Enchanter's Echo (2 page)

He leaned down, his grip softening in her hair though he didn’t relinquish his hold. He caught her lips with his. The renewal of their connection snapped through her, tempting her to give in to that hot thrill that was uniquely him. But she was too smart for that…too smart to let the whirl of heat rocketing beneath her skin take the lead.

He wrapped his arm low against her hips, pulling her to him. The feel of his body against hers was all it took. As if he’d cast another spell, she turned to molten steel. He was the mold. They fit with precision.

A good-bye kiss. That’s all this was. She hadn’t gotten one before…she was too smart to turn down this chance.

As she lifted her hands to his arms, he closed his eyes. She kept hers open, wanting all her senses awake to drink in this last kiss, this last memory to add to her collection. She breathed him in and clinched at the fine wool of his suit coat, slippery and smooth. She gave herself over to the claim of his mouth, his heat, soaking every detail into her mind.

“You missed me,” he whispered against her lips, then sealed their kiss tight again, stealing her chance to answer.

No. Not one bit.

Lie.

He pressed a kiss to the corner of her mouth, moving along the edge of her cheek. “Why? Why did you make that eye?”

“Why destroy it?” she countered, her voice a breathy whisper. He was bound to uphold the laws of the Republic, not violate them by destroying evidence.

“I’ve been searching the entire Republic for you since the moment you left. You weren’t here.”

No, she hadn’t been. Not then. Not for months afterward.

He shook his head, his cheek rubbed her temple. “I shouldn’t have quit checking. When I found the eye....” His soft words broke off as he brushed his lips against her ear.

Her breath caught, taking his scent deep inside her.

His teeth closed in a quick, gentle bite around her lobe. “I can’t catch you if you’re dead.”

Every muscle clenched, her fingers tightening around his arms, an involuntary response.
Catch me, and I am dead.

He lifted his head, tensing suddenly, as if he’d read her thoughts, but Edmund was not a mind mage. Beneath her touch, his muscles went rigid even as he loosened his hold and set her gently away.

If she thought he’d looked fierce before, he was vicious now. With his brow tight and his teeth clenched, he turned, as if his worst enemy had tapped him on the shoulder. But they were alone. She tilted her head away from the wind, straining to hear whatever she’d been too lusty to notice. Only the sounds of the forest and the city beyond reached her ear. No one approached unless another mage had a
see-me-not
charm. Considering the exorbitant price of the charms, that was unlikely in the Drainpipe, the second-rate neighborhood that included the junkyard.

He pushed off the heel of his expensive shoe and sprinted away, conquering the crisp weeds of the dormant field that separated the forest from the junkyard. From the angle of his head, he was staring at the newest trash tower that dominated the landscape, far off to his right.

What did he sense that she didn’t? She almost called out to ask, but whatever had him racing away was exactly what she needed.

She needed him to never return. With that thought, a sudden heaviness pulled at her.

Despite his speed and his distance, he looked back as if to say he’d do whatever he pleased, then he slipped his hand in his pocket. He disappeared just as a gang member rounded the tower he’d stared at. Another
see-me-not
charm must have waited inside his pocket. She shouldn’t have been surprised. Edmund could afford a treasure chest of them.

“You owe me.” He threw the whispered, panted words to her ear. She shivered beneath their touch. A blanket of heat wrapped around her with a graceful spell worthy of a first family—Edmund, warming her with his vibes. She brushed off his spell. With her lips still burning from his kiss, she needed to push him away however possible.

She stood there, unable to risk going into the forest without ensuring he was truly gone. His charm made it impossible to know. Long minutes passed. Finally, a silver car pulled onto the small, gravel road that led out of the junkyard, passing by her repair shop. Naturally, his car was a Donninger 7AF. She recognized it even from afar. After all, she’d helped design it.

Goddess, maybe she should have stayed in Noble Territory with old man Donninger. She could have played with enchanted metal—on the right side of the law—for the rest of her life.

But if she’d done that, Lily would be dead. No one else would have fixed her or any of the others. Aurora had done the right thing. She straightened, still certain of that. The wrong part was the law and the senators who’d created it centuries ago, despite the fact that one of their revolutionary war heroes was famous for his enchanted wooden teeth. Nowadays, that too was a direct violation of the Law of Natural Physique.

With Edmund out of sight, she gave a thorough glance at her surroundings. No one lurked nearby. Granted, she’d thought that the last time, too. Wary, she turned back to the forest. The enchanted vines and branches parted before her. She twisted through with a quick leap, and the spell snapped shut behind her.

The shakes set in the very next moment.

The Rallis heir had obtained evidence of her crimes and breezed past her first line of defense—the junkyard gang. Charged with keeping out trespassers from the junkyard and the forest beyond, the gang stopped anyone who ventured past the yard’s entrance without permission. They fought dirty and tough, but they couldn’t defend against
see-me-not
charms. Edmund had strolled in, right up to her second defense—her keep-out spell.

She stomped down the forest’s trail, berating herself as she went. What if he’d seen her open the keep-out spell? It was her job to protect her people, but she had no weapons other than hiding them.

“He gone?”

Aurora jumped at the unexpected but sweet voice.

Lily stuck her head around a tall maple, her dark curls hanging across her face. She pushed them away with her small hand, but they fell again. Another pink barrette likely littered the trail between here and the little girl’s home in the forest. Aurora scanned closely for the adorable imp’s current keeper. Tera dropped her spell. The young shielder mage was always practicing.

“He gonna come live with us?” Lily never left the forest…or at least she wasn’t supposed to. She was constantly seeking more people to add to their little band of misfits. Despite her big brown eyes and her long mop of shiny locks, this was easy to say no to.

Tera rolled her eyes. “No, Lil. Don’t be stup—silly.” The teen changed her word just in time at Aurora’s lifted eyebrow. “Goddess, Ror, who was that guy? I was too nervous to move.” The girl’s worry poured out in her volume.

“I’m glad you didn’t. He might have noticed.”

“Ha. Not likely. He was too busy kissing you.” Her naturally violet eyes twinkled beneath matching violet bangs, colored by a spell. Speculation sparkled across her face.

The girls had witnessed that kiss? Aurora’s cheeks tingled with heat, much as her lips still were.

“Is he your prince? Is he going to save us all?” Tera sighed with a wishful, dreamy smile.

Edmund would deny he was any kind of prince. But Aurora knew better. He had charm and suave on the outside and the backbone of a king within. Though he’d been drowning in his own problems when they first met not quite a year ago, his every action toward her had been thoughtful, kind…and passionate—a passion she’d shared to her very core.

At the memory, a tiny spark of hope glittered inside her, too stubborn for its own good, too stubborn to be defeated at the strong, powerful hands of the truth. Aurora knew exactly what would happen if the heir to Rallis discovered Tera’s metal ear and the skull plate hidden beneath her hair or Lily’s metal legs.

“That man would annihilate the entire forest in a blink. All of you.” Her tone sharp, she popped Tera’s dreamy, royal bubble without remorse. “You wouldn’t have time for regrets. That’s the only positive to him discovering us.” She had to look away, shutting off visions of that horrific fate. “He’d save me for last to halt his destruction and then he’d turn me over to the enforcers. Or worse, the army mages.” She swallowed hard. “He’s not our prince.” The heavy press of impossibility weighted down her heart.

Tera wrinkled her nose. “Halt his destruction? What is he?”

“Yeah, really.” Gwynevere Noble spoke from behind her. Aurora turned to see the forest’s entrance enclosing her best friend in its safe embrace. Gwyn’s fluffy blond hair bounced with a sensual grace around her chin as she strutted over. “What type of mage is he?”

Aurora frowned. It was like asking what a woman’s bra size was, or how big a man’s...no, she wasn’t going there.

Gwyn stepped past her to line up with Tera and Lily, making it three against one. “Oh, come on, Ror. Are you gonna keep secrets about the enemy?”

A rare burst of anger flamed to life beneath Aurora’s skin. “I’m keeping secrets? What about you?”

Gwyn brushed the questions aside. “The Rallises are the worst of all the families.” Naturally, she’d recognized Edmund. She stayed abreast of all the gossip about the Republic’s first families, including her own. Like the Rallises, the Nobles were a founding family, tracing their ancestors back to the Mayflower that had brought the first mages to the New World. Gwyn had run away from all that power and prestige. “That family is a bunch of greedy, vibe-hungry witches who always make sure they come out on top.”

Tera snickered at Gwyn’s description of the Rallises as witches and cupped her hands over little Lily’s ears, but the damage was done.

“What’s a witch?” Lily piped up.

“A bad word.” Tera put a finger to her lips. “Don’t say it or the Rallises will knock you flat.”

“With a kiss?” Sometimes Lily’s power of observation was inconvenient. This news would saturate the junkyard before the little girl’s bedtime.

Aurora’s cheeks burned anew.

“A kiss?” Gwyn asked in a stunned whisper.

Yes, a kiss. One she’d been waiting for and she hadn’t even realized it. A new memory she’d keep to herself, tucked in her heart. Aurora ignored Gwyn and tousled Lily’s hair. “All right, you. Get home to your supper. I can smell it from here.”

Lily stood her ground, as naturally as if her legs were flesh. “Daddy used to kiss me.”

Once again, Aurora found herself wishing she could soothe away the little girl’s grief. Her heart lurched at the unfairness of it all. There were days when she still couldn’t fathom it, even though she’d witnessed Lily’s tragedy herself. She crouched down, careful to listen in these moments.

“Two kisses. One here.” Lily pinched Aurora’s right cheek. “One here.” She pinched the left.

Except for her grandmother, Lily had lost her entire family in one of the bombings that had plagued the Republic. A terrorist group had almost toppled the entire government. They would have claimed Lily, too, if it hadn’t been for the fast thinking of her healer mage grandmother and Aurora’s talent. It was an act that had landed Aurora on the same side of the law as the terrorists…a wrong so wicked it stole her breath. But she grabbed it back. She needed to be strong for Lily.

“He was a very special daddy,” she offered.

“Will you make me a flower crown?” Lily’s young logic skipped to a new subject.

The trees rattled in the wind, as if they, too, wanted to see some flowers beneath their bony canopies, a reminder of spring and sunshine that the constant heavy gray clouds of winter seemed determined to make them forget.

“After supper.” Aurora straightened from her crouch. “You go on. I have to talk to Gwyn for a minute.”

For once, Lily cooperated, but Gwyn cut in front of the little girl, stopping her progress. A vibe violet had blossomed in the middle of the trail, likely a leftover from Edmund’s destruere spell. The weedy flowers bloomed in reaction to power on the dark end of the spectrum, embarrassing families across the Republic when the flowers popped up in the yard. In this part of the city, the flowers were a common, if shameful, sight since the Drainpipe was mostly populated with the dark.

Gwyn scuffed the ground with a violent kick. Ripped from its roots, the delicate plant toppled. Though its strong stem was severed, its silky purple petals remained in a proud blossom. The heel of Gwyn’s boot ended its brief reign. Aurora couldn’t stop her pained gasp.

Her friend rolled her eyes, her face hard. “Not everything deserves to live.”

Lily stepped forward and grabbed the smashed blossom.

“No. Leave it.” Gwyn’s correction didn’t stop her. Instead, the little girl held out the wilted flower like a gift to Aurora.

She bent down to take it. “Thank you. I love vibe violets. They have the softest petals.”

Gwyn huffed. “I know you mean well, but you’re teaching her all wrong. She’s going to go out into the big, bad world and think everything is all lovey dovey, but it’s not. Teach her now, or let her be crushed later.” The pain from a world that had done just that leant her eyes a dull sheen. Her power was nothing but a trifling, an embarrassment to her powerful family, and they’d nearly destroyed her spirit because of it.

Gwyn turned her gaze to Lily, still determined, but she pulled a short metal stick from her pocket, the size of a toothpick. The little girl’s eyes lit up at the sight of the cheap charm. She loved the fireworks spells almost as much as Gwyn did.

With a push of the little power she had, Gwyn ignited the spell. Yellow sparks fired to life two feet above the stick and formed a fiery daisy in the air. “Here, kid.” She held out the stick. “You hold it. Go show your Grammy before it runs out.” She ignored Aurora’s meaningful frown as Lily took the stick that guided the spell and scampered off. Tera raced after her. Aurora didn’t envy Tera’s assignment as the little girl’s caretaker, a tough task with Lily’s tendency to sneak off.

“Merida is not going to be happy about that,” Aurora said as the pair disappeared into the forest. Lily’s grandmother was not a fan of sparkler charms.

“Merida is a healer. If the kid gets hurt, she can presto her back to health. You’re the one I’m worried about. You haven’t smiled in a week. You’re puffing out glitter until we’re practically living in your fog. It’s all because of some stupid, sick woman who doesn’t even want our help. This is going too far. You need to stop.”