For a moment he thought she might consent, but her eyes sharpened and the unyielding curtain of ice fell into place. “I have things to take care of before we get started. Besides, I don’t mix business and pleasure.”
“I mix business and pleasure all the time.” So she felt the connection too. And it bothered her. Well, that should be interesting. He wondered briefly how long it would take for him to get that hot Fey blood of hers flowing like molten lava. If magic held true to form, her first time running on the real juice, as opposed to his bush wizard tricks, would turn her into pure fire. “I’m only offering because you need to ground. Eating, especially carbs, helps bring you down off the magic high. It’s a crude method, but works surprisingly well.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
Stubborn. She didn’t believe him. Well, she’d find out soon enough. If she didn’t ground, she’d buzz for an hour or so, and then crash and burn. “In that case, I’ll see you at Ramon’s.”
They parted outside, where his SUV waited. Havers held the door open for him, then snapped it closed. Through the window he saw her give Raine the once over and frown. He resisted the urge to turn in his seat and watch Raine’s departure. There would be plenty of time soon enough for all kinds of other interesting things. Business, and pleasure.
Havers put the vehicle into gear and pulled out into the street. “Her aura’s off. Too thin.”
“She’s suppressing. If she can ever own up to what’s really inside of her, it will fill out.” Jack kicked back and stretched out. “What do you think now that you’ve seen her in person?”
“My original opinion stands. She’s trouble.” His personal assistant guided the vehicle into the light traffic of the avenue. “Speaking of which, your escorts were given the boot about five minutes ago. I didn’t expect you to follow so soon. What happened?”
What happened indeed? “A good question. We had the little show as expected, Kerr foaming at the mouth, Ramon unflappable as ever and full of his usual continental ennui. Initially, I picked up some kind of weird tension between Ms. Spencer and Hugh.”
“I imagine so. It can’t be good for family relations for her to agree to work with your kind.”
“My kind?” Jack stirred. “She’s as much a half-breed as me, even if her ears are clipped.”
“It’s not that, Jack. To them, you’re an anarchist. The antithesis of all they strive to protect.” Havers laughed, her voice low and throaty with mischief. “So what? You pissed off one of them and they kicked you out early rather than endure your odious presence?”
“I don’t know what happened to cut things short.” And he didn’t. But he would. It seemed a little thing, but he’d learned in all his years in and out of the game, that the devil was in the details, and those little things, when taken for granted, came back to drag you down to hell when you least needed to take that trip. “Things were going as planned, then I felt a strange energy shift. Ramon felt it too. A few minutes later he decided he and Kerr had more to discuss and asked us to meet him later to work out the rest of the deal.”
“That’s not good.”
“No. It’s not.” He knew he should be focusing his attentions on that, trying to figure out what new angle was being worked in the game that had just begun. Instead, his mind drifted back to Raine Spencer. “We might have gotten the boot because of Raine’s terms. She demanded someone squire her and give her a shot at knighthood.”
“You’re shitting me. That’s completely insane.” Havers shook her head. “I can’t believe Hugh didn’t stroke out. Knighthood. Her file didn’t mention madness.”
“Everyone in the Covenant is at least a little mad. I have no idea why she wants something as stupid as entry into the Chivalric Order. Of all the things you could ask for, she wants that.”
“See? Trouble. Like I told you in the first place. You’d better be careful this time.” She swerved to avoid a taxi pulling away from the curb. “So the sorcery runs true in her?”
“She’s far stronger than I expected, in terms of both magical and mystical energy. I’ll need to be real careful not to fry her. That means keeping the two esoteric forces separate most times, but it’s nothing I can’t handle. I can siphon the magic, too, and she won’t be able to tell. I just need the blocks removed. It was dicey breaking through to the magic. Took all I had.” They turned onto the road that cut through the park and he watched the colorful autumn leaves dance as the SUV sped through the narrow traffic lane. “I think I’m going to teach her some simple magic. Just in case.”
“In case what?” His assistant snorted. “Stick to the plan, Jack. Don’t color outside the lines on this one. It’s too important.”
Havers was right. “Ramon’s going to meet Raine’s price. Knighthood.”
“Can’t be a knight and have truck with the magical arts. Or the mystical ones for that matter. Kind of hard to shove the genie back in the bottle once you’ve popped the cork, though.”
“They bound me, I’m sure they’ll do something similar to her.”
“Between you using her as a surrogate, and them awakening and then binding her, she’ll be lucky if her brain doesn’t turn into mush.” Again, the derisive snort. “This is really fucked up. I don’t like it. Not one bit. Either the Wardens and her uncle don’t give two shits about her, even though she’s one of the top occult analysts, or this whole deal is a hell of a lot bigger and badder than anyone’s letting on and they’re willing to give away the farm to fix things.”
“I believe it’s a little bit of both.” Raine’s face, cool, distant, and far more beautiful in person than pictures, drifted through his memory again. She brought heat to his blood, and also something strange—a twinge of a long absent emotion. Guilt. Once recognized, he shoved the uncomfortable emotion into a dark place that he promptly latched shut and turned from. He’d committed to his path when Ramon Salazar first called, there was no turning back. “You know that old Warden’s saying ‘acceptable losses’. We all fall into that category. All that matters is that I’m standing at the end, dishing out the payback.”
Chapter Three
Raine left Jack and hiked up to Fifth Avenue. She briefly considered hailing a cab to take her back to her hotel room at the Plaza, but the minute she stopped moving to call for one, her head began to buzz and her body started to shake. She opted instead to walk off what could only be the residual burn of magic.
Gods, she wanted to puke. The magic was like an addictive poison. And the magic of Mad Jack? She shivered, vividly recalling his power and the wild sensations his presence and touch aroused. She’d imagined the worst, and her worst wasn’t even close to what had happened after not five minutes in his presence. Her only consolation was the knighthood. Ramon would sponsor her. She’d win those damn spurs if she had to bleed every last drop of life in her soul.
Her pace quickened as she recalled the spectacle that had taken place in the conference room. It was no wonder Ramon asked them to leave. Jack had pushed Kerr to the point of physical conflict. Had Uncle Hugh not intervened, there’d have been blood for sure.
Raine’s heart pounded. There were few enough people on the Manhattan streets this early on a Sunday morning, but the ones she passed gave her curious glances. New Yorkers were renowned for their lack of interest for surroundings and others. Their attention made her realize her own crazed state. She forced herself to moderate her step, but she couldn’t seem to stop herself. She wanted to break into an all-out run, give the energy inside of her release until she was empty and level again. Except she wasn’t certain she’d ever level off again. Not after Jack.
What had he done to her? This was like her awakening, the moment when the clerics opened the pathways to her repressed mystical side, only it was magnified a thousand fold. Images and thoughts flashed through her brain like erratic lightning, and her emotions surged unprotected, in response. Jack had touched off a storm inside of her, one she didn’t understand, and didn’t know how to control. She ran a ha
nd across her brow. Her skin was cold, clammy, alien. She had to get a grip. Calm down. Sort herself out. If she didn’t she’d be useless, and being useful was the only thing that guaranteed her a shot at her dream.
She glanced up at her surroundings and found herself rapidly approaching the temple-like gray granite stairs of the Metropolitan Museum of Art. There were a few hearty folks gathered on the steps, despite the cool October air. A street vendor was prepping his pretzel cart for the day. The crisp wind carried the doughy, slightly burnt aroma her way, a scent she always thought to be uniquely New York. What did Jack say earlier about eating and magic? She managed to bring her steps and her thoughts momentarily under control, and approached the portly man buried between layers of sweat shirts and a Yankees ball cap.
“I’d like some pretzels.” Her voice was unnaturally tense.
“Sure, miss.” He opened the door to the heated compartment and reached in with tongs. “How many?”
“All of them.” The words tumbled out in a rush.
The man paused, squinted at her, and began to withdraw his hands. “That’s a whole day’s supply.”
Her stomach growled like an angry lion.
The man blinked.
Raine did her best to don what she thought was a disarming smile. “Haven’t had any breakfast yet. How about I start with ten?”
She paid and he handed over the fragrant, hot pretzels wrapped in the front page of the Daily News, since the napkins weren’t big enough to hold all she’d purchased. Raine climbed midway up the stairs, then sat on the chilled stone and helped herself to the food. She’d all but inhaled the first eight before she realized that the bread was having a stabilizing effect on the buzz in her blood and her jumping thoughts. Jack hadn’t been screwing with her. The food really did help. Things inside of her died down to a dull roar. The restlessness lingered, but now she could think clearly.
She was about to start on pretzel number nine when her cell phone rang. She grabbed it, recognized her uncle’s number, and hesitated a moment. On the third ring, she gave in and answered.
“Hello, Uncle.”
“Where are you?” He was gruff, businesslike. She’d never known him to be any different.
“I decided to walk back to my hotel. I’m at the museum right now, taking a break.”
A pause on his end, as if her decision to abandon the Wardens’ stronghold for more neutral territory was something to be considered. Analyzed. But wasn’t that always the way? Everything she did, everything she said, fell under the harsh glare and microscope. Particularly with Hugh. She’d learned discipline from him this way, clarity and focus of thought, word and deed, but she longed for so much more.
“Is Madden with you?”
“No.” She bit into the soft dough, and a thick cluster of salt crystals burned the sensitive flesh of her tongue.
“Good. We need to talk.” There was an underlying urgency to his speech now, a slight strain. “I’ll meet you at the hotel.”
Her thoughts began to race again. The last thing she needed was to see her uncle in this condition. “When? I wanted to grab some brunch.”
“Fine. I’ll meet you in the hotel restaurant.”
He disconnected. There would be no argument. Hugh Spencer hadn’t risen to the rank of paladin by accident. He was a credit to the Order, an example to be followed, a man who toed the line and expected everyone else to fall into his step. Raine finished the last of the pretzels on her way down the stairs, and discarded the newspaper in a trash bin.
Her uncle was acting in character, but there was something, barely tangible, that showed him on edge. Perhaps Jack’s attack had rattled him more than he let on? No. That wasn’t it. It ran deeper. Must be what Salazar had wanted to discuss with Kerr in private. Did Hugh listen, or was he asked to leave as well? The whole thing was beyond strange. And draining.
Unbidden, a picture of Jack leering at her flashed through her mind. She should have smacked him. Instead, she wanted to leer back. Maybe touch him some more. She rubbed her eyes, trying to clear the image.
Men never affected her like this. She was used to being the power broker. The aggressor. Casual sex was a great tension release, and men were a way to gain that release. It was her one nod to the hot Fey blood, but she always set the terms. She’d had men just as sexy, just as beautiful as Jack. Perhaps not as elegant, or magnetic. Definitely not as crazy. There was no reason for her to be freaked out by him. But she was freaked anyway. There was more than raw sex appeal at work. He’d done more than use her as a surrogate. He’d put some damn spell on her. Bastard.
Her rapid pace got her to the hotel at Fifty-Ninth Street in record time. She was into her first order of pancakes and just coming off the worst of the magic high when she spied her uncle’s tall frame blotting out the light from a high window near the entryway. He noticed her and the grim set of his mouth tightened.
Seeing him, she realized he was embarrassed. Her demand to enter the inner sanctum, to breach protocol and reach for the brass ring of knighthood was scandalous. And there was not much Hugh hated more than scandal. Breaking rules. Yes. He hated that more. And so did she. But this one time, she had to admit the rule was worth breaking because it was foolish. Racist. Narrow-minded. Archaic. She would make an amazing knight. Surely he knew that, deep down, somewhere. Surely he could overlook the scandal this would cause, and see the greater good of her act.
She’d never expected him to offer sponsorship. That would have to come from Kerr, and Kerr did not sponsor those of questionable character or heritage. Still, it would have been nice to see some support.
Hugh pulled out a chair and sat down stiffly. “That was quite a performance, don’t you agree?”
A waiter approached, but Hugh waived him away with a dismissive gesture.
Raine swallowed her food down a dry throat. She felt twelve again, in trouble for one of many minor rule infractions, about to receive a lecture. “Everyone warned me about Jack Madden. I expected him to be difficult.”
“I wasn’t talking about Jack.” His voice was quiet and tough as flame-tempered steel. “I meant Kerr’s performance.”
Raine sat back, stunned. She didn’t think Kerr was acting. Everyone knew the High Warden’s feelings about the Alt races, and the few half-breeds that managed to spring from unholy unions. “He was impressive,” she said cautiously. She picked up her coffee and took a sip, trying to wash down the food that now sat like a log jam in her throat. “Very realistic.”
“It was all an act. Kerr and I are behind you, Raine. Kerr will sponsor you. I will squire you.”
She dropped her cup down onto the saucer, splashing hot liquid over the rim. “Excuse me?”
“You’ll come up in the order through us.” Hugh’s unblinking stare was full of the kind of cold fire only the true zealots could muster. “Kerr wanted to throw Salazar off the track, make the old Spanish dog think he was agreeing against his will. He wants him to believe there is no alliance between us. If he consented easily, it would tip his hand.”
The world around her went momentarily out of focus. What she was hearing, what she’d dreamed of hearing, she couldn’t be hearing. And yet she was. The girl inside of her was thrilled speechless, but the analyst went on alert. Kerr did nothing without a reason. And he certainly did not set aside his hatred of Elves for the niece of his paladin. Kerr hated with far too rare a passion. What demands would come with this offer? “You’re too kind, Uncle. I couldn’t impose upon you. I agreed to take the oath with Ramon Salazar and Uller.”
“Raine, you’re a good girl. You’ve been around the Council your whole life. You know Ramon Salazar, the kind he consorts with, the way he plays the game.” He took a deep breath, released it, as if settling into some internal agreement with himself. He leaned a little closer to the table, but never lost that imperial bearing. “Reputation is everything for a knight. You are your word, your honor. You wouldn’t want to cast that into doubt by keeping the wrong company.”
/> Her thoughts whirled in a storm but she managed to bring them to heel. He was correct. Ramon Salazar was considered dangerous by some, disreputable by others, and a consummate player of the Game of Gods. His offer, however, was good. And unlike Kerr, he did not have the prejudices against anyone, or anything. Ramon was the ultimate pragmatist. “Can I consider your offer?”
The lines in Hugh’s craggy face tightened. He placed his broad, scarred hands upon the fine white linen-covered table. They looked powerful, dangerous, and monstrous. “I would think I raised you well enough you could make a simple decision. You would choose someone else over your own kin?”
She felt the sting, like a slap of cold ice water. “No, of course not.” She’d been apart from Hugh for a few years now, with only scant contact. She needed to remember he had little in the way of tolerance, or patience. She needed to be more careful with her words. “I’m surprised by the offer. It caught me off guard.”
Hugh nodded, and relaxed. The chair was dwarfed by his size. He carried himself like a king, and the opulent room seemed somehow shabby in comparison to his stark, dignified appearance. “There’s more.”
As expected. Everybody had an agenda in the Eternity Covenant, especially the Wardens. She picked up her coffee cup and used a spare linen napkin to clean the spilled beverage before drinking. “Is there?”
“You know the Wardens have been under the cloud of suspicion.”
“The conspiracy.”
He nodded tightly. “Kerr believes Salazar is behind it all.”
“He was the first to uncover the trouble.”
“Bast’s man Gideon did that. Were it not for him coming in to search for the first artifact and going rogue during the op, no one would be the wiser of the conspiracy. Salazar had no choice but to play along.”
ImmortalIllusions: The Eternity Covenant Book2 Page 3