The Spark of a Feudling (19 page)

Christian knew, when he returned to Adlington and Ada was not there, that he would not have the willpower to tell Richard no if the duke came for him. In fact, a part of him craved it — so much so that he sought the man out. The pain was agony, but the power was something he had dreamed of his entire life. In fact, there was only one thing he craved more.

Ada.

“I believe my daughter wishes I stop training you,” Richard said when Christian appeared in the doorway of his study. The man looked like death was mere steps away; like he hadn't slept or eaten for days.

“Ada need not know.” Christian winced, realizing how awful the words sounded.

Richard raised an eyebrow. “I love my daughter very much. And she will leave me soon. I would rather not spend these last moments in anger.” Steepling his fingers under his chin, he watched Christian with interest as if to say,
your move.

Christian's heart pounded and his palms began to sweat in desperation. “But we aren't through — there are still more spells, more tests—”

Richard pushed away from his desk, circling around to come next to Christian. “This training isn't doing anything for me, Mr. Buttercroft. You make an excellent guard, and one of my best assassins. But it isn't worth the silent glares I'm getting from my daughter.” He shrugged carelessly. “It, sadly, isn't worth my time.”

Christian started to shake. He needed those tests, that power, those spells. “What if I could make it worth your time?”

Richard glanced at him with barely veiled disinterest. “And how, my boy, would you do that?”

“You aren't the only one who can invent spells, Your Grace.”

Richard went back to his desk, settling into his chair. He fixed Christian with his cold blue gaze, which surprisingly, contained no surprise. Christian frowned, feeling as though he'd been played. “And what spell did you invent?”

“A spell that can open a doorway between two casters. I can teach you.
If
you continue my training.”

Richard's face split into a slow grin. “I suppose you are right. Ada need not know.”

****

Christian found himself stumbling across the courtyard for home in the middle of the night. A storm raged around him, something that seemed to be a common occurrence when he trained with Richard. His head pounded so steadily it seemed to almost be the sound of hooves, giant, terrifying hooves racing up the drive to the manor. He turned in confusion, gripping his head, and realized it
was
the sound of hooves pounding up the drive, attached to a horse demon with a child clinging to its back. He stumbled back into the shadows as it raced toward him, and then past him, and only when it paused at the barn and the child slid from its back did he see the shock of red and black hair.

Ada.

He ran toward her, but the demon horse whirled, snapping at him, front feet kicking viciously. “Maiden. He's a friend.” Ada laid a hand on the giant's neck and it quieted, but a low rumble reverberated in its chest. Was the beast growling?

“What is that thing?” He gasped from several feet away.

She smirked bitterly. “Call her a wedding present. Her name is Maiden.”

“And… what are you doing here?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. Thunder cracked around them and she glanced at the sky.

“Currently, I'm standing in a storm from the underworld, talking to you. Follow me inside while I rub her down.”

He followed at a safe distance. The beast went with her at a touch of Ada's hand — no rope, no lead. She rubbed Maiden dry, shoveled in fresh hay, and then brushed and curried her and gave her oats and water. All while soaking wet, in a torn, muddy silk dress. Or what was left of it.

He had a very hard time keeping his eyes on her face.

“What happened, Ada?”

“William was found kissing his maid. At our engagement party. By me.” She shoveled another load of hay, jamming the pitchfork viciously. It was a wonder she hadn't lit the entire bale on fire yet.

He backed away several more feet.

“Ada, that… is common, you realize. In the aristocracy.”

“He said he
loved me
,” she panted, attacking the hay. “And he kissed her at our engagement party. If that doesn't—” more angry panting, “—say love, I don't know what does.”

Christian struggled to rein in the angry flames. Ada was hurting. She'd been there for him at his darkest. He could control himself now. He stepped forward, took the pitchfork, wrestling it from her hands. “Ada, stop. Listen to me.”

She dropped the pitchfork and looked at him, exhausted, hopeless, sad. It broke his heart, what was left of it. He stroked her cheek with the back of his knuckle. “He is a fool to throw away a chance with you. He does not know the pain of losing you, but I do. I can tell you, Ada, it will be his biggest regret.”

She sobbed once, and suddenly she was kissing him, sliding her arms around his neck and clinging to him like he was the only thing real in the world. Her entire body trembled against him as she cried against his mouth. He knew he should not kiss her back. He knew he would be taking advantage of her pain, but the other side of him roared to life and took control before he could even taste the sweetness of her lips. And that side, that side would push her too far.

****

Ada curled in her bed, tears still staining her cheeks. What had she done? She had given too much to Christian, more than she had been willing to give. Any hope she'd had that he might still be
her
Christian was gone. He was not the boy she had loved. The boy she had loved would never have done this to her.

“Ada?” Richard's voice slid through the darkness, and had she any energy left she would have jumped, but there was none left. She could not muster enough strength to be surprised. Her father never came to her chambers. “Are you quite alright, dear?” Light crept into the room as he pushed the door open further and held his candle high.

She could not tell him what had happened. He would kill Christian, and while he had hurt her, she knew he wasn't in his right mind. She could not go near him again, but he did not deserve to die. Instead, she would tell him her other pain. “I cannot marry Mr. Langley.”

She heard his sharp intake of breath and he moved into the room. “Why not?”

“He kissed another girl at our engagement party.”

The bed sank and she slid toward him as Richard sat on the edge. “This match could mean powerful things for our family, Ada.”

“I don't care.” Power? He was thinking about power now? Fresh tears seeped from her eyes and she scrubbed at them with her fist.

“I… see that we have a new horse in the stables.”

“She is mine. And I would advise staying away from her if you like your fingers attached to your hand.” She sniffed.

He chuckled and rose to his feet. “Ah, Governess Buttercroft. Perhaps you can help her rest?” Ada hadn't even heard her governess enter the room, but now she glided through the shadows, laying a cool hand on Ada's forehead. Every other sorcerer Ada had ever touched was warm, but Scarlett never was. Ada cried harder.

“Shhh, child. It will be okay. Give me your pain.” Ada felt herself slipping into sleep almost immediately. She fought for a few minutes, but sleep offered comfort and darkness. In the end she let go and welcomed the escape.

****

She refused to leave her room for over a week. She stayed in the darkness, only allowing Charity to enter. Vivian tried, once, but when it was clear she was only there to berate Ada for scandalizing their entire family yet again, Ada knocked her backward with a ward and followed with a wall of fire. Vivian stayed away after that. Her father did not come after the very first day.

Even Charity became scarce as the week moved on to two. It had been nearly three days since Ada had seen her, in fact. Ada sat at the window, staring at the moon, when she heard a weird clawing at her door. “What in heaven's name?” Ada muttered, whirling to stare hard as if the door would answer her. It did not.

When the scratching came again, she pushed away from the window seat and crossed the room. As she came closer to the door, she could also hear odd little sobs. Her heart grew cold and she wrenched the door open, meeting a sight she had expected but prayed never to see again.

Charity's eyes glowed dully and her hands were bloody from clawing at the door. “Help. Ada? Please help.”

Ada didn't hesitate. She scooped Charity into her arms and fled down the hallway to the stairs, sprinting down the two floors, and raced out the door. She flung it open and sprinted awkwardly, as Charity was taller than she was, across the courtyard to the cottage. She didn't bother knocking but shoved the door open. “Scarlett!” she screamed.

Christian arrived first, shirtless, his hair rumpled and his eyes sleep-swollen. Still her Christian, but the sight of him filled her with sadness and fear. She turned her back on him as Scarlett came in. “No. No no no no.” Scarlett took Charity from Ada and hurried into the bedroom. Without a backward glance, Ada left, letting the door slam shut behind her.

Once outside, she let the flames explode from her hands. She marched back up the steps, flinging the heavy doors open. She stormed up the three flights of stairs, leaving a trail of fire burning the expensive rugs behind her. She would burn the entire manor to the ground, and she did not care.

She shoved the study door open with a wall of fire. Richard stumbled backward away from his desk, his gaunt face white. “Stay away from them,” she screamed. Fire leaped from her hands, and she felt the heat through her thin nightdress but she didn't care. “You leave them alone!”

Richard's face smoothed as if his only daughter was not trying to burn his home down with him in it. “I wondered when you would do something about it. Honestly, Ada, I expected so much more from you.”

Abruptly, the flames died. “What?” she asked dumbly. Behind her, smoke filled the hallway, as screams and shouts of alarm echoed through the manor.

“It was a test, Ada. To see how strong you really were. One you failed quite miserably, I'm afraid.” He clucked his tongue as he came around the desk.

“A t-test?”

“I didn't want to do it. Yes, the research was nice. I made many advancements. But I tired of the disappointment, waiting for you to stand up for those you called friends.”

Ada's throat closed and her heart felt frozen in her chest. It was all because of her? All their pain, their madness, he'd done because of her? If she'd stood up to him, she'd still have her Christian. Charity wouldn't be so sickly, so frightened…

“Little One, forgive me for this!”

Ada whirled just as Harrison threw a bucket of water on her, completely drenching her. She hadn't even realized that she'd been on fire.

And her father had stood there while she burned.

Charity found her, two days later, buried in her darkened room, not in her bed, but hiding in the corner behind the chair. Broken. Ada was broken.

“This is what he wants, you know,” Charity said softly. Ada raised her head with great effort, just discerning the glint of Charity's white hair in the darkness. She could not see her face, but was relieved that the silver eyes were not glowing.

“It is my fault. He was torturing you to test me. There were no advances to be made, Charity,” Ada whispered.

“He's lying.” Charity's voice was sharper than Ada had ever heard it.

“He's not, Charity—”

“He
is,
Ada.” Charity reached behind the chair and grabbed Ada's wrist, dragging her out. Ada half-crawled, half-hopped out of her nest, scrubbing at her eyes. Charity kindly waited until Ada was standing before she grabbed her shoulders and shook her. “If it was a test, Ada, why did he summon me again? If you passed this test, why is he still calling on Christian?” Charity's hands shook where they gripped Ada's shoulders, her nails digging through the thin fabric of Ada's gown.

“He—he came to you again?”

Charity nodded, tears cascading down her pale cheeks.

Ada felt the anger return, and anger was much preferable to guilt. “I will protect you, Charity. Whatever it takes, he will not hurt you again.”

****

The day was far too bright and cheerful when Ada's betrothed arrived at the estate. Christian had been expecting him; no one in their right mind let Ada go without a fight. Even so, he had assumed that William would show up amidst a fury of thunder and lightning. Christian was patrolling the grounds when he heard the carriages arriving. He watched from the shadows as the man he remembered from the ball — the man who had haunted his nightmares ever since, emerged from the carriage. His head was down; he looked beaten. Christian enjoyed that aspect, but nothing else. William was much taller than he, and Christian had heard through rumor that his family was very wealthy.

Christian fought hard to quench the anger, the anger that was always there, threatening to overtake him completely. Flames erupted despite his best efforts, and the spell seemed to burn itself in front of him. He shouldn't throw it. He should not attack.

He did not care.

He shoved the spell hard, watching as it cut through the sky, straight at William's back as his rival walked slowly up the wide front steps. A cruel smile split his face as adrenaline pulsed through his blood, fueling the flames. More spells bloomed in front of him as his hands acted of their own accord, but he did not stop them, laughter bubbling maniacally in his throat.

Out of nowhere, a small red and black blur darted between them, red fire blooming from her hands. Spells collided with his, and explosions rocked the ground. “Christian Buttercroft!” Ada screamed, marching toward him. Over her shoulder, William whirled, his jaw dropping.

“You have no idea how close to death you just were,” Christian growled, and then his eyes lit on Ada and he backed up, the blood freezing in his veins. He could see the anger burning in her eyes, her jaw clenched. She was such a tiny thing to have so much anger.

“You. Leave. Now.” She flung her hand toward the road beyond them, fingertips sparking.

“But I—” It was the first time he had seen her since the night she had returned, and this was not the reunion he'd planned.

“No. Go, Christian, before I ward you in and leave you here.” Her hands clenched and unclenched and her chest rose and fell as she gasped for furious breaths.

Dropping his head in defeat, he turned and marched to his horse, launching himself onto its back. Tugging on the reins, he spun and they raced through the forest.

Miles away, he finally stopped driving the horse relentlessly and let the reins fall. He took slow, deep breaths and stared at the sky, cursing the cheerful sun. He'd had her. She had been his mere days ago, until the madness had consumed him and he'd hurt her. He didn't remember exactly how he'd hurt, her, but he hoped it wasn't unforgiveable. And now this man returned to beg for her back and Christian wanted nothing more than to kill him with his bare hands. The blood lust was nearly overwhelming. Ada was his. She had always been his and she would always be his.

Somehow, rational thought penetrated his rage-obscured thoughts. She had said she would not marry him. Hope bloomed in his chest as he sat up. Grabbing up the reins, he turned his horse back to the manor.