Binding Magic (An Obscure Magic Book 7) (2 page)

She sighed. “This is not turning into my day.”

Norman patted her hand. “It will be fine. He is not vindictive.”

Minerva laughed. “That is not what I have heard.”

Norman smiled, and their vehicle continued to twist its way into the mountainside.

The dragon’s manor was a lair built into the side of a cliff face like the ancient city of Petra.

She could see the smoothly carved pillars of stone as they approached. When the vehicle stopped, the driver opened Norman’s door, and he came around to open hers.

Her bag was whisked away from her and into the elegant cavern in the cliff.

Norman took her hand and helped her out of the transport, leading her into the structure that had been crafted out of the local stone.

The interior had the ambience of a hotel without the front desk. Couches, low tables and bars were around the huge entry chamber.

Norman spoke softly. “Sound echoes here, so this is the chamber of communication.”

Minerva looked around casually and saw a few familiar faces and several unfamiliar species. Everyone was milling around with their gazes on a nondescript door connected to a long tower.

“I am guessing that it rises to his personal quarters?”

Norman nodded. “He uses it only when he has guests.”

To answer her next question, the door opened silently, and a dishevelled blond elf stumbled out and into the arms of her people. She gave them a nod, and the men grinned, congratulating themselves. Sex for favours was not concealed in the extranatural community.

Minerva looked the woman over and determined that the favour she had offered was a blowjob. There was redness around her lips and her legs were firmly together, so penetration had not occurred. It was a good thing to note. She wasn’t offering Zemuel her body, but knowing what he was likely to ask for was a bit of information that would change how she interacted with him.

If Zemuel were ruled by a sexual urge, it would make her method of negotiating a little more overt.

“Mage, please come this way.” Norman looked a little flustered.

She grinned. Gargoyles had a prudish streak that popped up now and then. Apparently, Norman was in that particular mood.

A second, more ornate, elevator took her upward, and she swayed. She was nearing the edge of exhaustion. Either she could cast a spell for energy that would knock her out for a few days when it had run its course, or she could take a nap. Minerva was voting for nap.

“Mr. Norman? What is the local time?”

“Oh, it is nine in the morning. The cocktails will begin at seven in the evening, and he will take up his throne at eight. After that, he will select those allowed to try and win a petition for three hours. Then, he hears the petitions and everyone is dismissed immediately after, somewhere around four in the morning.”

The elevator chimed, and the door opened on her floor. Well, it was also her room. The elevator opened into the guest suite.

Norman escorted her inside, his wings folded against his back. “All amenities are here; you have a balcony, a fireplace if you want it. The tub is filled in under a minute, and there is a robe for you. Your bag has been unpacked, and if you like, we will give you a call before the cocktails begin.”

She glanced at him. “Do the goblins have a similar suite?”

He chuckled. “They are not allowed to remain on the premises. If they can make it here before the cocktail hour, they will be allowed in. At the stroke of seven, the doors are locked for new entries.”

She checked her phone. “There’s no signal.”

“No, he has never seen the need for one, so we don’t have a tower. Your connectivity will resume the moment that you leave the mountains.” Norman paused. “Do you have any other questions?”

“I would like a wakeup call at six if that isn’t too much trouble.”

“Of course. I will have it registered. Enjoy your stay and your rest.”

She nodded. “Thank you. See you later.”

Norman returned to the elevator, and she was alone.

The remote for the drapes had instructions attached, and she closed them, revelling in the dark cocoon that was created.

She stripped and crawled into the bed, her clothing draped over the foot. She set her alarm for eight hours and placed it next to her head.

It said a lot about her life that she simply dropped into sleep without another thought.

* * * *

Zemuel watched the monitor and turned his head as his assistant came in. “Well, she actually did want to sleep.”

“Last night was Beneficia Ganger’s wedding, and Minerva was a member of the bride’s party. She looked tired.”

Zemuel nodded. “She did.” He drew a clawed finger along the curve of her cheek on the display.

It was as if she could feel it. She muttered in her sleep and turned to her side, exposing the pale curve of her back and hips as the sheet shifted.

He smiled and trailed his finger down that sensuous curve. “She is magnificent.”

“Sir, if I may?”

“Speak.” Zemuel scowled.

“She was in the entry chamber when your earlier—uh—companion came down. Her expression indicated disgust with the situation.”

His moment with the elf had nearly been forgotten. He had granted their request for limited mineral rights within their demesne, and she had insisted on thanking him with her mouth. It had not been a difficult decision, and his contact with her had been to stroke the froth of her hair.

“Fuck. That is going to make things awkward.” Zemuel had been researching the woman on the screen for a year. Her body made his mouth water, and his senses were on peak alert when he saw the CCTV recordings of her in the park, opening the gateway to the demon zone. It had taken a lot of influence and more money to get the recording deleted from systems across the country.

He knew his mate from the moment he had first laid eyes on her. His collection of magical anomaly videos had shown him Minerva in all of her glory.

Once he had her
scent,
it had taken a year of waiting to find a situation that would bring her to him. That moment was here.

He would be able to smooth over the elf and her service if Minerva asked. He doubted that she would comment on it. She had been around the extranaturals most of her life. Sex and magic were traded for power all the time. Some races used it as standard currency.

Norman cleared his throat. “I do not feel it is appropriate for you to be watching her. She is a lady, a mage and a respectable woman. Dignity in every bone of her body, and this kind of peeping is an invasion of her privacy.”

Zemuel raised his brows in surprise. “You are standing up for her?”

“She is asleep, so she needs someone to do it.”

Zemuel grinned and turned off the camera. “So, she already has a champion. Interesting.”

“She is an interesting woman and deserves to be treated with respect.”

“Fair enough. I will speak with her this evening.” He smirked. “What shall I have her do?”

He could see that Norman was going through a dozen or more of the creative events that Zemuel had insisted on over the decades since he began this process.

“Have her sing. She has a good voice, and it is unrelated to anything else that she does. If you gain her cooperation and keep her, you need to see how she will perform in public.”

He nodded. “Excellent point. Make sure that you draw singing from the bag when the time comes.”

Norman inclined his head, and his wings came out slightly. “Yes, my lord.”

Zemuel looked longingly at his monitor but decided to get to work on the new tower. He flexed his hands and the claws extended.

He left the media room and walked out to the balcony. He opened his wings and launched himself into the hollow cavern. He soared in the darkness of his domain and used the feel of the rocks around him. Smiling to himself, he went to the hidden fresco that he was working on, carving the image of her smooth back into the stone. Curls of granite fell to the distant cavern floor far below.

Once that was done, he worked on what he considered to be his weekend cottage. He had already carved out the staircase, and now, the wide-open floor space needed finishing. He had time to spend before the evening’s festivities and clawing his way through stone would keep him from thinking about flying to Minerva’s quarters and peeling back her sheets.

He needed to wait on that until they had been properly introduced.

After they were together, he wanted everything she was willing to give.

* * * *

The wakeup call had come while she was getting out of the shower. As fun as the tub looked, it wasn’t quite the day to enjoy it.

Minerva dried off, wrapped a towel around her and brushed her hair. There was no hair dryer, so she whispered a small spell and her hair curled and cascaded softly down her back in precise waves.

It was the easiest part of her ritual to get ready.

She sighed as her stomach growled. Cocktail hour on an empty stomach was going to be tricky, but she had a few hours to figure it out.

Her clothing selection was the first thing she had put on her bed when she had slipped from the sheets, and as she pattered around in bare feet, the snug corset taunted her.

It was appropriate to wear aspects of ancient clothing traditions when confronting an ancient being. The corset was an evergreen.

A little exploration turned up a fridge stocked with alcohol and soda. She opted for the sugar and turned to take stock of the room.

The rush of magic in her vicinity came a moment before the tray of sandwiches and fruit arrived. After them, a pot of coffee and accessories appeared on the bar counter.

Sighing with relief, she tucked in and worked her way through the food. She hadn’t had anything since the reception the night before and magic burned a lot of energy.

When she had eaten and had the blessed coffee, she got dressed in a billowing silk dress and the corset. After she had closed the busk and laced the corset into place, she adjusted it and tightened the laces again. She folded the skirt into even pleats around her, and the black fabric contrasted with the gold embroidery on the black corset. She and her considerable assets were now encased and displayed.

Time for makeup.

With an evening of socializing ahead of her, she paid special attention to fixing her makeup in place. When she was done with the final touches, she looked into the mirror and placed the mage mark on her cheek so that those she spoke to would not take her for helpless. When you were the only human in a room full of extranaturals, you had to make it plain that you weren’t a target.

By the time she stepped into her shoes, it was six fifteen. She walked out onto the balcony and stared into the mountain range. It was a good place to meditate, and when her phone chirped again, she snapped out of her reverie and headed to the elevator.

She did not know how many petitioners would be at the party, but she had agreed to do the talking, so she pressed the button.

To her surprise, it arrived right away and swept her to the main floor in decorous style.

As she looked out into the lobby with faces turned to see who was emerging, she fixed her dignified expression in place and stepped onto the polished stone.
Showtime.

Minerva was stopped before she had gone three feet. She turned her head, and the elf who was sliding his arm around her froze in his tracks.

She looked at him coldly. “Do I know you?”

He pulled his hand back. “No, Mage. Pardon. I had no idea who you were.”

She inclined her head. “Prince Ekrodian, your judgment is usually not so poor.”

He blinked and his rainbow eyes widened. “Have we met?”

“Only once. Corudet City.”

His porcelain skin flushed, and he looked from side to side. “Did you...”

“I did nothing. I was not there to observe; I was there to help a friend.” She smiled tightly. “I did and got the fuck out of there.”

“May I ask your name?”

“You may. I am Minerva.”

“Thank you for your kindness and discretion, Minerva. May I get you a drink?”

She mentally rolled her eyes. “I will get it myself. I will need to leave the elevator entrance eventually.”

He nodded. “I will accompany you.”

She moved past him and swept to the bar. The bartender moved with the grace of a shifter and came up to her with a smile. “What can I get for you, magnificent mage?”

She smirked. “A shot of peach schnapps and pineapple juice over ice, please.”

The man moved with dexterity and flipped the bottles around until the curved glass was filled, and he then propped a cherry on top.

She laughed. “That is optimistic.”

He grinned and a cackle came from his lips. She recognized the call. He was a raptor of some type. There must be an aerie community nearby.

“Thank you, kind sir.”

He gave it to her with a flourish.

Minerva smiled and went to mingle with the rest of the petitioners. Even humans were represented, which was rather brave of them.

She wandered over to the humans who were huddled around with their glasses clutched in their hands. Word of Zemuel’s preferences had obviously gotten around, but based on the women who were dressed to seduce, they had missed a memo. The women were both tiny and frail.

Even the elf from earlier had been tall.

The leader of the group asked her, “Excuse me, Madam, but are you human?”

She quirked a smile and sipped at her drink. “Yup.”

The entire party relaxed.

She heard about the new road they wanted to build and what the girls were willing to do to get it.

She sighed. “Does anyone in your party have entertainment skills? Zemuel has a tendency to ask for folk to humiliate themselves in order to get an audience.”

The leader stiffened his spine. “We can do that. What will he ask?”

“The lot is drawn by his assistant. The exhibitions are inside the bag. It is ostensibly random.” She was about to tell them more but a wall opened and a throne room was exposed.

Her sense of time was skewed without seeing the sun, but if the door was opening, she would walk through it. The humans were on one side of her and the elves on the other. The additional races moved toward the doorway as one, but Minerva hung back.