I gasp, eyes wide. My arm goes numb and a flicker of panic seizes my heart. I should tell Lucas to run, save himself, but then, a warm shiver of recognition stills my tongue.
I don’t dare breathe. Throwing caution to the wind, I swirl my arms in a practiced sequence, hissing an old, almost forgotten rune’s name. The magic disentangles from my essence and bows into an arched doorway. I grab Lucas’ hand, push him across first, then step through.
The wards seal shut behind us.
Lucas eyes the perimeter, the moonlight reflecting in them. “Nifty trick.”
It was no trick. My heart hammers in a nearly painful rhythm, my throat tightening. It was a password given to me years ago when I couldn’t bear to stay within the walls of my childhood home. This place was my haven, a shelter from a harsh father.
I turn, eyes trained on the not-too-distant estate, the long rooftop spires glinting in the moonlight. Something I wish was dead sprouts in my heart. Tiny, delicate roots push through the hardened exterior to touch something soft. I shiver, body tightening. Without another word, I reach for Lucas and pull him forward.
Rows and rows of gardens lie before us, some meticulously manicured, others wild and thick with magics. A healthy population of sprites and pixies inhabit the Bauer grounds. They flicker and bob like oversized fireflies through the foliage. Yellows, pinks, and oranges all dance together beneath the moonlight. Utterly breathtaking to watch.
Lucas and I move like wraiths within the gardens, hands held tightly to keep from separating. Our charms keep all the creatures oblivious to our presence. My fingers brush against the benches, haunted by ghosts of Rossana and Viola laughing, while Emilia, Valen, and I played games in the hedges. Alasdair used to follow me on those occasions, but quickly stopped when I would hide that ugly bear he used to drag around everywhere in the thorn bushes.
The two women were menaces and would egg us children on, encouraging wild feats of cheating and loudly accusing each other of their own schemes. My favorite trick of Viola’s to use during hide and seek was her illusory doppelgangers. Casting the spell drained me horrifically of energy, but Viola’s beam of pride when a gaggle of false Astorias pranced around the hedges was well worth Valen and Emilia’s ire.
I blink the mist away from my eyes, swallowing to ease the tightness in my throat. My eyes lift back to the shadow of the massive estate looming heavily over them. Somewhere within is Valen, who never erased my password in case I needed to escape, even after I stole the hair from him.
If Lucas wasn’t an absolute master of his craft, I’d be more disturbed by how easy it was to break into the Bauer estate. It’s what attracted the Amur to the magician in the first place. When I hesitated, Lucas pushed forward. When I paused at a haunting memory, Lucas’ fingers squeezed mine and brought me back. He was thorough, too. He set spider-silk thin threads along the halls, so fine that they are nearly indetectable, to alert us of anyone approaching.
Vincentius’ office is the same as I remember. The richly dark hues of the office’s ink green walls, the deep brown wood of the massive desk with its intimidatingly large winged red leather chair behind it. The ruby red and gold brocades of the rug’s floral design used to be my favorite in the house and the urge to stretch out on it is overwhelming. The entire wall devoted to ancient texts that I read from end to end is still there and it hurts to not scan the titles. But on the adjacent wall is the velvet couch, and behind it, the secret door and our reason for coming.
My eyes devour the room while buried memories press demandingly against my psyche. I slowly circle Vincentius’ office, fingers itching to run along the familiar objects. I clasp my hands over my stomach instead, but it does nothing to stop the nostalgia. This was… home.
I used to share Vincentius’ lap with Emilia as he sat at the massive desk and showed us the newest artifacts for his museum. Those times were my fondest memories, and my throat closes as my fingers break free to brush the desk’s leather ink blotter.
Lucas’ soft whisper breaks through my reverie. “Hey, the wards.”
I blink, fingers lifting before I realize he means the wall. I turn away from the desk in an attempt to focus. Lucas, on the other hand, wastes no time dragging the couch away, careful to make as little sound as possible as he manhandles it solo.
I manage to make it across the room but stop to trail trembling fingertips along the couch’s soft edging. It’s the same one I used to sit on with Rossana to practice incantations. Rossana, who had her own two children to worry over, never failed to be a mother to me. A replacement to help ease the loss of the one that was taken.
So much has been stolen from me, the reminder setting my teeth on edge. A mother, a father, a husband, and a home. All of it. The betrayal by the father figure I held in such high regard steadies some of my quavering nerves. My fingers drop away and I join Lucas to begin.
I wave my palm over the wall, magic rippling through the wards. Lucas moves forward, his brown eyes searching the magic. His rings flare as his fingers flex. Gold threads pierce the woven magical fabric of protection and curses. He works slowly, meticulously. His brows furrow, fingers rippling and threads shivering in response.
It’s mesmerizing to watch. My eyes darken, senses tingling as Lucas teases apart the enchantments strip by strip. He lowers himself down until he’s on his knees so that his arms remain in position while his fingers dance. Then sits on his heels. His jacket strains against his shoulders. The concentration. The mastery. My teeth sink into my bottom lip, hand sliding over the smooth fabric of the couch to steady myself.
Warning bells go off in my mind as one of Lucas’ spider-silk threads within the hallway snaps. Lucas’ too, judging by his hiss of pain when an errant curse lashes against its golden tether. I whip around, facing the locked door. Someone is coming.
My heart hammers, pumping adrenaline through my system. Lucas flinches, whispering harshly, “I can’t break out. I’m in too deep.”
I don’t tear my eyes off the door. “Don’t move. Stay down there and don’t fucking stop until you’re done.” My voice dips. “I’ve got this.”
I wave my hand and hiss an enchantment to life. The air shimmers. An illusion blooms forth. A copy of the wall appears directly behind the out-of-position couch, hiding Lucas and all evidence that anything is amiss.
My mind clears, the urgency of the task centering me. The lock on the office clicks and I run, sliding into the desk’s leather chair before the door handle twists. The hold I have on my disguise gives out, my long hair cascading down around my shoulders. I go to kick up my feet, but it’s too late. The door swings open and the kick turns into a leg crossed at the knee.
Valen enters the room, a book in his hand, his head bowed over it. I can practically see the cogs of his mind grinding away at an unanswered question. He doesn’t look up, probably so assured of the wards, that he would never guess that I’m in here, or that a renowned thief is sizzling away at the hidden library’s protections.
I try to pretend I don’t notice how absolutely delectable my former paramour looks. Even in his home in the middle of the night, he wears well-fitted trousers and a crisp shirt that he’s rolled up to his elbows. The tendons in his arms flex slightly as he turns the book in his hand. My tongue slides over my bottom lip.
I want to mess up his slicked hair more than I want to breathe. When he first came to my shop, he caught me off guard. Then at the park, his confessions overwhelmed me. Now it’s my turn, and the siren’s call to turn the tables is too powerful to ignore.
The door clicks shut. My lips curl into a cat’s smile. “Up so late on a school night?”
Valen stumbles. His large, wide eyes flick up to me, the glowing blue near silver from the intensity of his magic’s surge. I wiggle my fingers in greeting.
