King's Gambit (12 page)

“I remember him acting strangely around that time. At first, I assumed he was worried about who would be coming in to replace you while you were gone, but then I remembered something he said on the phone after giving you the information,” Flavius shrugged dramatically. “I’m rambling, excuse me.”

I knew he was baiting me, but the siren call of knowledge was too tempting to resist. “What did he say?”

The nonchalance in his tone was thick enough to swim in. “I can’t remember the exact phrasing. Something along the lines of ‘I told her. She’ll be there soon.’ He was probably thanking the contact who provided him with the information. Nothing to worry about, I’m sure.”

Which is why you brought it up, right?
“He didn’t mention a name?”

“No.” Flavius shook his head before changing the topic like a tyrannical cat owner yanking the toy mouse away. “Regardless, this city needs both of us to keep it safe. I do hope you and I will be able to have as mutually beneficial a relationship as you had with Marcus.”

I nodded along, trying to process the blatant accusation. Had Marcus really sold me out? No, Flavius was just trying to mess with my head. Then again, it wouldn’t be the first time a vampire – or a politician – threw a friend under the bus for personal gain.

“And,” he continued, “should you need any information on a case you’re working on, I shall try my best to assist.”

Couldn’t hurt at this point. “Actually, I am looking into someone. A vampire. He uses a variety of aliases, but one of them is ‘Lucas.’ Mage. Infernalist.”

Flavius snapped his head back to me. Vampires hated infernalists almost more than anyone else; they held veritable witch hunts when one was reported in town. “A dangerous man, then. The name doesn’t ring any bells, but Mistress Zhen has more knowledge of our kind’s magical community. I’ll pass it on to her.”

“I hope I’m not imposing.”

“Nonsense, every infernalist we snuff out is one less danger to both my kind and yours. I will let you know if I hear anything. And I promise, you won’t need to take an extended vacation after following one of my leads,” he added with a wink. I’m sure he meant it as a joke, but I was too perturbed by the implications to fake amusement.

“Thank you for your time.”

“Good evening, Miss Maxwell.”

With no ideas left on where to go, I trudged back home. The lights were off, but I heard Alex’s soft snores from the couch.
He didn’t leave.
My heart fluttered at the thought, and I sighed in relief. I closed the door behind me, making sure to lock it, and summoned a ghost light in the palm of my hand. The small orb of pale luminescence fluttered up and bumped against my nose playfully. I smiled at the action, at least someone here liked me.

Setting up wards didn’t make a lot of noise. So, after summoning up a few more lights into an almost festive garland, I got to work. I knelt on the ground and pressed my hands flat on the floor in front of me. Guilt tugged at me as I realized how much colder it was in here without the wards – did Alex have enough blankets? I was halfway into a standing position before I forced myself back to the ground.
Focus on the wards – they’ll warm him up.

I pictured the necessary sigils and traced over them in my head, using my magic to fill in the blanks. Rituals, wards, and all other things that weren’t “pew-pew-facemelt” required a more tactful approach. For me, that involved memorizing – or even creating – specific shapes and designs associated with the required act. With my eyes closed, I could picture all the wards’ designs in my apartment. They were fractured, jagged along the edges, but fixing them was as simple as reforming the shapes and injecting the magic back in. Simple but not easy; it took me years to be able to do this properly.

The longer I sat there, the warmer the room became. When the sigils in my mind’s eye were all glowing a warm, shimmering gold, I took a deep breath and opened my eyes, taking a minute to come down from my magical high. I could look up more protections later. For now, I wanted this day to be over in hopes that tomorrow would be better.

I laid in bed listening to Alex sleep downstairs. It felt like we were separate from the rest of the world – nothing existed except for us. The only thing that could’ve made this better was if we didn’t currently have a solar system’s worth of distance between us, but I’d settle for getting some rest. My mind, however, was an asshole, and decided now was the time to keep conjuring shit up. I suppose it was just trying to reassure me that, yes, I was still part of the rest of the world, but fuck that – I just wanted to sleep.

In the end, I drifted off with even more questions and doubts than before. I couldn’t bring myself to complain, though. After all, they were the only company I had in my cold, empty bed.

9

I let out a groggy, satisfied moan as the smell of pancakes and bacon drifted up into my nest. It took some time before I realized I wasn’t back in Haven with Alex, procrastinating in my hunter duties and dragging out my sick leave to spend time with my overly serious boyfriend.

If I could still call him that.

Now upset, hungry, and way too hot, I pulled off my blankets and headed downstairs. Alex was standing in the kitchen, cooking on a stove I was surprised hadn’t died from neglect.

“Morning,” he called. “Breakfast – well, dinner – is almost ready.”

I stared at him, my face blank. “You’re still here. Which is good,” I added when he raised a brow. “I’m just…surprised. Pleasantly surprised. It’s good. Really good. I’m glad. That you’re here. Please stop me.”

“You said I could stay if I wanted to,” he said, mercifully interrupting my genius babble. “And I wanted to. If you want me to leave–”

With a shake of my head, I sprinted down the rest of the stairs and jumped on him, wrapping my legs around his waist and kissing him senseless. He tensed on impact before relaxing, sliding his hands up my bare legs to grip my unfortunately not bare ass.

It was a weird, random, thing for me to do, but I didn’t care. This was the first kiss we’d shared since he’d arrived. Which I know was less than twenty-four hours ago, but fuck it. I hadn’t seen him in two weeks, and I’d missed him.

“Fuck,” I whispered, pulling away from him long enough to get some air. “I missed you so much.”

He breathed out a reply that sounded like my name before recapturing my lips, tangling his fingers in my hair. I shivered as his lips moved to trace the line of my jaw, straying over to kiss the sensitive spot behind my ear before sliding further down my neck, every touch sending currents of heat and electricity through my body.

Soon, too soon, he pulled back to press his forehead against mine. I let myself get lost in the blue ocean that was his eyes.

“Hi,” I whispered shyly. “I missed you.”

“Hi,” he whispered back, smiling that amazing smile I loved. “I missed you, too.”

“So, we’re back to this thing where you copy me?”

“I don’t know, should I hop into your arms?”

“Only if you want to land on your ass,” I said, pressing a kiss to his lips. “An ass I will kick if that bacon gets burnt.”

He set me down, and I whined until he reminded me of the all-precious bacon he needed to tend to. “Feel free to tell me why you’re walking around in your underwear in the dead of winter while I finish up here.”

“I am not one to bend to common sense. You should know that by now,” I said, taking a seat at the counter and shivering as my thighs touched the stool’s cool surface. Sadly, my wards did not heat the furniture. “Unless there’s a shirt of yours I can steal. Preferably one that covers my thighs.”

Alex slid the pancakes and bacon onto two plates and brought them over. “As I recall, you had enough clothing in Haven to fill several closets. I fail to see why that wouldn’t be the case here.”

“Your shirts are better.” I picked up a piece of bacon, then quickly dropped it and put my scalded finger in my mouth. “You tricked me.”

“I’m sorry,” he chuckled. “I forgot you have no idea how cooking works. Things are hot when you take them off–”

“Jerk. You’re sleeping on the couch again tonight. Morning. Whatever.”

He shrugged. “It’s a comfortable couch.”

“I know, right? Hell yes. I spent ages in that furniture store lying on different pieces. Rowan thought I’d gotten killed.”

“You end up falling asleep on it while watching TV, don’t you?” It was phrased as a question but spoken as a sentence.

“…I can neither confirm nor deny. However, I will update my previous statement: you are sleeping on the floor.”

He laughed, the sound pure heaven to my ears. “Are the wards back up?”

“Does it feel like the North Pole?”

“A simple ‘yes’ would have sufficed.”

“We both know I’m not that agreeable,” I said, peering over his shoulder. “Is that syrup?”

“Hm? Oh, right.” He placed the bottle between us. “I went grocery shopping after I woke up. Stupid question, but are you aware the only edible things you had were tea, coffee, alcohol, and instant popcorn?”

I glanced up at him as I drowned my pancakes in syrup. “Were you aware all I had at Haven was tea, coffee, alcohol, and instant popcorn?”

“You’re right,” he said, staring off into the distance like he was reliving the memory. “I’d blocked that travesty out.”

Snorting, I picked up the bacon again, happy to report it was no longer burning hot. “You are remarkably well-adjusted,” I remarked. “Y’know, for a guy who rises before the sun does. I thought you’d be a zombie at this time of night.”

“It’s not that late, yet. And being able to adjust to any situation is one of the Order’s primary tenets.”

“Pretty sure ‘Always be prepared’ is a Boy Scout thing,” I said, letting out a cry of outrage as Alex took the syrup away.

He wrinkled his nose, taking in the sight of my drenched pancakes. “You’ve had enough.”

“There’s no such thing.”

“I’m sorry.” The severity of his tone told me he wasn’t referring to the syrup. “I don’t have the right to dictate what you can and can’t say – or who you say it to. Seeing you last night just…” he cut off with a sigh. “It caught me off guard. I’ll try to lighten up.”

“About this,” I clarified with an impish smile. “Because there is no way that stick up your ass is sliding out anytime soon.”

He opened his mouth, paused, and then shut it. “Fair enough. So, what’s the plan for today? Night. Whate– Great, now I’m doing it.”

“I’m very influential.” I waggled my eyebrows. “As for tonight, I was thinking we could stay in. Bed, that is. And when you get tired, I’ll work on setting up new wards. Then, round two, then three, then four…”

“I get it: we’re staying in.”

“Well, technically,
you’re
–”

“Don’t.”

“There’s a special place in Hell for art haters.”

“I don’t hate art.” He patted my hand. “It’s just that every time I hear a pun, it makes me want to claw my eyes out.”

I glared at him. “Special. Place. In. Hell. No, really, I’m going to call Ipos and see if he can arrange it.”

“He probably could.”

“Speaking of Hell,” I said, swiping his bacon, “have there been any rumblings about the Spire from your end?”

“No, people aren’t too concerned with that ritual being performed again since the timing on it is so specific. Unless someone figures out how to force six hundred years to pass, I don’t think the Council is going to dedicate a lot of manpower to it. They’re still looking for Lucas because of his involvement in Lady Cassandra’s murder, however.”

“I think people should be worried there’s actually a way to launch a jailbreak for Hell’s Hall of Evil–”

“Please stop naming things. You’re bad at it.”

“Bite me, bitch,” I said without missing a beat.

He scoffed. “Are you done?” At my nod, he took the dishes away, leaving me to finish off the last piece of bacon. His bacon, which made him my favorite person ever – eating with Lily or Rowan was like fighting a war.

“I just thought of ‘your bacon’ and it sounded really wrong, but I swear it was innocent.”

“Why don’t I believe you?” he said.

“Pattern recognition probably. Just leave the dishes and let’s go have sex.”

Alex rolled his eyes and sighed, but didn’t argue.