Page 49 of Arcane Entanglement
“Then, that makes you her loyal dog, does it not?”
Viggo’s vicious words stabbed through Evander, leaving him breathless in the face of the revulsion he could no longer hide. The revulsion that was turning his eyes to dark gems full of loathing.
Evander could hardly blame the Brute. After all, it had been within the royal family’s powers to stop the War of Subjugation and its cruel aftermath had they so desired. Still, he could not stop the painful feeling choking his chest.
He’d wanted Viggo to trust him.
Rufus shot to his feet.
“How dare you?!” he hissed at Viggo. “You know nothing of Evander’s circumstances!”
“That statement could earn you time behind bars, Stonewall,” Winterbourne warned. “Be grateful I’m willing to keep it off the record.”
Evander paid no heed to his friend and his commander.
“I do not deny that my allegiance lies with Her Majesty Queen Victoria,” he told Viggo quietly. His nails carved grooves into his palms as he struggled to maintain a steady voice, the tumultuous emotions he’d kept on a tight leash for the last six years threatening to burst from behind the dam where he kept them. “But I am nobody’s dog.” He straightened, his face so stiff his jaw hurt. “I may live in a gilded cage of Her Majesty’s making, but that is only because I choose to let her do so. She knows there is a line I will never cross, whatever she may order me to do.”
Viggo curled a lip. “And that line is?”
Rufus scowled and took a step forward. “This son of a?—!”
“Inspector Grayson!” Winterbourne snapped.
Rufus froze in his tracks, his knuckles white at his sides.
The commander watched Evander and Viggo with a hooded gaze.
Viggo’s eyes bore cruelly into Evander.
“Well, mage?” he scoffed. “What is the precious line you told your Queen you would never cross?”
Evander took a shuddering breath and repeated the words he had told the woman who held his fate in her hands on the night he had informed her of his intentions to become a Special Arcane Investigator.
“There will not be another War of Subjugation. Not while I live and breathe.”
Viggo recoiled as if physically struck, the shock flaring across his face draining the blood from his complexion.
Evander turned to Winterbourne, surprised his hands weren’t trembling. His body felt hot and tight, as if it wanted to burst out of his skin.
“If you imprison Magnus Graveoak, the tensions between thralls and magic users will rise to fever pitch,” he said in a hard voice. “All this city needs is one more conflict and the House of Lords will pounce on the opportunity to press the government and Her Majesty to remove the Arcane Division from the jurisdiction of the Met and place it under their control.”
Rufus drew a sharp breath. Winterbourne went still.
“How did you—?” the commander started stiffly.
“I’m not a moron, sir,” Evander snapped. “I don’t attend all those balls and social functions for nothing. Lord Ashbrooke confirmed the motion is garnering favour in Parliament a few nights ago.” He blew out a sigh and ran a hand through his hair. “Of course, the House of Commons will fight it, but if the House of Lords gets Her Majesty on their side, it might as well be a done deal.”
Winterbourne cursed colourfully.
“What does that mean?” Viggo said tensely. “What does it mean if the Arcane Division is no longer under the authority of the Met?”
Evander pursed his lips at his anxious stare.
Well, at least he’s no longer looking at me like I’m a piece of rotting excrement under his boot.
“It means the Arcane Division will become a tool nobles will wield to rule over thralls. Whatever rights the magicless have fought for and won over the last decades will be overturned. You will become what you were before. Cattle to be used and abused at the will of those who possess magic.”
Evander knew he was being needlessly cruel. The horror widening Viggo’s eyes and the dread visibly tightening his body told him so. But he couldn’t help it.
