CHAPTER TWENTY
*~~~**~~~*
Jameson Wicket
*~~~**~~~*
18th of Decepter, 935 PC
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“Reckon you got the nicest room in this place,” Wicket said, turning his head sideways on the pillow to see Lily better. Her green eyes met him like a spring day but her hair was dark as night. The first time he’d seen the black lines she liked to draw on her eyes he’d made the mistake of telling her it made her look scary. She didn’t mind though, just smiled and laughed it off like she did with most things.
“Yes, I hear this is luxury in Thronerock,” she said in the smooth, deep accent Serelley women often had. She lay on her side, covered by coarse sheets up to her chest. She’d propped her head up on a hand as she used her long nails to scratch his bare back gently. There was something special about the side of her leg pressing against his own.
“Damn right it’s luxury. Two windows and not a single crack anywhere to be found. And your chandelier is still hangin’. Orin must have thought ya was pretty.”
She left him wanting her nails back on his skin as she ran her hand through her hair. The jewelry she was so fond of but never flaunted dangled from her wrist. “Orin is old enough to be my grandfather.”
“Don’t mean he doesn’t like the look of a pretty lady like you.”
She rolled her eyes and he shut his. Three hells, he was tired. Both from his trip with Alaric and from spending an hour with Lily when she was in one of those moods. Boy did she know what she liked and she got it when she wanted it. There was something smooth like butter when they got together. Not procedural like Iris had called it. He’d never heard the word before she said it, but he knew what it meant right away. No, Lily wasn’t anything like that. She was almost more than he could handle with her youth, but he loved the challenge. She had him all over the bed, every angle and position she could come up with. Some he worked well in, some he was too uncomfortable to stay in for very long.
“Let’s not go to Locke.” She brought herself closer. Every time she cuddled up next to him she reminded him of a warm blanket on an autumn evening.
“Wish it was that easy, but I don’t got much of a choice, do I?” Did he ever? A man caught between two forces the empires had never seen made about as many of his own choices as a newborn babe.
“A man like you. You can convince anyone of anything. Just walk Alaric out into the trees and… you know.”
“I can’t kill Alaric.”
“Why not? He’s terrible to you. And don’t get me started on what he did to me.”
Lily wouldn’t be fighting for Alaric’s cause if he hadn’t bought her from her father. Being the good man he was, he'd decided to make it look like he’d forced her parents into sending her off with a group of fellas with bad intentions so there were no hard feelings amongst the Patticks. See, deep down Alaric just wanted what was best for all Purists, but that meant forcing some of them to do things they didn’t want to do. In Lily’s case it left her wanting him dead. It’d been Wicket that talked her down. Wicket did a lot of work behind the scenes for Alaric that he never got much credit for but he always just considered it his way of paying the man back.
“Alaric took me in when I had nowhere else to go. And if making a man’s life terrible is how we’re judging people, then I ain’t got a leg to stand on. Reckon there’s thousands of people feeling that way because of me.”
Her lips grazed the day-old stubble along his jaw. He was glad to be rid of the beard that had overrun his face on the road. Made it easier to feel her soft lips on his skin again.
“All that matters is how you make one woman feel now,” she said.
“How’d ya go and get so sweet, Lily Pattick?” She was more than he deserved. Much more. A damn near perfect woman. A heart full of love and a sense of humor that had never heard a bad joke. Thoughtful and caring too. Sometimes she’d know how he felt before he could figure out how to put it into words. He’d just stare at her in those moments, waiting for her to fix things.
She slid herself even further into the little space between them, tucking her face close to his neck. Her breast pressed against him, a little less enjoyable with the rough sheets scratching at his skin but still a wonder of the world. “Mother dipped me in sugar when I was a little girl.”
Wicket clamped his chin to the top of her head and frowned. He missed his own mum so much he could hardly bear it. Last time he saw her she’d told him she loved him and he’d been in too big a rush to stop and say it back. Just gave her a wave and ran back to the stagecoach. What happened after that… well… He rubbed Lily’s arm, hoping to distract himself. Her skin was as soft and perfect as the first snow in winter. Almost as cold too. He’d never met a woman whose skin wasn’t frigid more often than not. Course, he’d only ever cared to notice with two of them.
“Let’s not go,” she said. “Between the two of us we could get back to my father’s manor without any problems. He’ll protect us.”
“I’d like that,” he said. “But I reckon it ain’t fair for me to let everyone else clean up a mess I made.”
She rolled away from him, trying to look stern but failing. “You didn’t do any of that. She’s the one who started this purge. She’s the one who used you. You wouldn’t have done any of that if it weren’t for her.”
“Lily-”
“No. I don’t want to hear it again. It’s not your fault. Do you hear me?” He gave her his best smile, knowing she meant well but didn’t have the whole story. “Good. Now roll over.” He did as he was told.
She ripped the sheets off both of them and climbed on top of him. She ran her finger along a scar on his ribs as she let ends of her hair tickle his chest. She could touch him in all the right ways, without the hours of practice Iris insisted on. He was thankful for that; talking it out had always gotten the blood flowing in the wrong direction. Right about the time he was longing for Lily’s lips, she moved in on him, lowering herself just enough to tease him. A skim here, another there. He wanted to grab her face and pull her to him, but instead he ran his hands along her thighs until he held her tiny waist firmly. She got right up on his ear and nibbled at the lobe. “You’re nothing like her,” she whispered. “You’re a kind-hearted man, Jameson Wicket. A good man. Full of love.” She slid her cheek along his until their lips were locked tight.
“I missed you,” he said between kisses.
“I missed you too.”
“I couldn’t - stop - thinkin’ - about - you.”
Lily’s hand was halfway to his crotch. “Me too.”
He grabbed her wrist and their eyes met, fiery passion burning between them.
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“I love you,” he said. For the first time.
She didn’t hesitate. “I love you too.” She practically dove for his lips. He rolled her onto her back and climbed on top of her, careful not to crush the flower beneath him. She looked up at him, breathing hard and biting her bottom lip. “Let’s not go.” This time she was begging him.
“We have to.”
It was she who waited in silence for him to fix things now.
“Help me get Alaric into the university. Reckon he has to find her lab. That’s all. Then we’ll slip away in the night. Head off to your pa’s place in White Hall.” They stared for just a moment before she smiled and pulled his face to hers.
*~~~**~~~*
The snow left the pub emptier than a barrel of ale during the new year. Only Thronerock’s finest had walked through the ankle deep blanket to spend their evening with gin and brandy and most of the other Purists Alaric had rounded up were in their rooms. However, the Ambrose girls and Kovey Walber were tucked away in a booth in the corner. The worn out one kept filling the pub with her cackle every so often and Walber would glance around hoping no one was bothered by it.
That poor fella didn’t have any magic left in him so he’d gone and dressed himself up as nice and handsome as he could get. He’d been a shapeshifter once upon a time but he’d liked who he could become more than who he was and that left him with having to change himself a different way. Not his fault entirely, the power of having magic at your fingertips could make you do some mighty foolish things for no other reason than you could.
The Patterson brothers sat on the other side of the horseshoe-shaped bar that filled much of the room. Lace Patterson had walked right out of one of the folktales told around campfires. His face was a good blend of handsome and rugged and his short black hair looked like it’d be done by a group of servants. He had a pelt cloak that could make a king green with jealousy and a sword that could cut the world in half. The only thing he’d talked about so far this evening was how much he hated Lotus and while that was to be expected around here, his tone made Wicket uncomfortable. The younger Patterson had some kind of name that didn’t sound like a name at all; Asp or Ask. Something silly. He was a good-looking fella too but in a whole different way. He was prettier than some of the women Wicket had slept with over the years with his blonde hair that laid on his shoulders and softer features than Lily. He’d never swung a sword, that much was obvious, but according to Alaric, the slender blonde was something as impressive as The Creator herself. He’d left it at though, with Wicket drooling for more details.
“So, what can we expect in Locke?” Lily asked Wicket, then covered her mouth and burped as quietly as she could. Her giggle warmed his heart. Her stool sat far enough away that the love between them was stretched too thin to see. Wicket wasn’t a smart man, far from it, but it didn’t take smarts to know not everyone liked him and he had no interest in putting Lily in a position to be the way someone hurt him.
“Aye,” Lace said from across the bar, lowering his mug and staring at Wicket. There was suspicion in his eyes but Wicket couldn’t tell if they were always like that or if Lace knew something about his past. “I think we’d all like to hear about Locke.”
A few commoners that had never gone any farther than the walk across the field to the pub nodded their heads in agreement. Like their opinions mattered much to any of the Purists.
“Well,” Wicket said, louder than he’d expected. He took a second to get his voice under control. “I reckon I don’t know much about it anymore.” He stuffed his mouth full of roasted pig and stared at his plate.
“Come on, Wicket,” Lace said, a little louder and firmer. “Don’t keep secrets.”
“No secrets here,” Wicket said, not looking up from his plate. “Just haven’t been there in awhile. Heard it’s all turned upside down and uglier than it used to be.”
“You think that old cunt you used to fuck might have had something to do with that?” Lace said. Wicket knew he couldn’t swing a sword well enough to break a thick skull like Lace’s anymore, but he didn’t need to, he could slide a dagger right across his thick, beefy throat while the warrior just smiled away at him. And boy would the feelings in his belly like that but Alaric wouldn’t and that was always an important thing to consider.
“Probably,” Wicket said, trying to give Lily that look he gave her when he wanted her to fix things for him. She missed it.
Lace kept going. “I’d say the chances are better than probably. That bitch has the whole empire looking upside down and ugly. I plan on making her pay for it too.”
“Charge her good,” Wicket said. “She’s got the Leos for it.”
Some of the commoners laughed at that but not Lace. He just sharpened his eyes like knives and stuck them through Wicket’s chest.
“You like your jokes, don’t ya?” Lace said. “Makes sense with you being the biggest joke of ‘em all.”
“That’s fair,” Wicket said. “Reckon I’d much rather make people laugh than slit their throats.” He said it softly but there was enough weight in his tone that the words didn’t make it over the asshole’s head.
“You use that magic of yours on me and it’ll be the last time you ever use it,” Lace said.
“Can’t argue with that,” Wicket said. “Last time I’d ever need it.”
Lace stood.
There was a clank of cutlery hitting a plate. Wicket looked up to see Lily standing and glaring at Lace.
“What, sweetheart? You think better of this schlub?” Lace said.
“I think you’re a prick, that’s what I think,” Lily said. She opened her mouth again but Wicket’s hand stopped her.
He stared Lace right in those daggers he called eyes. “Look, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be threatening nobody. Reckon we’re all here to get the same job done. When it’s all said and done, if ya wanna kick my ass for what I’ve done in the past go ahead. Ya won’t hear no complaints from me. Lords know I deserve it. But until then, why don’t ya just drink your ale and eat your pork. Alright?”
Lace lifted his mug to his mouth and gulped down what was left. He beckoned a waitress over with a growl, never taking his eyes off Wicket. Wouldn’t be too hard to guess he was probably thinking about what all he’d do to Wicket when it was all said and done. Wicket sure was.
“Well,” Orin Rockhide said from the middle of the bar. “Who wants some more pig?!” His long, white beard swayed back and forth on his chest as he looked around at his customers. He was a big man that had curled up on himself over the years like he’d lifted one too many heavy things. Maybe that was why he ran an inn and roasted pigs for a living these days.
On a good day, Wicket would have stayed and talked with Orin for hours as he got drunk. But tonight, he just stood up quietly and looked at Lily. “Can I talk to ya for a minute?” He said it like a man that didn’t love anything, especially not the woman he was walking off with.
She was still steaming as they walked onto the back porch of the inn. “What an ass.”
“Aye,” Wicket said, having already moved on. Mostly. He’d been in plenty worse scrapes than that. He was just glad he didn’t have to use his magic on anyone. He let the door close behind them before he spoke. “I need t’tell ya somethin’ Lily.” He’d been meaning to tell her for weeks but they’d gotten lost in each other pretty quick after they met and no one talks business with butterflies in their bellies. Then he left for Coyne with Alaric and the boys and, well, he just hadn’t had a chance to tell her yet. It all felt rushed and sloppy right now but he couldn’t take a chance of putting it off again. Who knew if he’d get her alone again before they left for Locke and once they were on the road Alaric would want Lily’s intuition by his side and Wicket far from it.
“What is it?” Lily said annoyedly.
Wicket took a glance around the snow-covered field, making sure no ears were listening to them. “Your magic is gonna sense somethin’ real dangerous when we get to the laboratory.”
“I’d think so. We’ll be knee deep in Lotus, won’t we?”
“Aye, but I reckon it’s gonna feel a little different than Lotus. It’s important ya don’t mention it to Alaric when we stumble upon it.”
“What are you saying?”
“Exactly what I said.” He leaned in closer. “Ya can’t tell him. It’ll be best for all of us. Promise.”
“You know I don’t love the man, but how is letting something terrible catch him off guard good for us?”
“Just trust me. If ya don’t tell him you’ll make it back to your family a whole lot quicker than if ya do.”
Just as he said it, the backdoor opened. He turned to see a chubby little thing standing in the light of the pub and holding the door open with one of her pudgy hands. She had wavy black hair like his own but quite a bit longer and a smile sent from the heavens. The dimples in her round cheeks made her so cute he thought he might burst with happiness.
“Cora!” he said and bent down to pick her up. He kissed her face until she was laughing so hard he thought she’d choke. “How are ya princess?”
“Hungry.”
He could only imagine how angry Iris would be if she knew her daughter spent more time playing cards in a pub than reading books in some school. He reckoned she’d be furious when she found out the girl couldn’t read at all. “We oughta get ya fed then, ay?” Cora smiled and pointed at the pig spinning on its spit.
He glanced back at Lily. “You got a little sister about this age don’t ya?” She nodded. “Do as I said and you’ll see her real soon.” He headed inside.