Faerie Magic (23 page)

“Don’t worry about me,” said Isabel. “I carry a dozen anti-faerie spells. He’d regret it if he tried anything.”

I opened my mouth to argue and decided better of it. At this rate, I’d turn into Vance and expect to be in ten places at once. Considering I didn’t have the advantage of a teleporting ability, it’d be a hell of a lot trickier for me.

I have to kill Calder.
I shut the thought away for later, but it remained, beating at the doors in the back of my head.

Isabel moved the sleeping piskie to join Erwin on the windowsill. “Now the
Ivy nearly dies
part of the night’s over, want to watch me test-drive some more tripwire spells?”

I smiled. “Oh hell, yes.”

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

The following morning, I slept in long and late, and woke up to blessed silence and the knowledge that I had one day free from fighting in the Trials.

And then I remembered I’d accepted an invite to one of the mages’ social events, headed by Vance Colton himself.

“Great,” I muttered, rolling out of bed and unplugging my phone from its charger. No messages from Vance.

I considered my ripped jeans and threw them next to the door. Then I picked up every loose article of clothing from the floor, tossing any lost causes into the ‘throw away’ pile as well. Not because Vance might come into my room again. I’d needed to tidy the place for months. Also… I had an impossible task ahead.

My wardrobe consisted of a combination of cheap, jumble sale clothes that ripped or gained permanent bloodstains on the first outing, and the occasional more durable, expensive purchase like my leather jacket. I went for practicality, not style. I didn’t accept invites to parties, human or otherwise.

I kicked the wardrobe door closed and made for the shower. Even after the healing spell, landing on the floor so many times had done a number on my back, and I’d acquired fresh scars to add to the ones I already had. I scowled at my reflection. Assuming I managed to find something to wear, the amount of skin I showed depended on whether I wanted to draw people’s attention to my scars. There’d been no healing spells in Faerie, so every mark stayed on me like a brand.

“Ivy.” Isabel rapped on the door. “Mailman’s here with a delivery for you.”

“I didn’t order anything.” I finished dressing and I tugged a brush through my hair, tying it into its usual ponytail. “No money, remember?”

“It’s in your name.”

Huh? I unlocked the door and went into the hallway, then grabbed my sword. Our wards were in top working order, but I wouldn’t put it past Calder or the other faeries to find some new way to get to me.

The postman flinched away at the sight of my sword. Instead of asking me to sign for the package, he all but fled the doorstep, leaving me blinking. “Oops.”

“What is it?” asked Isabel.

“Good question.” An unlabelled box was a red flag if I ever saw one, but it had made it through seventeen layers of wards. I knelt and tugged at the packaging. Isabel joined me, ripping the cardboard open.

“It’s clothes.”

I looked. She was right. “Well, shit.”

“He didn’t.” Isabel’s face split into a grin. “You told him you didn’t have anything to wear. Right?”

“Oh my god.” How the hell was I even supposed to react to this? “How—shit. I can’t repay him. He knows I don’t have any money. There’s no way.”

“Doubt he expects you to.” Isabel picked up the box. “Let’s see what we’ve got in here.”

She carried the box into the flat, leaving me standing on the doorstep like an idiot. My mind was a blank of shock. Did Vance think I’d been asking him for help?
Jesus.
No matter how dire things got, I never asked other people for help. Pride didn’t allow it.

He likely knew, and had done it anyway.
Dammit, Vance.

“He gets your style.” Isabel deposited the box on the sofa, disturbing a sleeping Erwin. The piskie took flight with a shriek. I stepped around a chalk circle on the floor and stared into the box. He hadn’t just bought me an outfit for today, he’d replaced my jeans… several times over. I pulled article after article of clothing from the box with growing horror. “I’d have to save for six months to pay for all these.”

“He can afford to throw money away.” Isabel examined some of the tops with an appreciative expression. “Don’t worry about it.”

“It’s the principle,” I muttered, ineffectually. A new leather jacket lay near the bottom, complete with inside pockets exactly the right size for my daggers. “Now that’s unfair.”

“Like I said, he knows you.” Isabel pulled out the last two items—dresses. Not open-backed. He’d seen my scars already, of course. I buried my head in my hands and groaned.

When I opened my eyes, the clothes were still there. Isabel held up the two dresses. “Blue or black?”

“Either.” I shrugged.

“Blue,” she said. “It matches your eyes.”

“All right.” He’d won, damn him. If I objected, I’d be ungrateful. He couldn’t know how it felt to constantly struggle for money, and the pride and anger that came from it. It wasn’t fair to blame him for not understanding something he’d never experienced.

Like what Avakis had done. How it had chewed me up inside and changed me.

“Ivy?” Isabel waved the dress in front of me. “You okay?”

“Yeah. I’ll be fine.”

“You’ll be more than fine.” She placed the dress in my hands. “You’ll look stunning. Count on it. If Vance wasn’t already smitten with you, he would be after seeing you in this.”

“If you say so.”

“If you want make-up, I have some. Or we could use a spell—”

“No,” I said, warningly. “Absolutely no spells. I’ve had enough of running around in masks.”

If Vance wanted me, he could have me the way I was. If there was one thing Faerie had taught me, it was that every illusion came with a cost.

***

The dress, as it turned out, didn’t even come down to my knees. I wobbled to the mages’ front door in the ridiculous heels I’d borrowed from Isabel—she’d given me a scandalised look when I’d suggested wearing my boots—and carried a pair of flat shoes in my bag for backup. I hated not having my sword, but I’d been able to fit two daggers in my shoulder bag. They’d have to do.

The door opened, and Vance grinned at me.

I scraped together every piece of dignity I had left. “Thank you for the delivery today.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You’re welcome.”

“Did you expect me to throw it back in your face?”

“Part of me thought you might.” His eyes raked over me, gleaming with obvious appreciation. “You look delectable,” he said in an undertone, sending warm shivers down my spine. He didn’t look half bad himself, though I’d seen him wearing a suit a dozen times.

“How the hell am I supposed to repay you?” I hissed. “I haven’t even solved one case yet.”

“You will.” He glanced over his shoulder. “I need to take care of something. Wanda and Drake are here. I told them you were coming.”

And that was that. Hesitantly, I made my way towards the source of the noise. Twin glass windowed-doors led the way into a huge hall. Tables had been set up around the outskirts, leaving the centre clear for dancing. A beat I didn’t recognise filled the air. Not my taste, but at least it didn’t sound like piano music.

The mages knew how to throw a party, that was for sure. As for me, I stood there like I’d walked into the arena again. A few people glanced at me, but I didn’t attract any derogatory stares this time. I looked like one of them, after all. I scanned the crowd, searching for someone I knew. Instead, my gaze zeroed in on Vance again, who stood talking to two other mages.

I almost wanted to hate him for dragging me into this. I hated crowds, and the bright light of the chandelier made me want to back away into the shadows. I took a glass of champagne from one of the passing servants, since I’d never tried it before. I gingerly took a sip. Yeuch. Maybe not. I ditched it on a nearby table and debated making for the door.

“Ivy!” Wanda approached, smiling at me. She wore a strappy red dress and had her hair styled in curls that I could never hope to achieve. I’d just tied mine back, as usual. “Why are you lurking near the door?”

I gave an awkward shrug. “Social situations aren’t my thing.”

“Vance invited you.”

“He invited everyone.” I indicated the room at large. “Seriously, I’m going—”

“Ivy!” Drake appeared at my side, not looking terrible himself in a smart suit. His coppery hair was unruly as ever. “Glad you could make it.”

“Yeah.”
I’m not.

Drake clearly knew everyone here. Within seconds he’d disappeared onto the dance floor, dragging Wanda along with him. I laughed at her expression, and didn’t notice Vance behind me until he leaned over and whispered, “Dance with me?”

Yes.
“No.”

“You owe me one,” he said quietly. Oh, shit.
He did it on purpose.
He had me cornered.

“I have two left feet.”

“You’re lying. I’ve seen you fight.” He rested a warm hand on my arm. “It’s enchanting. Almost enough to make me drop my guard.”

“Oh please,” I said. “I bet you use that line on all the girls.”

“No,” he said, “I don’t.” He drew me closer to him, raised my hand to his mouth and pressed his lips to it, leaving the skin tingling.

Then before I’d quite regained the use of my mental functions, he’d swept me onto the dance floor.

It came as no surprise that the man could dance. We fell into a rhythm not unlike when we fought, but a different kind of energy filled the air. This was no struggle for dominance. I didn’t even
like
dancing. But the outside world melted away as though a bubble formed around us, and there was nothing but his hand around my waist and the electrifying closeness of his body. Heat blossomed underneath my skin. Damn him, and damn my stupid body for responding to his touch.

“This is ridiculous,” I hissed between my teeth.

He chuckled. “Indulge me.”

“If you insist.”

He leaned closer, hand resting on my shoulder as the rhythm slowed. “Were you really worried about my safety?”

“No. Yes—goddamn you.”

“You’re blushing.” He smirked. “Anyone would think I flustered you.”

“Anyone would think I’m not about to kick you in the kneecap right now.”

“Someone’s twitchy today.”

“Can’t have anything to do with my next duel to the death, can it?”

His smile faded. “You aren’t going to die. Not if I have anything to do with it.”

I stopped moving. Met his grey eyes. “You don’t have to pull the act on me. I can fight by myself.”

“You can’t blame me for worrying about your safety.”

At the end of his sentence, I heard,
especially when you’re so worried about mine.

Sweet Jesus, I was in trouble. His stubble brushed against my cheek, his lips inches from the delicate spot behind my ear. “That dress is making me crazy.”

I exhaled. Finally. He’d admitted he wanted me. And I, fool that I was, stood there like I’d lost all ability to speak. Even to say,
I want you too.
Or
I’m falling for you, Vance.

I said neither, mostly because people were watching. Of course they were. I’d been staring into his eyes like an idiot the whole time we were dancing.

“Ivy.” His voice was barely a breath.

“I want out of here.” My own voice wasn’t much louder, as though he’d totally compromised my vocal chords.

The next thing I knew, he’d pulled me away from the dance floor, to the doors into the hallway. Then his hands were either side of me, pinning me to the wall.

Vance’s mouth found mine, fierce, demanding, stopping my breath. My teeth nipped his lower lip and the growl that escaped his throat told me I had at least some effect on him similar to the one he had on me.

His hands moved to my thighs, below my dress. His mouth claimed mine again, fierce, heated. His fingers inched higher, feather-light against my skin, slipping under the hem, towards the heat building between my legs. I bit back a moan.

“Ivy,” he growled in my ear. “Do you—”

A scream rang through the corridor.

He jerked away from me and I steadied myself against the wall. “What the hell—?” he snarled, spinning around.

Another mage ran past, shouting, “There’s been a security breach.”

“Of what sort?” Vance demanded.

“Brawling half-faeries.”

Vance followed, me running after him. Damn. Had more half-faeries fallen under the drug’s control? Within seconds, the heat igniting in my body turned to ice as the temperature dropped. A breeze ruffled my hair, and Vance’s stony expression told me he was the source, and the culprits would pay for interrupting us.