Married (6 page)

“If you don’t mind playing with your pet later,” he all but growled, “we’d like to be shown our rooms.”

“I shall play with my pet whenever I choose.”

Eliasz’s voice turned dangerous. “Perhaps your hospitality would be better served if you didn’t hold the girl as if she were your prisoner. Guests might take offense.”

“Who might?” Graves flung the girl away. She staggered but caught her balance quickly, agile as a cat as she spun away and fled the room without a backward glance. Silviu couldn’t blame her.

“Who?” Graves repeated, unconcerned with the flight of the woman. His eyes glinted as they fell on Ileana and he slid forward quickly, hands lifting before Eliasz or Silviu could move to stop him.

He was uncommonly quick.

Graves’ hands rose to curve around Ileana’s full breasts. “Will you be insulted because I did not share my love with you, angel?”

Eliasz grabbed his host by his collar and hauled him back with enough force to throw him off balance. Graves was clearly caught by surprise, but laughed at the anger blazing over his guest’s face. Eliasz shook with the effort of maintaining his control.

Silviu stepped in front of his sister as casually as he could, brutally reining in his own anger. Her hand fisted against his back, trembling.

“You will be insulted then, Eliasz Levy,” Graves mocked. “Because your angel was not given my love quickly enough?”

Eliasz’s eyes promised death. “You don’t touch her. Ever.”

Graves tsked. “It’s good manners to share, my friend. I share my home, you share your angel.”

“You don’t touch her,” Eliasz repeated, looking too close to losing all control. His fists clenched rhythmically, his lips were hard slashes in his pale face and his eyes turned hard and uncompromising.

Silviu cleared his throat. “Graves, you should know patriarchal men don’t like to share their women, especially when the blood on the betrothal contract is still wet.”

“Signed in blood, eh?” Graves shrugged, once again unconcerned. “Blood means no getting away from that one. I didn’t do that.”

“You didn’t set your agreement with Constance in blood?” Silviu flashed a look at Eliasz, silently commanding him to keep his temper.

“Why should I? One day I might want to get rid of her. Murder of a Levy such as Constance is not always an option.” Graves let a rolling laugh loose from his chest. “Divorce would be more convenient.”

Silviu struggled to show no emotion at all. Not confusion or anger, not the deep caution that filled him when he imagined Georgie squaring off against this man. And he knew she would. His little spitfire didn’t yet have the wisdom to control her tongue.

His host wouldn’t help matters, either. Silviu was beginning to suspect the man had undisclosed psychological issues. “Marriage is forever, Graves, in the witching world. There is no divorce.”

“Until death do us part,” their odd host agreed. “But only because of the blood seal. I have days to play before my marriage and even after, I’ll play if I choose.” He turned to study Eliasz. “What say we share, friend? I’ll take your angel for a night and you can take my tigress, Constance, hmm? She can do things with her mouth that make you melt into the mattress. I’ll teach the angel how to do that, too, and then she will better please you when I decide to return her.”

He was saved from Eliasz’s wrath by the entry of another man, this one dressed entirely in black. He was little more than a shadow in the darkness of the lobby, but Graves seemed to sense his entrance the moment the man stepped through the doorway behind the check-in counter.

Graves spun on the newcomer. “What are you doing, Charles? You are supposed to watch my pet and make certain she doesn’t slip through the cracks and run back to her mama.”

“You’ve already taken care of that. Besides, she’s in her room crying all over that damned cat you let her bring.”

“Then what do you want?”

“Constance asked me to find you and send you to her room. She wished to discuss something with you.”

Some unnamable emotion swept over Graves’ features. Softness came to his dark eyes and a modicum of tension fell from his shoulders. Then a feral smile tugged his lips and his teeth snapped.

He turned that hard expression on Silviu. “You will excuse me. My beautiful tigress needs me, of course. Charles will send you to your rooms, as soon as he finds an empty one for you, as you are uninvited.”

Silviu lifted an eyebrow. “Yes, of course. Take your time.”

“Charles,” Graves stalked toward the man while his voice filled the lobby, “perhaps you will give Eliasz Levy and Silviu Lovasz the room meant for the newly betrothed couple Daniel is so
fond
of. Find a separate room for the angel close to mine, so my prayers may be answered in the night.”

Charles’ gaze crashed into Silviu’s. Tension swelled between them, a silent war of testosterone, a measuring of men. Silviu didn’t flinch, didn’t even feel the need to. He already knew who would win the test of wills. The other man’s hand rose to twitch a long braid over his shoulder and Silviu felt his opponent’s arrogance give way.

Charles waited for Graves to leave the room before grimacing. “Please wait here for a moment while I find an empty room for you…Mr. Silviu Lovasz.”

As the man left, Eliasz hefted a brow and murmured, “
That
smacked of respect, at least.”

Silviu shook his head. “If it wasn’t for the Davenolds being forced into attendance, none of us would be staying here. You two don’t have to—”

The other man cut him off. “I’m here at Daniel’s request and he holds the decision to put me on the Council in his hands. I want that seat, Silviu, and you need me to get it, but I’m not his first choice. I have to fucking pander.”

Frustration began to gnaw on Silviu’s brainstem. The Levys weren’t very keen on placing Eliasz, one of the strongest witches in their Family, in a position of even greater strength. But Silviu very much wanted his brother-in-law in a place that would favor his own goals. He was neatly caught.

“This is all very bizarre and I don’t like it. We’ll have to keep our eyes and ears open.”

“You think, Silver?” Ileana poked him in the back and slid around his body to press against Eliasz. “That is the strangest man I’ve ever met, and I grew up with Alexandru Lovasz for a grandfather.”

Silviu nodded in complete agreement. His grandfather might be a bully who was slowly slipping into senility, but there was nothing absent-minded about Graves’ odd behavior. For as mad as he may be, calculation gleamed in the man’s eyes, and menace radiated from his body.

“You will be careful, Iley,” he told his sister.

“Careful, hell.” Eliasz snorted. “You will not leave my sight, Ileana.”

She hummed. “I can work within those guidelines. What are you going to do about Georgie, though, Silver?”

He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Pray she doesn’t kill our host.”

Chapter Five

Tulah

“You must not be seen.”

“I know, Mama.” Tulah folded her shirt and laid it on the end of the bed before stretching her naked limbs.

Chelsea’s face contorted into anxious lines. “I’m worried about you. If they notice two cats, Tulah, we—”

“
I know
, Mama, but it would take a sharp eye to tell us apart. Our markings are nearly identical.”

They’d been at the hotel for the longest week of Tulah’s life, but they’d managed to keep their secrets. Graves’ attention was focused elsewhere for the most part, though he took every opportunity to force Tulah to his will, trying to break her and her spirit. To humiliate her.

She refused to give him the satisfaction.

Her stubbornness seemed to amuse Graves even as it offended him. Though his attacks became more outrageous, he hadn’t hit her again after that first strike at her home. Her cheek had blossomed with a deep violet bruise—a mark she wore defiantly, hoping it would last long enough to offer the Family Father evidence of Graves’ abuse. Magic could heal wounds, but nothing except time could take away the bruises.

Time was not on her side. Tulah felt a perverse regret for Graves’ newfound self-control as the damage to her face had faded into a faint yellow sheen over her cheekbone Muso probably wouldn’t even notice. So instead of physical abuse, Tulah had to put up with Graves’ public molestation.

For days he’d been manhandling her body solely to soothe his ego and remind her of her powerlessness, as he had the previous night in front of his new guests. Not that Graves touched her with lust. That emotion was reserved for his betrothed and her father—a situation that left Tulah vaguely ill and unwilling to speculate as to just how crowded their bed might be.

Chelsea’s worry interrupted Tulah’s thoughts. “I’ve heard that Silviu Lovasz is sharp enough to notice the difference between two black cats.”

Even banished from the Family, rumors had reached them of the youngest Lovasz son. He was almost a celebrity. He was said to be powerful and cool under pressure, maybe even cold. He was a patriarchal witch due to marry the heir of the most powerful Matriarch. An extraordinary situation among the fiercely divided covens.

Tulah wondered if he would help her, but immediately dismissed the idea. It wasn’t Silviu’s eyes that went hard at Graves’ behavior—but Eliasz Levy would have to obey his Family Father. Daniel had seen Graves in action already and said nothing, only let his lips curve in a line that spoke of both amusement and revulsion.

Tulah offered a weak smile. “I’ll be fine.”

Chelsea only sighed, clearly unconvinced. Tulah’s chest tightened in an unvoiced admittance that what she was about to do was not only foolish, but dangerous. Still, it was worth the risk if she could ferret out anything that would gain her and her mother an edge over Graves.

“Mama, if this bothers you so much, you could always stay in here.” Tulah waved to encompass the cramped, dark room she’d been given. Barely larger than a closet, the space was oppressive with overdone wallpaper and matching burgundy carpet and drapes. “Then there would only be one cat on the prowl.”

Her mother fidgeted for a moment, clearly debating her choices. But, in the end she gave a sharp nod. “We will both go. This is too important.”

“Yes.” Without another word Tulah let her magic flow free, not waiting for her mother to change her mind again.

Warmth spread through her muscles as she released her magic. She freed it from the ruthless control she wielded over it, letting it roar up within her to burst through her skin and distort the air around her body. It shifted and swirled until indigo highlights flickered like fireflies. Her ears rang for a moment, her muscles jangled in warning. In the spotted mirror over the battered vanity, Tulah watched her human body dissolve and pour over itself.

There was a blaze of magic, a pull on her spine, and Tulah took her cat form. Painless and quick with a satisfying surge of power in her heart. She loved her talent, the only magic she had, and she loved that she could change so well, adored how much less vulnerable she felt in this form, with agility and claws at her disposal.

A wasted confidence. Graves could kill her no matter what she looked like.

Tulah pushed the thought away as she stretched. She rolled her spine and reached out, translucent claws spearing from her black paws to dig into the ugly carpet. Tulah spent an extra minute doing her best to tear the worn fabric into ribbons, but it was too resilient, forcing her to give up and focus on her task.

Sighing, Chelsea stroked her daughter’s head before reaching to crack the door open. Tulah knew the hallway beyond was empty, but her mother still pressed her eye to the opening to double-check before pulling back to release her own magic.

Within moments, one black cat had become two, and the pair wriggled past the door, taking off in separate directions. Chelsea would investigate the ground floor while Tulah concentrated on the third. The majority of the second floor was empty, still waiting for the rest of the guests scheduled to arrive over the next few days.

If she could, Tulah would have used the opportunity to slip from the hotel, to simply leave with her mother and run, far and fast. But she knew better now. When she’d tried to find refuge in the half-dead garden behind the hotel the first day of her imprisonment, she’d been brought down by a brutal spell. The moment her foot—in human form, thank all that she held holy—had crossed the threshold, undiluted pain had speared through her. Flames had wrapped her senses in agony until, as she convulsed on the floor, Charles had arrived to save her. He’d taken great delight in informing her that she could not leave the hotel.

Silently, Tulah quickly slipped through the quiet halls and climbed the stairs with light leaps. The hotel was shaped like a V, and she immediately moved to the left, where the tingle of magic was barely felt. Her ears twitched, straining for any useful tidbit she might overhear. She passed no one.

Tulah looked for any piece of information that would help her and her mother win Muso’s support of their freedom from Graves’ sadistic control, but the fact-finding mission proved futile. Thirty minutes later, Tulah had investigated most of the rooms in the left wing and had found nothing to suggest any plot by Graves—no papers revealing an evil scheme, no gossip shared amongst the few residents and even fewer guests. Most of the rooms were unoccupied, and she retraced her path down the corridor toward the wing where the Family suites were.

She slowed her steps, slinking close to the wall. Her whiskers twitched at the sensation of magic, a cold pressure along her spine that warned her of protection spells and God only knew what else. Part of her was terrified the same spell that kept her indoors would be used to keep her out of the Family wing, a place she’d specifically been forbidden to enter.

Her skin flinched in a long roll down her back and over her haunches. Phantom claws raked her head as she inched forward, nearly crawling as she pressed through a thick, invisible barrier. Magic clamped down on her, but she wiggled through the resistance without pain.