Beholden Read online

  I cleared my throat. “What is it you need?”

  The agents exchanged a look. Then Caldwell handed Dreswick a file folder. Dreswick reached inside and extracted a picture. He handed it to me.

  “That’s Mason Roberts. We need to find him.”

  I returned the picture once I had the man’s image firmly fixed in my mind. I went about setting up the necessary items for scrying. Even though I’d been on my way home, I didn’t think either man would be willing to wait until tomorrow. They were here for a reason.

  “What has he done?” I asked as I filled my favorite bowl with distilled water.

  “Nothing,” Dreswick answered calmly. “But he’s disappeared and we believe he might be in danger. We need to locate him as quickly as possible.”

  I nodded and started to light the candles. Dreswick looked at me curiously while I fumbled with the matches, then he gave me a nice smile, waved his hand, and muttered a few choice words. The wicks burst into flame all at once, the scent of wax heavy in the air for a moment.

  “Thank you,” I murmured. I flipped off the light switch, plunging the room into the semi-darkness I needed for working. I took a deep breath to settle into the right head space and sat behind my desk. Caldwell ambled closer and I felt the low hum of whatever electronic device he had in his pocket.

  “Please turn off any phone or other device you may have,” I requested.

  Dreswick immediately reached into his pocket, extracted his cell, and shut it off. Caldwell arched a brow in question.

  I tried for a smile. “They interfere with my magic. And I’ve been known to inadvertently wipe them. It’d be in your best interest.”

  Caldwell regarded me for a long moment, and I barely managed to keep my reaction from showing. His piercing blue eyes seemed to stare right into me. He was so handsome. I licked my suddenly dry lips. Then he turned away to comply with my request, and I blew out a relieved breath. His stare was unnerving, but not altogether unwelcome. Part of me enjoyed being at the center of his undivided attention.

  Even with the devices off, a hum of energy remained. Puzzled, I squinted at the agents, trying to figure out where it was coming from. Unable to sort it out, I gave a half shrug and focused my attention on the bowl. The water was still and smooth, nary a ripple to be seen. Perfect. Gathering my magic, I brought the image of Mason Roberts to the forefront of my mind. When I was certain I knew for whom I was looking, I released the magic into the bowl, letting it fill the water with my will.

  Slowly, the picture came into view. I frowned at the bowl and concentrated harder, forcing more will into the magic. Distance didn’t matter to me; I could find anyone anywhere on the planet. But the image before me remained murky. I could make out Roberts, but details were fuzzy. If I hadn’t seen this man’s picture, I wouldn’t have been able to discern who I was looking at. When I’d first learned scrying, I’d had trouble making the picture clear. Like twiddling with the dial on a radio to get a clear station, I’d had to learn how to finesse my magic to tune into the picture. I hadn’t had so much trouble tuning an image since I’d mastered the art years ago.

  Frowning harder, I pushed more of my will into the bowl. More magic, more will, that’s what I needed. I was the best, and this shouldn’t be so hard for me. It had been a long day and I’d used a lot of my magic, but that shouldn’t have mattered. I was Beholden to scrying, and even though no one had an endless reserve of magic, I shouldn’t have needed to recharge my magical battery yet. I should have been able to do this without much effort. But the difficulty wasn’t going to stop me. I pushed further, watched the details resolve a little more clearly, and knew I had to push even harder.

  Suddenly, I felt hands on my face and I could distantly hear Dreswick calling my name. I let the magic go, and blinked. Caldwell had moved into my personal space, was holding my cheeks in his hands, and peering intently into my eyes. I couldn’t help the goofy smile that stretched my lips. I was exhausted and that always made me a little loopy.

  Gods, Caldwell was pretty. I wish I knew his first name. I licked my lips and stared at him, wanting to lean closer. I wanted to feel his mouth pressed to mine, his body tight against me. I was only a few inches shorter and I knew we would line up just right, all the important parts touching, rubbing. I think I gave a little moan.

  Dreswick’s voice finally penetrated into my tired and lust-filled haze.

  “…the bruises were popping up on your skin. Are you taxed? Should we come back?”

  I blinked and tried to shake my head, but Caldwell held my face securely. I swallowed hard. “What?”

  “Mr. Thomas, it’s important that we find Mason Roberts, but not at a detriment to you. If you’ve already expended your magic for the day and need to recharge, we can come back,” Dreswick said, not unkindly.

  I frowned, my brow creasing in confusion. Then I gently extricated myself from Caldwell’s hold and turned to face the other man. I shook my head, trying to sort out my thoughts.

  “I don’t usually need to recharge, even after a day of working,” I said. It took me a minute to work things out, my brain a bit sluggish and slow. “This Roberts guy must have known someone would be looking for him. He’s blocking the scrying. He must have a hell of a lot of power to be able to stop me from breaking through.”

  The agents exchanged another look, once again having a silent conversation. After a few long seconds, Dreswick nodded. “We’re under the impression he does indeed have a vast amount of power. Perhaps if we come back in the morning, when you’re at full capacity, you can break through.”

  I shook my head. “I was almost there. I just need a little boost, I think.”

  Both men nodded.

  “One of us can augment your power easily enough. Got a preference as to which?” Dreswick asked.

  “Agent Caldwell,” I answered, the words out of my mouth before my brain had a chance to think things through. I barely held back the groan. Gods knew that was a bad idea. Would I even be able to concentrate at all with the man’s hands on my skin? But his hum of energy resonated well with my magic. Caldwell was actually the best choice. And I could be professional.

  Caldwell stared at me, his blank face a mask.

  I quickly added, “If that’s all right?”

  Another moment of silence passed before Caldwell gave a single nod. He removed his jacket and handed it to his partner. I gulped. The buttoned-down shirt fairly strained at the seams to contain his shoulders. I averted my gaze. Broad, strong shoulders had always done it for me. I kept my attention fixed on the bowl before me as Caldwell moved in behind me.

  “How do you want to do this?” His deep voice resonated in my chest and skittered down my spine. I couldn’t quite contain the shiver of pleasure. Oh gods, what had I just gotten myself into?

  Chapter 2

  As attracted as I was to Agent Caldwell, I knew it would be difficult not to show my reaction once he had his hands on me. And he would have to touch me. Bare skin to bare skin. It was the only way for the power to flow from him into me. I stared at my hands for a long moment, watching as the bruises bloomed, a physical side effect to overusing one’s magic. Cells started to break down at the molecular level. For most practitioners, this meant overwhelming fatigue and dark, red-purple bruises. Thank the gods they didn’t hurt. And both the tiredness and the coloration faded completely once a practitioner recharged.

  The fact that my skin was already bruising meant I was at my limit. Magic was a finite but renewable source. I didn’t have time to recharge with the usual methods—meditation and rest, pulling on the natural magic of the elements. I needed a power boost if I was going to get this done. With that in mind, I sat up a little straighter and motioned to the back of my neck—the one part of my skin that was uncovered. In my peripheral vision, I saw Caldwell nod before he moved out of my line of sight. A moment later, his big hand gently cupped the back of my neck.

  His fingers were so warm. It took a fair amount of willpower not to sink
back into that heat and beg him to massage my tired muscles. I was willing to bet he’d be excellent at it. I could feel the strength in his fingers, could feel the calluses on the tips that told me he worked with his hands. For a split second, I was ready to beg him to touch me with intent.

  Behind me, Caldwell cleared his throat. “Ready?” he rumbled.

  I made myself murmur an agreeable noise and steeled myself for the onslaught of his power. Even if he was practiced in the art of sharing his magic with others, that first jolt would be a shock. I’d never liked it when another practitioner had to augment my magic with their own. It was a distinctly uncomfortable feeling. Even knowing Caldwell’s magic resonated with mine, and it would therefore be easier to meld them together, I had to force myself not to grimace in anticipation.

  Caldwell was good. I had to give him that. The first push of his magic into me was like a tender probing finger. Easy, delicate touches, gently feeling its way. He gave me time to adjust, and only when he sensed I was ready did he give me more. His power flowed into me, slow and steady, until all I could feel was him, his magic filling me to the brim. I had to breathe deeply, the sensations overwhelming for a moment, until finally, I felt like he was a part of me. We were no longer two separate entities, but one singular magic source. I relaxed into it and sighed in relief.

  “All right?” Caldwell asked, his voice no more than a whisper and his lips close to my ear.

  I shuddered in pleasure. “Yes.”

  It took me another few seconds to get myself focused, but once I did, I gathered all the magic within me—both Caldwell’s and mine—and willed it into the water. It took less than a minute for the picture to resolve, clear as day. Mason Roberts was pacing, his mouth pulled into a frown, his reddish-brown hair sticking up at odd angles as though he’d been running his fingers through it. His brown eyes darted around nervously and, every few seconds, he’d pull his bottom lip between his teeth, and chew on it for a moment before letting it go.

  “Can you see?” I asked quietly.

  Caldwell leaned closer, his torso pressing against my upper arm and shoulder. His hand slid higher on my neck, into my hair. Was he caressing my scalp? My concentration wavered, and with it the picture in the bowl. I took a deep breath, centered myself, and brought the image back into focus.

  For long moments, we stared into the bowl. The obviously scared and worried man captivated me. Agent Dreswick had said he was in danger, and clearly Mason Roberts knew it. I wanted to reach through the water and offer him a hand. I wanted to let him know he wasn’t alone. But all I could do was hope he gave us something to indicate where he was hiding so the agents could help him.

  Suddenly, Caldwell’s fingers tightened on my scalp, digging in and pulling on my hair a little. I gasped, the sensation shooting a new shock of lust through my veins. Caldwell didn’t seem to notice.

  “Got it,” he said, his voice soft but triumphant. After another moment, his lips brushed the shell of my ear as he said, “You can let it go now.”

  I really didn’t want to. More than the wonderful feeling of Caldwell’s magic filling me and not wanting to lose that, a part of me thought that severing this connection with Mason meant that he would be truly alone. Only he had no idea I was watching. He had, in fact, taken pains to keep anyone from being able to scry for him. He was so scared that he didn’t want to be found. Me keeping an eye on him wouldn’t change that.

  It still took a great deal of effort to let the image fade. Slowly, like a dying television, the picture got fuzzier until nothing remained. I released the last bit of will and the water went completely clear.

  “I’m going to pull out now,” Caldwell said, his tone low. “I’ll go slow.”

  Even though it was the last thing I wanted, I made myself nod.

  It was easier going out than going in. Little by little, Caldwell pulled back his magic. Bit by bit, I felt it leave me. I actually whimpered when it was gone. I felt empty, like I was missing a vital part of me. Slumping forward on the desk, I buried my face in my hands and tried to control my erratic breathing. I was being ridiculous. I knew it, and I still couldn’t seem to stop it. I was bereft of something amazing, and I really wanted to cry.

  “Julian?” Dreswick called. “Are you all right?”

  “Yes.” I wasn’t, not really. Caldwell’s magic had complimented mine so well it was as though he was truly a part of me. I knew I was overtired, and that always made me a little loopy and emotional. I just needed to go home, sleep for twelve straight hours, and have a big breakfast. Then I would be fine.

  I turned my attention to Caldwell and tried not to remember that I found him so attractive. “Did you get what you needed?”

  “Yes,” he bit out, a little tersely. My eyes widened as his ice blue gaze assessed me. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

  “I just need to get home. If I can make it to my car, that is.”

  My attempt at humor fell flat on my audience, so I gave a weak chuckle and stood. I wobbled a little, and had to grab the edge of the desk to remain upright. Caldwell stepped closer, but I held up my hand to ward him off. I couldn’t be responsible for my actions if he touched me again, magic flowing between us or not.

  “I’m glad I could assist you,” I said to the agents in what I hoped was a professional but dismissive manner. When neither man made a move to exit, I sighed before I could stop myself. “If you’ll excuse me, I really need to get home.”

  “I’ll take you.”

  Shocked by the announcement, I spun so fast to face Caldwell, I nearly fell over. Only my grip on the desk kept me from tumbling to the floor. It didn’t go unnoticed by either agent, and both started insisting.

  “I’m fine!” I shouted, louder than I’d intended. Heat swarmed up my cheeks but I pretended I wasn’t likely turning red. I sucked in a silent breath and continued in a much more appropriate tone. “Really, I’m fine. I’ll see myself home. Goodnight.”

  Before I could put away my things, Caldwell stepped into my personal space. The extra three inches he had on me were enough to intimidate, especially combined with the breadth of his shoulders. His hand cupped my elbow as he leaned in.

  “I’m taking you home.” His voice brooked no disagreement. “Dreswick will put away your things and make sure your office is secure.”

  “I have to set the wards,” I protested weakly with a shake of my head. Caldwell’s eyes narrowed and I tried to make my voice firmer. “I’m particular about where things go.”

  He considered me for a moment before his face softened. He wouldn’t be considered classically handsome, but his features fascinated me. When he spoke, my gaze dropped to his lips. Gods, I wanted to know what they felt like on mine.

  “All right, then. You sit here and let us put away your things, under your direction. Then you can ward the door and I’ll take you home.”

  I wanted to protest again but I got the distinct impression that no matter what I said, Caldwell would end up winning. I was too tired to argue anymore. I just wanted to go home. And if I had to agree to make that happen, then I would. I really did appreciate their concern. And if I was completely honest with myself, I shouldn’t be driving in the state I was in.

  But still, I was reluctant. I didn’t know either of them, hadn’t met them before today, and it seemed like too big a leap to just give them my trust. In the end, it was only the fact that they worked for the same organization that I did, that they had the blessings of the director—a woman whom I respected and trusted immensely—that made it a bit easier. If the director had given them carte blanche, then I could believe they were trustworthy. I studied Caldwell for a long moment, trying to get a read on him. He was silently watching me, but I could tell he was making an effort to show me his true face. In the end, the pros outweighed the cons. I still scribbled a note to Lena about what was going on and sent it through the tubes before I agreed with a short nod.

  The agents were efficient. They packed away my favorite bowl in the cu
rio cabinet exactly as I would have done it, placed just so on the shelf before the doors were locked. Dreswick snuffed out the candles with a wave of his hand. For about thirty seconds, we were in complete darkness. I knew I imagined the feel of fingers running lightly over my hair.

  The overhead lights came on, and Caldwell offered his hand. I ignored it, using the arms of the chair to push myself into a standing position. A wave of dizziness washed over me and I squeezed my eyes shut. Caldwell hovered—I could feel the heat of his body—but I ignored that, too.

  I took slow and careful steps to the door. I slipped into my lightweight jacket, but when I reached for my satchel, Caldwell beat me to it, slinging it easily over his shoulder. Dreswick led the way out the door, and Caldwell gave me a gentle nudge with his hand on the small of my back to follow.

  I locked the door with the key, then placed my hand on the smooth wood. I barely had any magic reserve left, and I almost couldn’t get the ward to seal. I managed it in the end, and had to lean heavily against the jamb as another wave of dizziness threatened to send me to my knees. When Caldwell once again took my elbow, I didn’t protest.

  The flight of stairs up to the ground level left me winded, and by the time we reached the lobby, I was ready to curl up in a corner and sleep. But Caldwell gently pulled me along, leading me outside into the fresh, cool night air. I breathed deeply, soaking it in, absorbing a bit of the energy that flowed everywhere to strengthen me. I’d fortunately found a parking spot close to the door when I’d arrived—gods, was it four days ago now? It didn’t matter. I was going home to my nice warm bed. Maybe I’d take tomorrow off.

  Caldwell didn’t say much as we got into my car. Sitting on the passenger side was a foreign experience for me, but I was so exhausted it barely registered. I mumbled out directions—I wasn’t even sure if they were coherent—but Caldwell seemed to get the gist. He put the car into drive, and headed in the right direction.