Enchanter's Embrace

by A R DeClerck

  Her skin was soft, darker than his thanks to her Italian ancestry. “So beautiful,” he whispered, hungry to taste every inch of the café au lait spread out before him.

  Time did not exist as they touched each other. Exploring, learning where the other was most vulnerable to touch and taste. At last, he was poised over her, staring down at her face and Archie knew he had reached some heaven that had always been locked to him before her.

  “I will keep you safe,” he promised her. It was a vow, but she pushed it away with her fingers on his lips.

  “We will protect each other,” she told him, lifting her hips so that he was within her body in a long, smooth slide. He shuddered at the feeling of her body around his own. The slick, wet heat was nirvana.

  “For now, we forget what waits out there,” she told him with another roll of her hips.

  “I cannot think of anything but you.”

  The last moments were a haze, lost in the fog of lust and love. He did not know how long they moved against each other, straining for the peak of their desires. When it came it burst upon them, and they were limp when it was over.

  He moved carefully so that he would not smother her beneath him, but he could not bear to have his body too far from hers.

  She turned, her leg covering his, her head on his shoulder. “You have ruined me, Mr. Merriweather.”

  He was speechless for a moment and frantic when he could speak. “I thought you wanted...”

  She cut him off with a chuckle. “I am ruined for you, Archimedes. There will never be another man for me. As for society’s ideas on love and marriage, let them hang.”

  The breath that escaped was shaky with relief. He pulled her closer, pressed a kiss deeply against her sugarplum lips. “I will marry you, Lucia. Whenever and however you please. Now, if it matters.”

  “And I will marry you, Archie. But, only after this mess is resolved. I want nothing to stand in the way of our happiness together.”

  “As you wish, darling.”

  “I’ll never tire of hearing that you know.”

  “And I’ll never tire of saying it.”

  Her hands wandered over his stomach and made him groan with delight. Was there nothing this woman could not do, he wondered as she rekindled the fire between them.

  “We have a bit before we must dress for the ball. Would you do me the honor of thoroughly debauching me, Mr. Merriweather?”

  Her teasing, naughty look had him laughing. How long had it been since he had laughed? He rolled with her, capturing her body beneath his, loving her signs and moans. “Why yes, Ms. Conti, I believe I can.”

  Summer Ridge had become a magical place in less than twelve hours. As the snow continued to fall outside the Romani had outdone themselves under Elizabeth’s guidance. The house was ethereal in the setting sun, the ballroom as elegant and refined as any Archie had ever seen in London.

  “Are you all right?” Bastion asked as he caught Archie daydreaming again.

  “Fine.” Archie wanted to share with his friends the reason for his sudden fit of imagination, but he knew Lucia would never forgive him for divulging such private information. “Tell me we’re prepared.”

  “As we can be.” Bastion moved back to a corner and Archie followed. They had agreed that no one at Summer Ridge could be trusted to know their plans. “You’ve warded the perimeter and the electric fence is running again. Stella has two of her brothers manning the furnace and filling it with coal by the armloads to keep the steam running.”

  “Have you seen Machiavelli?”

  “I have not. I am under the impression he is flying about the estate.”

  Archie nodded thoughtfully. “Grayson seems...normal?”

  “Tied to the widow’s hip, but as well as a man with a young man’s obsession can be.” Bastion smiled. “He seems fine.”

  “Have any of the others been acting strangely?”

  “Not from my view.” Bastion crossed his arms. “The townsfolk will begin arriving any moment. Should we allow this to continue if there’s bound to be violence?”

  “We must. The perpetrators have something planned for this ball. I feel it in my gut.”

  “They must know we suspect something is afoot. Otherwise we’d have gone back to London by now.”

  “I’d rather have them wary of us.”

  “Yes. I regret I cannot assist in the ballroom tonight.”

  “No need for regret. Your place is with the sick. Apothecaries are not meant for offensive magics.”

  Bastion looked thoughtful, but only nodded.

  “Make sure the children stay in the west wing tonight. No matter what happens, you must keep them safe.”

  “I fear we are not the targets, Archie. There will be wizards among the townsfolk. More than not, I’d wager. This could end up a bloodbath if the Lacking and their sympathizers are behind this whole mess.”

  “We’ve employed more than magic here tonight. I spoke with the elder Trimble and we have constructed these.”

  Bastion held the rod, about six inches long and smooth, in his palm. “What is it?”

  “He termed it an ‘EMP’ device. It will emit a pulse that will disable any other electrically driven machine in the vicinity. If the Lacking are planning the slaughter of wizards, we will be ready to fight back with their very own science.”

  “Brilliant.” Bastion handed the rod back to Archie, but he waved it away.

  “I’ve my own. That one is for you. Carry it in your pocket tonight, and press the tip with your thumb if you feel you need it. Every electrified thing within ten feet will be nullified.”

  Bastion pocketed the rod. “Pray we don’t need it.”

  “I pray for more than that. It is my hope that Dooley and Wicket were truly behind all of this and we have become too suspicious in our dotage.”

  “If only.” Bastion clapped Archie on the shoulder and left, and Archie stared out over the empty dance floor with a frown. As much as he wished that he were wrong about the ball, he knew it in his gut that violence would happen here tonight.

  “Adept Merriweather!”

  He turned at Elizabeth’s soft call. She hurried to him in her turquoise satin and lace, as beautiful as a dream. She stopped in front of him and took his human hand in her gloved hands.

  “I wish to apologize for my behavior. I was not feeling myself when I kissed you.”

  “I took no offense. I know it’s been a trying time for you.”

  She was lovely, but she lacked something that Archie could not immediately name. The hand of God drew her face and stature, but there was no fire in her bright blue eyes. Nothing about her drew him like a moth to a flame.

  “That is why you are a gentleman of the highest level. Thank you for all you have done, Adept. I hope you can enjoy yourself here tonight.”

  “Elizabeth...”

  When she waited patiently for him to go on, he sighed.

  “You must understand that Dooley and your husband may not be gone from Kensington. I fear they plan to attack the ball.”

  “Oh.” She drew up her shoulders and raised her chin defiantly, despite feeling shaken. “Then I am glad you are here should that terrible possibility actually occur.”

  “I am simply telling you to be careful tonight.”

  “I trust you, the captain, and Lucia will be on your guard?”

  “Always.” It was almost a threat between them, but she did not seem to notice.

  “Then I have no need to worry! Grayson will be my escort, and he is capable of protecting me, should I need it.”

  “Undoubtedly.”

  “Wonderful! I must check in on the kitchen and make sure the staff is ready to serve when our guest arrive. Excuse me.” She curtsied prettily and made her escape as Archie grimaced.

  The sound of carriage wheels echoed on the drive. Archie closed his eyes and prayed that when the time came he would do the right thing to protect everyone.

  “Oh my.”

  Lucia turned at
Stella’s soft gasp. “Do you like it?”

  “You are as lovely as the Foam Maiden of Roma lore.”

  Lucia looked into the mirror at the clouds of emerald satin that lay against her body. The dress was rather simply constructed, being plain across the bosom with a square neckline in black velvet. Over it, she wore a green velvet basque jacket that tied beneath her breasts with thick golden cord. The waist gave way to miles of ruffles and a flounce of black and gold over her hip. “Thank you.”

  “Your man will be entranced by you.” Stella smiled at Lucia in the mirror as she straightened the small bustle.

  “I’ve no worry of Archie’s reaction. He would stare at me the same in britches and burlap.”

  “The sign of a worthy man.” Stella moved to stand in front of Lucia and took her hand. She frowned down at Lucia’s palm, her fingers tracing lightly over the lines on her skin. “You have experienced much pain!”

  “Are you a palm reader?”

  “Of a sort. I can see the contours of the past. Sometimes hints of the future. Your past...” The woman raised her eyes to Lucia’s and shook her head. “So much pain.”

  “What does not kill us makes us stronger.”

  “Platitudes. Pain marks us. Changes us. Carves us out of bedrock like a river carves a canyon.”

  “I would agree.”

  Stella leaned closer to Lucia’s palm.

  “Do you see something?”

  “Something is wrong with you.”

  Lucia pulled her hand free and stepped back. “I beg your pardon?”

  Stella made the sign of the evil eye toward her and then crossed her arms, her face pale. “You have been tainted.”

  “I’m not sure I know what you mean.”

  “You are not in control of yourself.”

  Lucia’s smile did not falter. “I am completely myself.”

  “I should go.”

  “I don’t think so.” Lucia’s hand clamped down over the other woman’s arm with a vice-like grip. “I would hate it if you ruined the ball.”

  “Who are you?” Stella gasped and pulled away from the cloud of black that poured over Lucia’s eyes. “What has happened to you?”

  “Oh dear.” Lucia sighed. “If only you’d kept your hands to yourself.”

  “Let her go!” Stella demanded, scratching the superstitious Roma sign in the air again.

  “In due time. When she has done as she must.” The voice was not Lucia’s. It hid behind Lucia’s and Stella felt a heavy weight in her stomach when she heard it.

  “What are you planning? Why are you doing this?”

  “In due time, my dear Romani witch. In due time.” Lucia pulled Stella toward the tall armoire. “For now, you’ll stay here and stay quiet.”

  Stella felt the magic as it ran through her; shocking. A dunk into frigid waters. Her lids grew heavy, her body unresponsive to her deepest desire to move. To fight.

  Lucia pushed her into the armoire and made sure she was tucked in. “I won’t kill you yet. I may have need of you later.” Stella could not cry out as the door clicked shut. She was locked in the darkness. What monster had overpowered the woman’s mind, and what terrible fate was in store for the guests in the ballroom? How could they fight back against a foe they trusted completely?

  “Lord and Lady Markham.”

  Another gentrified couple announced at the door made their way to the receiving line. How had he ended up shaking hands with every person to enter the room, he wondered again. Oh yes, it was the duty of the Grand Adept at parties like these, to represent the upper class of the magical world. He wanted to snort at the idea. Him? Upper class of any world? Unlikely.

  He kept his attention on each person in the room, letting his magic trickle throughout the room and touch each one. He did not feel the presence of dark aether, but he was not satisfied the room was safe.

  “Lady Lucia Conti and Captain Corrigan Levisque,” the Romani attendant announced.

  The room went silent and Archie knew why. Lucia was radiantly beautiful in her gown of shimmering green silk, and the captain was equally as suave in his formal black tuxedo. They smiled to the crowd who had already begun whispering about them, and hurried toward Archie.

  “There are far too many people here,” the captain said worriedly, his hand in in his pocket. He watched the crowd warily.

  Archie took Lucia’s hand and pressed a kiss to her white satin glove. “You are magnificent.”

  “Thank you, Sir Merriweather. You’re too kind.” She blushed, but she was pleased with his admiration.

  “I’ve noted no dark aether in the room thus far,” Archie brought them up to speed. “But, I am not satisfied we are safe just yet.”

  “May I have this dance?” Lucia asked. “We’ll pass by each of the couples on the dance floor and we can get close enough to sense any malfeasance.”

  “I’ll wander about and mingle to see what I can learn of the guests who are here.” Corrigan nodded and headed for the long table against the wall where the food lay out for hurried consumption.

  Archie took Lucia’s gloved hand and led her onto the dance floor as the waltz began. The Romani band played well, and soon they were merrily twirling about the room.

  “You look fine in your formal wear.” Lucia leaned forward to whisper, “But I prefer you in nothing at all.”

  Archie grinned but something about her bold words had him bothered. It was unlike her to say such things in a public place, never mind any of her talk about snubbing society with their dalliances.

  They brushed past the other couples but he felt nothing worrisome from any of them.

  “The gent in the blue, he’s a wizard,” Archie whispered, “and the woman in yellow as well.”

  “More than a few, it’s true.” Lucia followed his lead effortlessly. “I cannot sense anyone using magic here, however.”

  “Nor can I.” In another turn about the room the song was over, and they clapped for the band before moving toward the wall to rest. “Despite all the evidence to the contrary, my gut still tells me that we’re missing something important. There is danger here.”

  Another song began and Grayson and Elizabeth took the floor, their own waltz graceful and charming. The whirl of the colorful dresses was dizzying in the bright lights of the ballroom. Archie grimaced at the sudden heavy feel of the air. The walls pressed close, and he felt the breath stuck in his chest.

  “Darling, are you okay?”

  He shook his head. Panic pushed on his skin, choking him. He blinked against it. “Does it feel warm in here to you?”

  “No. You’re pale.” She touched him with her hand, her magic crawling over him. It skittered, a spider that he forced himself not to shake off.

  “What is going on?” He saw that the dancers had slowed, all but Elizabeth and Grayson, who continued at full speed. The other guests seemed as sluggish as he felt, some even stumbling. When the woman in yellow went to her knees, her partner huddling next to her, Archie shoved off the wall to go to her. He looked down at Lucia’s arm holding him back. “I know what this is.”

  “Oh? What’s happening?”

  He blinked against the lethargy that threatened to take him to his own knees. “What’s the matter with you?”

  “With me?” She blinked her eyes innocently at him and shook her head.

  “What has happened to you?” he demanded, his heart beating hard in his chest. He could not stand, going to one knee before her, his hands clenched in her skirt.

  She bent over him as the others in the ballroom were falling to the floor in heaps of lace and satin. In the center of the room Elizabeth and Grayson danced on, not noticing that the music had stopped when the musicians fell.

  Archie bit back a wave of nausea when Lucia’s eyes clouded over with blackness. “No.”

  “Yes, Mr. Merriweather, I’m afraid it’s true. Your darling Ms. Conti has succumbed to the lure of my power.”

  “Leave her alone.”

  Lucia looked up
as the sound of bells rang out over the air. The traditional caroling of the bells that marked the Christmas season. “Finally.”

  Archie fell to his back, his lungs frozen in his chest. “What?”

  “Captain. Now’s the time,” Lucia called.

  Archie managed to turn his head, and saw Corrigan by the food table with his hand out. “No.”

  “Oh yes.” Elizabeth leaned over him, a smile on her face. She held Grayson’s hand, but his face and eyes were blank. Somehow, she was controlling them all.

  “What are you doing?” Archie demanded. He knew he had only moments of consciousness left.

  “What I have always done, Grand Adept. I am creating a path for myself in a world where women have few options. I am building a world for myself.”

  “Let. Them. Go.”

  She laughed. “Your dear friends belong to me. Lucia because she was tainted already, and the captain because he has no magic to fight against me. Grayson, because he loves me.”

  “You’re no wizard.”

  “I am simply exceedingly capable of hiding my magic. A talent that has served me well all these years.”

  He opened his mouth to ask another question, but she held up her hand and he found his vocal chords frozen in his throat.

  “No more questions, Adept. I have work to do.”

  Archie fought hard for consciousness, but he could not make his body follow his commands. He forced his eyes open, and the last sight he saw was Lucia’s face hovering over his.

  Lucia was trapped. Fear and rage warred in her stomach as she felt her body moving of its own accord. She bent and grabbed a portly older man under the arms, pulling him along the ballroom floor. She lined him up along the wall with the others, head to toe.

  Elizabeth fluttered about with a wide smile, stopping here and there to fuss over the positioning of her captives.

  “Grayson, darling, move Lord Bentley a bit to the left, would you?”

  Grayson’s movements were stilted, his eyes glazed. He did as she asked as Lucia dropped the last young woman in a lemon yellow dress into the line. Elizabeth stepped back and tapped her chin with the tip of one turquoise-gloved finger.