Page 45 of Arcane Entanglement
Chapter19
Viggo stared blindlyat Magnus’s washed-out face, his mind a jumbled mess.
The unconscious Brute was lying in a bed in the Met’s infirmary.
“I can’t believe Ravenwood is an Archmage,” Solomon muttered darkly where he sat opposite Viggo.
Viggo clenched his jaw. If mages were his sworn enemy, then Archmages were the devils he’d promised he would eradicate from all of England. His kind had lost too much to them.
Hehad lost too much to them.
Memories of the day when he had learned the true meaning of the word terror, when he had been made to watch as his entire family and village were slaughtered before his eyes, scorched his inner vision. The rage and hate that forever simmered in his heart tightened his chest until he could barely breathe.
Concern clouded Solomon’s face as he eyed Viggo’s whitening knuckles where he gripped the armrests of his chair.
“Steady there,” he warned in a low voice. “You shouldn’t go breaking things in this place. I’m sure they’re looking for any old reason to put us behind bars.” He sneaked a look around.
Contrary to Solomon’s assertion, the few staff in the ward were staying well clear of them. It was Evander who had instructed they be given some privacy after Magnus had been treated by one of the Met’s healers. The expression on the Ice Mage’s face when he and Rufus had left a short while ago rose before Viggo’s eyes.
Resignation. A smidgen of dread.
There had even been defiance in Evander’s ice-blue gaze.
What had been lacking was remorse.
Evander did not appear to regret inadvertently revealing his status as an Archmage. That he had disclosed such a staggering secret to save Magnus’s life was the only reason Viggo hadn’t gone for his throat in that cell.
And what would I have done?Throttle him to death?!
The tension knotting his stomach and groin told him killing the mage would have been the last thing on his mind had he gotten his hands on him.
Evander Ravenwood was a much bigger threat to his sanity than he had originally anticipated. Because the thoughts and feelings he was entertaining about the man were as far removed from loathing as the sun was from the moon.
There were other facts about Evander that continued to puzzle him.
His status as a Duke meant he had scarce need for a profession. From what Viggo recalled hearing about his estates and business ventures, the man’s wealth likely surpassed that of the combined riches of half the nobles in the capital.
Yet, Evander had chosen to be a Special Arcane Investigator. Not only that, he had peacefully mediated many a dispute between the police and thralls since he had taken up that position. In fact, bar the incident with Magnus, Viggo could not recall a single instance where the mage had harmed a thrall.
There was only one thing he wished to ask Evander.
Why was he working for the Met?
Frustration gnawed at Viggo’s insides.
Maybe if I know the answer to that question, I might understand why I feel this way about him.
It dawned on Viggo that he was blatantly disregarding his own steadfast resolve that morning to stay away from the mage. Judging from Solomon’s troubled expression, he’d caught on to that fact and didn’t like it one bit.
“We should take Magnus and leave as soon as he wakes up.”
“They may not let him go.” Viggo rubbed the back of his neck and sighed at Solomon’s mutinous expression. “Look, it’s not as if we have a choice in the matter. Magnus’s involvement in the case Evander and Rufus are investigating means we can’t just walk away from this.” He lowered his brows. “Besides, I want to catch the bastards who did this to Magnus. And I know you do too.”
Solomon’s mouth flattened to a thin line.
“Promise you won’t get involved with him,” he said brusquely.
Viggo startled. “What?”
