never works. Oh, in my presence, of course,” I added. “Once I leave the room, however, then it’s business as usual. Wardlings and potions. Enchantments. I’d like to leave now.”
“I can prove it.”
I whirled round. “How? By not performing magic in front of me—again? Yes, that should convince me. Go ahead.” I gestured. “Fail to conjure something.”
“There is only one power that can overcome yours, Charmian,” he said softly. “Happily, it is mine.”
I didn’t like the look in his eyes. “Yet somehow you’ve never thought to use it on me.”
“I did try, but your parents made sure no magic could ever touch you.” He took out my pendant and dangled it. “This is a nightstone, one of the last in existence. It was used by the old Druuds to imprison the mages in the Brecheliant. Your parents somehow mechanized it to shield your spirit in a similar manner. From what I have gathered by observation, it releases your power while holding you oblivious to both it and the forces within the netherside.”
“So that’s the reason magic doesn’t work near me?” I nodded. “I wonder what my Da’s pocket watch does.”
“Allow me to demonstrate.” He curled his fingers over my pendant, opened them, and it was gone. “Now you are unshielded.”
“Let me guess.” I folded my arms. “You can to turn me into a great fat frog. Or, if my mind power is now working, you can’t.”
His eyes glittered as he came to me and dropped a small blue stone down the front of my bodice. As I tried to slap him, he said, “Take off the cloak.”
I looked down at my hand, which on its own had stopped and joined my other fingers to untie the strings under my chin. “This is ridicu—” I stopped when I realized I wanted to take off the cloak, more than anything in the world. “What is this? What are you doing?”
“I’ve told you, spell-breaker.” He smiled. “You’re mine.”
I pushed the cloak from my shoulders and straightened the dark blue gown I’d borrowed from Rina’s. Oddly, this gave me a distinct glow of pleasure. “Why does that feel better?”
“You want to please me,” he said. “In another moment you’ll do anything I ask.”
“Yes.” Something began pulsing deep inside me, as if I’d grown a second heart. “Of course I will. Should I take off the rest of my clothes?”
“My father became host to the immortals’ greatest enchanter,” Dredmore said as he went round me and encircled me from behind with his arms. “An Aramanthan who could bend anyone, even the most powerful spell- breaker, to his will. That was the gift Jack passed along when he sired me.”
“This is why Harry wanted me to leave you.” Poor Harry, he was a fool. “He knew you’d try this.” Not that I was especially worried, not with this delicious contentment glowing inside me. “How long does it last?”
“If I choose,” he whispered against my ear, “for the remainder of your days.”
Delight sparkled inside me as I imagined it. “Yes, please, Lucien. I’d like that. I like you.”
“So you do, as long as I will it.” The air pressed in against me, and then I was turning to put my arms round his neck. “But this is not real love, Charmian. This is enchantment. Enslavement.”
“Nonsense. You know how much I fancy you. There will never be anyone else for me.” I beamed at him. “Lucien, all I’ve ever want to do is make you happy.”
“You’ve never wanted anything of the kind.” He kissed my brow before he plunged his hand down the front of my dress, removing the stone he’d dropped there. “And I’m sorry I’ve done this, but I had to show you.”
A heartbeat later my mind and body became my own again, and I drooped, as limp as an underdone crispie.
“Once I release you from the enchantment, there is a period of weakness. It will pass in a few moments.” He carried me over to the chair and sat down with me. “The longer I bespell you, the greater the weakness. With each hour that passes, more of you surrenders to my control, until I command the very beat of your heart. Then I can never release you, or you will die.”
“I can’t believe it.” I didn’t try to fight him off or argue; I was too stunned. “I really wanted . . . I would have happily . . .” I stopped and stared at him. “And you can do this to anyone, whenever you wish, just by thinking it and popping a stone down their dress?”
“Anyone like us.” His mouth curled at one corner. “To my everlasting regret, the power I inherited from Jack doesn’t work on ordinary mortals. Only the spiritborn.”
“Bloody hell.” I rested my cheek against his shoulder. “How do you live with something like this?”
“I avoid the temptation to use it.” He stroked my cheek. “When I first encountered you at that merchant’s house I knew you were like me; I sensed it at once—but my power had no effect on you. I tried everything, even planting spell stones in your garments, but nothing worked. I believed it to be a miracle.”
“You’ve actually tried to do this before to me?” I sat up and remembered all the odd times I’d found blue pebbles in my pockets. “How could you?”
“I wanted you.”
“You want to be beaten senseless.” I pushed away his hand. “Is there anyone more powerful than you? Do they hire out?”
“We all have our weaknesses.” His expression became shuttered. “You needn’t worry. I’d never use my power on you unless you were in danger.”
“That’s what you say now. Next week you might decide to have me shine your boots with my tongue.” I grimaced. “Not that I mean to suggest you do.” Something occurred to me, and I sat straight up. “That night in the maze, you didn’t use your mind magic on me, did you?” I hadn’t seen any blue stone then, but it might have fallen out of my pocket while I’d ridden back to the city on George.
He ran his thumb along my jawline. “You were wearing the pendant, remember? It’s always protected you.”
I glanced about. “Where
“You’ll have it back, in time.” He turned my face toward his. “Charmian. You can’t keep wearing it. Your parents meant well, but nightstone is very dangerous and unpredictable. The manner in which they’ve mechanized it blinds you to the netherside. If the mechanism were to fail at the wrong moment—”
I wasn’t convinced I wanted to see the real world anymore, much less the netherside of specters and mages and only sweet Mary knew what else. “Perhaps it’s better that I not know such things.”
“You can’t hide forever from what you are, love.” He sounded weary now. “No more than I could.”
I tucked my head against his neck, my eyes drooping. “Lucien.” I yawned. “Why am I falling asleep on your lap?”
“You’ve had a long day.” He sounded peevish now, as if talking were too much effort.
The air seemed to be turning pink, and very hot, and with all my strength I pushed myself off him. My limbs turned to noodles and I landed heavily on the floor.
“Charm.” He tried to reach out to me, but his hand fell against the cushions. “Fire.”
I gritted my teeth and began crawling toward it, the pink smoke coming from the logs making my eyes burn, but halfway to the hearth I couldn’t feel my legs anymore. Nor could I turn over to see who had come into the room and was walking toward us.
A hard boot kicked me over onto my back, and I looked up to see Montrose Walsh standing over me, a noz over his mouth.
“Poor Cousin Kit,” he said through the mask. “You and your lover might be impervious to magic, but you’re still obliged to breathe, now, aren’t you?”
Chapter Seven
The next hour came to me in blurry flashes as I drifted in and out of consciousness. I glimpsed Dredmore’s body being dragged past me and dropped onto the dirty boards of a cart, and snow falling into my eyes. The cold roused me even as it chilled my limbs; the flashes grew closer together until they merged into a veil of snowy lace
