Hot Magic

by Holli Bertram

  “The Council is handling the news of your bonding quite well. Especially since there is no chosen Balance in the wings, they may be open-minded about it. After all, there are no written rules against a Balance blood bonding. The fact that none has before you is beside the point. And there are certainly no rules against blood bonding with a demon hybrid.”

  Harrison shot him a wry look. “Only because no one envisioned the possibility. I don’t consider a week of intensive research into archaic laws and histories on bonding and mixed heritage, hours of non-stop questioning and endless debate as ‘handling the news well.’” He glanced at the wall clock again. Had the hands moved at all?

  “Obviously they haven’t read Words of Wisdom lately.” Bas didn’t look pleased at the idea.

  “There is no place in that whole damn book that talks about a Balance bonding with a demon hybrid. I wouldn’t have forgotten that part.”

  “Interpretation. Prophets aren’t allowed to say things straight out. Most prophecies are only realized after they happen.”

  “How very convenient for you prophecy writers.”

  “Not always.” Bas tapped his fingers against a side table, looking unusually morose. “Imagine watching people you care about heading towards a train wreck because they refuse to use the map you gave them.”

  “Words of Wisdom isn’t a map, Bas. It’s a word maze. You can’t blame two trains for crashing if you’re not clear what track they should be on.”

  Annoyance flickered in Bas’s eyes. “Having a book of prophecy doesn’t mean you don’t take responsibility for your life, your decisions and what track your train rides on. You have free will. I can’t interfere with that, no matter how much I might want to.”

  The pain in Bas’s voice stopped Harrison’s flip answer. He studied his enigmatic friend. “When have you wanted to interfere with someone’s free will?”

  Bas ignored him. “I saw Julie a few days ago.”

  The words distracted Harrison, as Bascule had no doubt intended. “How is she doing?” He hadn’t seen her since the day they’d made love in his office, over a week ago.

  “Getting antsy, like you. She wants to go home.”

  Harry bristled at the idea that he was getting ‘antsy’ and glanced at the clock again. “Has she asked to see me?”

  “No.”

  She hadn’t made a single attempt to join minds with him, either. “Does she understand why I haven’t been in contact with her?”

  “I explained how inappropriate that would be. She said that she’d hate for you to ever be inappropriate.”

  Bollocks. “What is she doing? How is she spending her time? Is she enjoying the clothes?” The full wardrobe of designer clothes had been Heidi’s idea.

  “She’s been engrossed in reading Words of Wisdom.”

  Harrison hadn’t meant for her to get that bored. “Wasn’t she provided with any movie she requested?” He’d envisioned her blissfully watching Jane Austen movies, crying at each happy ending.

  “Apparently she preferred my book,” Bas spoke smugly. “You should have mind touched with her, Harrison.”

  “Contact by the Council or the Balance with those coming for judgment is forbidden once they’ve been arrested.” He recited Section VII of the Council’s Policy and Procedure Manual.

  Bas looked less than impressed. “You already had contact with her after she was arrested. You blood-bonded with her, fought a demon with her and made her scream in your office.”

  Harrison ran a hand through his hair. “If I went to her, Bas, I wouldn’t be able to leave her.”

  Bas gave him a pitying look. “You should have told her that. You have a lot to learn about being part of a family.”

  A family. The words conjured feelings he didn’t know what to do with.

  “Family means sacrifice,” Bas said. “Sometimes it means ignoring rules, forgetting about work and spending way too much time worrying.”

  “How do you know? Have you got family?” Bas always traveled alone.

  “I consider you my family, Harrison. And believe me, I’ve got the breaking rules and worrying part down to an art.”

  “Bas.” He looked at the strong, enigmatic man who had been responsible for every good moment of his childhood. This man had brought him out of his black and white world and introduced him to a life full of color, a life shaded with gray. This man had sent him to Julie. He couldn’t find words to fit the emotion that weighted his chest.

  A deep bell tone vibrated through the air. Bas’s lips curved. “Showtime, my boy.”

  Harrison nodded. He turned to his desk and gathered the opinion papers of each of the Council members. “Julie will understand. She knows about duty.”

  Bas shook his head. He opened the door that led into the Council chambers and stood to the side to let Harrison enter the room first. Harrison paused before stepping through the doorway and put a hand on Bas’s shoulder. Bas was always present when he most needed him.

  When Harry didn’t move through the door, Bas gave him a questioning look. “Thank you.” Harry squeezed the other man’s shoulder, cleared his throat and walked toward Julie.

  Julie decided that whoever had designed the open, sunny Council chambers could re-do her living room when she won the lottery. Large floor to ceiling windows filled one wall, a brilliant gateway to the morning light. The sun warmed her cheeks and she smiled for the first time since she’d been confined to the Red Room. She reached out with what she’d begun thinking of as her mental hand and touched the light, comforted by its presence, comforted by her ability to access its power.

  A large, oval oak table sat in the middle of a deep red carpet. Linda, her constant companion, ushered her to the one white chair at the table. The Seat of Judgment. She gingerly sat in it, finding it quite comfortable. She and Linda were the first in the room. Her lawyers had been meeting with the Council for days. This morning, she would face them alone. This morning, she would finally see Harry again.

  She brushed the lapel of her black, silk blazer, wondering if she had over-dressed. No one had given her a dress code but she felt good in this outfit. The black pantsuit and white blouse were simple, elegant and powerful. While Julie would never hire her as a room decorator, Heidi had an amazing eye for clothes. Maybe when this was all over, she’d agree to a shopping trip with Julie.

  Julie turned to Linda, who had taken a seat to the right of her chair. “If the Council sees criminals in here, aren’t they afraid that the bad guys will use their power against them?”

  “The room is shielded. You can’t wield energy in here.” Linda fiddled with her brown leather vest, a conservative choice for her.

  Julie frowned and nudged a chair with her power, causing it to move an inch. Linda shot her a sharp glance but didn’t say anything. Obviously the shield didn’t work on her. Guess the Council never envisioned a demon hybrid in their midst.

  A door on the far wall opened, and her gut clenched as she turned toward it. Twelve people, six women and six men, none of them Harry, marched into the room. Each was dressed in a long white robe. Either a church choir had taken a wrong turn or these sober-faced individuals were the infamous Council.

  Unfortunately, nobody broke into song. The group silently approached the table and each chose a chair, leaving the one directly across from Julie empty. Linda had explained that council member wore a small symbol on the left shoulder of their robe—a triangle that was colored either yellow if a Dancer, blue if a Walker or green if a Penumbra.

  “Hello.” Julie smiled in an attempt to lighten the grim atmosphere. Linda groaned and nudged her sharply with an elbow.

  “Speak only when asked a question.” An older woman, a Penumbra, finally broke the outraged silence, her voice carrying a heavy German accent.

  “I’m sorry. My Guardian explained the rules to me, but I thought they didn’t start until the Council officially went into session.”

  The woman crossed her arms across a tiny bosom. “The Council i
s in the room.”

  But Harry isn’t. Julie kept a polite smile on her face and just nodded. No need to antagonize the people you need on your side.

  Her cell phone rang.

  “Didn’t you switch that off? Frau Scheller is going to freak,” Linda hissed anxiously in her ear.

  “I forgot.” Julie fumbled in her purse for her phone, saw the call was from Tasha and looked apologetically at the woman she assumed was Frau Scheller. “My daughter,” she whispered, hoping that whispering didn’t technically count as speaking. “She’ll worry if I don’t pick up.”

  Julie flicked open her phone, her eyes on the older woman, whose shoulders now looked as if she might have a case of premature rigor-mortis. “Bad time, Tash. Can’t talk.”

  “Mom, I just want you to know, when they find you guilty, we’re going to fight. We’ll get Grandpa to help if we have to—”

  “No!” She forgot to whisper. “Don’t. Do. Anything. Don’t let Grandma do anything. I’m going to be fine. I’ll call as soon as this is over.”

  A sharp movement beside her brought her gaze to Linda, who had buried her head in her hands. How unusual. Linda didn’t have headaches. Slowly, she swiveled to look at the Council members. Every person in the room stared at her, with the same stony expression. A shiver prickled up her spine. She swallowed. “Gotta go, Tash. I love you.” She quickly disconnected and turned the phone off. “So sorry.” She belatedly lowered her voice to a whisper again. “Kids—what are you going to do with them?”

  “Guardian, it is your duty to silence your charge.”

  Silence her charge? That didn’t sound good. Julie turned to Linda, who looked like she wanted to be sick.

  “Frau Scheller, I’d rather not. I don’t think it’s necessary.”

  Frau Scheller lifted an eyebrow. “That’s not your decision to make.” She nodded toward a younger member of the Council, a Walker, who sat beside her. “Mr. Kodak, you do it.”

  Mr. Kodak, short and husky with slick, dark hair, pushed back his chair, went to a desk in the corner of the room and then came to stand behind Julie. Before she could twist her head to see what he was up to, he slapped a piece of wide tape over her mouth. She couldn’t budge her lips. With a quick movement, he grabbed her wrists, pulled them behind her chair and clasped cold metal around them, probably so she wouldn’t tear the sticky stuff off her mouth. It all happened so quickly she didn’t have time to protest. In just a few seconds, Mr. Kodak sat back in his seat.

  Julie blinked, horrified. This was barbaric. She breathed deeply through her nose, and unexpected tears burned her eyes. Frau Scheller’s lips flattened in a satisfied smirk. Good Lord, who were these people? Were they all raised in rigid, cruel boarding schools? She needed to talk to Harry about changing the system. Harry. Julie didn’t want Harry to see her like this. She looked at Linda, silently asking for help.

  Linda bent her head toward her. “Shit. Scheller has a stick up her butt,” she muttered. “No energy wielding can occur in this room, which is how they get off using the tape and cuffs. Sit tight. The Balance will be here soon.”

  Which was precisely the problem.

  Every minute of every long hour spent locked in that room, she’d wanted to see Harry. At first, she’d truly expected him to contact her, reassure her. Then Bas had explained any contact would violate the Council rules.

  Ha! Surely a man who really cared about a woman, who made love to her with such exquisite tenderness and passion, would scoff at those rules. But no cake with a nail file appeared. No note slid under her door. Harry didn’t attempt even one, single, furtive mind touch.

  She forced herself to face reality.

  She’d given her heart to an insensitive, non-romantic, rule-bound man. The paranormal version of Darcy in Pride and Prejudice. More than that, she’d forced him into a commitment he hadn’t been ready to make. That was not something a proud man would take lightly.

  After her lightning bolt of insight, she’d then spent every moment wanting to see Harry so she could apologize. That phase, thankfully, didn’t last long.

  As time passed slowly in the Red Room, she’d fantasized about telling him to his face that he was a no-good bastard. She’d imagined explaining very clearly that her feelings were transient, induced by a mixture of post-traumatic stress and a midlife crisis. He was her shiny Porsche convertible.

  Now, finally, she was going to see him, and she was trussed up like a turkey. Life could be a bitch sometimes.

  Any normal demon hybrid would dissolve her bonds, free herself and hang Frau Scheller naked out the window by her toes. For a moment, she contemplated doing just that, the gleam in her eye bringing a panicked look to Linda’s face.

  But, no. To do so would be a clear indication that she didn’t hold herself accountable to the Council. Harry would be in even bigger trouble—bonded not only to a demon hybrid, but to a rogue demon hybrid who didn’t recognize the authority of the Triad.

  One of the men pushed a button embedded in the table, and a deep bell sounded in the room. Instinctively, Julie knew the bell called Harry. She straightened her shoulders, not even able to brush away the tears she felt sliding down her cheeks. With her stomach twisted into a tight ball, she watched a door on a side wall of the room slowly swing open. For a breathless moment, no one walked through. Then Harry, dressed in a long, black robe, stepped briskly into the room.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Harry’s gaze immediately found her. He stopped in mid-stride as if someone had pressed a pause button and freeze-framed him. Julie could read nothing in his expression. After one brief flare, the golden eyes blanked. Bas quickly sidestepped from behind him to avoid slamming into his back.

  Bas frowned and looked confused by Harry’s sudden halt. He glanced around the room and stiffened when he saw her. His hand immediately reached for Harry’s arm, as if to restrain him. Harry didn’t need restraining. If anything, he needed a push.

  Every bit of her wanted to wield energy, to open up the floor and drop through, to disappear from this mortifying situation.

  Instead, she raised her head and lifted her chin. She couldn’t look directly at Harry again. She wasn’t that brave. She looked at Bas instead.

  She thought she read a brief flick of compassion in his expression and that almost caused her tears to start flowing. Then he grinned and winked and she felt like he’d handed her some much-needed courage. Harry began moving again and walked to the table, taking the empty seat across from her. Bas stood behind him.

  “Why is Ms. Dancer gagged and cuffed?” Harry spoke calmly, not looking at her but at the Council members.

  “She broke the Council rules, Balance,” Frau Scheller responded.

  “Ha!” Linda spoke up. “She got a phone call from Tash, Balance. Her only crime is forgetting to turn off her cell phone.”

  Julie felt a rush of warmth and gratitude toward Linda. She couldn’t imagine that the Council looked very kindly on Guardians speaking up, either.

  “Ms. Dancer is not familiar with our ways,” Harry said quietly. “Release her. I’m sure she’ll show proper respect to the Council.” He still didn’t look at her.

  “Balance—” Frau Scheller began.

  “Release her.” The words snapped from him. The sharp edge of his tightly controlled anger caused Julie’s muscles to contract.

  Tension drummed in the room. Bas smiled easily and walked around the table until he stood behind her. “No need for anyone to get up. I’ll do it.”

  Bas gently lifted her wrists, and she felt the shackles loosen. He didn’t need a key to open the handcuffs. Apparently the shields on the room didn’t affect his ability to wield energy, either.

  Julie immediately brought her hands to her mouth and tugged at the itchy tape. She managed to get one corner free. The evil Frau Scheller must have bought special superglue-backed tape. This was going to hurt, big time. Okay, suck it up, Dancer. When you take off a sticky bandage, it’s better to pull it quickly, all at once
.

  Closing her eyes, Julie gripped the loose corner in her fingers and gave a mighty yank.

  The scream must have been hers. She didn’t want to open her eyes and look at the tape she’d dropped on the table, knowing her lips and a good portion of her cheeks were stuck to it. Was it possible to do lip transplants these days? Was she going to bleed to death?

  Bas’s hand covered the lower portion of her face, and she felt immediate relief from the stinging pain. “I would have removed the tape for you,” he murmured in her ear.

  The pain diminished and she could breathe again. Bas’s hand worked better than a morphine drip. Julie slowly opened her eyes and met Harry’s gaze across the table. The man looked like a slab of granite. Hard, no emotion, no concern.

  Why did she fall in love with men who didn’t give a flying fig about her? Okay, maybe she was wallowing in self-pity, but she couldn’t help it. Harry’s disinterest ripped at her soul. Even Bas couldn’t help her with this pain.

  Julie reached up to touch Bas’s hand. Harry’s eyes followed the movement. Her anger, built up over the days he’d ignored her, dissolved away in sorrow. They might be bound together by a blood ceremony, but Harry wasn’t hers and never had been. Harry belonged to the Triad. And the Triad needed him more than ever, with demons and Skaven popping up all over the place.

  She would not keep a man tied to her who didn’t want her. Besides, she had things to do, her own destiny to figure out. She didn’t need a man distracting her.

  She carefully removed Bas’s hand from her face, but kept hold of it for courage. Her lips felt almost normal. She looked around the table at the unsympathetic faces, bracing herself for what she needed to do. She cleared her throat. “I’m sorry for the scream. I don’t do well with pain.”

  “No apology required, Ms. Dancer.”

  Harry’s formal voice felt like a slap. Bas squeezed her hand. She looked up, directly at Harry. “May I address the court?”