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“Once upon a time, you liked causing a scene.” She slid a hand down his chest toward his waist with a wicked grin aimed at me. Bel quickly grabbed her wrist to pry her away, but it was too late. My magic was writhing, snarling like a feral animal, and I was seconds from doing so much worse than cursing her. I lurched to my feet, hissing when I banged the bistro table with my hip and knocked over a water glass.

“I knew this was a bad idea.” I grabbed my purse, refusing to look at either of them. We didn’t even get to have lunch before it all went to shit.

Bellamy called after me, but I picked up my pace. My magic was furious about leaving him with her, unable to comprehend why we didn’t just murder the interloper. But we were mad at him too for not immediately putting Margo in her place. Again. A sense of betrayal mingled with the sadness swirling in my gut.

So much for adventure.

21

CORDELIA

I was a little amazed that I made it back to my apartment without Bellamy chasing me down. I tried really hard not to imagine it was because he invited Margo to stick around and enjoy my lunch. Caught up in a whirlwind of thoughts, I almost missed the surprise waiting for me outside the building. When he straightened from where he’d been leaning against a lamppost, my magic went from murderous rage to fierce demand fast enough to make me stumble. It didn’t seem to mind that this was only the second time we’d actually been face-to-face.

Pathetic.

There was a day’s worth of dark scruff covering his chiseled jaw, and the gray of his eyes swirled like mercury. His posture was relaxed—one hand in the front pocket of his black denim jeans, the other twirling a pen between long tattooed fingers—but there was a tension in those eyes. His muscular shoulders shifted under his tight charcoal tee, inked arms on full display. I was curious about every piece of art etched into his skin, wanted to learn every story.

“Lucian.” Saying his name sent a little rush of excitement through me. “What are you doing here?” My whole body shivered as his eyes traveled the length of me, head to toe.

“I wanted to check on you,” he said, bringing his gaze back to mine.

I blinked at him, confused by both the timing and that he’d even feel the need. “How could you possibly know? It was like, ten minutes ago.”

“I was talking about last night.” His dark brow pulled down, and he stopped fidgeting with his pen. “What are you talking about?”

“Oh.” My cheeks burned, and I felt like an idiot. “Nothing. I was just…”

“With Bel, I know.” He stepped closer and lowered his voice. “What did my brother do?”

I sucked my bottom lip between my teeth and suddenly found the sidewalk very interesting. “It wasn’t him as much as his crazy ex.”

“Margo?”

I shrugged with a weak nod.

“Margo isn’t an ex,” he growled. “She’s a parasite.”

“Yeah, well⁠—”

“Ms. Grace!” The sharp bark of my name made me jump. Mr. Mason was storming up the sidewalk and drawing the attention of anyone nearby. Anxiety flared, even though Lucian subtly angled himself between Mr. Mason and me. He looked back at me, silently asking if I wanted him to deal with whatever this was, but I shook my head. I was a big girl.

“Mr. Mason,” I said tightly, working to keep the words steady. “Is there a problem?”

“A problem?” my livid landlord spat back, face growing red. “I thought I made myself clear that I will not tolerate irresponsible tenants. If you can’t be bothered to pay your rent, then you can consider this your⁠—”

“What?!” Surprise, then anger, twisted in my chest. That dangerous sensation prickled over my skin like pins and needles. “I put my check in the dropbox over a week ago.”

“Do not lie to me!” The old bastard jabbed a threatening finger at my face, withering my resolve, but his enraged tirade was cut short as a fist wrapped tightly around his wrist and pulled his hand away from me.

“How dare you?” Lucian’s words were a menacing growl, and he crowded the smaller man back against the brick wall while I moved another step further away. “You will not treat Cordelia with such disrespect.”

In an instant, the landlord’s ire dissipated, his expression going slack and his eyes glazing over. “I will not disrespect her,” Mr. Mason muttered in a monotone voice, unblinking.

“If she says she paid her rent, then she paid her rent.” Lucian leaned a little closer, still commanding his gaze. “Apologize. Now.”

Mr. Mason’s eyes never left Lucian’s, but he did as he was told. “I apologize, Ms. Grace.”

“Get out of here.” Lucian stepped back, giving Mr. Mason the room to stumble away, tripping in his haste.