The Coveted, page 11
She reached out, and I stepped forward to take her hands in mine. I threw one last look over my shoulder at Daelon, whose features had transformed back to stony and guarded. But, as I channeled a bit of magick, tuning into the frequency of travel and movement, I heard his real thoughts quite clearly.
Remember who you belong to.
Right back at you.
In a flash we were back in my bedroom, and Taryn stumbled. I steadied her, and I couldn’t help but grin at the excitement in her aura.
“What are you smiling about?” she asked, smiling back.
Oops. I wasn’t supposed to be able to read her energy. “Just amused at your awe.”
She shrugged a shoulder. “I’m sure you’re used to it,” she said, her eyes inquisitive. For just a moment her energy reflected back a white light all too familiar, and I could tell she was desperate to know why I was so powerful. She wanted to know why she was drawn to me—why I reminded her of a home she never knew. I had awakened something inside of her that she didn’t understand, and it saddened me that I had to keep her in the dark.
For now.
“What’s human sex like?” Christine, the girl who’d sat on Lucius’s lap in the throne room, asked me. We sat at a dining table in Christine’s chambers, which were decorated in hues of rose gold and extremely luxurious. The glass table was lined with untouched sweets and hors d'oeuvres. I was the only one not drinking elixir. “And is it true that all human men pay currency to watch other people they don’t even know have it?” she continued. She then fired off a couple of other questions that made me almost spit out my tea.
“Um, it works the same, I’d say,” I said to answer the first question, weary of all the eyes on me. “To your second question, I’d say sort of, but that’s not universal. And no to your third and fourth… at least not for everyone.” I wasn’t really up for explaining the ins and outs of internet porn at noon.
“But it isn’t as good, I’d imagine,” Taryn said, eyeing me knowingly. “Because they’re prudish. And the men only care about their own pleasure.”
The women all wrinkled their noses and stared at me expectantly.
I gulped another mouthful of tea. “I don’t think it’s that generalizable, but yes, those are some real… issues.” My experience with witch sex was definitely better than human, but I couldn’t say that without them digging deeper until they figured out the only person who I could’ve possibly tested out that theory with. And also, I was pretty sure my experience was more so about Daelon himself than anything else. With him, there was a level of intimacy that I couldn’t even imagine sharing with any other soul.
There were six women here other than me and Taryn. I’d already forgotten some of their names, but I remembered Christine, Serena, and Jasmine. Serena was the oldest, probably in her mid-thirties, with curly blond hair. She was much more reserved than the others, which was why she was already my favorite. Jasmine had beautiful, long black hair and light brown skin—and she bore a great deal of resemblance to the Disney princess of the same name, which was amusing only to me.
Christine blinked at me, unsatisfied. Her energy recoiled and turned gray, and her tiny, delicate features glassed over with boredom. “Why aren’t you drinking?” she asked faux-sweetly, and all eyes were back on me.
Well, I was clearly already failing at this. I forced a smile, relaxing my shoulders. “It was just a bit too intense for me the first time I tried it.” It might’ve been the wrong thing to say, because I was met with incredulity.
“That’s what Lucius says,” Christine murmured, and my heart stopped, but soon she shifted her gaze to the ornate, rose-tinted crystal chandelier above us. “He had a renowned decorator manifest that for me. Isn’t it wonderful?” She looked at us expectantly until the ladies mirrored her enthusiasm. She smirked, tapping her long, pink fingernails on the glass table.
Manifest? Like when I conjured that dagger out of thin air when I was trying to kill Lucius? I definitely wanted to ask Daelon or Amos about that later. There was still so much I had to learn.
“Renata!” Jasmine exclaimed, jumping up from her seat next to me when a woman entered the room and stepped to us.
Taryn cast a glance my way from across the table, and I stiffened. The woman smiled softly. She had dark brown hair that fell past her shoulders in waves, light, grayish-blue eyes, and a slim frame. She was very pretty, and even though I knew it was unfair and childish, her beauty annoyed the shit out of me. So much for being an evolved, mystical being of ethereal light.
Lucius said she’d been persistently asking about Daelon, which juxtaposed harshly with Daelon’s insistence that their relationship was long past and meaningless. My power stirred, and the cutlery and fine china began to rattle lightly on the white tablecloth. Now Taryn was really staring at me, cocking her head slightly. I took a deep breath as Renata joined us at the opposite side of the table, and the ladies all exchanged puzzled glances. I worked through a quick grounding technique, taking back control. I was shocked something so minor made me lose stability that easily. After Daelon’s training, I thought I’d become exceptionally good at detaching my emotions from my power. In this place, I couldn’t afford any more magickal outbursts.
“The King must be up to something?” Jasmine said with a frown, and the others shrugged and nodded in agreement.
Something about unleashing that tiny bit of power reminded me who I was, and I clung to that feeling rather than the petty jealousy of my ego. I stared at Renata to find she was already looking my way.
“Hi, I’m Áine,” I said, letting confidence lace my words even if I didn’t quite feel it.
Her smile didn’t reach her eyes. “Renata.” She paused, looking me over as if conducting a risk assessment. “So, you’re the reason the Commander was away for so long.”
This piqued the table’s interest, and I remembered how Taryn said rumors were flying. I still had no idea what those had been. “I suppose I was.”
Christine snapped her fingers, and soon a servant appeared with a glass of elixir. She pointed to Renata, whose hand was already outstretched.
“He found me in the human realm,” I said. I cursed myself for not ever getting our story straight about what supposedly happened in Lucius’s fake narrative. But then again, these people were used to being in the dark. They were all drinking plenty of magickal happy juice, anyway.
“I heard you fucked,” Christine blurted, in her apparently characteristic crass fashion. Renata pursed her lips. “And now you hate each other, probably because you discovered what the rest of us already have.” She raised her brows.
Taryn set down her glass a bit too forcefully. “And what would that be, Christine?” she asked sweetly, but her aura was spitting fire. Renata looked like she wanted to speak, her aura hot and red like Taryn’s, but she stayed silent.
Christine looked at the others for support. “Well, that there’s something not quite right about him. He’s strange. And cold. I mean look at how he treated Renata, over here.”
Renata opened her mouth then closed it. She took a sip of her drink, and then finally found her voice. “He treated me just fine,” she said, a double-meaning in her tone that kind of made me want to cause another earthquake. “He just wants nothing to do with me now, I suppose.”
“Well, he is basically Lucius’s brother,” Taryn pointed out, leaning back in her chair.
I tried hard not to make a face, but her words were effective in shutting Christine up. It was apparent that no one wanted to be caught questioning the King or anyone close to him.
“You should ask him to escort you to the ball,” Christine said quickly to Renata while continuing to seethe at Taryn, her features taut.
Renata took another swig. “Maybe I will.”
Um, no you will not, I thought. And… ball? They were a little too committed to this out-of-touch aristocracy bit. I might’ve needed some special witch ecstasy after all.
“Have any witches caught your eye, Áine?” Serena asked, her voice softer than the others. She had a very relaxed and light aura, which was a breath of relief from everyone else’s intensity. “For fun or otherwise?”
Renata looked at me a bit more expectantly than the rest, and I struggled with how to answer.
“Sebastian invited her to the art gallery,” Taryn said quickly, saving me. “She’s yet to give in to my charms.”
Serena chuckled, but Christine made a sour face and looked down at her drink. She really didn’t like Taryn, which made me like Taryn even more.
“Sebastian is sweet, and his gift is quite the party trick. But he’s like a honeybee flying from flower to flower, convinced that each will be sweeter and more beautiful than the last,” Serena explained.
“I think we all know men like that,” I said.
“Isn’t that the truth?” Renata blurted. “I’ll drink to that.” She raised her glass, and the others followed.
I really didn’t like the implication of her words, but I tried to put it aside. Daelon didn’t seem at all like that kind of man, but he also alluded to all kinds of things about his past that made my stomach crawl. Like about how his encounters with women never involved being gentle or real feelings… Was this a part of the past he feared showing me? The things he did to survive?
“Wasn’t Sebastian with Lucius for a bit?” Jasmine asked Christine, causing Christine to purse her lips. I was starting to gather that the witches here had no concept of rigid sexual orientations or gender expression, which I made careful note of in my mental anthropological field journal. I mean, I had two Goddess-worshipping female witches for parents… so the concept of fluidity wasn’t exactly groundbreaking.
Lucius being with anyone of any gender was rather nauseating, however.
Christine seemed exceptionally proud of holding the King’s attention, from her pretty chandelier to her role as his lap dog to be cast aside at will. It made me want to throw up all over her white tablecloth. I couldn’t imagine being so infatuated with someone who was turned on by suffering and had nightly orgies. Not to mention Lucius didn’t seem like the affectionate type, nor did he seem like he cared enough to pretend.
“Who hasn’t been?” Christine answered, pulling me back from my ruminations. She raised her glass to her lips and downed the rest of its shimmery contents.
Taryn widened her eyes and shook her head, as if to say: me, that’s who. We exchanged a knowing look, which made her smile. I didn’t think she was used to having people on her side.
“And who wouldn’t want to be?” Christine continued after a swig. “His power… it’s intoxicating. He’s a god among witches.”
More like a malignancy, I thought. He had them all drugged up and under his spell. I wanted to shake all of them awake, but I knew it wasn’t time yet.
“Those of us who are monogamous, for starters. Some of us are satisfied with just one person,” Serena murmured, getting a faraway look in her eyes.
“Ew,” Christine said, and Taryn actually wrinkled her nose in agreement for the first time. “You and Abraham will not infect the rest of us with your soulmate nonsense, thank you very much. Might as well start praying to crystals and showing up to dinner nude.”
“I think it’s sweet,” Renata said softly, but no one paid her any attention.
Serena ignored Christine, turning her attention to me. “I’m glad you finally joined us. We’ve all been so curious. You’re quite the mystery.”
The hostess mustered a reluctant nod. “So, Áine. Why would you ever watch strangers having sex when you could just have sex yourself?” she asked, coming full circle. “Oh, and is it true that human cocks—”
Nope. It was time to enact one of Taryn’s escape plans.
Chapter 10
Taryn was more than happy to pick out an outfit for my afternoon with Sebastian, as I still didn’t understand the castle’s unspoken clothing rules. All I knew was that my reflection in the mirror was far too extravagant for a casual afternoon in an art gallery. I was dressed in a long, blush pink dress with a tight, corseted top that pushed up my breasts, sheer sleeves, and a tulle skirt with a dotting of shimmering detail along its front. My copper hair was in loose waves, my lips and cheeks a delicate pink. The dress was gorgeous, but I had to wonder: Did these people really never want to just chill out in some sweatpants?
“I thought the dance was later this week,” I muttered.
“It’s just for dinner,” she replied, as if that explained the styling.
The castle’s labyrinth of corridors was still impossible to understand, and I was entirely convinced they changed each day. We walked down a few flights of stairs, and soon we stood in front of a tall, open entrance. Beyond two golden pillars lay marble sculptures, and as we walked closer, they began to move. A nude man was filling a pitcher of water, and a woman was dancing sensually. Art seemed to take on a life of its own here.
“Whoa,” I murmured when I stepped inside the gallery. I was barely aware of Taryn telling me to have fun, leaving me all alone with the magickal art.
My nerves about being alone with a noble I barely knew vanished as I spun around the grand, golden room. Paintings, from several feet tall to the size of a notebook, lined the walls. In my periphery they were stationary, but as soon as they felt my gaze, they sprang to life. Some were abstract and only conveyed feelings and energy, while others were like the recounting of a memory or an entire imagined scene. As soon as my consciousness met each piece of art, it came alive for all of my senses, physical and psychological. It was… like nothing I could put into words.
“Beautiful,” sounded a man’s voice behind me.
I turned to face Sebastian, who was leaning against one of the white pillars. He was dressed in a baby blue suit, which made him look rather like Prince Charming. His blond hair fell in loose waves, and he showed a playful, dimpled smile. His aura was easy, like an ocean breeze, but the same deeper red lurked beneath like the other night. His energy crept toward me, flirting with my own.
“Yes,” I said, closing off my connection now that I knew he was no threat. “I’ve never seen art so… multidimensional.”
He shook his head lightly. “Oh, no, I was talking about you.”
I forced a smile, but I felt a pang in my gut. I wasn’t sure how to navigate this situation. On the one hand, I needed to keep up appearances to divert attention away from Daelon and me, especially if Nathaniel was trying to convince Lucius there was something still between us. On the other hand… well, Daelon. This would be sure to test his need for control, just as Renata clearly tested mine.
“Come, let me show you what I’m working on,” he said, with a childlike enthusiasm that was infectious. He pushed off the pillar and clasped his hands behind his back.
He led me through more rooms of paintings and sculptures, but one room in particular stopped me in my tracks. The ceiling was vaulted and the room spacious. Tall windows filled the space with light, and the gardens lay beyond. I had the most peculiar feeling as I looked from the tall paintings of meadows, oceans, and mountains, to the sculptures of men, women, and children performing magick, to the artifacts encased in glass cases at the base of the walls, that I was being watched. Not by Sebastian, though. By something in the art itself…
“It’s right through here,” Sebastian said, turning back to me. His smile faltered when he realized I’d stopped following him. His brows drew together. “Oh my.”
The sculptures that lined the center of the room had stopped performing their rituals and tasks, all of them turning to face us. The energy embedded in their various media burst forth like a tsunami against a dam, and suddenly all of my senses became awakened with its crashing. Voices grew louder, frenzied, and exuberant, and the smell of delicate florals and crisp herbs filled the air. A wind blew my hair back. The light from beyond the tall windows grew brighter and warmer against my skin.
“They’re looking at you,” Sebastian said, his mouth agape. He looked from me to the sculptures, who were calm and focused, some smiling while others appeared to cry.
“They don’t usually do that?”
“Uh, well, no. This room almost never reveals its magick. It’s been stagnant and unchanging for many years, not since the Queen… well, maybe that’s why the King didn’t just burn it.”
“The Queen?” I waved my hand through the air, and the sculptures mirrored me.
“Lucius’s mother,” he murmured. “She passed around the time his father did.” He stared at me, and I realized that I was already failing at my vow to be inconspicuous. But how could I have possibly known that some witchy art would blow my cover?
I remembered the scene with a young Daelon and realized this bit of information at least helped my timeline of events. How do their deaths fit into the story? And why would this room come alive for his mother?
“Why would he have burned it?” I asked, but I already knew the answer.
“Because it’s heretic art, of course.” He shook his head. “Oh, right, I forgot about your circumstances. This is all new to you, isn’t it?”
I managed a nod. I walked over to a plaque that stood in the center of the room and read its shimmering gold lettering:
Works of the conquered heretics, a war-loving, uncivilized people whose magick grew barren in the face of the true Divine, our eternal Lord and King, Lucius the All-Powerful, he who gives us our strength and beauty, he who freed us from the old ways, who championed equality, fairness, and self-determination. This hall serves as a reminder of what happens to magick that is not divinely given, and to those who shun progress, peace, and truth.
I bristled, and the room echoed my discontent. My chest tightened with the sudden feeling of entrapment. Lucius stole things that were sacred, things that belonged to their native lands, not here… in this place of lies and cruelty. These pieces and artifacts yearned to go home, and all I could whisper back to their magick was so do I.
“I see,” I said, suddenly hyperaware of my audience. I felt my heart rate pick up as I turned around and mustered a smile.
