Married (21 page)

“He told me Muso demanded my presence here for the ceremony.” Tulah lifted her arm without realizing, sliding it over Adam’s torso until he was as caught in her embrace as she was caught in his. “But he wouldn’t let my mother come with me.”

“Have you ever been away from her before?”

She gave him bonus points for insightfulness. “Never. We’re all each other has. Graves told her he bought all the houses on our street and we would have to move.”

“He took your home away again?” Adam’s hand pressed hard against her spine for a moment before gentling.

She lifted her chin and saw the anger in his eyes. “He basically told us that we would never see each other again, and that my mother should leave the country.”

“He’s an asshole.”

“Yeah.” Her voice was too sad, working to push past the lump in her throat. She put effort behind her next words, determined to make them stronger. “But I’m old enough now that I can fight back. Maybe not much, but something. Anything.
Anything
to keep him from taking everything again.”

“What are you going to do?”

She shrugged, her voice losing some of its vigor. “I thought I would talk to Muso. That if I explained, he would help.”

“Did you?”

She nodded and dropped her eyes. She traced a tight circle around the middle button on Adam’s dress shirt. “I talked to him today, after Graves told me he wanted to throw me into my uncle’s bed and force me to spy.”

Adam’s fingertips dug into her spine. “What did Muso say?”

“He told me he was going to give me to Charles, as soon as the situation here is taken care of. I don’t know if he meant as a wife or a mistress and I didn’t dare ask.”

“Every time you turn around, Charles is right there. He’d probably be thrilled to have you as his wife.”

“Muso didn’t say anything about marriage, though.” Tulah battled back an ill feeling. “I’m scared. I thought Graves and Charles were very loyal to each other. Charles earned respect with actions like holding Graves’ rivals down.” She laughed bitterly at the look on Adam’s face. “Trust me, I know.”

“What does that mean? Did he hurt you?”

“Not like what I think you mean. But I can’t—” Her eyes burned but she refused to let them fill with tears. “I don’t know how to avoid it. Not when the Father orders me to and Charles is so much stronger.”

Tulah could see a denial hovering on Adam’s tightening lips, but he did them both a favor by holding it back. He knew as well as she did that orders from the Family leader were impossible to ignore. He knew as well as she did how precarious her position was as a patriarchal female.

They stayed that way for a moment, face-to-face, breathing each other’s air, eyes locked. She studied him and he studied her. Tulah was looking for any sign of warmth from him, beyond his body’s heat. Adam listened to her, was gentle with her, but she thought it was because he was a matriarchal witch that he was naturally compassionate.

She wanted more than his kindness but didn’t know how to get what she needed. She looked closer and noticed a subtle lightening of his eyes, a certain tilt of his lips. Hope soared within her as the tautness of his eyelids eased. Maybe there was some caring for her in him
somewhere
.

“We grew up in very different circumstances.” Adam sighed and relaxed. Tulah immediately dropped her gaze.

“That doesn’t surprise me.” She felt no bitterness or hostility about that. Even if her father had still been alive, their circumstances would have been different. The Davenolds simply had so much more than the Ngozis ever would.

“I was spoiled,” he confessed, as if it were a regret. “Christiana was born three minutes and twenty-eight seconds before I was, and she was the answer to my grandmother’s prayers.”

Tulah looked up at him, but he was staring at the wall across the corridor. “Not Georgeanne?”

“We’re five years older than Georgie and all the grandchildren before us were boys. Christiana was the first girl. My grandmother took her from my mother to raise when she was just a few months old, and within a week she realized she had to take me, too.”

“Your mother couldn’t come?”

“I grew up in New Hampshire.” A wistful smile crossed his lips, there and gone. “My father’s business is in Pennsylvania, my older brother was in private school and my mother had carved quite a niche in society for herself. She wasn’t willing to give all that up, especially when she’d still see us whenever she wanted.”

Adam’s cheeks flinched, his brows pulled together and his lips opened. He stopped himself from speaking, only to huff and say, “Christiana and I are Matches. As soon as we’d been separated, both our health went downhill fast and it didn’t get better until we were together again. Grandmother said strange things happened, after Matches formed a bond.”

“They get sick without each other?”

“Some. Their magic becomes codependent.” He pinned her with a hard stare. “Don’t tell anyone, but Grandmother said she nearly died when my grandfather did, that it was all she could do to hold on to life. But she had the power of the Davenold bloodline and that helped her keep it together.”

Tulah knew very little about Matches. “I didn’t know that could happen.”

“Their magic bonds in unique ways, so if they spend a lot of time together it just makes their relationship that much more powerful.” He shrugged. “But I know some Matches that truly hate each other, and the theory apparently doesn’t hold true for them. They didn’t allow affection to flow into their magic, so they aren’t as strong.”

“I guess twins would be pretty close, huh?”

He laughed quietly. “Yeah, we’re close, but we’re also close with Georgie. Grandmother raised us all.”

“Where are her parents? In Pennsylvania with yours?”

“No, they live in New Hampshire, at the Family estate. Georgie’s father has a powerful position in the Family.”

Tulah would have given almost anything to be able to list more people in her immediate family than just her mother. She would have loved to spout off names of cousins and siblings, aunts and uncles and grandparents. She would have loved to have a huge clan, to be among them and hear them say her name in the same loving tone Adam used while speaking of his relatives. “Georgie’s more than a cousin to you.”

“She’s closer to me than my brother. Not quite as close as my sister, although me and Chris haven’t had a lot of time together, lately.”

“Because you’ve been here?”

“She got married a few months ago and I don’t always get along with her husband.”

“Why not?”

Adam hesitated. “He’s a little pushy. Not much, he’s a matriarchal witch, after all, but he doesn’t hold back his opinions. And there’s always this…hunger in his eyes, and I can’t quite figure out what he wants. Puts my teeth on edge.”

A tiny, desperate voice in Tulah’s head tempted her to dig for more. It whispered of Adam’s position with the Davenold heirs, that he’d been raised under the Matriarch’s guidance. It reminded Tulah that he could do so much to help her. She silenced the voice and focused on Adam’s face, watching in fascination as it shifted in miniscule amounts.

She could understand perfectly why he was such a valuable diplomat for his Family. His expression rarely gave away anything he didn’t want to show, yet Tulah was beginning to notice the small things. Even now, with his face impassive, she saw the subtle tension of his jaw ease, his lips smooth and soften. The irritating thought of his brother-in-law was fading, replaced by something much more to his liking. A thrill of discovery shot through her, and she watched for more clues.

As if to validate her observations, Adam smiled, his eyes meeting hers until the blue of his irises was all she could see. The clouds had consumed the sun beyond the pane and the dark colors Graves had favored for the hotel décor created a sense of intimacy Tulah hadn’t prepared herself for, but clutched at with every fiber of her being.

She shifted off Adam’s lap and lifted, bracing her hands against his chest, leaning in as she brought their faces closer. His hand at her back urged her on, stroking softly, but he was otherwise still and patient, allowing her to do as she wished.

She brushed her lips against his, sweetly, with no urgency. A chaste touch, a shared intimacy. His words were less important than how he’d said them, his expression and the emotion in his eyes. She didn’t think he was a man who let down his guard easily, but he had for her. Her kiss was a promise to keep his secrets to herself.

He deepened the kiss, but still kept it light. Lips clung, but didn’t open, heat built but didn’t rage out of control. Tulah didn’t press for more and neither did he. They had to get down to dinner after all, before their absence was noted.

His hands rose to cup her jaw, impressing her with an undeniable sense of fragility in her own bones. Caught in his big palms, she felt safe and cherished. He stroked her skin, she memorized the texture of his lips.

She took one more moment for herself before she pushed away and rose to her feet. Adam followed gracefully, took her hand and turned toward the stairs.

“I guess, in my own way,” he said softly, “I live in a world between, too. I was raised to be a strong man in a female-dominant world. I was raised to share my opinions and show my strengths. No matter who Madeleine chooses as her heir, I’ll be expected to help, and able to help.”

“That must be nice, to have some control over your own fate.” Tulah’s lips twisted but she fought to straighten them and keep her bitterness from ruining the moment. “I used to think that maybe Graves would forget about me and I could marry where I pleased, that I could have a family of my own, away from all the witching politics and power plays.”

“I’ve never had that option either, honey, but I do know where there’s a will, there’s a way. If you want to change your fate, then take the steps necessary to do so.”

She glanced up at him, but his face remained open, as far as he could make it. There was no hint of suspicion in his eyes, no tinge of antagonism in his voice. She thought of dinner, the influx of guests throughout the day who would join them for the meal.

“You’re right, Adam. I
should
take steps to gain control over my own life.”

Chapter Eighteen

Adam

With so many guests finally having arrived at the hotel, they used the big ballroom for dinner. The decorations had gone up, simple banners of ice blue and deep cobalt artfully draped along the walls, fat white candles in the centers of the crisp white tablecloths. The candles were low enough to remain virtually out of sight while looking across the round table at one’s neighbors. Adam wished Constance had gone for theatrical candelabras, instead.

She’d whispered to him of how she’d painstakingly created the seating arrangements for dinner when he’d reluctantly held her seat for her. Constance must have meant only their table, however, as Ngozi witches sat in gloomy clumps on one side of the room while Levys filled the remaining tables on the other, trying in vain to lighten the atmosphere with low laughter.

To his right, Daniel and Anne presided over a table containing Christiana and Silviu, Ileana and Eliasz, and Madeleine and Margaret. Their group was the luckiest in the room. Adam was stuck in a peculiar arrangement at the bride’s table—a place he’d give anything not to occupy.

He was squished between Constance and Georgie, all but on his cousin’s lap as he shied away from Constance’s wandering hands beneath the table. On the other side of the frisky Levy woman, Graves sat entirely too close to her father. Tulah and Charles sat beyond Warner while Muso rounded out their circle at Georgie’s other elbow.

Adam met his cousin’s emotionless gaze. She gave him a silent stare before letting her eyes slide toward Constance with a clear, if unspoken, demand. She turned to Muso. Adam sighed and bent a glittering smile on his conversational burden.

“How are you tonight, Constance?”

She immediately pouted, which oddly made her more beautiful. It was all Adam could do to hold on to his smile and remain at the table. “I’ve barely seen you at all,” she whined.

“Well, I’m sure you’ve been busy with the wedding plans. The ballroom looks wonderful, by the way.”

She leaned closer, bracing one arm on the tabletop so that her cleavage settled on it, pushing her bosom against the limits of her neckline. Her other hand dipped low to find his thigh. “You’ve been avoiding me, Adam.”

He covered her fingers with his and gave into the irritation eating him alive, squeezing just a hair harder than he knew he should have. “Don’t be silly, honey. Why would I avoid you?”

Her mouth worked for a moment, her gaze blanked. “Well, because you said…”

Adam glanced at Graves and lowered his voice until he wasn’t even certain if Constance could hear him. “I would certainly never be so rude as to avoid someone, honey.”

“Like Graves would care.” Constance’s words were as low as Adam’s. “
Look at him
. We’re surrounded by Family and he’s practically fucking my father at the table.”

He was surprised at her anger. “You knew that was going on when you agreed—”

“He’s the second seat, Adam. I am nothing to the Levys, but when I marry him—” Her lips pressed together. “He understands the position I’m in, because it mirrors his.”

Adam looked around the room again, noticing all the male faces. He also noticed Charles leaning in toward Tulah, whose cheeks had paled to a sickly hue. “The Levys treat their women better than the Ngozis. Graves, I know for a fact, has no respect for women. I’m thinking that runs in the Family.”

“I’ll be the secondary leader’s wife, I’ll naturally command respect.”

“You really think so?” Adam shook his head and dared another glance at Tulah, his stomach cramping at the expression on her face. “I think you’re making a bad bargain, honey, but it’s your life. However, I can’t let you drag me into it, so while I’m not avoiding you, neither will I be engaging with you.”

“Daniel would never have agreed to the match if he thought it wasn’t valuable. You act as if I’d be in danger.” Her lips curled triumphantly. “Are you worried about me?”