Page 43

“Apologies, Mistress, but you have guests. They’ve requested your presence.”

“What do you mean, guests? No one is allowed in this house without my permission.”

The anculus wrung his hands. “Yes, well, Magister Steele is here, and he’s brought two of his associates with him. I thought it prudent Mister Soren allow them inside.”

No wonder Gilbert didn’t refuse them. Tiberius being here could only mean bad things. “Tell them I’ll be right down.” She slipped out of bed. “Where’s Liam?”

Gilbert winced. “Your bodyguard is in the study, keeping the magister and his associates company in your absence.”

“C’est la merde,” she protested. What a mess. Liam was with the magister, unsupervised.

She rushed through dressing, throwing on a figure-hugging top and a pair of gauzy Palazzo pants with legs so flowing they were practically a skirt. After a quick comb-out and a touch of mascara, she breezed down the stairs.

The study was a room she rarely used, finding it dull and oppressive with its heavy damask wallpaper and cavernous bookcases laden with thick leather spines. To her relief, she discovered Liam just inside the doorway, behaving himself other than the utter lack of respect displayed on his face. Arms folded, massive frame cemented in place, he stared down those gathered with steely annoyance.

At her arrival, two pale-faced men rose from the tufted settee, and Tiberius turned from his position before the fireplace. She greeted the magister with a tight smile, addressing him formally in front of his associates. “Magister Steele.” She smoothed her hair. “Do forgive my appearance. I wasn’t expecting visitors.”

He stared back at her with a hard glint in his eyes and zero warmth. She’d little doubt he was angry she’d defied his guard yesterday. In doing so, she’d rejected his protection. Again.

“Apologies for coming unannounced,” he said, his manner terse, “but we have a pressing matter to discuss. This is Faust and Bellamy from the Mage Syndicate.”

Her breath hitched. The Syndicate rarely associated with members of the Council.Neverdid they make unexpected house calls.

The combined heat of their intense scrutiny sparked over her skin like static, the sensation tugging at unwanted memories.

Until this moment, Alistair was the only mage she’d ever encountered face to face. He’d had few friends within the mage community. When he’d agreed to work for the Council, he’d been ostracized by his peers. Peers like Faust and Bellamy.

“Pleasure to meet you.” She offered a benign smile while taking their measure. Both men had the appearance of rumpled scholars who’d pulled an all-nighter while unraveling the mysteries of the universe. Faust was tall and lean, his hallowed expression that of a hawk. His partner, Bellamy, reminded her more of an owl, his bloodshot eyes overly large on his face. Tufts of hair stood out at strange angles from his head as though he’d raked his hands through it as he perused some ancient tome.

“Would you like some coffee or tea, perhaps?” She noted that Gilbert, Goddess bless the man, had already set a cup of espresso on the table for her.

“Please take a seat, Ms. Laurent.” Faust ignored her polite greeting, his tone hard and authoritative. “There are many things requiring my attention today, and I have little time to spare for trivial things.”

And yet he’d used that precious time to darken her doorstep.

Rather than draw out the uncomfortable meeting by arguing, she narrowed her eyes and eased into a chair, saying nothing.

Poor man. He had no idea who he was dealing with. Vivian Laurent wasn’t easily cowed. While he rummaged through his leather satchel, she sipped from her morning libation, infusing her system with caffeine. Apparently, she was going to need it.

Tiberius cast Liam a dismissive glance. “Perhaps your companion could give us some privacy. I’m afraid much of what we have to discuss is of a personal nature.”

“Hercompanionisn’t leaving,” Liam growled.

Whatever they had planned, it wouldn’t hurt to have a bit of muscle in her corner. “Liam will stay,” she stated.

“Very well.” Tiberius frowned, claiming one of the armchairs while she had taken the other. Liam moved from his position at the desk, standing directly behind her chair. All the better to glare at their uninvited guests. While more than capable of taking care of herself, Vivian had to admit, she felt a bit taller having him there.

Faust dug into his bag, withdrawing several black-spined notebooks. One at a time, he laid them with deliberate precision across the length of the table. At the sight of those journals, a chill ran through her. She struggled to school her expression.Tiberius, what have you done?

“I’m relieved to find you unharmed, Vivian,” Tiberius said as though oblivious to the turmoil he’d caused. “You can’t imagine my alarm when my guard returned without you.”

“It was not my intention to worry you, Magister. I’m sure you understand the difficult position in which I found myself.”

Tiberius lifted his eyes to the male standing behind her, and his expression hardened. “Yes. I understand perfectly.”

With zero patience for his posturing, she focused her attention on her guests, offering her most benign smile. “Now, gentlemen, perhaps you’d like to explain to me whattrivial thinghas brought you to my doorstep.”

It was Tiberius who answered. “There is much those of us in the underworld don’t know about the mage. Given the grievous nature of the attack yesterday, I believed it prudent to call in a couple experts on the matter.”