10. Chapter 10
Chapter ten
“ I’ve lost Bravat. ” Jaem didn’t sound like his normal self.
“ What? ” That wasn’t what Cyrus had expected to hear.
“ I should have told you sooner. I’m sorry. I went to the Free Cities, and when I got back, he wasn’t here. ”
Cyrus swore. It was bad enough that Bravat was running unchecked and razing Mercian temples with no regard for consequences to Rael. To completely lose eyes on him wasn’t good.
“ Don’t worry ,” Jaem said. “Sid is with me. We’ll find him. ”
Sid. Cyrus had to think for a moment but then remembered. Sid was a lower-tier fighter from House Akim. He’d been a thief as well, when he and Jaem had been caught together and sold to the arena. Good kid. Bad fighter. But, fortunately, Cyrus didn’t need him to fight right now.
“ We won’t fail you on this ,” Jaem said.
“ You’re not failing me ,” Cyrus assured him. “ Have Sid keep on; give him a vial to call me when he finds Bravat. I have another job for you, though. I need you to go to Japheth and see what you can find about a woman. ”
“ A woman? ”
“ I promised someone help in finding her. Meet me at the stone circle. You’ll sail from Rael. ”
“ All right. I’ll call to you when I’m close. ”
Cyrus rubbed his temples. He’d let Bravat go on too long. When Sid found him, Cyrus would have to take care of him.
He set his attention back on the parchments in front of him on the desk, but his eyes glazed over, and he tossed them back down. More problems. They just kept coming. It never stopped.
“What are you doing so glum in here?”
He looked up to find Essandra in the doorway. She wore a dark purple gown that showed off her shoulders and the length of her neck, but he was careful not to let his eyes linger too long. “Not glum,” he said. “Just annoyed.” Although slightly less annoyed now.
“Annoyed at what?” She stepped inside.
“We lost eyes on Bravat. Who knows what he’s doing now. I’m going to have to do something about him when I find him, though. I can’t just leave him in Mercia, doing as he pleases.” He held up a stack of papers. “Then I have things like this.”
“What’s that?”
“A petition to change public irrigation as a result of land redistribution.” He held up another stack of papers. “And a petition to keep it the same.”
She smiled. “Well, I didn’t come to annoy you further.”
“You’re not,” he said quickly. “Did you need something, though?”
She shook her head as she moved to his desk. “I just wanted to see how you felt, after… you know. Everything.”
After the spell.
“Completely back to normal,” he said.
“Nothing hurts?” She’d been carrying a lot of guilt since nearly killing him.
He quirked the corner of his mouth. “Like it never happened,” he assured her.
She nodded. “Good.”
Cyrus watched her curiously as she stepped around the desk. He narrowed his eyes. “What are you doing?”
She pushed him back in his chair and climbed on top of him, straddling him. “I just thought I should properly thank you.”
Not that he objected, but… “I didn’t do it for your body.”
“I know.” She reached down between them, unlacing his leathers.
“And you don’t have to feel obligated,” he said.
“I don’t.” She paused. “But if you don’t want my body—”
“I didn’t say that.”
She smiled and pulled him free. Then she positioned herself, ruffling her dress, and took him inside her.
Cyrus let his head fall back as her warmth engulfed him. He gripped the back of his chair. He didn’t trust himself not to grab her hips, not to run his hands up her stomach and her breasts, up her neck and into her hair. He didn’t trust himself not to pull her lips to his.
Their relationship was built on rules—the only rules he made sure he followed.
Essandra moved in rhythm over him as he thrust from underneath her. She fisted his tunic against his chest. He wanted to pull it off. He wanted to pull off all the clothing between them, to not just feel her but see her, but he forced restraint.
Suddenly, she pulled herself from him, and in a brief moment of surprise, he thought she might leave him wanting, but instead she pushed herself back onto his desk. Papers scattered to the floor. Glass shattered. He wasn’t sure what had broken; he didn’t care.
Essandra pulled him to follow. He did, standing quickly and moving back between her thighs. She guided him, and sinking into her a second time felt just as good as the first.
Better.
This woman. If he wasn’t careful, he could lose himself in her.
She panted through open lips, lips he desperately wanted to kiss. He wanted her mouth more than he wanted her body—to taste her. His teeth begged to feel her flesh between them.
Her thighs tightened around him, and he moved faster.
Deeper. Closer, and closer. But he waited for her.
He waited as he felt her building. He chased her need.
As she reached her peak, he let himself come as well.
Over the edge she brought him—spiraling, falling, reeling—until she collapsed back onto the desk.
He fell over her, barely able to hold himself up.
They stayed in the quiet, with only the sounds of their panting breaths.
This was the second time he’d had her on this desk, and it was now his favorite piece of furniture. But…
“We should probably stop doing this in here,” he said, although he couldn’t hide the disappointment in his voice at the thought. “Anyone could walk in.”
The corners of her lips quirked up. “Does that not make it a little more exhilarating?”
He couldn’t help his own smile. She stared up at him with her emerald eyes. She was so incredibly beautiful.
“I never know what to say after,” he said softly. “Would a thank-you be inappropriate?”
She half snorted a laugh. “Well, I think that was me thanking you .”
“You’re going to have to let me know what else I can possibly do for you.”
She laughed again.
The jesting faded, and he grew more serious. “I mean it, though. Regardless of”—his eyes traveled her underneath him—“this… I’ll help you with whatever you need.”
“I know,” she whispered. “And I will need more from you.”
“What’s next?” Perhaps it was odd to be having a conversation while their bodies were joined, but he didn’t want to pull away from her. Not yet.
She let her breaths calm a little more. “Well, the proxy spell worked, as far as we can tell, which means you can fulfill any requirement that would normally be needed from my sister.”
“Like what?”
“The familial bond.”
He wasn’t understanding. “What does that mean?”
“You have a brother.”
And?
“He can be the second anchor,” she said.
He stiffened. “You want to use my brother?”
“Yes. I mean, no.” She swayed her head. “I mean, kind of.”
Did that mean Alexander would have to be alive?
“Both my sister and my mother need a familial anchor to the living, people with power. I can only be that for one of them. But now, with you bonded as a proxy for my sister, your brother could be the other anchor.”
So, she was asking Cyrus to spare him… The air thinned in his lungs as a cold rippled over his skin. This wasn’t a simple favor she was asking. He pulled himself from her.
“All I need is the blood,” she said.
His chest tightened. He took a step back. “Alexander’s blood,” he repeated, the words sharp on his tongue.
She sat up. “That’s the beauty of it,” she told him.
“I have yours . And if his blood can work in place of yours—which we’ve seen it can—then, hypothetically, your blood can work in place of his.
That’s just a natural version of a proxy bond anyway.
” She brought her fingers to her temple.
“I know it’s complicated, but this is… the brilliance of magic weaving.
It can be layered and manipulated to where you can make anything possible.
” She wiped her face. “Look, I don’t know if it will actually work.
An anchored person can’t be an anchor for someone else, which is why I can’t use my sister to bring back my mother.
I don’t know if a proxied person can be a proxy for someone else. It has a high possibility of failure.”
“And if it does fail, then you would need my brother. You would need him alive, and you would need his blood.” He shook his head.
Her breath caught, and she bit her lip.
The cold under his skin turned to heat. “You would ask me not to kill him?”
Something he couldn’t do…
“It would just be until I could do the spell,” she said quickly. “And that’s only if this fails.”
“Which you said has a high possibility of doing just that.” He fastened his clothing, his anger building. He turned away from her, then ran a rough hand through his hair. “I wish you would have talked to me before you did this.”
A heavy pause sat between them.
“I’m-I’m sorry,” she said. “I only had one shot at it, and it needed to be someone with power. You’re the most powerful person I know. I-I didn’t… I didn’t think you would refuse.”
“I wouldn’t have!” he snapped. “But I wish you would have talked to me first.”
She stared at him with her eyes wide and her lips parted.
A knock sounded on the door, and it swung open.
“We have a problem,” Orion said as he stepped inside. He paused when he saw the mess of desk items on the floor. His eyes shifted to Cyrus, to Essandra, then back to Cyrus.
Cyrus was too angry to jest at Essandra for his earlier point being made. “What?” he asked, making no effort to hide the irritation in his voice.
Orion frowned. “You know how I used to be owned by a for-profit operative assassins’ guild by which the only way one can leave is to die? Well, they found me. Us. Me and my men.”
Essandra’s eyes widened, and she stepped around the desk to him. “Did they send someone for you?”
He nodded. “A couple someones.”
Her mouth dropped open and her eyes grew wider. “And? Is everyone all right?”
“For now.” He shifted. “They have an ask.”
Cyrus narrowed his eyes. “What kind of ask?”
“The same gift given to me. To release them from their bonds.”
Even more anger rippled through him. “You made a bargain on behalf of Essandra?”
“I haven’t guaranteed anything,” Orion said quickly.
“I’ll do it,” Essandra interjected, “if that’s what lets them go peacefully.”
Had she lost her mind? “No.” Cyrus shook his head. “You’re not going to free every assassin who comes here. All that does is make you a target.”
Orion’s face fell as the implication hit him.
“I can take care of myself,” she said.
“I said no . I don’t want you getting involved in this.”
She scoffed at him in disbelief. “What you want doesn’t matter. I’ll do as I please.”
“Yes, you’ve made that clear,” he said shortly.
Her eyes narrowed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Cyrus cut his gaze back to Orion. “Where are they now?” he demanded.
Orion hesitated, his eyes on Essandra. “I didn’t mean to put you in danger—”
“I’m about to take care of that,” Cyrus snarled. “ Where are they? ”
He sighed. “In the workroom.”
“You put assassins in her workroom ?” Cyrus stormed out of the study and down the hall.
“Cyrus, wait!” Essandra called.
Orion raced alongside him. “They don’t mean her harm! They won’t tell anyone.”
“You speak for them now? You speak for all assassins?”
Orion stammered. “No! I… They simply want the bond broken, the same as she did for me.”
“Which she shouldn’t have even done to begin with!” Cyrus growled.
“Cyrus!” Essandra called, her voice urgent now. “What are you going to do?”
He reached the hall to her workroom and drew his sword in a smooth, practiced motion.
“Cyrus, no!”
Orion stepped in front of him, pulling his own blades. “I can’t let you do this,” he said.
“Move,” Cyrus warned.
“They just want out,” Orion said. “That’s all. They didn’t choose this life any more than I did.”
“They should have stayed away.”
“They had no choice.”
“Neither do I.” Cyrus stepped forward.
Orion braced to meet him.
“Get out of my way,” Cyrus said through his teeth.
“No.”
“Cyrus, stop!” Essandra shouted. “Please!”
“Orion,” he warned one last time.
“You’ll have to go through me,” the assassin said.
Then that was what he’d do. His muscles coiled, rage tightening in his throat. But as he surged to strike…
Pain hit him.
A searing jolt lit through his arm—burning him, disabling him. He dropped his sword. The blade clattered to the stone floor as he doubled over, clutching his arm to him.
Essandra.
Her power didn’t just hurt; it nearly crippled him. He panted out agonizing breaths, trying to scrape back control.
She shoved past him and grabbed Orion, yanking him into her workroom. The door slammed behind them.
“Essandra!” Cyrus bellowed, his voice raw. He staggered to the door. “Essandra!” he roared. “Open this door!”
There was shuffling inside.
“Essandra! Open this gods-damned door!”
More scuffling. The fall of something heavy. A struggle?
He slammed his shoulder against the door. “Essandra!”
If she was harmed…
A fury swept through him. He’d kill every single one of them, including Orion.
Cyrus rammed the door again. It gave a little but still held.
Glass crashed to the ground.
He gave another roar as he shouldered into the door again, this time with all his strength, and it burst from its hinges. As he barreled inside, he found Essandra backed against the center table with her eyes wide.
Orion stood poised in defense against the far wall, breathing heavily, his blades drawn.
Cyrus scanned the room. There was no one else with them.
“They’re gone,” Essandra told him.
His eyes traveled the room again and landed on the open window. He lunged toward it and hung out, but he saw no one.
He whirled to face her, and she stumbled back. “You freed them?” he snapped
“I had to.”
“And now more will come.”
“And I’ll free them too,” she spat back defiantly.
His eyes blazed at Orion. “This is your doing,” he said between his teeth. He’d kill him. He didn’t have his sword, but it didn’t matter. He’d pull him apart with his hands.
“Cyrus,” a voice called from behind him. Kord stepped into the room, his eyes on the door hanging off its bent and broken hinges. His hand moved the hilt of his sword, but confusion snaked his brow. “What the fuck happened here?”
“Not now,” Cyrus snapped.
“Uh, yeah now. You’re going to want to come… Gregor’s here.”