Married (23 page)

The Ngozi men hurled their next attacks simultaneously. Silver and red lit the room. Georgie felt a hard pull in her sternum as Silviu stepped directly into the light and raised both hands. Like staring at the sun, Georgie had to squint at the golden flow that pried the magic in half and slammed it back into the bodies of its respective owners. Muso gasped, Graves screamed.

Eliasz swooped in to wrap his arms around Graves. Silviu gripped the Ngozi man’s shoulder in a hold that had Graves’ face paling as his head lolled and his mouth went slack. Eliasz wrestled him into a chair and held him down.

Silviu turned to Muso with death in his eyes, his face emotionless. Georgie jumped forward. “No, Silver!”

Her words failed to soothe him. His lips were white slashes, his jaw granite. The wiry muscles of his arms and shoulders tensed and bulged. The oxygen in the room burned up in his rage. His fist clenched in Muso’s shirt as he hauled him off his feet. Silviu shook the man until Muso’s eyes rolled, gold pulsing steadily into his chest.

“My betrothed stood in the way of your magic, Muso.”

Muso’s legs kicked wildly. Silviu held him off the floor with a straining arm and a flare of gold magic. The Father’s legs couldn’t reach Silviu past the wall of light between them. The Ngozi shook his head.

“She should have moved.”

Silviu’s hand tightened, his voice softened. “She doesn’t have to move.
You
move for
her
. She is the Davenold heir, she is the Bane, she is my wife.”

“She’s a woman.”

“
My
woman.” Silviu’s voice was dangerously contained, never a good sign.

Georgie rushed forward to grab Silviu’s arm. Gold light blasted the guests with a solid showing of their connection, visible to all. It grew until it was blinding, locking her and the two men together in a yellow world that didn’t include the other diners. Silence settled over them with the somberness of a funeral shroud, broken only by Muso’s harsh pants.

“Silver, you can’t kill him. He’s the Ngozi Father.”

“He could have hurt you, Georgeanne.”

“His magic can’t ever hurt me. Please, Silver.”

The anger in Silviu’s eyes chilled her even as heat glowed in her chest. She rubbed her hand over the curve of his biceps. Muso’s head bobbled and Georgie could hear him struggling for breath.

“Too many are watching, Silver.”

Silviu speared Muso with a hard glare, shook him again until the man opened his bulging eyes and focused. “If my betrothed gets caught in your crosshairs again, I will flay the skin from your hide and strangle you to death with it. Do you understand me?”

Muso’s mouth worked, finally pushing out the word, “Yes.”

Silviu dropped the Father, Georgie released Silviu. The gold light faded and Silviu hefted Muso into another chair, where the man simply sat, slumped against the broken table, dragging in all the oxygen he could find.

The far side of the room still boasted war. Ngozis had chosen sides in the battle, Graves’ men clashing with Muso’s. Magic arced and zinged. Magically weak Levys were piling up at the door, desperate to get out. Silviu reached for Georgie’s hand and she felt the tug of his power as he directed it toward the fighters. A heartbeat later, they froze and separated, their eyes suspiciously blank.

“Get out,” Silviu commanded them. “You will spend the rest of the night in your rooms and not come out of them until the morning.”

They obeyed without hesitation. Daniel shot Silviu a look of surprise before running a hand through his hair. “What about them?” He nodded at Graves and Muso, both still dazed and weakened.

“Eliasz, help Daniel take Graves to his room.” Silviu reached down to heft Charles to his feet. “And you will escort Muso to his,” he told the Ngozi man. “They will both be watched and contained through the night.”

Silver power swirled in cadence with his voice, sinking deep into the body of the hotel’s chief of security. Georgie watched with wide eyes as Charles nodded robotically, reaching for Muso before Silviu even let him go. She narrowed her eyes at the magical manipulation of her betrothed’s voice, but Ileana’s worry broke through her thoughts.

“Georgeanne, your grandmother isn’t well.”

Georgie turned and took in the pallor of Madeleine’s face. Ileana’s anxiety became contagious as Georgie rushed to her grandmother’s side, breaking through Chris’ protective spell. The old woman’s skin sagged in yellowed folds, she struggled for breath. Her hand clutched at her chest and her pulse hammered in her throat.

Margaret’s fear was etched onto her face. She rubbed a soothing circle over her sister’s spine, staring up at Georgie with dark eyes. Georgie squatted down before the women, taking her grandmother’s chilly hand in her own.

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know,” Madeleine croaked. “There’s a coldness rising inside of me, worse than how I felt this morning. I can’t think, child. I can’t find the source and I can’t fight it off.”

“Magic was flying all over the place. Were you hit?”

“My spell is impenetrable,” Christiana snapped.

Georgie nodded, trusting her cousin’s claim. “And currently unnecessary.”

“I wasn’t caught by a spell.” Madeleine swallowed audibly. “I don’t know what happened, but it got worse when the fight broke out. It’s starting to ease now, but I feel as if whatever it is has locked down on me.”

“Can you stand?” Georgie straightened, stepping back to give the woman room to try as Christiana’s spell finally fizzled out.

Madeleine shifted to the edge of her seat and tensed, but fell back with a soft gasp. Silviu appeared at her side. “Allow me to help, Mother Davenold. Let’s make you comfortable and we’ll see if we can solve the problem.”

Silviu swung the old woman up in his arms as if he hefted a sack of feathers. Charles had already taken Muso out, and the Levy guests had departed. The only diners left were the Davenolds, Lovaszes and Daniel, manhandling Graves through the door behind Constance and her parents. Georgie was grateful when Silviu waited a moment more to keep any curious hall-loiterers from seeing him carry the Davenold Mother like a child.

* * * *

They piled into Madeleine’s suite and followed Silviu as he angled his burden through the doorway to the bedroom. Georgie ran forward to plump the pillows under her head, Margaret reached out to take the shoes from her sister’s feet.

“I want to investigate what type of spell this could be.” Christiana’s jaw worked, communicating her fear and anger. “Locator magic has a finite time to work properly, so if you don’t need me here—”

Silviu cut her off. “I think it’s too dangerous for you to go off by yourself just now.”

“I’ll go with her,” Ileana volunteered. “I can help with the spell, too. It’s complicated and might take a while to lead us where we need to go. “

“And I’ll stay with you tonight,” Margaret told Madeleine. “I’ll just go get my nightgown and come back.”

“We’ll go with you, Aunt Margaret,” Chris said, “to make certain you’re safe.”

“Do you think I’ll be attacked in the hall, dear?”

Ileana grimaced. “It’s best not to leave things to chance, tonight.”

Margaret relented and the women left the room. Silviu sat on the edge of the bed, lifting Madeleine’s hand. A soft mist formed around the old woman’s body but immediately shifted from silver to gold when Georgie stepped close and gripped her betrothed’s shoulder,.

“What are you doing, Silver?”

“I’m looking for traces of foreign magic in your grandmother, my love.” Silviu stared down at Madeleine, but the woman made no protest. She watched him with steady black eyes, letting him search.

Georgie held her silence, as well. She could feel the tension riding Silviu’s muscles, the rigidity of his spine. She could see the anger in his face and the hardness in his eyes. He had come dangerously close to showing his hand tonight, but only after she’d been caught by Muso’s magic.

Foolish. He knew she couldn’t be harmed by magic.

Minutes ticked by as Silviu’s face grew harsher. Instead of calming down, he got angrier. Tension mounted in him, growing until Georgie caught its edge and fidgeted. Silviu growled low in his throat and Madeleine gasped softly. He immediately let her go.

“My apologies.” His voice was strained as he stood up.

Madeleine waved a weak hand and pushed herself into a sitting position. “Not your fault.” She wiggled her toes and bent her knees, testing her body. “I feel better, child, thank you.”

Silviu inclined his head. “I couldn’t find the source, either. It feels like magic, but not one I recognize.”

“What kind of magic don’t you recognize?” Georgie couldn’t imagine it.

He shook his head, fury falling over his features. “I don’t know. There is no color to it, there is only the slightest sense that it even is magic, and it’s so ingrained in your grandmother that it’s difficult to distinguish its presence. The Davenold power she wields is fighting it, whatever it is.”

“So, what do we do?”

Silviu met Madeleine’s eyes, giving his answer to her, rather than Georgie. “We need to get you away from here. I would rather you be secure in the midst of your own Family, than the Ngozis’.”

“Impossible,” Madeleine argued. “I can’t refuse to do my duty as the High Seat. It would be grounds for dismissal, and you haven’t been sworn into the Council of Covens, yet. All our efforts would be undone if I am thrown out of my post before you’re ready to take it over.”

“What good will you do here if you’re ill?” he countered. “How can you call enough magic for the Sovereign Bestowal if all the magic inside you is fighting to keep you well against an unknown and unrecognized force?”

“You will simply have to trust me to do what’s best, Silviu.” Madeleine’s tone invited no argument. “Now both of you leave me so I may get changed. I’m feeling much better now, but I would like to rest, and I don’t wish to wear this dress for the remainder of the night.”

Silviu had no choice but to relent. Georgie could see how much angrier that made him, but he backed off with surprising grace. He offered Madeleine an abbreviated bow and dragged Georgie to the attached sitting room. They stepped through just as the door to the hall opened and Margaret entered.

She waved the bundle of clothes in her arms. “I brought my things. Eliasz Levy has joined the girls in their quest, Georgeanne.”

She nodded, waving Margaret through to the bedroom. “Grandmother is feeling better and getting changed.”

Without another word, Margaret left them to find her sister. Georgie sighed and moved toward the cabinet on the far side of the room. Hip height, it boasted a shockingly well-stocked mini bar. Georgie pulled out a tiny bottle of whiskey and drained it dry.

“I have had enough of these fucking Ngozis,” Silviu snarled.

“You and me both,” Georgie agreed. She turned to lean back against the counter, carefully putting the small bottle down with a click of glass on wood. She studied Silviu curiously, uncertain as to why his anger was still riding high.

He either translated her expression, or read her mind, because he answered her unspoken question immediately. “Your grandmother has done a lot for me in my life. Has given me a great deal. I’m fond of her. And for you, love. For you.”

Then his face closed down. Utterly expressionless, his eyes like lead, all traces of anger eradicated, but Georgie had learned that lesson in Poland. Silviu was a man whose true anger went unseen—when he wore it openly, it didn’t touch him as deeply. When he held it close, it surpassed words to describe it.

His voice turned lethally soft. “If you were anyone else, Georgeanne, Muso’s spell would have dropped you like a stone. He put everything he had into it. The Ngozis have little respect for women. He didn’t care that you were in the way.”

She shook her head. “I’m Bane, I’m fine. Your anger is unreasonable. We all—”

It was the wrong thing to say. He shot across the room, was on her before she could blink. His fury enclosed her, trapping her against the cabinet.

His lips crashed down on hers.

Chapter Twenty

Silviu

Her lips opened under his, but Silviu’s fury could not be soothed. Frustration rammed through him, heat chomped down on his spine and magic fired into golden life around them. His instincts snarled like a cornered beast and he wanted nothing more than to throw Georgie over his shoulder and walk away from it all.

Before he killed every Ngozi in the middle of their own stronghold.

He captured her mouth and conquered it. Her lips softened under his, an implicit surrender that she denied by nipping his lower lip. With a thrust of his tongue, he demanded her surrender, but Georgie met him with her own strength, refusing to submit. They dueled and tasted, each of them venting their frustration on the other. Silviu pressed closer, appreciating the height her heels gave her, remembering the aura of power cloaking her petite frame when she’d come down to dinner.

The fire inside him threatened to break free from his control. Magic swamped him, striking out at her. She was heat and laughter and challenge. She was everything he’d ever wanted and all that he’d ever been promised. The one thing in the world that was his alone, that his Family couldn’t take from him, that his grandfather couldn’t snatch away.

The taste of her filled Silviu’s head, her scent clogged his nose. Feeling Georgeanne against him became necessary to his survival, his sanity. She’d come too close to danger. He breathed her in and soaked her up, pressing for more, but it was never enough.

He hauled her to his chest, levering her up onto the cabinet at her back. The perfect height. He ripped his mouth from hers, pried open her knees and stepped between.

“I can’t have sex with you, Silver. I can’t lose my chance at Motherhood.”

Impatience clamped down on him with sharp teeth. “I’ve kept my distance. But I won’t wait much longer.”

She pulled back, gasping. “What about astral projection?”

“My spirit leaves my body. Makes me too vulnerable here.”

“But—”