Arcane Magic (Stella Mayweather Series) (25 page)

"What about us?" I repeated softly, because that was the question I wanted to ask too.

"Where do we go from here?"

I stayed silent. I just didn't know. Over the past few months I knew I didn't want Evan out of my life permanently, and at least now, I understood the reasons why he had been cold; but could I handle him again? Had too much happened? Once more, I felt the cruel stab of exclusion and confusion that first led me to feeling alone and turning to my friend for affection. Except... that would have been an awfully simple way of describing what I felt for Gage.

"I don't know," I replied honestly.

"May I call you when you get home? Maybe visit sometime? We can talk some more, away from all this. Just you and me."

"Maybe." I took a deep breath. "Okay."

Evan's hand slid down my arm to join mine. "Can we, at least… be friends?" he said, his hand wavering, poised for me to take it. "I don't want to lose you again. Please."

I squeezed my fingers around his, sealing us together symbolically. "Friends," I agreed. "Let's just start with friends."

Chapter Twenty-One

We were ordered to assemble in a little more than an hour after Étoile's phone call. I stayed in the same clothes as earlier, deciding that if the ceremony were to get messy, I didn't want to ruin a decent outfit. It was a frugal part of me that remained, no matter how different my life was from the years of living out of a bag in foster care. I just didn't see the point in wasting perfectly good clothing. However, it clearly wasn't a sentiment that was shared in its entirety by those assembled. Some were dressed in their same day clothes, but a few, like Étoile, were dressed to the nines. As I looked around, making my way carefully through the excited crowd, I noted several prominent witches, as well as representatives from all the other factions, except the demons. I figured they had their own problems to deal with for now.

My stomach felt like a knot of nerves, and magic tickled my skin, like pins-and-needles, making me nervous and full of expectation. I was sure I couldn't be the only one feeling so apprehensive, but as I walked around, I got the impression there was more excitement in the air than dread. The werewolves, who comprised the majority of the crowd, were wound up into a state of eager anticipation. It showed on their faces, their posture, and most of all, in the elongated claws some of them revealed instead of their human fingers. Through the crowd, I searched for Gage, but I wasn't sure what to do when I found him. Congratulate him? Warn him to be careful? Hug him?

If we were simply a couple, I could do any of those things, but with our current positions, and our strange circumstances, I feared I could hinder him more than help. Would the werewolves embrace a leader that demonstrated a particular attachment to a witch? Or would that ruin his chances? I wished I could ask him when he chose to put himself forwards as contender; and if the decision were made recently, or long before things changed between us. Despite his rapid ascent in pack politics, he never showed any interest in taking over to me. This was a new and worrying side of Gage that I'd never seen before. Niggling at the edges of my mind was the thought that should Gage win, there would be no question of "us." That decision was preordained pretty much.

"There you are," said Astra, sliding through a gap between two razor-clawed werewolves before
sidling next to me. "We have seats over here."

"Who's we?" I asked.

"A dozen witches, including Étoile, Seren, David, and Kitty. With you and me, that's six, and the others are all from Étoile's inner circle. You might even know them."

I recognised Clare immediately and all but two of the other witches when we joined them, after wending our way through the crowd that pressed close together in the small room. I sat in the rear row next to Kitty, who still looked ashen from realising how close she came to abetting the traitor. When I followed her gaze, I knew why. On his knees in the center, flanked by two other wolves, all in their human forms, was Joel. He stared at the floor, his head bowed. Several other werewolves knelt in the same position behind them. One of them was Tobias Grigg, which didn't surprise me.

"What's happening?" I asked her.

"I'm not sure," Kitty replied, barely looking my way. "I think they’re going to have
some kind of trial before the ceremony."

"What does that involve?"

Kitty simply shrugged and stared at her knees. I reached out and placed my hand over hers, giving it a squeeze. A single tear trickled down her cheek. "Don't blame yourself," I told her. "You didn't know."

"I should have seen it coming. He was too eager, but I liked him, and I was lonely here. I should have seen..."

"No, you shouldn't have." Outside, thunder cracked and a flash of lightning lit up the room for a couple of seconds, causing everyone to jump. I wondered if the weather was a reflection of Kitty's turmoil.

"It won't happen again. I told
Étoile that already."

"You spoke to her?"

Kitty nodded, her lip wobbling. "She chewed me out over it."

"After this is over, why don't you come home with me for a while? Get some space?" I suggested. "Plus, I'm a little lonely without you guys."

This time, Kitty squeezed my hand back. "Thanks."

With Kitty lost in thought, I leaned towards Astra. "Have you seen Gage?"

"No, not yet. I think the contenders and Noah are elsewhere. They will come out in a moment."

"Who determines what happens to them?"

"Usually, their pack would decide, but the whole pack is in trouble, so I'm not sure."

"What's the usual fate?" I asked, lowering my voice and hoping Kitty didn't hear.

"Treasonous acts are punished by death," Astra replied, "It depends how the pack sees it. These guys set a bomb to kill Étoile; but more importantly, they worked against the aims of their own kind. Maybe they'll just get banished."

"Banished?"

"That's not so bad. The pack exiles them and they have to fend for themselves. It was a terrible punishment hundreds of years ago, but now they just live amongst humans instead, and lose their rights to turn ever again or hunt on pack land. The isolation is the worst bit. No one from the pack is allowed to talk or receive them, including their families."

"That's sad."

"It's a good deterrent from becoming a murderer or flouting pack law," said Étoile, twisting in her seat and leaning towards us. "Don't feel too sorry for him."

I was about to apologise to
Étoile for showing sympathy toward her would-be murderer when the door at the far end of the room across from us opened, and Noah Wilde was brought out. His hands were cuffed behind his back, but he didn't struggle, not even when his guards forced him into a kneeling position next to the others. Following them were Gage and Hal Hoag. Both were stripped to their waists and wearing loose shorts. They were barefoot. Seeing their impressive physiques, I briefly wondered if I underestimated Hoag. He looked like a human tank: indestructible and unstoppable.

I half expected them to circle the room, maybe even growling; but instead, they simply moved to opposite corners, standing with their mutual supporters as the excitement amongst the crowd grew louder. I watched Gage, but he studiously stared at anything except me.

On the other side of the crowd, standing with a small party, I spotted Matthias. He caught my eye and gave me a half smile, his mysterious eyes revealing nothing, and his master glanced over at me before saying something to Matthias, after which he inclined his head towards me. I thought the little exchange seemed odd, but I nodded my head in return, since manners cost nothing, before turning away as the crowd's noise began to diminish.

"We are here for two occasions," began a thickly set woman, emerging from the crowd and holding her hands up to shush the remaining whispers.

"That's Constance Fielding," whispered Seren when I leaned forwards and enquired who she was. I remembered her as the werewolf who told Étoile they could settle their leadership disputes before midnight.

"Who?"

"She's another cousin of Noah's, but I don't think they like each other much."

"How come?"

"He killed her first husband."

"Oh."

Constance's voice rose above ours, and I leaned backwards, waiting to hear what she had to say. "First, we will determine the fate of these men, and hear how they plead to the accusation of treason. Second, our leadership fight will commence, ending with the inauguration of our new packmaster." She paused, waiting for the smattering of whispers to die down again before continuing. "We have evidence against each wolf, proving his part in the plot to murder our ally, Étoile Winterstorm, and derail the High Council. How do you plead?"

"Guilty," came the replies of the four kneeling men.

"Noah Wilde, by unanimous vote, your status as packmaster has been brought into question. How do you plead?"

"Not guilty," came his snarl.

"Your pleas have been noted and your fate will be decided by the packmaster."

"I'm the damn packmaster!"

"Step forward, Gage Garoul and Hal Hoag. Do you petition to become packmaster?"

"We do," they replied simultaneously.

"Have you noted Noah Wilde's plea?"

"Yes," they answered.

"The victor will decide his fate and those of the other men on trial." She turned to the guards. "Take them to the opposite sides of the room."

"Is that the whole trial?" I whispered to Astra as the guards pulled the men roughly to the two sides of the room, forcing them to kneel again at the perimeter.

"Yes, bar their fates. They aren't into trials like us."

"So I see."

"Compere," she nodded to the man standing with the guards as he stepped forward, holding one hand aloft and beckoning the competitors with the other.

"Three rounds. Two wins for victory. Let the fight commence," shouted Constance, darting out of the ring as a unanimous roar sounded from the crowd. As one, we all seemed to lean forward a little more.

Gage and Hal circled each other, jogging on their toes. Gage was lighter on his feet, nimbly moving this way and that, but careful not to telegraph his actions with any wide movements. Hal was slower, but when he flexed his biceps, I could only imagine the power that his punch could have. They circled each other for a few moments more until Hal darted forwards, swinging his arm backwards, readying his strike. Gage feinted to his right, ducking around him and landing a blow to his jaw. Hal staggered backwards, shaking his head and blinking with surprise.

They circled again. Hal threw back his arm, Gage feinted again to the side, but instead of dodging the blow, he folded in half as Hal's other fist came up in a sharp upper cut, connecting to Gage's midsection. A smattering of applause sounded, along with a few whistles at Hal's successful strategy.

Gage raised himself to full height again, rolling his shoulders and lifting his fists as they danced around each other, getting closer until the blows began to land. Gage's were well directed, connecting in a series with Hal's gut and chin. Hal's were flying widely all over the place. The objective, I decided, was to cause maximum pain all over and thereby weaken one’s opponent.

My fingers curled under the chair as I watched, hardly able to breathe as the two men battered each other. Gage's arms took the brunt of wider-placed strikes, leaving him unable to get any blows of his own, as Hal continued his relentless attack, lurching forwards and pushing Gage toward the wall. Gage's back hit the wall as the crowd leapt apart. Instead of allowing Hal to continue his battery, Gage pressed his shoulders into the wall, stuck his foot out, and hooked his heel around the back of Hal's knee, pulling his leg out from under him. As Hal crashed to one knee, Gage took the opportunity of his surprise and rained blows to his head, preventing Hal from rising. In one brutal movement, Gage smashed his fist and forearm across Hal's upper back, causing the man to collapse on the ground. Instantly, Gage straddled his chest and landed one last blow to the Hal's jaw. Hal blinked as his chest depressed and his shoulders fell flat against the floor, realising the fight was lost.

"Round one, Gage Garoul," shouted the compere to loud applause. He grabbed Gage's wrist, lifting his hand into the air, while simultaneously pulling him upwards. Gage shook himself, spewing droplets of blood from his cut lip, which flew across the floor. I chanced a brief glance at the vampires, noting that none of them moved, though they watched intently. Already, Gage's skin was covered in burst capillaries and the first signs of bruising. One of his packmembers directed him to their corner and they closed around him, leaving me unable to see. Instead, I watched Hal getting pulled onto his feet, shaking off his surprise at Gage's first attack. Despite his dazed look, he seemed in better shape than Gage. I wondered if he would be able to win through his own endurance, simply by wearing Gage down until he couldn't fight any longer. As Hal's supporters closed around him, I looked away.

Despite Gage's win, my nerves seemed to fray all the more. If Gage could win this next round, that was it. It would be over. He would lead the packs. If he didn't, and Hal equalised the score, there would have to be another brutal round to determine the winner. I just couldn't decide whether I wanted Gage to win or not. All I could do was sit there and watch, vowing to support him whatever the outcome. Until then, I realised, I could make no decisions regarding “us” of my own. I didn’t know whether I wanted him for myself, or was prepared to let him go. I wasn’t sure whether I was okay to have a relationship in secret, or just remain friends. I didn’t even know if we could remain friends. Too much had happened too fast. We were too close, and to be ripped away
now...

Everything changes
, Étoile said, and she was right. The outcome of this fight not only determined Gage's future, but also meant I had some decisions of my own to make pertaining to him and Evan, that is, if either of them were my ultimate choice. Not that I couldn't make a choice here and now, but there was no advantage in coming to a decision that Gage didn't want either. No, I needed to know what he wanted before I could be sure of my own desires. It seemed a cowardly way of choosing my path — wasn't I letting someone else choose it for me? — but I couldn't think of anything else to do. All I could hope was that things would become clearer to me when all this was over and I was home again.