Ensnared (Sorcery and Science Book 5) (24 page)

“I know. And the horrible thing is that I don’t regret that part—not even a bit. I
want
him to hate you, so that he will not stand in the way of your loving me.”

“You are a monster, Aaron Pall,” she told him.

“I know.” He sighed. “I know.” He gave her a hopeful half-smile. “But you seem to have an unusual capacity to love monsters.”

“Jason—”

“Kills for profit,” he cut in. “And without remorse.”

“There’s more to him than that,” she protested.

“And there’s more to me too.” He leaned in to whisper against her ear. “You gave me a chance once before. Why can’t you do so again?”

She had put up such a thick wall between the two of them that she’d nearly forgotten how intoxicating the heat of his breath against her skin was. She felt herself arching forward, yearning to be close to him. Letting him slip past her barrier had been a bad idea. They could not be together, no matter how much she wanted it at that moment.

Isis pulled back. “Because it will only end in death and suffering,” she said, forcing the foresight images into her head. She and Aaron drenched in blood. A field strewn with the corpses of Elitions.
It must not come to be.

“It seems to me like you’re not so numb after all,” he commented.

Isis looked down at her own clenched fists. “Congratulations, Aaron,” she said, tears of anger and desperation pooling in her eyes. “You’ve made me feel something.”

“And what do you feel?” he asked.

“Rage,” she snarled. “Complete and total rage.”

“It’s a start.” He moved in closer. “But I’d better get you back home before my men foolishly decide to jump through that window in an attempt to rescue me from your seething glare.”

He turned to give the Diamond Edges a parting wave, then wrapped his arm around Isis and led her from the gym. They passed more Diamond Edges in the halls. This sports complex was open only to them and the Selpe aristocracy, which made Aaron the closest thing to a friendly face in the entire building. Isis tried not to think about how good it felt to have his arm around her. Why? What the hell was the matter with her?

Numb
, she reminded herself.
Numb is safe. Anything else will push me down that path again. Back to that time when Aaron and I were close.

They followed an underground tunnel to the palace, perhaps not evading the bite of winter’s breath but at least avoiding the frost that coated every leaf, branch, and stone in the imperial grounds above them. Then it was only a short walk up the stairs and down the hall to Isis’s apartment. She looked at him, waiting for him to go, but he stayed firmly in place, his arm still wrapped around her shoulder.

“Aaron,” she said.

“I’m coming in,” he replied.

“Of course you are,” she sighed, unlocking the door.

As she stepped inside, she was met with the sight of a pink and orange dress hanging from the curtain rod of her balcony window. Sunlight streamed through the glass, making the dress glow like a sunset. Isis walked past the sofa to the window and brushed her hand across the translucent top layer of chiffon. The dress was held up on the hanger by two slender straps, each one such a dark shade of pink that they were nearly red. The color faded gradually lighter, reaching a shade of carnation pink at the waist, then continuing further down the full length of the skirt, darkening to vibrant orange at the bottom. The dress was a masterpiece, as much a work of art as an item of clothing. It was beautiful.

And Isis dreaded the very thought of putting it on. “Not another one,” she groaned.

“Tonight, we will be guests at the party at Lord Vencent’s estate on Imperial Lane,” Aaron said, stepping up behind her. “You will look stunning in that dress.”

Isis knew she would. She always looked good in whatever Aaron picked out. But that wasn’t the point.

“I don’t want to go,” she said softly, hiding her face behind her hands.

Aaron set his hands over hers. “I know. Neither do I.”

Isis turned around in surprise. “You? But you love parties. And you love the spotlight.”

“But I do not love Veronica Frostwater. Her presence kills the fun for me every single time.”

“I’m surprised you and Lord Adrian didn’t see to it that she met with an ‘unfortunate accident’.”

“Believe me, the thought did cross our minds on more than one occasion. Veronica certainly knows how to make a nuisance of herself,” he said. “But she has a lot of allies. I will never get their support by killing her. The nobles have to
choose
me over her. That’s the only way.” He gave her a resigned smile. “So until they make their decision, the two of us will just have to suffer through these parties together.”

“It’s the masses of Selpe aristocracy converging on me like hungry wolves that I’m worried about, not Veronica Frostwater. I’ve never even spoken to the woman. Somehow we’ve avoided crossing paths at every gathering thus far these two months.”

“Only because I’ve moved us to a different room every time she got close,” Aaron told her. “Veronica has had her eye on you. She’d love nothing better than to get you alone into a room with her, where she can whisper poisonous words into your ear, turning you against me. She is a viciously clever and manipulative woman.”

“She cannot turn me against you. Not as long as I’m not free to choose. I am your prisoner, Aaron,” she reminded him glumly.

“I wish you’d stop thinking of me as your prison warden,” he said.

“But it’s the truth.”

He frowned. “If you put a wedge between us, Veronica will use it to stab us both in the back. That’s what she does. She’s a shark. She can smell weakness a continent away, and she will exploit it. Remember that.”

“Fine.” Isis looked away from him. “I will play my part,” she told him. She kept her eyes on the dress, trying to lose herself in the soft streams of color.

“What happened to your rage?”

I buried it. It’s not safe to feel anything around you.

“It has passed,” she told him.

He set his hand on her chin, turning her face toward him. “I don’t believe you,” he whispered with a smile. “I think it’s still in there, waiting to come out. Along with a hundred other feelings.” He kissed her softly on her lips. “I know there are even a few somewhere in there for me.”

“Nothing you want to come out.”

He chuckled. “Perhaps not, but it’s a start. I would take hate over indifference any day.” He walked toward the door. “I’ll see you in two hours.”

“Aaron.”

He stopped in the open doorway and turned to look back at her.

“I don’t hate you for what happened,” she said. “I hate myself for going along with it.”

Then she closed the door quickly in his face, before she was tempted to ask him to stay. He would agree, the two of them would end up kissing again, and then she would forget why she shouldn’t be with him. Even if Jason now hated her, she still loved him. Trying to drown her pain with Aaron not only wouldn’t help, it was a recipe for disaster. She could not be with him. She must not be with him. Not if she didn’t want to become the bloodthirsty monster of her foresights.

* * *

526AX November 4, Orion

Lord Vencent’s Orion villa was far too close to the imperial palace. The walk took but five minutes, giving Isis little time to settle her nerves before they arrived at the front gate. Then again, a journey a thousand times longer would hardly have sufficed to calm her. It would only have drawn out the inevitable. She was entering into a nest of vipers—men and women who would love nothing more than to tear her apart limb by limb—and rather than flee or fight, she had to stand there, smiling while they gloated with glee over Jason’s plight. The only thing which made the experience marginally bearable was that Aaron had taken full credit for the whole thing, sparing her from the torture of the Selpes’ praise and congratulations for managing to ensnare the world’s most elusive target.

Aaron led her inside the entrance hall. A crystal chandelier hung from the high ceiling, twinkling with a pale blue light. It shone down on the white marble floors that covered the coat area and the wide curving staircase that led up to the next floor. The soles of Isis’s sandal-strapped stilettos were caked with chunks of compacted ice, so she walked carefully over the slippery smooth floors. Though Aaron had a talent for putting together an ensemble that looked good, he knew nothing about what it was like to actually walk around in it.

“Sandals. In November,” she whispered to Aaron.

He moved behind her in one fluid motion, as though it were a rehearsed step in a dance. “You look beautiful,” he whispered back, helping her out of her coat. He stepped back and smiled. “Just beautiful.”

“And now I’m cold,” she said, shivering in her sleeveless dress.

His blue-green eyes twinkled. “You have gloves.”

Isis straightened her thin white gloves so that they covered her elbows. “I feel warmer already,” she said dully.

He chuckled and lifted his arm. “It should be warm inside the ballroom.”

Isis linked her arm in his, and together they ascended the staircase. By the time they reached the top, she wanted to yank off those dreadfully uncomfortable shoes and toss them over the side of the bannister. Instead, she did her best to stick some semblance of a smile on her face and entered the ballroom.

As soon as they stepped inside, at least a hundred eyes turned their way. Isis looked past them all, allowing Aaron to lead her across the floor. She tried not to see the people, but she couldn’t help but notice the enormous fountain in the middle of the ballroom. Framed on all sides by golden platters of pretentious bite-sized food, interspersed with arrangements of orchids, the tiered fountain was as large as a bathtub—but instead of water, red wine rolled in streaming cascades from one pool to another. Apparently, Lord Vencent loved wine enough to make it the centerpiece of his entire party. The multi-tier chocolate fountain in the corner looked miniature by comparison—but far more tempting.

“You will find Vencent over by the cheese corner,” Lord Adrian said as Aaron stopped beside him. “You’d best go stroke his ego first.”

“Ok,” Aaron agreed. He looked at Isis. “Will you be all right for a few minutes?”

“Oh, she’ll be just fine,” Lord Adrian assured him. “Now, go to Vencent before he gets himself into a huff.”

“I’ll be right back,” Aaron promised Isis, pressing her fingers to his lips.

She watched him go, then turned her attention to the cracker stand, which was unfortunately blocked by Lord Adrian’s smug face.

“Young love,” he sighed with dramatic flourish. “How touching.”

The bastard.
Isis resisted the urge to stomp down on his toes with her pointy heel and skewer his foot.

“Lord Adrian?”

“Yes, dear?”

“Stuff it,” she growled.

He lifted up a cracker sandwich. “Well, don’t mind if I do,” he replied with a smile and tucked the appetizer neatly into his mouth, licking his fingers for added effect before stalking off to find his next victim.

“That man truly is vile.”

Isis couldn’t see anyone else nearby, but the voice seemed to have come from the other side of the chocolate fountain. Surely enough, a moment later a bundle of feathers dyed in various shades of green and blue began to move from behind the cascade of liquid chocolate. Isis had thought it was just another garish room decoration. As it emerged, she saw the feather bundle was in fact the topping on a smoky grey velvet hat with a sloping brim that covered half a pale face. It was a woman’s face, her lips painted maroon, her cheeks blushed with metallic pink powder.

She stepped out from behind the table, presenting Isis with a full view of her dress, a hybrid of horse riding wear and evening gown. The skirt’s ruffled trim trailed long in the back but was drawn up short in the front, revealing a pair of skin-tight black tights beneath knee-high boots with decorative buckles up the front that clinked as she walked. The top of the dress was sleeveless and bright turquoise with two cream-colored ribbons sewn into vertical strips along each of her sides. A sapphire brooch rested against her collarbone, holding in place a shimmering midnight blue cape that trailed along the floor, swirling left and right like the tail of a sea serpent.

The woman stopped in front of Isis and turned up her face to look at her. “The infamous Elition bride,” she said with a sweet smile. “You are very pretty, my dear.”

“You seem to have me at a disadvantage.”

“Then allow me to introduce myself.” She extended her bejeweled hand. “I am Veronica Frostwater.” Veronica’s maroon lips cracked a wide smile at Isis’s unconscious step back. “I see Aaron has talked about me.”

“Yes.”

Veronica giggled. “What was it this time? Don’t talk to me because my words will poison you? Or don’t look at me because my gaze will turn you to stone?”

Isis almost laughed. Veronica was good—completely disarming, just like the big sister you wanted to tell all your secrets to. Even knowing this, Isis still struggled to keep silent.

“Yes, very pretty indeed,” Veronica said, tucking a stray strand of Isis’s hair back into place behind her headband. “I can certainly see how my cousin grew to be so infatuated with you. But Aaron always was such a rapacious fool, plowing through anyone who stood in the way of what he wanted. I’m sorry that you became a pawn in one of his schemes.”