Second Transgression

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Second Transgression Page 7

by Wendi L. Wilson


  The blood drains from my face as I jerk back. Panic races through my veins and I feel like I might throw up.

  “Asher knows?”

  “Hey,” she says softly, placing a gentle hand on my shoulder. “Don’t freak out. My stupid cousin doesn’t know anything. He’s just as clueless when it comes to this stuff as most boys. I was talking in hypotheticals. It’s obvious to anyone on the outside that there are hearts in your eyes when you look at him. And vice versa.”

  “Wh-what?” I stutter, sure I heard her wrong.

  “Oh come on, Rory. Don’t be obtuse. I can’t know for sure if Asher is at the l-o-v-e stage yet, but it’s completely obvious he cares for you. Even you have to see that.”

  She’s right. Asher lets me know he cares with every glance, every touch, every kiss. He doesn’t hold back, and his openness with his affection and devotion is one of the reasons I fell for him so fast.

  “I think you should tell him,” Lark suggests.

  “What? No. I can’t. I mean…I can’t, right?”

  “For someone who is so confident and powerful, you sure can be unsure of yourself sometimes,” she deadpans. “You can tell him, but you’re obviously not ready.” She leans in, locking gazes with me, her face earnest. “But when you are ready, you need to be honest with him and trust that he’ll be honest with you.”

  Though I’m wracked with anxiety over her suggestion, I can’t stop one corner of my mouth from tilting up into a half-smile.

  “When did you get so wise?” I ask.

  “I’ve always been this way,” she sasses back. “Now, in return for my sage advice, I demand chocolate in return.”

  She holds out a palm expectantly, and I roll my eyes.

  “Did you already eat the twelve bars I conjured for you last time?”

  “Don’t judge me,” she says, jiggling her palm expectantly.

  I bark out a laugh as I conjure a thick candy bar and drop it into her outstretched hand.

  “Yes,” she says taking a bite. “I’m so glad I made friends with you.”

  “Hey!” I protest, but she laughs and shoots me a wink.

  She breaks off half of the bar and offers it to me. I tell her to keep it and conjure my own treat, plus two cups of steaming hot coffee. We enjoy our snacks in silence, then I conjure away the empty mugs.

  “You know,” Lark says, breaking the silence, “it might be true that I’ve never been in love, but I know what love is, and I can honestly say that I love you. I know I joke about it sometimes, but it’s really true.”

  I glance at her, expecting to see a teasing glint in her eye, but there’s nothing but open, raw honesty in her expression. My eyes burn at the emotion that swarms over me, and I clear it from my throat.

  “I love you, too, Lark. I’ve never been close to anyone outside my family. And meeting you—having you here with me in this horrible place—you’ve been a miracle to me.”

  She clears her own throat before a chuckle rumbles out of her.

  “Okay, enough of the mushy stuff.” She pauses and shoots me a look from the corner of her eyes, mischief gleaming from the bright, black orbs. “I have an idea. You should conjure up something, like that watch you made the other day. I can put an honesty charm on it, and we’ll give it to Asher. You can ask him if he loves you and he has to tell the truth.”

  “Oh, my God,” I laugh, shaking my head at her. “You’re terrible.”

  “What? Come on, Rory, it’ll be fun.”

  “No,” I say, my voice rising up an octave. “I don’t want to force Asher to tell me whether or not he loves me.”

  “Ugh. Fine, party pooper,” she pouts. “Don’t ask him if he loves you. But I still say we should do it just to mess with him.”

  “And how is he supposed to explain where he got the watch when the guards or our instructors notice it?”

  Her face falls for a moment, but undeterred, she shrugs. “So make something else.” She points a finger toward the ceiling as inspiration strikes. “I’ve got it. Make a pencil. He always has one of those in his hand.”

  “I want no part of this,” I say firmly.

  “But Rory, I need you to deactivate my bracelet so I can cast the charm,” she whines. “I can’t do it without you.”

  “No, Lark,” I reply, my voice firm despite my smile. “I just told you I’m in love with him. What makes you think I’d help you trick him into revealing all his deepest secrets against his will?”

  She rolls her eyes and huffs out a breath before grumbling, “You’re no fun.”

  “I know. I’m so lame,” I say on a laugh.

  “So lame,” she repeats. “But I love you, anyway.”

  “Right back at you,” I say with a smile as I sit up and cross my legs in front of me. “But just because I don’t want to use a magical favor on Asher doesn’t mean we can’t practice. Give me your wrist.”

  She pulls herself up to mimic my position and holds her wrist out to me. I focus my mind and deactivate its magic, smiling as Lark breaths a small sigh of relief. As she magically pushes the air around the room, I conjure up a silver coin.

  “Here,” I say, placing it in her hand. “Use this.”

  “What kind of magical favor should I make?”

  “How about the honesty one you were talking about? Place the charm on it, then give to me. We’ll see if I can resist telling you the truth or not.”

  Lark tosses the coin to me and I catch it mid-air.

  “You don’t want to do it?” I ask.

  “Already done,” she replies with a gloating smile.

  “No way,” I say. “You barely held it for two seconds. You couldn’t have had time to enchant it that quickly.”

  “What’s your favorite part of Asher’s body?”

  “His lips,” I say without thought or intent.

  My eyes widen as I look down at the coin in my hand, then back up at Lark. Her smile grows, showing all her teeth.

  “Wow,” I say. “That’s crazy. It’s like I had no will or desire to resist answering your question.”

  “Yep,” she says, popping the “p” at the end of the word. “I’m just that good.”

  I shake my head, pinching the coin between two fingers. I hold it up between us and jiggle it for good measure.

  “No, seriously, Lark. In all honesty, I didn’t expect it work at all. Think about it. Magical ropes created by my powerful grandfather don’t bind me, and those are basically the same concept as a magical favor. So if something the son of Sebille painstakingly created to control the most powerful of Fae doesn’t affect me, does it make sense that a magical favor you whipped up in two seconds would have this much influence over me?”

  “I mean, I knew I was good at it, but when you put it that way…it seems strange, right?”

  I nod. “Yes. It is.”

  “Let me try again. I lobbed it on you so fast, you didn’t have a chance to prepare or even take a breath to see if you could feel the magic working. Now you know it’s charmed and that I’m about to ask you a question. See if you can fight it.”

  “Okay,” I say, stiffening my spine as I grip the coin tight in my palm.

  “Who’s the coolest Zephyr you know…outside your family, of course?”

  “You are.” My head jerks back, and I drop the coin to the mattress between us. “Holy crap. I couldn’t fight it. Not even for a second.”

  “This is huge, isn’t it?” she whispers.

  “Very,” I say, my eyes wide as saucers. “With magical favors as powerful as these, there’s no telling what Echo could accomplish.”

  “Well,” she says, swallowing thickly with a shake of her head, “I just won’t make any for him.”

  “You might not have a choice.”

  “There’s always a choice, Rory.”

  I know she’s right. But I have no desire to find out what our other options would be if we resist Echo’s demands when he finally decides to make them.

  “We are going to stop him before i
t comes to that,” I say, picking the coin back up. “If I could use this to make him tell me all of his plans, then it’s game over.”

  “That’s risky,” she says, a streak of fear in her eyes. “If he realizes you have it, he’ll know I made it. Which means he’ll know my bracelet was somehow deactivated. Our entire plan would fall like dominoes.”

  She’s right. It is risky, and I’ll have to think long and hard about the consequences before I decide to jump in and slip the thing in his pocket or something.

  “Can I hang onto this?” I ask before reaching out to reactivate her bracelet.

  “Of course,” she replies with a smile as she stands to leave. “I have your back. Anything you need, just ask.”

  “Thanks, Lark.”

  “You got it,” she chirps. “And just so you know, I think you’re the coolest, too.”

  With that, she twirls in a halo of black hair and skips to the door. Once she’s gone, I lay back and turn the coin over and over with my fingers. I want to use it on Echo, but I don’t know if I can risk Lark like that. He could do whatever he wants with her, and there’s no one to question him or his motives.

  No, I have to play this smart. My friend’s life could depend upon it.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Today, for those of you who possess the skill, I want you to incorporate conjuring into your fighting strategies. Using your physical skill and elemental control are great, but if you can also use conjuration for your own benefit, you’ll be a triple-threat no one can best.”

  My eyes flit to Jolene as Chase’s words make me think of her amazing ability. Of course, she doesn’t dare conjure and animal here, but if she could…wow. These inmates would lose their minds.

  “Okay, pair up,” Chase calls out, bringing my attention back to him as he flips a switch that deactivates the gold bracelets.

  “Want to be my partner?”

  My gaze meets the azure eyes of Asher, who’s waiting with an expectant grin on his face. He knows I won’t turn him down, but he also thinks he has the advantage. He’s bigger, stronger, and a better fighter than me, and I’m shackled by the desire to keep the true extent of my magical ability under wraps.

  But I also have a burning desire to bring my self-assured boyfriend down a peg or two. I shrug.

  “It’s your funeral,” I say in a bored, flippant tone.

  And totally ignore the fact that I just referred to him as my boyfriend in my thoughts. While I know I love him, I have no idea how he defines our relationship in his own mind.

  “Oh,” he laughs, “challenge accepted, Miss Finley.”

  He winks, then turns to stride across the gym to an open area on the other side. I follow him, stopping several feet away. We face each other and widen our stances, each waiting for the other to attack first. Before he moves, I quickly scan the area for cameras and find no less than three trained right on us from different angles.

  Well, crap. I’m not going to be able to slip anything extra into this match. Of course, maybe I should show off a little—seeing something special from me could nudge Echo into scheduling another tutoring session.

  While I contemplate the possibilities, Asher strikes. Wind whips around me, throwing me off balance as he moves in closer. I throw up a hand and conjure a wall of wood. Eight feet tall and six feet wide, it cuts off Asher’s wind and his physical advance.

  Wood is probably one of the easiest things to conjure, being a natural resource linked strongly with earth. So it won’t raise too many eyebrows that I created it. But if Echo is watching, I think the speed in which I did it will intrigue him. At least, that’s the hope.

  Asher rounds the edge of the wall with a grin on his face, and I call to air, creating my own gust of wind to hold him back. He easily redirects it and continues his advance.

  Think, Finley.

  I know I can’t let him get close enough to engage. While I’ve learned a lot about physical combat, I’m nowhere near Asher’s level of competence. Not many are.

  I call to water, fire, and wind simultaneously. The mixture of elements creates a large, dark cloud in the air above us. I pump more power into it, and the rumble of thunder fills my ears as the cloud flashes white with electricity.

  The strategy is kind of perfect—the cloud obscures us from Echo’s stupid surveillance cameras and everyone will assume Asher created the storm. It is his specialty, after all.

  “Using my own tricks against me? Smart. I like it.”

  “You know, December Thorne created a storm like this and used lightning to kill Queen Sebille,” I say, my voice taunting as I rotate to keep him in front of me while he moves. “If she hadn’t done that, Zephyr-Sylph relationships would have remained illegal and you never would have been born.”

  He nods with a big smile. He gets what I’m saying without me actually saying it. My mother excels at creating lightning storms…so much so that she managed to kill the strongest Zephyr that ever lived with one.

  This type of thing is in my blood. His “tricks” are mine, too.

  I can feel him trying to push the cloud up and away from us, but while we’re obscured by the dark storm, I don’t have to downplay my ability as much. I hold on to it tightly, and Asher quickly drops his attempts and changes tactics.

  He leaps forward, bringing himself within striking distance. Before he can lash out, I call to earth, and vines burst through the floor to wrap around his ankles. He pulls against the bonds as two more snake up and tighten like a vise around his wrists.

  I know they won’t hold him long—he’ll use his own affinity for earth or even fire to get rid of them—so I leap forward while there’s still time. Using wind to accelerate my advance, I jump with an outstretched leg and plant my foot in the center of his chest.

  Thrown off balance by the vines around his ankles, the impact topples him, and he lands on his back with a grunt. My momentum takes me forward, and using wind to guide my movements, I land on top of him, straddling his chest. I push one forearm into his throat and bring my face close to his.

  “Yield,” I bark, hoping the command sounds fierce and not as giddy as I feel.

  I can’t believe I just pulled that off. Asher smiles, and I return it.

  “I yield,” he says.

  I pull my arm from his neck and release the vines twined around him. Before I can blink, our positions are reversed. My back is flat against the gym floor and Asher’s weight is holding me down.

  “Hey, no fair. You conceded,” I whine.

  “All’s fair in love and war,” he growls.

  He’s on his feet and pulling me to mine before I can react to that statement, which is probably a good thing. My mind is spinning at his use of the word love, even if it was rhetorical. He pulls me toward the wooden wall I conjured, stopping beside it.

  “Can you make three more of these?” he asks.

  I stare at him in confusion until he points in three directions. My eyes widen as I realize he wants me to box us in, separating us from everyone else. Without a second thought, I throw up the walls.

  They’re barely in place before Asher’s mouth is on mine and his arms are locked around me. His hands grab my butt and lift me up against him, and I wrap my legs around his waist. His strong sense of urgency assails me, and my need spikes to match Asher’s. He backs me into one of the walls, pressing me against it by leaning his delicious weight into me.

  “I never knew,” he mutters between kisses, “that getting trounced by my girlfriend would be so hot.”

  My body freezes as my eyes fly open. Asher feels my tension and opens his own eyes, meeting my gaze with a worried expression.

  “What’s wrong?” he asks, pulling me away from the wall and setting me on my feet. “Is this not okay? I’m sorry if I was too aggressive.”

  I’m shaking my head before he finishes, and his mouth snaps shut. He takes a small step back to put some space between us. I hate it, so I move forward, closing the gap once more.

  “Did you just
call me your girlfriend?” I ask, curling my arms around his neck.

  His gorgeous mouth curls up. “I guess I did. I know it’s weird, considering we’re locked up in prison and all, but I’ve thought of you that way for a while. I care about you, and I’m pretty sure you care about me, right?”

  I swallow hard and nod.

  “Good,” he says, his smile growing even bigger. “So, Aurora Finley Oberon, will you be my girlfriend, officially?”

  He mouths my name silently in case anyone is near enough to hear, but the fact that he uses it instead of just Rory makes a dam inside my heart snap.

  Asher York has spent his whole life feeling less-than because of his heritage. I’ve spent mine keeping myself separate from everyone outside my family because I could never know their true motives in trying to get close to me. Yet here we were, wrapped in each other’s arms.

  His affection and belief in me allowed me to open my heart to him. My confidence in him and acceptance of his true self allowed him to feel self-confident enough to ask me to be his girlfriend. Me—Princess Aurora Finely Oberon. But also me—Rory Finley.

  “Yes,” I breathe, “I’m your girlfriend.”

  I use those words intentionally, rather than saying I’d be his girlfriend. I already am, though we hadn’t defined it until this moment.

  And while I didn’t come here to meet a boy, I did. I have learned so much from him. About him as a person, about the Fae community as a whole, about myself. I fell in love.

  Asher’s smile lights up his face and he presses his mouth to mine in a gentle kiss. A kiss meant to seal our newly official relationship status.

  A strong urge to say those three little words to him wells up inside me, but I stomp it back down. Asher admitted he cared for me, but he never said love. It’s too soon, and I can’t risk scaring him off if my feelings run deeper than his.

  “I guess we better come out of hiding before they send in a search party,” he teases, ending our kiss with a series of playful nips.

  “You’re probably right,” I sigh.

  “To be continued?”

 

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