Arcane Entanglement (The Mage and His Brute #1)

Chapter 26

Viggo’s eyes widened. “What do you mean?”

“There are people in London and the wider magic community who wish to see another War of Subjugation. One that will take away the rights of thralls, permanently this time. And I have every intention of stopping them.”

Viggo felt the blood drain from his face. He stared at where Evander held his hands in the tense silence that befell them, his pulse racing.

I always suspected there might be another war, but to hear him say it makes it all too painfully real.

Bloodied memories of the past flooded Viggo’s mind. He suppressed them firmly and looked at Evander.

“Is that why you chose to work for the Met?”

Evander’s shoulders visibly knotted at the question. “Why do you ask?”

“I’ve been wondering about it since I met you,” Viggo confessed. “Even more so after I realised you were an Archmage.”

It was Evander’s turn to fall quiet. His voice when he spoke was underscored by regret.

“The day my father died, I realised the foolish dreams I had always entertained about the future of this country and the fate of thralls would forever remain a fantasy unless I stepped out in society and started taking serious action.”

“Dreams?” Viggo repeated. “What kind of dreams?”

Evander met his gaze steadily.

“I want to set thralls on an equal footing with those who possess magic.”

Shock jolted Viggo. “What?” He blinked rapidly, his heart pounding erratically against his ribs. “But—how?!”

“It won’t happen overnight. The first thing is to stop the injustices perpetrated against the magicless community. The first War of Subjugation was triggered by a single terrible act of brutality, after all.” Evander furrowed his brow. “The recent tensions in the East End make me suspect someone, likely a group of nobles, is determined to repeat the mistake of the past.”

Viggo licked his lips. “So, by being an active officer in the Met, you hope to stop a similar incident?”

Evander did not take offence at his scepticism.

“Being in the Arcane Division means I can keep my finger on the pulse of the action.” He looked at the enchanted map on the wall. “And I know the areas where I need to intervene before things go too far.”

Viggo followed his gaze. Realisation dawned belatedly.

“Is that why you’re the one who mediated all those disputes between the Met and the non-magical community?” He stared at Evander, bewildered.

“The officers involved were not terribly pleased by my intervention.” Evander smiled faintly. “Being a Duke has its advantages.”

Viggo let this all sink in.

“But surely, that won’t be enough to bring about change for thralls.” He furrowed his brow, his mind spinning. “Even if you are successful at stopping another war, the providence of the magicless would remain the same.”

“That’s where people like me and Ginny come in.”

Confusion shot through Viggo all over again. “What does Lady Hartley have to do with any of this?”

Evander spoke of the work he, Ginny, and dozens of other nobles they’d brought to their side had been doing behind the scenes. Viggo grew positively dumbfounded as he enumerated the long list of philanthropic enterprises he, Ginny, and their associates had privately founded and supported over the last five years.

Employing thralls. Creating opportunities for them to rise out of the poverty their births had sentenced them to. Feeding them. Teaching them to understand the laws of the land and their rights. More importantly, providing them with education and healthcare and even a safe roof over their heads so they could thrive.

“The new hospital in Whitechapel? And the school in Spitalfields?” Viggo said hoarsely. “That was all you ?!”

“Yes. Like I mentioned before, change won’t come about overnight. It will take years for everyone to alter their way of thinking, including those without magic. We need to reform people’s attitudes from the ground up.”

Viggo swallowed heavily, still reeling from everything the mage had just revealed.

“What about the House of Lords and that petition?”

“Ah. Yes. The House of Lords.” Evander sighed heavily. “My second option beside joining the Met was to take a proactive role in politics and enact policies for the fair treatment of thralls from the very heart of government.” The mage grimaced. “Alas, that place is a nest of vipers that would have given me no end of headaches, so I decided to keep an eye out for the pro-subjugation faction from the fringes.”

Viggo recalled what Evander had said in Winterbourne’s office.

“By attending balls and functions?”

“Yes. It’s surprising how much you can learn at those parties. Ginny and I often find business partners who share our convictions there.”

“You and Lady Hartley seem very close,” Viggo grunted.

Evander studied his pinched expression for a bewildered moment before bursting out laughing.

“Are you jealous?!” he chortled once he got his breath back.

Viggo scowled. “What if I am?”

“Ginny and I aren’t like that.” Evander chuckled and wiped his eyes. “Besides, she correctly guessed my sexual preference within an hour of meeting me.”

Viggo appeared somewhat mollified by this. “Does that mean you’ve always been interested in men?”

“Yes.” Evander cocked his head curiously. “And you?”

“I’ve slept with a few women,” the Brute said with refreshing honesty. The smile he flashed at Evander made his stomach flutter. “But I don’t think I will have eyes for anyone else but a certain Archmage with blue eyes from now on.” He lifted Evander’s hand to his lips and kissed his knuckles, his hooded gaze gleaming.

Heat rose in Evander’s cheeks. He cleared his throat, his voice stern.

“Good. Because I’ll probably rip out the eyes of any woman who catches your interest.”

Viggo stared at him blankly. It was the Brute’s turn to dissolve in raucous laughter.

“What—” he said in a strangled voice, “what if it’s another man?!”

Evander jutted his chin out. “I’ll crush his balls so hard he’ll walk with a permanent lurch.”

This had Viggo doubling over.

Evander waited until he’d regained his composure before voicing a final sliver of doubt.

“Am I the only one who thinks this whole situation is far-fetched?” A shaky laugh left him. “We met a day ago. We barely know anything about one another. And yet here we are, pledging—” He stopped and bit his lip.

Viggo sobered. He traced Evander’s mouth with his thumb.

“Pledging our hearts to each other.” He leaned over and kissed Evander gently. “No, you aren’t the only one who believes what’s happening between us is insane.” The Brute’s gaze roamed Evander’s face, the light shining in their depths so intense Evander could not help but shiver. “None of this makes sense. But one thing I am confident about.”

“And that is?” Evander mumbled.

“It feels right.” Viggo took Evander’s hand and pressed it to his chest. “My heart never lies to me. And it’s telling me that what’s growing between us is meant to be.”

Evander’s breath caught. Emotion clogged his throat. His eyes prickled.

“I think I’m falling in love with a hopeless romantic,” he said tremulously.

Viggo smiled and wiped the tear trembling on his lash with a knuckle.

“I believe I shall very much enjoy courting you.” The Brute’s tone turned teasing. “Why, I’m even entertaining the idea of giving you flowers.” He pasted a solemn expression across his face. “I’ve never given anyone flowers.”

Evander snorted. “Jasper will keel over if you do.”

Viggo chuckled.

“Don’t worry about the House of Lords,” Evander said on a more serious note. “Many of us will voice objections to their latest proposal. And no voice will be louder than mine and the current Commissioner.”

Viggo stared. “You mean, Sir Ambrose?”

Evander dipped his head.

Sir Ambrose Watson, now Lord Watson after his royal appointment to the House of Lords, was the current Commissioner of the Metropolitan Police. A driving force for reform in Scotland Yard, he had worked relentlessly to improve relations between the magical and non-magical communities even before Evander had come on board. He’d always been a staunch advocate for the fairer treatment of thralls, often butting heads with more conservative elements in the government.

His nomination to the role of Commissioner after his retirement from the army was one of the reasons Evander had opted to enlist in the Arcane Division.

“That may not be enough.” Viggo’s expression grew troubled. “There are many unsavoury elements in Parliament. Nightshade has come across a fair few in the time the guild has been in operation.”

“If all else fails, I can always threaten them. I’m an Archmage, after all.”

Viggo’s eyebrows drew together. “Don’t jest. That will land you in Irongate Prison for sure.”

“It doesn’t have to be a physical threat.” Evander met his concerned gaze steadily. “As an Archmage, I stand to play a key role in this country’s defence. All I have to do is convince them I will leave England and the British Empire, and the Queen will have no choice but to cave in to my demands and intervene.”

Viggo’s eyes widened. “You would really do that?!”

Evander nodded.

“But—why?” Viggo swallowed convulsively. “I don’t understand why you and nobles like Lady Hartley would go so far for thralls.”

Evander gently caressed the Brute’s face.

“Because we believe magic isn’t meant to divide us,” he said softly. “It exists to unite us.” He pressed a soft kiss to Viggo’s brow. “Your very existence is proof of this. It is Nature trying to find a way to balance the scales before this entire world tips into chaos.”

Viggo’s breath shuddered out of him.

“You truly are remarkable,” he mumbled against Evander’s throat. “Then, I will help you.” He straightened, determination hardening his voice. “I promise that I will use all the resources at my hand and do everything in my power to see your goals achieved.”

Evander smiled at his resolute expression. “Alright.”

Viggo wrapped his arms around him. Evander sighed and sank into his embrace.

The Brute drew back after a moment and tipped Evander’s chin with his knuckles. He lowered his head and claimed Evander’s mouth in a sensual kiss. Evander shivered, heat coiling through his veins.

It didn’t take long for the kiss to turn passionate.

Viggo pulled Evander onto his lap. He went willingly, desire lighting up his senses with every stroke of Viggo’s tongue. Viggo’s gaze grew hooded as he kneaded Evander’s back and dropped his hands to his backside where he straddled his thighs.

Evander shuddered when their erections bumped.

He indulged Viggo for another minute before wrenching their mouths apart and pinning him with a sharp look.

“We’re not fucking, Viggo.”

The Brute’s shoulders slumped. “Oh, come now!”

“I said no and I mean it.” Evander ignored his beleaguered stare, climbed off his lap, and rearranged his dressing gown. “Off you go.” He waved briskly towards the door. “The hour is late and I need my sleep.”

Viggo’s jaw dropped open. “Are you kicking me out?!”

Evander bit his lip and just about managed to keep a straight face at the sight of the Brute’s outraged expression.

“Yes, I am. Now, hurry up and leave.”

Viggo groused as Evander herded him into the dressing room and out the window he’d used to enter the townhouse.

“My lover has a heart of stone,” the Brute grumbled, taking hold of the trellis.

Evander couldn’t resist dropping a kiss on his nose. “Goodnight, Viggo.”

He closed the window in the glum Brute’s face and drew the curtains closed. A wide grin split Evander’s face as he made his way to the bedroom, his heart lighter than it had been in days.