The Book of Mayhem

by Melissa McShane

  “You made the smart decision. And I could never hate you forever.”

  Malcolm smiled, the smallest quirk of his lips. “Just temporarily?”

  “Not even that. If you’re looking to me to punish you, look somewhere else.”

  He took my hand and ran his thumb over my knuckles, making me shiver. “You are still the most honorable woman I’ve ever known.”

  I closed my fingers over his. “And see what good that’s done me,” I said bitterly. “Malcolm, I sold hundreds of auguries to people who wanted you dead without refusing once. I am impartial and it’s got nothing to do with who I do or don’t love!”

  “Helena—”

  “Don’t. Just don’t say anything reasonable about the Accords, or tribunals, or what Lucia would say if she knew we were together, which she already believes we are, by the way.” I dashed away tears with my free hand. “I don’t give a damn about the Accords. I’m tired of having my life governed by rules that don’t give me even a little credit for—”

  “Shhh,” Malcolm said, laying a finger across my lips, then stroking my cheek and brushing away a few more tears. “Don’t cry.”

  “I can cry if I want to.” It sounded petulant, and I flushed with embarrassment.

  Malcolm laughed. “But I don’t think you want to,” he said, running his hand along my shoulder to rest on the side of my neck. His fingers brushed the hair at the nape of my neck, and I shivered.

  “Oh? What do you think I want?” He was very close now, his breath warm on my cheeks.

  “This,” he said, and kissed me.

  I put my arms around his neck and returned his kiss. His lips were warm and soft and his hands touched me so gently I felt like crying again. I ran my fingers through his hair and gasped as he nipped at my lower lip, making him smile. Touching him, feeling safe in the circle of his arms, I wanted it to go on forever.

  His kisses became more intense, moving from my lips to my throat, and his fingers slid from my face down my side to slip under my pajama top and caress my back. I tugged at his shirt until he pulled it off, revealing lean, powerful muscle and silky smooth skin. There was a flat knot of white, ridged scarring the size of a quarter over his heart. “My aegis,” he said when I touched it. “I know it’s ugly.”

  I ran my fingers across his chest and the hard ridges of his abs. “Ugly? Malcolm, on your worst day you make Apollo want to turn in his laurel wreath. It’s going to take more than a tiny bit of scar tissue to make you ugly.”

  He laughed. “You’re making me blush, love.”

  That one little word set my heart racing again and made a silly smile spread across my face. I trailed my fingers upward, caressing his shoulders and the line of his collarbone. Touching him was almost too wonderful to be real.

  He laid me back on the couch until he was propped on one elbow above me and began unbuttoning my top. “That night you fell asleep on me, I sat there stroking your hair until I drifted off, wishing I dared do more. I shouldn’t have stayed, but I wanted you so badly, I told myself it was all reasonable and safe.”

  “You didn’t give anything away. I was so sure you cared about me, and you were absolutely indifferent.”

  He laughed. “Not indifferent, just good at hiding how I felt. It took everything I had not to return your kiss.”

  “I was so embarrassed. I’d completely forgotten I wasn’t free, even without the Accords.”

  Malcolm stopped with my shirt half-unbuttoned and cradled my cheek in one hand, brushing his thumb over my cheekbone. “I almost convinced myself I didn’t care who you were dating. That kiss made me realize I loved you, and I’ve dreamed of having you in my arms ever since.”

  I put my arms around his neck and pulled him closer. “It was worth waiting for. Even with all the heartache.”

  “It was.” His lips brushed mine, then moved south as his fingers worked the row of buttons. “Nothing I dreamed came close to this.”

  I wormed my way out of my pajama top, then put my arms around him again, closing my eyes in pleasure at feeling his smooth skin against mine, almost as soft as the maroon velvet rubbing against my back. “I never dared dream of you,” I whispered. “But I’ve been yours since the first time we kissed, when we thought you were saying goodbye. I love you, Malcolm.”

  He kissed me softly, a kiss that gradually deepened into a passionate embrace that left me breathless and desperate for more. “I love you, Helena,” he whispered back. “Let me show you how much.”

  We cuddled together in my bed, Malcolm idly tracing lines on my skin, me running my fingers over the scar over his heart. The smell of him was everywhere, filling the air, and I closed my eyes and breathed him in.

  Malcolm ran his finger over the line of my eyebrow to my cheekbone and kissed my forehead. “I still have to go.”

  “Way to kill the mood, Malcolm.”

  “I’m sorry. I just thought you should know I can’t stay.”

  “But you could sleep here just one night—”

  “I’d have trouble leaving in the morning. And we still have to worry about the Accords.”

  My arms tightened around him. “You worry about staying alive. I’ll worry about the Accords.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean it’s past time I actually read them. I’m going to find a way for us to be together openly. For now—as far as I’m concerned, I’m yours, and you’re mine, and if that means we have to be together only in secret, and across long distances, then that’s what it means.”

  He sighed. “I should tell you no and push you away, because the Board of Neutralities won’t be gentle with you if they find out about us, but I don’t think I can bear being without you one minute longer. I suffered the most terrible jealousy whenever I saw you with your ex-boyfriend.”

  “You are good at hiding your feelings. I was sure you didn’t care that I was dating him.”

  “I indulged in some wild fantasies of making him disappear. I even had him investigated.”

  “Malcolm! You did not!”

  He nodded. “Unfortunately he’s a decent enough person who’s never even committed any minor crimes, so I had no excuse to dangle him off a building as I did Chet.”

  “He was very rude to me when we broke up. You could dangle him off a building for that.”

  “I’ll keep it in mind next time I’m in Portland.”

  That sobered me. “Where will you go?”

  “I haven’t decided. But I promise to call you when I’ve replaced my phone. I doubt anyone will think to ask you, personally, my location. I can’t guarantee you won’t have another rash of augury requests about it, though.”

  I snuggled into his arms and breathed out pure contentment. “I’ve never had a long-distance relationship before. I wonder if I’ll be good at it.”

  Malcolm kissed me again, long and tender. “You’ll have to be,” he said, “because I will think of you constantly, and someday I will show up on your doorstep and throw myself at your feet, and you will have to let me in.”

  “And I’ll kiss you until neither of us remembers our own names,” I murmured.

  “Mmm. Is this the point where I say ‘We’ll always have Paris’?”

  “We almost didn’t. I’m glad you came to say goodbye.”

  We lay like that for a while, kissing and touching until I knew if I didn’t get up, Malcolm would be spending the night, and much as I loved him, he was right: leaving now would be easier. So I sat up and brushed the hair away from his forehead. “I don’t want you to go.”

  “But it’s time,” Malcolm said, sitting up beside me.

  “Do you need anything? Food?”

  “No. This time, I’m prepared to go into hiding. The benefits of having a large fortune.” He kissed me again, drawing me close until I could feel his heart beating. “I’ll stay in touch. I promise.”

  “Call me soon.”

  “I will.” He kissed me once more. “I love you, Helena.”

  We dressed,
taking our time about it, kissing until it started to feel desperate. Then he held me, the two of us standing beside my door as if defying it to separate us. Malcolm whispered my name, kissed me one last time, and then he was gone. I locked the door and stood leaning against it for a minute. My heart ached, but it was a good, clean feeling, something I could live with.

  I walked back down the hall and found my phone where I’d left it on the kitchen table. I pulled out a chair and straddled it while I listened to the phone ring. Finally, someone picked up. “Hi, Judy?” I said. “Where can I get a copy of the Accords?”

  About the Author

  In addition to The Last Oracle series, Melissa McShane is the author of more than twenty fantasy novels, including the novels of Tremontane, the first of which is Servant of the Crown; The Extraordinaries series, beginning with Burning Bright; and Company of Strangers, first book in the series by the same name. She lives in the shelter of the mountains out West with her husband, four children and a niece, and four very needy cats. She wrote reviews and critical essays for many years before turning to fiction, which is much more fun than anyone ought to be allowed to have.

  You can visit her at www.melissamcshanewrites.com for more information on other books.

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