The Black Witch. Laurie Forest

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СКАЧАТЬ well...” he agrees, chuckling. He pulls away and offers me his arm. I thread my arm through his, part of me feeling oddly reckless, not wanting to leave, wanting to stay here alone with him, to feel the fire of his kiss light up the room.

      When we reach the foyer, a group of young soldiers and military apprentices, Sylus amongst them, shout boisterously to Lukas. I look past them to see my brother Rafe approaching at a brisk pace, his eyes darting back and forth between Lukas and myself.

      “Hey, Ren,” he greets me warmly.

      I let go of Lukas’s arm and give my brother an affectionate hug.

      “Where’s Trystan?” I ask, overjoyed to be with my brother again, but self-consciously aware of Lukas by my side.

      “Trystan is staying with Gareth and his family,” Rafe tells me, smiling. “You know how much he loves large social gatherings.”

      I laugh at this. “Where’s the harem that Trystan says you’re usually trailed by?” I tease.

      He grins mischievously. “I just got here.” Rafe turns to Lukas, his smile becoming tight—less a friendly gesture, more a tiger bearing its teeth. “Giving my sister a tour, were you?”

      “Something like that,” Lukas replies evenly.

      Although Rafe is still smiling, his right arm clenches, his hand closing into a fist.

      “How’s that bow arm of yours, Rafe?” Lukas asks pleasantly.

      “Deadly accurate as ever, Lukas.”

      Lukas turns to me, ignoring the sudden tension in the air. “I keep trying to get your brother to apprentice with the military. He could be very successful. Best tracker, best hunter...best Gardnerian archer I’ve ever seen. He’s a dangerous man, your brother.”

      “Oh, now, I’m not all that dangerous, Lukas,” Rafe says, still smiling. “Not unless someone were to bother my little sister, that is.”

      Lukas laughs at this. “I seriously doubt that she needs your protection, Rafe.”

      Rafe’s eyes flicker toward me questioningly before lighting again on Lukas.

      One of the soldiers calls out for Lukas to join them.

      “I’ll let you two catch up with each other,” Lukas says. He takes my hand and leans to kiss the back of it, a smile on his lips. His touch sends a delicious chill down my spine and I struggle to maintain my composure. “Elloren, it’s been a pleasure meeting you,” he says, his eyes locked on mine. He straightens and turns to my brother. “Rafe,” he says as he tips his head to my brother in acknowledgment.

      “Lukas,” my brother replies coolly.

      We both watch as Lukas strides off in the direction of his fellow soldiers and makes his exit with them.

      Rafe turns to me, visibly relaxing. “I hear you were quite the star tonight.” His face takes on a look of mock suspicion. “Who are you, and what have you done with my shy, reserved sister?”

      “I’m her glamoured double,” I laugh.

      The foyer is now mostly empty, except for the two of us. It seems the party is dying down, the buzz of conversation emanating from the ballroom quieter, the music now absent.

      “Hey, Ren,” Rafe says, his voice uncharacteristically serious, “you know I wouldn’t tell you how to run your life, right?”

      I look up at him curiously, wondering what’s prompted this comment.

      He inhales deeply, as if wanting to choose his words carefully. “I know Aunt Vyvian wants you fasted, but...don’t jump into anything with Lukas Grey, all right?”

      I feel myself flushing and shrug evasively. “I’m not.”

      “I’ve known him a long time,” Rafe cautions me. “And I know you’re smart, but so is he. And he has more...experience in the world.”

      I purse my lips in embarrassed annoyance, wanting to ignore this.

      Rafe lets out a long sigh and rubs at the bridge of his nose. “Just be careful, all right?”

      “I will,” I promise edgily.

      Upon hearing this, Rafe seems to relax, and his usual easy expression returns. “All right, all right,” he says, holding up his hands in mock defeat. “This concludes the overprotective older brother part of the evening.”

      “Good,” I say with relief, attempting to bury his warning in the back of my mind. I notice a group of nice-looking girls hovering near the door to the ballroom, giggling and looking at Rafe.

      “Hey, Rafe,” I say, “have you ever met Aislinn Greer?”

      “Not formally.” He lifts one eyebrow in question.

      “I just met her a while ago. I should introduce the two of you.”

      He laughs. “You’re trying to set me up with her, aren’t you?”

      “Okay, I realize you don’t need much help with that.” I glance over at the knot of giggling girls. I suspect they’ll converge around Rafe like a flock of geese as soon as I’m done talking to him. “Aislinn seems...different. She’s smart...nice...”

      “I’ll tell you what,” he bargains, amused. “There’s a dance every Yule at University. You go with Gareth, and I’ll ask Aislinn Greer.”

      “I can’t,” I say hesitantly, not wanting to displease my older brother. “I’ve already agreed to go with Lukas.”

      “Elloren.” He reaches out to touch my arm, his voice once again serious. “I’m not kidding about Lukas Grey. Stay away from him. He’s incredibly powerful. You’re playing with fire there.”

      Maybe I want to play with fire.

      “Thanks for the warning,” I say, my tone completely and utterly noncommittal.

       CHAPTER THIRTEEN

      Wandfasting

      “I received some correspondence this morning,” my aunt informs me as we sit in her breakfast alcove.

      We’re surrounded on three sides by arching windows that overlook well-maintained gardens. A nearby display of blood-red roses pierces the gloomy, overcast day.

      I can barely make out the sound of silverware on the gilded porcelain as my aunt neatly cuts into the omelete and spiced fruit before her. Her half-eaten scone sits pristinely on an adjacent plate. Everything she does—calligraphy, eating, dressing—is always so tidy. It’s easy to feel disheveled and bumbling next to her constant perfection. I glance down at my own half-eaten scone, a circle of fine crumbs orbiting the plate.

      “Correspondence from whom?” I wonder as I try to clean up my stray crumbs with the tip of my finger.

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