Fearless Magic (12 page)

He turned on his heel and walked out of the room while I struggled to catch up with him before I lost him in the enormity of the house.

Gabriel walked straight into a large all-white kitchen that was perfectly cleaned and mouth-droppingly immaculate. I found a seat at the kitchen island while Gabriel tinkered with the coffee pot.

“Well, this blows the stereotype that boys can't clean up after themselves, out of the water,” I mumbled to myself, impressed that three boys living together could keep a kitchen this perfect.

Gabriel didn't respond, so I turned my attention to some picture frames on the island next to me. My mouth dropped open again after realizing who was in every single picture.

“Gabriel!” I shrieked, forcing him to turn around and pay attention to me, “This is my English teacher! This is Mr. Lambert!” I held up a picture, as if proving my point, both horrified and shocked that we would be inside a house possibly owned by the single man that hated my habit for tardiness most in the world.

“Ah, Charles Lambert? Yes, he's an old friend of Amory's. Well, and an old friend of mine, too, actually,” Gabriel turned back around to focus his attention on the dripping coffee pot.

“Wait, so does that mean this is his house? That's he's part of the rebellion?” I asked, not comprehending that it was even a possibility. I didn't think the worst of Mr. Lambert, but the thought that we would be fighting on the same side of this war was almost too bizarre to believe.

“Oh, yes, for a long time now,” Gabriel replied, pouring me a cup of coffee and then one for himself.

“Eden is definitely going to have to change, though,” Xander announced playfully, walking into the kitchen and putting both of his hands on my shoulders. “Because this might cut it when you're climbing mountains, but sorry, E, they won't even let you in a place like that, dressed like this.” Xander squeezed my shoulders in his giant hands, making me cringe and laugh at the same time.

“Let me in? Where are we going?” I asked, trying to catch up with whatever plans the boys had made in the living room.

“To a party, of course,” Xavier replied, a mischievous smile on his face.

“And what party would that be?” I questioned, reservations already sending alarms off in my blood.

“A birthday party,” Titus answered seriously, walking over to the coffee pot and accepting a cup from Gabriel.

“Who's birthday party?” I pressed, growing irritated that they were making me ask so many questions to get to the bottom of this.

“Sebastian Cartier.” Jericho was the last to enter the kitchen. He took a seat next to me, reaching out for the cup of coffee Gabriel was extending to him. “It's his birthday and the Immortal community is throwing an extra large celebration in honor of him tonight. Rumor has it that somebody took his magic. Apparently, he's a little depressed about that,” Jericho finished snidely, the same mischievous smile on his face as well.

“Then somebody better finish the job,” I murmured with renewed interest.

The large kitchen buzzed with anxious energy. It felt good to reunite with this team. We were finally an assembled group with a concrete mission ahead of us. Sebastian Cartier was more than just an end to tie up; he was a wealth of information and if we could pull off kidnapping him, it would be a serious message sent to Lucan. The tables were finally turned on our relationship; I would be the one stalking him this time.

Chapter Eleven

“I still don't understand why we couldn't have at least brought
some
explosives,” Xander grumbled underneath his breath. “I mean, I'm not asking for a whole lot here, just one or two or maybe five.... small.... small-ish bombs.”

“Xander, for the last time, we don't want to hurt any more Immortals than we have to. And we only want to
kill
two of them, Ok
maybe
three of them,” I scolded sternly, while we walked down the long concrete tunnel leading to a secret Immortal club deep beneath the streets of Paris. “Plus, blowing up an underground club might have some serious effects up in the human world,” I reminded him casually, “and by might, I mean it would, we're talking major sink hole in the middle of downtown Paris, that is so not Ok.”

My brand new, extra tall stilletos clicked with every step I took, echoing off the rounded concrete walls. Low, reverberating club music grew steadily louder in the distance the closer we walked to the Immortal prince's birthday party.

“I didn't say we had to use them, I was just suggesting they might be useful, you know just in case,” Xander protested and I gave him a hard look not wanting to go over my reasoning again, for the hundredth time. “All right, all right, you're the boss-lady,” he said with hands in the air surrendering.

“Avalon would have brought explosives,” Xavier mumbled and when I turned my glare on him, he shrunk away to the back of our group, but not before the corners of his mouth turned up into a smile.

The excited buzzing of magic grew stronger, the farther into the tunnel we walked. I looked around at the boys, who had all cleaned up very nicely. All except Gabriel who opted to stay home instead of trading in his priestly wardrobe for something that would be more appropriate for a night club. Titus was less lumberjack looking after he shaved the red stubble that grew long during their “underground” phase. He looked muscular in a tighter fitting white dress shirt and loosened tie. Xander likewise, wore a collared white dress shirt, but underneath a gray suit coat with matching charcoal trousers. Xander changed up the color a bit with a black dress shirt and went a little classier with a well tailored, tan suit. He pulled his longer hair back into a loose ponytail.

They were all good looking guys, made even more attractive by their boyish excitement for the mission ahead of us; but the best looking among them all was obviously, or at least in my opinion, Jericho. He smartly slicked back his hair out of his eyes, since he had yet to trim it and his angular jaw jutted out strongly against the severe hair style. He borrowed one of Xander's perfectly fitting suits, a charcoal pinstriped number with matching vest, a black collared shirt and a silver tie tucked stylishly into his vest.

I looked up at him for a moment, in awe of his calmed nerves and flawless resolve. I slipped my hand into his, desperate to attach my anxious energy to his magic, hoping he could sooth my frayed energy and strengthen my shrinking courage.

“What if they notice me?” I asked aloud, biting my bottom lip and reminding myself of Amory's all-powerful magic that blended seamlessly with my blood.

“That's bound to happen,” Jericho said hoarsely, looking down at me with a mischievous smile, and letting his eyes sweep over me.

I cleared my throat nervously, smoothing out the wrinkles in my short, fiery red evening dress that I picked up earlier. Titus took me out this afternoon to the Champs Elysees, the main street and shopping district in Paris, where I ran into a store, shouted in very broken French what I needed, and threw down one of my new credit cards without even trying the new dress on or looking at the total.

I gasped in horror when I clambered back into the taxi, precious dress in my possession and thousands of dollars poorer. Titus promised that I would not even notice the spent money and talked me down from my buyer's remorse ledge. I was grateful for him in that moment.

I was even more grateful for the store clerk that must have taken pity on my wild eyes and tragic appearance and outfitted me with one smoking hot cocktail dress. The top was tight, hugging my curves with silky red satin in the front and elegant black lace in the back. The neckline was high and felt modest, but the way the bodice hugged me suggested anything but propriety. The skirt ballooned out in silky, tiered, uneven ruffles that ended somewhere short of mid-thigh. A black satin sash tied in a bow, almost too big of a bow, around my waist pulled the look together.

I pulled my long, wavy black hair over my shoulder and pinned it carefully so that my unfading, shimmering, blue tattoo would stay hidden. I kept the necklace on the outside of my dress, the dead black stone dangling against the delicate satin and knocking the emerald engagement ring while I walked. The necklace was a reminder of my place in royal society, or lack thereof. After the look was pulled together, after the black heels were fastened and the matching crimson lipstick applied, I couldn't help but feel dangerous. I was on a mission tonight, and poor Sebastian didn't know what was about to hit him.

“All right, does everyone remember the plan? We enter separately and meet back at the bar in fifteen minutes,” I reminded the boys. My heart pumped in rhythm to the fast bass line as music grew louder; we were almost there.

The guys nodded in reply and I laughed to myself. This was not their first mission, I was the newbie. There was absolutely no reason to remind them of anything. Titus quickened his pace, holding a wrapped birthday present awkwardly under his arm and took the lead.

The rest of us held back until Xander and Xavier felt that there was adequate space between Titus and them and then separated themselves from us as well. They each held a gift; I found it amusing to think about a time when someone would open all of these presents and find someone's random throw pillows and a cricket mallet that was almost used to smash my head in earlier in the day.

Jericho looked down at me, our hands already interlocked and smiled. “We will have to pull off looking like a couple,” he said shyly.

“You have no objections from me,” I replied coyly. The dress was making me feel a little vixen-like tonight. I let go of his hand, and slipped my arm through his, pulling at him gently so that when we approached the bouncers I was pretending to whisper something into his ear, although whispering at that point would have been pointless against the resonating house music echoing off the enclosed hallway. He blushed appropriately and I finished the act by bravely nibbling on his ear lobe.

“Gentlemen,” Jericho purred suavely, reaching into his suit jacket and removing an elegant invitation with the royal seal stamped on the front. The invitation had been stolen earlier in the week by Titus, Xander and Xavier when they thought they were the only ones left of the rebellion. At that point, explosives were definitely involved.

The bouncers inspected the invitation and then the two of us. Thuggish, burly and robust Titans, they wore menacing looks that sent a shiver down my back. I smiled constantly at them, my face feeling like it was turning to plaster, and leaning in to Jericho so that I was almost hiding behind him.

The two bouncers talked back and forth in hushed, fast tones and then one of them walked back inside of the club. We stood their awkwardly staring at the remaining bouncer while a line of other party-goers formed behind us.

The second bouncer returned after a few minutes and motioned for us to enter. We handed him our make-shift gifts and then walked past them into the crowded club. The electricity in my blood ignited in a lightning storm of warning as soon as we were past the guards. They recognized me, or us, or both of us; that much was clear.

Inside the club were hundreds of Immortals pressed together on a dance floor that took up the entire room, except for a bar and small seating area towards the back of the club. We walked in on a balcony overlooking the party, and as we mosied down the stairs, we watched the Titans move into place. They moved discreetly to block all of the exits, surrounding the room with tight security and sending Jericho and I a clear message that we were caught.

I swallowed the lump rising in my throat and clung to Jericho, trying to find the courage not to run from the room that very second. We expected this, I reminded myself, so far everything was going according to plan. Everything except my nerves. I needed to look in control, to appear unconcerned; I had to at least act like I could take down the entire room with just one stomp of my magical foot.

“Remember what they did to your family,” Jericho shouted in my ear, feeling my tension.

“Yes, you're right. Thank you,” I yelled back, as we pushed through sweaty bodies, locked together in the rhythm of the dance floor.

Bubbles of every size floated through the room and popped on bare shoulders and hands raised high in the air. The chandeliers that hung from the ceiling were clear crystal and the candlelight that flickered on their ends, sent the reflections of the glass sparkling around the room like modern day disco balls. A DJ, spun songs in a booth hovering over the dance floor, and extending from the balcony circling the room. Beautiful girls danced on pedestals, and Immortals of every race, color and country celebrated together to the sounds of worldwide hits mixed into dance beats.

I looked around for Sebastian but the sea of people moving like violent waves around me swallowed me. I let Jericho pull me through the crowd, pushing people out of the way who barely noticed our efforts.

The bar was just as crowded as the dance floor, and the mix of hundreds of magics made it impossible to feel out Titus, Xander and Xavier. Jericho stood on his tiptoes, trying to get a better view until eventually he saw something he must have recognized.

He pulled me again, through more impossibly small spaces and to the corner of the bar where Xander and Xavier waited for us. They ordered themselves drinks and were sipping them slowly, trying to look bored.

“Where's Titus?” I shouted at them, working hard to be heard over the music.