When Magic Wakes

  “What were you thinking?”

  Bree’s words—and her anger—hit him the moment he stepped out into the hall.

  “Nice to see you too,” he replied with far more calm than he felt.

  Even as his magic fed on her anger, he couldn’t tear his gaze away from her mouth.

  A mouth he now knew was full and soft and like fire against his own.

  He hadn’t meant to kiss her. It just…happened. And now that the trauma of the trial was over for the day, he couldn’t stop thinking about it. He couldn’t stop thinking about kissing her again.

  “Twice!” She held up two fingers. “Twice you disappeared on me today.”

  He frowned at her. “I never disappeared.”

  “First, you weren’t in your room when I got here this morning,” she said, wagging one finger at him. “And then you ran off after…” Her cheeks flushed to a flaming shade of red as she made her second point.

  He lifted his eyebrows in question.

  He knew what she meant, but he wanted to make her say it.

  “After…” she tried again. She finally managed to say, “After the training room.”

  He wanted to correct her, to say the words she was to afraid to speak aloud. After we kissed. But they were not alone in the corridor.

  “Do you know what could happen?” she demanded.

  “I could get kidnapped and tortured?” he offered. “No, wait, I already did that.”

  “Well, yes,” she said, a confused look on her face. “But do you know what else?”

  He shrugged. He was enjoying this banter and, more than that, he was enjoying her outrage. Outrage with a hint of fear. Maybe he should make a habit of pushing her to anger.

  “I could get fired!”

  He jerked back. That was not what he expected her to say. “That is your concern?”

  She stared at him for several seconds.

  “What else?”

  “Oh, I don’t know,” he said, moving closer to her. “My safety and well-being?”

  She inched backward toward the wall. “There have been no threats or signs of co-conspirators. I-I think we both know that you aren’t in any real danger.”

  “Do we?”

  “Your family is worried about you,” she said, her voice taking on a breathless quality. “It makes them feel better to know that you’re being watched.”

  Aedan studied her. Perhaps she was not aware that fae had a built-in human lie detector. Every time she professed a falsehood, she felt guilty for the deception. Her guilt sparked his magic.

  If she was determined to lie about her concern for him, then he would teach her a lesson. He would make sure she never lied to a fae again. Or at least never lied to him again.

  If she insisted her interest was purely professional, then he would force her to face an evening that tested her unprofessional interest.

  Shoving away from the wall, he started down the hall, heading for the front entrance. This was going to be enjoyable.

  “Where are you going?” she called out after him.

  He heard her hurried footsteps behind him, trying to catch up. He smiled to himself and walked faster.

  Her pace quickened. She might have broken into a run.

  “I said,” she panted as she caught up with him at the entrance, “where are you going?”

  He flashed her a smile worth of the Party Prince he had once been. “The Black Dove.”

  He had spent plenty of time at the disreputable tavern in his pre-Ultan days. Maybe a visit now would serve two purposes—irritate Bree and remind him of the fae he used to be. Plus, it was in the neutral territory and away from the palace. Right then, he needed that distance.

  “You’re not serious?” she said as they descended the palace steps.

  “It seems that I am.”

  “The Black Dove?”

  It was the kind of place that a respectable girl like Bree would never be caught dead in. Which made it even more perfect for his motives.

  “You don’t have to come,” he told her.

  “You don’t have to go.”

  “And yet I am.”

  He felt the jolt of her anger.

  “Then I guess I am too.”

  His mood was suddenly much improved as they started into the woods.

  Fourteen

  Bree knew of the Black Dove. By reputation. Her brother had told her tales of the legendary tavern and what went on within. It sounded like something out of the old west, with all the drinking, brawling, and hooking up that an adventurous fae could want.

  Peter had been once with Prince Cathair, but she knew that humans weren’t exactly regular customers of the Black Dove.

  Then again, she didn’t think that females were their normal clientele either.

  But if Aedan was determined to go there, she would go with him. She wasn’t about to lose him for a third time in one day.

  She wasn’t exactly sure why she hadn’t confessed the whole truth about why she was so upset about his disappearance. She was worried about her job. That much was true at least.

  But there was more to it. Something deeper and, frankly, scarier. Her feelings for Aedan were growing complicated. Confused. He was a royal fae prince and she was a human seer guard. One that wanted to be seen as more than a child, more than Peter’s little sister, more than a human girl who had only gotten her position in the Seer Guard because of her family’s reputation within the ranks.

  It would be even worse to be seen as the human girl who only achieved success because of her involvement with a prince.

  She glanced nervously up at Aedan’s back as he trekked through the forest ahead of her, like she was afraid he might sense her thoughts. As far as she knew, only the most advanced—and powerful—fae had the ability to read minds.

  Still, she couldn’t be too careful.

  The idea that there might be any involvement between her and Aedan was ridiculous. Absolutely ludicrous. As if they had shared anything more than contentious conversations and one surprising kiss. The entire thing was probably a product of her overactive imagination.

  And boy is my imagination overacting, she thought as she stared at Aedan’s dark curls. Dark curls she had been raking her hands through only a few hours earlier.

  She tripped over her own feet.

  “You can turn back at any time,” Aedan called over his shoulder.

  “I’m fine,” she snapped as she stepped over yet another fallen branch.

  He glanced back over his shoulder. “We’re almost there.”

  “I’m—” Her foot caught on a hidden vine, sending her stumbling. When she regained her footing, she snapped, “Fine.”

  Aedan smirked, but didn’t say anything.

  After a few more minutes of silent hiking, the forest around them cleared slightly. And there, in the center of the clearing, was a small ramshackle building. It appeared to be very old and made from thick logs and wooden shingles. The massive black door was decorated with a roughly-carved bird that could, with some generous imagination, be interpreted as a dove.

  And since Bree’s imagination was working overtime lately, she decided that this must have been the Black Dove.

  Aedan walked up to the door and pulled it open, gesturing for her to go inside. She scowled at him as she passed through. Leave it to him to be a gentleman and a jerk at the same time.

  “So chivalrous,” she whispered sarcastically.

  He winked at her. “Aren’t I though?”

  The interior didn’t look any more sophisticated than the outside. Rough wooden tables and chairs, occupied by rough-looking fae men and fae women who wore what looked like some version of a pirate costume. A very low cut pirate costume.

  “Do try to keep that anger of yours under control,” Aedan said as he let the door close behind them. “Every fae in the place will be out to make it stronger. Not all are from clans that signed the trocaire.”

  And then he was walking away from her and into the heart of the
tavern. Several of the men greeted him, as though he was some kind of regular. Most of the women watched him with hungry eyes as he made his way to the bar.

  “Aedan!” one of them screamed.

  She rushed at the prince.

  Bree’s instincts kicked in and she dove into the woman’s path, fingers curling around the hilt of the dagger at her waist.

  “Relax, soldier girl,” Aedan said, placing a hand on her arm to keep her from drawing the blade. “This one is friendly.”

  Then he stepped around Bree and embraced the woman.

  Bree’s blood boiled. How dare he dismiss her so easily? She didn’t know he knew the woman. For all Bree knew, the fae was one of Ultan’s agents.

  Bree was only doing her job.

  See, I do care about your safety, she snarked mentally.

  While Aedan made friendly with the non-assassin, Bree made her way to the bar.

  “Do you have anything non-alcoholic?” she asked.

  There was no legal drinking age in the fae realm, but she was on duty. The last thing she needed was impaired impulses. Or, considering the earlier incident with Aedan, uninhibited ones.

  “Cider,” the barkeep replied.

  Bree dragged her gaze away from Aedan. “I’ll have that.”

  The bartender filled a large mug with amber liquid from a massive wooden barrel and then set the mug in front of her on the bar.

  “Thanks.”

  She pulled a silver coin from her pocket and handed it to the barkeep. There weren’t any empty tables, so she climbed up onto a barstool and turned to face the tavern. At least she would have a good view.

  Lucky her.

  Aedan was seated at a table near the end of the bar. Two fae men laughed at something he said while a serving girl set mugs full of what Bree assumed was not cider on the table.

  The woman who had rushed Aedan now sat on his lap. She laughed harder than anyone at whatever devastatingly amusing thing Aedan had said. Then she leaned close and whispered something in his ear. The woman was pressed so close to him that her overflowing breasts had to be leaving an impression on his chest.

  Bree growled low in her throat.

  Aedan turned his head toward the bar, his dark eyes catching her from across the room. They literally sparkled with mischief. Okay, not literally, but he was definitely enjoying himself.

  No, not enjoying himself, Bree realized. He was enjoying tormenting her.

  She was so stupid.

  He knew exactly how his actions were making her feel because he could feel the charge to his magic with every flash of jealousy—no, no, not jealousy! Great Morrigan, she had nothing to be jealous over. Or no right to be jealous. Something like that.

  Either way, Bree closed her eyes and took three deep breaths. She needed to get her emotions under control. Not just because she knew every fae in the room could sense her every feeling, but because she didn’t want to give Aedan the satisfaction of knowing what he did to her. Surely she could keep her anger to herself.

  But when she reopened her eyes, he was back to looking straight at her. And grinning.

  Bree threw back half her cider in one gulp. It was going to be a long night.

  Fifteen

  The smell of ale and perfume was starting to give Aedan a headache. He hadn’t been to the Black Dove in…well, it was technically only weeks, but it felt like years. He had forgotten about the sensory overload. Or maybe he hadn’t forgotten it, but he thought it would be a welcome distraction. That if his physical senses were bombarded, his mind would be unable to focus on anything else.

  To be honest, he had hoped that his mind wouldn’t be able to focus on Bree.

  Instead, she was all he could focus on.

  His every nerve ending seemed to be laser focused on her. Every time he did something to annoy her—laugh too loud, lean too closely to the fae woman draped across his lap, looked too directly at Bree herself—her anger surged. And his magic rejoiced.

  Even that charge, though, was wearing thin. His senses couldn’t take much more of the overload. His magic tingled with the urge to do something with the increased power coursing through him. Just as his fingers itched to shove the luscious fae from his lap and draw Bree into his arms instead.

  He didn’t know what time it was, but it felt like they had been there for hours. His eyes drooped and he was on the verge of falling asleep when he sensed a new burst of outrage from Bree.

  When he turned to look for her, she was standing at his side.

  “Can I speak to you for a second,” she said in a clipped tone. Casting an annoyed glance at the fae wench, she added, “Alone.”

  Aedan shrugged, as if it didn’t matter to him. But he nudged the woman from his lap and followed Bree to a quiet corner of the tavern.

  “It’s late,” she said.

  He shrugged, silently saying, Should I care?

  He was rewarded with a jolt of power.

  “I’m exhausted,” she continued, her brow set a little lower. “Are you going to be leaving anytime soon?”

  He cast a bored look over the tavern. A few of the regular all-nighters had trickled in and the place was getting louder by the minute.

  “The party is just getting interesting.”

  “Look, it’s been a long and stressful day. For both of us.” She sighed and rubbed her hands over her face. “I’m sure that attending the trial was—”

  “Why so sad, pretty lady?” A large fae man, dressed in the colors of the Cuinn, wrapped a beefy arm around Bree’s shoulder.

  Aedan could smell the ale on his breath.

  The Cuinn weren’t the darkest of the unseelie clans. They had signed the trocaire, which meant that killing a human for magical gain was against their laws. But that didn’t mean they wouldn’t hurt one for the powers charge.

  That didn’t mean Aedan liked seeing the man pressing Bree up against his side.

  “We’re kind of in the middle of something here,” she said to the man, giving him a less-than-thrilled smile. “If you would excuse me…”

  She tried and failed to shrug off his arm.

  Aedan straightened to his full height, his exhaustion suddenly gone. “She said back off.”

  “I weren’t speakin’ to you,” the burly man slurred.

  Aedan stepped closer. “Let. Her. Go.”

  “It’s fine,” Bree told him, trying—and failing—to escape the man’s hold. “I’ve got this.”

  “Yeah. She’s got this.”

  The man grabbed himself.

  Instinct took over. Aedan’s fist connected with the man’s jaw.

  The man stumbled back a step and then, with a roar, charged at Aedan. He was ready for it. Adrenaline flooded his bloodstream in anticipation of the fight.

  Sparring with Regan was one thing. Battling an actual opponent was just the release he needed.

  “No!” Bree flung herself between Aedan and the attacking behemoth.

  As she did so, the man stumbled drunkenly to one side. Two of his clanfolk came to his aid and guided him back to the table.

  “Why did you do that?” he demanded.

  She shoved at his chest. “I don’t need you to defend me.”

  Aedan’s blood raced with unspent adrenaline. It made him punchy. It made him say things he wouldn’t normally say.

  “Clearly you do.” He smirked at her.

  Her gaze danced around the room. “You’re making me look incompetent.”

  “So what?” he threw back. He gestured at the room. “Why does it matter what this room full of fae strangers thinks of you?”

  A fierce blush crept up her cheeks. “Please, stop.”

  “You care too much about what they think.”

  It didn’t matter. None of it mattered. Why couldn’t she see that?

  “Are you enjoying this?” she demanded. “Are you getting your magical rocks off on making me mad?”

  He was not entirely certain what her words meant, but he understood the sentiment well enough. br />
  The worst part was that she was right. He was doing it all to get a rise out of her. He wanted the charge her spitfire emotions could give him. And right then, the magical high and the frustration blended into an exhilarating combination.

  He needed more.

  “You should leave,” he told her, knowing it would make her furious. “It’s not like you can actually protect me anyway. You can’t even protect yourself.”

  As soon as he uttered the words, he regretted them.

  The magical surge from her pain was the strongest charge he had ever experience. He felt as if he could take on Ultan himself just then. But at what cost?

  He had gone too far. He knew she was sensitive about her position as a seer guard. He had seen the other guards patronize her and treat her like a child.

  He shouldn’t have hit her below the belt.

  What he should have said was that she couldn’t protect him from the real dangers—the ones within. She couldn’t protect him from nightmares and shadows. She couldn’t protect him from himself.

  “Bree, I’m—”

  “No,” she snapped, cutting him off. “It’s fine. I will send a raven to the palace asking for a replacement.”

  “You don’t have to—”

  “Stop.”

  There was such pleading and pain in her tone that he did.

  She looked like she wanted to say something more. He wanted her to. He wanted her to yell and scream and rail on him. That would save him the trouble of doing it to himself.

  But in the end, she stiffened her spine and spun away from him. He watched, helpless and guilt-ridden as she walked across the tavern with her head held high.

  As much as his magic thrilled at the wave after wave of pain that radiated from her, his guilt wiped it all away.

  He couldn’t let her go like that. Ignoring the calls from his drinking buddies, Aedan strode toward the door.

  Sixteen

  Bree couldn’t remember the last time she cried.

  Maybe when she was seven and Peter had dared her to climb the giant oak outside their house. Her arm broke in three places when she fell.