Marcus frowned, not following Calchas’s latest gleeful pronouncement. “What do you mean?”
Calchas delayed answering. Instead, his fingers touched my bare neck and traced along my shoulder. I stifled a shudder of repulsion. “The last time the lovely Cassandra so wickedly betrayed you with the Wilder, you had yet to be handfasted, which you have been now for a while. At this point you would have been married. The wedding was scheduled for yesterday, was it not?”
I struggled to concentrate against the bile rising within me as Calchas allowed his fingers to traverse my shoulder and descend along my arm.
“Have you not felt the burning in the blood and passions rising?” Calchas asked Marcus archly. “But then, you have all been so very busy. Except, the handfast is not designed to handle a third wheel. You recall how you felt when your match encountered Master Agrestis in the hospital.”
Enlightenment dawned and Marcus’s eyes caught and held mine across the table. Calchas knew Marcus was affected when Devyn and I were together. It was Marcus’s reaction to this effect that had alerted our security detail to Devyn’s presence in the hospital after the handfast. What Calchas didn’t seem to be aware of was our recent discovery that while we both wore our charms, this effect was almost entirely countered.
Our host’s eyes flicked from me to Marcus, his delight in our feigned horror evident. He was a cat playing with trapped mice.
“You’re disgusting.” I pulled my arm away from Calchas’s wandering fingers.
“Sorry, my dear, I don’t mean to detain you any further.” I waited for him to pull back the chair. His hands returned to my skin, touching my neck as he released the catch of the necklace I wore. In reflex I snatched at it; without it I had no defence against the effects of the handfast. In fact, they would have to drag me to Devyn’s room. I held the rose gold pendant tight, my thumb worrying against the etched Celtic design on the back, as if I could imprint the triquetra charm onto my very flesh.
“Now, now, Cassandra, I think this little device has served its purpose, don’t you? Such a clever little contraption. Our scientists haven’t quite figured out how it manages to block the coding embedded in the cuff, but it has served its purpose.”
It appeared that they figured out, as we had, that while wearing the charm the desire to comply with the city’s dictates was countered. But it sounded as if they hadn’t discovered its primary purpose: to hide its wearer from the cameras and microphones that covered the city. I hadn’t failed to notice that in Marcus and Devyn’s evidentiary reels, there was little coverage from those times the charms were activated. The triquetra charms succeeded in obscuring us from general surveillance but failed to deflect the focus when the cameras were directed at a specific subject, like in Oban’s apartment; the rest must have come from physical tails who managed to capture us in public. This explained the sensation I had a few times of being followed. I refocused on Calchas’s monologue.
“…After all, it was only fair that you should be fully cognisant of the events that brought you onto the sand. However, you failed to include it as a condition of your boon when you had your little fun this afternoon,” Calchas crowed. His revenge for my revelation that Devyn was a Briton was to allow me to spend the night with Devyn knowing that as soon as he removed the pendant, my deepest wish to be with Devyn would become the last thing I wanted.
“Please,” I whispered. I had to beg. Thankfully Calchas didn’t know everything: as long as I allowed Devyn to get close enough, his presence alone would counter the effects of the handfast. Though, sitting with Marcus, Calchas would be able to tell that his plan to ruin our night had failed. Devyn would have to get close enough for me to tell him about Calchas’s little game but then if I was to die tomorrow night, what difference did it make anyway?
Calchas peeled my fingers slowly off the pendant as I stared across at Marcus. What should I do? Marcus’s eyes flicked to his wristband; he would be protected from eavesdropping, as it were, while he wore it – to a degree anyway – so despite Calchas’s repugnant games, we would have privacy.
The pendant removed, Calchas dropped it carelessly onto his dirty dessert plate and pulled my chair back, helping me to stand.
“Now,” he said, his lips parting in a pout, “we must bid you goodnight. Time for you to make your appointment, Donna Shelton.”
I blinked in confusion; the transition back to compliant citizen always left me dazed for a moment. Why was I arm in arm with the Praetor? I looked around the room. Servants were entering busily and clearing the table by which I stood, one leaning in front of the man who was sitting on the other side of the table to collect the plates in front of him.
“Marcus,” I breathed in relief as the servant moved away.
Praetor Calchas smiled at me. “Marcus and I are going to have a little chat, Donna Shelton. His father is joining us for drinks. You are meeting a friend down the hall.”
I looked to Marcus in confusion, and he nodded tightly. Lord Calchas instructed me to follow the guard who had just escorted Matthias Dolon into the room and I took my leave.
As we walked down the dark stone hallway, recent memories started to tumble into my mind. Preparing for my wedding, the night of the pre-wedding revels, Devyn appearing, Marcus, the warehouse, the arena, the cell in the amphitheatre. It all came flooding back in a bombardment of images. Death. I had been sentenced to death for my part in… Oh! I needed to go back to Marcus. How was this happening? I needed
