“To you?” After hearing your story. “Nothing. I think we understand each other.”
“Thank you.”
Lewis nodded and walked out.
In the outer office, the seven senior mages, healers all, watched him warily. He kept walking. Kora was waiting for him in his office. A conversation with the commander of the guardians would make his encounter with William look positively enjoyable.
In the foyer of the Collegium’s headquarters—which had obviously been designed by a house witch, the proportions were just so right—Gina did battle with the receptionist. “So I’m not on Lewis’s list of approved guests, those with the right to immediately see him. Tell me, does Lewis even have such a list?”
The receptionist was a professional. “Tomas”, his name tag said. He didn’t show any reaction to her point.
But Gina had worked as a receptionist in a couple of her family’s hotels. She knew what that blank face meant. It meant she was right.
Accurately guessing Lewis’s behavior, however, wouldn’t get her past Tomas to the elevators and up to Lewis’s office. That would require guile.
She smiled. “Lewis isn’t expecting me, but I didn’t want to wait at his apartment.”
Tomas’s eyes went wide.
Gina suppressed the urge to giggle. The reason she wasn’t waiting at Lewis’s apartment was because he hadn’t given her a key to it, but all Tomas needed to know was that she was Lewis’s girlfriend. She flicked her head in a way that drew attention to her red hair, worn loose and flaunting that she was comfortable strolling unannounced into Lewis’s life. Her jeans and tight blue cotton sweater said she was equally comfortable with her curvy body.
She admired her fingernails, painted with tiny multicolored hearts on a blue background, as she laid a confiding hand on the reception desk. “I realize you can’t let me up. But I don’t want to phone Lewis to tell him I’m here. He’s busy.”
A flicker of Tomas’s black lashes told her that Lewis was busier than she’d guessed. Something big was happening.
She kept her voice casually seductive, as if she hadn’t noticed Tomas’s giveaway. “Why don’t you phone Chad or whichever of the bodyguards is on duty—Haskell or Shawn—and have them take responsibility for allowing me up?”
“Very well.”
Gina leaned against the reception desk, her back to Tomas’s low murmured phone conversation, and surveyed the foyer.
Of the nine people in it, all nine were staring at her.
She smirked. Her and Lewis’s grand exit yesterday had certainly spread the news. Lewis had a girlfriend! It was what she’d counted on: not her smiles or guile to convince the receptionist to allow her access to the president’s outer office, but the gossip as to her identity.
“You may go up, Ms. Sidhe.”
She borrowed from one of her favorite great-aunts, a famous Hollywood actress. “Much appreciated, honey.”
And she stayed in character—a woman casual and happy, surprising her lover—keeping her stance relaxed and her expression just tipping into a smile as she rode up in the elevator.
She walked into Lewis’s outer office and into the heat of another woman’s angry glare.
The woman was forty something, wearing a gray trouser suit whose poor cut didn’t disguise a fighter’s readiness to attack or defend. Brown hair, brown eyes, lipstick worn off and a square chin.
Gina kept her stride confident, perhaps adding a little extra sway to her hips, just to annoy, and looked beyond the woman to the PA seated behind his desk. “Shawn?”
The man’s swift glance at the woman was difficult to decipher. Doubt? Challenge? Seeking permission?
Who was the woman?
“Gina Sidhe.” Shawn found his voice. “President Bennett isn’t in.”
“When do you expect him back?” Gina crossed to the PA’s desk. Her path took her within double arms’ length of the woman.
“How is that any of your business?” the woman challenged.
Gina spun slowly to face her. Sidhe family policy was not to antagonize people. It was a necessary discipline in hospitality work. It also meant they avoided challenges that might expose the strength of their house witchery magic. It was always better to be underestimated.
But Gina decided to make an exception for this woman.
Lewis had given the impression of total isolation within the Collegium, so it wasn’t as if Gina would be alienating one of his friends.
She perched her butt on the edge of Shawn’s desk.
A faint cough from him suggested amusement.
Not so the woman. Her brown eyes went even colder, if that was possible. “I asked you a question,” she snapped.
“This is Gina, Kora.” Lewis walked in and strode straight to Gina. He kissed her briefly, but on the mouth. “I promised Kora ten minutes of my time, but then, I’m free.”
Gina shivered. She’d thought the woman’s brown eyes were cold, but Lewis’s were glacial.
Lines of tension bracketed his mouth and he held himself with a powerful restraint that somehow suggested violence.
“If you want coffee or anything, Shawn will get it for you.” Lewis opened the door to his inner office. “Kora.” Just the woman’s name, but it was an order.
Gina stared as the door closed behind them.
“Coffee?” Shawn asked.
“No, thanks,” she said absently.
“You wanna get off my desk?”
She turned her head to study him.
He was tense, too.
“Kora?” she mused. “So that’s who replaced Lewis as commander of the guardians.” Gina knew the name. She hadn’t bothered to match it to a face. “A tough cookie.”
Shawn didn’t comment.
Gina nodded as if he had. She sauntered over to the visitors’ seats and sank onto one. She felt a surprising sympathy for the antagonistic woman. It didn’t matter how good a mage Kora was or how determined, she’d never measure up to Lewis. He was a living legend, a hero. That would be a difficult situation to accept. Perhaps that explained Kora’s hostile reaction to Gina. But what explained Lewis’s rage? She recalled the three spells Morag had removed from him. That would do it.
Lewis stopped a few steps inside his office. He didn’t sit or invite Kora to do so.
“I’m sorry,” she bit out. “But I was doing my job.”
“Having me tracked, by guardians or by magic. I accepted the bodyguard.”
“Barely,” she interrupted. “For the look of things, to reassure outsiders that you were protected, but you don’t respect their protection of you. That woman outside, you went off with her yesterday, out to Cape Cod.”
Evidently, Paul O’Halloran, the porter, had reported Lewis’s destination. Lewis had expected as much, but it didn’t improve his mood. He reached for the cover story, that Gina was his girlfriend. “I am entitled to a private life. Do not bespell me again.”
“Or what?” It was a flagrant challenge to his presidential authority, and a taunt to his lack of magic.
He stared at Kora, consciously summoning the clarity of sight Morag said led to the Deeper Path. Silver patterns ran through Kora and coiled in compact density where she likely held her magic and spells in readiness.
To act without full knowledge of what the silver light represented would be reckless. Just to touch the mesh of it in William’s office had brought the ocean in acoustically. What if it had instead brought the actual ocean and flooded the office? Yet he was angry enough to be reckless.
He looked away from the silver figurine that was Kora to the silver light coating his fingertips. Consequences that recoiled on himself were an acceptable risk. He flexed his fingers and the silver sparked.
He clenched his fists, closing down the clarity of sight and its temptation as well. “If you bespell me again, the consequences are the same as for William. You will be dismissed from the Collegium.”
“On your say so?”
“On the grounds of treason an
d inability.”
“Inability?” she gasped. “It’s not me who burned out my magic.”
“But it is you, in constant contact with my bodyguards, who failed to detect the other two spells cast on me.”
Her wide mouth compressed.
Lewis held her furious, frustrated gaze. “That is failure plain enough for all to comprehend.”
“Who revealed them to you?” she demanded.
“Someone more skilled than you.”
Kora swore and stalked out of the office.
A minute later, Gina walked in. “Is now a bad time for me to suggest an early dinner. I thought we could eat-in at your apartment. I’ll cook.”
He dragged his thoughts out of the mire of anger. If Gina was here and suggesting a private chat, she had information on the Group of 5. But he needed more than that. He had to shed the tensions of the day, and he needed to consult Morag concerning the intrusion of the ocean into William’s office.
“It’s been a hellish day,” he said. He had to remember their cover story. “I’d like to get right away. Your house?”
“Even better.” She rubbed her knuckles along his jawline. “You can forget about the Collegium.”
“Like that’s possible.”
A smile glimmered in her green eyes. She stretched on tiptoe. “Don’t worry. I’ll help you forget.”
Her lips were warm and soft on his.
In the outer office he’d kissed her in greeting, a swift, meaningless acknowledgement of her as his pretend girlfriend. Perhaps she’d meant this caress as something similar since Shawn lurked beyond the open door. If she did, it went wrong.
The kiss escaped them both. His fury with the senior mages transmuted into a different kind of passion. Her mouth was sweet and hot, and at the flick of his tongue, she sucked him in. His hands went to her butt, lifting her into his body. She wrapped her arms around him.
Very reluctantly, he pulled out of the kiss. “Your lipstick is strawberry-flavored.”
“Lip balm, and I’ll have to renew it.” Her tongue tip licked along her bottom lip.
A groan vibrated in his throat.
She smiled, wicked and inviting, looking up at him through her lashes. “Hurry up, Mr. President, or your dinner will get cold.”
The tease sounded sexual. But the laughter in her eyes said she was playing, enjoying their game of fooling Shawn.
For an instant, Lewis wanted it to be real. He wanted Gina to be here for him at the end of a long and ugly day.
The momentary lift of his spirits faded. This was only pretend. Their attraction was real, but they’d agreed not to act on it. It was the only possible decision since Gina would chafe at the constraints of his life. The Collegium was an all-consuming duty.
He locked away desire, put an arm around her, the picture of a devoted boyfriend, and urged her out the door.
Chapter 7
Gina only occasionally travelled to New York via portal since it meant dealing with Paul O’Halloran. He was a sleaze. What she hadn’t realized was that he was a stupid sleaze. Only an idiot would question Lewis in her pretend boyfriend’s current mood.
Their kiss had warmed Lewis up briefly, but he’d soon fallen back into a seething frustration that showed in the rigid movements of his body and the chill of his gaze. They’d collected his overnight bag from his apartment in silence and he hadn’t bothered to change out of his business suit before setting out for Paul’s portal.
In her jeans and comfortable sandals, Gina had kept up with Lewis’s brisk stride. She wasn’t sure he’d have noticed if she’d fallen behind. Somehow, this time, they weren’t holding hands.
Yet in the face of Lewis’s massive and obvious anger, Paul stood at the edge of his portal, beer in hand, and pursued his own complaint. “You used my portal this morning without contacting me.”
Lewis said nothing.
“Not cool, man.”
“I am a registered user of your portal.” Lewis’s every word chilled the air. “Please, contact the Cape Cod porter.”
“I like to know who is coming through my portal,” Paul complained.
“And obviously you do.” Lewis finally looked at the man. “I’d be interested to know how you use that information.”
Paul froze, beer halfway to his mouth. “Ugh.”
“Information is currency,” Lewis continued. “But trading in some commodities can be dangerous.”
Paul had all the power of the portal at his command. Lewis had burned out his magic. However, it was obvious who was the more dangerous.
“Call Emmaline,” Lewis said.
Paul called into the in-between, using the magic porters exercised.
It was Riaz who answered. And knowing Riaz, Gina mused, it was probably he who’d suggested handing Lewis through the New York portal without waking its porter for the transport. Trouble-maker.
Riaz hauled first her, then Lewis, through the in-between and into Emmaline’s clean basement.
“Thank you,” Lewis said briefly, halting Riaz’s greeting.
Her almost-cousin shot her a comically questioning look.
Gina shrugged. Whatever had stirred up Lewis, it wasn’t minor—and he seemed determined not to share anything until they reached her house. Or rather, her privacy wards. Ominous.
The car radio filled the silence till they pulled into her driveway.
Lewis exhaled in a huge sigh of released tension.
“You okay?” Gina kept her eyes forward, her attention nominally on the slowly opening garage door.
“I’m fine. My temper’s not. I need to run or swim or something. Then I need to see your dragon. Will Morag allow me to visit on short notice?”
“Why?” Gina turned off the car engine.
The garage was quiet and shadowy thanks to the pine tree shading it from the evening sun.
“I’m seeing the silver light,” Lewis said. “And this afternoon, I touched it.”
She turned in the driver’s seat. The small size of her car brought them close. “What do you mean you touched it?”
“In the way we gather in magic or cast it, I touched a mental finger to a mesh of pale silver light. As a result, the sounds of the ocean entered a Collegium senior mage’s office.”
“That must have startled him or her.”
Lewis didn’t crack a grin. He did crack open the passenger door and maneuver his long legs out. “Yes. William now doubts whether I ever lost my magic—and he’s the head of the Healers’ department and the mage who confirmed that I’d burned out.”
Lewis got out of the car and closed the door firmly. He waited till she’d gotten out, too. “I realize you came to see me for a reason, but I need to run off the day first.”
“My news can wait. I found the identity of the fourth group member.”
His attention sharpened. “Who?”
A touch of her magic and the kitchen door opened. She walked through it. “Lindsay Perez. Go. Run, swim, whatever. I’ll tell you about her after dinner and then we’ll go see Morag.”
He paused in the doorway, bag in hand. “Is it okay to visit her without an invitation?”
“We might wait a while if she’s busy, but she seems keen on teaching you the Deeper Path so I doubt we’ll wait for long.” She closed her mouth before further questions as to how he’d used his clarity of sight to summon the sounds of the ocean could escape. She went to the fridge and began pulling out ingredients, transferring them to the counter near the sink. When she heard his footsteps ascending the stairs, she ceased being busy and leaned into the counter, staring out the window.
Gina had watched her aunt Deborah move casually and inexplicably through the world. Aunt Deborah wasn’t much of a communicator, so she’d never really explained how clarity of sight changed things, but Gina knew that the world and its limits were different for her aunt. “Seven dimensions.”
Lewis, perhaps unconsciously, had been thinking of the ocean, and as a result, the fabric of three dimensional reali
ty had rippled to allow him to reach the sea. His mind was opening to new ways of being in the world, and Morag would structure and accelerate that process.
Only Gina’s intimate connection to her house alerted her to Lewis’s descent of the stairs. He was soundless. She reached for a pot and put it on the stove.
“Do we have time for me to take an hour’s work-out or should I condense it?”
“An hour’s fine.” Her voice strangled as she saw him stripped down to short black swimming trunks, with a towel over his shoulder.
The man was all muscle, from broad shoulders and chest, to flat stomach and powerful thighs.
Her own stomach tightened.
Barefoot, he crossed the kitchen and went out the door.
Gina stared at the pot in front of her. Then she put it and all the ingredients for her salmon pasta away. She’d made a large pan of lasagna a week ago and divided it into individual servings before freezing it. Two of those for Lewis and one for her would do for dinner. She popped them in the oven to heat through. Meantime, she’d indulge in an activity that mightn’t ever be available to her again. She poured herself a glass of rosé and carried it out to the front porch where she could watch Lewis train.
Lewis warmed up on the rough cut grass that served as a lawn at the front of Gina’s home. Stretches gave way to a high-intensity mini-circuit before he jogged down to the beach to sprint along the hard-packed sand at the water’s edge. The tight control he’d kept all day was released in the hot burn of the exercise. He plunged into the ocean and swam out. He was a powerful swimmer even if he usually used the indoor pool at his apartment building. Cape Cod was colder but better. He swam out, then parallel to the beach before returning and walking, dripping, up to collect his towel from the grass.
He wiped at his face and chest, his arms, and was aware that Gina watched him from the porch. He was accustomed to people admiring his body, and there were any number of women drawn both to his physical power and the power he wielded as president of the Collegium and before that as commander of the guardians, but with Gina, he liked the caress of her gaze. He liked it too much.
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