by Leslie Chase
His grin at Lenore was genuine, and enough to make her heart flutter. Gina smiled too, giving Lenore a knowing look which made her blush again.
“Of course you did,” Gina said. “But unfortunately I don’t think there’ll be another chance to see the Sword any time soon. The owner didn’t feel it was safe at the museum, what with the fire alarm and everything, so it’s been dropped from the exhibition. It’s a shame, it really was something special, but at least it’s not part of the original India Museum collection.”
This doesn’t make any sense, Lenore told herself, struggling to keep her confusion off her face. Why is Dr. Addison covering up the theft? Why is the owner letting him get away with it? This wasn’t the time for such questions, though, not with Gina still there and watching. She composed her face as best she could.
“Dr. Addison’s very convincing, I’m sure he’ll get it back sometime. Maxwell can see it then, I guess.”
“You’re right, of course,” Gina said, standing. “Anyway! I shouldn’t impose on you two love-birds when you’re having lunch. Time I headed back to work, since someone’s not in the office to cover for me.”
With an affectionate wave to Lenore, she turned away and headed out of the cafe.
“My god,” Lenore said as soon as Gina was out of sight. “The whole thing was a set up.”
“A tiger trap,” Maxwell agreed, a thunderous frown on his face. “The Sword was the bait, and I walked right into it. And swept you into this sea of troubles, for which I’m sorry.”
“Don’t say that!” Lenore felt a stab of pain at his words, like an icy knife into her heart. “That’s the same as wishing that we’d never met.”
Maxwell sat silently brooding, staring out of the door onto the sunlit London street outside. After a moment, he shook himself and smiled, a smile which didn’t quite reach his eyes. Lenore shivered at the sight of it – it made her think of a tiger baring his teeth at prey, and though it wasn’t directed at her, it was frightening to see.
“Well. On the bright side, that means that I escaped the trap, and that the rest of this is mere improvisation on their part. That means they’ll make more mistakes, and that means I’ll have plenty of chances to repay Sir Daniel for his interest.”
“Why would he want you there, anyway?”
“Probably the plan was to take me by surprise when I came for the Sword,” Maxwell said thoughtfully. “Then Sir Daniel would have been able to do his ritual right away rather than having to chase me down later. And it would have been less risky for him, since the Sword’s theft would make the news, I’d have been looking for it anyway. I suppose the trap would have worked, too, if you hadn’t tackled the man with the gun.”
He gave her a disapproving look, which Lenore returned with a stubborn glare. “You can’t be angry at me for that,” she told him. “He’d have killed you!”
“Well, yes, but I don’t want you putting yourself in danger for my sake.” He had the grace to look a little sheepish at that, and she saw a flash of humor in his eyes. “I look after you, not the other way around.”
He reached across the table to take her hand, a firm and tender grip. “I want you to listen to me, Lenore. I could handle anything as long as you are safe, but losing you? No. If I die to keep you safe, I’ll call that a fair trade.”
“What if I feel the same –” Lenore started. He cut her off with a shake of his head and squeezed her hand tight, looking deep into her eyes, as though willing her to believe and trust him.
“I won’t let it come to that, for either of us. But I am trained for this kind of thing, Lenore. You’re not. If you take yourself into danger, I’ll have to worry about you more, and that will keep me from doing my best to keep us both safe.”
Reluctantly, Lenore nodded. He was right, she supposed, it had after all been blind luck that she’d achieved anything in that fight. She’d only be a liability in another.
“Alright, I promise. I’ll stay out of your way.” She squeezed his hand back. “But you have to promise to keep yourself safe for me then! Or, or I’ll pout!”
He chuckled, shaking his head. “We can’t have that! Very well, I promise too. I won’t take any chances.”
They sat back, smiling at each other, but Lenore couldn’t shake the feeling that this was one promise he wouldn’t be able to keep. Staying safely out of danger didn’t seem to be in Maxwell’s nature.
* * *
They arrived back at Lenore’s apartment in a somber mood, to find Penelope sitting at the kitchen table with her phone. She hung up as they entered, and smiled warily. Lenore thought that she looked about as cheerful as Maxwell.
“Hope you two enjoyed your lunch,” Penelope said, throwing her phone down on the table. “I’ve been busy while you were away having fun.”
“And what do the gracious Masters of the occult say?” Maxwell asked her, sitting down across from her and pulling Lenore into his lap. “Anything interesting?”
“You won’t like it,” Penelope warned. “I don’t like it much myself. They are taking it seriously.”
“That’s good, though,” Lenore said with a confused frown. “Isn’t it?”
“In some ways, yes,” Maxwell said, hugging her tight and sounding amused. “Usually, though, that means they’re going to ask me and Penny to put a stop to something. It sounds a little ominous when we’re asking them for assistance.”
He looked back at Penelope, and gestured for her to continue.
“Yeah, well, I don’t know exactly what they are going to do, Max. It’s going to take a meeting to decide, though - a threat to steal our power is serious enough that everyone I could reach wants it dealt with, but no one wants to have a hand in dealing with Sir Daniel themselves.”
“I suppose our family has been taking care of their messes for too long,” Maxwell sighed. “They aren’t happy getting their hands dirty. At least they are taking it seriously, though - I was half sure they’d just kick it back to us to deal with. So what’s the plan?”
“Just our luck, we caught a bunch of the Masters at the Castle, so they can get on the problem right away.” Penelope didn’t make that sound like good luck. “They want us to meet them there, as soon as we can.”
Lenore looked from one sibling to the other, confused. “What castle? Where?”
“Ah, it’s sort of the headquarters of the magical community,” Maxwell explained. “A little inconvenient but it’s tradition now - everyone just calls it the Castle, and I’m not sure it has another name anymore. It’s in the Highlands of Scotland, and calling a meeting there makes it pretty official.
“On the bright side, once we’re there, it will be impossible for Sir Daniel to act against us. The Castle is under centuries of wards from the greatest magicians in the world, I doubt that anyone alive could get through them. On the downside, I was hoping we’d be there while they deliberate. Since they are already there, we’ll have to trust them to make their plans without us.”
Lenore turned and smiled at him, trying to look on the bright side. “You know, I’ve never visited Scotland. And, well, getting out of town can only make us safer, right?”
“Right.” Maxwell didn’t sound very happy about it. “We can catch a flight this afternoon, if we hurry to arrange things, and then it’s a couple of hours drive to reach the Castle itself.”
“Already booked, Max,” Penelope said, not sounding very enthusiastic either. “Plus a bunch of other flights, just to confuse Sir Daniel if he’s watching for us.
“So we spend the evening traveling there, tomorrow seeing what answers the Masters have for us, and by the day after tomorrow you guys will be free of Sir Daniel’s attentions.”
6
The Castle
The castle loomed out of the fog above them as they drove up the hill. Old gray stone, a half-tumbled tower, ramparts that would see for miles in better weather – Lenore thought that, back in its day, this must have been a formidable stronghold. With less armies on the loose, ther
e was no need for that kind of protection these days, but it was still a daunting sight.
And who knew, maybe those defenses were still relevant to the magical community? Certainly they seemed more likely to be attacked than Lenore had ever imagined could happen in the modern world. Would granite walls keep out Sir Daniel and his hired thugs? She suspected the magical protections were more important than just the walls here.
They drove up to the entrance to the castle, slowing to a stop in front of the heavy wooden gates. She could see no sign of guards, or anyone at all, and Lenore wondered if they were going to have to sound the horn to attract attention.
Maxwell simply lowered his window and waited. The cold damp foggy air began to win the war with the car’s heating, and Lenore shivered, envying Penelope her cat-like ability to sleep. She’d put her head down as soon as they left Edinburgh, and hadn’t stirred since.
“Good evening, Max, see you made it at last,” a voice said beside the window, and Lenore barely suppressed a squeak of surprise. The man seemed to appear from nowhere, and was leaning against the car – a tall man, muscular, with long red hair, wearing just a t-shirt and jeans despite the cold and the damp.
“Angus!” Maxwell said, delight showing in his voice. He grabbed the man’s hand and shook it. “God, man, how long’s it been?”
“Too long, too long. And this fair lass must be your Lenore?” Angus looked past Maxwell to look at her, and smiled. “Aye, I knew you’d find yourself a good catch one of these days, but it looks like you’ve outdone yourself. Welcome to The Castle, miss, enjoy your stay. And try an’ keep this fellow out of trouble, right? If you need a hand, give me a holler.”
He waved towards the gate, which swung open with a loud creak. In the courtyard beyond, there were cars, motorcycles, and vans parked neatly, and several more men, as casually dressed as Angus, patrolling. Lenore couldn’t help shivering as she noticed the rifles some of them carried.
“Ach, don’t pay the guns any mind,” Angus told her, spotting her discomfort. “Me and my pack are providing security for this meeting, and we take that seriously, but there’s never been a need to use the guns yet. Better to be prepared and not need them than miss ‘em if we do, right?”
“I guess so,” Lenore had to agree. She’d been on the wrong end of too many guns since meeting Maxwell, and it would be comforting to be behind some gunmen who were on her side for a change. “I’m just not used to them, that’s all.”
He smiled at her, a disarming grin. “Well, that’s normal enough. Go on inside, and we’ll keep you safe out here.”
Maxwell nodded. “We’d best get inside, anyway. This whole party’s thrown on our account, after all! I hope we’ll have time to catch up while we’re here, Angus.”
“Count on it, man. You owe me a drink from last time, after all.”
With that, he stepped back and waved them on, and Maxwell drove into the courtyard to park.
“He seems nice,” Lenore ventured.
“He’s a good friend I don’t see often enough,” Maxwell said, smiling. “A wolf shifter; he and his pack live up here in the highlands. I’ll introduce you properly later.”
Lenore blinked at that, taken aback of course there would be other shifters, not just tigers. That just made sense, but she hadn’t thought it through before, and it took her by surprise. She felt a bit foolish about that, given that they were here to meet the leaders of the magical community; she realized she hadn’t really thought about who they’d actually be.
Maxwell got out and opened her door for her, helping her out of the car. Penelope woke with perfect timing, getting out and stretching. Lenore ached after the long drive, and could only envy the other woman’s easy grace – her own stretches made her feel clumsy and awkward.
The entrance of the castle was another huge wooden door, but stepping through that brought them into the warmth of a large hall. The space was only dimly lit, with lights above portraits of men who glowered down at the doors. Each man wore the same tartan, and Lenore assumed that they were the historical lords of the place.
There was one live man waiting to greet them too, holding a clipboard. He was old, rail-thin, and severe looking – the only splash of color on him was the tartan tie he wore, the same tartan as the lords in the portraits.
“Welcome, Mister Walters. Miss Walters,” he said, bowing his head to the new arrivals. “And to you, Miss Kimble. You must be tired from your journey – I shall show you your rooms, and you can freshen up.
“The Masters will meet you formally tomorrow at noon; until then, please enjoy the hospitality of the castle.”
Their room turned out to be at the top of one of the towers. The wind whistled around the castle, rattling the windows, and Lenore felt a chill draught as she stepped into the bedroom. The only heating came from a fireplace in the wall, though at least a fire was blazing merrily there.
She turned to look up at Maxwell, who laughed. “It’s not exactly got all the mod cons, no. But you have to admit it’s romantic, and when it’s light the view is fantastic.”
His arms slid around her and she melted into his embrace with a happy sigh. Kissing her, he lifted her over to the rug in front of the fireplace, laying her down gently on the soft fur. The heat from the fire warmed her quickly, and his face seemed to glow in its light. His finger traced her cheek, and he smiled down at her.
“Tomorrow, there’ll be a meeting and we’ll sort everything out,” he promised. “Tonight, we can forget our troubles and enjoy ourselves.”
“I like the sound of that,” Lenore admitted. “It’s been a long couple of days.”
“That it has. Here, let me help you relax.”
His kiss was warm and tender, and she felt tension leave her muscles as he pressed her back into the rug. She reached up for him, running her fingers over his cheek, feeling the roughness of his stubble. It was strange to feel him unshaved, strange but pleasant - an imperfection which made him more real. She slid her hand through his hair, pulling him to her, their kiss intensifying.
“Mmm,” Maxwell lifted himself, smiling down at her. “I thought you might be too tired from the journey…”
“No way,” Lenore said, smiling back. “You take me to a castle and put me in front of a roaring fire, you knew fine well I wasn’t going to be too tired for anything.”
He chuckled, lowering himself again, nuzzling into her neck, kissing her there. “Caught me,” he said, and gently bit, making Lenore yelp and shudder, her body arching under him. Her heart was pounding in her breast, and she felt her breath speeding up as he kissed his way down her neck, along her collarbone.
Maxwell’s hands stroked down her body, and slid up under her t shirt, his touch firm and confident as he stroked across her skin. She realized that she’d been aching for his touch, needing his hands on her body, and her breath caught as he lifted her top up. She raised her arms above her head and he pulled the top off, casually throwing it aside.
The cold air made her shiver in delicious contrast to the warmth of the fire and the heat of his touch.
With a hungry smile on his face, Maxwell looked her in the eyes. His face was inches from hers, amber eyes filling her vision. Lenore reached up, trying to pull him down to kiss her, but she couldn’t move him. She tried to rise up to meet him, and he pressed her back down onto the rug with one hand, his casual strength controlling her utterly.
She moaned in frustration, his lips so close to hers, but so unattainable. She knew she wasn’t going to get anything he didn’t give her, and that knowledge sent a pulse of pleasure washing through her. She was his, and that felt so perfectly right that it only made her want him more.
He chuckled, a dark, hungry sound which made her shiver. “You want something, darling?”
“You know what I want,” she replied with a whimper. “Please?”
His hand caressed her, feeling hotter than the flames of the fire, leaving a tingling trail of desire on her body as he moved it up to grip her breast
, fingers firm on her through the bra she still wore. Lenore threw back her head, biting her lip.
“I know,” he told her. “I know exactly what you want. But you’re not getting it unless you ask.”
Defiantly, she tugged on him, trying to pull him down to her. She might as well have pulled on a marble statue. His finger and thumb closed on her nipple, making her gasp, a lightning-flash of pleasure shooting through her at the touch of him. Resistance was impossible.
“Kiss me,” she moaned. “Touch me, please Maxwell - OH!”
His lips met hers, a forceful kiss pushing her down to the floor, and she could feel his hungry growl as their mouths met. Her hands slid down his back, around his waist, tugging at his pants, undoing his belt. In response, he stroked down her body, slipping his hand under the waistband of her skirt, brushing over the fabric of her panties.
The touch made her cry out into his kiss, a pulse of lust flooding her and destroying her control. He kept his touch light, frustratingly gentle, and delicately stroked her as she tried desperately to press her pussy to his fingers. Their kiss broke as Lenore whimpered and looked up pleadingly into his eyes.
He shook his head, rising to kneel beside her. “Not yet, darling. Not yet.”
“Please, Maxwell?” She panted, her face flushed, not ashamed to beg for his touch. She felt the need, the desire building in her. “Please, I can’t take much more of this!”
Looking down his body she saw how aroused her display was making him, the bulge in his pants was quite obvious. That only made things worse – staring at it, she could only think of him inside her, filling her, and his feather-light touch was an aching torment on her empty pussy.