Page 21 of Arcane Entanglement
Evander swallowed a sigh. He’d wondered if the pair might develop amorous feelings towards one another when he’d first introduced them. Alas, Rufus saw Ginny as nothing more than an irritating younger sister he needed to keep in line, while Ginny considered Rufus a maddening older brother in serious need of removing the stick permanently wedged up his arse.
Ginny frowned at Evander as Mrs. Sinclair finished her ministration.
“Look, I know you got us out of a pickle tonight, but what you did was reckless. Those mages saw you use all your elemental powers.”
Mrs. Sinclair froze. “He never did,” she mumbled hoarsely.
“Bloody hellfire, my Lord!” Hargrove cursed.
“You mean there are dark mages running around London right now who know what you are?!” Rufus said, horrified.
Evander met their accusing stares with a contrite expression. “It couldn’t be helped.”
Less than ten people in the world knew of his status as an Archmage. Considering Archmages were considered de facto property of the state because of their dangerous powers, it wasn’t something he was keen to make public.
Mrs. Sinclair’s gaze held a healthy dose of concern mixed with incrimination.
Evander suspected she was thinking of one person in particular who would be most vexed that he’d accidentally revealed his true nature. The person he ultimately answered to and who’d kept him in a gilded cage for the last six years.
Ginny sighed. “So, what’s this about a vial?”
Evander removed the enchanted cane strapped to his forearm and twisted the top end, exposing a hollow metal compartment. It was short and narrow, just the right size to take a rolled-up note or a miniature magical device.
The crystal vial fell out into his palm when he tipped the stick, the blue liquid inside it shining faintly.
Hargrove whistled softly under his breath. “Now, that’s a thing of beauty. You can tell the Charm Weaver who made this put a lot of work into it.”
Evander and Rufus stared at the manservant.
“What makes you think this is the work of a Charm Weaver?” Evander said, puzzled. “They are normally metal crafters.”
“That goes to show how much you know about Charm Weavers, my Lord,” Hargrove scoffed. “The best artisans can work with any material.” The manservant closed the medicine box and ignored Mrs. Sinclair’s disapproving look as she took the seat he’d vacated.
Rufus came over to the desk and carefully picked up the object Evander had recovered from the alley.
“You found this near the dead man?”
He held it between two fingers and examined it against the light.
“Yes.” Healing magic warmed Evander’s hands as Mrs. Sinclair began treating his scrapes. “I think it was on the body of the victim when he fell. And I believe the mage who attacked us in the alley sent those men to retrieve it tonight.”
It had been a moment’s distraction that had made Evander slip the evidence he’d collected from the East End inside the cane before he’d left the townhouse to go pick up Ginny. The act had turned out to be providence of the most dangerous kind. One Evander hoped would lead them to the killer.
“Do you know what it is?” Rufus asked curiously.
“No. But I hope Mr. Brown and his associates will be able to decipher the substance it contains and its function.” Evander hesitated. “Whatever it is, there’s some kind of magic tracer on it. They knew I had it on me.”
Ginny lowered her brows where she’d joined them at the desk to study the vial Rufus held. “That strange magic you sensed in the gardens at Ashbrooke House.” She glanced at Evander. “You think that was them sniffing this out?”
Evander dipped his head. Ginny was sharper than many of the Met inspectors he knew.
“What happened at Ashbrooke House?” Rufus asked guardedly.
They gave him a shortened version of the events at the ball.
“You danced with the season’s belle?” Rufus said incredulously.
Even Hargrove stared at Evander like he’d grown a second head.
