Arcane Entanglement (The Mage and His Brute #1)

Chapter 8

Evander and Ginny stared after their disappearing figures.

“What was that about?” Ginny muttered.

Evander swallowed, his skin still hot where Miss Miller had touched him. He had a feeling he knew the magic he’d just felt in the young woman’s touch and glimpsed in her eyes.

“Evander?”

Ginny’s voice made him flinch. She was studying him with a troubled expression. “You’ve gone as white as a ghost.”

Evander registered the curious stares they were drawing from the nearby footmen and the few couples in the foyer.

“I’m alright,” he murmured. “We should leave.”

Ginny shot furtive glances his way as they navigated the front steps of Ashbrooke House. They were inside their carriage and out of St. James's Square in minutes.

“All in all, that was quite a strange evening,” Ginny said after a while. She dropped her head against the padded back of the carriage seat and closed her eyes.

Evander dragged his gaze from the street lights outside. Piccadilly was quieter than it had been earlier that evening, the only people about late night revellers emerging from clubs and hotels.

“Did you have a satisfactory meeting with Lord Fairfax?”

“I did.” Ginny opened her eyes and pinned him with a knowing stare. “Did your talk with Lord Ashbrooke confirm your speculations?”

Evander nodded grimly.

“Those old coots.” Ginny furrowed her brow. “Do they not realise what kind of godawful misfortunes their actions might engender?”

The carriage approached Hyde Park Corner, the clip-clop of the horses’ hooves and the gentle rattle of the wheels the only sounds in the still night.

“You know as well as I do that they think only of themselves.” Evander’s face tightened. “I won’t let that petition go through. Even if I have to convince Her Majesty?—”

A horrid stench filled his nostrils at the same time a bitter taste danced across his tongue, freezing his words. There was motion out of the corner of his eye.

Shadows bolted from beneath some trees on the left side of the road.

Instinct had Evander reaching for Ginny and yanking her onto his lap. Her shocked gasp was drowned out by the noise of something large smashing violently into her side of the carriage.

The only reason the door didn’t break was because of the wards protecting the vehicle. They could not however stop the carriage from being physically moved.

The alarmed neighs of the horses and the startled shouts of the coachman and footman reached Evander as they were shoved across the street, wheels scraping across granite cobbles in a shower of sparks.

His eyes rounded in horror where he had his arms wrapped tightly around Ginny and a leg braced against the opposite seat.

They were headed straight for a ditch.

Evander’s stomach plummeted when the right wheel dropped into the muddy trench, jolting them violently. He clenched his jaw, pressed a hand to the roof, and channelled wind magic through wood and metal.

A storm detonated at the side of the carriage as it began to tilt precariously, drawing a gargled scream from young Samuel in the box seat.

There was a shocking moment of stillness, as if the whole world was holding its breath. Ginny swore colourfully when the carriage slammed back down on the road with a torturous creak, the bouncing motion jostling them all over again.

Glass exploded next to Evander, peppering him and Ginny in glittering shards. A massive arm reached through the carriage window, snatched him by the front of his shirt, and dragged him out before he could react.

“Evander!” Ginny screamed. She grappled at his clothes in vain.

Evander got a glimpse of a dispassionate face as he was hoisted into the air. He clutched the wrist of his attacker and kicked out viciously when the latter started squeezing his windpipe.

He might as well have struck an iron wall for all the difference it made.

Air rasped through Evander’s throat as he got his first look at his assailant.

The man who’d attacked the carriage was a colossus.

Bar throttling Evander, he stood deathly still, his features devoid of emotion.

What the devil is a Brute doing here?!

Ginny’s shout reached him. “Use your magic, dammit!”

Evander scowled. Coldness flooded his veins.

Frost formed on the giant’s fingers. He flung Evander across the street.

A sky full of stars whirled across Evander’s vision.

He barely had time to cover his head with his arms before he landed hard on his side and rolled, the protective charms built into his cravat pin and cufflinks activating to minimise injury. The impact knocked the breath out of him despite the buffer of wind magic he’d manifested at the penultimate moment to cushion his fall.

“Your Grace!” Graham shouted, alarmed.

Evander looked up from where he’d come to rest on his front, knuckles scraped and heart racing. The coachman was climbing down the box seat, Samuel’s petrified face round and pale behind him.

Evander’s eyes widened.

The Brute was accompanied by three cloaked, masked figures who stank of dark magic. Evander’s stomach curdled when one of them turned towards Graham, shadows coalescing around his fingers.

No!

He scrambled to his feet, fear and fury causing a violent burst of ice magic to fill his body on a rush of power. Evander’s breath fogged in front of his face as he drew his arm back and hurled the weapon that had come to life in his hand with all his might.

The icicle impaled the dark mage’s shoulder just as the crack of a firearm shattered the night. The man jerked twice. Light flashed around the projectile that had smashed into his left flank and latched onto him with spider-like legs.

A cry left the mage’s throat as he was enveloped in dazzling static. His entire body went rigid before he convulsed and dropped to the ground, muscles spasming and back contorting uncontrollably.

The magic sparking across his clothes faded as he lost consciousness.

Everyone’s gaze shifted to the smoking pistol in Ginny’s right hand.

She’d kicked the carriage door open and was leaning out of the vehicle, her arm steady and a scowl darkening her pretty face as she aimed her enchanted derringer.

A mage lunged for her, a nasty blade in hand.

Ginny jerked out of the way, grabbed the top of the door frame, and shoved herself out of the vehicle. Her stockinged leg moved in a graceful arc as she twisted and back kicked the man in the face with her left foot.

Bone crunched under the heel of her delicate silver slipper.

The mage staggered sideways on a colourful curse, blood spurting from his broken nose. Ginny landed lightly in front of him, took hold of his shoulders, and kneed him violently in the groin.

Samuel sucked in air, horrified delight dawning on his young face.

The mage’s eyes crossed.

“That’s what you get for making me ruin this dress, you swine!” Ginny hissed as he groaned and slumped to the ground before her. She knocked him out with a blow from the handle of her pistol.

Dark magic bloomed around the third mage’s fingers.

Graham moved to intercept him as he raised his hand towards Ginny.

“Stay back!” Evander barked.

The coachman froze.

The mage stiffened when he sensed Evander’s wind magic. He tried to avoid the attack.

“Too late,” Evander growled.

The mage gasped as an invisible lasso wrapped around his throat. He clutched at bands of nothingness, his fingers sinking impotently through tightening loops of wind magic. His toe caps scraped the cobbles as he rose from the ground.

Evander moved his hand and sent him flying into a tree fifteen feet away.