorbed in his project. He felt her arm slip over his, her hand coasting down his forearm to catch his fingers.
Their magic melded and blazed. Silver turned to gold, eradicating the light of Alexandru’s power. The hallway flared under the force of their unity, energy pulsing in ruthlessly controlled bursts. Alexandru stumbled, fell back against the wall and lost his focus.
Cautiously, Silviu directed the golden flow. As Alexandru’s eyes lost the grim concentration his anger had wrought, Silviu lessened the force. He drew it tighter around all of them, sucking it back from its spread down the hallway.
The three of them stood in a whirling storm of silver and gold. Silviu deftly manipulated both their power until they faded at equal rates, allowing the silver to shine through, like streaks against a golden wall. Alexandru shuddered.
He was still using his magic, so Silviu didn’t dare let his own go. He kept up a soft, steady stream of it as he stepped forward, moving past Georgie with his hand outstretched toward his grandfather.
Behind him, Georgie gasped. Her weight slammed into him, taking him off balance. The unexpected impact took him to the wall.
A single, golden ball of power with no discernible source of origin slammed into her back.
Silviu just managed to get his hands out in front of him, palms flat beneath two crooked portraits. Between his braced arms, his grandfather shook and shivered, a deadening haze dulling his eyes as his silver magic winked out. Against Silviu’s back, Georgie shuddered, her arms tightening around his waist.
Golden light flared and flashed, the force twisted and unfamiliar. It wasn’t his magic.
Georgie’s Bane imperviousness shielded the Lovaszes from the blaze of Matched magic. Her body shook under the vibrating assault, but she made no sound of distress. A second later the world went silent and Georgie stilled
The three of them were alone in the hall.
Alexandru started to slide toward the floor, blinking rapidly, his face slack. Silviu caught him even as he turned to his betrothed.
Georgie’s face was pale and pinched, her eyes too wide, too dark. Her lips trembled and she swallowed convulsively, backing up slowly as she searched for the source of the golden flare.
“Georgie?”
“Did you see that?” She looked up at him desperately. “Did you see?”
“Yes, love, I did. I didn’t know you could, though.”
She shook her head, the dazed looked quickly draining from her eyes, leaving hard calculation behind. “I didn’t know I could do that, either.”
He didn’t think they were speaking of the same thing. “What happened?”
“I don’t know. I saw the flash and it felt…different. Wrong. It was coming straight at you and I just reacted.”
“It would have caught me unprepared. Would have hurt like hell.”
“It would have hurt you?” Her eyebrows lifted, her eyes slid to Alexandru. “It would have hurt him?”
Silviu considered the force, the power he’d felt in that single, golden explosion, even with Georgie as a living shield. It was strong, a nearly perfect merging of two witches’ magic. A lethal weapon. “It would have killed him.”
She flinched, then got herself under control. Her hands fisted. “But not you?”
Silviu leaned down and spoke in her ear, still using one hand to hold Alexandru to the wall. He made sure the old man couldn’t hear him. “I’m a Reap witch. No one but me, you, Iley, my father and your grandmother know that. My father falsified my birth documents so everyone else would believe I was born a day later than I was.”
“They couldn’t hurt you?” She seemed determined to clarify that point. It brought a soft heat to his chest.
“I’m too strong for that.” Silviu drew back from the temptation of her lips and slid his arm under his grandfather’s, taking his weight. “Where did it come from?”
“Nowhere.” Georgie shook her head. “It just appeared and went straight at you.”
Silviu glanced down the hall. The elderly Levy woman he’d sat with at the previous night’s dinner peered around a doorjamb. “Is everything all right?” she called.
Silviu nodded. “Please excuse us, my grandfather isn’t well. I’m terribly sorry if we’ve upset you.”
The woman nodded, disappearing into her parlor. Silviu started down the hall in the opposite direction. Alexandru couldn’t seem to get his feet under him and Silviu ended up carrying him the length of the hall before he glanced over his shoulder at Georgie, following on his heels.
“Help me get him to his room, love.”
Georgie hurried to obey. “What did you do to him?”
“He’s just a little woozy.” Silviu turned a corner. “He’ll sleep it off and hopefully be in a better temper when he wakes up.”
“He’s never in a better temper.”
His irritation kindled into new life. “You didn’t help.”
Her eyes widened. “It was his fault!”
“You need to learn to control your anger. You let your mouth carry you away, when silence would’ve been best.”
Outrage was too mild a word for the expression on her face. “Is that some great wisdom you’ve learned in the four entire years you’ve been alive longer than me?”
“Twenty-seven years under Alexandru’s rule taught me when to hold my tongue, and I expect you to learn that too.”
Georgie snorted. “Don’t, for one minute, think I’ll ever stand back while a patriarchal male disparages womankind. I wasn’t raised to b
end my knee to anyone, Silviu. That includes you.”
His jaw clenched. “Have I ever asked you to?”
“You can be awfully domineering.”
“And you’re tyrannical.” He shot her a quick glance as they reached Alexandru’s room. “I don’t want to rule you, but I won’t let you rule me either.”
“Yeah?” She followed him inside. “How’s that going to work, then?”
Silviu tried to be patient. “I expected to be a team. Equal.”
Silviu eased Alexandru onto the bed and stepped back, breathing harder than he’d like after dragging the old man through the house. As soon as his grandfather was settled, he beckoned Georgie toward an attached sitting room.
The room was small, but a luxury nonetheless—a private space in the crowded Levy household. Georgie moved to a chair in front of the single window and threw herself into it. “Equal won’t work.”
“You’ll have your Family, I’ll have the Council. We can each claim our power in our respective spheres.”
“And together?”
“We’ll take turns.”
Rolling her eyes, she opened her mouth but hurried footsteps had her swallowing her response. Vasile and Costel stormed into the sitting room.
“What the hell is going on?” Vasile narrowed his eyes and propped his fists on his hips. His glare moved between Silviu and Georgie, demanding answers from them both.
Georgie stiffened, her face frozen into blankness. After Vasile’s actions the day before, Silviu couldn’t blame her for her reaction. Easing onto the arm of her chair and cupping her nape, he squeezed gently, offering her comfort.
“Grandfather attacked Ileana, almost killed her. Then he and Georgie argued until he tried to use magic against her, too.”
Vasile flicked a glance her way. “Are you all right?”
Silviu almost smiled, though it would have been a bitter thing. In spite of the scare tactics he might employ, Vasile couldn’t afford to have Georgie die before the wedding. She was Silviu’s ticket to power, and his father would do whatever he must to keep her alive until Silviu claimed his place in the world.
“Do you care?” Georgie’s voice was steely.
Vasile echoed Silviu’s thoughts aloud. “I certainly do. We need you alive.”
“He tried to use magic against her,” Silviu explained. “Now he knows better.”
“He won’t accept that.” Costel took the only other seat in the room, directly opposite Georgie’s chair. “He’ll keep trying.”
Silviu raised an eyebrow at his brother. “Know a lot about it, do you?”
“I know Grandfather.” Costel tipped his head toward Georgie. “Everyone knows she’s Bane, and I read the same damned stories as you when I was young.”
That came as a surprise. It was hard to picture his unimaginative brother reading fairy tales.
Silviu stared at the Lovasz heir for a long time while the room grew quiet around his contemplation. Costel’s face gave no clues to his emotions, his plans or his strengths. He’d always seemed to be Alexandru’s puppet, but Silviu suddenly had more faith in his brother than he’d ever had before.
At any rate, he had no choice but to trust that Costel would stand his ground. It had long been decided who would inherit and Silviu couldn’t take that right away without ripping his Family apart. It wouldn’t be worth the victory.
“You need to take the power, Costel.”
His brother flicked a glance at Georgie before answering. “I told you I would think about it.”
“We’re past the thinking stage. You and Grandfather need to go home and take care of it. Ileana, Father and I will stay here to settle the negotiations.”
Costel slunk down in his seat, stretching his legs out before him. “Grandfather says the Levys won’t negotiate.”
“No, the Levys won’t roll over and give him everything he wants.” Silviu rubbed Georgie’s shoulder. “Come with me, please, love.”
Without hesitation, she rose and followed him back into Alexandru’s bedroom. He walked her to the door, chest squeezing as she slipped out into the hall. Unable to stop himself, he took her in his arms and gave her a kiss that had her rising against him, arms wrapping around his neck, lips parting for his invading tongue.
He poured both his relief and his tension into the kiss. Heat welled inside him, clutching at his groin, shredding his common sense. The need to simply sink into her and let the world dissolve around them was beating at the base of his neck. Neither of them could afford that, though.
Slowly, he lifted his head. “I need you to find out about the golden light. Eliasz said there are two Matched pairs here, and one of them travels in Daniel’s entourage.”
“Okay.” She stepped back, licking her lips. “I’ll see what I can find out.”
Edgy and frustrated, he watched her go before he went back to his Family. His father had taken the chair that Georgie had vacated and was involved in a silent standoff with Costel. Neither man looked happy.
Silviu looked between them. “What?”
Costel shook his head. “You shouldn’t have said anything in front of her.”
“She’ll be my wife. Part of the Family and, since the old man just tried to kill her, she has a vested interest in the subject.”
Costel’s lips pulled straight, but he dropped his argument. “I can’t just take the power from him.”
Silviu nodded. The power was designed to flow only to the blooded heir and only when the Father released it or died. If there was no heir, the power would choose its own ruler, seeking the strongest witch of the bloodline.
“He holds all the power of the Family,” Costel continued. “Every ounce of magic that flows through us also flows through Grandfather, just because he’s the Lovasz Father.”
“It’s too much for his arrogance,” Vasile interjected. “Always has been. He doesn’t even bother to investigate the source of our bloodline’s power anymore.”
Silviu shared a glance with his father, knowing his grandfather’s conceit had factored heavily into their plans. Alexandru took the Family’s magic for granted, took for granted the sheer talent wielded by the majority of Lovasz men. But if he hadn’t, the power added into the Lovasz bloodline when Silviu was born under the Reaping Moon would have caught his attention. Alexandru’s arrogance was Silviu’s saving grace, even as it disadvantaged the larger coven.
Costel looked at their father in surprise. “You really think he’s been that bad for the Family?”
“Yes.” Silviu stepped close to his brother, his tone inflexible. “He has trained you to believe otherwise, but he is not a good leader. The Lovasz Family falls further and further behind all other covens, Costel. He has harmed us, our reputation and standing, our sister, and maybe even our mother.”
“That’s not—” Costel bit off his own words with a quick glance at his rigid father.
Silviu didn’t need to look at Vasile to know his thoughts. His father would allow Silviu to lead the way in this, to make the decisions. “You’ll have to persuade him, Costel. Make Grandfather give you the power.”
“How?”
Silviu was at a loss, not knowing how diplomatic his brother could be. “I don’t know, find a way.”
Costel jumped to his feet. “Of course, brother, I can do that.” His sneer matched his sarcasm as he waved his arm and marched toward the bedroom door. “Why don’t I just go ask him now?”
“He’s out of it now,” Silviu said. “Wait until he wakes, when you can take him home and discuss it.”
“No, this is better, right? I’ll kick him when he’s down. Force his hand in the middle of the Levy Family, after he’s been bested by a female Davenold Bane witch. I’m sure he’ll be more than reasonable about the whole thing.”
Silviu winced. “That’s why I suggested going home.”
“No, no, now is good, right?” Costel stomped through the door.
Immediately, his footsteps stopped. A moment passed before he came back int
o the sitting room.
Pale, his eyes wide, Costel met Silviu’s curious gaze nervously. “He’s gone.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Georgeanne
Adam’s bedroom door swung open on soundless hinges. Georgie crossed her arms, looking over the horrid scene with perverse amusement, not calling any attention to herself just yet.
Her most pressing question was answered with a single look. Adam stood with his back to her, pulling on his pants, his shoulder muscles shifting as he buttoned them and slid into his shoes. Constance was in nothing but a skimpy bra and panty set.
Adam had clearly been too occupied to send a golden spell at Silviu’s back, and Christiana couldn’t do it alone. Georgie breathed a sigh of relief. For all that she and her cousins put on a show of rivalry fighting for the Davenold power, they were, in fact, close.
It would be heartbreaking to learn that they’d tried to kill her betrothed.
“But I want to go with you.” Constance leaned against Adam’s chest, her small hands kneading his shoulders as she pouted up into his face.
“Honey, you have a betrothed in England who’s expecting your presence any day.”
Georgie could hear the exasperation buried beneath Adam’s easygoing tone. Though undiplomatic, it would have been easier if he’d just told the woman she had no hope of ever wearing his ring on her finger. Madeleine would never allow it.
The woman pouted harder. “I don’t want him.”
“Ah, well, many of us will marry people we don’t want, honey.” Adam put his shirt on, indifferent to the woman’s plea.
Constance barely moved, simply shifting against him, forcing his hands to work between their bodies as he buttoned his shirt. Her lower lip quivered, her blue eyes widened. “Don’t you want me with you? Don’t you want me in your bed? We have fun together.”
“Fun,” Adam said, ever the politician, especially in the sexual sphere. His body had gained the Davenolds an advantage more than once. “But you have your life to start, and I have mine to go back to. Honey, this was a good time, but it must come to an end when the betrothal celebration does.”