King's Gambit (26 page)

“I’ll heal,” I said in a last ditch effort to keep him away.

It’s not like I was lying. The bones in my legs were bullet hole free now, and it no longer felt like someone had me on the rack whenever I breathed. Outside of the aches and bruises, the only problem was my extra crispy arm, and even that was starting to look a little better. Okay, no it wasn’t – it looked just as disfigured as before. But if I rinsed it off, I would probably see the beginnings of some newly healed skin. Of course, if I actually tried to rinse it off, I’d pass out from the pain, and being KO’d by water wasn’t on my bucket list.

“You’re in pain.” The concern on his face was genuine. I didn’t know how to feel about that. “Please.”

I huffed and held my arm out, squeezing Dorian’s hand as the pain hit. “Sorry.”

Dorian just shrugged. Glad to know one of us wasn’t in pain.

The iciness of Noah’s hands didn’t register over my charred skin, which I took as a really bad sign. “It’s okay.” His calm manner was comforting, but I’d never admit it out loud. I wonder if he used to be a doctor. “I’ll heal the nerves as best I can, then we’ll need to clean the arm up. There’s too much melted leather and dead skin for me to work past.”

Dorian leaned forward to look at my arm.

“Behave,” Elise called, surprising me. I forgot she was still here. Oops.

Noah glanced up at the little boy. If he had any insight at all that Dorian wasn’t “normal,” he didn’t mention it. “Cleaning the debris off will be very painful. I’ll have to peel it–”

I held my good hand up. “I’ll live. Unlike everyone else in here. Ha, get it? Because you’re–”

“When I step forward as king again, my first act will be to charge you for every dead/alive joke you make henceforth,” said Marcus.

“You’d miss it if I stopped.”

“Do give me a chance to test that theory, dearheart.”

I stuck my tongue out, but he still had his damn arm over his eyes. “Can’t we just let this heal on its own?”

“Hellfire will take time to heal without magic, if it heals at all,” said Noah. “And we still need to clear the stuff melted onto you.”

The vain part of me shrieked at the thought of having a permanently disfigured arm, while the rest of me felt ill to learn of something else I couldn’t heal through. Well, regenerate past. Wait, could I? Maybe I was freaking out over nothing. If I was, then at least things were getting back to normal.

Once he’d healed what he could, Noah led me to the restroom to wash off the debris. The moment the water hit my arm, I immediately regretted letting him even sit next to me in the living room. I still had vivid memories – and the occasional nightmare – of being skinned alive since my trip to Dovesport, and I could say with one hundred percent certainty that this was twice as painful. Maybe it’s because I was experiencing it firsthand instead of through a Garou dreamwalk.

“This is dead skin, why does it hurt– Fuck!” I kneed Noah. “You’re doing this on purpose.”

He gave me a pointed look. “I’ve dealt with children who are less fussy.”

“Bite me. Wait, no, don’t.” I raised my shoulders to cover my neck.

His lips twitched at the sight. “Hold still.”

By the time he was done, I had my face buried in his shoulder
again
as I tried to scavenge the tiny remnants of my pride. That hint of lily entered my nose, and I made a note to ask him what kind of soap he used. It was nice.

“That is gross,” I mumbled, watching blackened chunks of skin and leather swirl down the drain. “So gross.”

Now that it was clean, I could see the skin on my arm was an angry pink color, mottled with dark speckles of red – not muscle, I noted with relief. I’d seen enough of my musculature breaking into Wright’s safe and had no interest in looking that deep inside myself ever again, no matter how important New Agers said it was.

“You’ve healed remarkably fast,” he said, “even for your abilities.” He looked up at me when I stiffened. “Yes, I know about that. I thought what happened in my hotel room would have made that quite clear.”

“It’s not a secret,” I said defensively.

He ignored my comment in favor of inspecting my arm while muttering to himself. “Could be the adrenaline or maybe…”

“Maybe…?”

He turned my arm over a few times. “I don’t suppose you’d let me take a sample of your blood–”

“No.” I narrowed my eyes. “No, no, no. I already let us mix magic. No.”

“That’s not the same thing–”

“No. You’re a thaumaturge. No.”

Rather than being annoyed, Noah actually seemed amused by my reply. His lips tightened, quivering like he was holding back a laugh. “That reminds me, are you sure you’ve never let someone use your magic to strengthen theirs or absorbed another’s magic to augment your own?”

“Positive. I don’t know any magic users I’d trust enough to do that with.” Noah raised a brow, and I said, “We would have died.”

He nodded. “Twice, for some of us. I’m glad we didn’t.”

“Looks like we have something in common, then.”

“I’m sure we have plenty of things in common,” he said, mystery dancing in his grey eyes.

“Dude, are you hitting on me?” Apparently, my filter was off for the night. Not that it worked very well when it was on.

“No!” He seemed so taken aback by the very thought I couldn’t help feeling a little insulted. “Sorry, but no, that wouldn’t be appropriate.”

“Not into younger girls, huh?”

His laugh was hoarse and short lived, like he hadn’t done it in a while. He pat my arm. “There, all better.”

“Hm? Oh.” I looked down to find my arm in perfect shape. “Better than plastic surgery.”

“Cheaper, too,” he said with a genuine smile. Like his laugh, it looked like it hadn’t graced him with its presence in a long time.

Now that he was in a good mood, I decided to pounce. “So, tell me about Lucas.” Hey, I’m not a cat – elegance isn’t included in my pouncing.

The smile left his face. “He’s dangerous.”

“Pretty much everyone I know is dangerous. My cousin is capable of starting a house fire with a frying pan and a dollop of butter. And that kid out there? He once killed ten people with a bucket.”

Noah’s features lightened up again. He was actually pretty handsome when he didn’t look like he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. “With what that boy is…I highly doubt he’s done anything of the sort.”

Now
that
was interesting. “What is he?”

“You ask a lot of questions.”

“And get no answers. Care to help balance the scales?”

“I would love to.” He looked away. “But I can’t.”

“Why the hell not?”

“I made a promise,” he said with an air of finality. I knew I wasn’t going to get more – or anything, really – out of him. If I had any energy left, I would’ve pushed harder, but the night had left me completely drained. “If there’s anything else I can help you with…”

“Tell me about my mother.”

He sighed and ran a hand down his face. “Anything else.”

“I feel like the list of things you can’t talk about is longer than the list of things you can talk about?”

“I can teach you magic.”

“I know magic. How about teaching me how to pick winning lottery tickets?”

“If I could, I certainly would.” He smiled again, but still managed to look a little sad. “However, I’m certain I could teach you a few new spells.”

“I’m not interested in infernalism.”

“Ah, you noticed.”

“Kind of hard to ignore the demonic magic flowing around my own.”

“I…” He had that mysterious look again, and it made me want to scratch his eyes out. Squeezing my arm, he said, “Regardless, my offer stands. If you ever need anything, you can reach me through the mirror. I’ll answer whenever I can.”

Why did it feel like “whenever” wouldn’t be very often? “Not to sound ungrateful, but why? What’s your game? You refuse to talk about your veritable clones. You say I can ask you anything, then shut the door in my face.” I placed my hands on my hips and stared him down. “There’s got to be a reason. What’s your angle, dude?”

“My angle…” he repeated. “Well, I used to be a doctor when I was human. I’m still a healer – helping people is what I do.”

Called the doctor thing, but I wasn’t buying the rest. “Is that why you’re going to Canada, to help people?”

“There are sick people in Canada, too.”

I kind of wish Flavius had strung him up instead. Great, now I felt bad.

Noah tilted his head. “About?”

“Lucas does that – is it genetic?”

“You’re doing it.”

I straightened up. “No, I’m not. Shut up.”

“Anyway…” He began looking me over. “You said you felt bad. Are you injured anywhere else?”

I need to stop letting my thoughts slip out. “Yeah. I mean, I’m sore as hell, but fine otherwise. I need some sleep is all.”

He led me back to the living room. “I’m sure Alex will be glad for the company.”

“All better, I see.” Khalil was back in his armchair. “King Marcus will be ecstatic to hear it. He’s retired for the morning, but I’ll tell him first thing tomorrow night.”

“Marcus will be ecstatic to see his office again,” I said, smiling down at Dorian as he came to inspect my arm. “My arm isn’t a big deal, Dorian.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” said Khalil. “It is a very lovely arm.”

“Do your inane flirtations ever end?” Elise groaned. She seemed to be more comfortable with us. I’m glad.

“It was simply a compliment, my dear. No need to be jealous–”

“I am not so tired that I can’t set you on fire.”

“Better you than our foreign friend here.” He gestured to Noah. “Though I don’t imagine hellfire would affect me any differently than regular fire.”

“That reminds me,” I said to Noah, “how’d you lose control of the flames?”

It was presumptuous to assume his skill was on par with Lucas’, but it was still strange how wild he let the fire get.

“I didn’t…”

“Given the circumstances,” Elise told him, “I think I speak for everyone when I say we can let the infernalism go this time. You needn’t be worried, Monsieur…”

“Noah is fine.”

“You didn’t answer my question,” I said.

“A recurring theme, it seems.” He gave me a rueful smile. “Regardless, I think it would be best to let this matter lie – at least for the time being. I need to hurry back to the hotel before daylight comes.”

“There’s plenty of room,” said Khalil. “You’re welcome to stay here.”

“That’s kind of you, but I’d prefer to return to my things.” Noah bowed, and with a polite goodbye, exited the apartment.

“Is this your place?” I asked Khalil.

“The king’s.”

Elise let out a content sigh. “What a wonderful title to hear now that it precedes the correct name.”

“Almost as wonderful as ‘Elise Dubois, Magical Advisor to the King.’”

She scoffed, but the corners of her lips were tugged up.

Khalil walked over to me with his signature charming smirk. “I’ll escort you to the room I placed Alex in. Unless you’d rather sleep somewhere else?”

“We’ll always have…whatever the name of Robert’s gala was.” I sighed dramatically. “If only we’d met a year ago – we could’ve had some fun.”

“Such woe.” He placed his hands over his heart, grin still in place. “I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep tonight.”

“I would be willing to electrocute you into unconsciousness,” said Elise.

“She’s just jealous,” he whispered loudly into my ear. A flash of light flew by us a second later, and we turned to see electricity cackling from the blonde’s fingertips. “That just proves my point.”

Elise glared at him, stood up, and pulled Dorian to her. “We’ll be turning in now. Good night.”

“Wait.” I knelt down to look Dorian in the eye. “Have you ever killed someone with a bucket?”

The smile he gave me was a little too devilish for comfort.

20

Parties sucked and then you died. Then, if you became a vampire, you had to suffer through even more of them. Well, no thank you. Not for me.

Tonight was the big gala celebrating Marcus’ rise to king. Again. He invited me, and after my scathing look and tirade about what happened at the last party I’d attended, he very politely rescinded his invitation.

Fuck parties. Lying here with Alex re-watching
Harry Potter
was a million times better than wearing six-inch heels and chasing after waiters for more booze. I didn’t need heels here – or pants, which was the best way to sell me on any idea. Unfortunately, there was no booze, either. Alex hadn’t looked too happy when I grabbed the bottle, so I put it back. The things we do for love.

I pressed my head against Alex’s chest but quickly pulled away. “Sorry.”

“I was stabbed over a week ago.” He pulled me back against him. “I’m fine now. Besides, you’ve been laying on top of me for three whole movies.”

“Yeah, but my head was on your shoulder; it’s different.” I looked up at him. “Are you sure I’m not hurting you?”

“Positive. Going to that party would have been torture, but this? This is perfect.”

“Dude, I was just thinking that.” I held my hand up, and he high-fived me. “I’m curious to hear Marcus explain away everything that happened, though. His way with words is kind of amazing.”