Enchanter's Echo (17 page)

He lifted his hand to cup her neck slipping under the mass of her curls. His mouth met hers again. A startling heat rushed through the connection. His lips pressed softly as they explored every inch, from one side to the other. It was a hundred tender kisses in one.

Their kiss when he’d destroyed the eye had been hard and demanding, but this was sweet seduction, a promise of what could be…of what they’d had last spring. Matched so perfectly she could never pull away and expect to be complete. And she hadn’t been. Until now.

The heat winding deep within her body stretched out, saturating her with an undeniable need for more.

He tipped his head to nibble at the corner of her mouth. “I need you safe.” His lips tickled at hers as he spoke. “You don’t have to move into Rallis Hall, though I’d choose that, but I’ll find you a real house with real guards.”

She straightened with a jerk. Her forehead thunked against his. “I’m not moving. This is my home. These are my people.”

He sighed and let his forehead rest against hers, just to the right of the bump that throbbed from their impact. He lifted a hand to the spot and gently caressed it as if he knew right where it hurt. “One of whom ripped a fissure through your doorstep.”

“We don’t know that.”

He softened his voice. “Someone tried to hurt you, Ror. Someone who may very well know that you don’t look at the world with your mage sense.” He spoke as if his thoughts were developing at the same time. “Who knows that?”

“It couldn’t have been a threat against me. More likely it’s about you. It’s no secret that we’re...” Together. They weren’t. Her past...her present...would fray any true bond between them. “It’s no secret that we’ve attended events together. No one I know would do this. I’m not moving. And no guards.”

He tilted his head, obviously gathering his next move, his next play.

She needed to beat him to it. “No. You either honor my decision or you depart.” Dear goddess, she’d never said such a thing in her life. She’d never cast a spell that was anywhere close to it.

He blinked, raised one eyebrow, and flattened his lips, though the edges tipped up in a smile. He might have been holding back a laugh. “You don’t know how.”

She raised her palm toward his chest. “I’m really good on the fly. I mean it, Edmund.” If she cast it successfully, he’d be forced out the door and unable to enter until she released it.

His face softened into genuine worry. “You’re my partner in this. We need to stick together.”

She kept her palm up.

“All right, princess, you win. You’re not moving. For now. But only if you promise me that every time you open that door...those vines...down there, you’ll use your mage sense to scan the entire area and the path you’re taking. No more walking around blind. That stops now. And if anything happens to you, expect to move to Rallis Hall. If you fight me on it, I’ll destroy your spells to resist before they form.”

Which he could do right now if she cast the depart spell. She’d played a mean card by threatening such a spell. This wasn’t like her at all. What was he doing to her?

He reached for her hand, entwining his fingers through. “Promise me. Use your mage sense to protect yourself.”

She nodded as he brought her hand to rest against his chest. “I promise I’ll try.” Though it would be a hard one to keep. Searching out danger wasn’t her style. If her people in the forest weren’t enough to change that attitude, nothing was.

He grunted as if he read part of her thoughts and then leaned down to press his lips against hers. “This is foolish.” He wasn’t talking about the kiss, she knew that, though it qualified as just that for her.

“Why am I letting you get away with this?” he asked. “I’m bespelled by an enchantress.”

Digging something from his pocket, he cupped her hand and dropped a charm in her palm.

“Add it to your calling charms. Call me the moment you need me. Or just want me. For anything.” He closed her fingers around it. With a bow, he brushed his lips against her fist, a kiss so soft it was just this side of existence. Her heart fluttered, echoing its delicacy.

He turned and strode away, disappearing down her stairs to reappear below outside. His long steps conquered the frozen ground that in summer’s heat was a marshy softness.

“Be careful.” His whispered words, spelled to her ear, caressed her skin before they shattered to wisps.

* * * *

Leaving her there was wrong, though he didn’t plan to go far. She’d paralyzed his ruthlessness. It was her curves. From top to bottom they were a delicious handful of squeeze and they glittered the most delicious vibes he’d ever felt. It was her mischievous smile, too. And her all-encompassing kindness. He craved her.

He ought to grab the rope in his car, tie her up, toss her over his shoulder, and take her home to his refuge. He’d end up with a hissing, angry enchantress with vibes as ferocious as a declawed kitten, but she’d be safe.

He couldn’t leave her unprotected. Not now. Not ever. With a dark determination, he plotted with every stomp through the field. All three fissures had all been in the Drainpipe, two within the junkyard itself. Every instinct told him the culprit was here. He needed a legitimate reason to hang around.

He fingered the coins in his pocket, recognizing by touch the one he needed. Its price still curdled his gut. The mage who’d created it had warned him it would likely come with side effects. If he’d had to use the
obey
charm on Aurora to keep her out of trouble, those side effects wouldn’t have been a hardship. Not that he’d ever use it on her.

To use it on a man was another story. But he figured he could cancel any amorous actions from the recipient by ordering him to keep his hands to himself. After all, Bull would have to obey. He’d have to let Edmund into the junkyard gang.

As he strode even with the first trash tower, a man stepped out directly in front of his path.

“I hear you want to join the gang.” Bull stood with his arms at his sides, feet planted. The amateur magefighting champion had three inches on Edmund in height and at least six across the shoulders. The three lines tattooed on his left temple were a junkyard gang sign. The highest line was dotted, not solid, indicating his temporary status as leader. Edmund still didn’t understand that move.

The
obey
charm was hellishly sensitive to have activated from his pocket. But it was done.

Bull held out his hands. “As it happens, we have an opening. You’ll have to earn it though. Since you’re...you know…”

Edmund stiffened. Bull had recognized him.

“…a complete stranger and all.” He bared his lips. Perhaps it was meant to be a smile. “But don’t worry. It won’t be bad.”

Bull apparently had a unique definition of the word. Edmund hadn’t trusted Bull’s words then, nor had he trusted them as they’d marched to the metallist’s shop, nor as the gang had gathered and the initiation began and continued without end. Night fell. A new day dawned. At least Edmund thought that was a new day coming. Perhaps something had fallen loose in his brain from one of the blows to his head and now he was seeing light where there was none. He was still standing though.

He had his brother to thank for that. The two had spent much of their childhood fighting each other, testing one another. When Vin had gone off to the army, Edmund had kept up his training. He could still hold his own with his brother, that is, until Vin would get bored with the fight and take him down. But Edmund never made it easy for him.

He eyed all twenty-two gang members, wondering which one was next. They’d watched every minute of his initiation—from being tossed against the trash towers to fights at the far side of the metallist’s shop, and more fights here in front of the shop. Edmund suspected the locations had been carefully timed to keep him out of Aurora’s sight.

The gangly kid to his left scrunched up his nose. “Bull, tell me again why we’re still doing this to him? I, uh, can’t remember.” It hadn’t been hard to figure out the boy was the lowest rank in the gang, but the kid wasn’t stupid. He’d recognized Edmund from the start, obvious from his wide eyes when he first caught sight of him. But the kid had stayed silent, reading his leader’s signals.

“If Miss Aurora told you he’d be a good ganger,” the kid continued, “then she might not be happy about us beatin’ the vibes out of him. You know how nice she likes everybody to act.”

Edmund knew Aurora hadn’t told Bull anything about him, though it had made for a cunning excuse on Bull’s part.

“Initiation, Keene,” Bull growled. “Focus.”

“Well, I’ve been focusing for a day.” Keene ticked off one finger. “A night.” Finger two. “And now a day again.” Finger three. “And I’m ’bout out.” Of course, the kid had two more fingers left.

Goddess help him if this initiation went on for two more fingers.

“If my initiation had gone on this long, I woulda croaked dead vibes ’bout ten fights ago. Not even dipping me in the mark’s power woulda revived me.”

“He’s only fought eight, Keene.” Standing next to the fire in the burn barrel, the oldest gang member spoke with a patience and respect for the kid that everyone else seemed to lack.

Eight fights? Was that all? A mash of fists and takedowns blurred together too much to remember, but he knew he’d come out on top every time. He’d paid for it though. His right cheek throbbed, his left pinkie finger might be broken, and his right knee was screaming. He didn’t have a ninth fight in him, despite the three...or was it four...rests they’d given him, including some kind of food that hadn’t registered as anything familiar to his taste buds.

Bull sauntered inside the circle of gangers. For all his bulk, the man moved as light as a fencer. He yanked his shirt over his head and tossed it aside.

Edmund held his ground. But, damn, this was going to hurt. He was in good shape, muscles lined his body from regular training and workouts, but Bull had rips and cuts on his torso that Edmund hadn’t known were possible.

“What was your name again?” Bull cracked his knuckles.

The jig was up. Truth be told, the music had never even started for this jig. The
obey
charm apparently had a life span the length of a nanosecond or so. Way too short to have cost him so much. Edmund had yet to determine Bull’s game, but figuring out the rules as he played was Edmund’s specialty.

“The name’s Mundie.” It was close enough to the truth to count. “With all due respect, your memory appears short.”

“Just checking on ya. Making sure we hadn’t rattled anything loose in there.” Bull clamped his hand down on Edmund’s head and shook it. “So it’s like Monday or something?”

Edmund shrugged. “I was born on a Monday.” Truth. “My mom struggled to keep track of her kids.” Truth. But his brother had been born on the same day. Twins were usually like that.

“Huh. So who’s your brother? Tuesday?”

He shrugged away Bull’s question.

“So Monday. You got a last name.” Bull hadn’t managed to wring it out of him yet. And he wouldn’t. “You gonna tell me what it is?” He didn’t wait for an answer. Instead, Edmund’s right cheek re-detonated in a fiery pain. The punch came so fast Edmund hadn’t seen it. The hit forced him to the left and he went with his momentum, escaping the next fist in the process. He took Bull down at the knees. The big guy landed on top of him, leaving Edmund flat on his back with the thickest arm in the Republic against his throat and knife-sharp pebbles cutting into his back. The parking lot was rockier than it looked.

“You want in?” Bull’s eyes were black pits, but his teeth gleamed.

Blasted hells, what he’d give to wipe that smirk off Bull’s face with a flash of vibes. Wouldn’t take much, but it would break every rule in the junkyard as concerned initiations. Instead, he kept himself busy trying to find air. It was an all-encompassing activity with Bull’s mass on top of him. “I fulfilled…requirements.” He gasped through the little space left in his windpipe. “Took down eight of you. Rules say two.”

“You know the rules, do you? How’s that? Aurora sure as fuck didn’t tell you.”

Edmund knew everything about this territory. It was his. “I earned my spot.” The soundless words managed to communicate his sense of unfairness. “You’re breaking the rules.” Dark splotches danced in front of his eyes.

“You’re special, Monday.”

“I’m beginning to think—” big pause for gulping air “—maybe you don’t want me.” Another hoarse gasp. “All this is just to beat the shit out me as the young man so aptly put it.”

“Oh, I want you. We need someone who can use the word
aptly
and all those other bullshit fancy words. You’re an expansion pack for our vocabulary. I just had to be sure,
Monday,
this is where you want to be. The junkyard gang defends the most important land in the territory. Some might think the fucking fortress on the other side of the city ranks as the shit. But it isn’t. This territory can’t function without the towers, yet we are the lowest of all the warrior mages. We’re dirt. Lower than farmers. You join with us, you’ll be like us.”

“Maybe I’ll elevate your social status,” Edmund gasped.

Bull tightened his arm. “With your mere presence?”

He choked against Bull’s arm. “With my impressive vocabulary.”

The other man smirked. “Be my guest. But it’s not too late. You can walk out. Now. No harm done. No repercussions.”

“Bull,” the older man spoke up. “I think he wants to be here. Let’s finish this and get back to business. For some reason our girl’s got a line of people out her shop door. Think we ought to see to it.”

Bull tilted his head at Edmund. “Back to the business of guarding the heart of the Pipe. That’s the destiny you’re binding yourself to.”

He already had actually. He was born destined to guard the entire territory. “I want in.” His rough gasp was mostly intelligible.

“Then you’re in.” For a moment, Bull’s eye brightened with excitement. That glimmer likely meant nothing good for Edmund, but so long as he didn’t die, he figured it would turn out all right. Worming his way out of trouble had always been sheer pleasure.

His arms shook with the exertion of pressing against Bull’s beefy hold. “Forgive me for asking, but if I’m in, why are you still trying to kill me?”