26. Adam

Ihadn't known fear before—the acidic taste at the back of my throat, every contour thrown into sharp relief. Shadows loomed like giants. Perhaps it was proximity to the epicentre or perhaps it was my connection to Liam, but now that we were here, I felt it too.

A dam, about to burst. And we had no plan. All we had was us.

Our eyes met. Liam looked overwhelmed yet determined, something fiercely stubborn about the set of his jaw. When he nodded, I threw the gate open, ready to throw up a protective wall of fire as we strode into the room.

My skin peeled clean off my body.

That's what it felt like, anyway—a deep slice that had me reeling. I fell to my knees, head in my hands, make it stop, please, oh God, just make it stop.

"Adam!"

Gale. I forced my lids open.

Liam was right next to me, doubled over on the ground. I crawled across the tiles that separated us and covered him up, shielded him with my body. Just in case. Just in case. If they wanted to hurt him, they'd have to go through me. Somehow, I raised my head. A circle—we'd walked right into an entrapment circle that had torn our magic away. I could sense mine just out of reach, crashing against the barrier that separated us. Lila was fluttering by the gate we'd come through, and I could only hope she'd be smart enough to stay out of sight. To get help if she could.

"How kind of you to join us," Eleanor said primly. "We thought you might."

I forced myself to take a deep breath, to ignore the ache in my bones. The room looked like a tomb. Flickering light washed the walls and arched ceiling in a yellowish green, my aunt and uncle standing with my two youngest cousins. My father was next to them, frowning, one hand on Gale's shoulder to stop him from rushing towards me. Gale stared at me in concern, and I tried to smile but couldn't make my facial muscles move.

His gaze flicked down at the circle and back up at me. Down again. Huh? I blinked, everything shifting in my mind, a dizzying swirl, thoughts stutter-stopping.

"Wouldn't miss this party for the world," I managed. I sounded drunk, my tongue so very heavy. Why were they just standing there? Where was Christian?

There. In his own circle in the middle of the room, chalk lines forming a pattern around him that I'd never seen before. His eyes were closed, arms spread. I'd have noticed him sooner if my mind wasn't lurching like a seagull flying through a storm.

"Adam?" Liam murmured.

"Yeah." I tightened my hold on him. "We walked into a trap. I'm working on it."

He exhaled and shifted against me. His lids fluttered open. "Adam—my magic is gone."

"Circle," I said and caught Gale's eye once more. Had he drawn it?

"Fuck."

That just about summed it up, yeah. I bit my lip and tasted blood, the pain sharpening my thoughts. Would the dam hold until Summers got here?

"Can you still feel the magic?" I whispered even though there was noise around us. It sounded like the crackle of an inferno, like wind that whipped the ocean into a frenzy. The gaping void where my magic should be left me dizzy. "How bad is it?"

"It's…" He turned his head to take in our surroundings, eyes a little unfocused. Then he grasped my hand. "Jesus, Adam. Look at Christian."

Look at him?

I let my gaze soften, and the room was suddenly awash in light. How—? The circle should have torn away Liam's ability to see magic, but somehow, it hadn't. Blinding brightness was gathered under the domed ceiling, so thick it seemed almost dark, greedily lapping at the walls. And Christian—Christian was on fire, burning up, bright orange shining through his pores as though his skin had grown so thin it had become transparent. More magic swirled around him, rainbow colours ready to strike, and oh God, he was going to crack open.

"Stop it!" I yelled. "It's too much!"

As if he'd heard me, Christian swayed sideways, staggered, and almost fell out of the circle. A trail of orange light followed, blazing like a shooting star. My uncle rushed forward to catch him, unaware of the magic that condensed around them, drunk on its own potential, stalking them like a predator. Together, they stumbled towards my aunt and the girls.

"Nova," Liam muttered, and yeah, Christian might be one now. It didn't quite compute.

"Your turn," my father told Gale.

"Don't!" I scrambled upright, Liam rising with me, and I started forward only to collide with the circle's barrier. I'd forgotten. My head was spinning, the taste of panic like smoke in my lungs. "Gale, don't! It's too dangerous!"

"Scared you'll lose your special status?" Christian sounded barely conscious, but that didn't seem to stop him from mouthing off.

Halfway to the central circle, Gale hesitated. Fuck, if only he could see what Liam and I saw—the dark brew of agitation, the ever-faster swirl of magic around the perimeter of the room as though seeking a way out, washing up against the walls.

"I'm sorry, Adam." Gale ducked his head, unhappiness in the curve of his shoulders. "If there's a chance that I could become like you…It would solve so much."

"Gale!" I called, my voice twisting high on the name.

He turned away and took another step towards the centre of the room. Another. I wanted to scream. Again, I threw myself against the circle's barrier and bounced back, Liam there to break my fall. I clung to him.

Gale stepped into the central circle.

Magic gathered around it like a thick bundle of lightning, an echo of the thunderstorm that seemed light years away down here in the crypt. It streamed towards him—only fire at first, as though it was naturally drawn to him. Then water. Air and earth hovered in flashes of white and green, ready to lash out. I held my breath, and God, I'd never been the praying kind, but now I did pray, please, please, please. I'll do anything.

Green light brushed Gale's shoulder. He flinched as though struck by a jolt of electricity.

"Fucking get him out of there!" Liam yelled while I—I was frozen, words beyond me. No. Not Gale. Please, not Gale.

He swayed, barely perceptible. No one else moved.

I jerked my magic to me and she tried, she tried. Couldn't break through. Adrenaline rushed in my ears, and that's when I noticed it—a tiny fissure in the circle that trapped Liam and me, just a hair's width. No—not a fissure, but a deliberate weakness built into the pattern. Gale's work? If I pulled my magic towards me, guiding her through that infinitesimal crack…And if Liam did the same…

"Liam, there." I pointed.

"Got it," Liam said, and oh, I loved him. So fucking much.

This time, I was more intentional in calling my magic to me. She pooled around the crack and intertwined with Liam's. Impatience tugged on me and I willed it down, forced my attention to stay on task rather than flick to Gale. I needed to get this right. Come to me. My magic licked at the circle, the multitude of colours that represented Liam's slightly more tentative.

Had the crack widened?

A thump. I looked up just in time to see Gale fall—and then our circle broke and I was running, threw myself down next to him. He wasn't moving. I slapped his cheek. He wasn't fucking moving. But breathing, breathing. I dragged him away from the epicentre of where magic now formed a pillar of blinding light, colours flickering, mixing, a nauseating neon show. Plain to see even though I was no longer touching Liam.

Liam. Where was?—?

No. He walked right into the pillar as though it called to him.

I scrambled upright just as my dad knelt by Gale's side and propped him up, face twisted in concern. Magic punched at my dad, had him reeling for a second just as Gale coughed and doubled over. Alive, thank God. Another surge of magic crashed into the ceiling. It held.

But Liam. Liam. Caught in a storm of lightning, too much for just one person. Tiles cracked under his feet, and my entire body pulled tight with the thought that I was going to lose him. I couldn't, no. Not again. I started for him and shook off my father who tried to stop me, who yelled at me to stay back. It registered dimly—not important.

"He's inciting it!" That was Eleanor, and the sharpness in her voice made me whirl around just in time to throw up a wall of fire. It swallowed the flames she'd hurtled at Liam. Don't you fucking dare.He's mine. I didn't know why he'd entered the pillar but I trusted him. With my life, if necessary. Whatever it takes.

I built the wall up higher and wound it all the way around us, blocked him off from my family. Just him and me now. A first good look at his face, and fuck, he looked like he was in pain, burning up just like Christian earlier. I reached for him, caught his elbow, and he gasped.

"It's too much. I can't—" Words slurred, syllables blending together. "Thought I could hold it but—too fucking much. Need you to get away. Out of here. Out of London."

"No." I held on to him and felt the edge of a terrible pull, like staring into an abyss and slowly swaying closer. What was it he'd said all those weeks ago when I'd started helping out with his prototypes? If I took care of fire, it freed him up to focus on the other elements.

I could do that.

Stepping fully into the pillar was like nothing I'd ever done. Wind tearing at me, heat rushing down my spine and ice coursing through my veins, the ground rolling under my feet. I sucked in a breath that nearly froze my lungs. On the edge of my awareness, my magic bucked as she strove to get to me. I'm okay.

"Get away," Liam repeated, almost pleading now, pupils so wide they nearly swallowed the blue of his eyes. I laced our hands instead.

Instantly, my perception shifted, the individual branches of magic clearer now. Orange. I called whole branches of it to me, let thin tendrils of blue wind around my arms and chest too. They squeezed me as though I were a fun little toy, theirs to play with. It hurt, Christ. I'd sat in a massage chair once that had fully enclosed my arms and legs. It was like that only it didn't stop, bone-crushing pressure. Black flitted around the edges of my vision.

Focus.

I reached out with my mind. My own magic had always felt like a collective kind of intelligence to me, a million sparks making up one consciousness that felt vastly different from that of a human. I sought out the bright centre in the cloud of light that tried to crush my bones. Talk to me.

I felt its attention turn to me with the blinding radiance of a spotlight. The pressure eased just slightly, and I drew a deep breath. Talk to me.

A wave of rage washed over me—second-hand agitation, a confused sense of being uprooted and trapped, a claustrophobic need to break free and return home. The circle a cage, this room a prison, escape, scared, tear it all down. I'd never thought of magic as belonging somewhere, but perhaps I should have—mine was tied to me as much as she was anchored in this city. If it could take decades or even generations for magic to truly adapt to a new place, it stood to reason that it wouldn't take well to being torn from its natural home.

Where's home?

Impressions flitted through my mind that I couldn't quite grasp, gone too quickly—soothing shadows and a sense of weightlessness, the heat of a sun ray, the trickle of rain. The crushing hold on me loosened just slightly.

Can you find your way back?

It was a mosaic of emotions that answered me, certainty and longing mingled with the claustrophobia of being trapped.

If I help, will you spare this city?

Again, the pressure around me gave way just a little. Help how?

By setting you free.

Yes. Go home.

I checked on Liam. Green and white still swirled around his figure, interspersed with hints of blue, but it was gentler now, twining around him rather than trying to tear him apart. Funny—even magic couldn't help falling in love with him. The thought was coated in a hint of hysteria, relief bubbling in my stomach. I could have lost him, oh God.

But I hadn't.

"Liam."

"Adam." As his eyes found mine, his face was calm, voice serene rather than triumphant. "Are you all right?"

"Yes. You?"

"I'm okay."

"Good." I squeezed his fingers.

And broke the circle that tethered the magic flowing around us.

A ripple went through the myriad of sparks that enveloped us like a swarm of fireflies. Everything seemed to stop for a beat, a silence so vast it could birth a universe. And then, suddenly, the light ebbed away like water seeping into sand. One last wave welled up and washed through the room, slammed into a column and sheared away a substantial fragment of plaster. A coil reached out to lash at Eleanor and just barely missed her eyes, leaving a deep gash on her cheek as she flinched back.

Draining away.

Only a few tendrils lingered, blue light that kept clinging to my wrist and ankles. Stay, I told it, if you want to. I noticed similar ribbons that mixed with Liam's inherent magic—darker shades of green and traces of an orange so light it almost passed for yellow.

Everything went quiet.

We'd done it. Oh God, we'd done it.

We were alive, unharmed, together. Gale would be okay. Liam's nightmares had not come to pass.

My knees gave out quite abruptly. I sat, pulled Liam down with me onto the cracked tiles, and rested my forehead against his temple. Breathing. Alive. The wall of fire came down as my magic flowed to us and wrapped me in her warm embrace, briefly startled at the new arrivals before she absorbed them. Glorious silence. How much time had passed? It had felt entirely inconsequential while we'd been caught up in a river of magic—could be minutes or hours.

Gale. I raised my head and found him as if on instinct. He was pale but upright, the sudden, blazing brightness that surrounded him jolting this way and that. I'd have to teach him. Christian too—he looked a second from fainting, propped up by my uncle. My father was staring at me with something like regret in his features, gone as soon as our eyes met. Eleanor's posture conveyed stubborn pride even as the cut on her cheek oozed blood, while the girls looked scared and young.

Also, oh. Archer Summers stood in the broken circle by the entrance, Laurie and Jack behind her. Lila hovered above their heads.

"Well." Summers' voice was crisp. "This is mildly unexpected."

Liam stiffened as though he expected me to pull away. I pressed our shoulders together, elbows touching, and we should get up, right? Only I couldn't make my legs work. "Actually," I told Summers, "I've been meaning to thank you for throwing Liam and me together. It's been a revelation."

"I see." She considered us with just a hint of warmth. "Cassandra Hartley—will this be a problem?"

Right. A keen eye for power dynamics had been essential in her rise to the top.

"Only if her father takes issue with how she loves a weaker mage who doesn't look what they'd consider ‘quintessentially British'," I said.

"I can work with that." Summers nodded briskly and took a step forward, assessing the damage to the floor and one of the columns, thick cracks running along the walls. Then her gaze skimmed over us. I realised that my bare arms showed reddish bruises from where magic had squeezed me in its iron grip. Liam's did too, and there was a pink hue to the side of his throat that made me swallow.

He's okay. We're okay.

"However," Summers continued, "your private lives are not what I came for. Do fill me in, please. Start from when you arrived here."

"I hardly think," Eleanor began, and Summers turned, sudden power radiating off her in waves. This was part of why she ruled over our community—not beloved, not by everyone, but respected even by those who resented the changes she'd brought.

"I did not ask you." Summers' voice cut through the air like a blade. "You may justify your actions later."

My aunt's lips parted before she pressed them tightly together. I glanced at my father who held himself quite still, face blank. Next to him, Gale staggered slightly before he caught himself.

Usually, between Liam and me, I was the one who did the talking. It was my family whose actions had got us here, though, and I didn't know how much he wanted to reveal about himself and what he could do.

"Go ahead," I told him softly. "I've got your back."

He hesitated, eyes on me, before he turned to Archer Summers. "I'd prefer a more private setting, if you don't mind."

"If he intends to accuse us, it's only fair we hear it," Eleanor spoke up while my father shifted uncomfortably and lowered his head.

The look Summers shot her was pure disdain. "Denied."

Eleanor brought a hand to her chest and looked as though she might protest. Then her shoulders dropped by the barest margin. She touched the gash on her cheek and stared at her bloody fingers for a second before turning away. Her voice was quiet as she drew Christian close. "All we intended was to protect our family. We meant no harm."

"Then perhaps you should have considered your actions more carefully beforehand," Summers said. "I expect you to remain at my disposal at a moment's notice."

To my surprise, it was my father who replied in a low, steady voice. "We will be."

"Good." Turning, Summers nodded at Liam and me. "Let's go."

Somehow, I made myself move, rising from the ground before I offered a hand to help Liam up. He grasped my fingers, gasping slightly as he stood, clutching at his ribs.

"What—" I started, and he interrupted me.

"I'm okay. Just bruises, I promise."

I wrapped an arm around his waist. "I swear, if you're lying to me…"

"I'm not." He smiled, so warm and private that it just about took my breath away.

"Okay," I murmured. It was painfully inadequate for the beautiful, bright jumble of emotions that sat in my chest, but those weren't suited for an audience.

Together, we moved to follow Archer Summers, Jack, and Laurie out of the room, Lila trailing us. Briefly, just before we left, I turned to nod at Gale, who sent me the faintest of smiles in response.

I didn't look at anyone else.

* * *

Archer Summers sether teacup down with a delicate clink of porcelain that sounded like an exclamation mark. Outside, the thunderstorm had subsided, gentle rain tinkling against the windows of her study.

"Rumours about the power of ley lines have persisted for centuries," she said. "Just like rumours about families that speak to them in ways others don't. I never gave much credence to the talk, I have to admit."

"Maybe magic is simply different in France?" Liam sounded uncertain, frowning at his herbal tea that he'd barely touched. He wasn't a fan of tea but had been too polite to decline Summers' offer. "And when they tried the same thing here, it was bound to fail."

Well, it hadn't failed entirely—Gale and Christian were much more powerful than they had been. Novas, perhaps, or at the very least upper-level Suns. At what price, though? If Liam hadn't stepped in, the magic would have broken free eventually and raged across the city in its quest to return home. Seated next to him on the sofa, I pressed our knees together.

"Could be." Summers pursed her mouth. "I've heard tales of how the French revolution acted as a catalyst that briefly tore the veil between the mundane and the mystical. There was much upheaval in the magical communities after that. Or perhaps it might have worked here if it had been handled in a rather more careful, less impatient manner. Hard to say."

"So you don't think it's only down to cultural and geographical differences?" Laurie asked, her words and tone selected with far more caution than usual.

"I don't have all the answers, my dear—I merely pretend that I do." Summers picked her cup up once more, studying it with a thoughtful air. "You know, I visited Mexico City many years ago. They draw from thunderstorms, a practice that goes back to Aztec times. Perhaps it helped activate the conduits here."

"I think they weren't conduits so much as traps," Liam said softly. "At first, I thought they were like sockets—if the ley lines are like an electric grid, you know. Now? I think they were more meant to act like…magnets, maybe. Inductors. Built to attract magic and channel it towards the circle in St Paul's."

It aligned with the sense of helpless, claustrophobic confusion I'd felt rolling off the magic gathered in the crypt.

"You may be entirely right," Summers said. "Honestly, I believe it will be many decades yet before we stop discovering new aspects to what we think we know."

"Like how Liam's ability to see magic wasn't affected by the entrapment circle?" I asked. When I blinked, fragments of earlier still flashed behind my lids, a stark contrast to the quiet, peaceful space around us.

"I suspect it might be passive in nature." Summers looked at Liam. "Does it ever run low?"

"No. It doesn't require any energy, it just is." He touched the side of his throat, not for the first time. The gesture made my stomach clench with echoed fear.

I could have lost him. But I hadn't.

"What's going to happen now?" Impatience coloured Jack's question, then he seemed to remember where he was. "Sorry. I mean—I'm just curious."

"Ah, the urgency of youth." A slight smile danced around Summers' eyes. I'd never thought of her as old before, but there was a weariness that briefly hung around her, proof that the events of the last few hours had left an impression. She spoke to Liam more than me. "I hope you'll understand that I will have to put a temporary hold on the Green Horizon Initiative."

"I assumed as much," he said, and I wanted to protest that he shouldn't pay for my family's mistakes. Laurie beat me to it.

"But it's not our fault!"

"It isn't," Summers confirmed. "In fact, this city is in your debt even if we won't exactly advertise that." She nodded at Liam. "Do you believe yourself capable of leading the Initiative alone?"

Instead of giving an immediate answer, he turned and held my gaze. "Are you with me?"

Like he even had to ask.

"Always," I said.

With a small smile, he faced Summers once more. "Then yes, I believe I am."

"Wonderful." Her voice went brisk. "There will be an official line as to what happened—I expect you all to abide by it. Now that we know the signs, it may be harder to replicate a similar situation, but desire for power is a strong motivator."

"Understood," Liam said, while the rest of us nodded.

"Good." She took a sip of tea and set her cup back down with another clink of porcelain. "I am not pleased with Alaric Hartley pitching the concept of the Green Horizon Initiative as a favour to your"—Archer nodded at me—"father. Alaric may not have intended to set this whole thing in motion, but even so, we are meant to be impartial in our roles."

"Have him publicly endorse Cassandra's relationship. It will irk him quite a bit." I'd meant it as more of a joke, something to lighten the mood, but Summers arched a brow and considered me for a long second.

"And what about you?" she asked.

I raised my head. "What about me?"

"You will face scrutiny."

I reached for Liam's hand and smiled. "Let them talk."

"So you've made your decision."

"Yes," I said simply.

"Oh my God," Laurie muttered. "If that's how it's going to be, kill me now." Yet when I glanced over, she was grinning just a little. I winked at her.

"One more thing." Summers' voice took on a serious note. "Make peace with the Ashtons, Adam. The origins of your squabble are perfectly irrelevant to me—we've faced enough distractions."

"I am no longer in a position to speak for the Harrington family," I told her quietly.

"Let your brother drive it, then." Summers fixed me with an expectant look. "He is a powerful mage now. It will be a growth opportunity."

"What about the rest of his family?" Jack asked. "You're not just letting them get away with it, are you?"

Next to me, Liam stifled a sigh. "Jack. Please remember who you're talking to."

"But he's right," Laurie jumped to Jack's defence, and yeah, he was. I ducked my head and studied the polished mahogany surface of the coffee table. Liam's hand squeezed mine even as he stayed silent.

"They will take the blame for a necessary change of leadership in the Green Horizon Initiative," Summers said. "Incompetence, overpromising and underdelivering, poor business conduct. We will also ask them to return the money that's been paid so far, irrespective of whether it has already been spent on contractors and material."

That would hurt, although not enough to financially ruin my family. The public loss of face, however, would strip us—them—of hard-won community standing. Many friends would turn their backs, and invitations to social gatherings would grow rare. They'd have to rebuild our—their reputation from its smouldering ashes. Was it punishment enough?

I didn't care to be the judge of it.

* * *

In the glowof the bedside lamp, the bruises on my arms were already purpling. I dug a thumb into one of them and hissed at the pain. Yeah, all right. It would be a few days before I could try for a modelling gig.

I looked up when the door opened. Even though Liam smiled when he caught sight of me, I suddenly felt self-conscious—naked on top of his bed, the damp air of a post-rain summer evening wafting in through the open window.

"Is this okay?" I asked, voice pitched low so it wouldn't carry beyond his bedroom. "You didn't exactly sign up for an unemployed boyfriend with no family to his name."

Boyfriend. The word tasted strange on my tongue, laughably temporary when the way I felt about him was anything but.

"Adam." Affection coloured the name. He crossed the floor in two quick steps and covered me up. Our bare chests pressed together, the fabric of his pyjama bottoms whispering against my thighs. "It's more than okay. You belong here."

I blinked against the sting of tears and touched the side of his throat, right where a dark spot marred his skin. Words had always come easily to me, yet right now, I had none.

"But are you sure you'll be fine with this?" he asked after a moment, watching me with so much warmth that I found it hard to breathe. "I know my family can be a lot. They won't hold back, now that you're one of us."

"They're great," I told him. "I wouldn't change them for the world."

His eyes crinkled at the corners. "Let's see how you feel once Laurie and Jack include you in one of their comedy routines. Though I guess that if we need some privacy, we can always escape to your flat for a day or two."

I combed a hand through his hair and let the corners of my mouth tug up. "My flat?"

"Ours," he corrected.

I kissed him because I could. Because we were alive and together, because I loved him. Because I'd made my choice. Because I was his and he was mine.

I kissed him because I'd found home, and it was him.