“Thank you.” Layla found herself speechless from Adam’s honesty. She glanced down at the silver hamsa-cuff on her left wrist, watching the bloody coral teardrop catch the chandelier lights. It seemed like it was grinning at her and Layla adjusted the cuff, turning it over so she looked at the enameled patterns on the back. But all the same, her wrist throbbed beneath the cuff as if her magic was calling to be recognized. “Do you really think the Bind could be broken?”
Adam shrugged. “Before she died, my real mother Gallatea used to tell me that all magic could be undone. She didn’t believe in magical ultimatums. She’d seen a lot of binding-magics in her time, that she’d worked to break. Did I tell you my true mother was a Jud?”
Layla had heard the term before from a conversation with Rikyava, but still didn’t really know what that was. “What’s a Jud again?”
“Intercessoria Judiciary,” Adam explained. “Twilight Realm police – special forces. They get called in when someone’s magic does bad things. They’re the ones who undo bad shit, Layla, and help people who have been bound or harmed against their will.”
“Are you saying Adrian did something worthy of the attention of the Twilight Realm’s special forces when he bound me?” Layla frowned, feeling uneasy now.
“It wouldn’t be the first time.” Adam gave a shrug, though his gaze was dark. Adam leaned back with his elbows on the bar, watching her intently. “How much of this do you want to hear?”
“How much of what?”
“How much of what Adrian does is so not by the books.” Adam pinned her with his eyes, his teasing manner gone now as the green in his eyes darkened beneath the chandelier lights. “Adrian’s got ventures in a number of places, Layla. Some of those are supported by not-so-legal means. Tech espionage using various forms of magic. Smuggling rings for hard-to-get magical items. Private security in remote areas who use lethal force. I’m not party to most of it. But he’s called me in a time or two when he was in a bad spot because of a shady deal gone wrong. He deals with someverybad people at times, Layla. He’s made enemies… and not all his enemies are the bad guys.”
“Are you saying Adrian’s one of the bad guys?” Layla hoped to god it wasn’t true, her heart writhing in her chest at Adam’s words, a black pit of darkness opening inside her.
“I’m saying Adrian does what he has to, to get the results he wants.” Adam leaned forward, intense. “Like he did with you: tricking you in the gallery. Binding you to himself before you had any say in it. Making you think he was John LeVeque so he could get to know you. Yeah, I heard about that awful series of lies from Dusk. But you have to realize – that’s all par for the course with Adrian.”
Taking a deep breath, Layla watched Adam in the dim lights of the Gypsun bar. She took a drink not because she was nervous, but because the conversation troubled her. Either Adrian was as shady as Adam said and Adam was trying to be a friend, or… Adam had it in for Adrian, and this was a strong move to try and take Layla out of the game between himself and his Clan First.
Staring at Adam, Layla felt a moment breathe around them in the tight space of the bar as the singer, violist, and accordion player took up a new tune. The dinner crowd was thinning, moving out to the porch as the trio began a sad song that twisted Layla’s emotions into dark places. She felt something swirl between her and Adam – felt her energy caught in Adam’s smooth magics. But they were dark now rather than bright, like moonlight pouring over an autumn orchard where the fruit had already begun to fall.
She felt Adam’s energy caress her collarbone in that moment, like he had actually reached out and smoothed his fingers over her skin. Layla’s breath caught as she felt her Dragon stir deep inside her, allured by Adam’s honey-dark energy. His ethereal fingers eased over her shoulder, stroking her gently, sliding up under her chignon to caress her neck. It was erotic, and Layla’s eyelashes fluttered as she felt him caressing her nape with his smooth fingers of magic.
“I don’t want to see you get hurt, Layla,” Adam breathed, his hunter-green eyes penetrating as he touched her slowly with his power. “People tend to get hurt around Adrian. Especially those closest to him.”
“What do you mean?” Layla murmured, feeling a deep, slow eroticism surge inside her as the singer mourned her song. The sensuality of the Gypsun music released her into Adam’s passions, and Layla was breathing hard now from his touch as he stroked her neck with his orchard-dark magic. The scent of blossoms eased up around her, and Layla was suddenly drowning in Adam’s touch – and his power. Tendrils of wind curled around her; power breathed along her skin in a scintillating ripple. As good as Adrian could make his power feel, Adam could do also. And as he touched her with those ethereal hands, his actual hands still idle as he rested his elbows on the bar, Layla found herself surrendering to it, lifting her chin and closing her eyes at that gentle, dark power stroked her throat.
“I mean that you wouldn’t be the first girlfriend of Adrian’s to meet an untimely death.” Adam breathed gently as she succumbed to his touch. “Not even the fifth.”
Layla’s eyes blinked open. His words hit her like a punch and Layla’s throat gripped, her heart squeezing as the music’s sway intensified. Adam wasn’t threatening her, only trying to protect her – and yet. What he’d said undid his attentions, shocking Layla back to a hard reality. Her eyes stung suddenly, her heart screaming for a good cry over Adrian, but she didn’t want to give in to that here. Taking deep breath, Layla slid off her barstool to standing. Adam watched her, his green eyes deep. He rose also, his magics paused from stroking her neck.
“Please take me back.” Layla spoke low.
“I’m sorry if I upset you.” Adam’s gaze was deep as he reached out, stroking her cheek with his real fingers now, warm and smelling of a sweet apple-orchard in October.
“It isn’t your fault.” Layla gave a wry smile.
“Still.” Adam lowered his hand, his touch slipping from her skin. Reaching down, he cradled her left hand, gazing at the hamsa-cuff as he stroked his fingers over the red coral. “I would break this thing in a heartbeat. Set you free. Maybe we could find a way. If you want it.”
“Maybe.” Layla knit her brows. “I don’t know yet, Adam.”
“Of course.” He gave a wry smile then let her go, gesturing toward the doors. “Shall we?”
But in that moment, Layla paused, not quite knowing what she wanted. She wanted Adrian so hard it hurt. She wished it was him with her right now; that she could touch him and kiss him, or maybe hit him with all the tortured emotions rolling through her right now. She wanted to stay, to revel in the mournful music and sip bourbon and let it release her inner passions; release her Dragon so she could accept it.
But that would mean releasing herself into Adam’s arms – not Adrian’s.
Layla’s heart twisted. Some part of her just wanted to be back out in the night, riding on Adam’s motorcycle as the cold wind blew by. Riding far from the Hotel and Adrian and never looking back.
But most her just wanted to be home.
“Just take me home.” She spoke solidly. “Take me back to the Hotel.”
“Sure. Let’s go.” Adam spoke gently, watching her process. “But if you have any more questions, know that I’m here, Layla. I will always be here for you. All you have to do is ask.”
Adam gave her a low bow, formal and deep. Layla nodded and they turned, heading towards the door – her heart churning with far more questions than she’d started with.
