Chapter 17 #2
Some time later, I awoke with my head under the table, and I must’ve flipped in my sleep because my eyelids lifted to a view of Leland’s lap.
I blinked slowly at his jeans as I waited for the first wave of nausea, but it didn’t come.
My clothes weren’t soaked with sweat; I didn’t even have a headache.
How had he . . . ? I poked his leg to make sure this was really happening.
Something slid across the table, and the smell of coffee wafted down.
I sat up, blinking. “We’re still here,” I croaked. “That was really your leg.”
“It was.” He lifted my flask over the coffee mug he’d pushed in front of me.
Moonale? I nodded; he poured.
I tasted the coffee, and the sip stayed down. I could never drink anything this soon after waking up. I hadn’t been able to for months.
“How did you do it?” I asked.
“Do what?” He idly flipped a page of his text. He knew what.
“Stop pretending to read your book.” I set the mug down firmly. “How did you get rid of my nightmare?”
Leland lifted his eyebrows, feigning innocence. “Does that sound like a spell a Creator would have?”
“No.” But I know you did it. It was a dead end, though, so I moved on. “Where’s Aila?”
“Enjoying making me wait. I’d tell you why” — he tipped the flask over my mug and added more moonale to my coffee without asking — “but I don’t want to make you disappear.”
The next sip of coffee got lodged in my throat, the burn too strong to swallow. “I think I’m safe from that for the time being.” I patted my chest to help it go down. “Did you date her?”
“No.” He picked up his text, and I glimpsed the title. The Half Witch Experiments. “She thinks I cheated on her friend.”
“Did you?”
Leland didn’t answer except to say, “Drink your coffee, Ember.”
We went back to sitting in silence. He read his text.
I sipped the coffee because I had nothing else to do, until several waitstaff gathered in a huddle and whispered in the center of the room.
Occasionally, one would glance my way, and I felt rather than saw that Leland was eyeing them too.
Someone said, “They weren’t down before,” and the witch across from them nodded, adding, “We never have trouble with our wards.”
“I can hear you,” Leland announced in a tone of authority far more confrontational than any he’d ever used with me.
A few more minutes of workers exchanging nervous glances, and one had been nominated to address us. They strode our way, clenching and unclenching their hands. My palms began to sweat. I had no idea what it was about, but I had an inkling it had something to do with me.
“I — uh — apologies, Truth-Teller. There’s been a — uh — problem. With the wards.”
“So fix them,” Leland said. Stern. Strong.
“We — uh — can’t. And — ” They looked at me apologetically, prompting Leland to sit up straighter and twist his body to hide me in the shadow of his shoulder.
“They want the girl to leave. The wards went down after she got here, and she’s an Eight, so they believe it’s her.
I’m to — uh — escort the girl to the exit. ”
I started to stand, but Leland’s hand found my thigh and pinned me to the bench. I doubted he knew what it was doing to me, leaving my skin prickling and warm. But then he stroked his thumb —
No. I’d imagined that.
I shoved his hand off and didn’t attempt to get up again.
“She’s done nothing,” Leland said.
“She’s — uh — primed,” they stammered, “for dark magic.”
A velvet drawstring bag hit the table with a jarring clang.
Leland pushed it toward the end of the table, his muscular arms flexing threateningly.
“A hundred gold,” he said. “And we leave after our meeting. Or. I raise the question to the Echelon Jaxan D’Oron again.
Is it ethical to run a club exclusive to light witches?
Nothing else good is happening in the news right now.
Might be a good idea to give Everden something new to talk about. ”
He was deep into his public persona. Someone no one wanted to cross. I gave him a look, but he focused more on the server, as well as the ones in the background, and all the other threats in the room. The last time I saw him like this, we were in the prison.
“That . . . won’t be necessary, Truth-Teller.” They dipped their head in a slight bow, swiped up the bag of gold, and scurried back to their huddle. Another quick whisper, and the group dispersed, leaving us alone.
“Meeting’s not going to go well,” Leland said coolly. “If I need to grab you, I will. And if I say we go, we’re going.”
My blood stirred at the command in his tone, a little too much. I zipped up my jacket and changed the subject to take my mind off the way my body was reacting to him. “What was that you said about Dark Witches?”
“Ember.”
“Yes,” I groaned. “I heard you. I’ll cooperate when you decide it’s time to go. Now when were you going to tell me you like Dark Witches?”
“I neither like nor dislike them,” he said. “Dark Witches are just witches, and there are good and bad ones.” He added, more talkative now, “I dislike this club. This club, and many others, are warded against them. Dark Witches weren’t even allowed in Hartik’s Hollow until Jaxan was elected.”
I couldn’t hide my surprise at that. That Jaxan was responsible for anything good . . .
“Do you dislike it,” Leland asked, misunderstanding my shock, “that I like some of them? That I think some of them are good?”
“No. I think the opposite.” I took my moonale flask and filled my empty coffee mug to the brim. “But you shoving me in my seat and bossing around a server was . . .” Not unattractive. “Unnecessary.”
“So was you standing up. You belong here as much as anyone.”
“Is that on the record?” said a nearby voice at the same time I smelled something burning and metallic.
Suddenly, two female witches were sitting across from Leland. I was pretty sure they’d approached with Invisibility, but if Leland was at all surprised by them sneaking up on us, it didn’t show.
At their arrival, one of the staff members began to walk over to our table, probably to approve the outside-of-party interaction, but Leland held up his hand and told them to stop.
“Sure,” Leland said, Privacy eliminating every sound outside the radius of our table.
“Sell the information to Farrah Prolix and see what happens. Though it’s worth noting I can Vanish your entire aspiring artifacts enterprise in one spell, and the Echelon Jaxan D’Oron’s party is steering the Council now.
So, if you still want that second location .
. .” He smiled at the way the witch with pale, white skin and rosy cheeks stiffened.
“Good. Ember, this is Aila Foxcross and her girlfriend, Ari. Aila’s a Creator.
Ari’s an Enchantress. Aila, Ember is the witch who needs magic suppressants. ”
“We know who she is,” Aila said sharply.
Though only to Leland. When she looked at me, her face softened.
She was the same smart kind of pretty as Ash.
Her auburn hair fell flat around her shoulders, and she wore simple, silver eyeglasses, the thin frames blending seamlessly with her delicate features.
“You were the last witch to see Trist, weren’t you? ”
“Yes. But I didn’t — ”
“We know,” Aila said.
Realizing I was still pressed against Leland, my hair untidy from my nap, I scooted an inch to the right and smoothed my hair with a hand, trying to ignore my chest clenching like I’d lost the one thing I’d stay in a burning building to grab.
Just one inch to the right, and my blood had to protest. I tried to keep my face from showing it, but Aila saw.
I got the impression she saw most things.
“Did you bring the gold?” Aila asked Leland. A snake poked its head out of her satchel and hissed.
I gave it a weak smile of acknowledgment, wondering why everyone Leland associated with was a Seven. Ash, Trist, Aila. Skye, potentially. And me, for lack of a better term.
“A thousand, we said?”
My mouth popped open.
A thousand gold?
This whole meeting was taking place in Privacy, with Aila on edge and an Enchantress who helped them enter invisibly.
Not to mention the nature of our meeting location, a place where every server’s memory was wiped at the end of the day.
My thoughts flashed to all the long-sleeved shirts Skye had picked out for me, at what I now guessed was Leland’s instruction.
To keep my wrists covered and the magic suppressants concealed.
I didn’t think magic suppressants were rare.
In that moment, I realized they were illegal.
Aila placed a white shopping bag on the table and stood in synchrony with Ari. “I have no others if she burns through them.”
Leland tossed Aila the heavy sack of gold, and she caught it in her satchel without a thought, her lips pursed as she settled the satchel’s strap on her shoulder.
“It’s been a pleasure, Leland. Tell Vyra” — she looked directly at me, though she was definitely speaking to him — “that we say hi. And I hope her voice has recovered from all the moaning last night I’m certain wasn’t real. ”
Moaning?
Vyra was with Leland and moaning?
Everything went to hell.
My blood was scorching, mere seconds away from what I knew came next, glitching followed by an unwanted tug to the ether.
Leland cast Pitch Black, drowning out all light. His arm swung out, looping around my waist as he searched for my wrists and fixed the cuffs on me. The cold rings of iron were smooth on my skin, and Leland’s hands were firm, holding me steady against the hard wall of his side.
“Put the lights back on, Leland,” Aila said through her teeth.
His mouth dropped to my ear, and I gasped. “You don’t have these,” he whispered.
I shrugged away from the intimacy of his breath.
“Keep them hidden.”
“Lights!” Aila’s voice was sharp, threatening to rip him apart.