Chapter Nineteen Damien
Chapter Nineteen
Damien
We crept up the stairs, keeping a decent distance between us and Wren’s father and Hockley. By the time they reached the third floor, both men slowed, and Hockley motioned to a door off the landing. Reaching into his pocket, he retrieved a bronze key.
I grabbed my pocket mirror. I had to get in through that door before it closed.
“I’ll tell you what they say,” I told Wren, but before I dashed up the final steps, she snagged my hand.
“No, we go together,” she insisted, fingers tightening.
A protest sat at the tip of my tongue just as a buzz droned in my ears, tingles racing down my arm. Those tingles reached my fingertips and then continued…to her.
What—
Wren’s confused face was the last thing I saw before she disappeared.
Her fingers, gripping me like a vise, dug into my skin, on the verge of pain. A small whimper of surprise filled the air, yet she didn’t release me.
We were both invisible, both using my power at the same time. Which, as far as I knew, hadn’t been done before. Only a single person used a gift at one time, never two, but here we stood, two ghosts on the landing, sharing magic.
A palm thrust into my side, followed by a near-silent “Move” breathed into my ear.
Stunned, I reacted to her command while marveling at her composure, seconds after disappearing into thin air. Fates knew, the first time I used my mirror, I’d tossed the damned thing like it was a curse.
With her holding on, I led the way forward as Hockley shoved open the door. It banged forcefully against the wall, and I noted several dents marking the paint. Hayes entered first, as expected, then his host. Wren abruptly yanked on my hand, pushing us into the room before the door swung shut.
I said a silent curse, still not understanding how the hell Wren had managed to vanish along with me, how she could steal some of my magic for herself when really, I should be the only one able to use it. Not that we could discuss it now.
While I couldn’t see Wren or whatever expression she wore, I sensed her fear weighing the air. How her body drifted to mine, pushing against my side. How it trembled.
This was all new to her. To me.
But…the photograph in the locket. Our odd connection. How her close presence bolstered my magic—
It made sense that she of all people might be able to harness my gift.
I shook my head in disbelief, reminding myself to focus on the scene happening in the study with two of the most powerful lords in the realm.
When Hockley began to anxiously pace, I hauled Wren to the corner and behind a bulky armchair, careful not to break contact.
I didn’t trust my magic to hold, and in case it gave out, we could at the very least hide behind the furniture.
I instinctively looked to where Wren should be, careful to move her so she didn’t brush against the chair.
Once situated in front of me, her fingers lost some of their stiffness, and some feeling worked its way back into my arm. The girl had a strong grip.
“How many times do I have to tell you that you’re late?” Hayes asked with an exasperated sigh, hands behind his back, his stance casual. Cameron Hayes cut an imposing figure, and I didn’t blame Hockley when he turned, his eyes widening and desperate.
“You told me Day said I had another week.”
“That was a week ago,” Hayes replied, shaking his head as if in pity.
“She already gave you a warning. One I’m sure your son might hate you for, but if she’s not satisfied…
” He left the threat hanging, and Hockley swallowed thickly.
“We all must do our part, old friend, or everything stops. You know what’s at stake.
If we don’t appease Day, she won’t waste a second to ruin everything. ”
A warning. Hockley’s son Adrian hadn’t been given a gift. Was that the warning Hayes referred to? And what exactly was at stake for these men?
Hockley retained his seat as the influential leader of Ward Two. Every year he grew richer while others were left in squalor, and his many businesses flourished. Thus far, no bad luck had touched him, yet here he stood, being threatened with retribution by a Fate.
So many questions bubbled to mind, and Wren must have felt the same way, because I heard the slight sound of hitched breathing. She backed up against my chest, and I wrapped my arm around her. Her body trembled, and I feared her knees would buckle.
I ground my teeth, understanding exactly what she was thinking. She couldn’t break down now. If she believed she hadn’t received a gift because her father had angered an immortal, then she might do something rash. Her fingers on my arm were loosening, almost to the point of letting go entirely.
I had to act. For both our sakes.
Pulling her around with my arm, I backed her against the wall, hoping the solidness of it grounded her.
With as much gentleness as I could muster, I intertwined our fingers and placed her hands above her head as her chest heaved, the smallest whine escaping.
My chest pressed against hers, practically holding her upright as she tried to catch her breath.
This must be torture for her—hearing her father speak this way.
Hearing that he might be why her dreams had fallen through.
“I need to tell Day something,” Hayes continued. “I’m visiting her tonight. Tomorrow…tomorrow we both know where I’m headed, and consequences will be doled out as well. We have to time this perfectly.”
He was visiting Day and then what? Seeing another Fate? Where did he plan on going?
“Tell Day…tell her I’ll be ready by tomorrow,” Hockley muttered, his words frantic. I couldn’t see him due to my position, but it didn’t matter. Footsteps were already heading for the door.
“You best not disappoint me again,” Hayes warned. “Next time, it might be you who suffers.”
I made out the click of the door as it opened and closed, and then more of Hockley’s incessant pacing. Wren flinched when items clattered to the floor, the man wreaking havoc on his study.
Bringing my lips to where her ear should be, I whispered, “Almost there, sunshine. Breathe for me.”
No gap remained between us, my head a mere inch away.
I could feel her warm exhale fan across my lips.
I closed my eyes as I leaned forward, grateful when I felt the soft brush of her cheek meeting my stubbled one.
I murmured into her ear, telling her it would be over soon, but her frantic heartbeat pounded wildly against my chest.
I wished I could see her…
Hockley continued his rampage, the crashing of furniture being flipped causing my own heart to beat faster. We had to leave. Now. But we couldn’t very well open the door and depart without notice. Even in Hockley’s inebriated state, he’d see a door swing open by itself.
“Breathe, sweetheart,” I soothed, my lips moving to her ear once more.
A sharp ache pierced me. I wanted to release Wren and scream at Hockley for frightening her into this state, for unleashing his vicious temper.
When Hockley tossed something made of glass and I pushed deeper against Wren, she did something that utterly surprised me—
Lips brushed my neck.
I went utterly still, overstimulated by the chaos in the room and the chaos Wren had wrought on my body with one press of her lips.
I swore I heard her say my name as she moved upward, grazing my jaw, so soft, so sweet. My insides were molten, and I had to swallow a groan when her mouth continued its slow perusal. She felt so damned good…too good.
“Wren.” I said her name like a whisper of a plea, a shiver wracking my frame.
Her response was another kiss, this one placed dangerously close to my mouth.
My heartbeat galloped in my chest, every muscle tensing as I held back, as I let her take charge.
I didn’t know what was real and what was a distraction.
If she’d kissed me to calm her nerves, or if… If.
I should’ve remained frozen in place. I should have done so many things besides what I planned to do.
Fuck me. I was damning myself and I didn’t care.
When Wren Hayes, daughter of my enemy and Ward One princess, released a soft “Please” I lost whatever control I possessed.
Straining from the effort to remain silent, I swept my lips along her jaw, making my way to her cheek with tender kisses that were unlike me.
Another glass ornament shattered behind us, masking my muffled groan as I tasted her skin, scenting her signature citrus hiding beneath her floral perfume, that intoxicating smell that clung to her hair.
I moved her wrists to one hand as the other inched down, my mouth gliding across her cheeks, her nose, her chin. Everywhere and anywhere I could reach.
Cursed Fates, did I like it. Liked how she stopped shaking and curved into me. With my eyes still closed, I saw her as perfectly as I had when I kissed her neck in that alley.
I made a point to avoid her lips. To avoid the one place my mind begged me to go.
Instead, I paid attention to the delicate curve of neck, her collarbone, moving down to where the tempting neckline of her dress began.
I didn’t go farther, but she arched into me, and only I heard her hum of approval.
Only I could make out the way her hips moved in sync with my own.
We were trapped, and yet I’d never felt so fucking free.
The door slammed shut.
Wren released her breath, the air ghosting against my cheek, but she didn’t move. Didn’t try to pull away. In this in-between place where we were quite literally invisible, she surprised me once again.
Wren fused her lips to mine.
I groaned, deep and full of need. Her lips were supple and sweet and fucking delicious. My skin burned and my head swam. No way could I cease this madness. Not when Wren parted for me, allowing me to slip inside and taste her and the remnants of our drinks of blueberries and raspberries.
We didn’t speak. Why ruin this? In my delusional state, I told myself this wasn’t real.
So I acted like it wasn’t.
I tightened my hold on her hands and invaded her mouth, stealing her air, using it as my own.
She sighed, the raspy noise going right to my center as that fire became an inferno.
Somewhere along the way, our kisses turned needier, my teeth grazing her bottom lip.
Nipping at it. Sucking it. I rumbled with approval when she returned the favor.
She pulled away, just for an instant, but a part of me died, the coldness like a knife to an already opened wound. I started to protest, but her lips traveled down my neck. Sucked on the skin. Marked me.
I cursed aloud.
My sunshine had transformed into something dangerous.
Something that could ruin me. In all my years, I’d never had this intense a reaction.
I thought I had, but no. Never like this.
I existed on a whole new plane, kissing Wren Hayes.
Feeling her hips buck against mine while she swirled her tongue, matching me move for move.
Overpowering me with nothing more than her addictive kiss.
I felt like I’d lost my mind as she moved up and down, her teeth scraping my sensitive flesh, her pouty lips soothing any bite she made.
This had been bound to happen; this pull of ours too strong. But it was just that—a pull. A connection. An attraction.
For Fates’ sake, she danced in Everett’s arms not more than fifteen minutes ago, giving him her radiant smile. Holding on to him like he could be her rock.
I’d forgotten everything tonight. Forgotten who I was. Who she was.
My body tensed. Was I the boy she toyed with before moving on to someone of her own station? The dalliance she could think on years from now and laugh about?
“Damien?” Her voice filled the air, and my name came out breathless, so full of want and desire, it physically hurt, the ache in my chest throbbing.
I…I liked her. And the one thing I’d learned the hard way in the Void was that attachments could break you in the end. Especially with her; a lady who lived an entirely different life. Realization struck me. Hard.
We’d never work.
“It’s time to go,” I said stiffly, abruptly lowering her hands. Still entwined with her out of my gift’s necessity, I gently urged her invisible body forward and around the chair. She didn’t say another word, and I wondered what went on in her mind. If it was just as chaotic as mine.
I didn’t let go of her until we slipped through the door and left it unlocked behind us. Didn’t let go until shadows swarmed us on the stairwell.
When we broke apart, I swore a great shudder shook the very floor beneath my feet.
Slowly, she took shape—her gown, her hair, that face that could destroy me with one coy smirk. Now it was blotched in red and marred with confusion.
We should talk about what had just transpired, but talking would lead to things I didn’t want to know.
“We break into Lizzy’s home tomorrow,” I said, not meeting her eye. I knew we should try to inspect Adrian Hockley’s room, but he was inside it, so that would be something I’d do alone. Once I got away from her. She just had to believe I’d left the ball.
I couldn’t stand one more moment in her presence.
Lies. It was all a fantasy. A fiction. A dalliance she partook in before leaving me cold. I knew better than this.
“Damien, please. We need—”
I grabbed my mirror and stepped back, fading from her sight. The smell of the rose in my pocket overwhelmed, and I grasped the short stem, rolling it between my fingers. The bud slipped, falling to the floor.
Wren didn’t move for a good many seconds, but when she did, a lone tear slid down her cheek as her eyes drifted to the rose.
Eyes glassy, she passed me, her chest inches away, her body near enough to grab and swing her back into my arms. But I didn’t.
“I hate you, Damien.”
Hell, I hated myself, too.
I stared at her retreating back, cursing as I ran a hand through my hair in frustration.
Frustration with myself. Clutching the banister, I sucked in a deep breath, preparing to return to the party, invisible to the world.
That was when my focus once again landed on the single flower abandoned on the floor.
My mouth fell as the edges of the pristine petals withered, a sickly gray consuming the color like a disease. I watched until no red remained, a scent of smoke replacing the floral. I’d never seen anything like it.
When I reached down to grasp what remained, my fingers swept through ashes, the form of the flower crumbling to nothing.
Dark magic.
Backing away from the remains, I stumbled down the steps, pretending all the while that I didn’t smell like smoke. That I hadn’t been the cause of the bloom’s ruin.
Lies, like dreams, tended to turn into nightmares.