Broken Bonds by Keri Arthur

Chapter Eight

Ididn’t reach for the subpoena. I just stared at it in … revulsion? Fear? Dread?

Part of me wished I could ignore it. The other part wanted nothing more than to blast the thing with magic and send it to paper hell.

Neither option would make any difference to the events now set in motion, but the latter would have at least made me feel a little better.

I put my cup down and crossed my arms to hide the sudden trembling of my hands. “Why can’t they cross-examine me remotely?”

“Sophie did try for that option, but your father’s counsel insisted they be given the chance to question you face-to-face.”

“Intimidate face-to-face, you mean,” Belle muttered. “They’re bastards. All of them.”

“Most lawyers are,” Eli said. “At least they are when they’re in the courtroom defending their clients. To be honest, that’s what they’re paid the big money for.”

“I take it then that the Lantern’s lawyers will be doing the exact same thing to Lawrence?” Belle said. “Or will his position on the high council offer him a consideration Liz will never get?”

“Oh, he’ll be getting the full treatment, never worry about that.” Ashworth’s smile held an edge. “Of course, it’s pretty obvious from the comments that have been made in recent weeks that your father believes you won’t actually go through with the case. That, when push comes to shove, family loyalty will come to the fore and you’ll ask for the proceedings to be dropped.”

I snorted. “If he believes that, then he really doesn’t know me at all well.”

“And let’s face it, he doesn’t,” Belle commented. “Even after you all but bested him and Clayton here in the reservation, it was pretty obvious he has no idea of your true strength—and I’m not talking about your magical strength.”

“Ah, but you forget, nothing is more important than magical strength.” Nothing except, perhaps, his own reputation. I returned my gaze to Ashworth and asked curiously, “If I did happen to ask the Society to drop the case—and I’m not—would they? They’ve already got the memory scan recording taken by their truth seeker and auditor. Even without me there in person, surely that would provide enough evidence for at least some sort of court ruling.”

“In regular cases, yes. But this is the first time such a high-profile figure has been indicted for magically forcing an unwilling minor into marriage. In many respects, it will be a test case.”

“Fabulous,” I muttered. “The fate of future unwilling child brides now rests on my damn shoulders.”

“Not really,” Eli said. “Because even if your father is in the end acquitted, the mere fact it made the court will send a warning to others.”

But would it stop them? Likely not. I took a deep breath that did nothing to calm the churning in my gut. “How long will I have to be in Canberra?”

“With Clayton and the priest now dead, the main testimony will come from your parents and yourself, so I can’t imagine the trial will last too long. Certainly no longer than a week.”

“Which is six days too long, if you ask me,” I muttered.

“Eli and I will be there with you, lass,” Ashworth said. “There’s no way we would let you face this alone.”

“And with all of us there, your damn father won’t dare try anything,” Belle said.

My gaze cut to hers. “I can’t risk you being there, Belle.”

Her silver eyes sparked dangerously. “You can’t risk me not being there. I’m your damn familiar.”

“Yes, and that’s precisely why you have to remain here. I don’t want another hostage situation.”

“Lawrence isn’t stupid,” Eli said. “He wouldn’t dare—”

“Everyone also thought Clayton wouldn’t dare,” I cut in. “And do you honestly think my father had absolutely no idea what Clayton intended? Because I have a coat-hanger-shaped bridge to sell you if you do.”

“I have no doubt your father was well aware Clayton was unstable,” Ashworth said. “But I doubt he expected the situation would dissolve as badly as it did.”

“He knew Belle was in danger. Don’t ever doubt that, Ashworth.”

“I don’t, but there is no way he would ever have expected Clayton to turn on him.”

“That would be his natural arrogance rather than any sort of logical thinking,” I said. “And you can damn well believe that if he hadn’t been shot, he’d have used Clayton’s kidnapping of Belle to his own advantage.”

“Perhaps,” Ashworth said. “It’s a question the Society will be asking during the trial—and remember, threatening a familiar is a very serious offence.”

“Possibly more so than forcing marriage,” Eli said. “They’ve been happening for centuries and have an undercurrent of acceptance, even if it is against the law these days.”

“Threatening familiars has underground acceptance too, and we all know it.”

And that’s the reason I have to come, Belle said. You can’t trust your father, and there’s no guarantee he won’t attempt to snatch me the minute you step into Canberra. Don’t think he won’t have people following your every movement.

Yes, but you’ll have Monty here, and there’s no way known he’ll ever allow anyone to hurt you.

The punch he’d landed on Clayton’s jaw was proof enough of that.

She studied me for several seconds through narrowed eyes before growling, You know this is a stupid move.

My gut says otherwise. Please, Belle, don’t argue with me on this. Don’t make me force the issue. I need you here.

Need? Her eyebrows rose. That sounds as if it’s more than just a safety concern.

I have nothing to base this on, and it may well just be the fear that, if you did step into Canberra, things might go ass up, but … I hesitated. Remember my suspicion that I will never be able to leave the reservation permanently?

Yes, but that doesn’t apply in this situation.

Doesn’t it? I’ve never gone away from the reservation for more than a day or so.

Seven days isn’t long. And you can make Katie aware that you’ll be back.

It’s not Katie I’m worried about. It’s the wilder magic—the stuff she doesn’t control. The stuff I was becoming more attached to.

Fair enough, but I still can’t see how that in any way prevents me from accompanying you.

If you’re here, the wild magic knows I’ll be back.

The wild magic isn’t sentient.

We can’t ever be sure of that. Not now that Katie is a part of it.

Belle blew out a frustrated breath. You’re forgetting one thing—neither the wild magic nor Katie can actually do anything without you as their conduit.

“I take it,” Ashworth said, voice dry, “there’s a somewhat heated telepathic conversation happening between you two.”

“I’m just trying to talk sense into her,” Belle said. “And she’s throwing nonsense in response.”

“Risking the stability of the wild magic is not nonsense,” I growled. “I know the wellspring is protected by multiple layers of our combined spells, but given those same spells no longer prevent the threads of wild magic roaming the reservation, none of us can know what else they won’t stop.”

“There’s never been a case of wild magic in and of itself becoming dangerous,” Eli commented. “The danger usually comes from the dark entities who seek to corrupt its power.”

“There’s never been a witch born with wild magic infused in her DNA, either,” I said. “So, unless that book you’re transcribing has some concrete information about wellsprings and the wild magic’s interaction with witches, we’re all working on presumptions that may never have been true.”

“Have you found anything of note in that book as yet?” Belle asked.

Eli shook his head. “There’s nothing but a lot of nonsense about the creation of the world and the entities and powers that infused her with life and energy at the moment.”

“And you can’t skip ahead a chapter or two?” I asked.

“I can’t risk missing a nugget hidden amongst the nonsense.”

I grimaced. While I utterly understood the need for patience, I also desperately wanted to understand what was happening to me and just how far and deep the connection to the reservation’s wellsprings and their magic could or would go.

Ashworth tapped the papers on the table. “You’re arguing a moot point. You’ve both been subpoenaed.”

“Why would Belle be—” I stopped. She’d been subpoenaed for the very reason I was trying to prevent her from going—she was my familiar. She could testify to my state of mind and my actions at the time. I took a deep breath and released it slowly. “I guess the choice has been taken from us.”

“Yes. And let’s just hope your fears about the wild magic don’t bear fruit,” Eli said.

“If they do, this reservation won’t know what hit it.”

Katie wouldn’t allow anything bad to happen, Belle said. She infused so she can protect those she loves, not harm them.

Yes, but in doing so, I think she’s given the wild magic some kind of sentience. That sentience seems to have attached itself to me. And yes, it’s absolutely possible I’m overthinking things again and that nothing will happen if I leave … but how often has my precognition been wrong of late?

But what can the wild magic do when you’re also the conduit it needs to interact within this world?

I don’t know, but I think it would be better if we never find out.

I glanced around as the bell above the door chimed merrily. An utterly drowned-looking Monty limped in. Though he was wearing a coat with a hood, obviously neither were up to the task of protecting him against a storm as fierce as the one currently being unleashed on the reservation.

“I thought Maggie was driving you around?” Belle said, amusement evident.

“She was.” He tugged off his coat and hung it on the hook, then shrugged off his sweater. The shirt underneath had damp patches, and his jeans were so wet there were puddles forming around his feet. “But we went on a back road, and all the rain had the river crossing flooding. We got bogged.”

“Then why didn’t you magic the SUV out?” I asked.

“Because the only lift spell I know only works when I can actually see what I’m trying to lift. Which meant, of course, I had to get out of the car to apply the damn spell.”

“Such a shame that you didn’t pay more attention at school,” Ashworth said, “because lift spells are something they teach at primary level.”

“Not at mine they didn’t.” His gaze fell on the plate that now contained only scone crumbs. “I hope you two old buggers have left some scones for the rest of us.”

“It would serve you right if we hadn’t,” Ashworth replied evenly. “You should know better than to go after this sort of spirit on your own, laddie.”

I sipped my coffee to conceal my smile. Considering what he’d said earlier, it was obvious he was just needling Monty for the fun of it.

An opinion Eli obviously agreed with, because he nudged Ashworth’s shoulder with his own and said, “Enough.”

Ashworth’s smile flashed, but he didn’t say anything else. Belle rose, squeezed past my chair, and then tucked her arm through Monty’s. “Why don’t you hobble on upstairs and grab a shower to warm up, and I’ll go prepare some scones and a coffee for you.”

“And clothes? Because I’m thinking no one in this room—other than you—wants to see me naked.”

A smile twitched her lips. “What makes you think I want to see you naked?”

“Because we both know you adore this marvelously sculpted body of mine.”

Belle snorted and patted Monty’s arm. “Keep telling yourself that if it makes you feel better. Come along.”

As she and Monty moved away, I returned my gaze to Ashworth. “I know I can’t avoid going to Canberra, but I have no intention of staying anywhere near my family’s compound.”

Ashworth nodded. “Eli’s already arranged for us to stay with his sister.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Would this be the sister who enjoys your wine just a little too much every time she comes to visit you?”

“The same, and she’s a teetotaler at home.”

“She’s also a high-profile judge,” Ashworth said. “Your father won’t mess with her.”

I hoped he was right, but my father was arrogant enough to try anything—especially if the trial didn’t go the way he expected it to.

I finished my coffee, collected the empty plates, and then rose. “I better get back to work. Would you like another coffee? Or more scones?”

A smile twitched Ashworth’s lips. “I’d love to say yes to the latter, but I can feel Eli’s frown without even looking at him.”

“You’re the one who was complaining about the waist of his jeans shrinking this morning,” Eli said, voice mild. “But don’t mind me.”

“I’m telling you, I haven’t put on any weight. It’s the damn hot wash you put them through.”

“To get rid of the grease you’re always complaining about.”

I snorted and left them to it. The remaining couple of hours went slowly. Monty stayed and helped out in the kitchen, cutting the vegetables we needed for tomorrow while Belle and I cleaned the café and set up for the next day.

“What are you doing tonight?” she asked.

I shrugged. “Not sure. You?”

“Monty has some movie he wants to watch. I’ll probably work on getting some more of Gran’s books into e-book format.”

That raised my eyebrows. “You’re still in the first blush of your relationship—why the hell aren’t the two of you fucking like monkeys?”

“Who says we aren’t?” came his comment from the kitchen.

She grinned. “Even monkeys have to take the occasional time out. You want to use the borrowed SUV to get back to Aiden’s? Monty can drop me off tomorrow morning before he heads off for another round of unsuccessfully hunting the hone-onna.”

“No need—I have the Suzi here if I decide to head back to his place.”

“And I am deeply wounded by the implication my spell will amount to nothing,” Monty said.

“You’re the one who told me the odds were against it.”

“Yes, but my wife-to-be should be showing a little more support.”

“Ain’t ever going to happen.”

“You’re obviously referring to the support factor, because our wedding is inevitable.”

“Nothing is inevitable.” But the sparkle in her eyes and her wide smile said otherwise. Her gaze returned to mine. “Are you sure you don’t want me to stay here with you? I don’t mind.”

A smile tugged at my lips. “I’m fine. Take Monty home before his inattention ends in a knife wound.”

“I’ll have you know my knife skills have improved vastly,” came his comment.

She shook her head in response and dropped a kiss on my cheek. “Just a reminder, don’t go off anywhere alone, just in case this thing decides to come after you again.”

I smiled. “I won’t. Promise.”

She harrumphed, then grabbed the keys, her purse, and Monty, and headed out. I locked up after them and then, after I finished the rest of the veg Monty had been cutting, headed upstairs to make myself a coffee and do some more reading. It was just going on seven when my phone rang; the tone told me it was Aiden.

I took a deep breath in an effort to calm the sudden acceleration of my pulse and hit the answer button. “Hey, how’s your brother coping today?”

“A little better, but not out of the woods either physically or mentally yet.”

“That’s not surprising, Aiden. It’s a hell of a thing he’s going through right now.”

“I know. It’s just so frustrating that there’s nothing much any of us can really do.”

“You’re there for him. That’s the most important thing right now.” I hesitated. “Are you coming home tonight?”

He sighed. “No. My parents wish to speak to me.”

I closed my eyes briefly, fighting for control. Fighting to keep my voice even. “About your reaction to Mia’s presence, I’m gathering?”

“Yes.” His voice was grim. “I’m not sure how else they expected me to react, though.”

I hesitated. It was tempting—damn tempting—to say nothing. Or better yet, to bad-mouth the bitch. But I couldn’t. If I wanted this relationship to work out long-term, I had to accept his family would always come before me. Because of what I was. Because of what he was. That would never change, even if he did give up his dreams of being the pack’s alpha for me.

“Is it possible your mother truly wasn’t aware of your reasons for sending Mia home? Because from the little she’s said to me, I don’t think she was.”

He snorted. “She’s one of the pack’s alphas. Nothing ever escapes her notice.”

“Even so, I find it hard to believe she’d invite Mia back if she’d known that Mia was a participant—even if unwilling—in an insidious plan to funnel off some of the reservation’s wealth. Your mother is many things, but I don’t believe she’d risk your pack’s security in any way, even to get rid of me.”

He was silent for a long moment. “I’m told Mia visited the café yesterday. Why didn’t you say anything?”

“It’s not my place to say anything. I’m not pack, remember.”

The slight intake of breath told me the barb hit home. But all he said was, “I’m thinking her appearance at your café was no coincidence.”

“No. But I also don’t think she was aware that you and I are an item.”

“You can’t be that naive.”

I smiled. “Belle checked, Aiden.”

“Ah.” He took a deep breath and released it slowly. “More of my mother’s machinations, I take it?”

“I’m afraid so.”

He made a low, angry sound. “She and I really are going to have words tonight.”

“As I’ve said before, she’s only doing what any concerned mother would.”

Because concern was behind her actions—concern and fear. There was something in her past that had dramatically altered the way she dealt with witches, and I was positive it was the reason for her desperation to get me out of Aiden’s life.

I might not like what she was doing or the way she was doing it, but there was a part of me that understood. And at least he had a mother who cared. The only thing mine cared about was not bringing the Marlowe name into disrepute.

Which, of course, was a totally unfair thought. Mom did care. It just wasn’t the sort of caring I wanted. Wasn't the sort of caring Belle had.

“I’m thirty,” he growled. “It’s well past time she stopped interfering.”

And she probably would, once I was out of the picture. “Will Mia be at the meeting tonight?”

“I fucking hope not. She’s not pack, and she’s certainly not family. She has no right or reason to be there.”

At least that was one small mercy, even if it didn’t solve the bigger problem. “I presume you’ll be back at the hospital tomorrow?”

“No, I’m resuming work.”

“Really?” I said, surprised. “Tala is doing a perfectly fine job—”

“Of course she is,” he cut in. “But it could be weeks before Dillon is in any shape to leave. I can’t take that much time off work.”

It was probably more a case of “won’t,” but I didn’t say that. “Then I’ll ask you my question rather than her.”

“What question is that?”

“We need to talk to the first victim’s ex, because we believe a curse might be the reason for the hone-onna’s appearance in the res.”

“When did you come to that conclusion? Tala never mentioned it.”

So I’d been right—he might have taken leave but he certainly hadn’t stepped away. Not fully.

“I’ve been talking to Ashworth and Eli.”

“Scone day at the café, was it?” he said, amusement evident.

“Yes. But they also had to deliver a subpoena. The court case against my father is in a month.”

“You won’t be going up there alone—”

“No, I won’t,” I cut in. “Monty will remain here to help you with any magical problems that might arise, but everyone else will be travelling with me.”

“And that includes me.”

“There’s nothing you can do up there, Aiden,” I said, an edge in my voice. It was frustration, more than anger. This man wanted to be a part of my life and yet refused to make me a serious part of his. “You have the reservation and your family to worry about. That’s enough.”

“You and I—”

“Are just lovers, Aiden. You don’t want or need anything more from me. You’ve cut a very distinct line in the sand between the two of us and your life in the pack, and you have no desire to change that … do you?”

He didn’t say anything. And probably never would. I sighed silently. Perhaps it wasn’t Mia who would make or break our relationship after all. Perhaps the time in Canberra would put the whole thing in perspective and force some kind of decision.

Or not.

I had no doubt he’d be perfectly happy to continue on as we were until his werewolf mate eventually came along. Trouble was, Mia’s presence had crystalized something in me, even if I’d been rather reluctant to admit or even confront it until now.

And that was the fact that I wasn’t willing to just let things roll on.

I was sick of living in fear of things that might be.

Sick of the “what-ifs” and “when.”

I loved this man with all my heart, but if he wasn’t even willing to at least admit his own feelings, what was the point in staying?

“I’ve never been anything but honest with you, Liz,” he said softly.

But you’ve never been honest with yourself, I wanted to reply. You’re well aware this thing between us stopped being a casual relationship months ago.

It had developed into something that was good and rare. Something that was worth fighting for.

But he wasn’t willing to fight. Not for me. Not for us.

Saying all that wouldn’t get me anywhere, though, and it would possibly only anger him. And despite my new awareness, I wasn’t ready yet to walk away. That time would come—and probably faster than either of us might want—but right now, I still wanted to hang on to a few last moments of joy.

“I know, and that’s not what I’m saying,” I said, the edge still there. “But this is family business—my family business—and, well, you know how that goes.”

He snorted softly, but there was something in the sound that indicated the barb had hit home once again. “Fine. I’ll ring Marian Letts—the first victim’s wife—before I head over to the compound tonight. We’ll go see her in the morning.”

“Awesome. Thank you.”

There was another long stretch of silence, and I suspected he was waiting for me to invite him to breakfast, as I usually did. And part of me wanted to. It really did. But the other part—the newly restive part—was playing hardball. He couldn’t have everything his own way; if he actually wanted me to treat this relationship casually then I certainly would.

Eventually, he sighed and said, “Around nine suit?”

“Yes, fine.”

“Sleep well.”

As if I could, knowing he was confronting his family and in the same compound as Mia. “I will. You too.”

He snorted again. “Unlikely.”

And with that, he hung up.

I shoved my phone away, then stomped downstairs and raided the fridge for an overly large slice of cake.

It was much later in the evening when I felt the slight wisp of magic. It wasn’t wild magic. It wasn’t even dark magic.

It was witch magic.

Royalwitch magic.

My heart skipped several beats and then raced.

Not only was there a royal witch on the street outside, watching the café, but it was a presence I’d felt here once before. That time, like this time, he or she stank of anger.

I rose and quickly made my way back down the stairs. The café was dark, and there was no moon to filter through the windows and lift the shadows. It didn’t matter, because these days my night sight was wolf sharp.

My gaze went to the left side of the building. Magic shimmered, bright in the storm-lashed darkness of the lane between the two buildings. The thick weave of the spell’s threads not only told me it was a concealing spell, but also that the person behind it was very, very powerful.

It couldn’t be my father … could it?

With subpoenas issued, would he really be so stupid as to make an appearance here in the reservation?

While the sensible part of my soul doubted it, there was something about the construction of that spell that echoed my father’s magic.

I walked into the middle of the café and then said, as loudly as I could, “This is the second time you’ve stood out in that lane watching this place. Are you planning to come in this time and talk to me, or are you going to run again?”

For several seconds, there was no response. The figure behind the concealment didn’t move, and neither did I.

Then the threads of the concealment spell parted a fraction; a hand appeared and motioned toward the doorway. It was a male rather than a female hand.

It being my father remained a distinct possibility.

With my heart hammering, I walked over to the front door and unlocked it. Then I stepped right back into the middle of the café. The spells around this place would protect me from anything this witch could throw at me, and if it was my father, he’d be aware of that. If he was coming in here, then, for the moment, he meant me no harm.

But if it was my father, there was no guarantee it would remain that way.

The bell chimed as the door opened and the invisible figure stepped inside. He closed the door behind him.

At the very least, he had manners.

I curled my fingers, hiding the energy that sparked across my fingertips. “And now that you’re inside, are you going to reveal yourself? Or do you intend to keep your identity a big fat mystery?”

Again, there was no verbal response, but the concealment spell nevertheless disintegrated.

I’d been wrong in thinking it was my father but, in truth, it may well have been.

The man who stood in front of me was Julius Anthony Marlowe.

My fucking brother.