Elven Lies (Court of Rebellion #3)

3. Chapter 3

3

W ith her chest heaving, Rebecca glared across the room at the shifter and the Blackmoon Elf who couldn’t pull themselves together to save their own life.

If they kept this up, she wasn’t sure how much longer she could control herself before lives actually were on the line. Theirs.

All the bickering voices and snide comments cut out instantly, so the entire gathering in her office heard the zapping buzz of crimson battle magic flaring around Rebecca’s fist and the crackling sizzle of singed wood as a result. Then a feint metallic ping came from somewhere in the vicinity of the jammed-open desk drawer, followed by a soft thump and muted jingle.

She felt the light weight of something dropping onto the top of her boot before it clattered to the hardwood floor, but in the moment, it didn’t demand her immediate attention.

With everyone silent and staring at her again, each of them reining it in beneath their own varied expressions of embarrassment and chagrin, she took a deep breath and hoped it was enough to keep her voice steady. “First of all, I didn’t call you here to start an internal war at this table.”

Chair legs screeched across the wooden floor when Leonard shoved himself away from the table and stood. “Yeah, yeah… I get it. I’ll leave.”

Before she could think of a response, the mage stormed across her office, struggled to unlock the door before hauling it open, then stomped into the hallway and slammed the door shut behind him with a deafening bang.

Definitely not what she’d been going for, but fine. If Leonard thought it was best to remove himself from the conversation, she could give him that.

Maxwell, however, seemed to have a different idea of acceptable behavior. With a snarl, he started to rise from his chair, presumably to go after Leonard.

“Hannigan, it’s fine,” Rebecca muttered. The shifter paused to look at her, and she nodded. “Let him go.”

At first, it looked like he wanted to argue with her too, but then he dipped his head and lowered into his seat again with a muted snort.

She could talk to Leonard about all this later, if he thought he could handle it. For now, this briefing needed to draw to a close.

“Has everybody had a chance to take a deep breath?” she asked, glancing from one magical to the next. No one said a word. That was her cue to continue and wrap this up.

“I understand everyone’s concerns and reservations. I really do. And I know this is one of the most time-sensitive issues we’ve faced in a while. Believe me, I’ve weighed all the possible options, and at this point, I really do believe the best mode of action is for me to accept Harkennr’s invitation and have this in-person chat with him at his compound before anything else.

“At the very least, it gives me an opportunity to scope out the place. Even under a temporary truce. Maybe, if I’m lucky, I manage to confirm Nyx’s location. If she’s inside the old prison, great. We found her. If she’s not, that helps us narrow down where to turn next. I can get a decent read on the place before I even exchange two words with Harkennr, and right now, that’s likely the best advantage we could hope for.”

When her closing statement didn’t spark another volatile argument, and she even received a few slow nods in response, Rebecca figured she’d successfully made her point. Not that it mattered, one way or the other, when she’d already made up her mind. But at least this meeting had finally become what she’d hoped it would be. Or as close to it as they were going to get.

“Great.” Zida tossed both claw-like hands into the air before letting them drop back into her lap with staggered slaps. “The Roth-Da’al has spoken. Now the only question I have is why in the Blue Hells am I here?”

If the question had come from anyone else with the same level of attitude, Rebecca would have told them to go join Leonard in the hallway. But the healer was an entirely different breed, and Rebecca now had a perfect segue into the final purpose of this meeting.

She held Zida’s beady black gaze for a moment longer, then nodded. “Aldous made a mess of things in a lot of ways. I know we can all agree on that much.”

Bor’s next grunt earned him a scathing glare from Zida, which he pretended to ignore.

“One of those ways,” Rebecca continued, “was that he didn’t tell anyone what he was up to. Ever. Even when it endangered every other member of this task force. And that’s something I’m also trying to change. Sure, accepting Harkennr’s invitation might endanger Shade too, but it’s still the smartest option for now.

“Plus, for something like this, I want a group of magicals I trust to already know where I am and what I’m trying to do. Which also means, if something happens to me and this plan goes to shit, you’ll all know about that too. It’s more prep than we ever had when Aldous ran things.”

“The plans may fall apart,” Maxwell said, “but you will not be walking in there alone. I’m coming with you.”

At first, his declaration stunned her into a longer silence than she would have liked. Rebecca hadn’t factored Maxwell’s reaction into all this, but of course this was his response. Why hadn’t she seen this coming?

She turned toward him, achingly aware of that tingling energy flaring up between them as she did. Suddenly afraid of getting lost in the sensation and in her Head of Security’s glowing silver eyes, she stopped just short of meeting his gaze before lowering her voice for a quick, “You and I can discuss that later.”

Even without looking directly at him, she noted his deepening scowl. She would have noted it even with her eyes closed. She could feel it.

“What I’m trying to do here, first and foremost,” Rebecca continued, addressing the rest of the group again, “is not to repeat some of my predecessor’s worst mistakes. That’s why you’re here. Everyone in this room has proven their competence and reliability under pressure. If something were to happen to me, I have every confidence in this group’s ability as a single body to handle making the hard decisions in my absence. With Shade’s interests as a top priority.”

Then she looked directly at Bor and Zida sitting side by side. “True, you two aren’t field operatives, and I don’t expect that to change. But I trust your knowledge and experience, and I want you to be prepared with all the necessary details. Just in case.”

Bor raised his one bushy eyebrow, the other removed beneath the enormous scar stretching across his face. The expression looked enough like consent to satisfy Rebecca, and she even thought the old giveldi looked a little impressed.

Zida scoffed and shook her head before adding dryly, “Fantastic. Another council I didn’t volunteer for. Never thought I’d end up on one of those again.”

Bor’s snort sounded vaguely like a struggling chuckle. “Wisdom does come at a high cost. You of all folks know that.”

“Speak for yourself, you hunchbacked relic,” she snapped.

Twin smirks flashed across both old-worlders’ ancient lips.

Finally, smiling didn’t feel like so much of a chore.

“I didn’t have an official council in mind, necessarily,” Rebecca added, “but if that’s what you wanna call it, fine. Does anyone else have any useful comments to share?”

When Maxwell choked—or maybe forced a cough; Rebecca couldn’t quite tell—she fought back a laugh of her own.

The old-worlders kept their mouths shut, though Whit and Rick shook their heads.

“Okay.” Rebecca nodded. “Then that’s the end of this meeting. Just so you’re all aware, I’m leaving for Harkennr’s base today . If all goes well, I’ll be back today too. Then we’ll go from there. Thanks for your time.”

All four remaining magicals stared at her expectantly until Rebecca couldn’t help but roll her eyes. “Yeah, this is the part where you’re dismissed.”

Chairs screeched across the floor as they slid away from the table. Rick and Whit were the first two out the door after acknowledging their Roth-Da’al with a final nod and looking to Maxwell for any sign that he might have wanted something else from them afterward. Apparently, there was nothing else.

Bor and Zida helped each other up out of their chairs in their own brusque way before shuffling off together into the hall. No one bothered to close the door again behind them, for which Rebecca was instantly grateful.

Because now it was just her and Maxwell, alone, in her empty second-story office, and he wouldn’t stop staring at her.

Great. Just what she’d been trying to avoid.

But she didn’t tell him to stop, either.

In seconds, the weight of his intense gaze brought a hot flush to Rebecca’s face and neck. She hated herself for never being able to control that reaction, but she could force herself not to swipe at her face or push up the sleeves of her plain plum-purple shirt when it felt like someone had cranked up the heat in here by a deadly degree.

Then she couldn’t take the combination of his unflinching stare and the deafening silence any longer. “You did hear the part where I said dismissed, right?”

All she got for that was a deadpan stare.

With a sigh, she rolled her chair out from under the desk and stood.

“You have to know I won’t let you go in there on your own,” he said, standing with her, though whether to head her off or because protocol dictated he stand when the Roth-Da’al stood, she couldn’t tell.

“I feel like we’ve had this conversation before, Maxie.” Rebecca noticed her strident tone but couldn’t change it beneath the weight of her responsibility—of what she was about to do and the residual frustration from the way her meeting had almost erupted on itself.

“Oh yeah…” she added. “We were standing over an explosive casting circle beside a stage, and I told you you had to stay back because you’re the only one who can keep things running here without me, in case things didn’t turn out well for me. Remember that?”

Maxwell stared at her and said nothing.

She reached for the twin figurines at the edge of her desk. Their stone surfaces clinked together in her hand. “As far as I know, nothing’s changed.”

“Agreed,” Maxwell replied.

His response surprised her, and she froze, the figurines clinking against each other one more time in the silence when she released them in her jacket pocket. Then she turned toward her Head of Security and raised an eyebrow. “Wait, seriously?”

“Of course. So why should my answer now be any different than it was then?”

Crap.

He’d really figured out how to use her own improvisational logic against her, hadn’t he? And quickly, too.

The heat still rising in her face beneath his gaze grew almost unbearable until she forced herself to look away from him. “This time, though, I could just order you to stay behind and keep things running for me here. Officially.”

“If I didn’t know exactly what you were walking into, sure. But order me now, Roth-Da’al, when I know exactly what you face, and I will be forced to disobey that order. Officially.”

She snorted and rounded her desk. “You would never.”

But when she paused and her gaze flickered toward his face again, as if pulled by some invisible magnet stronger than her own will—and that was really saying something—what she found in her Head of Security’s expression almost made her question everything.

That combined with the growing warmth and intensifying tingle, the unignorable pull between him that strengthened simply by walking around her desk and putting less space between them, made her now feel quite literally breathless.

Maxwell’s gaze reflected nothing but open, honest concern. The same look he’d fixed her with when she’d been lying in one of Zida’s infirmary beds with a giant stake of wooden-target shrapnel through her belly. Or on a few other occasions, when he’d selected choice moments to warn her away from one very specific, newly inducted elf among Shade’s ranks named Rowan Blackmoon.

Maxwell was deadly serious.

If his expression hadn’t already confirmed it, his next words certainly would have.

“Knox, it was too dangerous the first time at that prison,” he said. “And we didn’t even make it inside the building.”

Rebecca scoffed, forcing more apathy than she felt. Because she did not want him there with her, and she couldn’t figure out why.

It wasn’t so she could keep protecting her secrets. Kordus Harkennr was a master of subterfuge and deception himself, but he never dealt in others’ hidden knowledge.

So why did letting Maxwell join her feel like such a horribly bad plan ?

“That was a completely different situation,” she replied and forced herself to move away from her desk and head toward the door. “Namely, the fact that you weren’t supposed to be there, setting off their breach alarm the way you did.”

“Again, I agree.”

Rebecca was about to thank him for that before reiterating her decision to make him stay behind, but she’d hardly taken two more steps across her office before her Head of Security swooped in and stepped in front of her to block her path.

Stopping tantalizingly close and dipping his head so far toward her, with only a mere few inches between them, that her unyielding flush tripled in heat and intensity.

The overwhelming urge to close those last few inches between them almost crippled Rebecca’s resolve.

“Last time was different,” Maxwell murmured, his breath fluttering across her face as the scent of dew-studded grass and cool moonlight and that gods-damned sandalwood overwhelmed her. “ You and I are…different.”

The way the words rumbled out of him nearly made her shiver. Somehow, despite the heat flaring through her body, Rebecca distinctly felt the goosebumps rise along her arms beneath her long-sleeved shirt as that dark, tingling pull beckoned her ever closer to him.

What did he mean by that? “ You and I are…different.”

Trapped in his gaze now, Rebecca still lifted her chin—the one defiant act of which she was still capable, because in that moment, every other part of her seemed to have already fallen under this obnoxious, deliciously inexplicable enchantment she couldn’t control and still couldn’t explain.

“And how, exactly, are you and I different?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

His silver eyes pulsed once with darker light when they flickered toward her lips.

Rebecca was certain her legs were about to give and surprised when they never did.

“We agreed to be a team that night,” he said. “To work together. And this time, we’ll be walking through the front door instead of sneaking around in the dark. Allegedly.”

Rebecca could hardly think anymore with him looming over her like this, standing so close, drowning out every thought of what she was supposed to do for this mission she’d approved for herself.

Then everything in her awareness was replaced by what she wanted to do, which stood right here in front of her…

Somehow, she still had the presence of mind and enough control of herself to ask, “Is that all?”

She could have imagined it, but it sure felt like Maxwell was moving even closer, leaning in. Her body erupted with that flaring heat again and the tingling presence of something else there between them—so strong now, it almost made her laugh.

“No.” Maxwell’s response dropped into another growl. “This time, I won’t try to stop you. Assuming, of course, that you don’t keep fighting me on this.”

By the Blood, she didn’t want to fight him at all. More than anything, Rebecca wanted to give in to whatever this was tugging at her core and leading her ever closer toward the shifter who just couldn’t let anything go when he set his mind to it. Right now especially, he seemed to have set his mind on taunting her.

Had he been responsible for making her feel this way about him all along? Had he been controlling her, somehow?

It seemed more than possible at first, until Maxwell’s lips parted and a shuddering exhale escaped them.

That was when she realized she’d been staring at his lips and that her Head of Security had no more control over this, whatever it was, than she did.

And Rebecca wasn’t responsible for it.

That awareness had no effect on what her body wanted, or on the next wave of goosebumps rising across her flesh beneath the still-growing heat, or of how, even with him standing so dangerously close, every physical cell within her screamed that it still wasn’t close enough.

No, Maxwell wasn’t in control of this thing. He was victim to it just as much as she was, and even that surprisingly lucid realization didn’t stop her from taking one small, sliding step closer.

She’d meant to, but the second she moved her foot, the toe of her boot bumped against something small and lightweight to send it skittering across the hardwood with a metallic jingle.

The sound made her freeze before she glanced down to find its source without even meaning to.

Then the discomfort of all that bottled heat with nowhere to go came rushing back into her. The spell was broken. The moment was over.

And the only thing she wanted now was to get as far away from Maxwell Hannigan as possible before she broke another one of her own rules.

Already, she’d let him get way too close.

Then her brain registered the key she’d kicked across the floor.

“What was that?” Maxwell whispered before clearing his throat and taking a staggering step backward.

Clearly, he’d almost lost himself in the moment too and had snapped out of it right behind her.

“It’s a key…” Frowning, Rebecca stooped and reached for the object. Her voice hadn’t sounded like her own, and the sight of her outstretched fingers closing around the cool, hard, solid iron in her vision seemed as if they belonged to someone else.

But then she stood, staring down at the key instead of into the shifter’s glowing eyes, and finally felt like she could breathe again.

Maxwell took another two steps away from her with a barely audible snort, and though she knew he tried to hide it, she still noticed a quick shake of his head, as if he were trying to clear it.

And how did she know any of that without looking at him?

Just like she always knew where he was in a crowded room, or how much he didn’t approve of a situation, or whenever he drew closer out in the hallway while she was in another room…

At the same time, the effects of his closeness faded, until everything felt returned to normal.

Like nothing had ever happened.

Nothing did happen , she told herself. Remember that.

“It’s a key,” she repeated, and now even her voice sounded like her own again.

Maxwell cleared his throat one more time. “To what?”

He sounded like himself again too, albeit just a little less certain and self-important than normal.

Rebecca turned back toward her desk to scan the wooden floor beneath it where she’d first felt that soft, solid weight toppling onto her shoe during the meeting. “I think it fell out of one of the drawers.”

Then she looked up at her Head of Security and lifted the key toward him between her fingers, as if such a tiny thing were a shield to protect her from getting lost in his gaze.

In all of him…

Maxwell’s jaw muscles worked furiously as he glanced at the key, then shook his head and turned away. “Never seen it before.”

“We can save that one for later, then,” she said, and pocketed the key to let it travel right alongside the two stone figurines nestled in her jacket pocket.

Then real life and the present returned, as if time had frozen for longer than she cared to admit and had now just started up again.

“Right now, our priority is getting Nyx safely back home,” she said.

“Agreed.” He’d turned slightly away from her, not quite facing the office door. It seemed he was actively trying not to look at her, even when he added, “Both of us.”

He just wasn’t going to let this go, was he?

No matter what Rebecca said, her Head of Security would come up with another valid response for why he had to join her, why he couldn’t let her meet with Harkennr alone. Fighting him on this would only use up the energy she’d already decided to pour into rescuing Nyx.

She had to relent.

“Fine. You’re coming with me.”

Maxwell turned halfway back toward her, as though he also didn’t want to get sucked up into whatever sticky web they’d been weaving around each other, with no idea what it was or how to stop it.

“But I call the shots,” Rebecca added. “And I need your word that you won’t shift whenever you feel like it or go on the offensive at the drop of a hat. Not until I give the word to do so. Deal?”

His scowl had returned, already transforming him once again into the stoic, brooding, disapproving Head of Security she almost thought she preferred, because it was vastly less uncomfortable than whatever had just happened between them.

Or whatever had almost happened.

“I don’t like those terms,” he grumbled.

“Of course you don’t. But they’re the only ones you’re gonna get.”

He pressed his lips tightly together, jaw muscles once again fiercely at work, before he finally huffed out a sigh through his nose and nodded. “Fine. Deal.”

“Great.” Rebecca hurried past him toward the door, afraid that if she moved any slower, she’d be caught up in him all over again. “Then let’s go.”

The relief of putting him behind her was like a breath of fresh air, though the lingering warmth of his presence and the shiver-inducing tingle flaring up across the back of her neck and shoulders as he took off after her felt far more like a liability than it ever had before.

If they couldn’t control this thing , they would just have to deal with it and hope it didn’t kick up again with terrible and deadly timing once they made it to Harkennr’s base.

If it did, Nyx would be in a lot more trouble than she was now.

So would Maxwell and Rebecca.