I’m panting from stress, and my head feels as if it’s an orange that’s been squeezed dry of all its juice. I hate standing up to people. Hate this party. Hate this asshole in front of me. But I hate that he’s disparaging Ben more. I hate that he’s trying to humiliate him in front of his peers just to get a leg up on him, and I won’t stand by and let it happen.
Somewhere in the distance, amid the crowd, I catch a glimpse of bright red hair—Willem. He smiles approvingly in our direction and disappears into the crowd once more.
“It’s not proper for her to speak to me in that kind of tone,” Tiberius blusters, shocked by my vehement defense of Ben. “Where are her manners?”
I open my mouth to point out that I can speak for myself, but Ben detangles his hands from mine and puts them on my shoulders in a possessive gesture. He leans over me, getting in Tiberius’s face. “You’ll have to forgive her. She’s a mongrel without any training, remember?”
And he quickly steers me away before I—or Tiberius—can say anything more.
I bite back the response brimming inside me, because everyone’s still staring. My cheeks flush with anger and embarrassment both, and I let Ben tug me down a side hall at breakneck speed, my shoes clattering. After a too-long moment, the murmur of the party returns, and I’m able to breathe a little easier.
I just told off a warlock who’ll probably curse me with eternal hiccups the moment we get out of this party, but I can’t be sorry about it. Ben deserves better than that idiot’s scorn. No wonder Ben doesn’t like to spend time with his fellow warlocks. No wonder he feels alone. If they’re all like that guy, I get it.
Ben speeds up, and I nearly lose one of Lisa’s shoes as he drags me toward a pair of double doors down another hall. I totter after him as quickly as I can. The air is slightly cooler here, the crush of bodies less pressing, and the moment Ben reaches the doors, he pushes them open. I catch the barest glimpse of neat, organized bookshelves before Ben hauls me inside.
“Are we hiding?” I ask, confused. “Because—”
Ben shuts the door, and in the next moment, he presses my back to it, his hands cupping my face as he kisses the hell out of me.
I bite back a moan, my hands curling against the chest of his jacket as his tongue teases mine, his lips devouring. All the air in the room is suddenly gone, because Ben’s stealing it from my lungs with his intense, hungry kisses. His hands are all over my torso, his thumbs working my nipples through the slinky fabric, and I’m writhing with anticipation when he slips a hand into the loose front of my dress, cupping my breast even as he devours me with hungry kiss after hungry kiss. When he finally comes up for air, I let out a dazed whimper of protest.
“No one,” he murmurs, kissing me one more time, “has ever done that for me.”
“N-not even Dru?” Oh god, he’s kissed me so hard I’m stuttering. I stare at his mouth, wondering if maybe he’d kiss me again. I think I’m addicted to his mouth.
Ben shakes his head and presses his mouth to mine again, but it’s a short, hard kiss. “That’s different. Right now, I’m not sure if I should kill you for looking so fucking sexy in that dress and standing up for me, or if I should eat you alive. You—”
Someone clears their throat behind us.
We both go still. Ben suddenly grins down at me, boyish delight on his face, and I fight the urge to giggle. This is the happiest I’ve seen him all day, and it makes me want to wrap my arms around him and squeeze him tight. If everyone saw this man smile, his fearsome reputation would be gone in an instant. It just lights up his whole face, that wide, goofy, radiant smile.
“Are we interrupting something?” Ben calls over his shoulder. I peek over, too . . . and then I pinch Ben, because that’s the guy we’re looking for.
That’s Abernathy, standing right by the bookshelves. His little wire-rimmed glasses are perched on the end of a long, thin nose, his white hair circles the lower half of his head like a fuzzy collar, and he gives us a look of pure disapproval as he flips through an old leather-bound book the size of a wallet. “This area is off-limits.”
Ben turns, his expression serious. “Abernathy? Louis Abernathy?”
“What of it?” The man turns away, his back to us, and returns his book. He picks up another and peers at the pages. I frown because the tidy, straight lines of his coat are suddenly pulling to one side as if weighted down. When he immediately turns away again, I realize he’s not putting the books back. He’s stealing them and shoving them into his jacket.
Holy shit, is everyone at this party absolutely out of their damn minds? I give Ben an incredulous look, but I don’t know if he’s noticed Abernathy’s light-fingered actions. He strides toward him, grabbing my hand again as he does. “Willem told us you’d be here tonight. We need your assistance with something.”
Abernathy lifts his head. “Oh?” His gaze falls to my front and he frowns, then looks over at Ben.
Ben looks at me and then shifts his weight, leaning in front of me and blocking me from Abernathy’s view as he discreetly tucks my roving tit back into the front of my dress. Whoops.
“We need your help breaking down a spell,” Ben tells him. “Is it true that you can tear apart a spell and see who’s cast it, even without the original components?”
Abernathy nods. “Yes, that’s true.”
Ben sags with relief. “Good. Someone’s cursed my aunt, and if we can find out who did it, we can fix it.”
“Cursed? Drusilla?” Abernathy looks surprised. He glances up from his book. “That is too bad. What kind of curse?”
“Sopor.” Ben’s hand tightens on mine. “She won’t wake up. She also says her familiars have been cursed, all of them. Clearly someone has an ongoing feud with her.”
Abernathy’s gaze moves toward my wrists, both of which are covered in familiar cuffs. “Is that why you’re . . . sharing her familiar?”
“I volunteered,” I say before Ben can respond. “I want to find who’s doing this to Dru, and Ben needed my help.”
Abernathy just nods and goes back to reading his book.
I can feel Ben tense. He glances back at me, then watches Abernathy. The man continues to read, licking a fingertip and flipping a page before setting the book down on the shelf once more. He picks up a new one, and Ben’s hand clenches mine.
“Well?” Ben says after another tense moment. “Will you help us?”
Abernathy looks up, as if just now remembering we’re still in the room. “Oh. No. Good evening to you both.”
“Why not?” Ben’s voice is full of anger and frustration.
“Because I am retired,” Abernathy says, looking back down at the book. He flicks through a few more pages, then turns his back to us, and I’m almost positive he shoves the book into his jacket instead of putting it back on the shelf.
“What do you want to help us?” I suggest, because I can feel Ben tensing, like a volcano about to blow its top. “We have money. We’ll get you whatever components you need. We’ll pay you whatever you want. We just need to help Dru. She doesn’t have much time left.”
“No thank you.”
“Please,” I beg. “It would mean so much to us.”
“I don’t need money.” Abernathy sounds bored.
I’m starting to tense as much as Ben is. “Then what?”
“Silence would be nice. A quiet place to study would be nice.”
“We’ll leave you alone if you cast this spell for us,” I say quickly. “The moment we get the answer we need, we’ll leave this party and leave you alone. We won’t ever bother you again.”
Abernathy smirks, running a finger along the spine of another book. “Tempting, but no.”
Nothing we offer works, either. We try money, jewels, cars. Ben suggests a house. A private island. Rare components. That makes Abernathy pause, but he only shakes his head and does his best to ignore us. All the while, he fingers the books on the shelf, flicking through them as if they’re so much more important than a woman that’s dying, withering away under a spell.