Guild of Secrets (Obsidian Queen Book 1) Page 2

  CHAPTER TWO

  “No,” I say simply, shaking my head while still reeling from the news that Finn not only has a brother, but it’s this man here. He’s never mentioned him.

  Judging from the scowl on the man’s face, I see why.

  “No what?” Finn fixes his collar, which has, for unknown reasons, gone askew.

  “No, I will not work with this man.” I cross my arms, letting my eyes flicker briefly over Gray before I return my gaze to Finn. “Find me another apprenticeship.”

  “Madeline,” Finn bites out. “It doesn’t work like that.”

  “Perhaps she thinks she gets special privileges.” Gray smirks, but his eyes are still hard. “I have no idea why she might make that assumption.”

  Finn blanches and clears his throat. Then, choosing to ignore his brother, says, “Six months, Madeline. We have a deal.”

  I stare at him, but he doesn’t show any signs of backing down.

  “Fine,” I say, but I draw out the word to let him know how displeased I am about the situation.

  “Not fine.” Gray steps forward. “We don’t need or want her on the team.”

  Finn’s brother isn’t exactly a “people person” now is he?

  “Oh really?” Finn rests his elbows on the desk and steeples his fingers. “Because I have a whole mess of paperwork that says you’ve been breaking laws left and right during your searches and arrests—using far too much magic in the open—and you could use a little accountability.”

  “You have never questioned my methods before—”

  “Excuse me.” I hold up my hand, cutting Gray off, and ask Finn, “What exactly is it you want me to do?”

  Finn reaches into a side drawer of his desk and produces a leather-bound ledger. It’s beautifully crafted, created by an Aparian artisan, and it bears an embossed royal insignia on the outer cover. “This is a book of statutes and limitations concerning all uses of magic in this world, including the codes of enforcement. By next week, I want you to be intimately familiar with it. After that, you will travel with Gray’s team and note every rule they break, reporting to me regularly with your current location and each of the infractions.”

  Gray looks like he wants to shove the ledger down his brother’s throat.

  Again, I hold a hand in front of me, this time asking the men for patience while I control the extreme irritation that’s welling up inside me. “Are you telling me that you gave my apprenticeship to Maisy so I can be a glorified babysitter for your brother and his associates?”

  “That’s exactly what he’s telling you,” Gray says, his voice dangerously low.

  Our eyes lock in challenge, and we study each other for several long seconds.

  He’s older than I am, though he must be younger than Finn or he’d be the one sitting at the desk. His chest is broad enough to stretch his dark blue T-shirt, but his waist is tapered and trim. Every inch of him screams off-limits. He’s the kind of man girls swoon over—the kind you kiss in the shadows but don’t bring home to your parents.

  The kind who probably goes through too many girls to ever worry about meeting anyone’s parents.

  If he wasn’t looking at me like I’m the most ridiculous nuisance he’s ever come across, I might flutter over him myself. But he is, and I’m not.

  I turn back to Finn, deciding to take a different tactic. I soften my features, give him my best innocent, sweet look—the doe-eyed type that brings out those chivalrous instincts in some men, making them want to stand up and protect the damsel in distress.

  “I don’t know, Finn. It sounds dangerous.” I flutter my eyes to the ground. “I have to be honest, I’m a little nervous.”

  Gray snorts, telling me he’s not the chivalrous type. Shocking.

  Finn though—he’s putty in my hands. His face softens, and he stands, setting his hands on my shoulders and looking me in the eyes. “You have nothing to worry about, Madeline. There’s no one more capable than Gray—”

  “That’s true,” Gray interrupts.

  Finn briefly shoots his brother a look and continues, “And he’ll do everything in his power to keep you safe.”

  “That’s debatable,” the knight interrupts again.

  I glare at Gray, and his lips quirk up in that ornery smirk once more.

  “Still…” I say, choosing to ignore the man by the door.

  Finn gives his brother an uncertain look and says, “Will you excuse us for a moment?”

  Gray narrows his eyes. “You want me to step outside?”

  “Just for a minute.”

  The knight hardens his jaw and strides into the hall, swinging the door closed behind him.

  “I didn’t want to tell you,” Finn says quietly, and he drops his hands to my waist, pulling me close. “But I’ve been working on something.”

  His strange, almost hesitant, tone makes my heart give an extra thump. I step in closer, running my hands up his chest. It’s a very nice chest for a man who sits in an office all day. “Yes?”

  Finn glances about the room, almost as if he’s worried he’s being watched. Then he leans close to my ear. “I’ve found a man who can alter the blood sample we have on file for you, make it read differently.”

  The blood that declares my magic type and parentage.

  Every person of Aparian descent must file their magic type with the Royal Guild when they turn thirteen. A small vial of blood is drawn, tested, and recorded. As far as I know, there is no way to fudge the results. I am, unfortunately, skilled in stealth. It’s an unwanted gift—the kind most associated with thieves.

  Once our magic is tested, we are placed in our faction. There are dozens and dozens of magical factions, all with their own crest. Each is represented by an animal, a mascot for which they are commonly referred to. I am a Urocyon—a Fox. But no one knows that but my parents, Finn, and me, and I would very much like to keep it that way.

  There are hundreds of faction houses across the globe. They are sanctuaries, places for us to practice our unique magic, meet in safety. And since the thresholds that allowed us to cross back and forth into our own land were destroyed a little over a thousand years ago, our factions are much needed.

  We are Aparians, from a land parallel to Earth but rich with magic. We’ve gone by many names in human history—wizards, witches, sorcerers, fairies, fae. We’re all those things, and yet none of those things exactly. And though we live beside humans, we are not human. We can marry them, dilute our bloodlines, eventually let our heritage fade. But we are our own beings.

  My chest squeezes, and my eyes search Finn’s. “What are you trying to say?”

  He leans down so his lips brush my ear. “I can give you a different lineage, change the type of magic stamped in your record.”

  I pull back, searching his eyes. “Even if that’s possible, it must be illegal.”

  Finn presses a finger to my lips. “That’s why we must be discreet.”

  “But I don’t understand,” I whisper. “Why would you do that?”

  He meets my eyes, and a smile plays at the corners of his lips. “Why do you think?”

  When I was young and romantic, when our affair was new, I dreamed Finn might throw expectations to the wind and elope with me despite my magic. I haven’t been that naive for years, so now that he’s giving me that look, hinting that he’s far more serious about me than I imagined, I don’t know what to do.

  “Finn.” That’s all I say—just his name, telling him that if he’s toying with me, I’m going to end him slowly.

  “I mean it, Madeline.” He steps forward. “You have to know how I care. I want us to have a chance, a real chance.”

  I suck in a breath, feeling lightheaded.

  “But I need you out of sight. If I place you here, planning your charity dinners for the guild, all beautiful and charming, you’ll have marriage offers within a week.” He presses a kiss to my lips, this one sweet. “And they can’t have you.”

  Lord Finnegan, future Grand Du
ke of our society, wants to be with me? It’s hard to believe, and yet my heart swells, desperately wanting what it can’t have.

  Or can it?

  “So, you’ll take the apprenticeship, won’t you?” Finn asks. “I swear you have nothing to fear. Gray can be difficult, but he’s got a good heart. I wouldn’t trust you with anyone else.”

  “Does this mean you and I are together?” I ask him, needing to hear him say it. “Exclusive?”

  He chuckles. “I thought I made that obvious.”

  “All right,” I finally say, “I won’t fuss over the apprenticeship any longer.”

  Finn kisses me again, and this time he lingers. His hands move over the silky fabric of my blouse, sliding to my back, pulling me closer.

  “Your brother’s just outside the door,” I remind him when his mouth moves to my throat.

  He hums a growl against my neck but continues his journey to my collarbone. With great reluctance, I step back, shooting him a look. For several seconds, Finn’s expression says he’s going to tug me back, but then he lets me loose.

  “Do you think it’s going to take a full six months then?” I ask.

  Finn retrieves the ledger from the desk and hands it to me. “I certainly hope not.”

  “And as soon as it’s finished?”

  His eyes narrow ever so slightly, and his expression darkens in a way that makes my stomach tighten. “Then you’re mine.”

  I almost step into him again, but the door swings open. “Time’s up,” Gray announces as he strides back into the office. “Run along now, princess. The boys need to have a grown-up conversation.”

  It takes every ounce of self-control I possess not to slap the smirk off his face. But since I still don’t know what his magic type is, and I suppose I’m going to have to play nice to get through the next several months, I give him a tight smile and step outside.

  I walk down the short hall, through an arch that leads to Finn’s secretary’s quarters. She’s a woman about ten years older than I am, constantly pregnant, and as sweet as can be. Today, Agatha has her four-year-old daughter and her youngest son with her. The two children sit on the floor under their mother’s desk, drawing on a lined legal pad.

  Agatha looks over, absently rubbing her rounded belly. “Oh, hello Madeline. I didn’t know you were here.”

  “You weren’t at your desk when I came in.”

  “I must have been on a restroom run,” she says quietly, motioning to the little girl sitting cross-legged on the floor. “Congratulations on your graduation, by the way. Are you happy with your apprenticeship assignment?”

  I only nod because I can’t get myself to lie. I start to leave when Agatha clears her throat, gives me a pointed look, and then dabs the side of her mouth.

  Frowning, I study her.

  “Lipstick,” she whispers, trying not to laugh, and then she hands me a tissue.

  Oh, right.

  I thank her and turn toward the exit. A man sits in the waiting area, and he watches me with intent eyes. He’s likely in his forties, built like a gorilla, and looks as though he believes himself to be much too important to be waiting.

  Self-conscious, I dab my mouth and give him a courteous nod as I hurry away.

  “Madeline, wait a minute,” a commanding voice says behind me. Unfortunately, that voice belongs to Finn’s brother.

  Putting on my best “why don’t you jump off a cliff?” expression, I turn toward him and say, “I don’t have to be civil to you for another week.” Then I tap the ledger. “I have homework to do first, remember?”

  He presses his lips together like he’s biting back a scathing retort, and then he gives me a pained smile. “I think we got off on the wrong foot. Join me for lunch. I’ll introduce you to the members of the team.”

  Someone got reprimanded.

  “I’m afraid I’m already late for my own graduation luncheon,” I tell him.

  “Tomorrow then,” he presses.

  My parents leave for Spain in the morning, so I’m afraid I don’t have much of an excuse. While trying to think of something, I glance behind me.

  Both Agatha and the waiting man watch us like we’re the best of daytime television. Not wishing to be of further entertainment, I nod. “Fine. Tomorrow.”

  We leave the waiting area and step into another hall.

  Heading left, Gray says, “I’ll pick you up at twelve.”

  “Wouldn’t it be helpful to know where I live?” I ask his retreating back.

  Gray glances over his shoulder. “You’re Lord Bennet’s daughter. I know where you live, princess.”

  “I eat at eleven,” I call to him, just to be difficult. “I have a strict schedule.”

  This time Gray doesn’t look back. “Like I said, I’ll see you at twelve.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  Charles Archibald Argyle III is so perfectly pedigreed, he should wear a crown. But the cat doesn’t wear a crown—he wears a knit vest in navy blue. May evenings can still be chilly, after all, and Charles Archibald Argyle III is hairless.

  He sits at the end of my bed, curled on his fleece blanket, watching as I prepare to meet my new “associates.” I stand in my closet, a scowl on my face, scanning rows upon rows of outfits.

  “What does one wear to a lunch date with a bunch of bounty hunters?” I ask Charles.

  The cat flicks his tail and then yawns.

  “My sentiments exactly,” I mutter.

  It’s twelve-fifteen, and there’s an excellent chance Gray is already here, waiting for me in the foyer—unless he’s not the punctual type, which wouldn’t surprise me at all.

  I finally decide on a short, tan skirt and a flowy, sleeveless blouse in white. I’ll skip hose and wear my heeled sandals for a casual, “lunch with ruffians” sort of look.

  I’m just stepping out of the closet, outfit in hand, when my door opens. Startled, I step back, nearly tripping over my own feet, and let out a surprised yelp. Charles, spooked by my reaction, leaps from his perch and darts under the bed.

  Gray stands in the doorway. He glances about as if perplexed, though I don’t know why the knight looks so surprised considering he’s the one who just barged into my bedroom.

  “What are you doing here?” I hiss, covering myself with the clothes even though I’m in my dressing gown and mostly decent.

  Gray’s eyes flick down, to the vee in my robe. I scowl and pull the silky fabric together. His gaze returns to my face—where it belongs—and he crosses his arms. The move flexes his biceps, making them strain against his T-shirt. “Your housekeeper let me in.”

  “Into the foyer. Certainly not my bedroom.”

  An irritated smile graces his lips, and he does a quick scan of his surroundings. “She told me to come up. I assumed it was a waiting room.”

  I follow his eyes, worried I might have left something embarrassing out. But everything is perfect, as always, thanks to my parents’ impeccable staff.

  “That’s some riveting reading material you have there.” Gray nods to a romance novel that I forgot was on my nightstand.

  Lillian, the same housekeeper who told Gray to come up to my room, left it for me, told me I should read it. There’s a shirtless man on the cover, and a woman stands against him, head back, lips partly open, eyes closed as if she’s experiencing great…well. You get the point.

  Feeling like I want to crawl under a rock, I hang the clothes on the changing screen in the corner of my room, playing nonchalant. The screen is a silly thing, completely worthless, but Father imported it from Milan on my fourteenth birthday, and I adore it.

  “Already started on it, have you?” Gray asks, oblivious to my discomfort. “Think you know enough to keep us in line?”

  It takes me a moment, but I realize he’s not talking about the smutty romance novel at all—he’s talking about the dry-as-dirt ledger to the side of it.

  Relaxing marginally, I say, “I finished it last night.”

  He raises his eyebrows. “You read the
entire book of law, from beginning to end, in one night?”

  I frown at the ledger. “Well, I skimmed it.”

  I stayed up well past midnight trying to read the awful thing. It’s as boring as watching grass grow. Perhaps more so.

  “We’re late,” Gray says, abruptly changing the subject. Once again, his eyes stray downward. “Are you going to change?”

  My hand tightens on the lapels of my robe. “Not with you standing there.”

  Jerking his head toward the screen, he asks, “Isn’t that what that thing is for?”

  He stares at me in a silent dare. And though my cheeks heat, I’m not about to wither in front of him. He’s testing me, seeing how easy I’ll be to push around.

  With my eyes locked on his, I step behind the partition.

  “How long have you been sleeping with my brother?” he casually asks, and from the way his voice moves, I can tell he’s walking around my room, taking it in, probably snickering over the stupid book Lillian gave me.

  “I’m not sleeping with him,” I bite out, quickly pulling off my robe.

  “No?” he says, disinterested. “That would make you the first girl who hasn’t.”

  I stick my head around the screen. “I’m sorry?”

  Gray lowers himself onto the end of my bed, sitting on it like he belongs there. The sight of him on my cream-colored comforter, with his long, long denim-clad legs and tall, masculine build, does something funny to my chest. My mouth goes dry, and I purse my lips.

  “Surely you know you’re one of many,” Gray says as if it’s common knowledge.

  The man’s lying, and I know it. He’s just trying to get under my skin.

  “Get off my bed,” I command.

  A wicked smile plays over his face as he studies me. “You sound flustered, princess.”

  “Don’t call me that.”

  He deepens his voice, enjoying himself a little too much. “What do you want me to call you?”

  “I don’t want you to call me anything. I want you out of my room.”

  Perhaps tired of the game, he stands abruptly and starts for the door. “Five minutes. If you’re not ready after that, I’ll drag you out myself.”