Binds (12 page)

Okay, never mind about the ‘dislike most of the time’ statement. I hate this man, all of the time. Just when I am starting to see where he is coming from and feeling some sympathy for him, I am reminded that he is still a dick. Again.

I don’t dignify his statement with a reply. I stare at my nails and try to act as if I am alone, instead of seething with irritation at the man beside me.

Why does Spencer get to me so bad? Even Donovan, with his temper tantrums and power plays, never got under my skin like this. Sure, he scared the living shit out of me because I knew that with him I could end up broken and bruised if he was displeased with me. With Spencer, it’s like he is a splinter that is caught under a nail. He bothers the heck out of me and no matter how hard I try to ignore him, he will still be there with every movement I make, burrowing deeper and deeper into my skin and annoying me further. I can only take pleasure in the fact that I’ve noticed these looks on his face throughout the day that make me think I might just be a splinter under his nail as well.

The elevator dings, announcing our floor, but before the doors open, Spencer reaches over and hits the stop button, pausing my plan for rapid withdrawal from the too-small space. He leans into me with a menacing air and looks to be gathering his words when all of a sudden; the doors pop open, revealing Jinx and Reece behind him.

“See, I told you there was nothing wrong with the elevator,” Jinx calls back to Reece. “Spencer and Ophelia are just getting to know each other up in here.”

Oh crud, the way this must look. Spencer is right in my, no doubt, stoplight-red face and I just want to crawl out of the elevator and hide. Instead, I muster up every last ounce of dignity I have, try to match the intensity in his eyes, and ask, “Are we done here?”

He leans in even closer, his head now turned into my shoulder so closely that his mouth is actually touching my ear. “Just one more thing, Princess,” he utters low enough that only I can hear. I have to brace my legs against the sudden onslaught of sensation as his lips move over the shell of my ear. “My business is MY business. I’d appreciate it if you could keep it to yourself.” He withdraws but keeps his eyes locked on mine, as if waiting for confirmation.

Thankfully, I’m quick to get over my temporary befuddlement. “I’m not interested in that kind of thing with you, Spencer,” I reply coyly. I start to step away and through the doors, but turn my head back to say, “But if I was, I could wait for a bedroom. No need to get down in the elevator.”

With that, I glide past Jinx and Reece and hightail it out of there. I’ve barely cleared the next hallway by the time Reece catches up with me.

“Interesting day?” he asks as he puts an arm around my shoulder and pulls me in the direction of the kitchen. He looks nervous with worry in his eyes and a crease where his eyebrows meet in the center, like he’s waiting for me to rebuff him.

“I don’t know if I would call this day interesting, it was unquestionably an eye-opening one, though,” I answer truthfully. As we move closer to the kitchen, I’m noticing more and more people gathered around in the hall and doorways of rooms we pass.

Reece stiffens at my words, “…and why exactly would you think it was eye-opening? What all did Spencer tell you?”

“Don’t worry, Reece. I know about how you and Cass were involved with the explosion at that construction site. Spencer explained it to me, and although I wish it weren’t necessary, I get why you had to do it.” I turn my head to him and look in his warm shamrock eyes, trying to reassure him that I’m not judging him for what he had to do. “I’m sure you are carrying around enough guilt as it is, I mean all those men … just … gone. Please, don’t add worry about what I think on top of it.”

Immediately his arm relaxes around my shoulder again and the worry lines at his eyes are gone, replaced by his easy boyish grin. “Oh, good … yeah, the explosion. It is really hard dealing with that. It’s good that Spencer explained everything, but I wish you didn’t have to be involved, I mean, after everything you’ve already gone through with Donovan. I bet you’d rather be using your time to try to figure out your life now that you’re finally free of him, right? Not to escape, only to be dragged into some crazy, mixed up, good versus evil plot of Spencer’s.”

“I don’t know if any plot involving Spencer would be good versus evil, more like evil versus slightly less evil,” I respond. We’re entering the crowded kitchen when I recognize that I’ve come back to a celebration. People are toasting with champagne and talking animatedly about their success at getting rid of another reformatory. As much as I do understand why they would be happy about it—they’ve squashed Oberon’s ability to entrap more of their children—I’m still not comfortable with the merriment. Is it really okay to rejoice in another being’s demise? I don’t know, but I don’t want to be a part of it.

Reece notices my discomfort and edges me away from the kitchen entryway. “Come on, let’s get you changed, and then we’ll see about going out and getting you something to eat,” he says kindly to me.

“Oh, that would be great … only … besides those terrible PJs Cass let me borrow last night and the dirty clothes I’m wearing, I don’t have anything I could change into. Plus, Spencer said it would be dangerous for me to go anywhere right now. The NWO is probably out in full force, and they’ll be looking for me.”

“It’s all right, I probably have something you could wear,” Reece replies. “Where we are going is probably the last place Donovan or any of the NWO would be looking for you. Come on, it’s about time you start learning how to use Binds, don’t you think?”

He shoots me that crooked grin again and my excitement about finally learning Binds is enough to make me forget about Spencer’s warning and how worn-out I feel. He holds his arm out for me and I hook mine with his as we make our way to the corridor where Reece, Cass, and my rooms are located.

I pull my leg around and hop off of Reece’s silver Ducati crotch rocket, relieved to finally be off of it. Reece pulls his helmet off and smiles at me. “What, too fast for you?”

I glare at him. “If by too fast for me, you mean feeling like we were driving to my imminent doom, then that would be a yes.”

Reece gets off the bike, reaches into the backpack he’s wearing and produces a baseball cap, swapping it for the helmet in my hands. “Here, put this on scaredy cat,” he says. “And just so you know, I would never drive you to your imminent doom. Hopefully, I’ll be the guy driving you away from it. Always.”

I push up the arms of the sweatshirt he lent me and throw the ball cap over my hair. “That’s sweet, but I really think I might be better off taking a cab back to the building.” I don’t know if I’ll be able to walk after that ride, my legs are still shaking uncontrollably. I look up at the big red bull’s-eye on the building before us. “I don’t know if this get up will work for a Target,” I say of my baggy sweats ensemble. “The grungy hobo look is really better suited for a Wal-Mart.”

Reece laughs. “You’re right. I’m not sure if they’ll let you in. They cater to a classier clientele here.” He reaches up and plucks the hat from my head. “You’re killing me, smalls. This is supposed to be a disguise. Put your hair through the hole in the back and twist it or something. The more grungy hobo you look, the better. No one would expect Ophelia Brand to be at a Target, in sweats.”

I fix my hair and we enter the store. I expect everyone to be looking at and recognizing me, but to my surprise, no one even gives me a second glance. We grab a cart and set off towards the women’s department. I feel a sense of jubilation at being able to get some clothes of my own.

“Don’t worry about paying for anything. Whatever you need, just grab it and I’ll buy it, okay?” Reece says.

“Thank you, but that won’t be necessary,” I reply. “I still have the coin purse out of my clutch from the other night, and I always have a couple hundred dollars tucked away, you know, in case of emergency. So, I should be able to take care of it myself.”

“In case of emergency or in case of an opportunity for escape?” Reece questions knowingly.

I don’t answer, but we share a look that speaks thousands of words. Reece seems to know me so well. I guess spending two years watching me would do that though. In actuality, there is money tucked away in every single wallet or purse I own, stashed on the off chance that I might have seen my opportunity and finally marshaled up the courage to take it.

We continue on and I grab a couple pairs of jeans and some plain tank tops along with a hoodie then carry on to the intimate apparel section and grab a couple bras and some matching panties. I notice the smirk on Reece’s face as I throw a thong into the cart, but I ignore it. They’re just underwear, come on, what are we, five? He can handle it. Finally, I grab two sets of PJs and am done.

“That was probably the most impressive feat of womanry I have ever witnessed.” Reece says as we make our way to the checkout counters.

“What? Buying a bra without trying it on?” I ask.

“No, you just picked out a whole new wardrobe in less than ten minutes,” he says. “That’s got to be a world record or something. When Cass needs to go shopping, it’s a day-long excursion. I wait around and she tries on the same shirt in five different colors. This is probably the most pleasurable clothes shopping experience I’ve ever had.”

“Well, to be honest, it’s the first clothes shopping experience I’ve had in the last seven years,” I say. “Donovan always had people who did that for me. So, I guess I could say that you’re the best I’ve ever had too. Umm, I mean … you’re the shopping experience…no, this is the best shopping … ugh, you get what I mean.”

My face feels so hot right now, and I think I might be coming down with foot in mouth syndrome, but Reece just chuckles. “Yep, I am picking up what you’re putting down. Don’t worry about it.”

I pay for the clothes, and then Reece grabs my bags and directs me to the little café by the front of the store that has an attached Starbucks. We order coffees and I get a sandwich and some banana bread and we sit in one of the dark corners so I can eat.

“So,” I say between mouthfuls of sandwich, “teach me about Binds.”

Reece grins and wipes some crumbs from my chin with a napkin. “I love how eager you are to learn. Your enthusiasm will go a long way in helping you master it. Whatever you are trying to do with your Binds, you have to focus and really want it or the Bind won’t work.”

“Okay, focus and determination, check,” I try to put forth my most determined face. “What do I need to do next?”

It looks like Reece is trying not to laugh. “You don’t have to look angry, just clear your mind. See this napkin,” he points to the crumpled up one that he just used on me. “I want you to focus on it and try to push it off the table.”

“But how? Like telekinesis?” I am not following.

“Exactly like telekinesis. How do you think the commons ever learned about such a thing in the first place? Some careless Mage probably wasn’t paying attention and was caught performing a Bind in front of one of them. When you think about it though, that is the perfect description for what we do, move things with our minds.”

I shift in my seat while trying to keep my eyes on the napkin. “How is getting someone to fall asleep, moving things with your mind?”

“Well, what else could it be? If we can push inanimate objects like this napkin with our minds, why can’t we push an idea or suggestion into someone else’s head? Not everyone can do it, though. Most Mages don’t have enough power to perform a mind control Bind and most of the ones that do, don’t have very strong ability. They may be able to get someone to fall asleep or think that they are freezing cold, but the effect wouldn’t last very long. I, myself, have limited ability when it comes to those types of Binds. I was able to get you to fall asleep, but I think those bumps on the head that your husband gave you is the reason you stayed sleeping for so long.”

“Reece—” I break my stare down with the napkin because I am really not getting any sign that this is working for me. “My mother used to speak in Latin when I was a kid. I remember thinking that they were cuss words because I only caught her saying them every once in a while and when I did, she would act like she didn’t mean for me to hear them. Do you think she was the kind of Mage who needed to verbalize her Binds and that she used Latin to keep them a secret from me? And if so, do you think that I might need to use verbal commands for them to work for me too?”

At the mention of my mother, Reece takes on a somber air that makes me wonder what kind of memories he may have had of his own parents. I wonder what kind of childhood would create the sweet and easygoing person seated before me, the kind of person who would save a young girl from an orphanage and keep her from the fate of the other Mage children. The kind of person who would go against orders to save a woman from her abusive husband, just because he couldn’t stand to see her get hurt again.

“I don’t know for sure,” he replies. “But, there’s a good possibility that your mom was using another language for her Binds, especially if she didn’t want you to know about it. It’s worth a try.”