Endless Magic (12 page)

He stood staring at me for a pensive moment, deciding whether or not to trust me. He nodded his reply and then left the room, closing the door behind him and locking it. I lay back on his bed and considered the stone ceiling above my head. Lunch would not be easy tomorrow, especially when the last time I was face to face with Sebastian's parents, his mother not only begged me for the life of her son, but made it perfectly clear she preferred me dead.

However, her son was not dead. Maybe because of that she would overlook the months of captivity and misery I forced Sebastian into. Maybe she would remember that I gave Sebastian back his magic.

Or more likely, she wouldn't.

I clutched Kiran's arm, holding desperately to him as if he were the one thing that could keep me from Bianca's wrath. He walked slowly, deliberately by my side glancing down occasionally as if the afternoon sun picked up my beauty in a way he'd never noticed before. My fingers dug deeply into his muscular bicep and I smoothed my strapless, pale pink eyelet sun dress of its nonexistent wrinkles.

Lucan, Analisa, Bianca and Jean Cartier waited for us patiently at an elegant outdoor patio table set up for lunch in the middle of Analisa's garden. This particular area of the garden, tucked behind the castle and in the middle of a maze of dirt pathways and overgrown flowers, was more delicately manicured. The round rosewood table sat in the center of the hedged maze with several dirt paths opening into the clearing. The twenty-foot hedged bushes encircled the space, with wild, vibrant roses and delicate pastel hydrangea and chrysanthemums alternating in the thick greenery, providing welcoming splashes of color. The flowers, like the rest of the garden, were clustered and chaotic, spreading frantically throughout the garden with no direction or discipline, the symbol of utter freedom inside walls that choked on the very idea.

Despite the tall hedges, the wall of bushes did not block out the sun shining above and so the table was covered with a white satin umbrella providing just enough shade for the guests around the table. The table itself was decorated with an ivory lace tablecloth and an elaborate display of flowers picked from this same garden where we sat. Place settings of fine china and expensive silver made the table come alive like a living piece of art, and pretty pink, champagne cocktails helped the guests quench their thirst.

I leaned into Kiran, pressing my face against his arm. I tried to breathe steadily, but the memories of Bianca begging me to save her only son in the upstairs office of an underground French nightclub had haunted me for months now. Even though Sebastian was healthy and alive today, I still couldn't forget her determined pleading and ice-cold gaze with which, if she could have simply wished me dead, I would have been. Her long, golden hair had thrashed about her like ocean waves in the middle of a storm and her icy blue eyes, identical to Lucan's, bore through my soul.

Her inexpressive, nonverbal and aloof husband, Duke Jean Cartier, was no better. His cool, indifferent silence was disconcerting at first, but any feeling of dread or anxiety quickly turned to outright fear as soon as he opened his mouth and leveled his threats.

At the club, with the help of adrenaline, I never felt fear or panic. There was no need. At that time, the only thing I had to lose was Avalon and part of me had already grieved his loss while the other part fought like a madman to save him. Now, with innocent people locked away in a filthy, horrifying prison, only kept alive by Lucan's good grace and my ability not to screw up, I faced a lot more to fear. I prayed I would be able to bite my tongue, to resist from arguing and portray the kind of Oscar-winning performance I knew it would take to convince anyone near that Kiran and I were in love. Even mildly.

Kiran, noticing my staggered breathing and reluctant steps, took a detour into a small alcove just off the path. The whole table had been watching our approach and I wondered what they would think of his action. I dropped my arm from his the second we were hidden from view and put my hands on my hips firmly, letting out a slow, measured breath to steady my nerves.

“Oh, God,” I sighed. I looked up at Kiran, hoping to borrow some of his unshakable confidence.

“What is wrong with you?” he asked. He smiled gently at me, amused with my nerves.

“Ugh.... I don't know!” I groaned. “It's your aunt, she just.... I don't know what it is about her, but she unnerves me.” I wiped at my forehead with the back of my hand, removing the small droplets of perspiration that had been drawn out by the exhaustive heat of the late June afternoon.

“Eden, magic....” Kiran reminded me sweetly, rubbing his thumb across my temple, catching a bead of sweat. I relaxed a little, thankful for his reminder and sent the boiling magic through my blood working the electricity in my magical Immortal way that cooled my inner body temperature and forced my body to relax. The same gesture, in extreme cold, would heat my body just as quickly. “What is it about my Aunt Bianca that is so disturbing to you?”

Kiran worked undauntedly at pretending to be in love with me all morning. Ever since he knocked on his own bedroom door and offered the pink sundress as a gift, I could see the concerted effort he put forth to make being in “pretend” love with him easy. I knew he was as protective and worried for the prisoner's as I was and that made today feel more like a truce than anything else. We were working together today, with the same goal in mind. When I thought about it like that, and appreciated his sensitive discretion in the moment, I could breathe easier, relax a little more, turn my eyes at him with faux adoration and slip my hand into his as if it eternally belonged there.

“I don't know,” I admitted, thinking it over thoroughly. “I think it actually all has to do with Sebastian.... She begged me, Kiran, literally begged me, to give Sebastian back his magic and I looked her in the eyes and coldly told her I planned on killing him instead.” A shiver ran down my back at the memory of it and I involuntarily shuttered. Kiran put his hands soothingly on my forearms and pulled me forward until I was only inches from him. “Obviously, I didn't follow through with my threat, but still I promised a mother that I planned on killing her only son in cold blood. That's why she bothers me.”

“I don't think she so much bothers you as the memory of your intended actions do. In that moment, you remember yourself as a cold-blooded killer, even if you didn't follow through. And not only that, you were cruel to her. I'm not saying you didn't have a right, because you obviously had just been through hell, but generally threats and murderous intentions are not in your nature.” He smiled down at me, lifting my chin with his finger.

“This is quite the performance!” Sebastian popped his head into our alcove utterly amused with our private pep talk. “Too bad, none of them can see you, so it's all utterly pointless!” Sebastian jerked his thumb toward the still waiting group of adults and gave us a disapproving glare.

“Are you sure murderous intentions are not in my nature?” I turned back to Kiran. I couldn't hold back any longer and broke out into a smile.

He gave a barking laugh and then pulled me into his arms, surprising me with a familiar kiss on the top of the head. I stood there stunned in the moment, my face pressed against his chest and his arms around my shoulder. Abruptly, he pushed me away as if he had just come back to himself and stared awkwardly at my white, strappy stilettos that were sinking into the dirt ground.

“He's right,” I agreed with Sebastian, although his interruption had unexplainably gotten under my skin, “we better save the good stuff for your dad.”

I linked my arm with his again, only this time it was natural. Our truce continued today and after his encouragement I felt myself relax and rest against him. Lunch, no matter how cold and aloof these people were, was going to be difficult, and even if Kiran and I were not on the same side of this war, today we were fighting the same battle.

We approached the table with effortless magnetism, as if we had rehearsed this scene a hundred times. I waited patiently for Kiran to pull out my chair, and when I sat down, he gallantly pushed me forward and then bent forward to press an intimate kiss on my earlobe. His lips lingered against my skin for a few uncomfortable moments until I placed a gentle hand against his cheek to remind him we were in the presence of others. He stood up reluctantly then, and took the seat to my left.

Once we were seated, the servants rushed forward through the open spaces of the hedges with covered silver platters and served us. Champagne was refilled for the adults who had been waiting and lunch respectfully began with Lucan's first bite and nod for everyone to join him. I pushed the salad around my cold appetizer plate, mentally hating the idea of trying to look ladylike while shoving drooping, dressing drenched lettuce into my mouth. Salad was hardly an attractive course to eat while trying to impress people.

“I trust you had a safe and pleasant trip, sister?” Lucan broke the silence first, looking at his sister with revered admiration.

“Yes, perfectly pleasant. Thank you for hosting us brother, it makes our journey so convenient.” She smiled back at her younger brother, King of the Immortals, and I wondered if I was the only one who noticed her smile not reach her eyes.

The conversation broke up then, Lucan turning specifically to Jean Cartier and entering a conversation about the game available to hunt in the mountains during this season, while Analisa turned to Bianca and whispered polite conversational pieces I imagined all royalty were capable of filling awkward silences with. I breathed a sigh of relief and sunk back into my chair a little, happy to not be the center of attention for once.

The servants returned after a while to clear our salad plates and replace them with dainty cold sandwiches. These seemed a little easier to eat while pretending to be polite and so I started to pick up a triangle stuffed with ham salad and a pickle when Kiran coughed gently to my left and I turned to him. He glanced down at his plate and when I followed his gaze I saw him cut the sandwich with a knife and fork and bring it elegantly to his mouth. I smiled with genuine gratitude, feeling incredibly foolish, following suit with the same knife and fork setting he used.

The adults continued to talk, hardly paying any attention to our side of the table. Sebastian sat to my right and I had expected him to engage me at any moment with amusing conversation but he sat stoically still watching his mother with a kind of pained nervousness on his face.

“In three seconds my father will change the subject to fishing,” Kiran leaned toward me, whispering conspiratorially. He made a show of tapping his finger on the delicate lace tablecloth counting the seconds and at the exact moment his finger hit the table a third time, his father changed the subject to the variety of stream fishing the mountains had to offer.

I suppressed a laugh, by lifting my cloth napkin and covering my mouth “How did you do that?” I whispered, leaning toward Kiran so that our bodies were now inclined toward each other.

“It's a gift,” he admitted with a gleam in his twinkling turquoise eyes. “In exactly four and a half minutes the subject will change to the expected weather for the festival and in exactly six minutes and thirty three seconds after that Uncle Jean will ask about my father's problem with the Shape-shifter infestation.”

“No way!” I gasped. “You cannot possibly know the direction of the conversation down to the second!” I leaned in even closer so that my disbelief would not be heard over the polite conversation that was happening around the rest of the table.

“Well, Ok, maybe not down to the exact second, but I swear, these two men have held the exact same conversation since before I was born and I'm starting to believe if they didn't follow this unspoken agenda, their eyeballs would burst into flames and they would fall over dead,” Kiran finished dramatically.

I couldn't stop the laughter then, so I grabbed my napkin and dipped my head down. “Is that all it would take?” I struggled to whisper against my napkin, “I might as well give it a shot!”

I opened my mouth to interrupt Lucan without any hesitation, when Kiran suddenly put his arm around my shoulders and tilted his mouth against my ear. “You wouldn't dare....” he pleaded good-humoredly and I was thankful that he knew I was joking.

“Maybe I would,” I teased. His thumb moved back and forth across my shoulder in a possessive gesture of affection and I remembered that we were supposed to be pretending to be in love.

I turned my head, trying to think of something romantic to whisper to Kiran louder than I intended to, but his eyes met mine in an intense gaze that stunned me for a moment. I racked my brain trying to decipher what he could be trying to tell me, but until that moment I thought we were flying through lunch casually in love.

“Eden, I was so happy to hear you joined Kiran in the Citadel,” Bianca's voice rang out like a bell from across the table.

I jerked my head around and sat befuddled for a moment. I was frustrated with her obvious lack of real knowledge about anything in this kingdom and still cowering beneath her stone-cold gaze, her crystal clear blue eyes scrutinizing my every breath. In an attempt to comfort me and assure his father, Kiran pulled me closer against his body, his opposite arm reaching across his chest to hold my hand and then pressed his lips against my hair in meditative stillness. All eyes turned to us and if the party around us hadn't known better we would have appeared to be an emphatically in love young couple.

“Yes, thank you,” I responded to Bianca automatically. I could not afford to ruffle Lucan's feathers and so instead of responding with sarcasm, I traced my thumb across Kiran's palm to drive in the point that I would do anything it took to keep
my
people safe.

“I believe I, I mean, we owe you a great deal of gratitude for the health of our son,” Bianca continued, her voice lacking the conviction a true expression of gratitude would have conveyed.

“Let us not forget who took his magic to begin with,” Lucan reprimanded loudly, interrupting Bianca before she had a chance to say more.