Burnt Magic, page 13
The intimate memory hit me full force, and I turned my gaze toward the windows so that if he looked back, he wouldn’t see the tears beginning to form. Instead, I blinked them away as quickly as they’d come.
He was leaving the sitting area, and I trailed after him but couldn’t bring myself to speak. To admit the guilt that had plagued me earlier despite my mixed feelings or the concern that raced through me as my gaze flicked to the blood on his sleeve again. Wordlessly, we climbed the remaining staircases until we reached our room, and the silence was long and agonizing between us.
Coming to a stop outside our room, it occurred to me that in a matter of mere hours, we would probably go to bed—and there was no way I could share a bed with him. I was already thinking of tracking down a staff member to bring extra sheets for the couch as his hand gripped the door handle and pushed—
My eyes nearly shot out of their sockets when I spotted the five female fae lounging in our room, in various states of undress. From sheer camisoles to glittering corsets and risqué lingerie, they covered every inch of the suite—indulging in goblets of wine and platters of cheese and grapes.
“What the actual fuck?” I snarled, staring in shock, and Percy cursed low.
“Leira,” he growled under his breath, bringing his hand to his temple as he scrunched his eyes shut. One of the fae straightened on the bed, her gaze fixed on Percy. She wore a glittering, emerald-green lingerie set that complimented her bouncing red curls and bright-green eyes.
“You requested us?” she asked, and my blood instantly boiled.
I had nothing against sex workers, but why the fuck were there five of them in our suite, and of all things, they had come—
“Requested?” I hissed at Percy, and only then did he have the audacity to look panicked, his eyes snapping open as he faced me.
“Wait, this is not what it looks like—”
“Not what it looks like?” I repeated, squaring my shoulders at him now. “You disappear for hours, and I come back to our shared suite to find it full of half-naked fae that you requested?”
I let out a half-hysteric laugh. I couldn’t believe that mere hours ago, I’d wasted my time trying to find him, and that I’d been stupid enough to feel guilty. Of course, Percy Renaud, of all people, had taken one look at my naked body—that he couldn’t have—and had gone seeking anything to get his urges out of his damn system.
Even if everything I’d come to know about him had been part of the painting’s illusion... it didn’t bury the lifelong expectation and privilege of getting everything he wanted handed to him on a silver platter.
Gritting my teeth at the realization, I turned on my heel to leave.
“Fleur—”
His fingers barely grazed my wrist, sending a thrill spiking through my body. A blast of responding energy pulsed out of my fingertips before I could rein it. I spun, eyes wide as he cursed. Percy was a blur as he ducked, the purple energy hitting the wall opposite us.
The stonework shattered, leaving a searing scar in the wallpaper. My mouth went dry, heart racing at the sight, before pulling my lips thin.
I turned to Percy with a pointed look, as he slowly rose to stare at me.
“Do not touch me,” I warned him stiffly, my scattered emotions a mix of anger and fear for his safety. This time, he didn’t attempt to follow me as I stormed away.
I’d headed straight for the grounds, borrowing a cloak that a staff member had insisted I wear before I’d exited through the front doors and down a set of steps. Rather than go back over the bridge toward the village down the slopes, I set off on a brisk stroll through the frigid courtyards and gardens surrounding the palace, until I’d eventually stumbled across an empty training ground.
My muscles were still tense, my brain a racing stream of white noise and fury and utter conflict. Which is why, at the sight of something so familiar, I let out a breath of relief.
The grounds were clearly used regularly—targets and dummies were set up across the clearing, battered with holes where straw peeked through. On a far wall were a range of different long-ranged weapons, ready at a moment’s notice. As I wandered over, my hand trailed across a crossbow, and I winced.
I’d always been terrible with a crossbow, never quite able to hit my mark head on. Margot had tried to train me for years with rabbits and other game in the woods before we’d given up and turned to daggers and swords. I was much better with the former, and passable with the latter. At least I knew what my strengths were.
Now though, the crossbow was the only weapon on the wall I’d had any sort of training in, and I was desperate for an outlet for all my rage, my frustration, my grief. Plucking it off the hook, I marched back to the faint line drawn in the dirt and stood within range of a target.
Raising the crossbow, the prod pressed against my thumb as I felt its weight settle against my shoulder. Once again, I was reminded why I’d never liked these things—too heavy, too distracting against vampires with their nimble movements.
Taking a moment to cock and load the bolt, I focused on aiming, remembering every instruction Margot had ever drilled into me. When the weight and tension became too much, I released a bolt with a click, the recoil jolting me momentarily. I watched the bolt whiz past the target, embedding in the wall of the training grounds beyond.
A frustrated sigh escaped my lips, and I repeated the action. Again... then again. Every single bolt missed its mark.
I took a moment to recall my training with Margot, thinking back to the endless, cold nights. My guardian, who’d poured hours of time and energy into training me, raising me...
And as I remembered those moments, I couldn’t bring myself to think of her as anything but the woman who had raised me. Even despite the small seed of doubt that had begun to grow in my heart, which I quickly shoved down, unable to face head on.
My emotions rising quickly, I threw the crossbow to the ground with a thud as I shoved the thoughts down, down, down.
It was all shit.
I was shit.
When had every single thing in my life gone to shit?
Pressing the palms of my hands against my closed eyelids, I breathed for a few minutes, letting the anger pass.
It was fine. I could handle this. I was going to be fine.
“Mind if I interrupt?” came a voice, and I jolted, eyes blinking open and hands dropping as I spun to see Leira hovering in the doorway. She offered me a grimace, then noted the crossbow lying in the dirt. “You know they’re more effective in your hands, right?”
I snorted, shaking my head at her, but gestured for her to come in. She took a few steps toward me, her satin dress entirely out of place in the training grounds. But she didn’t complain.
“Percy sent me. Actually, no, I should say he demanded I come to speak to you after you discovered the fae I sent to your room.”
I raised my eyebrow at her at the confession, not trusting myself to speak yet. She continued.
“He needed blood, and we’re not exactly... stocked... for that sort of thing. Palace staff might talk if we ask them to supply. But the girls I sent from the brothel in town? They’ll never want for anything ever again with the money I’ve paid them to supply for him while you’re both here. They’ll never breathe a word about what he is.”
Realization came over me, and my shoulders finally sagged.
“Oh,” I said. I should have known... should have realized how hungry he’d be by now. Hell, he was barely out of his newborn phase as it was. But then I shook my head. “I guess that makes sense. It’s just... I know they’re sex workers, but... did they have to be half-naked?”
Leira smirked at me, folding her arms.
“I didn’t think you, of all people, would be so precious about that sort of thing,” she told me. “But in any case, I’ve moved them to a different suite. Or, rather, I didn’t really have a choice after Percy threatened me the way he did.”
She scowled at the last part, scrunching up her nose, but I breathed a sigh of relief. Thank God they were gone from our space.
Our space...
Emotions bubbled through me again, which I shoved down as quickly as possible. Instead, I reached for something—anything—to get my mind off Percy.
“Well, I appreciate it. And I’m sorry about how things have turned out since we got back, for you and... your prince,” I offered carefully. “Prince Kyran, wasn’t it? You seem pretty enamored by him... how is that when you grew up in Monsec and haven’t seen him in so many years?”
Leira raised an eyebrow at me.
“Well, I thought that much would be obvious,” she mused, but faltered as I continued to meet her with a blank stare. Eventually, she shrugged, crossing the space and coming to a stop against the wall so that she could lean against it. “If you must have it spelled out for you, Kyran and I were friends growing up,” she admitted, her eyes glazing as if lost in a memory. She hugged her waist—and I realized I’d never seen her up close like this before. “Our courts were close, and he would accompany his parents often when they visited to discuss political relations with my parents. We grew closer and closer, and one day... I felt a pull. I realized we were mates.”
I frowned at the term, remembering that Nolan had mentioned it in reference to Percy’s father, and she noted my expression with careful consideration.
“It’s more common among magical creatures, like fae, but a fated mating can happen for anyone. Even humans, though they don’t always pick up on their strong connection to one another being a mating bond. In any case... I knew it, even at that young age—we were destined to be together.”
She faltered, her gaze fixed to the ground, and that wistfulness left her eyes.
“But mating bonds don’t matter among the royal fae. Especially in houses where tradition calls to seek out the ideal fit for a kingdom. In Kyran’s kingdom... they have a ceremony to seek out marriage candidates, which favors political strategy and relationship building over chemistry. Even if I’m Kyran’s mate, and even if he knows it, he’s obligated to pick the person who demonstrates themselves to be the best fit for his kingdom.”
She clenched her fist.
“And knowing her... she will do whatever it takes to keep my life, my throne.”
I didn’t need to ask who she was referring to. I simply nodded, understanding Leira’s frustration a little more now.
“You haven’t had a chance to prove yourself yet,” I replied, and she looked at me like she was seeing me for the first time in her life, before she eventually nodded.
“I don’t know what to expect,” she admitted, her voice faint and expression hard. “I don’t know what our relationship is like now. She could have told him anything in all of these years. But she wouldn’t have known we were mates. What if he doesn’t even remember me? What if he chooses someone else because he doesn’t realize we’re supposed to be mates because he can’t feel anything with her?”
“It’ll be okay,” I reassured her, crossing to stand beside her and placing a hand on her shoulder. She seemed surprised by the gesture but didn’t protest. “You’ve got a... striking personality, Leira. One that has a way of capturing attention in a room. The moment you see Kyran again, he’s going to realize something is off with your changeling, and your opportunity to set things right will reveal itself. I just know it.”
Slowly, a small smile appeared on her lips, which, again, took me by surprise. But I couldn’t help feeling I’d somehow grown closer her—something I’d always thought would be impossible with her frosty exterior.
“If you don’t mind me saying it... I think you should forgive Percy,” she said finally, which only increased my surprise. “I know what it’s like to have my memories taken from me, to live in that painting as another version of myself. It changes you... makes you think differently. If he didn’t truly care for you, he’d be long gone by now.”
I was silent for a moment, considering her words against the weight on my heart. I didn’t know what Percy and I were anymore or where we stood. We weren’t friends, and we weren’t lovers. I wanted to hate him, but it was obvious that I clearly still felt something for him. For lack of a better word, I would have called this thing between us... an obsession.
A bad cough I couldn’t shake.
Finally, I offered her a grimace and said, “I’ll think about it.”
It was long past midnight by the time I made my way back up to my room. I’d stayed in the training grounds for hours after Leira had left to return to her quarters, not yet ready to face Percy.
Or the conversation I knew I needed to have with him, sooner rather than later.
My arms ached from holding that crossbow for hours and felt like dead weight as I nudged against the doors and let myself into the dark suite. Percy had left a single lamp on for me, but the rest of the suite was shadowed in darkness. There was no sign of him under the bedsheets—he must have been in the next room, sleeping on the couch, or somewhere else in the palace entirely. I didn’t give it much further thought as exhaustion lulled me toward the empty bed.
Sleep found me quickly once I’d crawled under the covers, and in the blink of an eye, I was standing in my dreamland, only a few feet away from Jules. He was slumped against one of the shop buildings in the main street, his breathing ragged, his face taut, with dark circles under his eyes.
I hadn’t seen him the last time I’d slept because I hadn’t ended up here—maybe my body had been too exhausted while dying in Nolan’s cell, and while recovering from my injuries, to bring me here. But it was clear that the time that had passed had taken a toll on Jules. He looked like he was on his last legs.
Slowly, I kneeled down until I was eye level with him, drinking in the sight of him with relish.
“You’re not looking so good, Jules,” I told him plainly. He glared up at me with dilated pupils, rage etched onto his face.
“Where the fuck have you been?” he grunted, giving me a once-over. I pulled my lips into a thin line, flicking a spec of dirt off my pants.
“Are you ready to answer my questions?” I asked. He didn’t respond, staring dejectedly at the ground, and I clicked my tongue. “I would predict you have less than twenty-four hours left before you succumb to whatever fate awaits you. This could be your last chance to save yourself.”
Still no answer. I sighed, then stood once more.
“Fine, I’ll level with you. I can get you out of here alive, but only if I can figure out how to harness the magic of this place. In order to do that, I need information—and you may be able to help me get it.”
He raised an eyebrow at me and drawled, “And you think you can do that in the next twenty-four hours?”
I grimaced. Perhaps not... but I was starting to get a hang of this power of mine already.
“I may be able to extend your sentence,” I offered, thinking back to how I’d siphoned the life out of Louis. It had been an accident... but if I could take life, maybe I could give it as well. “But only if you answer my questions—including telling me what you know about succubae.”
“I only know that your kind were a threat to vampires... that you were eradicated years ago,” he groaned.
I grimaced. That wasn’t helpful for what I needed, especially if I wanted to get him out of here alive at some point.
“Fine. Then tell me how you became a vamprich,” I suggested. At minimum, I could see if it was worth keeping Jules around. And since I knew more now about vampriches than when I’d last seen him, I only really had one question; had he been turned through bite-and-transition? Or was he one of Margot’s creations? And if the latter, how recently had it happened?
His expression darkened, like the memory wasn’t a good one. After a few moments of silence, I realized he wasn’t going to answer, so I moved closer and kneeled down again.
“I need you to understand something very important,” I said carefully, waiting until he locked eyes with me. He needed to see how serious I was as I shared these words with him. “I can cure vampirism. So if you were turned against your will, I may be able to turn you back... and I will admit—I owe you as much, after what happened to your brother. But in order to do it, I need to know how you became this way.”
Jules watched me for another moment, his hard expression revealing nothing. For a moment, I thought he still wasn’t going to respond, but eventually, he relented.
“Fourteen years ago,” he began, his gaze becoming distant as he recalled the memory. “My brother and I were captured by Guildwood hunters. But they didn’t kill us. They took us to a chamber below your guild and tied us to stone benches infused with lace root. There were two other girls there, but I didn’t realize they were witches until Margot cut them and let them bleed to death. You never forget the scent of a witch—the sharp tang of their blood.”
He noticed the way my brows had knitted together and quickly continued.
“They then ripped out our hearts—and next thing I remember, we woke up feeling... different. Our bodies were stronger than ever before, with magic coursing through our veins.”
“You don’t remember what happened in between?” I asked, and he shook his head. Fuck. Vampire bodies disintegrated when their hearts were removed... but I’d always been taught to burn the heart afterward. That was the only way to truly know the vampire was dead and could not be revived.
So maybe... there was a spell or ritual of some kind that used the witch blood and the hearts to revive them as vampriches. In any case, Jules didn’t have a clear answer for me.
I stood once more, pacing for a moment as I thought.
“Did you know what I was before coming to this place?” I asked him, gesturing around before leveling him with a serious expression. “That I’m a succubus?”
He shook his head, and I bit my lip. If Margot was making vampriches, then why would she allow me to run free all over campus chasing down vampires and risk me curing one of her creations? Sure, I was trained to defend myself against them, but wouldn’t it have made more sense to warn them about me?
