Magic's Design (43 page)

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Authors: Cat Adams

BOOK: Magic's Design
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The question was a good one, but he didn’t have an answer. “But it’s …”
She smiled then, and it was filled with hope and something that tied his stomach in knots and made his heart beat faster. “Who
says
the spirit doesn’t exist? Who says it, or he or she didn’t create
both
the Parask and the other Guilders in a sort of check and balance, to teach humility and cooperation? Conjurers can make magic from life energy but can’t use it … you can use it, but not create it. I mean, I was raised to believe in another God, but the principle isn’t all that different—we’re all the same, yet all unique, so be nice to each other because we all have to live together and depend on one another.” She leaned in and kissed him gently on the cheek. “I don’t think I proved your spirit doesn’t exist, Tal. I think I proved it
does.
” She winked and let go of his hand. “Now, I’m going to run down and get my kistka while you mull that over. Then I’ll do your mark if you want me to, and think you can
trust me
to do it. If not, then you know where the spare room is. I’ll just go to bed and we’ll see how we’re both feeling in the morning.”
He stood there, blinking like an idiot as she walked out, trying to wrap his head around the concepts she’d raised. Was this why Alexy had seemed so excited when he’d learned of Mila’s healing? Could his friend’s faith have made the leap to the logic … the leap he himself hadn’t until this moment? Because she was right. Someone or
something
had given her people the gift of creating magic. Why not the Tree spirit? For they were called home to Agathia, too. It was only the other Guilders who pushed them away in arrogance and fear. Could it be that the guild priests who had later become Tree gatherers had done it intentionally? What had crafters believed in before the Trees? Was it the same God that Mila did? They lived and loved among one another once. after all.
What was it King Mumbai had said to Dareen—that Stella forcibly opened his eyes to see the whole truth? “What a good queen
should
do.”
“I’m sorry …
what?
” Mila had come back in the room, carrying a well worn red kistka. paint flaking off beneath the blackened metal tip.
He shook his head and smiled. “Just remembering some good advice.” He grabbed her arm before she made it past him and kissed her gently on the lips. “Thank you for helping me see past my blindness.”
She smiled and licked her lips, as though reaching for the last taste of something sweet. “We all have blind spots. Sometimes what it takes is a little outside perspective. Are you better now, or should I just put this stuff away?”
He nodded and realized that everything in the room seemed a little brighter, as though a dark filter had been lifted from the colors. His heart was beating not just faster, but stronger. “Yes, I think I’m better now. Better than I’ve been in a very long time.” He looked at his mark and while he felt the fear beginning to creep in once more, it was softened … tempered by something.
Trust.
Her skill was undeniable and her instincts sound. He could do far worse than to have her mend him, and now couldn’t imagine any harm befalling him. “I’ve still no idea if this will work, but I do trust you.” Another smile that reflected the sensation that was growing in his chest. “How could I
not
trust the woman I seem to have fallen in love with?”
Again those wide green eyes and dropped jaw that made her mouth look so kissable. So he did. It was worth being stabbed by the sharp metal in his ribs as he took her into his arms and tasted the sweet fire of her mouth. He rained kisses from her mouth to her ear and then to the curve of her shoulder while cupping her breast and flicking a thumb against her hard tight nipple. He wanted to lick that nipple again, pull on it, bite it and hear her moan and grow wet and ready for him.
She went limp and pliant in his arms. He let out a small, possessive growl and slid his teeth along the pulse in her neck, which was quickening wickedly, throbbing in time to the urgent pressure of his cock. “The only question is whether I can stand to wait to be inside you again until after you do your crafting.”
She shivered hard enough to raise bumps on her skin and let out a nervous chuckle. “I might forget how if I don’t do it now. I seem to lose my mind every time you touch me.”
He leaned back just slightly, inches from her face, and let his lower lip slide across hers while he continued to tease her breasts. “I like that,” he whispered. “I like that I drive you mad. You drive me nearly beyond my limit of restraint.”
She stared at him strongly, her eyes intense enough he couldn’t help but look. “I love you, too.” She touched her lips to his softly and ran a slow hand across the swelling in his crotch, weakening his knees. “It doesn’t make any sense, but I do. And I swear I won’t do anything to hurt you. I’ll make you
better.”
He pulled her hand away from him before he couldn’t turn back from the need and released her breast with a final pinch that pulled a gasp from her. “You already have.”
Once he got used to the sensation of the hot wax on his skin, it wasn’t too bad. The trick was that they had both gotten so aroused that it was difficult to make the wax
cool
enough to be a barrier for the dye. Finally Mila resorted to going downstairs and retrieving a tray of ice cubes. After that, it was no trouble at all to finish her crafting. She dipped the funnel of the kistka right in the scented candles on the dresser and shrugged when he raised brows. “They’re beeswax, and I didn’t feel like hauling up that huge block in the studio.”
He wanted to say that it felt amazing or that magic filled the air. But it just looked like yellow dye, his mark darker for the intense brightness of it, so when she asked, “Feel anything?” he could only shrug.
“Nothing at all, other than my arm’s cold. And what are you doing now?” She had moved the kistka to a new spot, just below his guild mark.
“Oh, nothing. I just thought I’d do a couple more pictures while I was here and in the mood. This one will be an oak leaf, which is the pysanka symbol of spiritual strength—in case you ever feel lost again.” It was done in seconds, before he could really react—her hand moving swift and sure now that she’d figured out how to make the drawings on skin. “And this one is our symbol—the Parask road, so evil gets lost and can never reach your soul.”
“Not, of course, as any sort of reminder of you?” he said dryly, which made her smile.
“Of course not. But it is sort of common—artist’s license. Call it a signature of my work.” With a chuckle, she blew out both candles, apparently done with her crafting.
By the time she rubbed off the wax to reveal the bright yellow markings, he was laughing along with her. It didn’t last long, though. Not after she turned those wide eyes to him again and parted those luscious lips a tiny bit. He leaned in and kissed her again, moving his jaw against hers until he heard the kistka clatter to the wooden floor. Then it was just a matter of pulling her off the rolling desk chair she was sitting on into his lap. The weight against his sudden erection made him moan and shift until he found a spot that wasn’t so sensitive. He pulled back and pushed back a long curled black hair that had fallen across her eye. “I think it’s time for bed.”
He reveled in the way she squirmed as he slowly unbuttoned her blouse, kissing his way down her chest with each bit of skin that was revealed. She kicked off the light slip-on shoes she wore—much better than the heavy boots that required unlacing. She helped things along by standing up to pull off her pants and underwear. “I’d do it slow, but my poor body’s just about worn out. I don’t want to waste what energy I have left.”
He couldn’t argue, since he felt the same. So he just smiled and followed suit. She reached for his erection after he was fully nude and his brain stopped trying to think. Slowly she stroked him until every inch in his body was screaming for release. He heard the ripping of plastic and then a new, wet sensation over the sensitive nerves. His eyes opened and he saw that she’d found the box of condoms he’d bought on his way here and had put one on.
Mila smirked and tickled the hairs on his legs, which nearly made him drop. “Pretty brazen to buy some on the way, when you thought I was mad at you.”
His tongue flicked out over his dry lips. “Hope springs eternal.” She rose to her feet and took his hand, pulling gently toward the thickly piled bed and turned off the light. When he followed her under the covers it was like sinking into a cloud, buoyed in a way that made him feel like there was nothing above or below them. “What sort of bed is this?”
“Down mattress. But they don’t make them anymore.” She stifled any more questions with her mouth over his and then she pulled him over on top of her.
There was no question of her readiness. She was so wet and swollen that he nearly fell inside her. And then there were only sounds and sensations as the need rode them both.
Tal felt her body tighten around him just as his own climax found him and then they were locked together, cries reaching ears that could barely hear. But then he felt a burning sensation in his forearm that grew in intensity the longer he erupted inside her. Moments later, his other arm began to burn until his cries were a completely different variety. He struggled to pull his arms from under her to see what was wrong but by the time he could, the pain had dimmed to nearly nothing.
“What’s wrong?” Her voice was still breathless with pleasure, but she sensed all wasn’t well with him.
“Something stung my arm.” He rolled off and turned on the lamp. She leaned over the top of them and both of them just stared. The astonishment he felt was mirrored on her face at the image on his arm. The yellow dye was gone. In its place was a new mark, darker than it had ever been and whole—unbroken and still glowing slightly.
“Wow. The other arm, too!” Mila stared at her own hands like they were some sort of weapon that had discharged without her knowledge. But she was right. The oak leaf and Parask symbol had burrowed into his skin, raised a welt that was now skin instead of ink. He didn’t think it would be going away anytime soon.
She bit at her lower lip. “Can you still do magic? Can you light the candles?”
She’d taken off his focus glove—wonderfully slowly with her teeth, and it was still buried somewhere beneath the sheets. But he didn’t need it for this. He flicked his finger, like always, but what erupted from the candle was a blast of blue-white flame that nearly reached the ceiling.
Mila let out a shriek and pulled the blanket up to shield her bare skin from the heat. He immediately put out the flame, but his heart was pounding like a hammer against a forge when he did it. His voice sounded a little hollow and more than a little shaky when he spoke. “I’d say you fixed my mark.”
She nodded, her head moving slowly at first and then speeding up until she was bobbing. “Uh, yeah. You could say that. But is it a good thing or a bad thing?”
“That is the question.”
That was most
definitely
the question.
 
M
ila walked into the party, a tense smile painted on her face. She tried desperately to make it seem like she was just distracted with making sure the party ran well, but it was a lie.
Oh, she was distracted all right, but not because of the details. Every pysanka she and Candy had spotted were now
gone.
She’d felt her heart in her throat when she’d taken Tal to the first location in Candy’s notes and discovered it missing. By the time they’d reached the sixth hiding place on the list and found it empty, her heart was no longer in her throat, but sitting like lead in her stomach.
“Mila! Glad I finally found you.” She turned to see Rick and his wife Lydia entering the room, dressed to the nines. She broadened her smile until her lips felt like they would rip, but her jaws were clenched tight. God! She
knew
these people. They were her friends, her colleagues. She couldn’t just watch them burn to death in an explosion of lava!
Lydia touched her dress. “That is so
lovely
on you, Mila—and I must say you’ve done a terrific job with this party. Rick’s told me all about the weird things the other partners wanted to add, and I know how frustrating it must have been to try to please everyone.” Lydia was being kind about the purple-and-black sequined dress. Yes, it was pretty and, in fact, her favorite party dress. But it was not in the same league as the designer originals being worn by some of the other women and Mila knew it.
“Thanks, guys. So, you’re probably just here for a few minutes before you jet off to the next party, huh?” Lord, she hoped so. She’d worked with Rick too long, and knew all his kids. They deserved to have their father for a lot longer.
But Rick shook his head. “Nope. Just one party this year. We decided after last year’s blizzard that stuck us on I-70 for two hours that making the rounds was just asking for trouble. We even rented a room here so we don’t have to brave the traffic until tomorrow morning.”
Mila fought with every breath not to break down and cry. But then a voice hissed in her ear and the tears disappeared, to be replaced by a rush of adrenaline. “Mila, dear. We need to talk.
Now.
”
Tal put a hand on her lower back and started to guide her away. But it wasn’t that easy. She skidded to a stop which made him have to turn to see why. “Tal, this is my
boss
, Rick Myers, and his wife Lydia. Rick, Lydia, Talos Onan.” She started to attach a relationship to him, to explain why she’d brought him, but it was sort of obvious. He was her New Year’s date, and looked good enough to eat in dark slacks, a fawn turtleneck, and sports coat that matched the pants. It had taken a frantic trip to the mall before they closed in order to find him something suitable. But it was worth it. If this was any other New Year’s party, she’d already have dragged him to a dark corner to start the midnight kisses early.
But since it was instead the New Year’s from hell, all she could do was admire him from afar until they could stop hell from arriving.
“A pleasure, folks. Mila’s said some wonderful things about you, but I
really
need to take her away for a few minutes. It’s a bit of a … crisis.” The way he said it made her believe him and she turned wide eyes to him.
Rick noticed it, too. He always was good at reading body language and voice intonations. His face sobered, turned serious. “Of course. Go. We’ll cover for you, Mila. I hope everything’s okay.”
She hurried away with him, trying to seem somewhat casual as they wove through the arriving guests.
“Hi, Mila! Glad you could make it.” Rachel waved and motioned her over to the small group of other support staff.
She called words over her shoulder as she sped past. “Be right back. Have to take care of something.”
Thankfully, nobody asked questions since they all knew she was the planner. Stop the party planner and you might stop the party.
When they finally made it to a quiet corner near a waterfall near the front window, she grabbed his arm and stopped to catch her breath. “What’s the crisis?” He looked devastated and seemed to be trying to find the words. “Just tell me, Tal.”
He took a deep breath and let it out slow, then put a hand on her shoulder. “Alexy and Kris showed up a few minutes ago, wanting to help. They covered my tracks in Vril and then gated in through the library. I sent them to start searching the hotel, looking for either Vegre’s or Sela’s magic signature, or any sign of the pysanky. But they’re all gone.”
“Do you think they’ve found out about the ones at the house? I
knew
we should have brought them along to guard them.”
“
Thank you
—” The pleased musical tones drifted down to them. She and Tal looked up to see Sela, dressed in a shimmering silver gown and sparkling diamonds, leaning over the balcony above them. “Just what I needed to know. I knew you weren’t nearly as tough … or
smart
as your grandmother, Mila.”
“What do you mean, as
tough
as my grandmother?”
Tal tugged at her arm, trying to pull her away, which didn’t make any sense. Why wasn’t he racing up the stairs to capture her? She looked back and forth between them. Sela was acting too smug, and Tal seemed suddenly uncomfortable.
“Talk to me, Tal. What’s happening?”
“Go ahead, Tal,” Sela’s voice taunted. “Feel free to tell her. We got what we needed. Or would you rather
I
told her? I
really
want her to know, and I’m sure your version would be … kinder.”
Mila stared at him, fingers digging into his arm—willing him to be honest. He glared up at Sela with a look that should be able to kill, and might have killed her in another place that wasn’t so public. “I didn’t plan to tell you, so you wouldn’t worry. We did search the basement, Mila, like I said. We didn’t find any pysanky, but we found something else instead. We found …” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly while Sela leaned on the railing, enjoying herself as thoroughly as if she was watching a movie. “We found your grandmother locked in the furnace room. She’s … not in good shape. She’s been beaten and tortured with magic.”
It was a good thing she was holding his arm or she would have fallen to the ground. But when he felt her legs start to go, he grabbed her arm tightly and lowered her to the bench that surrounded the waterfall. “Baba? But …
why?
” She looked up at Sela, unsure whether to plead or scream. “Why?”
Sela shrugged, as though torture was no big thing. Mila had never
hated
a person in her life until that moment, but it was all she could feel for the woman who had once shared her home. “Because she had information we needed.”
“But you didn’t get it.” There was a cold satisfaction in Tal’s voice. “She told us that you got
nothing
from her. She told us instead. We already know how to stop you.”
Sela was suddenly beneath Mila’s notice. She could call her all the names in the world, or go up and kick the shit out of her, but it wouldn’t change what was already done. The only thing she could think of was her grandmother. She could feel the pain flow through her as she thought about her, and knew it wasn’t just her imagination. She grabbed his arm and pulled him toward her. “To hell with the party. To hell with Vegre and Sela and to hell with Denver. Take me to her, Tal. I can heal her and we’ll forget all of this ever happened.”
He shook his head and despite her panic, she couldn’t help but feel comforted by his look of sympathy. “I can’t do that, Mila. I promised Nadia I wouldn’t tell you where she was taken.”
“
What?!
Why would you do that? Why would
she
do that? Tal, she’s my grandmother. I have to help her.” She stood up, not even certain where to look. But she
had
to look.
Tal grabbed her jaw, forced her face to turn to him. “Mila, you made me see my own blindness. Now I have to help you through yours. This is
exactly
what they want.” He pointed up at where Sela still watched them, arms crossed and looking supremely amused. “Look at her! They want you confused, and distraught … so you can’t think. That’s why Nadia wanted to go, so you could concentrate. Listen to me—our healers will do everything they can for her.
Everything.
With the Tree in Vril back up there’s enough power to take care of almost anything they could have done. But
you’re
needed here. You’re the only one who can figure this mess out. I need your mind here with me, Mila.” He searched her face and she knew her tears were getting his sleeves wet. He pointed out to the lobby with his other hand. “I
need
you if all those people are going to live through the night. We can figure this out together. But only if you don’t react to this. Don’t let them win.”
There must have been an incredulous look on her face if it matched what she was feeling. “You must be
joking
. How can I not react to this? I already want to launch myself at that bitch … beat her head into the floor until she stops moving.”
Sela’s voice was calm and amused. “Even if you could … which you couldn’t, I’ll have you kicked out of the hotel or even better, tossed in jail. I would right now if there weren’t so many lawyers around. Remember that you’re not the one in power here. We are. And we’ll be in power for the rest of eternity, so get used to it.” She wiggled her fingers over her shoulder. “Tah. I need to get back to the house before the party starts.”
There was no way to reach her in time to keep her from leaving, and Tal blasting her with magic would only serve to bring the others. No doubt there were Children scattered among the guests, and Mila had already spotted Tal’s mother posing as a server. That’s when it occurred to her that he was fighting his own battle with worry and anger. If he could remain focused, then so could she. Sela and Vegre must have wanted information about eggs, and she just bet that Sela was going back to search for more … maybe they hoped Baba could provide the names of the artists who delivered the eggs to her. “Don’t you want to know about the security system, Sela?” She made her voice taunting. Tal stiffened beside her and looked at her as though insane for mentioning it.
The metallic rustle from above paused and she waited, offering Tal an open palm lightly moving in the air. She gave him a confident look, and got a worried
I hope you know what you’re doing
one in return.
“
What
security system?” Sela’s head had poked back over the rail. “I don’t believe you.”
She shrugged. She’d lived with Sela long enough to know what tripped her triggers. Curiosity was one of her weaknesses. “Then don’t. But Bryan installed it yesterday. Doors, windows, motion sensors, plus silent
and
onsite alarms. The works. And you
know
how often the cops drive through our neighborhood.” She did know, because she’d been the one to mention it. At the time, Mila had thought it mere curiosity on her part, but now she knew that the noticing was born of guilt and fear. Who knew how many O.P.A. agents were also overworld cops? It sure would be handy for the agency. “Oh, and did I mention the double-keyed dead bolt on
your
room?” She tapped her chin with one finger and appeared to think. “Hmm … can you find the pysanky before the police get there? See, I already had Jeff tell them that I kicked you out for stealing and that you or your friends might be back.” Actually, that part was a lie, but she
should
have, and Sela would probably believe she’d think of it. She knew both Jeff and Bryan … knew that Bryan worked for one of the big two security companies and how close Jeff still was to his buddies at the station.
Her eyes narrowed and she let out a small growl that was barely audible over the sound of the party. “Tell me the code, or I swear I’ll come down there and rip it out of you. I can, you know.”
Mila spread out her hands helplessly. “I don’t doubt you can. But I don’t know it. I’m not the one who set the system.
Tal
did.” She flicked her eyes over to him. He was smiling darkly now, one brow raised as he stared at his onetime partner, arms crossed over his chest. The dark suit made him look every inch a mage, and a cop. Yummy. “Somehow I doubt you’ll get it out of
him.
What do you think?”
She believed, and her face twisted, turning her careful makeup into a mask, a part dy of the elegant lady she wanted to be.
“Fitch.”
Mila stuck out her tongue. Yes, it was childish, but she felt like doing something immature at this moment.
“Witch.
You’d better hurry, too. There are agents all over the hotel, just waiting to tighten the noose on you and Vegre …
Mrs. Pierce.”
Part truth, part bluff. Would Sela know which was which? Her former friend’s head moved almost involuntarily, eyes searching the crowd. Looking for a familiar face, perhaps? Then the eyes widened and her hands tightened to white on the rail. Mila followed her gaze and spotted Alexy just stepping off the internal elevator from the basement. What incredible timing! He, too, was dressed in a suit, his blond hair carefully styled. He looked quite elegant and perfectly at home in the hotel.

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