by Arthur, Keri
“From what I’ve heard, he has little enough of that left to worry about.”
“Then you are misinformed. He still has plenty of allies here in Canberra.”
Would those allies protect him no matter what? Would they shield him from the full force of the law if he did succeed in harming either Belle or me? Or would it all be brushed under the proverbial rug and quickly forgotten about? I’d pretty much bet on the latter, especially if the Black Lantern Society decided not to get involved.
But I didn’t press the point. He obviously wouldn’t listen, no matter what I said.
“Fine. I’ll see you tomorrow evening.”
With that, I hung up.
And wasn’t entirely sure what I felt. I’d been dreaming of an annulment and escaping Clayton for so long; now it was almost within my grasp, some small part of me refused to believe it was actually happening. Of course, a major part of that was the conviction that Clayton wasn’t about to let Belle or me escape without us paying the price.
But if we survived that—survived him—then we could finally live our lives as we wanted rather than constantly looking over our shoulders, always on the run, always fearful of being discovered.
And maybe that’s the reason for your nervousness, came Belle’s somewhat amused comment. Caution has become so ingrained that it’s hard to let go.
Possibly. Definitely.
It’ll be fine in the end. I really believe that.
She says with fingers crossed.
And toes, and all things in between. Her amusement faded. I’ll contact Monty and Ashworth and see if they’re free tomorrow. I don’t think it’ll hurt to have backup.
I very much doubt we’d escape without either of them. I glanced up as a coffee cup appeared in front of my nose and gave Aiden a quick smile of thanks. I’ll see you later tonight.
You’re not staying at Aiden’s?
Not tonight—he has some meeting up at the compound.
Then bring home something to eat. I don’t feel like cooking.
Will do.
Aiden’s shoulder brushed mine as he sat back down. “I know a couple of court officers at Wodonga—I’ll ask them to keep an eye on things over the next twenty-four hours.”
“My father won’t try anything—it’s one of the reasons I suggested we meet in a court.”
“It’s not your father I’m worried about.”
“I know.” I put my coffee on the table, grabbed his and put it beside mine, then sat astride him. “But I don’t want to talk or think about my father, my soon-to-be ex, or even tomorrow night right now.”
The lazy swirl of his desire sharpened abruptly, its heady scent filling my nostrils and making my pulse leap. He slid his hand around the back of my neck and pulled me closer.
“More than happy to help you lose an hour or two,” he murmured, his breath so warm against my lips.
“If it’s only an hour or two, Ranger, I will be severely disappointed.”
He chuckled softly, then claimed my lips and helped me forget.
* * *
Dusk had settled in by the time we reached the outskirts of Wodonga the next evening. Aiden followed the GPS directions through the myriad of streets and eventually halted in front of an uninspiring, two-story red-brick building.
“Lights are on,” Monty commented. “Someone’s obviously home.”
“I really wish I was,” Belle muttered.
“You’ve more integrity and mental strength in your little finger than either of those two bastards have in their entire beings,” Monty said. “You can do this. You can also hold my hand if you want.”
She snorted and didn’t reply.
“There’re several cars with government plates parked across the road,” Ashworth noted. “They’re obviously here.”
“Activate the pendant,” Monty said, “so we can check it’s working before we go in.”
I did so, and then muttered a soft “One, two, three, sound check.” He studied the small receiver’s screen for a second and then nodded. “Signal’s coming through loud and clear. We’re ready.”
I took a deep breath and released it slowly. “Then let’s get this show on the road.”
I resolutely climbed out of the truck and strode toward the court’s main entrance. The guard stationed outside must have known who we were, because he opened the door without comment.
A second guard waited inside. “This way please, Ms. Grace.”
I couldn’t help wondering if his use of Grace rather than Marlowe was my father’s way of smoothing things over… or whether he was simply trying to lull me into a false sense of security.
It was a thought that had my steps briefly faltering. Aiden’s fingers twined through mine, and a thick sense of security rushed through me. I wasn’t alone. I could do this.
We followed the guard up the stairs and then down a long corridor. Near the end was a meeting room; the muted pulse of power coming from within it told me my father, Clayton, and at least one other witch waited inside.
The guard opened the door and motioned us to enter. I took a deep breath, then disentangled my fingers from Aiden’s and led the way in.
Three men and two women were waiting for us, but it was Clayton who drew my gaze. He made no move and didn’t acknowledge me in any way, but his anger burned so fiercely it practically flayed my skin and had beads of sweat breaking out across my back.
Once again, I couldn’t help wondering why my father couldn’t see just how dangerous he was. It didn’t take psychic talents to feel his fury. It wasn’t just evident in his aura, but also in the glint of his eyes, in the set of his mouth. In the way he clenched and unclenched his fists and also in his scent, which was a weird mix of ash and fury. A volcano ready to explode, I thought bleakly.
Then his gaze moved past me, and the volcano erupted.
He was up and lunging toward us before my father or the other witch could react. Aiden grabbed me and spun me out of the way. The fist that would have smashed into my face hit his back instead. He growled low and dangerously and swung around, shielding me with his body. No further blows came our way, because we weren’t Clayton’s target.
Belle was.
But even as he lunged at her, Monty moved. He pulled her to one side, knocked Clayton’s fist away with one hand, and threw a punch with the other. The blow smashed into Clayton’s face and sent him sprawling backward. Monty took two quick steps and stood over him, his fist still clenched and fire in his eyes.
“You guaranteed Liz’s and Belle’s safety, Lawrence.” Though the words were aimed at my father, his gaze remained on Clayton and his voice was flat and angry. “Allowing this bastard off his leash is hardly keeping your part of the bargain.”
“He isn’t unleashed. At least not magically.” Though his expression and his voice remained coolly urbane, his shock reverberated. “I just didn’t expect such a violent—or physical—reaction.”
“I did fucking warn you, Father—”
“Language, Elizabeth.”
“Aside from the fact I’m an adult, not a teenager, you gave up any right to tell me what to do when you forced me to marry the prick on the floor.”
One of the women made a sharp sound of surprise. Obviously, my soon-to-be ex hadn’t been entirely honest about the reasons for the annulment, which left me wondering what he had said. I mean, how exactly did you explain an annulment after thirteen years of marriage?
Not that it really mattered one way or another, as long as it was all signed, sealed, and made official.
“He will cause no further problems, I assure you,” my father said. “Now, please stand back and give him room to rise.”
Monty hesitated and then took precisely two steps back and stood beside Ashworth, the two of them providing a physical barrier between Clayton and Belle. Although he’d mostly behaved during our first meeting, this was the first time he’d been in the same room as Belle. Who knew what else he’d do?
My father took a handkerchief out of the t
op pocket of his jacket then walked over to Clayton and offered it to him. “You will restrain any further urges to violence, will you not, my friend?”
Clayton wasn’t so far gone in anger that he didn’t recognize a threat, however politely it was said. He accepted the handkerchief with a nod and elegantly dabbed at his bloody and very mashed nose. If it wasn’t broken, I’d be very surprised. Monty had certainly put some force behind his blow.
My father helped him rise, then escorted him with one hand under his elbow—and not for support, I suspected—over to the other side of the conference table. Keeping something solid between him and Belle was a damn good idea, but it wouldn’t matter in the long run. Once my father had returned him to Canberra and removed his leash, all the fury and hatred so evident in his aura and his eyes were going to boil all over the two of us.
Surviving it seemed to be becoming an ever-distant hope.
I flexed my fingers and firmly pushed the thought—and the fear that came with it—away. Anticipating defeat was the surest way of ensuring it. He hadn’t beaten us the first time, and he wasn’t going to do it this time.
“I think it’s best for everyone’s peace of mind if we proceed without further delay.” The older of the two women accepted a satchel from the younger woman, then spread a number of documents out on the table. “Mr. Clayton Marlowe, you first, please.”
Clayton accepted the offered pen and signed on the lines she indicated. His signature was small and mean—much like the man himself.
It was my turn next. I signed each spot, my heart hammering. I was—so close—to freedom.
My father signed as one witness, and Ira the other.
The older women added a final signature and then the documents were all stamped. One set was handed to Clayton, another handed to me, while the other two were collected by the younger woman and placed back into the satchel. “These will be filed tomorrow, but the annulment is official as of this moment. Is there anything else?”
“There is one private matter that needs to be dealt with,” my father said. “If we could have use of this room for a few minutes longer, that would be appreciated.”
The older woman nodded. “I will wait for you in the foyer.”
My father waited until the two women had left and then said, “Remove the spell on Clayton, Belle.”
“Only if you leave the room,” I said.
His gaze cut to mine. The dark bruising that accompanied the broken nose I’d given him made the barely restrained anger stand out starkly. “That is hardly wise—”
“Your leash won’t break the minute you’re out the door, and he’s not stupid enough to try anything physical with Monty, Ashworth, and Aiden in the room.”
My father’s quick glance at his friend suggested he wasn’t entirely sure of that. Not now, at least.
“I can’t understand why—” He stopped. “You do not wish me to see your magic.”
What I didn’t want him to witness was the way Belle and I could combine our magic. Clayton had to be present, but he was too far gone down the revenge trail to even care.
“You’re already well aware of my strengths and weaknesses, Father. You spent sixteen years expressing your disappointment with them, remember?”
“It makes no matter where I’m standing. I will still feel the pulse of your magic.”
Yes, but he wouldn’t see the actual threads of it. Wouldn’t know just how deeply Belle’s and my magic had converged.
At least, I hoped he wouldn’t.
I smiled sweetly. “Maybe I just don’t want to be in the same room as you for longer than necessary.”
He raised an eyebrow, expression disbelieving, but he nevertheless gave a short, sharp nod and strode from the room.
Clayton didn’t say anything. He just watched us with eyes that burned with hate.
Dead. We were dead if he ever caught either of us unawares…
I met Belle’s gaze. Can you actually remember the spell you used that night?
It was done on the fly, but I think so. I’m still not sure it’s the wisest thing to do.
We have no choice, given it was part of the agreement. If we don’t go through with it, my father is just as likely to rip up the annulment papers and enforce the marriage. Or turn a blind eye to whatever Clayton does next.
If your instincts are right, the latter will happen anyway. She took a deep breath and then said, “If this is going to work, then Clayton—”
“That’s Mr. Marlowe to you, girl,” Clayton ground out. “You need some lessons in respect, and I’m more than happy—”
“Threatening the one person who can remove the erectile dysfunction spell isn’t the wisest of moves,” Monty said, voice deceptively mild given the anger he was radiating. “And if you harm one hair on her glorious head, I’ll—”
“What?” Clayton retorted. “We both know you’re in that backwater because you haven’t power enough for Canberra.”
“While that may be true enough,” Ashworth said before Monty could, “all either of us has to do is talk to the Black Lantern investigators. You’re already in enough trouble with them, Clayton. Don’t make it any worse for yourself.”
It was just as well expressions couldn’t kill, because otherwise both Monty and Ashworth would be dead right now.
“Just get on with it,” he growled. “I want this done and over with so I can move on to the next phase of my plans.”
“I hope that wasn’t a threat,” Aiden said. “Because if you meant anything else, I’ll arrest you now.”
“You hold no power here, Ranger.”
“I wouldn’t bet on that.”
“Enough, all of you.” Belle’s tone showed none of the uncertainty I could feel in her as she stepped up beside Monty. “Clayton, I can’t do anything with you glowering at me like that. Turn around.”
He continued to glower, but did at least obey. Belle took a deep breath—calming nerves more than centering energy, I knew—then added, “When I originally did this spell, he instinctively retaliated. That might happen again.”
“Monty and I will shield you, lass,” Ashworth said.
“And if all else fails, I’ll shoot him,” Aiden said. “It’s amazing how distracting a bullet in the knee can be.”
Clayton cast Aiden one of his glares even as he snapped, “Can we just get on with this? It’s late, and we’ve a long drive home.”
Monty briefly gripped Belle’s hand and then stepped back beside Ashworth. As the two of them raised a protection barrier, I silently said, How do you want to do this?
I don’t know. She crossed her arms and stared at Clayton for several seconds. The spell is so deeply ingrained I can barely even see it.
For the first time, I actually looked at the spell that had saved me and incapacitated him. It was set low near the base of his spine and had been thrust deep into his body, which was probably one reason why it had lasted as long as it had. Most spells sat on the skin rather than under it, and were therefore easy to examine and unpick. It was only those designed to kill that went internal—and few witches dared perform such spells, thanks to the threefold rule. Only a threat of grave harm could override that rule, and that’s undoubtedly why Belle had never suffered any blowback from her dysfunction spell.
The spell was a thick combination of both our magic and the wild, the latter still pulsing with power. It was no doubt a reason the spell had lasted so long—and also why my father had spent so long looking for me. It was proof that the daughter he’d long thought useless actually wasn’t.
I can see the wild magic, I said eventually. If I pull its threads apart, you should be able to see and unlock the rest of the spell.
Worth a shot. I may have to pull on your magic to do so, though, as that’s how the spell was created.
Take what you need.
Right. She took another deep breath. Let’s do this. You first.
I crossed my arms and studied the gentle pulse of wild magic, following its long, twist
ing thread. When I found the beginning, I reached out magically and carefully pulled it free from the threads of magic it was fueling. It pulsed in response and quickly unspooled from the main spell, but it didn’t disintegrate, as I’d half expected. Instead, it traveled back up the magical line and became part of me again. It felt weird… and yet somehow right.
But with its light gone, the rest of the spell was finally revealed. It was hard to tell Belle’s magic from mine; the connection between us really had been deep when she’d performed the spell.
Can we just take a second to admire the beauty of that spell? came Belle’s comment. Because, damn, it’s good.
A smile twitched my lips. I don’t think Clayton would agree.
Clayton can go fuck himself. Are you sure we can’t leave a parting gift behind? Her mental tones were somewhat wistful. After all, we only promised to remove this spell—we never said anything about not replacing it.
I wish we could, but with my father outside…
Belle sighed. Fine. Let’s undo the damn spell and unleash future hell.
With that, she deepened our connection then pulled my magic into hers and began the process of picking the spell apart. It was an even tougher process than I’d first presumed, because not only had the spell been embedded deep, but some of its threads had latched around the two main arteries that ran the length of his penis. Their removal was tricky—especially given he had his back to us.
By the time the last traces of the spell had been removed, Belle was shaking with fatigue. She took a deep breath and then said, “It’s done.”
Clayton turned around. “Life stirs where none has existed for thirteen years.”
I didn’t want to think about life stirring. Not now. Not ever. Not when it came to him, anyway.
“Thank you for keeping to the deal.” Though his tone was genuine enough, there was something in his eyes that said she was a fool. That if the circumstances had been reversed, he wouldn’t have.
The door opened, and my father stepped in. “That was an interesting experience. Perhaps I should study the use of magic from behind closed doors more often.”
His gaze briefly fell on me, and I knew then that he was now aware just how deep the connection between Belle and me was—and what it meant for us magically.