Page 33 of Bound
Chapter 12
Gage
“That’s a rare magick,” Horan rumbles across from me. The hall is empty save for myself, the fallen angel, and the demon like a dark sentinel by the door.
I nod, but even that motion seems stiff.
Amoret’s magick …
Her touch was like blessed coolness after years of being under the heat of the sun. She was like a fucking oasis in a desert. I want her to splay her silken palms over every inch of my body.
She should not have been able to be close to my fire. Let alone touch it. Cradle it with what looked like marvel and adoration on her doll-like features.
She should fear it. Fear me.
And yet, if she ever did …
I scrub my hand over my face and then pull idly at my plait. “Makes me wonder what other rarities were in the damn envoy,” I mutter.
Horan scoffs. “Don’t think it will help them. As soon as I walked in the damn suite earlier I felt the tech,” he tells me. “How the other ones are dealing with it, I have no idea.”
That makes me appraise him. “You felt it too?”
He nods. “Maybe it’s the location of the hotel. Or all the modern embellishments. But the damn place reeks of electricity.”
Turning on my heel, I slip back inside the suite and scour the space. The guards are at the table, idly polishing swords and dirks. I stalk over.
“Who arranged the suite for your envoy?” I demand.
They both look up and then past me, no doubt taking in the demon and the angel tight to my heels.
“It was appropriated by Jarrah, Captain Whitehorn,” Vish tells me, his dark eyes round. “He was to find residence for our stay.”
Caine makes a sound behind me. “And no one thought to suggest Lock Lake?” he says sardonically. “The colony house caters to supes of all kinds. You wouldn’t be in a gilded cage.”
It's such a mirror to my thoughts inside the elevator earlier that I look at him. He just shrugs.
“Lord Branwen approved the choice. Felt it would negate favoritism for the lords to be free of the trial proceedings at the end of every day. To find distance.” Vish peers at his companion, who nods. Vish exhales. “None of us felt right from the moment we arrived. We tried to speak to the captain about it, to request a different space but …”
I step closer as he trails off. “But what?”
“The human councilman arrived and preparations for their night in the city commenced. We never got a chance,” Vish finishes.
I blow out an annoyed puff of air before walking several paces away. Caine and Horan follow.
The angel crosses his arms. “Coincidence?”
Caine snorts. “Not in our line of work.”
For once, I don’t disagree.
“That gives us two options,” I say. “Jarrah or Ralf.”
“You want to implicate a councilman?” Horan asks, one brow arching.
“No,” I say. “But we need to be looking for someone local. Someone that could scope out the building. The club. Who could guarantee the Fae were somewhere quiet enough to take them.”
“And with the suite under high surveillance, that wouldn’t work here,” Caine mutters. “There are more than just cameras. This place is high profile.”
