Page 24 of Curses & Keys (Curses & Gods #1)

PHAEDRA

C harlie’s motorcycle cuts my commute time in half. At the farmhouse, I’m in and out in less than five, and ready to head back when I realize I don’t know where I’m going. While the helmet has Bluetooth, I don’t dare call Jamison from it. Who knows what kind of tracking Charlie installed on it.

Sighing, I stop the bike, pull off the helmet, and pick up my lovely encrypted phone and dial. Instead of Jamison’s crisp British accent, a deliciously smooth voice answers. “Mathias.”

I pull the phone away from my ear. Nope, I dialed Jamison. He must be more pissed than I thought. I’m tempted to hang up and do this on my own. Seconds go by while I sit and mull over my options. I breathe in and out a few times. Finally, I grit my teeth and ask for the address.

“Good choice,” Mathias says coolly, then relays the information before hanging up.

I wipe a hand across my brow. That was a hell of a lot harder than I expected.

Over the years, I’ve made some ironclad rules about working with others.

My network supplies what I need, and I pay them for it.

Clean. Easy. Limited interaction. I might wish for friends, but it’s safer on my own.

Lonely, but at least I’m not endangering anyone else.

This…Jamison…thing is already messy and full of everything that can go wrong.

Not to mention the attraction between Hawthorne and me.

All these years spent by myself, I’ve never felt the urge to change my ways for anyone or put my identity at risk.

With them, I find myself wanting to show them who I am, share my secrets, and it’s terrifying. How do I keep some distance between us?

For a second more, I contemplate disappearing. There are plenty of places to hide in the world, although they’re shrinking by the decade. My hands tighten on the handles, as if rebelling against the thought, and I blow out a breath. Putting the helmet back on, I take off.

The brick industrial building is on the same street as my gym. Lights shine dimly in the early morning light. I swing a leg off the bike. “Go home.” It leaves instantly. I smirk. That’s a handy little spell.

When I turn around, Jamison’s standing there with a blank expression on his face.

Oddly enough, I don’t sense any anger, and my own irritation fades.

When he didn’t answer the phone, it pissed me off.

I knew he would be angry I left his protection, but I didn’t expect him not to answer.

Although I probably would have ignored his call had he done the same. Irrational, but there you go.

Throwing caution to the wind, I decide to tell him the truth. “I couldn’t take you with me, and I wasn’t sure you’d let me go alone.”

He thrusts his hands in his pockets. “I hated that you left my protection…and I didn’t think you were coming back.”

The quiet words sting, but he’s not wrong. Every mile back to town, I thought about turning around and going home. “It’s easier on my own. Not just for me, but for you and your team too. Doing this together, it’s bound to be…”

“Complicated,” he says, completing the sentence.

“I know. I prefer order. Things packed neatly in boxes and tied with a bow. But from the moment we met, my life hasn’t conformed to my normal rules.

You don’t fit in any box. Instead, you’re an enticing enigma who makes me question things I’ve known my whole life.

” He frowns, as if he finds the thought upsetting.

“Maybe it would be best if we part ways.”

The words slam into me, and my heart literally stops in my chest, making me forget to breathe.

I stare down at my feet instead of at him and force myself to look at this objectively.

He’s right. I inhale sharply. Seriously.

What am I doing? Jamison works for the fucking council.

The absolute worst choice for someone who needs to stay off their radar.

And if they knew he was working with a representative of the gods, he would lose everything.

“I agree,” I reply in a near whisper, lifting my head to stare at him. I wait for him to say something, but when he doesn’t, I know it’s for the best.

Numb, I walk away. My feet carry me mindlessly down the block, but when I reach the corner, I stop, unsure of where I should go. The condo isn’t safe. The farmhouse is too far away. That only leaves the gym. I peer down the street and see the familiar sign shining like a beacon.

I lift a foot, then put it down. I glance at the curb.

There’s nothing stopping me from stepping off.

Yet, I stand here completely frozen. Bright streaks light up the sky.

Sunrise. A new day. The sun’s rays hit me, and I raise my face, expecting to feel their warmth.

Instead, all I feel is him watching me. The same prickling awareness I feel whenever I’m around him. Why is he still here? I turn around.

Fists clenched, he stands in the middle of the sidewalk, staring at me. His aristocratic good looks are carved in stone, but his fierce blue eyes are full of storm and magic.

As if they’re on autopilot, my feet start moving and not once do they falter. Step after step, I walk until I’m standing directly in front of him, searching his face.

“Do you really want me to go?”

A muscle tics in his jaw. “It’s not up to me.” The words are dragged out of him, as if he hates the very flavor of them.

Ahh. He’s giving me a choice. And the decision is easier to make than I expect it to be.

It comes down to one overriding thought.

“I want to stay.” As I say the words, the enormity of this moment hits, and it scares the hell out of me.

I’m choosing not to be alone. I’m choosing not to do this on my own.

I’m choosing to stay with them. Whatever that means.

He takes a deep breath and steps closer. “I want you to stay.” Gravel coats his voice as if he has a hard time saying them too.

Panic flares. “This doesn’t mean I’ll share all my secrets,” I warn him. “And I make no promises for the future.” Two statements that sound simple but have caused havoc in all my relationships.

He tilts his head to the side and gives me a long look of consideration. “Understood, but if you can’t tell me the truth, don’t lie.” His eyes narrow. “And don’t betray us or the gods themselves won’t be able to save you.”

Not exactly true, but the promise in his eyes tells me he would be a ruthless enemy.

“As to the other…” He shrugs. “Not all of us are immortal. Let the future take care of itself.” As a mage, he must feel the press of time compared to the others, but he shrugs it off as if it has no bearing on the way he lives his life.

I can live with those rules. Raising up on my toes, I place my lips against his in a sensuous, but brief kiss. “Deal.” His breath mingles with mine, and I hover there, waiting for his next move.

His eyes darken, and his hand lifts and slides around the back of my neck.

Head tilting, his lips claim mine, deepening the kiss, eliminating the spaces between us and taking control until I’m surrounded by him.

This is the kiss I’ve been waiting for all my lonely life.

A statement of intent with a tinge of possessiveness.

From the moment we met, I’ve been attracted to this man and the danger he represents, but I never thought he would be more than a passing fling until now.

This kiss pulls at the emotions I keep hidden from the world.

The wants and needs I tell myself I can’t have and certainly don’t deserve.

I pull away and lean back, needing to see what’s in his eyes.

Blue eyes stare down at me, the earlier storm of anger and resistance replaced with desire and acceptance. I wonder if he sees the same in my eyes.

Satisfaction crosses his face, but all he does is motion to the building. “Let’s find the others. We have a lot of planning to do.”

When I move forward, his hand is at my back, reassuring and steady.

Opening the door to a small apartment, we find the rest of his team waiting for us.

Hawthorne’s standing by the balcony door, staring out at the city.

Mathias is on the computer, but I see his hands pause, telling me he’s aware of our every move. Gatlin slows his pacing.

All of them turn to face us, their gazes locked on us. A spark flares in Hawthorne’s eyes. Gatlin’s mouth is a flat line of anger. Mathias’ expression is completely blank.

I stiffen, unsure if I’m the cause.

After a second, Gatlin’s fury spills over. “They sent a second team to her condo. Trashed it. As far as we can tell, they didn’t find anything.” Fists clenched, he stands there waiting to take on the world.

I shrug. I knew they’d come for their comrades. Instead of getting upset, I reach out and pat Gatlin on the arm. “Of course, they didn’t. I wouldn’t leave anything of value in there. It’s a place to sleep.”

Jamison frowns. “That’s odd. I set up a magical alert, but it never pinged me.”

Gatlin goes rigid. “That is fucking odd.”

“Only another mage could dismantle my spell,” Jamison spits out, his own anger rising at the thought. “Who, though? One of my father’s lackeys?”

“It doesn’t matter,” I tell them. “Their attention will soon turn from the condo to us.”

All four of them turn to me, and I hold up the small key. “Letz gave me two keys that night. The ancient key I bought from him and this one.”

“What does it unlock?” Jamison asks, looking closer at it. “Is it a house key?”

Mathias holds out his hand. “May I?”

“So formal,” I murmur, teasing him a little. “Here.”

Lightly running his thumb over the dips and valleys, I can practically see the wheels turning in his brain. “It’s thinner than a house key. Safety deposit box?”

“Correct,” I reply. He holds the key out, and I take it. “Ever hear of C. Hoare?”

Only Jamison nods. “C. Hoare & Co is one of the oldest private banks in England.”

“You got it. I’ve banked with them myself in the past. Very discreet,” I confirm. “Letz passed along the key and box number. He also gave me a password. Further instructions are in the box.”

This is where it gets a bit tricky. I want to share the parts of me that I can without revealing the full truth.

“Letz belonged to a society of supernaturals whose sole purpose was to find cursed objects and remove the danger from them. To protect both supes and humans.” I bite the inside of my cheek for a second, wondering how to tell them.

“I’ve been doing similar work for a long time.

Apparently, they’ve been searching for me.

To join them, I think. He made me promise to find them because they have the answers to some of our questions. ” I watch their reaction.

Hawthorne’s face fills with interest. “A secret society that neutralizes dangerous artifacts?” When I nod, he lifts a shoulder. “I’ve never heard a whisper. How long have they been around?”

“It started with Letz and two others about a thousand years ago,” I inform him, telling them the same story Letz told me, but without my part in it.

“And how long have you been doing this same work?” Hawthorne asks, a speculative look in his eyes.

“A lot longer,” I reply, but hold up a hand when he opens his mouth. “My age is not something I share with anyone.” It might be too easy to connect the dots, especially for someone with his knowledge of history.

He chuckles, but if anything, the interest in his eyes flares brighter. “So, are we going to London?”

Gatlin’s expression becomes fierce. “Does that mean I have to call Maverick again?”

Jamison snorts. “Hell no. There’s no need to hide our actions from the council. We’re returning to London to file our weekly report.” He turns to me. “With a secret passenger, of course.”