There were too many troubled thoughts swarming around inside Cordray’s head like killer bees for him to pick just one on which to fixate. It left a dull headache in him whenever he tried to turn off all errant magic that radiated from him. It was a thing of luck that he worked from his condo for the most part, and Rory was occupied during most of her days. Still, he didn’t mind the headaches he’d endured while pretending his magic was completely muted. Rory felt safe around him if he made it seem like his powers were taken away by the pill, so he gave her the lie if it got them closer together.
The coroner’s report had blamed faulty wiring for Anissa Phillips’ death. It was a kindness Cordray’s father had done to ensure his son stayed protected. It was the first time Cord admitted aloud what he’d done in years, his last time being a tearful plea to his father on his deathbed for forgiveness. Though Cordray had been assured he didn’t need the clemency he begged for, his father granted him a full dose of his kind, welcoming forgiveness all the same before he passed away.
Cordray knew that if he wanted to start a life with Rory, she and Benjamin needed to know what she was getting herself into.
“It’s quite incredible that your magic can burn through a pill,” Benjamin explained from his place next to the door. His hands were in his pockets as he leaned against the wall, watching Cordray shift uncomfortably in the chair at Rory’s bedside, while Adam reassembled his bearings in the second chair nearer the door. “Lethals who actually kill people while their abilities are in full swing are rare, but I’ve never heard of anyone accessing their Lethal powers while on the pill. That’s the whole point of the medication!”
“Yet we’re all treated like we’re about to go on a murdering spree, even if we’re properly medicated.” There weren’t many objects in the room, but the few items suspended midair around him, trumping up the menace that swirled inside his heart. There was no point in giving himself a headache anymore by attempting to control his magic. “I’m not dangerous. I wear my gloves and, apart from just now, I never take them off.” His eyes cut to Benjamin. “I would never hurt her.”
Benjamin’s voice was quiet with weight. “I know that. I also know that the Chancellor’s going to have something to say about this.”
The room was quiet as Adam and Benjamin studied Cordray as he watched Rory. “What’s your Pulse?” he asked both men.
Adam snorted. “None of your business. I’ve already given you space in my castle, and I regret it very much. You don’t need to go poking around in my private life.”
Benjamin shot Adam a withering look. “Don’t listen to Adam; he’s always in a mood about something.”
“Yes, being electrocuted puts me in the cheeriest of dispositions,” Adam droned.
Benjamin shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “My Pulse works sort of like a filter, rather than pressing impulses into people. I can read false intentions. I touch a person, and if they’re trying to deceive me, I can feel that.”
“Like a human lie detector?”
“Exactly.”
Cordray swallowed. “That sounds pretty useful in your profession. Bet you’re wishing you’d Pulsed me in the beginning to see if the pill would actually work on me.”
Benjamin shifted against the wall, his arms moving to cross over his chest. “Yes, well, had that even been a possibility I’d known to question, I would have.
Cordray’s mouth tightened. “I only Pulsed Adam because he looked like he was going to attack Story.”
“Who?”
Cord grimaced that he’d let her nickname slip. He jerked his chin at the lifeless girl on the bed. He looked away, embarrassed that he’d let himself attach so easily to her, when he was layered with so many deadly secrets. Not that he could have resisted the pull she had on him. If he was being honest with himself, not even the fact that she might still be engaged to Prince Henry registered a retreat in his mind. He’d never felt as calm and settled as he had when sitting next to her on the couch after their dinners together every night.
Cordray cleared his throat and leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. “I don’t go around hurting people at random.”
Adam stood and paced the room as he took it all in, listening to Benjamin go back and forth with Cordray on how best to secure Rory’s safety, and interjecting when necessary. His gait had slumped off-kilter after the painful shock, but he didn’t complain. On the contrary, it seemed that whenever Cordray apologized for the attack, Adam only grew more surly. “Rory is my oldest friend. Of course I’d never harm her. But don’t apologize for defending her from what you thought would be an assault. Apologies make men look weak.”
Cord couldn’t help but spout back, “I’m sorry you feel that way.”
Adam stiffened at the sass, but instead addressed Benjamin. “You’re certain she didn’t prick her finger? She should’ve been awake by now.”
Benjamin moved to the window, staring out at the autumn leaves falling on the vast expanse of overgrown land as he spoke. “Cordray saw the whole thing. The man didn’t have a needle. He Pulsed her.”
“Then why isn’t she awake?” Adam growled, a low rumble vibrating his chest.
Benjamin kept his eyes on the red, yellow and orange leaves that were falling on the tall shrubbery designed to keep the world out. He noticed Adam’s wince when a wolf’s howl sliced through the quiet, but didn’t address his flinch. “The position of Chancellor is a coveted seat. King Hubert holds only slightly more power than Rory’s father. The king even has to consult the Chancellor before he enacts new laws. It’s a system of checks and balances that’s fragile, but it works. There have been countless failed attacks on the two men, so oftentimes the miscreants refocus their attacks on Rory.” He let out a heavy sigh that filled the room with a weight of sadness for the state of the darker parts of the world. “That means Prince Henry’s security needs tightening, as well.”
Cordray nodded. “That’s what I’ve been thinking. If they can’t get to the Chancellor, then they’ll pick off the next generation of rulers.”
Benjamin nodded. “Malaura would love to get her hands on you. Rory was smart to keep your relationship private. Once Malaura knows you exist?” He shook his head.
Adam didn’t hold back his growl. “I don’t need any talk of her in my house. Her name has done enough damage to me.” Then he turned his head over his shoulder and spoke through gritted teeth at the golden candelabra that he’d brought in to rest on the end table. “I told you to shut up. They don’t need to know about that.” Then he paused, as if listening to a voice that Cordray and Benjamin could not hear. “It’s nobody’s business but mine.”
Cordray’s eyebrows rose, but he didn’t say anything about Adam addressing a brass candelabra as if it was a person. The thing was two feet tall, and bespoke of old wealth.
Benjamin cast Cordray a covert look to be cool, confirming that yes, Adam was a very ill man in ways that weren’t fixable by plastic surgery. He cleared his throat and continued, turning his attention back to the snow that fell several stories below. “Malaura always wanted more influence, so she dipped into the database of Lethals who’d registered to take the pill, gathering them to herself to form a sort of army. What power she lacked, she made up for with force, acquiring people who could outperform the others. It’s why she chose Remus to be her protégé, even though he’s not a Lethal. He understands things about magic better than anyone. Lucky for him that he got out from under her thumb when he was still young.”
Adam paced in circles around the room, shooting Rory looks of concern as the minutes ticked by. “But the old witch forgot one thing. We run on a democracy. She was voted out of office, and her more violent followers were locked up. If I had to guess, I’d bet that it’s her people behind Rory’s attack.”
“Everyone thought that when her brother Hubert was voted in, all those problems would go away. He’s a good man.”
Cordray couldn’t take his eyes off of Rory. “But we still have Lethals who are drumming up the stigma all of us get branded with. So all of us pay the price, living in our cabins in the woods, and keeping away from daughters with fathers who love them.”
“The kingdom’s been mostly at peace ever since, though Malaura’s always out there in the shadows, planning who knows what. There’s the occasional attack, but that’s to be expected.” Benjamin moved over to the bed to check on Rory, prying up her eyelids before he gave her a paternal kiss on the forehead. “Everyone assumed Malaura would go away after she was voted out. She murdered twelve guards when she came back at the kingdom-wide celebration that happens whenever the king or the Chancellor have a baby. Rory was a month old when Malaura cursed her, and she’s carried that weight ever since.”
When it seemed Benjamin was unable to continue, Adam finished the dreaded tale, his words clipped. “‘On the child’s twenty-fifth birthday, she’ll prick her finger and die.’ Not exactly a lullaby, but that’s what Rory got from Malaura.” Adam flinched when the evil ex-queen’s name escaped his lips. “And I said we weren’t going to talk about her in my home!” Adam whirled on Cordray, his anger coming out in what was almost a roar. “You’ve brought nothing but disaster into my house!”
Benjamin crossed the room and popped the flat of his hand to the beast’s chest. “Sit down, Adam. We get it; you’re angry at the world. Don’t take it out on the new guy.” Then Benjamin addressed Cordray with sadness shining in his eyes.
Benjamin rubbed his forehead, wishing the trail didn’t end where he saw it all heading. “After Malaura doled out her curse, Rory’s uncle did something incredible for her. Remus loves his brother so much that he sacrificed five years of his lifespan to issue out a counter to Malaura’s curse. It’s hard to enact a counter-curse, but Remus is just that powerful. He was only twelve years old, and he was able to find a way to give us some hope.”
Cordray wanted to pace the room, but he knew any sudden movements would make the men uneasy. “I know all of this, and none of it scared me away. Instead of dying, Remus twisted the curse so that Rory will prick her finger on her twenty-fifth birthday, and fall into a deep, unshakable sleep – not unlike the one she’s in now.” Then to her, he whispered quietly, “Come on, Story. Wake up already.”
Benjamin ran his hand over his face. “If the only antidote to her impending coma wasn’t true love’s kiss, I would have sent you away the second I learned you were Lethal. I’m not sure which is more dangerous at this point – you, her curse, or the fact that you might be the only cure for her curse.”
Cordray flexed his fingers a few times, looking down to keep his thoughts private. “I haven’t said that to her yet. It’s only been a month.” Though as he said it, he felt the sting of falsity on his tongue. The words were there, but logic made him tuck them back inside.
Adam snorted dismissively. “I’ll never understand our society’s obsession with love.”
“I’m sure you don’t,” Benjamin retorted. “Love is the only thing that can unravel the hate it takes to come up with a curse. Remus’ counter-curse was strategic. At twelve years old, he understood things about the world that most of us will never grasp.”
Cordray moved his chair closer to Rory’s bedside, making eye contact with Benjamin to silently tell him that he wasn’t going to touch her without permission, but he’d tolerated just about all he could of the distance between them.
“Careful,” Benjamin warned, though he didn’t move to separate them further.
“She’ll be fine. I won’t touch her. Now that I know what to look for, I can guard her better when we’re out and about.”
Adam rolled his eyes. “I wouldn’t leave him alone with her, unless you want to be guarding royal babies in nine months. He’s a heartbeat away from coupling with her right in front of us.”
Cordray was about to bite back with an acerbic retort, but suddenly nothing else in the world mattered, because Rory began to stir.