Page 48 of Arcane Entanglement
Evander braced himself for the accusation and loathing he expected to read in his eyes. But all he saw was annoyance towards Winterbourne. Surprise and something that felt fleetingly like hope quickened Evander’s pulse.
Does he not hate me?
Viggo crossed the floor and sat beside him, the chair creaking under his weight as he settled into it. Though they were separated by a couple of feet, Evander could feel the heat radiating off his body. It sent a shiver down his spine that had little to do with their current precarious situation.
Winterbourne steepled his hands under his chin and observed Viggo broodingly, blissfully unaware of the errant turn Evander’s thoughts had just taken.
“I’ll get straight to the point, Mr. Stonewall. Your friend committed a serious felony. Not only did he attack a noble, he laid his hands on an officer of the Met. As such?—”
“And like I’ve said a dozen times already Commander Winterbourne, Magnus was not in control of his faculties!” Evander interrupted harshly, his focus squarely on the situation at hand once more. “Rufus witnessed what happened in that cell. And you only need ask Mrs. Scarborough about the cursed gem she destroyed.”
Winterbourne lowered his brows. “Unfortunately, Mrs. Scarborough is not in a position to talk right now. The shock of witnessing—or rather shall I say,experiencingthe powers of an Archmage appears to have overwhelmed her. I sent her home.”
Guilt tightened Evander’s throat. “Is Philippa alright?”
Winterbourne watched him for a moment before sighing heavily, the fight visibly draining out of him. “She will be.” He sat back and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Hell and damnation, Ravenwood.” His tone softened as he gazed at him. “Do you even realise what you’ve done? Whatshewill say when she hears of this? You know I have no choice but to inform her.”
Viggo shot a puzzled glance at Evander.
A sour taste filled Evander’s mouth at Winterbourne’s pitying look.
He’d been doing his best to ignore the full ramifications of his actions in the cell that morning. After all, there were more pressing matters at hand. Like stopping an innocent man from going to prison and finding out the identity of the mage who’d killed Alastair Millbrook and orchestrated the attack on his carriage.
And let’s not forget the vial I discovered in the alley.
“You may lose those blue threads in your aiguillette,” Winterbourne said tiredly. “Her Majesty would be well within her rights to strip you of your role as a Royal Arcane Liaison after the trick you pulled this morning. Heavens man, she may even demand you quit being a Special Arcane Investigator and leave the Met!”
Rufus cursed under his breath. Viggo froze.
Someone sucked in air in the deadly hush.
They all looked towards the door.
Shaw stood there, eyes bulging and mouth round behind the fingers she was pressing to her lips.
“Miss Shaw, what are you still doing here?” Winterbourne said thinly.
“Being a fly on the wall, sir,” Shaw confessed unashamedly.
“Go be a fly on someone else’s wall.”
“I promise I’ll be as quiet as a mouse in a church,” Shaw protested. “You won’t even notice?—”
“Now, Miss Shaw!” Winterbourne snapped.
The mage’s shoulders slumped. She turned and shuffled out of the room. The door closed quietly behind her.
“You work for the Queen?”
Blood pounded inside Evander’s veins as he met Viggo’s accusing stare.
Dammit. I didn’t want him to find out this way!
“Not as such,” Evander admitted reluctantly.
Viggo’s eyes flitted to his uniform. “So, those blue threadsdon’trepresent the Royal Family?”
Evander shifted awkwardly in his chair. “They do.”
