“What brings you here tonight?” Eloise asked when it became apparent Rennert was neither interested in carrying the conversation nor swayed by her generous assets.
“The convention interests me,” he answered tersely. Jenira recalled Cat's research. The gathering was hosted by Davis Tech, one of Rennert Industries' strongest competitors in the security field. It was more a meet-and-greet than anything else, and Cat had said the party was merely an arena for the preening Elite. The jewels and dresses on display were a blatant display of wealth. Eloise's diamonds alone could fund an entire nuclear fusion plant.
“Excuse me, but I believe I see Mr. Davis.” Rennert stepped around Eloise, an astonishing feat considering the woman had draped herself across his other arm. Without another word to the redhead, he steered them away. His hand rested on Jenira's lower back, propelling her forward. The warmth comforted and distracted her even as the jilted woman's eyes followed them, targeting Jenira with anger and envy.
Jenira dismissed the woman and mentally recalled what she remembered about Stanley Davis. The top executive of Davis Tech, Davis was the opposite of Rennert - he loved being a media darling. He was roughly ten years older than Rennert but still handsome, youthful, and a permanent bachelor according to the gossip forums. Jenira had listened as Cat briefed her on his products, but she'd had difficulty separating the useful information from Cat's mechanical jargon.
Davis also employed magic users, but if Rennert was correct, none of them had been a victim of the mage murders. Jenira considered this suspicious, and she suspected his presence had inspired their attendance. Calhigh hosted Davis Tech's central office, but the company wanted to construct a large facility in Brenville, and Cat believed the party was an excuse for Davis to butter hands so the extension into Brenville progressed smoothly.
The owner formed the center of a small group of Elite. Three of the men placed possessive arms around the decorations hanging on them, each woman more beautiful than the next. Jenira felt plain next to the elegance of most of the partygoers, but it didn't stop the women from glaring at her jealously. Davis didn't have a companion. Tall and leanly built with silvery blonde hair, his face was pleasant and cultured. Jenira compressed her magic; if one powerful Magitech lived in the Eastern Territory, there could be two. She suppressed a shudder at the thought but kept her expression impassive.
The large man standing to the left of Davis marked their approach and conversation stalled. Davis's face creased in a welcoming smile, but Jenira noted it didn't reach his eyes. The businessman bristled with tech, and she wondered how many electronics he possessed on his person. She rarely detected tech, but her magic jangled with conflicting signals. The only other magic in the group was encapsulated within the beauty and youth amulets the women, and a few of the men, wore.
“Rennert, old boy,” Davis boomed, attracting the attention of almost everyone in the vicinity. Jenira sifted through their emotions for anything useful. Davis shook Rennert's hand kindly and turned his attention to Jenira. He must have possessed a charm which deflected magic because she couldn't identify his feelings, but the interest in his eyes as they traveled the length of her body wasn't difficult to decipher. “Who might this be?” He captured her hand and brushed his warm lips over her knuckles, maintaining eye contact. His stare disturbed her, and his presence tolled an alarm in her mind.
“This is my escort for the evening. Jen Dering, meet Stanley Davis.” Rennert endeavored to match Davis's friendly tone, but the hand at her back vibrated with tension and his emotions matched.
“A pleasure to meet you, Ms. Dering.”
“The pleasure is mine, Mr. Davis,” Jenira replied. His lips curved, and he finally released her hand. Rennert captured the same hand and tucked it into the crook of his arm, drawing her body closer to his. The possessive gesture didn't go unnoticed, and Jenira wondered at the reason for it. Was Rennert trying to provoke him? Tension hovered over the group as Davis and Rennert assessed each other like alpha males facing off before battle.
“How is the relocation going, Davis?” Rennert asked after a lengthy silence.
Davis settled back on his heels, his chest puffed out in pride. “Very well, Rennert, very well. I shall be a card-carrying member of the Brenville market within the year.”
“It will be a pleasure to host you.” Any techie might think his words sincere, but Jenira's empathy spell identified the sarcasm. Davis's gaze flashed, and she questioned whether he caught the underlying tone or if he merely imagined a slight. Rennert's greeting soothed the tension and conversation began again. The topics revolved around the market, stock shares, and top products. Jenira listened with half an ear, noting behaviors and emotions more than words. The women talked amongst each other without interrupting the men or stood silent and bored. Davis interjected with the occasional word, but his attention remained more on her than the conversation. That he wasn't affected by her distraction spell was another thought-provoking discovery.
Rennert rarely spoke unless asked a direct question and then he only gave a short answer. He snagged two glasses of champagne off a passing tray and handed one to Jenira, and she sipped as she listened, enjoying the tickle of bubbles in her throat. Her magic prevented her from getting drunk so she could enjoy the expensive beverage with no repercussions. Just when Jenira began to think nothing would arise amid the dry talk and her calves ached from the heels, the conversation took an interesting turn.
“Davis, old man,” the fat man beside the businessman crowed, “how are the mages underneath you holding up? I've heard of some mass exoduses because of the recent scares.”
Jenira tuned in. The man might have been planted by Rennert because of the perfect lead-in, but she sensed his shock. Anger mingled with the surprise because the man referred to the killings as nothing more than a scare. He disrespected the victims and their families. For the first time, Davis showed discomfort. He scowled at the large man, but the speaker’s drunken haze prevented him from understanding. The alcohol blurred his emotions, preventing Jenira from obtaining a clear read.
“I protect my employees well.” Davis's tone didn’t betray his discomfort. “They're worried, but a random hate group operating in three different cities is not much of a threat.”
“That is true,” the drunken man agreed. “The mages can protect themselves, too. Can't believe they even got to the last ones.” Rennert's anger spiked, and Jenira controlled her own irritation with difficulty.
“Now, Guthrie, this is not proper conversation around the ladies.” Jenira resented that her gender and not common decency rendered the topic disturbing. She wanted to hear other opinions on the matter, but Davis's words terminated the discussion. Guthrie cleared his throat, his face flushing as he muttered a quiet apology.
“Shall we mingle?” Rennert’s lips brushed her ear. Her attention had been elsewhere, and she wasn't expecting his deep voice so close or his breath on her neck. She shivered and nodded, and he spun her away from the group.
“Rennert.” Davis followed after them, and they had to stop or appear rude. “I'm holding a meeting in a month's time about how to manage the cooperation of the two most powerful tech companies in Brenville. I'm sure you'd like to attend.”
“Indeed I would. Send the information to my office.”
Davis nodded and turned to Jenira. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Ms. Dering.” Jenira offered him what she hoped looked like a genuine smile. Despite the unease he evoked in her magic, he acted gentlemanly towards her. “I hope we meet again,” he added. She nodded, knowing she was supposed to. Her manners were rusty because she hadn’t had to use them in a long time. Rennert led them away, snagging another glass of champagne as they passed a waiter.
“Are you learning anything?” he asked, his lips again brushing her ear as they maneuvered through the crowd.
“Nothing of consequence.” Her sudden intake of breath prevented him from responding, and her heart beat faster as she stared at a group of newcomers mingl
ing near the foot of the stairs. There, in an expensive suit of deep blue, stood the rich Elite who had harassed her at the gym. She tugged on Rennert's arm, steering him towards the edge of the crowd and out of eyesight of the approaching man. Her escort raised his brow in curiosity.
“That man may recognize me,” she explained, both embarrassed and flustered. She should have guessed she might encounter Pretty Boy in this crowd. Rennert slid a covert glance toward the man she indicated with a flash of her eyes. His jaw tightened.
“And how does the most notorious playboy in Brenville know you?”
Jenira continued to maneuver them through the crowd, keeping her back toward Pretty Boy. An undercurrent of jealousy threaded through Rennert’s emotions; she would have examined the discovery further if she weren’t so worried about being recognized.
“I might have held a dagger to his balls,” she whispered. Rennert's jaw twitched again, but genuine amusement replaced the jealousy. “He approached me at my training gym and tried to come onto me, and I informed him I wasn’t interested.”
“With your dagger,” Rennert finished, and she nodded. “Well, I'd hoped we might learn more, but we can't risk him recognizing you. He’s prone to making scenes and is probably drunk already. Travis Davenport doesn't forgive slights to his narcissism.” Jenira stifled a groan. She hadn't recognized Davenport's face, but the name was familiar. Like Rennert said, he was the most notorious playboy in the city. He threw his money around like it was disposable and slept his way through the ranks of Elite women, whether they were attached or not.
Rennert took the lead, shielding her behind his large body until they stepped out of the building. The media still stalked the grounds, and Jenira remained behind Rennert as they waited for the car. She slid into the leather seat and maintained a careful expression until they passed the cameras. Out of sight of the venue, she groaned in pain and reached for her feet. The slit of her dress revealed skin all the way to the top of her thigh and Rennert paused an unnecessarily long time at the stop sign, examining every inch of her exposed flesh. Jenira tried to ignore his interest as she unwound the straps. She'd had to release the empathy spell, but she didn't need it to read his emotions. Lust saturated the heavy air between them.
Finally, he tore his gaze away and drove back to the Rialto. When the ignition had been stopped, he turned toward her. His size was intimidating in the small space, and she sank back against the window, irritated he had such an effect on her.
“Are you going to flash away?”
She had been considering doing just that. Rennert’s eyes burned, his shield released. His magic hummed around him, the golden glow filling the cab. Cinnamon and sandalwood filled the air. Magic could be complicated to grasp or see, but Jenira swore she saw, heard, and tasted his power.
When she didn't respond, he leaned away from her. “I'd like to talk about tonight before you run away.”
Jenira sighed. Her feet ached, her face hurt from controlling her emotions, and Rennert's power threatened to accomplish what the champagne couldn't. The empathy spell had been difficult to maintain because it wasn't one of her natural abilities, and the strain of overreaching was exacting its toll. But talking about the event while it was fresh in their mind was the best business decision.
“Ten minutes,” she relented.
“OK, ten minutes, but let's go up to my apartment. It's better shielded and more comfortable.” Jenira bit her lip, considering. Cat couldn't monitor them in the penthouse, but she could phase at any time and relay the information to Cat later. She also had the poisoned needles as a backup if things went horribly wrong. Rennert didn't deserve to be drugged, but his presence chipped away at her crumbling sanity. His eyes focused on the lip caught between her teeth and she considered phasing anyway. It took effort to think professionally.
“Ok.”
He climbed out of the car and opened her door. She rose to her feet, wincing as she again balanced on the unstrapped heels. Once in his suite, she sank into the nearest chair and removed the torture devices from her feet. He watched her with a dark gaze, leaning his large form against the door.
“This is just because my feet are fucking killing me, not because I’m staying.” She didn’t want him to get the wrong idea. The cut of the dress again revealed the length of her leg as she unfastened the last lace and pulled the shoes off. Sighing in pleasure, she relaxed back into the comfortable armchair she'd chosen. Rennert remained as still as a statue, and she sent him a questioning glance. Part of her loved unnerving him so thoroughly and parts of her hated it because he caused a similar reaction within her. He shook himself, crossed to the bar in the corner of the room, and poured a drink.
“Would you like anything?” His amber gaze assessed her over the rim of his glass.
“No.” She melted into the leather, unable to resist its comforting embrace. He prowled across the room again and sat facing her. The narrow mahogany table didn't put enough space between them, and she felt the exact second he released his magic from its tight coil. His presence swelled even more substantially than his physical form, his aura glowed, and his eyes lightened to molten gold.
“You must be exhausted from the effort of containing so much magic,” Jenira observed.
“I could say the same for you. You haven't fully released your shield around me yet.” She straightened her spine, extricating herself from the chair with difficulty. The degree to which he sensed her power continued to shock her. “I would say it isn't fair, but I won't push you,” he continued.
She breathed a quiet sigh of relief. If she released her power, it would reach for his. Her magic was lonely; it wanted to enjoy the company of its own kind. Even now, her weariness couldn't prevent seeking tendrils from trying to breach the separation between them.
“What about the evening?” She asked, forcing her mind from their magic. He sipped his drink, and Jenira wondered if the liquor affected him or if he just liked the taste.
“I learned nothing I didn't know already.”
“The crowd was a mix of greed and lust, and I didn't sense anyone hiding anything, except Davis.”
“Davis?”
“His emotions were unreadable or shielded tightly which suggests he had an interference spell or a form of tech which disrupted my magic. Whatever method he used to block me, it was impressive because empathy abilities typically work no matter the environment. He was also interested in me despite my distraction spell.”
“I'm not surprised on either account. Davis is as dedicated to Integration as I am and his company might even match our level of production. I can't decide whether to suspect him or not; he hires as many mages as I do and treats them well from all accounts. And yes, he was very interested in you. It could be as simple as your beauty; he's been known to love the ladies. You didn't threaten to cut off his balls too, did you? I was hoping no one would recognize you.” Amusement rang in Rennert’s voice.
“Yes, that was an unfortunate coincidence. Davenport should not have been at my gym; it's the wrong side of town.” Rennert's eyes narrowed at the suspicion in her tone. Pretty Boy's presence at the gym had seemed suspect at first, now it was even more disturbing.
“Where do you train?” Jenira ignored the question, and he continued. “He might seem harmless, but I would exercise caution; it's rumored he has ties to the mob.” Jenira's brows drew together. She had experience with the mob and didn’t want more. Maybe it was for the best she wasn't returning to that gym after all.
“Anything bad enough to put out a hit on him, boss?” she asked with a wry grin, lightening the mood. He answered with a smile, and Jenira's heart stopped in her chest. He was less formidable when he smiled; the weight of his Magitech existence didn't weigh so heavily on his shoulders. His aura glowed brighter, forcing Jenira to pull back her eager magic.
“Unfortunately, no, but we should keep him in mind. He still seems suspect, especially since he knows your face and might have been looking for you.”
“Anything else?” She rose from her chair, eager to escape his tempting power. He stood as well, scanning her face.
“You did well tonight, Jen. It's a shame Davenport cut our night short, but it was a long shot. I'll message you with our next meeting time. We should check in often to exchange any new information.”
Jenira cocked her head at him. It sounded like a thinly veiled excuse to see her, considering she wouldn't conveniently acquire any new answers. Cat had researched all she could with her particular brand of wizardry.
“Ok,” she agreed.
Her eyes met his, and an internal battle waged. She made a hasty decision. She and Cat had agreed to trust Davin Rennert, or maybe that was just the excuse she used. High on the relative success of the evening, affected by his power, and weary of hiding, she dropped her shield completely.
Rennert's breath hitched, his golden eyes widening. She pictured herself from his point of view. Her power outlined her form with dark blue and silver colors; her eyes darkened to cobalt with a burst of silver. His magic sprung towards her so quickly, she couldn't stop it. It nudged hers and sparked a bolt of energy which shot straight to her core. Her magic bounced happily, begging to twine with his. Every hair on her body stood up and her skin tingled. His arm rose as if to touch her physical form and a small measure of reason returned. She phased away, enduring her magic's cry at the emptiness that replaced his golden power.
Chapter Ten
Cat
Cat slipped from the bungalow into the balmy morning air. Unlike Jenira, she missed the crisp cold of the north. Her typical outfit of cotton pants and oversized t-shirts seemed like overkill in the humid warmth of the south. She rarely went outside, though, and they'd equipped the bungalow with fans to keep her body and electronics from overheating.
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