Page 23 of Wooing the Wiccan (Elf Magic #1)

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Raeulfr

TWO WEEKS LATER

The buzz of my phone against the table interrupts the report the director of finance is giving. Around the table, eyes turn toward me, and I grimace apologetically and gesture for her to continue while I grab my phone.

My intention is to put it into my pocket until the meeting is done—if it’s urgent, people know to call Dáithí or Eoin next—but the name on the screen catches my attention.

Jared texted me.

I almost drop the phone in my haste to unlock it, and my hands are shaking slightly as I tap to open the message.

It’s been two weeks since I heard from him, two weeks of me trying to respect his space and hoping that eventually, he won’t want me to do that anymore.

Two weeks of forcing myself not to ask Sam or anyone at CSG if they’re in contact with him and how he’s doing.

Two weeks of giving Dáithí hopeful glances every time I see him, just in case Jared’s reached out to him for something—and getting Dáithí’s regretful expression in return.

But now he’s texted me. That’s good. It has to be good, right? He wouldn’t text me to say he wanted nothing to do with me, would he?

He might. Jared’s the kind of person who believes in closure. I told him I’d wait for him, and he would never be able to live with himself if he decided it was over and left me waiting forever.

Mustering my courage, I glance at the message.

Jared:

Could we meet up to talk? At your convenience.

Those last three words tease a smile from me. They’re so Jared . I wonder if I’ll get the chance to show him that my convenience is whenever he wants.

Raeulfr:

Yes. Tonight? Anywhere you want.

His reply comes quickly enough that his phone must have been still in his hand, and I glance at the time. His students are on their lunch break.

Jared:

Your place?

That feels like a test, but I no longer have anything to hide from him.

Raeulfr:

Yes.

I follow it up with the address.

Jared:

I’ll be there at seven thirty.

There are a million things I want to say, but I merely send an acknowledgment of the time, then slip my phone into my pocket, forcing myself to look like I’m listening to the state of the DEA’s finances. They’re excellent, which is just as well, since I’m not actually listening at all.

He wants to talk. That’s good… or maybe not. Maybe this is part of his “give people closure” mentality. He has excellent manners, so maybe he doesn’t want to officially break up with me via text message. Instead, he’ll come to my home and smash my heart there.

“I knew you weren’t paying attention!”

The voice cuts through the cycle of negative thoughts and faint hope cycling through my head, and a second later, Brandt’s body lands in the chair beside mine. Startled, I glance around the now-empty room.

“Where did everyone go?”

“The meeting’s over,” Brandt says dryly. “Don’t worry, you made some suitable comments to wrap things up. I don’t think anyone else noticed you were sleepwalking through them.”

“I noticed,” Ari mutters from behind us. I twist around to stare at him.

“What are you doing here?” I don’t need security in a meeting here at the DEA, surrounded only by elves and dragons who’ve been vetted at the highest level, aka by Steffen, the paranoid conspiracy theorist.

“Your heart rate spiked about half an hour ago. Eoin sent me, just in case.”

My… what? I narrow my eyes. “You monitor my heart rate?” How did I not know that?

Ari shrugs. “Of course. It’s a small spell—you’ve been wearing it for thousands of years. A spike in heart rate can be an indicator of fear, so it works as a panic button of sorts.”

Brandt’s cackling with laughter, but he shouldn’t be. If my security thought of this, it’s guaranteed that Steffen did too. To Ari, I say, “Increased heart rate can mean a lot of things besides fear.” The last time my heartbeat sped up, Jared and I wouldn’t have appreciated an interruption.

Nodding, Ari says, “That’s why context matters. There’s no reason for your heart rate to go up in the quarterly finance review meeting, so here I am.”

He makes it sounds very logical and reasonable, but Eoin and I are going to have a very blunt conversation about this—and the fact that I didn’t know.

That’s embarrassing. I’ve been wearing someone else’s spell all this time and didn’t even notice.

To be fair, it would have been cast by an expert with the intent of remaining hidden, but still.

“Well, you can report back to Eoin that I’m fine.” I don’t bother to hide how disgruntled I am, but that doesn’t faze him.

“I already did, the moment I saw you. I’ve been hanging around because I’m curious to know what got your heart racing in a finance meeting. The part I walked in on was so boring, we could have used it as a weapon against insomnia.”

That makes Brandt laugh again. “We really could. Do you remember the time?—”

“Yes.” I cut him off, but I’m smirking. “Tadhg was sleeping with his eyes open,” I explain to Ari. “It was hard to tell, because everyone had the same glazed look in their eyes, but then he started snoring. These finance meetings get wild sometimes.”

“Wild?” My bodyguard shakes his head. “We need to get you la—” His eyes widen, and he snaps his mouth shut so hard, there’s an audible click. “I mean… Sir…”

Aaaaand I’m right back in the cycle of negative thoughts. I was getting laid, which is what Ari was about to suggest, and now I’m not.

“So,” Brandt says, breaking the awkward silence, “what was so fascinating on your phone? You zoned out right after it buzzed.”

“Jared.” My tone is blank. “Jared messaged me.”

“That’s great!” Brandt’s face lights up, and then caution creeps through his expression as he studies me. “Isn’t it?”

“He didn’t end things, did he?” Ari demands hotly. “Of all the xenophobic?—”

“He’s coming over tonight to talk.”

They exchange a glance. “That’s a good thing, Raeulfr,” Brandt encourages. “He hasn’t just blown you off.”

I stare glumly at the tabletop. “Maybe. He could be too polite to do it over the phone.”

“Do people do that?” Brandt turns to Ari.

“I’ve been with Percy for years, and we didn’t really do the dating thing.

” I snort, because that’s an understatement.

He went from zero to committed with Percy in two days, no date necessary.

He ignores me and continues, “If couples fight and then don’t talk for two weeks, do they meet up to end things? Or is it just a given?”

“A given?” My heart starts to race. “What if he thinks we’re already broken up and tonight he’s just bringing my books back?”

“You lent him books? That really is love,” Brandt mutters.

Ari holds out his hand. “Show me the messages. Did he say he was bringing your stuff?”

I hand over my phone. Technically, the security team already has access to everything on it, anyway. “No, but?—”

“Are you overthinking?” Brandt’s delighted grin makes me regret millennia of friendship. “You are, aren’t you? I don’t want to mock your pain, but this is amazing. I’ve waited so very long to see you this wrapped up in another person again.”

Percy would understand if I slapped his man. “You might be about to see me recovering from heartbreak again.” Those dark years after I lost ásta weren’t fun for anyone around me.

He says nothing, but the quality of his silence has me looking up. There’s a soft smile on his face. “If you feel for him what you felt before, I can’t believe that he doesn’t return the sentiment. You love thoroughly and completely. He won’t give that up easily.”

I swallow. Fucking dragons. Just when you’re ready to wash your hands of the lot of them, they show you what wisdom truly is.

“He’s right,” Ari breaks in. “These messages all look like a good thing to me. He’s still pissy, maybe, but I guess he’s allowed to be.”

Hope takes a stronger foothold on my shifting emotions. “So you think he wants to make up? Should I grovel?”

Ari looks a little ill at the thought. “The king of the elves doesn’t grovel. I’m not going to tell Eoin you said that.”

“You might have to grovel,” Brandt tells me, and Ari groans. “What? Trust me, Ari, when it comes to keeping their partners happy, leaders grovel. Groveling when you’ve done something wrong is a vital part of a healthy relationship.”

I point at my dragon friend. “What he said.”

“I don’t think he’ll make you grovel, anyway,” Ari insists.

“I might not have spoken directly to him, but I spent enough time overhearing what he’s said to know him pretty well.

Now that he’s accepted everything, he probably thinks it’s noble that you kept the secret from him.

” He sounds like he’s not sure if that’s admirable or worthy of scorn.

“I can only hope.”

After a frenzy of cleaning spells and pillow plumping—because the throw pillows on the sofa would not look right no matter what I did—I look around my condo and wonder if Jared will like it.

“Are you done yet?” Eoin asks. He’s leaning against the doorframe to the butler’s suite, where he’s promised to stay while Jared’s here.

Apparently my security team was all set to hold a thumb wrestling tournament to decide who got tonight’s duty, until I reminded them that it wasn’t the best time for Jared to meet anyone new.

Which left Eoin as the only possible candidate. He wasn’t happy about it.

“I don’t know. Maybe?—”

The peal of the doorbell cuts me off. I told the doorman that I was expecting a guest and to send him right up, so Jared is literally standing only a few yards away right now. I should have told the doorman to buzz when he was on his way up and given myself some warning.

“Are you going to get that, or leave hi?—”

I’m at the door before Eoin can finish. One deep breath, and I open it.

Jared’s face is just as beautiful now as it was two weeks ago—maybe more, since it’s not angry or disgusted. His tentative expression echoes how I feel.

“Hi,” I manage. “Um. It’s good to see you.”

His lips curve slightly in a tiny smile. “Yeah. You look… good. Um. I mean?—”

“You look good too. Really good.”

We stare at each other some more.

“As scintillating as this conversation is, I can’t disappear until Raeulfr is inside the wards with the door closed, so could you maybe make that happen?”

I close my eyes. Eoin’s timing leaves much to be desired.

To my surprise, when I peek at Jared’s face, he’s smiling. He catches my gaze and rolls his eyes, then gestures for me to step back. “Come on. Invite me in so we can ditch him.”

Hope roars to life more strongly than I’ve felt in weeks. That definitely doesn’t sound like he’s planning to end things face-to-face.

I move out of the doorway. “Please come in and be welcome.” The words are a trigger for the wards that he’s an invited guest, and they take his measure as he crosses the threshold—with a slight shiver.

“Whoa. What— Was that your wards? The ones at CSG don’t feel like that.” He turns back to study the doorway, squinting. “Hey, I can see these… kind of.”

I close the door, which seals the wards and “locks” the condo much more thoroughly than any mechanical lock could. “The ones at CSG were woven by sorcerers,” I explain. “I cast these myself.” I hesitate. “Has anyone explained the difference between what sorcerers and elves do—and humans?”

He shrugs, his gaze now flitting around the spacious living room. “A little. I know that sorcerers draw their power from within themselves, and humans borrow from existential magic. That’s why I can’t really see sorcerer weaves the way I see human magic.”

“What elves do is a combination of the two. We draw from within and borrow from existence.” I haven’t moved away from the door yet.

Jared turns to look at me. “Is that why I could see parts of your spellwork, but not all?”

“Yes. I lied about that too, all those times I implied that my experience somehow made the craft harder to see.”

He sighs, and toes out of his shoes, bending to line them up neatly against the wall. “Yeah, you did. But it’s not like you could have said, ‘You can’t see my whole spell because I’m an elf and use different magic.’”

The words, though not combative, drop between us like boulders from a trebuchet.

“Well, I think you’ve both got this from here,” Eoin announces. “You know where to find me if you need anything, sir.” He beats a hasty retreat into the butler’s suite and closes the door firmly behind him.

Leaving me to face my future… whatever it may be.