Page 42 of Grand Romantic Delusions and the Madness of Mirth, Part Two
Light suddenly blazes around the edges of the main doors, erupting as sharp, bright beams that shred the thick velvet curtains covering the walls to either side.
The previously sealed heavy wooden doors drop forward.
The nearest toffs, previously trying to get the doors open between debilitating bouts of laughter, scream. A few mages throw up whatever shields they can muster as they bodily fling themselves out of the way.
Then Lord fucking Hereford stalks into the theater as if he owns the place.
So, a completely normal attitude for the earl.
Elias is flanked by Sully and Bolan. The earl has a bloody slash across his forehead, the wolf shifter’s clothing is torn and bloody, and the fabricator mage looks as though he’s just wandered off the pages of a fashion magazine. As always.
The Merton trio pivots to take in the new threat.
“Close your eyes,” Mirth murmurs to me, closing her own eyes and reaching to cover Kitty’s.
I close my eyes as I press Tommy’s face to my chest.
A bright light flashes through the room.
Many bodies drop — hard — to the ground.
I open my eyes.
Every single rich fuck is down, including the three Mertons.
Eli tugs impatiently on his shirt cuffs, striding down the central aisle toward the stage and looking absolutely livid. Sully and Bolan follow. The rock star grins, half-crazed. The blue-haired mage appears completely disinterested.
“I thought the Mertons’ shield mage was supposed to be one of the most powerful in the realm?” I murmur to Mirth.
She flashes me a grin. “It’s a light trick.
Harnessed by essence, yes, but it’s still pure light.
Focused properly, Elias can knock just about anyone out, for a couple of minutes at least. It doesn’t need to get through a shield, just screw with a target’s eyesight.
Well, more specifically the brain, through the eyes. ”
Eli reaches the miasma of Mirth’s power, which is still undulating over the edge of the stage. He hesitates. Just for a moment.
“That was perfect timing, my lord,” Mirth says in that measured tone. Her gaze is on Eli, but she doesn’t withdraw her power to allow him passage. The challenge is clear. “I was close to completely melting at least a dozen brains.”
Eli steps into Mirth’s unleashed energy, fists clenched at his sides. It’s the most emotional display I’ve ever seen from him — and I once completely pummeled him in the ring — as he climbs onto the stage. His light-blue gaze, pinned to Mirth, is still completely livid.
For a moment, I’m concerned that the earl has snapped under the stress of the situation. I worry I’m going to have to step between him and Mirth. Betraying his trust and potentially undermining his place in the bond group.
Mirth just grins at him. “Did you come to rescue us, my lord?”
He all but lunges to close the remaining space between them, sliding his hand around her neck and tugging her closer to slam his mouth over hers. It’s a possessive, scared-out-of-his-mind kiss.
Mirth sways into him, tilting her head to give him better access.
“Oh!” Kitty squeaks.
Startled, Eli pulls back from the kiss, glancing disconcertedly at the young girl tucked against my leg. Kitty stares, wide-eyed, right back at him.
Eli didn’t even notice her. Maybe he didn’t notice anyone but Mirth.
The earl clears his throat, visibly trying to rein himself in. Until he meets Mirth’s delighted gaze. “You will not do that again,” he commands.
Mirth just hums, perfectly content. Then she smiles over Eli’s shoulder. “Sully, love, Tommy is hurt.”
The pretty-boy mage jerks as if just waking up, then instantly moves for the boy in my arms.
I blink as well, realizing that Sully, Bolan, and I have all gotten caught up watching Eli kiss Mirth.
The fallen bodies beyond the stage begin to stir. Disconcerted moans and pained groans fill the theater.
“Can we move the boy, Sully?” Eli asks, scanning the immediate area. “The shortest way out is through the main doors, I believe.”
Mirth, the only one of us who entered the space from another direction, doesn’t suggest an alternative.
Sully presses a hand to Tommy’s forehead. The boy’s eyes flutter, and he relaxes in my arms. “Just quick pain relief,” Sully says. “It won’t last.”
“The Banksy!” Coda cries through Kitty’s phone speakers.
“The royal guard are on their way,” Eli says grimly.
“And pissed as fuck,” Bolan adds.
Mirth huffs quietly. “Language, please —”
Bolan lunges for Mirth, throwing her over his shoulder.
She shrieks indignantly. “This is not going to be a thing, Bolan!”
The wolf, laughing like a maniac, pivots, jumps off the stage, and dashes up the aisle, dodging the rich, morally bankrupt fucks slowly waking up from Eli’s incapacitating light show.
Kitty tugs at Eli’s sleeve. Sweetly, she says, “I know I’m a big girl, but could you hold my hand?”
Eli doesn’t hesitate to grab her hand. Then, after jumping off the stage himself, he carefully lifts the girl down. Weaving through the bodies littering the floor, the two of them follow the crazed wolf out of the theater.
I, with Tommy in my arms and Sully at my side, jog after them as best I can without jostling the injured boy in my arms. If not for my concern about the kids, I’m not certain I’d walk away so readily. These sick toff fucks don’t deserve to —
“Well, that was a blast!” Coda’s cackle echoes through the theater from the speaker of Kitty’s phone. “So much pretty vid of so many upstanding people.”
The awry tech is reading my mind.
No one is walking away from this unscathed. And I’m rabidly excited to witness whatever Mirth is going to do to the Mertons. With her promised single phone call.