Risk (A Mageri World Novel) (6 page)

“If she can, then this conversation is about to get awkward. So what did you find out?”

Justus did a quick scan of the bar, looking at everyone sitting within proximity. Simon had already done the check several times, so he removed his sunglasses to put Justus at ease. Vamps could be nosy bastards, but from what Simon knew, most of them tuned out background noise since hearing everyone’s conversations could drive a man to madness.

Ella adjusted a pin in her hair while noticing a young man at the bar. When Justus thought she looked disinterested enough, he began.

“We all know that Creators on the Council don’t have to follow protocol when it comes to getting a candidate approved by the Mageri. Outside of her living with Hannah, I can’t find a trace of her living in our world as a trusted human. It’s as if Hannah plucked her from thin air.”

Simon’s heart sped up. He lifted his glass to his lips, pretending to take a drink. He could feel Ella’s eyes on him and feared she might be able to pick up a few words. “So where does she come from?” he said into the glass.

“There is no trace of her origin. Novis is the keeper of the records, and I have access at the moment because of a case I’m working on. If she went through the official ceremony and the Council measured her gifts, the file doesn’t exist. Hannah is the only other person who would have had access to the records. Perhaps she wants to bury this Learner’s information for a reason.”

Ella stood up and pointed at the bathroom. Simon nodded, and she hurried out of the booth.

Justus watched her for a moment and then leaned forward, brushing his hand across the tattoos on his right arm. “What is this all about?”

Simon twirled his sunglasses in a circle on the table. “Hannah wants me to train her. I need to know the background of all my students, and this one is an enigma.”

Justus eased back in his chair, causing the legs to creak. “That’s the most I can do for you without risking my standing with the Mageri.”

Simon tapped his finger against his upper lip, deep in drunken thought. Did Ella have another rare gift that Hannah wanted to keep hidden? The Council would never reveal the rare abilities of a new Learner. They swore an oath to protect the privacy of each Mage they recorded into their books. Betraying the oath meant death, so why go through such lengths to steal the file? Simon wondered if there ever
was
a file.

Ella’s mental gift was rare, but he was certain that based on Ella’s reaction, neither Hannah nor the Mageri were aware of it. Even if they were, it didn’t make sense why Hannah would risk getting caught taking the file. There was more to the story, and Simon needed to know.

“So when is your Relic going to become one of us?” Simon asked, shifting subjects.

Justus leaned closer. “It has not been an easy decision for her to make. Very few Relics ever choose immortality.”

“Yes, but that’s because they’re too busy passing down all that knowledge to their offspring. Then guilt sets in about outliving their children and abandoning their family. She won’t have that problem with Rose. Or has that changed?”

“Rose’s light grows with each passing year. Page is certain she’ll stop aging when she reaches maturity.”

“This isn’t about the baby weight, is it?” Simon snorted, thinking how silly women could be.

Justus narrowed his eyes. “Do not speak again of her weight. I have trained her as I would a Mage, so that is not the issue.”

“Much to your dismay? Don’t think I haven’t noticed you trying to sabotage her fitness plan with cakes and biscuits. I’ve known you a long time, my friend. I know how you like the curves.”

Justus scratched his square jaw. “It’s complicated. Novis agreed to become her Creator, but we still have to work out the logistics on how to handle her training. Unless they’re unfit or dead, a Creator looks after his progeny.”

“You still haven’t asked him about being her Ghuardian?”

After a few beats, Justus finally answered. “Page wanted to wait five years, but after the car accident last month, she realized the foolishness of putting it off any longer. She was lucky to have walked away with only a burn on her arm from the airbag, but it could have been worse.”

Simon remembered how distraught Justus had been when he received news about the accident.

“It would be a mistake for me to ask Novis without first demonstrating that my relationship with Page won’t interfere with her training.”

Simon stretched his arm over the corner of the booth. “Perhaps you two should get bonded and make it official. How long are you going to string her along like a harlot?”

Justus cut him a menacing glare. “I’ve made the offer, but she won’t bond with me until she is a Mage.”

“Now I see why you’re shifting gears.” Simon chuckled with amusement. Justus had wanted to bond with her from day one, but Page was a planner.

“She cannot leave her child to live under his roof. Novis is an obedient man of the law who follows rules. I need to tread carefully.”

Simon glanced toward the bathroom. “Maybe you should shack up with them. Sunny and the twins might enjoy the company.”

“Why did Hannah ask you to train her progeny?” Justus narrowed his eyes until Simon could no longer see the blue in them. “I assumed she was a capable Creator, at least from what I’ve seen with Gregory.”

Simon sipped the last of his drink, the alcohol warming his stomach. He began to feel a mild flutter of annoyance at the way Hannah treated Ella. The more he thought about it, the more he wanted to confront the woman.
Brilliant
. Now he was going soft just because Ella was a woman.

A
fetching
woman.

Perish the thought
. He needed to subjugate himself and keep this professional.

Easier said than done after five drinks.

Simon pushed his glass away. “Hannah obviously recognizes that I’m a better man than she is. Although, it’s debatable who has more follicles on their chest,” he said with a snort. “Perhaps she doesn’t have the time to fool with an incompetent Learner. Look, don’t mention Ella’s impediment to anyone. I’m sure you can understand why Hannah wants to be discreet about it. If you blab to anyone, then Hannah will have me hanged, drawn and quartered.”

“Lock and key, my friend.” Justus rose to his feet and glanced at his expensive watch. “That’s all I have, and I’m washing my hands of this. I need to get back home. Silver is making steaks tonight, and I have to pick up the meat from the butcher.”

“And I wasn’t invited?” Simon huffed, folding his arms. When Justus opened his mouth, Simon waved his hand. “Don’t bother. I have work to do, and don’t feel like watching you eat meat with those oafish hands of yours. Give the little miss a kiss,” he said, referring to Rose.

Justus inclined his head and then swaggered across the bar. Several women licked their lips, succumbing to his Charmer energy.

Simon looked around the club and didn’t see Ella. He stood up with alarm, sharpening his light and trying to pick up on her energy. When he stormed toward the bathroom and swung open the door, an old bat swung her purse and hit him on the head. Simon backed away, but not before noticing the stalls were empty.

W
hen Ella came
out of the bathroom and saw that Simon was still deep in conversation with the scary guy, she slipped out of view and explored the club. Whatever they were discussing, she could tell by their body language that they didn’t want her to know. She wasn’t stupid. Simon kept holding his glass in front of his mouth so she couldn’t see him talking.

Ella drifted through the club, changing her meek demeanor to one of cold indifference—an unapproachable expression she’d learned from Hannah.

A few people were dancing in the adjacent room. It was too early for such frivolity, but Breed didn’t operate on the same clock that humans did. She watched their movements, their style of clothing, their interactions with one another. Ella looked down at her long cotton dress and black slip-on shoes with sequins on the toes. No wonder people were giving her funny looks. She’d never been to a Breed club, and outside of the Council’s parties, the only places she’d been to were fancy restaurants where people dressed like her.

She made her way toward the back, resting her hand on one of the large speakers in the corner. The vibration buzzed against her fingertips, and she shut her eyes, moving her body in quiet rhythm to the pulsing beat.

Her eyes flew open when two arms slipped around her waist from behind. She looked down and recognized the skull ring on his finger as well as the faint smell of cinnamon when he rested his chin on her right shoulder.

Ella tried to mimic the sway of his hips, caught up in the thrill of being a free woman again, if only for a short time. Simon was the antithesis of men she’d dated in the past, and yet she was drawn to him in an inexplicable way. Maybe it was the connection they shared, or the fact he had allowed her to listen to music for the first time in years. She turned around and beheld a subtle smirk on his face. If she didn’t know better, she would think that he could read her…

Oh, that feels good
, she thought, distracted by the press of his large hand against her back. Her body was flush against his, and they danced in rhythm—swaying in a serpentine motion as if they were one. It felt so good to have a man hold her this way. She placed her hands on his shoulders, feeling his muscles contract with every move. Without music, everything about what they were doing was sensual and intimate. Ella suddenly became hyperaware of her dancing. She looked up, the blue lights flickering against his penetrating gaze.

Ella reached around and clasped one of his hands, releasing his hold.
Is this part of the training?

I needed to be sure you had all the right moves
, he replied, his voice rough and sexy.

She glanced around and realized they were the only ones dancing.
Is the song over?

Been over for two minutes, love.

Ella backed up a step and scowled.
Why didn’t you tell me? You’ve had me up here looking like an idiot!

Look around. I don’t think any of those blokes seem to mind
.

Her cheeks flushed, and her palm grew sweaty in his. The music must have started up again, because two women got on the floor and demonstrated their moves.

A hand rested between her shoulder blades, and she tensed. Simon’s eyes flashed up, and his jaw clenched.

Who’s behind me?
she asked.

Can’t you sense his intentions?
Simon growled, his voice filling her head.
Concentrate on how he’s touching you, how close he’s standing. Feel his energy and find out if he’s a Mage. You don’t need to hear what he’s saying; people use more than words to speak
.

Ella came to a quick conclusion the man wanted to cut in for a dance. His hand on her back caused a spark of irritation on Simon’s face, and his position behind her spoke volumes. This guy wasn’t asking her permission; he was stealing the dance. When he tugged on her short braid, she crossed her arms and turned around slowly.

He spoke with arrogance, his eyebrows arching at the end of his sentence. When she shook her head to deny him, he had a comeback, but she wasn’t sure what it was. When he trailed his index finger down the sleeve of her dress, she twisted his arm and pulled it into a lock. After a punishing yank, she shoved him away. Maybe that wasn’t the best response, so she sharpened her light just in case.

He glared at her with contempt.

Ella didn’t like uninvited touch. Simon might have looked like trouble, but at the party, he had
offered
her his hand. Most people didn’t mean any harm by touching someone, so Ella worked hard to try to overcome her knee-jerk reaction to punch them in the face.

Although when Simon had come up behind her on the dance floor moments ago, Ella hadn’t reacted the way she normally would have.

Simon gave a look of disbelief, which amused her since she hadn’t really done anything but break contact. It wasn’t as if she’d taken the man down with a roundhouse kick. But if he touched her again, Ella wouldn’t hesitate to use the small dagger strapped to her leg.

Simon gripped her hand and jerked her away.
Let’s you and I take a walk
.

What’s wrong?

I see a capable woman in front of me, that’s what’s wrong. Hannah led me to believe you were a dainty little flower.

She smiled and covered her mouth as they moved off the dance floor.

Is that funny?
he asked.

After a quick tug, she reluctantly let go of his hand and followed him outside. She’d often fantasized about running away, but a grown woman didn’t run from her problems—she kicked them in the balls.

When the main door opened, sunlight pierced her eyes. Simon slid on his aviator sunglasses and led her to the side of the building. Ella shielded her eyes, wondering if he was going to give her some kind of scolding.

Without warning, he pulled out his dagger and lunged in a calculated move. Ella flashed out of reach, startled by the unexpected attack.

When she circled behind him, she unsheathed her own weapon—one with a black grip and a three-inch blade. Easy to carry, and it got the job done. She bent sideways as if to kick him and then threw the knife at his chest. It sank to the hilt, and Simon fell like a bag of concrete, his sunglasses askew.

He hadn’t expected her to be carrying a stunner tempered with magic—the only kind of magic that could paralyze a Mage if left impaled in their flesh. She assumed he was armed with the same, so she kicked his dagger away. Ella knelt beside him, removed his sunglasses, and stared into his glassy eyes.

She held his hand.
Are you going to behave if I pull it out?

I don’t believe I’ve ever had a woman say that to me before
, he said, amused in spite of the situation.

She wrapped her fingers around the handle and glared at him, hoping he wouldn’t lash out and start fighting with her again. She’d never seen him so serene and wondered if this was his post-orgasm face. When you erased the exaggeration and cocky attitude he wore like armor, his relaxed state was warm and inviting like the hearth of a fire.

Ella pulled out the dagger and he gasped, stretching out his arm until the sunlight touched his fingertips. His flesh sealed together, and the mark was erased as if it had never happened.

Hannah told her that men who carry knives are reluctant to throw them, so she must learn to do with confidence what they could not. Ella had become a skilled marksman, but that wasn’t enough, so she learned how to trick her opponents through body language. Sometimes she carried a small push dagger in case her aim was off and she was close enough.

Simon sat up and poked his finger through the rip in his shirt. It wasn’t the only one, and that’s when she realized his tattered T-shirt wasn’t store-bought with holes included. They were souvenirs from his previous fights.

Simon was talking a mile a minute, and she couldn’t understand what he was saying. Except for one word: fool.

Ella wiped her bloody blade on his jeans and stood up.

* * *

W
ith the stunner
nestled deep in his chest, Simon tasted a flicker of emotion from Ella that left him perplexed. It was longing, but not sexual.

She extracted the blade slowly, and he groaned, forced to feel every inch of it as he wasn’t able to move until the metal was completely out.

“Clever. Now that you’ve executed the tactics of a
fool
, I know what I’m dealing with. An impulsive child who thinks she’s… Oi! These are my new jeans!”

Ella wiped her bloody blade on his trousers and angrily stood up. She turned her back to him and lifted her dress, enough that he caught a glimpse of her right ankle—bare and just as pale as her face. He watched her slide the modest blade into its sheath. When his blood heated and moved south, he grunted in irritation.

Simon rumpled his hair and surged to his feet, kicking up a cloud of dirt. The last thing he needed was to give his student the impression that he was attracted to her. Ella had a unique physical allure, but Simon had no desire to tangle with a loose cannon. As he peered over his shoulder at her wiping the dirt from her dress, he realized he’d never met a more confident woman in the face of danger. Many hesitated, some fled, and those who fought did so with trepidation. This one had the heart of a lion without any regard for her life.

A rare find indeed.

So why the bloody hell did Hannah think her skills were inferior?

When he reached out to take her hand, she folded her arms.

“Ah, the silent treatment now, is it? As you wish,” he said with a low bow and sweep of his arms.

Ella averted her eyes and took a belligerent stance.

“I was going to treat you to dinner, but I’d rather tell you to sod off. Moves like that won’t win you any medals in my class, you hear me? Of course you don’t. What happens if you lose your knife and have to fight up close? More wet willies? Perhaps a tongue up the nostril?”

He held out his hand once more, and she turned away, lifting her chin.

“For pity’s sake. You’ve got no choice in the matter. If Hannah doesn’t see you making an effort, she’s going to put out your light. Is that what you want?”

Simon crashed into her line of vision and demanded her attention. His anger was visceral as he spoke in slow words. “She will put out your light.”

Ella fell to her knees, her anger prickling against his skin like needles. Something was festering beneath her frustration—something dark that came from a place he knew all about. He crouched down in front of her, not really sure what to do.

She lowered her head as if trying to hide, and a tear trickled down her nose. Simon lifted her chin with the crook of his finger, forcing her to look at him. He didn’t like seeing tears; those were for the weak. She met his gaze, lips pressed tight, her cheeks ruddy.

“Tears don’t look good on you, love. Makes your nose all puffy and your eyes swell up.”

Her thoughts were silent. She had forged an impenetrable wall and denied him entrance.

“Don’t you ever smile? I think the only genuine one I’ve seen so far was for my hideous rendition of angsty rock music. Then again, it wouldn’t be the first time my singing has garnered a few laughs. You should have heard me sing ‘Born in the U.S.A.’ in my foreign accent at a karaoke bar.”

Ella laughed silently, and it arched her eyes in the most intriguing way, reminding him of nymphs he’d seen in paintings. The ruddiness in her complexion faded, and she wiped at her wet lashes.

“There now,” he said, squeezing her small hand. “Clearly you know how to move from what I saw on the dance floor. You’ve got skills, and I can help you refine them. That’s what I do; I sharpen all the tools in the box. No matter how cunning a fighter Hannah is, she still fights with fear. You won’t be on par with your enemy until you learn how to fight without a conscience.”

Ella remained silent, which bothered him.

“You’ve learned all you can within the confines of that room, so I’m going to show you what it’s like in the real world. I know a private stretch of land where we can train, but I don’t want you to wear the outfits Hannah makes you put on in the training room. It makes no sense to train in clothes you don’t wear. Dress as you normally would, because that’s how you’ll be fighting. I’d prefer it if Hannah didn’t doll you up in all that garb; a dress will impede your ability to move. I’ll find a way to work around that, even if it means cutting a slit down the middle.”

Ella pulled at the stretchy fabric of her dress. True, it wasn’t a complete hindrance, but he questioned how fast she could execute a high kick if she was busy hiking up her skirt.

Simon’s knees were beginning to lock, so he collected his sunglasses and stood up, walking toward the road with Ella’s shadow touching his heels. If he didn’t get something to eat soon, he was going to pass out. It was too nice a day to take the car, so they strolled down the road until they reached one of his favorite delis.

The bell jingled when he opened the door, and they approached the counter to look over the menu on the wall.

“How’s it going, Simon? Be with you in a minute,” the manager said, wrapping up an order.