The Wizard King (20 page)

As long as she returned, he’d eventually learn to deal with it. It wouldn’t be easy. He’d need his family around him, supporting him. The fear would eat him alive, and without them he’d become a serious asshole.

“What can I do to make this easier on you? Is there a something I can do so you know I’m safe? I don’t want you to fear for me.”

She didn’t sound resentful of his need to keep her safe, and for that he kissed her.

She blinked up at him, her expression both startled and a little aroused. “What was that for?”

“Understanding me.” He kissed her again, loving how soft and pliant she became in his arms. His mate was a badass warlock hunter, but with him, she was the gentle mate he so desperately needed. “There has to be some compromise on both sides. As much as I hate it, this is what you do. I get that. I just…”

“There’s one thing I can think of that might work.” She tapped her fingers on his stomach. “Maybe if I go hunting only when the Goddess directs me?”

He blinked. “You’ve gone after warlocks without Her direction?”

Gen nodded. “Yes. If I suspect I’ve got a demonic warlock, I’ll investigate on my own. I’ll only call on my powers as an Own once I’m ready to confront him, much like I did with my father. But…” She bit her lip. “I’m the queen-consort of the wizard court now. I’m thinking my investigating days are over.”

“If the Goddess sends you personally, I’ll have no choice but to accept it. There’s no way I’d fight one of Her commands.” Hell, he’d go with Gen just to make sure she stayed safe. Having a werewolf guard your back could be a good thing for an Own, right? And if she refused to allow him to tag along?

It wouldn’t be the first time he’d been forced to stalk his prey and camp out in his fur.

“Then we have a compromise?” She leaned on his chest and gazed at him with such a hopeful expression he had no choice but to agree.

“I think so.”

“Good.” She sagged back down in relief. “Then all we need to do now is stop Hugh and Arthur, starting with Hugh. That one I know my Goddess wants me to deal with personally.”

Damn. And here he’d been hoping he could pass it on to some other Own. “We also need to replace the council. Any suggestions?”

“I think your mother would be an excellent candidate.”

He snorted in amusement. “She’ll certainly keep them on their toes. Hell, if I could put Annabelle on the council I’d do it in a heartbeat.”

“If the rest of the court would accept it, I’d agree. But they’d never tolerate a non-wizard on the council. I’m certain I would not even be welcome as your consort.” She drew abstract patterns on his skin, distracting him. “But no one said you couldn’t name her an advisor of some sort, especially if you and Prince Roland go through with an alliance.”

“That’s an excellent idea.” He could imagine what havoc Annabelle would inflict on the bitches who’d given Gen such a hard time. It would be like the iceberg plotting the death of the Titanic. Vivian would go down faster than Leonardo DiCaprio.

“She might say no. She has her own coven to run in Philadelphia, and that takes a great deal of time and energy.”

“So? Welcome to the Internet age. We can Skype, and if she’s some sort of ambassador rather than an advisor or a council member, her duties should be fairly light.” That wasn’t a big deal, not for him, anyway. He doubted it would be for Annabelle, either.

“True.” Her fingers dancing on his skin were beginning to drive him insane. “Who else should be on the council?”

“Chris. He’s got a level head, a mate who’s not a wizard, and I trust his judgment. Best of all, he’s not afraid to call me on my bullshit. Besides, it’s about time we had more men on the council.” It would mean moving Chris and Lana to New York, but he bet he could talk them into it. Chris would be thrilled to be closer to his family, and he could always telecommute. Besides, if all of the Beckett boys were in New York his parents would either move as well or allow them to take the design business toward a virtual office.

They’d make it work, somehow. He’d discuss it with his father, but he desperately wanted his brothers nearby.

“You’ll need nonfamily members, or you’ll get rumblings in the court of nepotism.” She frowned thoughtfully. “Keep Lillian Fletcher.” Before he could protest, she put her fingers over his lips. “She’s impartial, refused to back down when the council made a fuss about me being crowned, but followed the law when the council insisted on reviewing my suitability without committing to anything.”

“I’ll think about it.” True, Lillian Fletcher had done all of that, but the fact that she
had
agreed to review Gen’s suitability bothered him tremendously. “What about Mac?”

She laughed. “He’ll turn you down flat. He loves being your steward.”

“You think so?” Shit. He couldn’t think of anyone else he trusted enough to become council members. Maybe he could ask his family for some recommendations, or Mac. Surely his steward would know who he could rely on.

“If there were a wizard Own, I’d suggest that person, but I’m not aware of any.”

“As far as I know there isn’t one currently. We could check the Registry, see if one is hiding out there.” The Registry of Wizards, Witches and Warlocks was essentially the directory of all magics in the world. Each copy was magically tied to a Master Registry and updated when the Master updated.

How the Master was updated was unknown. Some said one man was responsible, a scribe, priest or even a librarian who somehow magically knew when someone was born, died, or had children, and added the information to the registry. Others said it was secreted away in some far-off monastery, staffed by members of all three magical persuasions, all of them responsible for keeping the book updated. Still others believed the book updated when it needed to, with no interference from the mortals who referenced it or the person or persons who guarded it. All Gareth could say for certain was that it was possible to fuck with it, a feat that most considered impossible. The Godwins had managed to keep their warlock status obfuscated for years before Gareth and his brothers had finally uncovered it. It could have gone on unnoticed, if not for Cole’s vendetta and the wizard court’s decision to hide their choice of heir from both families. And because the courts hadn’t given a damn about each other, the Godwins’ deception had continued until Zach and Lana had nearly died.

The wizards needed an Own, someone who could work with the court, keep it safe from warlocks. He trusted his brother and Gen, but Zach was a part of the witch court now, and Gen needed to keep her pretty ass out of trouble. “I know how a warlock becomes an Own, and a witch. What about a wizard?”

“Why, are you thinking of applying for the job?”

“The thought crossed my… Did I say that out loud?”

She giggled. “Yes, you did. And no, it wouldn’t work like that. You’re either born an Own, or you’re not. Accepting it is just part of the process. And you, my king, are not an Own or you would never have been accepted by Her as king.”

“Why not? I think you’re going to make an excellent queen.”

“But I won’t rule. An Own needs to be free to chase down the bad guys. A king doesn’t have that freedom. As your queen, I can move about far more freely than you can.”

“This isn’t chess, Gen.”

“No. It isn’t a game, but it’s the truth.”

He hated it that she was right. “Then how does a wizard become an Own?”

She shrugged. “From what I understand, a wizard Own must perform a specific ritual during the dark of the moon, one that allows the connection to the Goddess to fully manifest, but I’ve never seen or read the ritual. I’m not sure what it entails, but I’m pretty sure it’s elaborate, considering how seriously you wizards take your rituals.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised. Without ritual, nothing works for a wizard.”

“There
must
be a wizard Own out there somewhere. Perhaps more than one. There are usually more of us than this.”

“Zach is the only witch Own we’re aware of.” And that was odd, now that his mate brought it up. “You’re right. There should be more.”

She nodded. “Just as there should be more warlock Own. It’s difficult to be accepted by the Goddess, but the ritual doesn’t kill the warlock. If they are turned down, if they don’t have that spark of the divine, they are merely told no. At that point they choose a different power source. Most who try to prove they are Own and fail usually pick an elemental path, or try to connect with the God if they feel they do have that spark.”

“Perhaps that’s what’s going on. More are turning to Him than Her?”

She shook her head. “We’re all still Own. There
should
be more, both the Lord’s and the Lady’s.”

“Then that’s the third thing we need to work on. What the fuck has happened to the Own?”

“One thing at a time, love. You deal with the council, I’ll deal with Hugh. We’ll deal with that issue afterward.”

Gareth barely heard her over his racing heart. She’d said it. She’d said it, even if it was in an offhand, absent tone, and he wanted to howl his delight.

She’d said the L word, and damn if he didn’t plan on holding her to it.

“This is all your fault.”

Gen ground her teeth together as yet another ex-council member tried to confront her. It had been going on all day and she was becoming sick of it. If one more of them cornered her in the hotel’s hallways she going to rip into them à la Gareth, complete with f-bombs and bared teeth. She had things to do, damn it. Zach had worn himself out hunting for Hugh, and Gen had tried, and failed, to rest. She just couldn’t sleep with the threat of Hugh looming over Gareth.

The vision of his soul being sucked out by Hugh’s dagger haunted her every time she closed her eyes. Even staring at the shadow wolf on top of her shoulder couldn’t help the unease she experienced every time she dozed.

So here she was, strolling through the hotel, trying to familiarize herself with the layout. Every time she turned a corner, a new obstacle threw itself in her path.

Some of the court seemed genuinely pleased that she was there, the last king having died without issue and leaving the question of succession open to the seers and their divinations. While having a queen-consort was no guarantee of a child, it was as close as they were going to get, and most of the court seemed to accept her rather unique status. A few had even gone out of their way to invite her to ladies-only functions her mother had raved about when Gen had been a little girl.

Those people, Gen made sure to treat as cordially as she would wish to be treated by someone who held her life in their hands. Gen had, through Gareth, far more power than any of them realized. She could feel her connection to him now, a link that allowed her to not only pull power from her mate but also lend him her own. Add that to her abilities as one of Hecate’s chosen, and she would eventually be as powerful as Zachary Beckett.

But others… Others had made it clear they were
not
so happy with the status quo. Most were either relatives of the ex-council members, or the ex-members themselves, come to give Gen a piece of their minds. They thought to drive her from Gareth’s side with verbal barbs and taunts.

As. If. Gen would leave Gareth only if he demanded it. She would fight the Goddess Herself to keep her mate.

The women in front of her had already tried to corner her twice before, but each time another court member intervened. Now they’d found her, alone in a conference room, with no one else in sight. Gareth was busy with Mac, learning his duties as king in a crash course that was bound to rile that temper of his.

She wished she could be there to see it, but as she was queen-
consort
and not
queen
, there were aspects of Gareth’s rule she would never have access to.

She was fine with that. She had no desire to rule over anything but her mate’s heart.

Vivian Godwin huffed impatiently. “Are you listening, warlock?”

Ugh. If one more person called her that in that tone, she was definitely pulling a Gareth on them. “Go. Away.”

“Why should we? We ruled this court long before you came here. We’ll rule it again once you’re gone.”

Gen turned to face the woman who thought she was going to rule anything with Gareth sitting on the throne. Vivian was delusional if she thought Gareth was going to listen to her for even a second. “Is that so?”

“Yes.” One of the women crossed her arms over her chest. Gen hadn’t bothered to learn their names. They were unimportant. Each one was a toady of Vivian’s. They’d follow her like lemmings right off the court’s proverbial cliff. The only one missing was Lillian Fletcher, a fact she’d make sure to mention to Gareth once she dealt with them.

“The decree has not yet gone out, Genevieve. That means the council can still act as the council.”

“He declared it in front of Lillian Fletcher.” Vivian’s minute wince at that name was telling. “She’ll back him up.”

“Will she?”

A chill skittered down Gen’s spine. Goddess, she hoped her aunt hadn’t harmed Ms. Fletcher. That would be hurting an innocent, something sure to call down karma on Vivian’s head. “What did you do to Lillian?”

Vivian actually looked shocked before her contempt for Genevieve returned. “As if I would harm such a stalwart member of the court. No. She’ll see the truth, eventually. We’ll all be better off without you anywhere near the throne.”