Branwel , miss.”
Tessa sank into the chair by the bed, wincing as Jessamine’s dress pinched her. “I wish you would cal me Tessa.”
“I know, miss.” Sophie left, closing the door quietly behind her.
Magnus was lying on the sofa in the drawing room with his boots up when he heard the commotion. He grinned without moving at the sound of Archer protesting, and Wil protesting. Footsteps neared the door. Magnus flipped a page in his poetry book as the door swung open and Wil stalked in.
He was barely recognizable. His elegant evening clothes were torn and stained with mud, his coat ripped lengthwise, his boots encrusted with mud. His hair stood up wildly, and his face was raked by dozens of scratches, as if he had been attacked by a dozen cats simultaneously.
“I’m sorry, sir,” said Archer despairingly. “He pushed past me.”
“Magnus,” Wil said. He was grinning. Magnus had seen him grin before, but there was real joy in it this time. It transformed Wil ’s face, took it from beautiful but cold to incandescent. “Tel him to let me in.”
Magnus waved a hand. “Let him in, Archer.”
The human subjugate’s gray face twisted, and the door slammed behind Wil . “Magnus!” He half-staggered, half-stalked over to the fireplace, where he leaned against the mantel. “You won’t believe—”
“Shh,” said Magnus, his book stil open on his knees. “Listen to this: I am tired of tears and laughter,
A nd men that laugh and weep
Of what may come hereafter
For men that sow to reap:
I am weary of days and hours,
Blown buds of barren flowers,
Desires and dreams and powers
A nd everything but sleep.”
“Swinburne,” said Wil , leaning against the mantel. “Sentimental and overrated.”
“You don’t know what it is to be immortal.” Magnus tossed the book aside and sat up. “So what is it you want?”
Wil pul ed up his sleeve. Magnus swal owed a sound of surprise. Wil ’s forearm bore a long, deep, and bloody gash. Blood braceleted his wrist and dripped from his fingers. Embedded in the gash, like a crystal sunk into the wal of a cave, was a single white tooth.
“What the—,” Magnus began.
“Demon tooth,” Wil said, his breath a little short. “I chased that blue bastard al around Chiswick, but it got away from me—not before it bit me, though. It left this tooth in me. You can use it, right? To summon the demon?” He took hold of the tooth and yanked it free. Even more blood wel ed up and spil ed down his arm, splattering onto the ground.
“Camil e’s carpet,” Magnus protested.
“It’s blood,” said Wil . “She ought to be thril ed.”
“Are you al right?” Magnus looked at Wil in fascination. “You’re bleeding a great deal. Haven’t you a stele on your person somewhere? A healing rune—”
“I don’t care about healing runes. I care about this.” Wil dropped the bloody tooth into Magnus’s hand. “Find the demon for me. I know you can do it.”
Magnus glanced down with a moue of distaste. “I most likely can, but . . .”
The light in Wil ’s face flickered. “But?”
“But not tonight,” said Magnus. “It may take me a few days. You’l have to be patient.”
Wil took a ragged breath. “I can’t be patient. Not after tonight. You don’t understand—” He staggered then, and caught himself by seizing the mantel. Alarmed, Magnus rose from the sofa.
“Are you al right?”
The color was coming and going in Wil ’s face. His col ar was dark with sweat. “I don’t know—,” he gasped. “The tooth. It might have been poisonous . . .”
His voice trailed off. He slid forward, his eyes rol ing up. With an epithet of surprise Magnus caught Wil before he could hit the bloody carpet and, hoisting the boy in his arms, carried him careful y over to the sofa.
Tessa, seated in the chair beside Jessamine’s bed, massaged her aching ribs and sighed. The corset was stil biting into her, and she had no idea when she’d get a chance to remove it; her feet ached, and she hurt down deep in her soul. Seeing Nate had been like having a knife twisted in a fresh wound. He had danced with “Jessamine”—flirted with her—and had casual y discussed the fate of Tessa, his sister, as if it meant nothing to him at al .
She supposed it should not surprise her, that she should be beyond surprise where Nate was concerned. But it hurt just the same.