Exorcising Caution

I’d rather be dealing with the dead than the living.

That thought repeated a dozen times as I looked around the crowded estate ballroom, void of a single familiar face. I always hated the stuffy, ostentatious aristocratic events, and regretted not declining the invitation with more insistence. Instead, I stood stiff, poised, and trying not to grimace as I handed my invitation over and followed the tide of the excited crowd.

Hundreds already milled around, enjoying the splendors the gala offered. Mages had enchanted glittering flakes of snow to fall in lazy swirls from the domed ceiling. Silver and blue fairy lights reflected on the illusory snowdrifts, giving the room the feeling of a winter wonderland. The magic was admittedly pretty, if simple.

I almost enjoyed it for a second.

Then someone entering behind me passed too closely, forcing me to shrink inward to avoid their touch. I sneered at the giggly, gossiping masses, ignoring formal and dull conversations about the weather or recent magical advancements I’d read about months ago. A stuffy and entirely boring affair that made my chest clench and my neck prickle with unease each time a pair of eyes slid in my direction.

Gods, if only I could be invisible, just for a moment… Or everyone could die. Really, either option worked for me.

“Phaedra! There you are!” As if the gods knew to take pity on me, a familiar arm wrapped around my waist and turned me around. The tension faded from my shoulders as I looked into a pair of vibrant cobalt eyes that perfectly matched mine.

“Phaeron,” I sighed my twin brother’s name, equally relieved and exasperated.

“I’m glad you made it.” He planted a quick kiss on the top of my head before we fell into step together. Eager for a drink, I accepted his arm, accompanying him to the open bar.

Guests wove along the smooth surface of the glass bar top, accented with illusioned ice crystals, giving the impression of a snowy landscape. They accepted drinks in various shades of blue and silver, and white; their glasses floating from the magical bartender’s spellwork.

It impressed me that they went all out to hire Mages to service the event, but I supposed it was being hosted by the Bureau of Magic where Phaeron and I both worked. Although in vastly different divisions.

“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this.”

My brother nudged my shoulder, grinning broadly. “It’s always a feat to get you out of the lab. I like to think of it as a treat for myself.”

“And you’re far too pleased with yourself for it,” I said miserably. It didn’t help that my black gown felt painted on like a second skin and the neckline plunged far lower than I remembered, nearly to my navel. “I don’t know anyone at this blasted event.”

“You know me,” Phaeron waggled his brows teasingly. “And I’m one of the guests of honor.”

“I’m aware,” I sighed. Multiple pairs of eyes followed as we passed. We snagged an empty spot at the bar, and I waved someone down, thirsty for something stronger than champagne.

“One of the top Exorcists of the year,” he said, chest puffed out and eyes shining. He was elated with himself and his accomplishments. As he deserved to be.

I turned, leaning one elbow on the bar, observing my brother and the satisfied twinkle in his cool blue eyes, hiding the true bundle of nerves within. No one else would see the tumultuous depths of his feelings as well as I could. We had been attached to one another since conception.

There was a lot of attention on him tonight. Especially from his superiors.

Phaeron and I both worked for the Bureau of Magic, and had since we graduated from the Arcane Academy on scholarships from the orphanage. But where I had taken a role in the Mage department as a Specialist in my field, Phaeron had followed in our ancestor’s footsteps and accepted a position with the Exorcists; guardians and keepers of the peace against the demonic or undead threats humanity faced.

My brother was itching for a promotion based on merit and not on name.

Every so often our jobs overlapped, as did the work events, yet this wasn’t one of them. I only accepted his invitation because we were family. I supported my twin’s work, his role, and his quest for vengeance—I understood it. Not to mention how proud I was of the hard work that had gone into his being offered the award he would accept tonight.

Besides, we were all the other had left. Of course, I would be there for him.

Even if I wanted to gouge out the eyes of every person who perceived my existence. It was terribly awkward to be seen by living, breathing strangers outside of the quiet sanctuary of my lab.

Yet there I was, accepting a glass of sparkling blue hibiscus wine whilst surrounded by the jocks and muscle heads of the Exorcist division and their immaculately dressed spouses. Cramped enough to set my teeth on edge, and their tittering laughter made me want to crawl out of my skin. With that in mind, I gulped more than sipped my drink, relishing the effervescent bubbles and the sweet yet tart cranberry-like flavor.

I nodded to the bartender, gesturing for a refill.

“Do you know how many demons I killed this year alone?” Phaeron was saying, moving so excitedly that his blue-black fizzing midnight whisky sloshed to the rim of his glass, almost spilling.

I winced, then rolled my eyes playfully at him as a second drink floated into my hand.

“Right, you’re the city’s hero,” I drawled before pressing my lips to the glass and prepared to take a sip.

A large, muscular hand landed on Phaeron’s shoulder, and a low, baritone voice said, “Alone, was it?”

I swallowed, and an insensible shiver raced down my spine.

“Oh, sod off. Not entirely alone.” Phaeron chuckled, turning to clap the newcomer on the back as a sign of casual familiarity.

My attention followed the direction of the newest presence, inexplicably sucking air out of the already stuffy room. Exhaling softly, stomach churning, I recognized the dark head of hair and the knife-sharp jawline of the impossibly tall man speaking to my brother.

Aristan Colborn.

Phaeron’s teammate and partner on the Exorcist force for the past three years.

I knew little about him. Other than that he’d saved my brother’s life more than once, he was still another of many strangers to me. He came from a disgraced Mage family, and he was a few years older than Phaeron and me. A person I knew of, periodically saw in passing at the Bureau, but he was more of a concept than an acquaintance.

The broad expanse of his shoulders and his wide stance blocked the view of the ballroom. Something about that eased the anxious tension, causing knots in my shoulders. With his height and the pitch-black Exorcist uniform he wore, he made a wall between me and the rest of the crowd. If I kept my focus on my brother and not the intense dark eyes of his teammate, I could pretend we were alone.

“Yeah, you would have died a dozen times over if not for me,” Aristan said, smiling despite his stiff and rigid posture. He had one hand in his pocket and the other clasping a fizzing midnight whisky. The silver signet ring on his pinky clinked the glass as he idly tapped it.

“And no one is more grateful for you saving my ass than I am,” Phaeron said with a devilish smirk before winking at me. “Well, perhaps my sister. She’d have my hide if I came home in less than pristine condition.”

“I suppose you both have me to thank for your pristine ass, then.” Both men laughed heartily, and my face heated.

“Speaking of, Aristan—” I opened my mouth to stop him, to divert the attention, but it was already too late. “—have you met my sister?” Phaeron angled toward me so that my ebony skin-tight dress came into view.

Aristan’s striking chestnut eyes darted in my direction, momentarily freezing on me. The air stilled in my lungs and the blood warmed in my veins, boiling just under the surface as his observation seared. His gaze lingered a half second longer, roaming down the egregious neckline of my dress before he cleared his throat and took a rushed swig of his whisky.

“Not officially,” he muttered into the glass.

“Great, then I have the honor,” Phaeron said, as if we’d be introduced under any other circumstances by anyone else. “Aristan, this is my twin sister, Phaedra D’arcy. She works as—”

“A Mage for the Bureau,” Aristan finished for him, blinking slowly as he looked at me, poorly hiding a smirk behind his whisky glass. “You work in one of those super-secret labs the Bureau keeps locked up tight.”

A dimple appeared in his left cheek.

My insides churned with charged energy.

I took another large gulp of wine to cool my heated face.

Scoffing, I said, “Am I that infamous?”

Just then someone at the other end of the bar called “D’arcy!”

Phaeron and I both looked up on instinct, but it was one of my brother’s colleagues from the Exorcist division excitedly waving him over. Another friend wanted to congratulate him on the well-earned award being offered tonight.

Being a Legacy from an ancient house of Exorcists despite the whole orphan thing smearing our childhood, he was usually swept away and passed around at these events like the Bureau’s very own golden boy to show off. He leaned into the attention and the networking, where I vehemently shied away from it, but perhaps that was the dichotomy of twins. One was meant to be warm and outgoing, where the other was cold and reserved.

And he had worked so hard, he deserved to be the center of our colleagues’ and superior’s consideration. It was a miracle he’d managed to remain at my side for as long as he had.

“Ah, shoot, looks like Captain Shaun needs me for a moment.” Phaeron’s smile dwindled into a thin line as he looked at me.

I nodded at him, silently encouraging him to go. We were adults, and no matter how much I hated these events and the nattering crowds, I would survive. Apparently, that wasn’t enough for him.

My brother whirled to Aristan, targeting his teammate with his full, pleading eyes. The larger, dark-eyed man grimaced, then exhaled.

“It would mean a great deal to me if you could keep my sister company for a moment. She doesn’t know anyone here, and she hates these events—”

“Phaeron!”

“It’s no problem.”

He clapped Aristan on the shoulder, squeezing it briefly. “Thanks, man. I owe you a drink!” Then he kissed me on the head before darting off into the crowd. And just like that, he was gone, mingling with the throng of attendees.

Left alone with my brother’s teammate, I found myself almost as out of place as before. The bartender noted my nervous nod and floated over my third glass of wine. I took a big gulp, ignoring the light-headed fuzziness growing in the corners of my mind. In fact, it took the edge off my nerves, and I found that a preferred state.

“You’re not, you know.” Aristan’s low voice sent a visceral flush through me, rippling under my skin, down my spine, into the clenching ache in my core.

“What?” I sputtered, setting my glass down. I twirled the wine stem in my fingers, breathing harder than necessary as we locked eyes.

“Infamous,” he said with a casual shrug. His dark brow arched, and an easy smile graced his sensual lips.

“Ah, right.”

“It’s just that your brother talks about you all the time.”

I cringed and let out an exasperated huff while looking into the bottom of my drink. “I’m not so sure that’s a good thing.”

His nose crinkled from his smile, and he tapped his glass. “Is it because I mentioned the secret labs? Look, I promise I have no idea what you get up to.”

“And neither does Phaeron,” I said immediately. “That doesn’t stop him from trying to find out. He’s too nosy for his own good.”

“He cares,” Aristan spoke quietly, shrugging.

Yet the intensity of his stare stole my breath.

“As I do for him, of course.”

He nodded and drank. “Of course.”

There was a long pause where we both finished our drinks and ordered another round. I sipped my wine, and he tended to his whiskey. At some point we had leaned on the bar top, only inches apart and close enough to feel the body heat radiating off him like sunshine beaming down in the summer. I was acutely aware of his presence, and more so when he angled his head to look at me again.

Something in his gaze sent a prickling heat licking through me. The air between us thickened, as sticky and sweet as honey, glueing us together in the same erotically charged trap. As his eyes traveled down my body, as slow and potent as a caress, another wanton zap hit me. And it had been so long, so many months, I felt the absence of touch worse than torture.

His chestnut eyes were more than brown. They were multi-dimensional with varying hues of amber, copper, and auburn. Soft and rich, heating me up from within as potently as a glass of cognac. Utterly intoxicating, and I would either melt or drown in those depths.

I was already more than tipsy from chugging wine to ease my social anxiety. The alcohol gave me the confidence to examine him as boldly as he had the black dress clinging tight to my slim curves. The pulse at his throat fluttered rapidly despite his stony exterior, and his increasing breaths lifted his broad, muscular shoulders.

He was frustratingly handsome, and I felt my body responding with a longing ache between my legs.

Was I really checking out my brother’s teammate and considering what I thought I was?

Our eyes clashed, chestnut brown locked with cobalt blue. My stomach flipped and twirled, and my exhale stuttered.

Yes. Yes, I was.

Aristan raised a brow. “There’s far too many people here.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” I chirped breathlessly, leaning closer.

“Would you like to step away for a moment?” His eyes darkened and my thighs clenched. “Get a breath of air, perhaps?”

“Gods, yes,” I said before chugging the last drop of my wine, grateful for the confidence it provided. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have dared to consider something so insane.

“I know just the place.” A slow smirk spread across his lips, and without a second of hesitation, Aristan held his hand out to me. And I didn’t allow myself to think about anything else when I placed my hand in his, completely lost in the enthralling hunger of his stare that made me feel so viscerally alive.