Alchemist's Kiss (5 page)

“You for leaving his victim alive, and me for casting him out of London.” Icarus agreed.

“Why does he hate you for that, Archie?” I asked.

“When she was well the girl returned to her family. A very influential Coven family, as it turns out. Her father had Baiandelio's club closed and he backed Icarus when he bid for the London territory.”

“So if you'd have killed her, her family might not have backed Icarus, and he may have been able to retain his territory.” I surmised.

“I'd have killed him, rather than let him continue to sell black magic in London.” Icarus shrugged when I shot him a disbelieving look. “What?”

“Cold blooded murder is a bit much, even for you.”

“The man is a beast and a savager of women. I've no sympathy for a wizard like him. He and the Lizard are two of a kind in that respect. Both work blood magic, and can do harm if they get the chance.”

I wrapped my arms around myself. Blood magic was the biggest taboo of the magical community. Though I was newer to it than Icarus, who'd been born to it, and Archie who'd been introduced as a child, I knew the cost a wizard paid for blood magic. Usually their souls were warped, their minds lost to the darkness blood magic wrought. Simple blood magic spells could be done using donated blood, but the more complicated spells required sacrifice. Some dark magic was tolerated and overlooked by the Grand High Coven, but blood magic was an offense punishable by death.

Icarus raised his head, as if only noticing that the room had grown darker. He waved his hand and the sconces on the wall lit, casting a warm glow about the room.

“We have electricity, Icarus.” I reminded him.

He glowered. “Gah. Science! This insane argument that man can overcome his need for magic by using metal and wire is ridiculous.”

I looked at Archie and we shook our heads. Magic was accepted and used all over the world now, but non-magic users grew weary of relying on practitioners provide them with power, healing and protection. A movement was underway to forge ahead in scientific fields, hoping to reduce the non-users reliance on magic. Men like Icarus, who'd never had to pay for magic, didn't understand the non-user's resistance. It was an argument we bandied about between us at many a dinner meal. We both knew Icarus would never understand the masses and their need for independence from the magical community.

“If the aether is correct, Gecko and Baiandelio will make a move against us soon.” Icarus crossed his arms over his chest, a small smile twisting his lips. “We'd best prepare.”

“The wards are set.” Archimedes was exceptionally adept at protection spells. He lifted his hand and the normally invisible runes began to glow. They were difficult and complex to weave, but Archie had an affinity for them that I could not match. Icarus was stronger than us both in all areas of magic, but even he deferred to Archie for wards and shielding spells.

“I've no concern over your wards.” Icarus cut his eyes to me. “The Hand will lead them to us. No amount of magical shielding can block its power.”

I let my hand settle over the chain around my neck. “I can run. I'll take The Hand and return to America.”

“No.” Icarus was quick, shaking his head. He clenched his hands in his lap, and I had the impression he wanted to physically hold me, as if I might attempt to run at that very moment. “We stay together. I can't protect you if you leave me.”

“The Hand will protect me.”

“The Hand is fickle,” he argued, “It will align itself with the strongest so that it may use its magic without stricture.”

“It hasn't left me for you.”

He narrowed his eyes at me. Color suffused his face and mottled the skin of his cheeks. “I will not allow you to leave me, Cora.”

“I don't want to leave you, you stubborn, silly man. I'm trying to save your life!”

“I can take care of myself.”

“As can I!”

The room was silent as my words echoed off the walls. I sighed. This was how it always was between us. We could not agree, even if we both wanted the same outcome.

“Perhaps we'd best agree to stick together.” Archie looked between us with a barely concealed smile. I sometimes wondered if the man was mentally ill. Whenever Icarus and I would argue he would watch and smile. Once I'd asked him what amused him so, and he'd only murmured, “The fires of passion, dear Cora.”

Icarus calmed, his color returning to normal as he relaxed back into his chair. To say I wasn't a bit pleased by his ardent demands that I remain at his side would be a lie, despite how much I may argue for the opposite.

“We stay together.” he agreed firmly, looking at me.

I nodded. “Together.”

“Now that we've settled that, how do we prepare ourselves for the dark wizards who herald our demise?”

Icarus glared at Archie. “We bolster our defenses. Call up our debts, and work a bit of offensive magic.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Isn't that for emergencies only?”

“I daresay fighting for our lives, and the lives of every living thing in London, is an emergency.” Icarus said dryly.

“One thing we know for sure, the Gecko and Baiandelio won't attack us when we expect them to. They'll wait until we've relaxed our guard.”

“Then we don't relax our guard.” Icarus grinned. It wasn't humorous, but reminded me of the lion I'd seen at the zoo. Hungry and feral. “We will need to speak to the Grand High Coven and the wizards in neighboring cities. We'll draw to us all those who owe us a debt, and we'll set about ridding London of these scoundrels forever.”

“And your father?” The words tasted foul in my mouth. From what I knew of Victor Kane I could not imagine how he'd fathered a man as noble and brave as Icarus.

“My father will be left to me. He's in London to kill me and I plan to let him try.”

“Icarus, he's strong, and from what we've seen he's only growing stronger!” I bit my lip and shuddered at the thought of him engaging his father.

“My father created me.” Icarus said simply, and he rubbed the palm of his hand where the scar of that creation remained. “Now he will have to pay for that.”

Hyde Park, London

“Why, exactly, are we here?”

Icarus squinted through the driving rain at Cora. “The Grand High Master is about. This was his requested meeting place.”

The park was empty as the cold spring rain fell all over the city. Here and there a dapper butler walked a dog under a wide umbrella, a sour look on his face. Icarus pulled up the collar of his herringbone duster as the rain dripped down his neck and ran willy-nilly down his spine. Had he mentioned that he hated the rain? And the cold? And Hyde Park?

Cora looked up at him through her lashes as the rain cascaded off her umbrella to pool at his feet. “You could share the umbrella, Icarus.”

“I'll be fine. I don't want to take the chance that you take cold.”

He swore he saw a blush on her cheeks as she turned her face away. She pulled her warmer fur-lined cape closer about her shoulders.

He stiffened as the sound of boots met his ears. He reached for Cora's elbow, drawing her closer to his side. She came willingly enough, molding her softer body against his longer frame, as her full skirts swirled around his legs.

“Lovely day, Adept Kane.”

Icarus bowed low as the figure of the Grand High Master, the most powerful wizard in the world, came into view. He jostled Cora's elbow as a distinct snort of disbelief from her wafted in his direction. She blinked up at him innocently, and for a moment he was lost in the Gwydir green of her eyes. The curve of her cheek and the welcoming landscape of her mouth called to his like no other aphrodisiac ever had. It was by sheer will alone that he raised his head to greet the Grand High Master.

“Indeed, Grand Master Orrin.”

Lucan Orrin was a nondescript man of medium height and build. Nothing about him would alert you to his position except for the heavy press of the magic that clung to him like a shroud. He pushed back the hood to his cloak and shook the rain from his hair like a dog. He turned his wide, innocent smile on them. “I do enjoy a good rain shower.” He studied them for a moment before his smile drifted into a frown. “But you're uncomfortable.” Before Icarus could speak the wizard raised his hand and muttered under his breath. In a few moments the rain stopped completely.

Cora looked at Icarus with wide eyes. He shook his head, though he was no less amazed at the power the man wielded.

“There!” The man grinned at them with a wicked sparkle in his eye. “That's better!” He bowed low to Cora. “Lovely to meet you at last Ms. Jenkins.”

“And you, Grand Master.” she murmured demurely, exactly as Icarus had instructed.

The man turned his sharp eyes to Icarus. “Now tell me what's on your mind, Adept Kane.”

“My father, Grand Master.”

The friendly brown eyes narrowed and hardened. He spit onto the ground.

“Tell me how you really feel.” Cora said, and the Grand Master's lips twitched a bit before he turned his gaze back to Icarus.

“Explain.”

Icarus made quick work of the story of his father's return. When he mentioned Baiandelio and Gecko the Grand Master's face became suffused with an angry red tint. When Icarus was done the Grand High Master crossed his arms and tapped his foot like an angry schoolmarm.

“How dare they return to this city. London is yours by right of bid!”

Icarus bowed in acknowledgment of the man's backing, but then shook his head. “My father doesn't care about right. He'll raze the city and destroy the peace we've worked hard to attain.”

Orrin tapped his chin. “Indeed. The man is a threat to us all. Especially with the tensions between magic and non-magic wielders at the moment.”

“I thought that was all political propaganda.” Cora spoke up. Icarus shot her a look, but she ignored him and focused her bright smile on the Grand Master. He preened under the attention as Icarus ground his teeth together in frustration. He'd had enough of the magic and science argument. There was no way humans would be able to survive without magic.

The Grand High Master was in the process of telling Cora exactly the opposite.

“It's entirely possible that we will be obsolete in the span of twenty years at this rate.” He cast his puppy-dog eyes in Icarus' direction. “Though I see that Grand Adept Kane would beg to differ.”

“Not at all, Grand Master.” Icarus kept his face impassive. “I defer to your judgment in all things.”

Orrin's smile was cunning. “Is that so, Adept?” He raised his eyebrow in Cora's direction. “I can't bring myself to believe that.”

She barely contained her own smile, making Icarus feel like the butt of their joke.

Orrin lost his grin and straightened and the most powerful mage in the world was back. “Nevertheless, Adept Kane, the truth cannot be denied. Non-magic users outnumber us by millions. Though they rely on us at the moment, they will strive to break those bonds and forge ahead without magic. We cannot allow your father, or any dark wizard, to break those bonds before we are ready.”

“So your worry lies not in the lives that will be lost, but in the political upset my father's return might cause.”

“Do not push me, Adept.”

Icarus felt the heavy press of Orrin's displeasure on his shoulders. The weight of the Grand Master's magic bore him to his knees in the mud.

“Though you are strong, you are rash. Emotional. We are trying to salvage what we can of our way of life. A piddly strife with your father would normally not draw my attention, but that it happens at an inopportune time.”

Cora's eyes were wide as she hurried to Icarus' side and put her arms around him. “Stop it!”

Orrin's eye grew wide as she commanded him.

“Stop it, I say!” She shook her parasol at the Grand High Master. “That's quite enough posturing from you, Lucan Orrin!”

Icarus knew the color drained from his face. He struggled against Orrin's magic, hoping to shield Cora from the punishment he was sure Orrin would send her way.

He was flabbergasted when the Grand Master broke into a sunny smile and released him instead.

“I do admire your ability to draw interesting people, Adept Kane!” Orrin bowed low to Cora as she pulled Icarus from the mud. “Miss Cora, I am forever at your service.”

She made a face at the man. “Really!” She shook her head. “There's to be bloodshed in London, and the two of you are strutting about like roosters!” She folded her arms over her chest. “Will the Grand Coven assist us in dealing with Victor Kane?”

“We will.” Orrin matched her pose, folding his arms. “Despite Adept Kane's belief, we are on the brink of a war between magic and non-magic users. We must end this problem of dark mages in London as quickly as possible.”

“I need wizards in the streets.” Icarus gripped Cora's elbow, quieting her as she started to speak again. “I need them patrolling the neighborhoods, keeping the people safe while I search for my father.”

“Done.”

“Thank you.” Icarus bowed to the man and sighed in irritation as a drop of rain hit his cheek. Orrin pulled up his hood and grabbed Cora's hand, kissing her knuckles. He turned away and waved to his escorts to follow.

He turned back a few steps later. “And Adept Kane?”

“Yes, Grand Master?”

Orrin's voice was grave, his face shrouded by his hood. “You will come when I call for your service in this war.”

“I will.”

“I hope it doesn't come to that.” Cora said, and Orrin's chuckle was less than humorous.

“As do I, Cora dear. As do I.”

The rain came down in a torrent and the Grand High Master disappeared into the fog.

Cora popped open her umbrella, holding it over them both. “That went better than I'd hoped.”

“You walk a fine line between sanity and mental illness, Cora Jenkins.”

She shot him a sour look. “He's a powerful mage, but he doesn't scare me.”

“Not many things do.” Icarus put his arm around her shoulders. She'd scared him with her reckless disregard for her own life. She leaned into him, for the moment quiet.

“You won't fight if it comes to war, will you?”

“I've promised I would.”

She looked up at him. “I know how much you hate it. Killing and violence and bloodshed.”

“Unfortunately it's all I know.”

Her eyes were sad. He didn't allow her to soften him further. Instead he tugged on one of her loose curls and squeezed her shoulder.

“I'm soaked and covered in mud. Let's go home.”

She smiled, but the sunshine was clouded by worry. He led her back toward the hotel, his mind on many things. Cora. His father. A war. He sighed as he looked up at the blank gray canvas of the London sky. No matter where he went, how far he ran, he could never manage to leave his past behind him. Even now it was barreling down on him like a train car in the Underground.

“We won't ever leave you alone, Icarus.”

He looked down at Cora as they stepped up to the door of the hotel. Rain dripped from her nose and splattered over her pale pink morning dress.

“Every man is alone in the end, Cora. To think otherwise is folly.”

Her lips tightened. “Folly is to believe that you have to be alone when you don't.” She closed her umbrella and pulled open the door, turning her back on him before he could answer. She left him standing in the rain, a troubled frown playing over his lips.

“I take it you had an eventful meeting with the Grand High Master.” Archimedes looked up from his paper with a frown at Icarus' muddy pants.

“He's agreed to post men around the city, leaving us free to pursue my father.” Icarus winced as Cora slammed the door to her room. He held his hands to the fire, aware that he was dripping mud onto Cora's favorite Parisian throw rug.

“And Cora?” Archimedes closed the paper and crossed his legs. “What have you done to her now?”

Icarus shrugged. “What haven't I done? I can't speak to the woman, Archimedes! Every word I say is misconstrued or serves to make her angry.”

“You aren't talking
to
her, Ic. You're talking
at
her. An unfortunate trait you can't seem to shake.”

Icarus glared at his friend. “She means well. Her heart is too soft for the work we do.”

“It's not. She's stronger than us both.” Archimedes argued. He twitched his foot as he stared at Icarus. “You're frightened for her.”

“I am.”

Icarus had no trouble admitting his fears. He knew what his father was capable of. Had seen first-hand the kind of horrors dark mages could bring on good people. People who were bright and sweet and full of life like Cora. The thought of their darkness touching her made the hairs on his neck stand on end.

“You're afraid you'll lose her.”

Icarus narrowed his eyes. “You go too far, friend.” he warned.

“You're a coward, Icarus Kane.” Archimedes stood as Icarus strode toward him.

“You push me, Archimedes.” Icarus clenched his fist as his anger flared.

“You need to wake up!' Archimedes grabbed Icarus' shoulder, well aware that no matter how angry he got, Icarus would never strike out at him. “This is the time to embrace your feelings, Icarus, not hide them! If tomorrow does not dawn, what will Cora know of you? Will she know how you feel?”

Icarus broke away and headed for his laboratory. He could feel Archimedes staring at his back. He knew his friend was right. He cared for Cora far more than he'd ever allowed her to know, and he feared she harbored the same feelings for him. He could not imagine ever losing her, and the thought of it made him almost mad. Archimedes, a usual, knew him better than he knew himself.

He stopped at the door to his laboratory. “When this is over I will tell her.” he vowed without turning back.

“Let us hope it's not too late.”

Icarus shut the door behind him and said the words of warding that would lock it against all intruders. He waved his hands for the lights and his office emerged from the shadows. He strode to the window and looked out at the skyline of London. It was growing, his city. Even now the non-magic users were building factories and using science to better their world.

Science.
He hated the word. He knew magic and science were really cousins, but magic came from the soul and science came from the mind. It was cold and without understanding of the world around it, unlike magic. Magic users were connected to the very fabric of the universe.

Soon the non-magic users would be able to power their homes and transport their goods without magic. Steam was a growing trend, and he knew that humans, in their incessant questioning, would discover ever more efficient ways of doing without magic.

He looked out over the buildings that grew taller every year, and watched the teeming masses move like ants through the narrow city streets. In time the sky would be darkened by smoke and the water undrinkable.

He swore, turning from the window. Everywhere he looked he saw uncertainty in his life. His city might only be his for a few more years. His life, too, could be cut short if his father won this contest of wills. Cora, his darling Cora, might be taken from him tomorrow. He slumped into his chair and removed his glove. He stared hard at the magical rune scarred into his palm. He rubbed it and frowned. Though he hated the events that had brought him his magic, and had often times vowed to be rid of it, he would need to rely on it now more than ever. He poured himself a glass of good bourbon and tossed it back with a grimace. A man with too many worries was a horse with too heavy a burden. Eventually what he carried would bear him to the ground and to his death.