by Sadie Moss
“I think we’ll leave it there for today. You’ve made a lot of progress. Keep following your instincts to integrate magic into your own fighting style. Make it serve you.”
Holding my hand up, I tossed a small ball of flame into the air in front of me, summoning it and then banishing it in the blink of an eye. It was becoming so easy, so instinctual.
After we caught our breath, I gathered my daggers and reattached them, and then followed Jae from the room. But instead of retracing our steps to the front entrance, he led me up another staircase to the second floor.
I glanced at him curiously when he pulled open a large door and gestured me through into a dimly lit room. “What now?”
He didn’t answer, just raised his hands and spread them wide, as if he were flinging open a set of curtains. On command, all the thick drapes covering the windows flew open, allowing bright shafts of light to pierce the—
“Library.”
The word fell from my lips like a whispered prayer as I took in the large space lined with shelves upon shelves of books. I could read a book a day for the rest of my life and never exhaust the contents of this library.
“Most of them are spell books, books on magical theory, or biographies of powerful historical figures. There are some classics as well.” Jae ran a long finger over the spines of several books. They were bound in leather and embossed with gold lettering.
I closed my eyes for a moment, breathing in the smell of old paper and ink. “This must be where you spent all your time as a kid.”
“It was,” he murmured softly, and for the first time his voice didn’t tighten at the mention of his childhood.
“It’s incredible, Jae.” I turned to him, touched not only that he remembered my love of books, but that he wanted to share this part of himself with me. “Thank you for bringing me here.”
This was the only comfortable-looking space I’d seen in his family’s house so far. Every other room or hallway we’d passed through had felt cold and forbidding, but this room invited the occupant to sit down and stay a while. Several large chairs were spaced throughout the library, perfect for curling up in.
I ran my hand across the upholstery of one. It felt as soft as it looked.
“Well, well. Miss Lockwood.”
The cool voice made me jump, and I whipped around.
Jonas Nocturne stood in the room’s entrance, his face half in shadow. His green eyes gleamed with distaste.
“Minister of Justice.” I straightened, nodding curtly.
Jae’s father leaned against the doorframe, his movements smooth and controlled. “I didn’t see you at the palace today, and I certainly didn’t expect to see you in my home. I thought perhaps you’d realized your presence is not welcome here.”
“I brought her.” Jae’s voice was strained.
Jonas turned on him, a harsh laugh erupting from his mouth. “I thought you would’ve realized you are no longer welcome here either, my son.”
Disquiet churned in my gut at the way he twisted the word, making it sound like an insult. I’d never once seen Jonas treat his son kindly, although he had fawned over me the first couple times we’d met. Back when he thought I was someone important. Not the once-Blighted girl who brought trash into the palace.
“We were just leaving,” Jae said stiffly.
“You know, son, when I saw you with this one at the Grand Ball, I was quite surprised.” Jonas waved a dismissive hand in my direction. “But I won’t pretend I wasn’t pleased. I thought for once you had done something to make this family proud. Now I see you’ve found your perfect match.” He turned on me, lip curling in a sneer. “Or does she make you and those pathetic Touched, and the filthy Blighted man, call her Mistress?”
My hands clenched, anger coursing through me. Not because of Jonas’s words, as insulting as they were, but because of the look on Jae’s face. The color had drained from his cheeks, and his eyes were blinking too rapidly. He seemed frozen in place, unable to respond to his father but unable to walk away.
Leftover adrenaline from our training session still buzzed in my body, and I was tempted to give Jonas a firsthand demonstration of what I’d just learned. But for once, I suppressed my impulse to fight, stepping forward to take Jae’s hand.
“Your son doesn’t have a mistress. He has a partner. And he’s right, we were just leaving.”
Jae squeezed my hand so hard it hurt, but he roused himself to action, walking with me toward the door. Jonah watched us approach but didn’t move, forcing us to squeeze past him to exit the library. As I walked by, he grabbed my arm in a bruising grip.
“You don’t belong here,” he hissed. “Your grandmother may grant you some power for now, but she won’t be around forever, and believe me when I say I will not allow you to succeed her place on the council.”
I yanked away from his hold, fingers itching to reach for one of my daggers. I wouldn’t use magic to fight him, but maybe I could just stab him a few times.
Before I did something incredibly stupid, Jae turned around, his elegant features flushed with anger as he advanced on his father, coming nose to nose with him. “Do. Not. Speak to her like that.”
He leaned in closer with each word, and Jonas took an unconscious step back.
A scowl creased the older mage’s face as he recovered himself. “Just get out.”
I pulled Jae away, and we walked quickly down the stairs and out the front door. He only let go of my hand once we reached the car, and when I shook it out, there were red imprints in the shape of his fingers on the back. Not that I cared. He could crush all the bones in my hand if it helped him deal with the poison his father spewed.
The drive back to Beatrice’s house was tense. I probably should’ve changed into more appropriate clothes for our training session—my dress hadn’t gotten beat up too badly, but it definitely looked worse for wear than it had this morning. I didn’t help matters by twisting the fabric of the skirt around my fingers anxiously while we drove.
As we passed through the quiet streets of my grandmother’s neighborhood, I turned to Jae. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I fucking hate your father.”
His lip curled up into a slight smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “I don’t think there’s a wrong way to take that.”
“He’s an asshole. And he’s obviously not someone we’ve got a shot in hell of getting on our side. I guess we should lump him in the category of ‘actively working against us.’”
Jae nodded stiffly. “That’s probably accurate.”
I rested my hand on his leg, the muscles beneath my palm so tense they felt like stone. “I’m sorry he treats you like that. I don’t understand how he can be so awful. Is there anything I can do?”
“No.” He softened the curt response by adding, “But, thank you.”
We pulled through the gate outside Beatrice’s property. It was mid-afternoon by now, and warm sunlight hit the mansion from behind, giving it a rosy, glowing aura.
As Jae drove around the fountain, the front door opened. Retta fluttered out of the house, her wild hair streaming behind her. She ran up to the car, and I rolled down my window.
“What’s going on, Retta?”
Her big eyes looked like dinner plates behind the thick lenses of her glasses, and her always soft voice was extra breathy from the exertion. “Miss Lockwood wants you to meet her at the palace. She needs to speak to you. She said it’s urgent, and you should come as soon as you can.”
My heart jumped. There was something she’d been about to tell me last night, before Rain interrupted us. Was it so important she needed to talk to me right now?
I shot a look at Jae.
“Can I borrow your car?”
Chapter 14
I ended up having one of Beatrice’s drivers take me to the palace. It was my concession to the four very anxious, very vocal men who worried about me. Plus, their argument was actually pretty solid—I’d have more mobility if I could summon Tarik to pick me up at
any moment than I would if I drove myself and handed my keys over to the palace valet staff.
It was like having a very fancy getaway driver.
Jae stayed behind with the rest of the men. They’d updated Christine on the events of last night, including my talk with my grandmother, and would call again to let her know about this new development.
Retta had instructed me to meet Beatrice in her office at the palace, assuring me my grandmother would be there waiting for me. My stomach twisted with nerves as Tarik pulled up outside the imposing marble monstrosity. In my previous life as a Blighted mercenary, I’d always avoided driving too close to the People’s Palace when I came to the Capital pursuing a mark. And now that I’d been inside it a few times, the palace scared me even more.
I thanked Tarik and hopped out before he could open the door for me. I didn’t have time for that shit today.
Smoothing down the skirt of my new dress, I headed up the steps. My brain was so focused on what my grandmother might know that I lost track of my surroundings.
I didn’t even notice the man stumbling out of the palace doors until he ran into me.
He was tall and wide, and I bounced off his chest, stumbling backward a step. I looked up, opening my mouth to apologize, then froze.
No. It can’t be. What the fuck is he doing here?
It was Gerald—the hefty, surprisingly spry Gifted man I’d been paid to deliver alive the day before my birthday. The man who loved opera and threw my damned enchanted cuffs in the river. Last time I’d seen him, he’d been lying unconscious on the floor of a warehouse in the Outskirts.
And he could blow my entire cover at the palace.
I’d admitted to everyone at the ball last night that I was raised among the Blighted, but I hadn’t even told my grandmother about my past as a merc. It seemed wholly unwise, especially given the Representatives’ concerns about the Gifted abductions. If it came out that I’d been involved in any of that—even if I was working under someone else’s orders—not even Beatrice could save me from their wrath.
Those thoughts flashed through my head in a millisecond as I met Gerald’s eyes, but before I could bolt down the stairs, a guard burst through the palace doors.
“You there!”
My skin chilled. Fuck. Did the Representatives already know somehow? How could they? Gerald hadn’t seen me until now. Or had he been at the ball and taken notice of me there?
I took two tentative steps backward, not wanting to turn away from the threat, my focus shifting from the guard to Gerald. The large man stood stock-still. He was staring at me, a slack expression on his face.
That’s… odd.
“Don’t move!” The guard hustled quickly down the steps, and it was too late to run. I tensed, readying my magic. I doubted I could fight my way out of here, but I’d die trying.
“Are you all right, Miss Lockwood?”
The question from the palace guard was so incongruous that I didn’t answer. He reached us and grabbed Gerald roughly, hauling his hands behind his back. Gerald didn’t resist, stumbling slightly as the man bound his wrists.
“Filthy Blighted. Don’t know how he got in the palace. Probably homeless.”
I blinked. Blighted? Homeless?
Now that I took in the rest of him, I realized Gerald was wearing a torn and stained tuxedo. Maybe the same tuxedo he’d been wearing the night I chased him out of the opera house.
“I don’t understand. What are you talking about?” I asked the guard, a thin man with white-blond hair.
“Caught him wandering the halls. Must’ve slipped inside earlier. Not sure how.” He rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “You don’t—you don’t have to tell your grandmother about this. I’ve got him now. I’ll take care of him.”
“Blighted man? No, he’s….”
I trailed off, a chill creeping through me as though someone had dumped a bucket of ice water in my stomach. Reaching out slowly with my senses, I searched for the power Gerald had exuded when I’d encountered him before.
Nothing.
No great waves of magic rolling off him. Not even a little trickle.
There was nothing.
My gaze flicked up to his, and he peered back at me. His pupils were huge, his eyes unfocused.
“Promised me…” he mumbled. “Promised me my magic back.”
“Shut up, you!” The wiry guard kicked him in the back of the knee. It reminded me uncannily of the way I’d taken him down as I chased him by the river all those weeks ago, and I winced when the big man’s leg buckled. He would’ve gone to his knees if the guard hadn’t been holding him upright.
“No! Wait!” I held up a hand as the blond man raised his foot again. I turned to Gerald, who was muttering under his breath. “Who promised? What are you talking about?”
He looked up, his expression clearing for a moment, but then his face went blank again. “You’ll help me, won’t you, pretty lady? He promised… said I could have it back. I need it. I’m… I’m so… empty.”
Pity and revulsion filled me as I watched the man blubber incoherent pleas to the air.
I looked up at the guard. “Take him somewhere safe.”
“But, Miss Lockwood—”
“Do you have somewhere you can put him?” My voice was sharp and commanding, and the guard dipped his head.
“Yes, Miss Lockwood. There are holding cells in the basement. But—”
“Take him there. And don’t hurt him.” I didn’t even want to imagine what the man’s plans for him would have been if I hadn’t intervened. I shot a sharp look at the guard. “If you do as I say, I won’t tell the Representatives you neglected your duties and allowed a Blighted man to wander the halls of the palace.”
His spine stiffened, and he nodded sharply. He started to haul Gerald up the stairs, but an idea occurred to me, and I held out my hand again. “Hang on!”
The guard hesitated, and I walked quickly up the steps to meet him. I rested my hand on his shoulder, pressing my lips close to the side of his head and pouring charm into his ear. His body stiffened then relaxed, and he let out an entirely indecent moan of pleasure.
I grimaced, but kept whispering in his ear. The guard nodded like he had a spring for a neck as I instructed him to put Gerald in a holding cell, record his crime as something minor, and then forget all about this encounter.
When I finally released the blond man, he roused himself slowly, then renewed his grip on Gerald and forced him back toward the palace. The large man’s head lolled as he stumbled up the steps, his gaze landing on me once again. “Help me… pretty lady….”
Then they both disappeared through the huge entrance doors.
I stood staring after them, my heart thudding like a drumbeat against my ribs.
What the fuck was going on?
I still didn’t know who had hired me to collect Gerald. I’d assumed at the time my client was just another Gifted socialite jockeying for power in the Capital—someone who had needed Gerald out of the way.
But this?
Was this what happened to the other Gifted who disappeared as well? Were they wandering the streets of the Capital, emptied of magic and out of their minds?
I should’ve taken vindictive pleasure in seeing the once powerful Gifted man brought low, forced to become the very thing his kind despised.
But I couldn’t. Instead, guilt and unease twisted in my gut.
Slowly, my feet resumed their forward motion. When I entered the palace, the two Touched men stationed at the door looked at me sharply before nodding with respect and allowing me to continue. I wondered how Gerald had managed to slip into the heavily guarded palace unnoticed; he didn’t seem to have the mental capacity in his present state to be sneaky or subtle.
One of the guards pointed me in the direction of Beatrice’s office, and I walked quickly down the long hallways, more anxious than ever to speak with her. Her office was on the fourth floor in the north wing. A petite fairy with bubble-gum pink hai
r and a sharp chin greeted me sweetly when I arrived, and ushered me in to see Beatrice immediately.
My grandmother sat behind a large desk that almost seemed to swallow up her small frame. She looked up when I entered, gray eyes tired.
“Oh, Lana! Thank you, Zooey. That will be all.”
The fairy bobbed a quick bow and left, closing the door behind her.
Beatrice gestured me closer, and I took a seat in one of the chairs across from her desk.
“I came as soon as Retta told me you wanted to speak with me. I was training with Jae.”
She nodded as she shuffled through some papers on her desk, seeming flustered and distracted. “Good. That’s very good. You’ll need to keep working to master your powers.”
“Yeah. I will. So… what did you want to see me about?”
I decided to wait to tell her about my encounter with Gerald until after I’d heard what she had to say. Although I truly wanted to believe she could be an ally, I knew better than to trust my instincts without question—too many emotions colored my judgment when it came to Beatrice.
She finally stopped fiddling with the documents on her desk and met my gaze. She took a deep breath, and her shoulders slumped as she released it.
“Sweet girl. You look so much like your parents it both breaks my heart and repairs it every time I look at you. Having you back has opened my life up in ways I never expected. You’ve challenged everything I thought I knew, and your presence lights up my lonely old house. And your men’s presence too. I often walk by the kitchen just to hear the sound of you all talking and laughing. Although”—she tilted her head, cocking one eyebrow—“there are other rooms in that big old house, if you’d ever care to spend time in any of them.”
I couldn’t help smiling at that. In my tiny apartment, we’d had little choice but to gather in the kitchen. Apparently, even when we had dozens of other options, that was still where we all gravitated.
“If we did, would you come sit down with us instead of just walking by?” I asked.
She chuckled softly. “Perhaps. I’m an old woman, set in my ways. Changing my habits doesn’t come easily to me. But I want you to know how welcome you and your friends are.”