Chapter 18
W aiting by the coffee cart outside the Alchemy I won’t say another word.” Mum pretended to zip her lips. Emerson smiled over at them, talking to the barista. “But he does have a dashing smile.”
One moment, she was listening to her mum; the next, Lucy’s blood sizzled beneath her skin. She tried to get a handle on her breathing, which was coming too fast. Mum reached out, but Lucy flinched away, afraid she’d burn her.Was she having an anxiety attack or losing control of Benedict’s element?
“I’ve got to go. I think I forgot something at Stoker’s.” She clutched the crystal at her neck, but it didn’t seem to be helping. “Take Emerson to lunch, and I’ll see him back at the library.”
The tea in her hands was only making everything worse. She dropped it in the bin and practically ran away.
“Lucy!” Mum called, but thankfully she didn’t follow.
In the alley, Lucy stared at her hands and tried to spark a flame to let the fire breathe. It didn’t work; her skin continued to simmer. No element liked to be contained for long. The fire was far more dangerous and temperamental than her water element.
She gripped the crystal around her neck again, but it wasn’t doing enough. Starting a bonfire in the middle of town wasn’t an option, and there were only so many candles to light. Putting a hand on her chest, Lucy closed her eyes as the world started slipping away around her.
A second later, the sound of running water made her heart leap. My element! Maybe the potion worked after all!
Lucy opened her eyes.
She was in a bathroom.
Black tiles surrounded her, and two gold-plated sinks with ornate mirrors reflected her blotchy cheeks. Worse, she wasn’t alone. Only a few feet away from her, Benedict Matherson lay in a large bathtub, covered in bubbles, eyes closed and dark hair slicked back away from his face. There was a pile of muddy clothes at Lucy’s feet, but she was too distracted by the sight of his naked shoulders to wonder what he’d been up to.
As though he sensed her presence, his eyes snapped open.
“How the hell did you get in here?” he shrieked in a rather unmanly manner.
Water and bubbles sloshed over the edge of the tub. Lucy lifted her feet out of the way.
“I don’t know!” She panicked, unsure of where to look. “I didn’t come here on purpose. I had this awful feeling, like I was burning alive. Then I was here… in your bathroom.” She stared at him, unsure if he was real. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to be here as much as you don’t want me seeing—” She cut herself off.
Scrubbing his hands over his face, Benedict sat up, revealing smooth, wet skin. Droplets trickled down his abs. Clearly all that running worked well for him.Lucy tried not to look at what was lurking below the diminishing bubbles. Suddenly there wasn’t enough air for both of them. Her heart hammered as he grabbed a towel from the rack beside her.
“Can you please leave, or at least turn around?” he asked, raising a sharp eyebrow. Her eyes were immediately drawn to the tension in his hands and forearms as he started to pull himself up, and her heart did a weird flip. Promising herself it was just the heat of the room and not anything to do with Benedict, Lucy hurried out the door before he caught her lingering gaze.
She hovered at the end of his bed, chewing on her nail. She wanted to apologise again for invading his privacy, but she still didn’t understand how she had ended up in his bathroom in the first place.
The door swung open, and she turned to give him some privacy. She heard him walking around the room, but he didn’t say anything.When she peeked through her fingers, her gaze trailed down his toned back, one side covered with a long spiralling tattoo of ivy that dipped below the black towel. She chewed her lip to stop herself from smiling. Of course his towels were black.
Benedict cleared his throat. “I’m decent; you can look now. I take it you’re here to talk about trying another spell or potion?”
“We can try the curse-stripping potion. It’ll just take me a while to order some of the ingredients from Myrtle’s,” Lucy said quickly. The ingredients were far more complicated than what was usually stocked in town.
“If we don’t figure out something between now and then, we can give it a go,” he agreed mildly.
Confusion delayed her response. She couldn’t believe he wasn’t giving her more of a hard time.
“You’re not angry?” she asked, lowering her hands from her eyes. He was still in just the towel wrapped around his middle. “I thought you said you were decent.”
“What’s the point in getting mad? We tried, and we can keep trying. More importantly, I was taking a bath in the privacy of my own home. It’d be rather strange to wear clothes while bathing.” Benedict began to dry his hair with another towel.
Lucy tried to focus her attention on the decor and not how good he looked soaking wet. His hair – just long enough to run your hands through – was wavy and wet, giving him a far more relaxed appearance than usual. He also had the Matherson sigil tattooed on his chest: the ivy vines from his back wrapped around a Gothic ‘M’.
He raised his eyebrows as he caught her staring, then gave her a smug grin. It seemed he was enjoying this, now that the surprise had worn off.
“I thought of you as more of a shower guy. The bubble bath was a surprise,” she said, not wanting to admit she’d been staring. She’d seen the tattoo before, when he rolled up his shirt sleeves, but she hadn’t known how expansive it was.
“Do you think about me in the shower a lot?” He tossed the hair towel back in the bathroom and closed the door.
Lucy didn’t dignify that with a response.
He inhaled deeply. “It helps me relax– something I’ve struggled with since we got engaged. If I remember correctly, you did tell me to use your element, or it would get too strong.”
Her eyes went wide.“My element – it must’ve pulled me here! Did you use my water to fill the entire tub?”
“You told me to use it!” he repeated.
She waved that away. “I’m not accusing you– you didn’t know.”
He frowned.“Why are you smiling?”
“Because this means we’re still connected to our elements. They must call to us when they’re used in volume,” she said, getting a little too close in her eagerness to explain. Feeling the warmth emanating from his body, she tried to step back, but he followed her. Heat rose up the sides of her neck, but she didn’t try to move away again.
“I suppose that’s a good thing. Means we haven’t lost them entirely.” He sat on the trunk at the end of his poster bed, pushing his wet hair back from his face. “But if your element brought you here…”
“Then… we need to refrain from using each other’s element to prevent this from happening again,” she finished, and he nodded.
“Luckily, I don’t need to use fire in any state of undress,” she teased, trying to make light of the situation.
He rolled his eyes, but he seemed deep in thought.“What were you doing before you came here?”
“Talking with my mum.” She avoided his gaze, studying the expansive poster bed and all the candles of varying lengths. He has his candles and fire, and I’ve got my water and flowers, she thought. His home felt medieval compared to hers, but somehow still cosy.
“About what? If I might ask.” He followed her out of his bedroom.
“Emerson. She was showing him the town,” Lucy said eventually, leaving out the matchmaking part.
“And then?” he asked, close to her back, as she paused by the couch.
“I don’t know. It felt like my insides were burning. My blood started boiling, but I wasn’t angry,” she explained. Remembering the sensation made her queasy.
“What if my element was defending itself?” he mused.
Frowning, she turned to face him. “You’re not thinking your element was jealous of Emerson?” It sounded ridiculous, but there was no hint of humour in his dark eyes.
“My element could’ve perceived what Wilhelmina was saying as a threat to our binding. If our elements are trying to make sure the binding happens, it’d make sense that you’d be pulled away from him and brought…” He hesitated, his chest rising and falling. “To me.” It was so quiet she barely caught the words.
Why was it that whenever he got this close, her heart tried to escape her chest? It didn’t feel healthy to be drawn to someone who’d hurt her so much in the past.
“I wasn’t pulled away during our dinner,” she argued, pulling herself together and moving to the desk to put some space between them.
He rubbed the back of his neck. She wondered if he felt the same as she did. Maybe it was just another side-effect of the spell.
“I was there,” he admitted. She stared at him. “Outside. It might’ve taken me some time to get the courage to face your family after everything that went down with the coven, but when Rosie told me you’d invited him, I couldn’t leave.”
They fell silent. The thought of him nervously pacing outside her house made her smile.
“It’s far more likely that it’s the use of our elements. Maybe mine is trying to get back to me,” she reasoned.
“If that’s true, then why weren’t you pulled here when I showered last night? Or when I watered the gardens this morning?” he asked.
“I’m only guessing, but maybe it was the volume of water used. Next time, don’t use my water to fill the bath unless you want me to join you.” It was silly, but she had to break the tension before it swallowed them both.
“What was that last part?” He stared at her.
“I said don’t use my water to fill your bathtub.”
He exhaled as though exasperated, but she cocked her head, seeing a small smile trying to fight through. She wondered what he was thinking. Maybe joking about bathing together wasn’t the best idea.
“From now on, let’s be careful about how much we use.” She crossed her arms over her chest. If he was right, that meant she wouldn’t be called here every time he bathed – which was a relief, no matter how good he looked in a towel.
“Agreed.” He nodded.
“We’re getting better at this,” she pointed out, picking up a mini gargoyle paperweight from his stack of paperwork. It was the same design as those beneath the library. It made sense, since it was one of his ancestors who’d crafted the stone protectors. In miniature form, the terrifying creature was almost cute.
“At what?”
“Civil conversations.” Lucy put down the paperweight, surprised by the amount of paper. For the first time, she noticed he didn’t have a laptop. “You wouldn’t have to use so much paper with a computer.”
“Says the woman who works in a library,” he chuckled.
“Touché.” She should probably be going, yet somehow she didn’t feel the desire to leave.
“To be honest, I don’t like having electricity in my quarters; the waves throw off my element. The paper I can burn up with my fire,” he told her.
Lucy nodded. Now that she’d experienced his fire first-hand, she realised how difficult it was to manage. “You put a lot of thought into arranging your life around your element. Water is mischievous and always wants to help, but I can’t say it affects me like your fire does,” she admitted, interested to hear more. Maybe if they understood each other better, they’d stop seeing each other as rivals.
“It’s volatile. Fire is the expression of anger, power, and even lust. If not harnessed correctly, then it’s not only dangerous to its bearer, but to those around them,” he said, fear settled in his gaze. Fear that his element would hurt her, or the town they both cherished?
“But even if it can be destructive, it brings new life, like my water. We can’t survive without it,” she said, getting the impression he didn’t think about the positives of his element much.
He took a step closer, and a gentle sizzle settled beneath her skin. She didn’t know what he was doing, but she wasn’t afraid. Benedict took her hand and held it over the candles on his desk. Wordlessly, she let him guide her. The candles lit with ease. Even that small expression of fire eased the boil in her blood, but she still struggled to contain it to a single small flame.
“Better?” he asked at her shoulder.Lucy swallowed as his fingers slipped between hers, sending shivers up her arm. At that moment, she realised she trusted him. She trusted Benedict Matherson.
He stared at her, his gaze moving from her eyes to her lips as though he was seeing her for the first time.
A small crash broke his hold on her. A purple lizard had knocked a candle holder off the side table.
“Greko! How much you’ve grown!” Lucy exclaimed, picking up the creature and placing him on her shoulder. “I wasn’t sure if you still had him.”
“Why wouldn’t I? Everyone needs a creature of destruction in their home,” Benedict quipped, picking up the candle holder.
“Because I gave him to you. I wondered if you might’ve given him away.” Lucy stroked his purple scales. When she’d found the gecko, he’d had an awful accident. She’d managed to cure him, but with the unintended side-effect of turning him a very pretty, yet alarming shade of lilac.
“I’m not entirely heartless,” he said, a trace of sadness in his voice.
“I should go. Can’t keep the library waiting all day.” She didn’t want to dwell on their past.
“Duty calls,” Benedict said wryly.
Lucy eased Greko’s claws from her clothes and placed him on the floor. She was in the doorway when she remembered they hadn’t talked about the meeting. She hadn’t even asked why he hadn’t attended.
“Thank you for covering for me yesterday at the meeting. You could’ve used my absence to your advantage.”
“Don’t mention it; I’m sure you’d do the same for me.” He shrugged, as though it was nothing.
Lucy left the room, feeling off-balance. She was used to arguing with him, not thanking him.Resting her head on the closed door, she took a deep breath, trying to centre herself. She nearly fell back into Benedict’s arms when he surprised her by opening the door.
“You okay?” he asked, reaching for her, but she corrected her balance, trying not to flush in embarrassment. His soft tone made her downright bashful.
Why had he come after her and risk his staff seeing him in a towel? A voice in the back of her mind said she didn’t want anyone to see him like this. Before she could raise her concern, she looked down at what he was holding out to her.
“It’s a ring.” She stared, dumbfounded.
Benedict rolled his eyes and took her hand in his. The coolness of his touch was the first relief she’d had in days from the heat. She didn’t want to ever pull away. Besides, she was curious to know where this was going… and the ring was beautiful.
“I picked it up this morning. I put in a rush order after we nearly destroyed the gardens. I figured you should have it sooner rather than later,” he said, placing the small gold band on her ring finger.
“This is a binding ring?” Lucy breathed as she stared at the glistening crystals held in place by an infinity symbol. It was beautiful, delicate, and fitted perfectly. She’d never expected that he’d be the one to give it to her – or that it would make her stomach flip, in the best way.
“The sunstone and amethyst stones represent both our elements. I know it’s tradition for your ring to hold my element and mine yours, but I thought together would be better. The sunstone will help you to control my element; it has the same effect as the carnelian stone in the necklace I gave you,” he explained, as if giving her a ring that signified spending the rest of eternity together was completely normal. He rolled his thumb over the stones, her hand still in his.
She wanted to thank him, but the words caught in her throat.
“I’m relieved it fits; I wasn’t sure. I took a ring from your room the other night.” Maybe her silence was making him nervous. “We didn’t go about this thing the traditional way, but you deserve a ring, even if it’s just for appearance’s sake.”
“Benedict,” was all she could muster. She didn’t care that he’d taken one of her rings, too caught up in the thought he’d put into this. Binding rings had been the last thing on her mind, and she couldn’t help but feel guilty. Even if the coven had ordered their engagement, he was still thinking of her feelings.
Before she knew what she was doing, she rose on her tiptoes and brushed her lips against his cheek and the dark shadow of not-quite-yet-stubble. “Thank you.”
She drew back an inch, hoping she hadn’t gone too far. Benedict’s jaw clenched, and she was about to retreat when his head tilted towards her.
Lucy’s breath caught. He was about to kiss her. She didn’t know if she wanted him to, but the thought of him pulling away troubled her all the more. His hand rose to her face – but he stopped himself, leaving her utterly confused about the disappointment weighing on her heart.
“I-I should go,” she stammered.
When Benedict didn’t say anything, she followed his hard stare over her shoulder and was horrified to see a maid gaping at them. The shock on her face was probably due to seeing her boss half-naked and only inches away from a woman.
Lucy clenched her fists. This would turn rumours of their political engagement into something far more salacious. It’d be much harder to argue their indifference towards each other now.
“Sorry, sir, there was an issue with one of the guests,” the maid said, hurrying back the way she’d come.
“She won’t say anything,” Benedict started to say, but Lucy cut him off.
“I’ve to get back to work,” she muttered. “Thank you for the ring.”
Unable to meet his eyes, she scurried down the hall. The whispers would probably spread throughout town before she even had a chance to reach the library. As she reached the lobby, her heart tightened; the maid was behind the reception desk, whispering to a bag handler. They were doomed.
This was all just thoughtlessness, the ring, their elements, their truce. Out in the air, she pressed her hand over her racing heart.
When she reached the library doors and saw the flowers starting to grow out of the ashes, she realised that if that maid hadn’t interrupted, Benedict would have kissed her, and she would’ve let him.