Chapter 9

CHAPTER NINE

Zarya spent the afternoon setting wards around the apartment and moving the furniture to better suit her. A servant arrived with more bags of clothes and toiletries for her. Zarya hadn’t expected a warm reception and found that she was quite touched that she was given such nice things.

She thought Arkon must have had something to do with it. She knew that letting her magic touch his would be dangerous, and the simple binding spell that the djinn had performed had left her shaken to her core.

Magic always left a signature, and after every attack on the Varangians, Zarya would search for traces of him. The feel of his magic was always like a scorching sensation that seemed to tease her power and challenge it.

In the last few years, having Arkon throw some kind of spell at them had always brightened her day. It was a revelation when she realized how much she looked forward to whatever challenge he had set for her.

The echoes of his power had been intoxicating enough; having it brush against hers had made her feel like she was losing her mind. Her magic had loved his heat burning against it. The conflicting sensations rolling through her were more intimate than sex.

Dangerous, dangerous, dangerous.

Arkon had been right when he said they had needed boundaries. She was raw, like he had opened her up and looked inside.

She looked at the wards she had coated her walls with and added another layer. She felt...threatened. Her body was trying to tell her she was in danger, and yet, she knew she wasn’t.

Arkon Ziani set off every alarm she had, and it still wouldn’t stop her from plunging into the abyss of his power.

Zarya was one of the most powerful creatures walking the earth and had often been afraid of what she would do if she ever lost control of the magic inside of her.

Now she knew that Arkon could stop her because he was her balance. The fire that could burn through the ice inside of her. They were the same. She had always suspected it, but suspecting was different from knowing. Arkon could destroy her, and instead of horrifying her, it thrilled her.

Zarya loved magic, and she wanted to climb inside of his to figure out just how it worked.

The sun was setting out on the sea when there came a knock at her door. Zarya had changed her top to one of scarlet satin and used some of her new makeup to freshen her face. She needed some kind of armor because she was still jittery from Arkon’s magic.

The sorcerer was waiting for her outside of the door. He looked like he’d spent the last hour running his hands through his hair, leaving his curls at odd angles. Perhaps she wasn’t the only one who was still feeling jittery.

"I could feel you laying wards," he said, casting a look at the rooms behind her.

Zarya closed the door. "I told you I wouldn’t let my magic leak through."

"I appreciate that." Arkon tucked his hands in his pockets, but she could still see how they clenched and unclenched. "Let’s go. I’m starving."

Zarya hadn’t had freedom of movement in years. She was excited to be in a new place. If she hadn’t been half mad with her running the past few weeks, she would have enjoyed her new freedom a lot more. She’d had an almost feral urgency to find Arkon, and she still didn’t fully understand why. Grief did strange things to a person.

When they reached the doors leading out into San Marco Square, Arkon halted.

"I usually put up a glamor so people can’t see me. Would it be okay if I added you into it? I don’t want people stopping us, and to be honest, you’re not exactly popular here," he said.

Zarya nodded. "I don’t mind. I imagine everyone wants to harass you. It was the same for me in Kyiv. I had to have an armed escort wherever I went."

"That sounds exhausting. Hold still," Arkon said, and his magic wrapped around her. It was like a warm blanket had been put around her shoulders.

"Does your magic always feel so hot?" she asked him.

Arkon’s brows shot up. "You can feel it?"

Zarya nodded. "Is it because the original spell for it was charged with fire?"

"Yes, how... You know what? I’ll save questions until we both have a drink," he said with an awkward laugh.

"That sounds like a wise idea. It is strange to be here," she said, looking about at the beautiful old buildings and the terracotta roofs. "I have thought about this city so much that it’s surreal to be walking its streets."

"Venice has that effect on people. I’m not going to lie—seeing you here is just as surreal," he admitted.

Zarya risked glancing up at him. He was a tall man but was completely unselfconscious about it. There was no hunch to make himself smaller to not make people feel less intimidated. He simply didn’t care or notice what people thought. Zarya had been like that before she had been made into a false saint.

"The emperor didn’t let you off your leash much, did he?" Arkon said as they made their way around small crowds of people milling about the shops and cafes.

"Is it that obvious?"

"You are staring at everything with a kind of wonder that suggests you weren’t allowed out."

Zarya fiddled with the button on the cuff of her coat. "Arkadi said it was for my own safety. I let myself be caged and let them believe they had the power to do it. I didn’t want to frighten them."

"I understand that," Arkon replied and smiled a little. "I can imagine they were quite surprised that you walked out when you wanted to."

"I didn’t exactly walk out gracefully. I might have blown a hole in the side of the wall," Zarya said, tasting the blood and fury on her tongue again.

Arkon’s eyes crinkled up before he burst out laughing. "If you’re going to do it, do it in style, I suppose," he said.

Zarya let the light feeling spread through her, and she began to laugh with him. "You should have seen the look on their faces. It was like they had never seen an angry woman before. I wasn’t thinking as clearly as I should have been, but it was worth it just for the pressure release. I suppose you know what that’s like too. The rumors about your display in Rogotin spread faster than the fire you unleashed on them."

"I slept like a baby afterwards. It was like my head was clear for the first time in months." Arkon was still smiling when he removed their glamor and pushed open the door to a restaurant. He greeted the owner with a smile and a kiss on the cheek, and she hustled them through the restaurant and out the back to a table that overlooked the water.

"This is a great spot," Zarya commented as she took her seat.

"Zahir showed it to me. I find crowded restaurants uncomfortable at the best of times. Besides, we have private things to talk about."

"We do?" she said because she found teasing him was her new favorite thing.

Arkon sat opposite her and poured out her wine. "We are allies. Bonded with magic and everything. I can’t betray you, so I want some honesty."

"It goes both ways, sorcerer. The bond is forced trust, but you know as well as I do that there are ways around such agreements," Zarya replied.

"Don’t tell me you’ve already looked at how to do it."

"You said you wanted some honesty, so here it is." Zarya leaned forward and whispered, "We have both prodded the bond this afternoon to figure out how we can undo it. The fact that we are leaving it in place is a sign we want it to make the other one feel safe. But we are not safe people, sorcerer, and that’s why we’re going to be excellent friends."

Arkon’s face went from all smiles to something else in the blink of an eye. It wasn’t the face he put on to make others feel comfortable. It was just him. "Excellent friends or excellent enemies."

"Let’s start with friends. I’m rather tired of being enemies with you." Zarya’s smile widened. "And we do have so many other enemies to see to at the moment."

Arkon’s eyes glowed with fire before he blinked it away. "You’re going to be dangerous to my health."

"Back at you. Try not to be scared when you realize just how well I can handle you, Arkon," she replied. She hadn’t meant it to come out as suggestive as it did, but she found she didn’t care how he took it.

"Handle me? I can’t wait to see you try."

They were interrupted by the owner carrying in a basket of bread. "I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you bring a woman here, Grand Sorcerer. The courtesans of Venice will weep when they hear you had a date," she said with bubbling good humor.

"It was bound to happen at some point, Maria. Can we get another bottle of wine? I find I’m in need of courage all of a sudden," Arkon said, his flirtatious smile back in place.

"What can I get you?" Maria asked Zarya.

She looked at Arkon. "What’s good? I’ll let you choose."

"She needs cheese, Maria! She’s a poor dear Varangian refugee. She probably only ate cabbage for months," he said, his eyes twinkling over the top of the menu.

"Only when you changed all the food in Kyiv into cabbage," Zarya pointed out.

Arkon snickered. "I had forgotten about that."

"I’ll bring you something good," Maria assured her and left them alone without taking either of their orders.

When Maria was gone, Arkon turned back to Zarya. "Better for everyone not to know who you are."

"I agree. I wouldn’t want an army of your conquests coming after me," she teased, hating the uncomfortable feeling that was suddenly in the pit of her stomach.

"Try not to sound too jealous, little wolf." Arkon grinned and took another sip of his wine. "A man in my position is expected to have a certain kind of reputation. Do you want to know a secret?"

Zarya hesitated and nodded. "Always."

"There’s nothing that happens in this city without the courtesans knowing about it. Most of the regulars I see are actually working for me as part of my network." Arkon leaned back in his chair. "Women especially get overlooked as a threat, and post nut clarity does tend to get tongues wagging."

"Ah, that makes more sense," Zarya said and laughed softly. "To think everyone believes you’re a terrible womanizer."

"People assume much, and I let them. It means they underestimate you, and I get to know every dirty fantasy and kink they have to use against them if they ever cross me. It’s win-win," Arkon replied. He took a piece of bread from the bowl and tore it apart with his long fingers. A thought seemed to occur to him. "I’m not a virgin."

Zarya laughed. "I didn’t think you were. My mother is a priestess of Freya. If you were a virgin, trust me, I would know. Call it a professional skill."

"If I fucked as much as everyone claimed, I’d never have time to do anything else. Besides, sex is fine but magic is better," Arkon replied, looking into his wine glass like he hoped it would suddenly refill itself.

"So, the whoring thing… It really is all a costume with you, isn’t it?" she asked.

"You had your golden saint’s robes to do it for you. Excellent ruse."

Zarya stroked the stem of her wine glass. "I suppose they were. The robes, the braids, the seclusion. It was a way to protect myself. I thought Arkadi was the one person I didn’t need to hide from, but I was wrong about that too."

"You said he was a family friend. What did you mean by that?" Arkon asked. "I can see he hurt you deeply."

"It was never sexual," she said quickly.

"I’m not about to judge you if it was, lupa. Although I am curious how a daughter who grew up in a cult of Freya handled being a celibate saint," he said with a crooked smile.

"Poorly, but I thought I was doing it for the right reasons." Zarya drank another mouthful of wine. "I’m going to trust you with some of my secrets, sorcerer. If you betray me, they will never find your body."

"You don’t have to threaten me, Zarya," Arkon said gently and placed his hand over hers. "But I like it when you do."

"You’re a strange one," she said, laughter bubbling out of her.

"Takes one to know one." Arkon topped up her wine. "Come now, tell me all your juicy secrets. I can keep them."

Zarya was already tipsy, so she leaned forward and crooked a finger at him. Arkon looked about before leaning closer.

"First secret," she whispered. "If doing magic is better than the sex you’re having, you are either with the wrong person or you are doing it wrong."

Arkon tilted his head back and laughed. "And what’s your second secret?"

"I could show you how to do it right," she said playfully. He suddenly looked thoughtful enough that her teasing backfired, and her ears went red. She cleared her throat. "But all nonsense aside, I’m going to tell you the truth about me and Arkadi."

Zarya didn’t have anything else to lose, so she opened her mouth, and the real secrets began to spill out of their own accord.