Arcane Entanglement (The Mage and His Brute #1)

Chapter 39

“I’m sorry, sir,” the secretary stammered. “He insisted on?—”

“It’s alright,” Winterbourne said gruffly. “Mr. Stonewall is working with us on this case.”

The secretary nodded jerkily and left.

Evander couldn’t help the butterflies that swarmed his stomach at the sight of the Brute.

Heat flashed in Viggo’s eyes before he schooled his face in a neutral expression.

“I apologise for the interruption. I have information about Millbrook’s family.”

Evander’s pulse accelerated. “You do?”

Viggo nodded curtly. “One of our agents talked to someone yesterday who’d spotted a woman and a young man fitting Martha and William Millbrook’s description at a train station in Hertfordshire, about a week ago.” Lines wrinkled his brow. “But it was Lady Hartley’s information that guided us to their hiding place.”

Rufus frowned in confusion. “Lady Hartley?”

Evander blinked. “Ginny helped you out?!”

“Yes. She contacted us this morning. She said she’d thought the name Millbrook sounded familiar. She had her staff scour her various business ledgers and found that someone by the name of Martha Millbrook had ordered several household items and furniture from one of her shops. Except the address given for the purchases made under that name wasn’t for the property in Finsbury.”

Gratitude loosened Evander’s chest.

I must thank Ginny when I see her next!

The Brute related the rest of what Nightshade had uncovered, which coincided with Ginny’s tip. Millbrook’s wife and son had fled London shortly before his death and taken refuge close to the village of Harpenden.

A heavy silence fell over the room in the wake of this news.

“Whatever Millbrook was involved in, it terrified him enough that he forced his family to abandon their lives in London and go into hiding.” Evander met Viggo’s gaze, feeling energised at this fresh clue. “We should go meet them.”

Viggo glanced at the light leeching out of the sky beyond the windows. “It’ll be nighttime when we get there. Tomorrow would be better.”

Evander heaved a sigh and ran a hand through his hair. “You’re right, of course.”

Winterbourne narrowed his eyes. “You appear to have conveniently forgotten what we were just discussing, Ravenwood.”

Evander’s mouth pressed to an irritated line.

Viggo’s puzzled gaze swung between them. “Did something happen?”

“We’ve discovered what the crystal vial Evander found at the murder scene may be intended for,” Rufus said grimly. “Evander wants word put out that he has it on his person. He intends to act as bait and draw the dark mages out.”

Viggo narrowed his eyes dangerously. “What?”

His stormy expression almost had Evander squirming as he fixed him with a deadly stare.

“It’s a good idea,” Evander said, unable to mask the defensive note creeping into his voice.

“It’s a stupid idea is what it is!” Viggo snarled.

The Brute’s vehemence startled Winterbourne and drew a weary exhale from Rufus.

“But—” Evander started.

“Absolutely not!” the Brute growled. “It’s suicide.”

“That’s what I said!” Rufus exclaimed, vindicated.

Evander’s face tightened. “It’s our best chance to ensnare them. We can’t keep waiting for them to make the next move.”

“So you’re offering yourself up as a sacrificial lamb?” Viggo’s voice dropped, low and dangerous. “I won’t allow it.”

Evander scowled. “ You won’t allow it?!”

The temperature in the room dropped noticeably as his magic responded to his agitation.

Viggo stood his ground, unfazed by the display of power.

“Hmm, Evander—” Rufus murmured.

Evander cut his eyes to him. “Stay out of this, Rufus!”

The inspector sagged.

Winterbourne stared, confounded. The commander regained his composure.

“Gentlemen, perhaps we should all take a moment to?—”

“No,” Evander said bitingly, his eyes locked on Viggo. “This needs to be settled now.” He jutted his chin. “I’m not asking for permission, Viggo. I’m telling you what I intend to do.”

If Winterbourne was shocked at the fact they were on a first name basis, he didn’t indicate it.

Viggo and Evander stared at one another, the air between them practically crackling with tension.

Viggo looked away first.

“Fine,” he said gruffly. “But I’m not letting you do this alone. Wherever you go, I go.” He pinned Evander with an unrelenting look. “You want to use yourself as bait? Then you get me as your personal bodyguard.”

Evander blinked, as taken aback by the sudden capitulation as he was by the bold suggestion that immediately followed it.

“I…that’s not necessary. I’m perfectly capable of?—”

“I know you are,” Viggo interrupted. His eyes darkened. “But you don’t have to do everything alone. Let me help.”

The look on the Brute’s face made Evander’s chest tighten.

He swallowed hard, acutely aware of Rufus and Winterbourne’s presence.

It was the only reason he didn’t close the distance to Viggo and embrace him.

“Alright,” Evander murmured.

Relief brightened Viggo’s gaze.

Winterbourne leaned towards the inspector.

“Is there something going on between those two?” he hissed.

Rufus pursed his lips. “They’re just friends, sir.”

“I forgot to mention.” Viggo frowned. “A name cropped up during Nightshade ’s investigations of Noctis Bloom and those dark mages. Caine Renwick.”

The next morning dawned clear and cold, a rarity in smog-choked London. Viggo took in the sights and sounds around him where he stood on a platform at Charing Cross station.

A vaulted iron and glass ceiling soared overhead, the magical lamps suspended beneath it supplementing the natural light streaming inside the building. Porters scurried about, weaving carts laden with trunks and valises expertly between the milling passengers. The air was thick with the smell of coal smoke and ozone, the latter a byproduct of the enchantments that powered the trains.

His shoulders tensed fractionally as he studied the hulking steam engine a little down the way from where he stood.

The locomotive was a marvel of modern engineering and magic, its brass fittings gleaming in the weak sunlight and the runes etched along its dark body pulsing with arcane energy.

Despite its impressive appearance, Viggo couldn't shake the unease that settled in his gut at the thought of boarding it. This would be his sixth time on a train and he remained as cautious as he’d been during his first journey a few years ago. He was recalling a particularly nasty incident in Strasbourg involving a locomotive when a voice came behind him.

“Everything alright?” Evander asked curiously.

Viggo turned.

The mage and his inspector friend were coming towards him, having collected the first class passes Scotland Yard had booked for their passage to Harpenden from the ticket office.

Viggo was briefly distracted by Evander’s striking face and his alluring physique beneath the uniform he wore.

Damn, he’s a handsome fellow. He couldn’t wait to peel off the mage’s clothes and explore his delectable, naked body. One day. Soon.

He wasn’t the only one staring at Evander. Scores of passengers were shooting covetous looks at the oblivious mage.

“Viggo?” Evander asked, puzzled.

Viggo curbed his feverish imagination.

“I was thinking I don’t trust this beast of a machine.” He indicated the train. “Give me a damn horse any day.”

Amusement sparkled in Evander’s eyes at his crotchety tone.

“I never thought I’d see the great Viggo Stonewall intimidated by a means of transportation.”

“I’m not intimidated,” Viggo grumbled. “I’m cautious. There’s a difference.”

“Of course there is,” Evander chuckled.

Rufus’s face grew pinched at their flirting. “We should board soon. The train leaves in ten minutes.”

Viggo couldn’t help but notice the uneasy glances his presence earned as they made their way down the platform. Charing Cross was a hub of activity, with mostly magical folks hurrying to and fro. Yet, the crowd seemed to part instinctively around him, as if he carried a contagious disease. He caught snatches of whispered conversations.

“Is that…?!”

“My God, it’s the Ironfist Brute, I’m sure of it!”

“What’s he doing here ?!”

Viggo set his jaw, determined to ignore the stares and murmurs.

He realised Evander was glaring at the people ogling him. That fact alone loosened his shoulders and had him keeping his chin up.

Viggo had to duck to avoid hitting his head on the doorframe when they boarded their carriage. The interior was plush, all polished wood and velvet upholstery, and more luxury than a thrall could ever afford in their lifetime.

It was a far cry from the cabins where commoners travelled.

“Hertfordshire isn’t far,” Evander said as they settled into their seats. “We’ll be there before you know it.”

Viggo couldn’t help but stiffen when the station master blew his enchanted whistle. The train lurched into motion.

Evander gave him an encouraging look from across the way.

The mage had elected to sit beside Rufus.

Viggo wasn’t sure if it was because he was choosing to maintain a professional distance or he’d sensed the Brute’s hidden intent to jump him.

The journey passed in a blur of green fields and small villages, the landscape rushing by at a speed that amazed and troubled Viggo in equal measure. He couldn’t help but drum a nervous rhythm on his knee as the train carried them to their destination.

He’d faced down mages and fought battles that would make most men quake with fear, but something about hurtling through the countryside in a metal box made his skin crawl.

Soon, they were pulling into Harpenden station.

A man was waiting for them on the platform, his nondescript clothing belying the alertness in his gaze. He strolled up to them as they got off their carriage.

“All clear, boss,” he told Viggo in a low voice. “There’ve been no signs of mages around these parts since yesterday.”

“Good work.” Viggo introduced the man to Evander and Rufus. “This is Hawk, one of Nightshade 's undercover agents. He’s been keeping an eye on things.”

Hawk dipped his flat cap at the two Met officers and escorted them out of the station.