“Can it be broken?”
“Eventually. If the desire to break the bond because of irreconcilable differences is mutual and I don’t mean in the heat of the moment anger. But not only is the vow binding, it’s also an exchange of magical power. Each spouse gains access to some of the power of the other spouse, and it’s the reason no matter how close you are to a member of a magic family, you’re not allied with or don’t have a connection to them unless you’re married. There’s no exception to that anywhere. When magic families are connected or allied with each other, a marriage happened at some point in their histories.”
“Get to the point, Bastet,” MaLeila grumbled in impatience and frustration. “What does any of this have to do with me moving in with Marcel?”
“Because living together is a type of commitment, and it gives him—well not just him but both of you potential access to all the perks of a magical marriage without making the magical binding because when you’re that involved with someone, you could unwitting make a bond that might not be as powerful as a marriage one, but still gives someone the ability to leech off your power,” Bastet explained as though the connection should have been obvious to MaLeila. “That’s why the powerful families are so finicky about it. There have been wars, families fallen all because some idiot unwittingly made that kind of bond with someone.”
“Still not getting the big deal. I’m not part of a magic family. I’m one lone sorceress who not even the most powerful families have been able to destroy yet,” MaLeila pointed out. It wasn’t something they talked about, but they always suspected that not every sole magic user that came seeking a way to get their hands on Claude’s legacy came of their own accord. Every now and then there were clues. A sorcerer or sorceress who used to have a tie with a powerful family in Russia or one who was loosely linked to one in Spain. It wasn’t until recently, when Irvin seemed to randomly make an impromptu trip from London that coincided with MaLeila’s conflict with a rogue British wizard that MaLeila learned that the ties weren’t a coincidence. Irvin admitted that his family, likely one of the elders, sent the rogue wizard to test kill her.
“Exactly. So they do the next best thing. To them you may be the nigger witch, but you’re still powerful. They can’t beat you so they send over male suitors, like the Long family did when they sent Irvin over here,” Bastet said, impatience beginning to seep into the woman’s tone.
“Irvin? You think they sent him over here to woo me?” MaLeila huffed.
“Ask him. He’ll tell you. Lucky for you, he liked you enough as a friend not to go through with that plan and when you did try to date, it was because he actually liked you. Not because it was a plan. The Longs were smart enough in the beginning, but now everyone else is about to catch up to it. They’re going to seemingly turn the tides on you. They’re going to want to befriend you, pretend to be interested, pretend to think that they think the rules and laws of the magical world are just as outdated, sexist, and racist as you do and use your Americanized, non-magic upbringing against you and take advantage of your ignorance and get you into a marriage where you have no clue what you’re getting into or get you to unwittingly make a few weak magical bonds every time you think you’ve fallen in love that allow families to leech off your magic and that’s without talking about the risk of you having children,” Bastet finished.
MaLeila crossed her arms and stared at Bastet for a few beats before asking slowly, “So you think Marcel is the start of that?”
“No,” Bastet said honestly with a shrug. “I actually think he’s sincere. I was a spy and representative of the council once and I know how to spot someone who’s not genuine. He was too forward and reckless. If he had some other ulterior motive, he would have been more careful, tried to subtly isolate you from us while getting next to us at the same time so we didn’t notice.”
“Then what are you telling me all this for? If you think Marcel is genuine, why do you think I need to know this?”
“Because you need to be careful. Because he may be genuine, but if you two fall out of love tomorrow, the rest might not be, especially knowing that you’d let someone that close to you so quickly.”
MaLeila rolled her eyes. “It’s been four months. That’s not quick.”
“God you’re such an atypical teenager but you still think like a typical one,” Bastet finally snapped. “He may be nice, but did you look up his family? Does he have any ties to anyone outside the Magic Council or is he a lone sorcerer like you looking for a way to move up in the world? And if he does want to move up in the magical world, why would he purposefully ask you to move in with him, more than likely knowing everything I just told you? What do you really know about him?”
Bastet’s blunt appraisals had never bothered MaLeila. When she was twelve, she found it hilarious and by the time she got to an age where it might have offended her, MaLeila shrugged it off because that was just Bastet and no matter how blunt she was, she was always been kind. And though Bastet seemed a little irritated now, it wasn’t the first time MaLeila had been on the receiving end of the woman’s ire. But now, the woman’s appraisal rubbed her wrong, not because it didn’t have some truth in it. Not even because it was any more blunt or less kind than Bastet usually was. It was simply that in light of their discussion a few days ago, it all seemed so hypocritical. And it was in that moment that MaLeila realized how pissed off and upset she was not just at Devdan, but at Bastet too.
Finally, MaLeila replied in a deadpan tone, “About as much as I’ve learned about you and Devdan in six years, all things considered.”
“Alright,” Bastet said hitting the table with her hands. “I get you being angry at Devdan. He probably should have just kept his damn mouth shut, but me? I didn’t do anything to you that I know of. And I can’t read minds. So you’re going to have to tell me why you’re so damn pissy at me.”
MaLeila huffed. “I’m not sure about that.”
“About what?”
“Being angry at Devdan. At the very least I know he’s hiding things. I know he’s secretive. I know he doesn’t tell me things. I know sometimes he can’t stand me. He’s never bullshitted around about that. But if he hadn’t finally said something, you would have went on acting like our relationship is open and honest and based on two people who can mutually trust each other,” MaLeila spat.
Bastet scoffed. “Devdan may be my brother, but we both know he can be an ass. And during one of the times he was acting like an ass, you let him put stupid ideas in your head. Do you think I would have taken care of you and mentored you all these years if you couldn’t trust me and I couldn’t trust you?” Bastet asked.
“That’s what I used to think.”
“His words and revealing what Claude did doesn’t change that.”
“It changes everything!” MaLeila yelled. “Because no matter what you say or even what Devdan says, none of us know what kind of binding Claude put on us. How do I know you don’t care simply because of the binding? How do I know that the reason you haven’t hurt me is because of the binding?”
“Devdan tried to kill you when you first met. I think that more than explains that the binding doesn’t have that much control over us.”
“He was sealed away for almost two hundred years and we don’t know how that worked. How do we know that it didn’t interfere with the binding and it only took a while for it to kick in and subdue him? Maybe the reason Devdan’s such an ass sometimes is that he can fight the binding in a way you can’t because nothing interfered with your binding,” MaLeila argued and as she did so, she began to realize more and more just how much of her life had been out of her own hands. How all the decisions she thought she made and all the things she thought happened by chance were actually orchestrated by someone else.
Before Bastet could argue back, MaLeila continued, “Everything we are, our relationship, our so-called family bond, whatever the fuck you want to call it was orchestrated by Claude. We were forced together and you all knew it a
nd let me think it was natural. Can you look me in the eye and really tell me, that without Claude’s meddling, you’d still be here? That’s you’d still care?”
Bastet opened her mouth to answer, closed it, and then repeated both actions twice more before saying, “I don’t know, MaLeila. There’s no way to find out, so why dwell on it?”
Again, the idea of breaking the bind crossed MaLeila’s mind and just like the other times, a voice whispered that things hadn’t been so bad before she knew about the binding and they could continue on that way. She could pretend to be blissfully ignorant.
Until she decided what she would do, MaLeila decided not to mention that to Bastet. Instead she shook her head and laughed humorlessly.
“And you know what’s really fucked up about it all?” MaLeila asked, looking back up at Bastet. “You knew from the beginning and you decided not to tell me. Probably never would have. Yet you’re sitting here telling me I can trust you.”
“For good reason. Look at how you reacted,” Bastet pointed out.
MaLeila shrugged, remembering the reason she had come to talk to Bastet in the first place before she realized she was angry at the woman.
“At least with Marcel, I know what I could be getting into. At least with him, it’s my own choice and not someone planning it all out for me and giving me the illusion that it was a choice all along,” MaLeila muttered staring out the window behind the table. “For what it’s worth though, I’m not that naïve. I did check the registry. And I did look into Marcel’s family. I’m being careful.”
Bastet just stared at her for a while, in a piercing way that reminded MaLeila of the way Devdan looked at her when he wasn’t sure what to make of something she said. But Devdan had a way of making MaLeila feel like he was seeing right through her. Bastet didn’t.
Finally the woman said, “Seems like you’ve already made up your mind about it then.”
“Yeah,” MaLeila said, the admission surprising herself even. “I have.”
12
Marcel wasn’t home when MaLeila returned to his apartment. Assuming he probably went to do something that had to do with the council, MaLeila walked around his apartment, looking carefully at each room as though she were shopping for apartments and this was one she was interested in. She’d seen the apartment dozens of times, but now she looked at it in a different light, wondering if this was somewhere she could see herself living. Of course, it mattered more if she could see herself living anywhere with Marcel but this apartment mattered too especially after living in one place her entire life. Her home was dark, filled with artificial yellow lights that reflected off the beige walls, with the same heavy curtains on the window that her grandmother had hung up before she died, and steel burglar bars on windows that used to have to be unlocked with a key but that MaLeila’s mother had forced her grandmother to get changed some time ago after her mother argued that if there was ever a fire and the doors were blocked, they’d be trapped in the house. It was also filled with pictures—of MaLeila and Merrick over the years, some with Bastet, and even one that MaLeila’s mother managed to get Devdan to take—and things that MaLeila’s mother hadn’t been able to part with after her grandmother died. Once MaLeila’s mother died, she and Bastet had taken all the plates and antique ornaments off the wall, boxed some of it, sold some of it to collectors and fetched a pretty penny for the case of rifles that used to belong to her long dead grandfather, but there was still a lot of things on side tables and boxed in closets or the shed in the backyard.
Marcel’s apartment wasn’t like that. The walls were white, the furniture was glass and silver metal and white accented with blues and purples, and it sat on the south side of the apartment complex so that light always filtered in through the many windows and Marcel only ever had to turn on the lights when it started to get dark in the evening. While he had a lot of things, none of it overcrowded the man’s home and there were no boxes stuffed in closets full of things that they either couldn’t sell or wouldn’t throw away. And while it lacked the heavy, but warm and cozy atmosphere of her home, there was a light calm serenity about it. It also looked decidedly unlived in, like it was one of those mock apartments for interested renters to come inspect. The only real personal touches were the pictures of him and his sister on the mantel, but there was no laptop with papers left on the coffee table or the dining table or a coffee pot that was half full with left over coffee that Devdan and Bastet hadn’t finished.
“I could change that though,” MaLeila muttered to herself as she proceeded to busy herself with going shopping and making dinner, something she didn’t do often since that had been her mother’s chore and eventually Bastet once Devdan took over as her primary guardian from the magicians that used to frequently attack her.
She sensed Marcel coming long before he was back in the apartment that evening, so she wasn’t shocked or even a little alarmed when she felt his arms snake around her as she stirred gravy for the mashed potatoes and to smother her fried chicken with.
“This is a pleasant surprise.”
“What?” MaLeila asked. “Did you think you asking to live with you would scare me off because commitment scares the shit out of me or something?”
“No. I just thought you’d still be at home. I was going to call to make sure it was safe to come over.”
MaLeila rolled her eyes. “You act like it’s a war zone over there.”
“It felt like it was about to be when I left a few days ago and judging by your state when you came over here, it was,” Marcel pointed out. He changed the subject and asked, “What is this?”
MaLeila grinned and said, “It’s time you got introduced to traditional southern cuisine.”
“You’re trying to make me fat, aren’t you?”
MaLeila snorted. “Hardly. Don’t get used to this at all. If I move in, I have no intention of waiting at your hand and foot cleaning up and making sure you have a huge meal every night.”
Marcel laughed. “I didn’t think you would be. Besides, if I wanted one of those kinds of girls I could have paired off with one of those nice girls that my mother wanted me to marry back home before she died. You have to admit, it is kind of sexy though.”
MaLeila frowned and swatted Marcel’s hand away from where had been inching under the hem of her shirt.
“Not the only time it’s sexy though. Wish there was a way you could see yourself using powerful magic like when that idiot stole your staff.”
MaLeila scoffed. “Now you’re flattering me.”
“Not at all. Watching a petite five foot two young woman that’s technically not even out her teenage years use magic that some sorcerers three times her age can’t use is pretty fucking impressive. Makes me want to—“
MaLeila swatted his hand again and shrugged his arms from around her.
“Let me finish cooking dinner. I’ve been too anxious to eat so I’m starving,” MaLeila muttered.
“Me too,” Marcel said whispered in a low baritone, lips next to her ear, even though he had let her free from his embrace. “Just not for that kind of food.”
MaLeila suddenly wasn’t hungry for that kind of food either as her heart began to race and heat began to spread through her body, the familiar pulsing between her legs returning. Still, she resisted, turning the burner for the gravy off before moving away from Marcel to grab a cabbage out the refrigerator. Marcel groaned, pouting in a manner that made him look much younger than his twenty-nine years and nearly made MaLeila laugh out loud. He disappeared into his room and only came back out once MaLeila was done with dinner. Then he insisted on cleaning the kitchen by himself since she cooked dinner.
As he was cleaning, he said, “My sister is coming to visit sometime this week.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. She didn’t give a specific date, but she said whenever she’s done with her business at home. She’s been bugging me about coming home, especially since I really don’t need to be here anymore since it seems like Tsub
ame has no interest in you specifically.”
“I thought you and your sister didn’t get along.”
“We don’t. Bugging me as in pestering me about why I’m still in the states when there should be nothing keeping me here. So she forced me to tell her about you,” Marcel said in a resigned tone.
“I didn’t know our relationship was secret,” MaLeila said as Bastet’s and Devdan’s words played in her head about being the secret mistress, never the woman that would be showed off on her lover’s arm because she wasn’t deemed good enough to show off.
“It’s not. I try not to broadcast it to the council but they know we’re involved and if anyone asks, I tell them, but my sister… My sister is different,” Marcel said.
His voice was steady, but MaLeila sensed his exasperation and anxiousness. He continued without her prompting.
“She’s close to my ex. You know the one I said is to me like you and Devdan are to each other? My sister secretly hopes we’ll get our shit together and take the blinders off our eyes and settle down,” Marcel said with a roll of his eyes. “That’s never going to happen. She’s into what she’s into and I’m into what I’m into. Doesn’t keep Nika from hoping though. So anytime I get a girlfriend, she’s curious, but she’s only flying out to meet you because you’re the first in a long time I’ve been serious about.”
“Did you tell her about the living together part?”
Marcel groaned and rolled his eyes again. “Cross that bridge another time. Besides, you haven’t even said yes yet. Unless this is your way of answering me?”
The Immortal Queen Tsubame: Awakening Page 12