Chapter 8
COMPLICATIONS ARISE … ALONG WITH OTHER THINGS
brANDON
Brandon retreated to his office in the back, his magic slamming the door shut behind him. He braced his hands on the worktable, his chest heaving.
That had been too close.
He could still feel the warmth of Muriel against his chest as the icy terror melted and gave way to something softer.
Could smell the clean, delicate scents of spring flowers, freshly mown grass, and rich earth.
Still see those huge eyes looking up at him, trusting, and vulnerable and wanting and marked.
It had taken all the willpower he possessed to step away instead of doing what every cell in his body wanted to do—namely, pull her closer and lay claim to every part of her.
“Fuck,” he muttered, running his hands through his hair.
He’d made a critical error, both in overestimating his control and underestimating the power of the mate bond. Being that close to Muriel while deliberately triggering intense emotions, feeling her fear and then her relief and then that spike of desire…
But she needed to learn emotional control, and he was the only one who could teach her. He trusted no one else. He’d eviscerate—magically and otherwise—anyone who got that close to her.
He simply had to get a better grip on himself.
A soft knock on the doorframe made him jerk his head up.
“Brandon?” Muriel said quietly from the other side of the door. “I'm sorry to bother you. I just wanted to let you know that I’ve cleaned up. I'm going upstairs.”
He heard the sadness in her voice and felt it deep in his chest. She thought she’d disappointed him. She didn’t understand that his sudden retreat had nothing to do with her loss of control and everything to do with his.
Taking a deep breath, he calmed himself and opened the door. The dejection on her face gutted him.
He attempted what he hoped was a reassuring smile. “You’re not bothering me, and you have nothing to be sorry for. How are you feeling?”
“Tired. A little shaky.” She bit her lip. “That was intense.”
“I know. I'm sorry I had to put you through that.”
“Don't be. You were right. I need to be able to control my magic even when I'm afraid.” She wrapped her arms around herself and frowned. “Though I'm not sure what happened at the end. The lemon tree...”
His best guess—that was her magic responding to the emotional whiplash of fear, followed by a wave of desire, and slapped back with his abrupt rejection. Not that he could explain that.
She nodded, still looking uncertain.
“Muriel—”
“Brandon—”
They both stopped. He gestured for her to continue.
“I've been thinking about what you said. About showing Armand the book.” She straightened her shoulders, that determined look he was coming to recognize settling over her features. “I'd like to meet him, if the offer still stands.”
“Of course, it does. I'll reach out to Jason and set something up.”
“Thank you.” She hesitated, then added softly, “Not just for that, but for everything.”
She was giving him too much credit. He wasn’t just doing this out of the goodness of his heart. His reasons for helping her were as selfish as they were altruistic.
“Get some rest,” he said, his voice rougher than intended. “We'll talk more tomorrow.”
She nodded and disappeared up the stairs.
Brandon waited until he heard the apartment door close before he pulled out his phone and texted Jason.
Brandon: Muriel agreed to meet with Armand.
The reply came almost immediately.
Jason: In the neighborhood. See you in ten.
A short while later, Jason settled into a chair with his usual casual grace and regarded Brandon with the keen gaze of the spymaster he was. Brandon brought over two glasses and a decanter of high-end bourbon and poured a few fingers for each of them.
“Ah.” Jason's lips twitched. “The mate bond is making training difficult, is it?”
“That's one word for it. Every time I'm near her, every time we touch, it gets harder to keep my distance. And today...” He shook his head. “Today I nearly lost control.”
“What happened?”
“Fear exercise. She broke down, I comforted her, and the next thing I knew, she was in my arms and looking up at me like—” He cut himself off. “I had to walk away before I did something stupid.”
“Like tell her the truth?”
“Like kiss her,” Brandon corrected. “Which would have led to other things, including telling her the truth.”
Jason studied him over the rim of his glass. “The longer you wait—”
“I know.” Brandon set down his glass before he shattered it, then surged to his feet and began to pace. “Just as I know the clock is ticking. The blue sparks in her eyes are getting more pronounced. Anyone who knows what to look for will figure it out.”
Jason listened with genuine sympathy but he didn’t waste time or effort telling Brandon things he already knew.
Brandon exhaled heavily and sank back into his chair. “So what were you doing in town?”
Jason took the change of subject in stride. “Checking on a few things,” he answered vaguely. “When do you want to meet with Armand?”
“As soon as possible. Hopefully it will give us some answers or at least confirm our theory. If that book really is the Codex Animarum, we need to know.”
“All right. I'll speak to Armand tonight.” Jason stood, then paused and tapped the side of his eye. “Brandon... you do realize that Armand doesn’t leave the estate, right? To meet him, you’ll have to bring her to him.”
Brandon's stomach sank. He'd been so focused on getting answers about the Codex that he hadn't fully considered the implications. “Ana and Ryssa.”
Jason nodded.
Neither Ana nor Ryssa were witches, as far as Brandon knew. He’d heard rumors that Ryssa was a fallen angel, but exactly what Ana was, was a well-kept secret. “Do you think they’ll recognize the mate bond?”
“Perhaps,” Jason said carefully. “The vamps definitely will.”
“Will they say anything?”
“To Muriel? Probably not. But the ladies will have questions for you, I’m sure. They’ve already taken Muriel under their collective wings.” Jason rose and headed for the door. “I’ll let you know what Armand says.”
“Thanks.”
After Jason left, Brandon sat alone in the darkening shop, listening to Muriel moving quietly above him. He wanted to go to her. Comfort her. Tell her the truth and explain everything.
And he would.
Soon.
He just hoped she'd forgive him when he did.