Chapter Fourteen Damien
Chapter Fourteen
Damien
What in the underworld had I been thinking?
Answer: I hadn’t been. I’d just reacted when Wren’s face flushed and fear entered her unfairly enticing eyes. When she looked to me of all people for help.
My insides were fire, and my brain…well, it ceased to work. I’d meant to pull her into that alley and demand she stop with her questions and trust me—even if I currently was attempting to deceive her—when her father’s friend inconveniently materialized.
If that man had found her out, with me, she would’ve been on lockdown for a decade, along with her connections. So I did the one thing that would have the uptight lord hurriedly glancing the other way should he spot two people in an alley across the street from the Registry of Magical Gifts—
I touched her. Kissed her jaw, her throat, her collarbone. Acted as a lover.
And I liked it far too much.
Damn it.
I compelled myself to march across the pristine bricks of the business district of Andalay, not stealing a peek to see if the ward princess kept up or not. Judging by the occasional indignant huffs, I had yet to lose her.
Was I entirely convinced that my mirror’s power waned because I’d stolen Wren’s gift?
No. But it remained the most logical and impeccably timed answer.
Being low on magic was like being low on oxygen; if my magic continued to flicker and weaken, how would I keep myself off the streets?
I had no skills aside from unburdening a man of his wallet, and no one would hire me knowing my background, not even in the Void.
Cap might, but I didn’t want to take advantage of him.
I already stayed beneath his roof, and for a fraction of the price he’d normally charge.
I had to stick to the plan. My future depended on it—and I wasn’t just referring to my time in the south.
The sunny day was busy, and we had to push past several well-dressed gentlemen, their fine suits pressed and bowler hats gleaming brilliantly enough to blind. I wondered if they could handle a day without their pretentious armor.
My steps weighed heavier the closer we neared, the distraction of the city no match for the images swirling through my thoughts against my will.
My mind was a traitor. One with terrible timing.
I blinked, a flash of the alley causing my core to heat.
Wren’s silky skin. Her tiny moan. The way she’d pushed her body into mine. Fates, I’d had the idiotic craving to do more than kiss up her neck. I’d wished to see what the princess tasted like. To see if her lips were as soft as they appeared.
You’re attracted to her. It will fade.
Attraction always did. It was a fickle thing; there one moment, and easily dismissed. I rarely grew attached, and while this new…obsession had to do strictly with the locket and the mystery surrounding her, it was a nuisance.
Sadly for me, this wasn’t the first time I had pictured Wren Hayes.
There’d been a few lonely nights after the ball; the first being when she stabbed me.
In my head, she’d been underneath me once again, but this time, she was free of her voluminous ball gown.
That fire of hers hadn’t been anger, but need, a longing for me.
I might be a thief, but there were certain activities I did enjoy—but with Wren…
She likely never had such an experience, and if she had—
Why did that thought bother me? Of her with someone else?
It shouldn’t; I firmly believed the old ways were archaic, and that society ladies shouldn’t have to hide their urges and desires. If men were free to act on theirs, why couldn’t women?
“Damien?”
I jerked to a stop, lost to my deviant mind. I hadn’t realized where we stood.
A drink would be needed after this nightmare, along with some very welcoming company, and then I’d forget all about the spoiled blond and her delicious curves. Even as I thought of other women, a sour taste entered my mouth.
Wren eyed me skeptically, her short stature taking nothing away from her intensity. I loathed that look. It made me feel small and queasy. Inspected, like an insect under a microscope.
Yes, lean into that.
I felt better after embracing what she represented.
“How are we planning on doing this?” she asked, her emotions, like when she’d been interrogated, wiped from her face. So different from the alley and her wide eyes and parted lips. Maybe she had the makings of a decent criminal after all.
“We don’t have the right to request private information,” I mused aloud, touching my fingers to my mirror, hidden in my pocket. “That means we have to sneak in. You’re the distraction if my magic…runs out.” Yeah, I had yet to deliver the news of my fading power.
I doubted she would enjoy the reason.
“Me? Why do I need to be the distraction? And magic running out?” Her forehead creased. “I’ve never heard of such a thing.”
“You’re the distraction because you’re a well-bred lady they’ll think is harmless,” I supplied, taking in her simple but luxurious dress. It fit her form nicely, the silken material hidden beneath the gauze custom-made for her delicate skin.
“You didn’t answer my other question, Damien.”
Wren crossed her arms, drawing more attention to her chest. I tilted my head.
“See? Anyone manning the front desk will be too distracted to notice me if I need help getting out.” She lifted her eyebrow so high, it was impressively close to her hairline.
I groaned. “Fine. My damned mirror has been on the fritz lately, so you may have to step up if it weakens. And don’t ask me why, because I don’t know either.
” We both knew there were no reports where a gift’s power faded. This was entirely new.
Silence stretched as she pondered.
“I hate that you got a gift, even if it doesn’t last long,” she eventually mumbled. “Such a waste.”
“Not when I’m hungry,” I retorted, and her face visibly fell.
Her lips parted as she likely prepared to spew something sympathetic or demeaning, but I turned for the steps and headed on.
Wren had no idea what true life was like, I reminded myself.
If I’d grown up the way she had, perhaps I would be just as clueless.
There still might be a chance for her to learn, though.
She didn’t seem as arrogant as her peers.
Aside from her general animosity toward me.
I hadn’t exactly helped change her opinion.
I took out my mirror and flipped open the lid just as Wren opened the front door, ensuring that anyone inside the lobby would see only her. My shoulders instantly relaxed as a buzz of energy washed over, my power rendering me invisible. My favorite state.
Wren slowed her walk, turning her steps into delicate little whispers across the marble flooring. Her eyes widened as if she were lost, and all the tension clinging to her features from earlier vanished.
“Hello, miss,” a young man seated at a dark wooden desk greeted her. Finely groomed, he ran his hand down his pressed suit, even if there wasn’t a wrinkle in sight. “How can I be of assistance?”
A choked sobbing noise sounded in the back of her throat. “I…I was hoping you could help,” she pleaded, a hint of a tremble in her voice. I almost paused to applaud the act. “I was never given a gift, you see, and I—I wanted to find out if that’s e-ever happened before.”
The young man’s expression morphed into one of pity, his stare raking over the mess Wren had fashioned herself into. “Oh, my.” He stood just as she let tears slip free. I suspected he had no idea what to do, his hands moving in the air around her body but not aware of how to comfort.
I swallowed my snort and left Wren to her theatrics. How she’d turned on the charm—or rather, the act of damsel in distress—had been inspiring. Who knew she could be so…
Much like me.
Devious.
A grin broadened my face as I slipped down the hall and toward the back of the building.
Birth years plated in gold hung above each door I passed, and I made my way to the one containing numbers belonging to two decades prior.
I suspected the thief would be young. If someone older had wished to steal magic, they’d have done it by now, not wasted power when they could’ve had it in their prime.
That caused me to believe the culprit from the ball had to be somewhere between eighteen and thirty.
Creeping into the marked room, I nearly groaned aloud. The low-lit space with towering racks overflowed with a ridiculous amount of paperwork; rows and rows of boxes filled with thousands of names. This could take forever.
All right, where to start—
Oh.
I frowned, my eye catching a single box on the middle shelf labeled with the years I had in mind.
It’s right there.
Cautiously, I approached the box like a live serpent set to strike.
Lifting the lid, I skimmed the pages with the pads of my fingers, finding hundreds of documents tabbed neatly for my perusal by year and last name.
They were even color-coded, a few red tabs poking up to indicate those who hadn’t received gifts.
It seemed…too easy. In my line of business, easy meant trouble.
My fingers had only grazed the first sheet when I noticed my hand. It had begun to waver, my fingers going in and out of sight. Shite.
It had been strong the last time I used it—well, when I’d been close to Wren.
Close to her.
I cursed. Did she somehow strengthen it? It didn’t matter now—I had to get out of here before someone arrested me.
I hadn’t planned on stealing the whole box, but desperate times and all that. Besides, Wren could create a commotion so the guard didn’t see a floating box exiting the building. I bet they were already getting along, the man too overwhelmed by her tears to notice much else.
Grabbing it with both hands, I hauled it to my hip and pried open the door. The buzzing in my veins hummed like a mosquito; louder when I remained entirely invisible, and softer when my body showed itself. I had maybe a minute.