Chapter 28 #3
The toaster dinged, a welcome distraction.
She prepared two plates—he supposed she never got dinner, either, just coordinated it for everyone else at the conference.
That reminded him of what she’d said in the quiet moment before the storm, as they stood in the twilight talking about responsibilities they’d never sought.
She, presumably, was not to blame for hers.
“How long have you wanted out?” he asked.
She took a sip of water. “Out?”
“From the League. Or from helping to run it, anyway.”
Her snort was rueful. “A while. I hate politics. And I’m left with no time to myself.”
“Does your sister know?”
“Of course not. This is everything to her. And it is important work, so I feel”—she considered her fork—“selfish for wishing I was doing something else.” She glanced at him. “I’ve never told anyone that.”
He swallowed, throat tight. Even after everything he’d done, the forced Vow, the broken trust, she felt some affinity with him—a bitter hint of what she might have felt, had he been braver. Better.
“Your secret is safe with me,” he said, eyes on his food.
They ate in silence. He was chewing the final bite when she asked, “What did you mean when you said you also wanted to stop doing something but kept going because you had no choice?”
“Just that.”
“You’re not going to explain.”
“No.”
She bit her lip. “Please tell me what you’re doing in Ellicott Mills.”
“Miss Harper—”
“I have to know what I’m aiding. Crimes? Treason?”
He supposed the government would see it that way. He hesitated, and she took that as an answer.
“Oh God,” she whispered.
“No—I promise you, I’m not doing anything you wouldn’t approve of.”
“Then tell me!” she said, her whisper harsh with urgency. “What are you trying to destroy? What?”
“Nothing! On my honor, which I swear I do have, I don’t want to destroy anything.”
She put a hand over her mouth, eyes wide. “Oh—oh, I’ve been seeing it the entirely wrong way.”
Good Lord, he’d made it worse.
“You’re not trying to blow something up.” She looked at him, and he couldn’t do anything but look back, heart thudding. “You’re trying to keep something from being blown up.”
The desire to tell all was so consuming that he had to put space between them. He jumped to his feet and barreled out of the kitchen.
Directly into Miss Knight.
“Leaving?” she said, stepping to one side.
“Actually,” Miss Harper murmured, holding the kitchen door open with her shoulder, “he’s staying the night. Thank you again, Omnimancer. And please don’t worry—I won’t be using the time to pepper you with questions.”
Miss Knight sighed. “We don’t need to be baby-sat. We really don’t.”
“No, no, he’s going to help us protect the house at—what, midnight?”
“Halfway between dusk and dawn,” he said. “About one o’clock, I should think.”
Miss Knight gave Miss Harper a conspiratorial smile. “The witching hour.”
“How appropriate,” she observed.
Peter jerked upright in his borrowed bed.
Someone was opening the door—the door he’d thought he’d locked.
Leaf, he needed a leaf. He grabbed several, fumbling in his rumpled coat in his haste, and extended his hand with a spell on his lips before realizing with a second start that the intruder was Miss Harper.
“Surprising a wizard can be hazardous to your health,” he muttered.
“I’m sorry—I can’t sleep. I thought you might be having the same problem.”
She sat at the other end of the bed, and he finally noticed she was wearing nothing but a pale shift like the one she had on when he kissed her in that troubling dream the night before.
Her hair, shot through with his magic, spilled over her shoulders.
His heart sped back up, this time for a very different reason.
“Something feels off about the way I’m casting.
” She frowned at the wall, clearly unaware of the effect she was having on him.
“The Vow tonight, then the security spells—I can’t tell you what’s wrong, but something is.
And all I can think is that the way I’ve been casting isn’t the way I did it when Lydia . ..”
Almost died hung in the air, unsaid.
He cleared his throat. “When is your conference over?”
“Three o’clock.”
“Come over afterward and we’ll run some tests.”
She shook her head in a distinctly apologetic way. “No, I—I can’t continue trespassing on your time like this. I don’t know how I’m supposed to repay you as it is.”
He could think of several possibilities, which just underscored that he needed to get her out of the room now.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t even be telling you,” she added. “I just ... needed to.” She looked away. “And while I’m at it, you were absolutely right about Wizard Garrett. It wasn’t me he was interested in.”
The words tumbled out: “No, I was wrong. He’s in love with you.”
Her “what?” echoed his own internal reaction. What had he been thinking? Now he had to explain, damn it. “I saw how he looked at you. I don’t think he could fake it that convincingly.”
She raised a skeptical eyebrow. “You saw it from the car?”
“I crawled out the window and got within a few yards of you,” he admitted.
He expected an explosion—how dare he watch such a private moment. Or perhaps joy that her feelings for Garrett were reciprocated.
“Ah,” she said.
“Ah?”
She shrugged. Sighed. “I’ll never know how he really feels. But it doesn’t matter. Even if I did want to get married, it wouldn’t be to a man who sees a terrible injustice and says, ‘Here’s the solution—be a good little girl and stop asserting yourself.’”
He laughed. She’d surprised it right out of him.
“His employer is doing this. His own unit. And he doesn’t think it’s bad enough to quit over.” She was breathing harder now, no longer dispassionate. “Well, you left. And you haven’t questioned why Lydia is pushing ahead, not once—you’re giving us a fighting chance. So fuck him!”
Her cheeks flamed red. She looked as dismayed as he’d felt a moment earlier when he’d inexplicably said what he was thinking.
“Um—that is …” she murmured, looking at her lap. He made the mistake of following her gaze and stared, transfixed, at the way her shift pooled around her legs. “I just wanted you to know you’re the better man.”
He swallowed. “No, I’m not. Because I desperately want to take that nightdress off you.”
The room went so silent he could hear nothing but his heartbeat thudding in his ears. This wasn’t happening. Where in the hell had his internal censor gone?
She jumped to her feet. He tried to look away, to let her leave unwatched, but couldn’t. And so he had a perfect view as she untied the bodice of the shift in one quick movement.
The dress slipped off her shoulders and puddled at her feet, leaving her in nothing but underwear and the necklace he’d just charmed. In that charged moment when he was too shocked to do anything but gape at her, she slipped under the covers and kissed him.
She tasted like fruit, sweet and sharp. He tangled one hand in her hair and trailed the other up the smooth skin of her thigh. She moaned, and everything from his ears to his toes tingled in response.
Then she unbuttoned his shirt and time seemed to speed up. Off came her underwear. Off came his. She pressed against him, the moment before the moment, and in that last chance, he grasped just enough of his shattered self-restraint to say, “No—wait—”
And he jerked upright in the borrowed bed, instantly awake. Alone. Shirt buttoned. Pants on.
It had been a dream.