Page 54 of Arcane Entanglement

The fact that he was entertaining such thoughts about someone he’d met a mere day ago was frankly irrational. Yet, his instincts, and his heart, told him Viggo was everything he wanted and more.

A wave of lassitude washed over him, the events of the past three days and his own turbulent emotions finally catching up on him. Evander took a shaky breath and pinched the bridge of his nose.

I have to get over these unrealistic feelings. Nothing will ever come of them. He hates mages and he’s made that fact crystal clear.

The distant toll of church bells marked the hour a moment later.

Evander opened his eyes and looked outside. He frowned.

They were passing Covent Garden.

Alastair Millbrook’s atelier was located nearby, on King William Street.

I should visit the place with Rufus tomorrow.

Shaw had already processed the workshop and Millbrook’s lodgings above it with the help of a team from the AFD. Though she hadn’t picked up any clues as to the identity of Millbrook’s murderer, her report indicated that someone had recently broken into the building.

Evander was pondering what Viggo had revealed aboutNoctis Bloomand its properties and what that said aboutNightshade’s ability to glean information no other guild could, when the bustling sounds of central London faded upon the carriage reaching Mayfair.

Graham soon pulled up in front of the townhouse.

Evander thanked Samuel and the coachman as he stepped outside.

The magical wards he’d erected around his home brushed against his skin when he climbed the stairs leading to the portico of the elegant Georgian residence. The Portland stone and tall, multi-paned sashed windows making up the frontage gleamed in the light of the elegant lanterns flanking the heavy, black door with its brass knocker in the shape of a raven perched on a crescent moon.

Hargrove gave him a quizzical look when he took his coat in the foyer.

“Bad day at the office, my Lord?”

Evander took this as a sign that his recently revealed secret had yet to make it to the manservant’s ears.

“You could say that. Please tell Cook to prepare a light supper and bring it to my private study. I shall retire early tonight.”

The office adjacent to his bedchamber was a more intimate and functional space than the formal one downstairs. The walls were covered in a rich, forest green, textured paper with a subtle pattern of leaves and vines, and lined with bookshelves holding an extensive collection of arcane tomes and spell books. An enchanted map of London highlighting the current crime scenes in the capital took pride of place above the marble fireplace, the orange glow of the dots warm beneath the glass case protecting them.

It was a smaller replica of the one in Winterbourne’s office, in Scotland Yard, and had cost Evander a pretty penny to commission.

Tucked in front of the window was an oakwood desk carved with magical symbols and runes to protect the private contents of its drawers. The desk was perfectly organised, with neat stacks of parchment and quills, and inkwells that Hargrove regularly topped up.

A door at the back led to a small laboratory equipped with a workbench, various alchemical tools, and shelves stocked with magical ingredients and components.

Evander was enjoying a drink in one of the velvet armchairs by the fire when Hargrove entered the room with a serving cart laden with a carefully curated selection of dishes. He set out a rich, steaming broth and an accompaniment of fine cheeses and sandwiches on the table beside Evander’s chair.

Hargrove returned an hour later to clear the dishes.

“Would you like some tea, my Lord?”

“No, thank you. I prefer something stronger tonight.”

Hargrove eyed the Scotch glass in Evander’s hand. “Isn’t that your third drink already?”

“It is.” Evander narrowed his eyes slightly at the manservant’s disapproving tone. “Why?”

Hargrove pursed his lips. “You have a day off this Sunday, do you not?”

“I do,” Evander replied warily. “Where is this going, Jasper?”

Hargrove took on an aggrieved air. “Just go visit that poncy club, my Lord. That toy of yours is not doing you any good. You will feel much better after spending the night under a rugged, hairy-chested stud who will make you forget all your troubles.”