32. Guildford #2
I thought he might hold me off, but after that bare pause, his arm bent, letting me nearer.
I let go of his forearm with one hand and wrapped that arm around his waist once I got close enough, pressed my face to his chest. I felt him flinch a second time when I first did it, then gradually start to lose hold over that control thing of his.
His magic began to open more.
Heat flooded into me, making it difficult to breathe, but the relief I felt was so much bigger.
He’d either been depleted the other night, or holding back then, too, or else I needed it more now…
whatever the reason, I felt so much of him this time, I found myself wrapping my other arm around him, too.
His magic flooded into me, but I could still feel him fighting to control it, conscious of not hurting me after what Mordopast and the others had done. When his hand dropped from my neck and both of his arms wrapped around my waist, I held him tighter.
He pulled his magic back somewhat, and I bit my lip to keep from protesting.
He didn’t let me go.
His magic didn’t close either, but continued to swim like a fiery cloud around both of us. He held me tightly against the length of his body, and lowered his mouth to my neck.
“You saw that newspaper,” he said softly in my ear. “I saw you in your old kitchen, looking at it. Why would you even touch me after seeing that?”
I thought about that. I tried to answer him honestly. In the end, I could only shrug.
“You haven’t explained it to me yet,” I said. “I don’t know who that person was.”
I felt something in him relax, almost against his will.
“Do you want to talk about it now?” he asked.
“I think you do,” I answered.
There was a silence where he held me tighter for a moment longer, then gradually began to let me go. He cupped my face in his hands, leaned down, and kissed me on the mouth.
“It was Mordopast,” he said, his voice grim. “Vlad’s father.”
I tensed, then gripped his wrists and arms in my hands. Tears came to my eyes, before I could stop them, and I nodded. “Okay,” I said. “Didn’t you get in trouble for that?”
Bones’s jaw clenched. For a few seconds, he looked away, then his eyes returned to mine.
“I’m not sure Malefic knows yet,” he said, his voice neutral.
“It was in the news, Bones,” I pointed out.
“I mean, I’m not sure he knows who it was.
” Bones continued to stroke my face with his fingers as he glanced towards the burning city.
“He knows I killed someone. Believe me, he’s happy abut that, and the reporters are happy to have finally gotten me being a murderer on camera.
The shot pleased Orrin and Sirena, too. They were running around showing everyone and drinking me toasts when they saw the early edition.
Everyone is happy, and no one has asked me yet, who it was. ”
“But surely they’ll find out?” I said.
He shrugged again. “I don’t care.”
Frowning, he looked at me.
“Maybe I care a little,” he conceded. “If only for Arcturus’s sake.
I tried to take precautions. I changed his appearance just before his death.
I took his family crest ring, and I’m sure it will be stripped of the rest of his jewelry and most of his clothing before anyone in Dark Cathedral notices Mordopast is gone.
Even if they stumble upon the body before it gets tossed into a grave, it’s possible they won’t figure it out. ”
His voice grew bitter as he looked back over the burning skyline.
“There will be a lot of dead bodies by the end of tonight, Leda. One old man won’t stand out, as long as there’s no reason for him to think he’s one of theirs.”
I watched his face, seeing the smear of blood dried onto his skin.
“Why were they so surprised you’d killed someone?” I asked, softer. “Aren’t you supposed to be Malefic’s weapon?”
He didn’t answer. I saw his jaw tic, and that was enough to answer my question.
“You’ve not been killing people, have you?” I asked quietly. “It’s all bollocks. This whole, ‘Bones Heir As Mass Murderer’ story, it’s just an invention by Malefic to scare the shit out of everyone. Isn’t it?”
Bones let out a humorless scoff, his eyes cold.
“That’s quite the technicality,” he said drily, giving me a sideways glance.
His eyes returned to the burning skyline.
“I’ve cleared the way for them to go in and kill and rape and hurt whoever they wanted,” he growled.
“My fires have wounded people, collapsed buildings on people.” His eyes met mine, like gold ice.
“Trust me, wife, I’ve killed. I’ve got plenty of blood on my hands, as desperate as you are to wash it off. ”
He looked away, his jaw hardening back to granite.
I tugged on his arm until he looked at me.
“Okay.” I watched his eyes flinch, right before they narrowed. “Okay,” I repeated. “I won’t argue with you. But I know why you’re doing it, Bones. So does Arcturus.” I swallowed. “So does your mum.”
His mouth hardened. He looked away, and a faint whisper of dark humor crossed his face as he shook his head. His mouth still had a faint quirk in it when he looked down at me again.
“I suspect you’re right,” he said. “For Arcturus and my mother, at least.”
I considered asking him what he meant by that, but he’d already bent his neck and head towards me.
He kissed my face. He kissed me again and again, across my cheeks, the edge of my jaw, the corners of my mouth and eyes.
Somewhere in that, my mouth found his and we were kissing for real.
He paused only once, and by then he had pulled me deeper into the copse of trees that ringed the hilltop where he’d brought me.
“Why weren’t you wearing your bracelet?” he murmured against my mouth. “Or carrying the talisman Alaric gave you?”
I felt myself flush, and my jaw hardened.
“I overslept,” I admitted.
He stared at me for a few seconds. I saw the instant understanding reached his eyes, and a second later, I realized how he’d interpreted my words. I wrapped my hand around the back of his neck and gripped him tightly before he could pull away.
“It wasn’t your fault,” I warned.
He smiled, but it didn’t touch his eyes. “How many times are you going to tell yourself that, wife, before it starts to ring hollow?”
Anger rippled through my magic, sharpening my voice.
“How long are you going to pretend that everything that goes wrong in the world is something you have control over?” I snapped.
When he only looked away, shaking his head, my fingers tightened around his neck.
“Has it occurred to you that it’s a little demeaning, you acting like every mistake I make is somehow your responsibility?
None of this would be happening if I’d killed him like I should have, that day in your room. ”
Bones turned to stare at me, and that time, he actually looked startled.
“I hesitated,” I said, realizing the truth of my words, even as I spoke them. “I went for his arm, not his neck. By the time I realized my mistake and tried again, it was too late. The Praecuri were already there, and your father had locked himself in the loo. I had one chance, and I balked.”
“That’s ludicrous,” he growled at me.
I shook my head. “No. It’s not. Certainly not any more ludicrous than you blaming yourself, when you’re not able to harm him at all.”
He stared at me, breathing harder. His fingers tightened in my hair. “You’re angry at yourself because you’re not a murderer?”
I let out a harsh laugh. “Not a murderer?” I scoffed. “How many people have died because Malefic is still alive? How many more will die if he gets his ‘Great Ritual’? Would you be doing any of this, if I’d taken care of Malefic when I should have?”
He stared at me, his expression conflicted. I could tell the thought had never crossed his mind, not like that, and he didn’t seem to know how to argue against it, although I could clearly see he wanted to.
“I love you,” I told him, cutting him off. “I didn’t want to kill your father because I loved you, even then.” I motioned at him in the black uniform, covered in ash and smoke and blood. My throat closed. “So I did this to you instead.”
He caught hold of me, and pressed me up against the tree.
He kissed me, and pressed his face against mine.
I didn’t fully realize what I’d said until he kissed me again, on the mouth that time, using his tongue.
The kiss deepened, and his magic flooded into mine before I could take a breath.
I felt pain in it, heat, longing, but more devastating than any of that were the softer emotions that flooded over me, eclipsing everything else.
The intensity behind it shocked me enough that I moaned.
He stopped long enough to take off the coat, and let it drop to the ground.
When he got close enough, I started unfastening the front of his shirt and he kissed me again, flooding so much magic through the kiss my whole body felt like liquid fire.
His gold tattoos already glowed faintly below his collarbones.
I traced them with my fingers as he wrapped his arms under my legs, and lifted me up.
He stared at my eyes, and something in that gaze stabbed at my heart.
His eyes slid down the rest of me next, and I saw heat grow in his gaze.
I’d borrowed clothes from Jolie and Miranda all weekend, so I’d forgotten what I was wearing.
I’d had nothing with me but the dark green trousers and white shirt I wore to meet them after breakfast that morning, both of which got ruined, but now I wore a dark purple dress Miranda insisted went perfectly with my eyes.
“She’s right,” he said, gruff, and reached between us to slide two fingers inside me up to the knuckle. “You look insanely fuckable right now.”
I let out an involuntary cry and arched against his hand.
“Does it make me a prick to notice that, after you just got hurt?” he asked.
I shook my head, gasping as I clasped his neck.