Arcane Entanglement (The Mage and His Brute #1)

Chapter 13

At six foot four, the Brute who had drawn his attention was slightly shorter than his opponent, with broad shoulders and a muscular build toned to perfection. His cropped hair and beard were dark and his ebony eyes burned with an animal-like intensity in a chiselled face currently set in a grim expression of determination. Blue ink covered his chest, back, and arms in fascinating swirls, the patterns tracing his sun-kissed skin reminiscent of the motifs belonging to the indigenous tribes inhabiting remote islands in the Pacific.

Evander swallowed. The Brute was mesmerising.

Judging from the delicious tension filtering through his groin, his body very much liked the raw masculinity on display.

“What makes you think that’s Stonewall and not the other man?”

Ginny gave him an incredulous look. “Are you serious?” She indicated the tattooed Brute like Evander was an idiot. “Everyone’s eyes are on him. And it’s plain to see why. His presence is simply?—”

“—magnetic,” Evander mumbled.

Ginny stared at him. She was distracted by the noise swelling around them.

The fight was nearing its inevitable end.

Viggo Stonewall ended it in three blisteringly quick moves, his gloved fists striking his opponent with enough force to make the air tremble. The other Brute fell on his back, the impact sending a tremor through the ground.

The crowd went mad.

“ Viggo! Viggo! Viggo! ” they chanted, their claps echoing their shouts.

Instead of strutting around the ring, the Brute squatted and said something to the stunned man on the floor. The latter nodded weakly before taking his hand, a smile dawning on his bloodied face.

The Brute pulled the defeated man to his feet and tugged him in a quick bear hug. They climbed out of the colosseum and disappeared towards the back of the guild.

“And what have we here?” someone said behind Evander and Ginny.

They turned.

A lean, wiry man with red hair, sea-green eyes, and a cocky grin that spelled trouble was watching them curiously over his crossed arms where he sat straddling the back of a chair.

“Mr. Callaghan,” Ginny greeted politely.

The man’s grin widened. “You’re hurting my feelings, Lady Hartley.”

He rose, came over, and took Ginny’s gloved hand. His smile turned seductive as he leaned down and pressed a gallant kiss to her knuckles, the hooded look he gave her from beneath his lashes full of sensuous Irish charm.

“I told you to call me Finn the last time we— ow! Ow! Ow! ”

Ginny had grabbed his hand and was bending it backward.

The low murmurs around them told Evander they were drawing unwanted attention.

“Hmm, Ginny—” he started.

She ignored him, her voice low and hard as she fixed the redhead with a cutting stare. “Mr. Callaghan, our transactions have and always will be purely business. Please stop insinuating otherwise.”

“I was just jest—” Finn started, chagrined.

“What’s going on, Razor?”

A dark man with intelligent sable eyes was approaching from the left. His quiet, watchful demeanour was reminiscent of a panther, while his sinewy build suggested he was a seasoned street fighter.

Evander could tell he was the more dangerous of the pair.

Ginny released Finn’s wrist.

The Irishman gave her a wounded look before addressing the newcomer.

“Nothing special, Sly. I was just greeting the lady, is all.”

The man frowned at his associate before studying Ginny and Evander.

“I’ve not seen you before.” Ginny was studying the stranger with a glint in her eye that made Evander uneasy.

If the man registered her burgeoning interest, he did not show it. “Solomon Barden at your service. How may we be of assistance?”

Evander traded a vigilant look with Ginny. He stepped forward.

“I would like to request a meeting with Mr. Stonewall.”

A wary stillness came over the two men.

Solomon’s gaze burned into Evander’s face, like he could see behind his facade. He cut his eyes to Ginny.

“Lady Hartley, are you aware that you’re breaking the rules of the guild by bringing someone who hasn’t been vetted here?” he said thinly. “It’s clear this man is an aristocrat.”

Ginny met Solomon’s irritated glare unflinchingly. “It’s an emergency.”

“Your employer is going to want to hear this,” Evander added quietly.

Solomon observed them for a moment longer before cocking his head, a trace of arrogance flitting across his handsome face.

“And whom shall I say wants to meet him?”

Ginny’s shoulders knotted a fraction.

This was the part they’d been uncertain about.

Even though he had never had any dealings with Nightshade in either a personal or business capacity, Evander’s identity as a Special Arcane Investigator was bound to be a sore point for members of the guild. After all, thralls and slum dwellers distrusted the Met and viewed most police officers as their enemy.

He could hardly blame them.

Recent changes in the laws of the empire may have meant no one could throw a thrall in lockup without just cause anymore, but the damage done by centuries of violent oppression and forced servitude could not be unravelled in a matter of years.

Evander took a shallow breath.

Magic swirled inside his chest, warming his blood and filling his body with a subtle flow of power. He was fairly confident he and Ginny could take on the men in the room. He wasn’t sure if they could do that and deal with the two Brutes present on the premises at the same time.

Ah, well. In for a penny, in for a pound.

“Tell Mr. Stonewall Evander Ravenwood is here to see him.”

The silence that spread out from where they stood was so sudden and deep Evander could have heard a pin drop. A muscle jumped in Ginny’s cheek when she registered the immediate hostility on Finn and Solomon’s faces.

Finn’s eyes shrank to slits.

“You brought the Ice Mage here?!” he spat at Ginny.

He made to lunge for her.

“Razor, wait—!” Solomon started.

The soft click of the derringer sounded like a bomb in the hush.

Finn stared unblinkingly into the barrel of Ginny’s pistol, feet rooted to the floor.

“Stand down,” Evander warned, his cane in hand where he’d flicked it out from his sleeve. His gaze swept the room and the mass of angry faces turning towards them. He raised his voice. “We did not come here to fight.”

“What’s all this ruckus?”

Evander looked around.

A burly man in his late fifties with greying hair and a weathered face was crossing the chamber towards them. His sharp gaze skimmed Ginny and the gun.

“How about you put that down, miss? Nothing is going to happen to you.” He stopped and lowered his brows at Solomon and Finn. “Am I right?”

Solomon and Finn traded a morose look.

“Yes, sir,” they muttered.

Ginny hesitated before lowering the derringer. She grimaced. “What are you, their keeper?”

“No,” the man grunted. “I just happen to have known them since they were snot-nosed little brats.” He offered his hand to Ginny and Evander. “Jack Stonewall. I own Ironclad Shipping .”

Surprise jolted Evander as he shook the older man’s strong, rough fingers. “You are related to Viggo Stonewall?”

“I am his uncle.” Jack eyed the sea of onlookers. “I suggest everyone get back to their own business,” he said sharply. “Ain’t nothing like sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong to lose it.”

“We’re an information guild, sir,” someone said sullenly. “Sticking our nose where it doesn’t belong is our calling card.”

Jack’s frown deepened. The crowd dispersed.

Evander slowly relaxed. Viggo’s uncle didn’t look like the kind of man who’d stand by and let the guild members do whatever they wanted to him and Ginny.

“Care to explain why my two boys here looked like they wanted to tear your heart out a moment ago?” Jack asked Evander lightly.

Finn jutted his chin out.

“This posh nob says he’s Evander Ravenwood,” he said in a peeved tone.

Jack stiffened. Surprise rounded his eyes for a fleeting moment before his face turned carefully blank.

“You’re Duke Ravenwood? The Ice Mage?”

Finn’s jaw dropped. “Wait. The toff is a Duke to boot?!” he squeaked.

Solomon hushed him as ears pricked around them.

“Look, the faster he sees your nephew, the faster we’ll be out of your hair,” Ginny told Jack.

The older man studied them broodingly. “Why do you wish to see Viggo?”

“I have some information he will want to hear.” Evander faltered. “If I’m being completely honest, I need his help.”

The three men almost did a double take at that.

Jack appraised Evander with fresh eyes.

“You are different from the rumours, your Grace,” he finally murmured.

“In what way?” Evander said carefully.

“You are not the unfeeling monster the gossip seems to suggest you are.” Jack’s expression turned wry. “One thing is true though.”

Evander met his steady gaze warily. “And that is?”

“They did not exaggerate your beauty.”

Evander’s mouth parted on a flummoxed, “Oh.”

Finn made gagging noises.

“And you, Lady Hartley, are as ravishing as Finn raved you were,” Jack said with a gallant half bow.

“Oh, please.” A flirtatious smile danced on Ginny’s lips.

Jack offered his arm to her. “Shall we? Viggo’s office is this way.”

Evander followed alongside Solomon and Finn as they made for the direction in which Viggo had disappeared.

“How come Jack gets a smile and I get my wrist twisted?” Finn complained to Solomon in a low voice.

“It’s all in the delivery.” Solomon’s tone hardened. “By the way, who is manning the main door tonight?”

“George is.”

“Well, George deserves a kick in the bollocks for letting these two in with weapons,” Solomon said thinly.

“I wouldn’t blame George,” Evander said. “And his balls are already bruised. Before you ask, it wasn’t me.”

Finn’s expression turned from shocked to dreamy as he gazed at Ginny.

“Is it wrong that I find that terribly attractive?” he mumbled.

“If you want your balls crushed that badly, I’ll do it for you,” Solomon muttered.

Finn shuddered. “No, thanks. My dick will shrivel up and die if you so much as look its way.”