"…we never get over our great losses; we absorb them, and they carve us into different creatures." –Gail Caldwell
Chapter Seventeen: The Aching Wound
Gen chewed her lip nervously as she waited for the potion to be ready. Oh gods, let it be purple, she thought. She wasn't ready for—yet. She knew Draco wasn't either. She looked at the instructions for the at- home test, whose box was lying on the counter next to her cauldron.
"Wait until the potion begins to boil, then add the hair," she read aloud to herself. "Wait ten minutes for the test to complete itself. Purple is negative; Gold is positive."
She chewed her lip again. The clear liquid was bubbling now, and she felt so nervous she wanted to vomit. Quickly she sprinkled the soft lock of hair she'd cut into the cauldron and stirred. The potion because to shimmer at once, and she stepped back.
She couldn't sit there and watch it. It was too nerve wracking. She checked her watch. It was only four thirty. Draco would be home until five. Merlin, she should have just waited for him like they'd agreed that morning.
She paced for several minutes and finally she made a decision and went to the cabinet. She really couldn't put off a glass of wine, even if she was—you could still consume in moderation, couldn't you? She poured a small glass and through it back in one go. She should have just gone for the vodka.
She checked her watch again. It had been almost 11 minutes. Her heart hammering in her chest, she leaned over to peer into the cauldron. The potion inside was a deep, dark purple.
"Oh my stars!" she cried happily. "Negative!"
She laughed out loud in relief before going to the liquor cabinet and fetching the gin. She poured herself a strong drink and laughed. They'd dodged the bullet. She smiled. It was a beautiful sunny day out. Now she could go to the deck and enjoy it.
Changing quickly into her swimsuit, she grabbed her drink and headed up, lying by the pool and closing her eyes. Soon enough her floo smoked with a message from Draco.
Where are you?
On the deck, she replied.
A minute or two later, she could hear his tread on the stairs, and she took a large swig and stood up, beaming.
The minute he appeared, still dressed in his waistcoat and tie, she leapt into his arms, kissing him with abandon.
"It was negative," she breathed between kisses. "I'm not pregnant."
He laughed against her lips.
"Thank Merlin. I got no work done today; all I could do was worry about it."
She shook her head happily. He kissed her again, this time more heatedly.
"Is it too ironic to celebrate with a shag?" he asked, huskily.
"Who cares?" she whispered back, nipping at his full bottom lip. "I love irony."
"So do I," he agreed, and he carried her to the bedroom with no further discussion.
When it was over, they lay sweaty and satisfied, and he gave an unprompted laugh.
"Please Merlin tell me you took the potion today."
She laughed, too.
"I did. I vow to never miss another day for the rest of my life."
Draco smirked, rolling onto his side and resting his head on his palm as he surveyed her. She responded by tracing the falcon tattoo on his left side. He'd never said what the significance of the two bird tattoos was, but the falcon was her favourite.
"Never?" he said smoothly, leaning down to kiss her neck. "Not even intentionally?"
She looked up at him, eyes sparkling.
"What do you mean?" she asked coyly.
"You've never said either way," Draco said.
"Said what?" she pressed. She didn't want to play her hand until she was sure what he was talking about.
"If you wanted children," he said at last, diamond eyes glittering.
She nodded, considering. Before Draco she hadn't really thought she did, mostly because the idea of a monogamous relationship hadn't appealed to her. However, now that she'd been dating Draco for a year, it'd begun to seem more appealing.
"Yes," she said softly. "I suppose I do."
"With me?" he pressed.
She shook her head and looked at him as if he was crazy, which made him laugh.
"Certainly not!" she said, as if scandalized. "But definitely with my other boyfriend…"
He bent to kiss her possessively, smirking at having reduced her to a pile of putty.
"Of course with you," Gen said softly, raking a hand through his hair. "We would have beautiful blonde babies."
He nodded, smirking.
"Yeah, we would."
She looked up at him, and it seemed to hit her that she was actually talking about this.
"I've never talked about this with anyone before," she whispered, touching his cheek. "Have you?"
He flexed his jaw muscles almost involuntarily, and she let her hand drop.
"Of course you have," she said, sounding hurt. "With her."
It had been almost two months since Gen had found out about Leolin, and though Draco had refused to discuss the matter further, her spectre appeared often.
"We didn't have immediate plans," Draco lied. "We'd just discussed it."
He could still remember the negotiation he and Leolin'd had in the shower the morning after they'd gotten back together. Leolin had agreed to start trying to day she turned 24. He quickly did the math. That was this September. He imagined her pregnant and glowing for a moment before mentally slapping himself.
"Do you miss her?" Gen said after a beat.
She was often trying to weasel information out of him, and usually he just simply refused to answer. He clenched his jaw again.
"Why would I miss her?" he asked coolly. "I have you."
She considered this, not fooled by his diplomacy.
"That didn't answer my question," she pointed out at once. "Do you miss her, Draco?"
"No," he lied again. "Of course I don't."
Every day with Gen admittedly did make him miss her less, but he had to admit to himself he still had occasional dreams where they were together, and he secretly woke up wishing he could fall back asleep and resume them.
Gen seemed satisfied with the lie though, and she smiled, leaning up to kiss him.
"I love you," she said, raking her long hairs through his hair again.
He awarded this with a crooked smile, and he bent to kiss her in lieu of saying it back.
He pulled away again before smirking and biting his lip.
"I have an idea," he said, rolling on top of her again. "Why don't we practice making more babies?"
She laughed.
"I am still allowed to get scared of the word baby when we're naked together?" she asked.
"Relax," he said, pulling the sheet down to reveal her nakedness. "It will be like a scrimmage," he breathed against her lips, still laughing, "skins v…skins."
"You've convinced me," she laughed, kissing him soundly again as he set to it.
Leolin stared out the window of her old bedroom in London, watching as the trees lining the stately boulevard below bent slightly in the summer wind. It was July, but this was England, and it had rained almost all night, leaving the morning air damp and chilled. Despite the nipping breeze, the window was cracked. Leolin liked the cold these days. Her wound, though healing, often left her feeling uncomfortably flushed, and the cold breeze was refreshing. She told a deep breath in, liking the smell of grass and rain.
"Leolin darling, are you awake?"
"Yes," she called, turning slightly towards the door to her bedroom. "Come in."
Ariadne slipped through and came to join Leolin at the window, softly stroking her hair.
"How are you?" she asked gently.
"Leolin shrugged.
"Still in pain," she admitted. "It's not unbearable, just a constant ache."
Ariadne ran her hand in soothing arcs across Leolin's back.
"Severus just owled. He's on his way over here. You'll feel much better after you see him."
Leolin wrinkled her nose. It was odd and uncomfortable to imagine Severus Snape anywhere by Hogwarts, and it was doubly so to imagine him in this room.
"Can we just stick to Professor Snape please?" Leolin said, wrinkling her nose.
Her mum shrugged.
"He wasn't Professor Snape when I knew him."
"I find it uncomfortable that you were schoolmates with everyone in the world ever."
"Not to exaggerate," Ariadne said, smiling.
Leolin didn't return the gesture, though her expression remained neutral.
"What was he like back then?" Leolin asked.
Ariadne shrugged.
"Quiet. Brilliant. A bit lonely, I suppose. Even in Slytherin he didn't have many friends; not that it seemed like he wanted many, really. He was quite close with Lilly Evans when we were younger, but that all came crashing down when she starting dating James our seventh year. I think deep down he was madly in love with her, and he couldn't bare to watch her with someone he hated as much as James."
"What was he like?" Leolin pressed as Ariadne sat on the edge of the bed. She sighed, considering.
"James? He was hard to dislike, from my prospective. He was generally outgoing and friendly to everyone, though looking back he was downright cruel to Severus. He was pretty arrogant, though. He and Sirius both. They strutted around like they owned everything, and that got tiresome at times. They had Remus to keep them in line, though, and he was sweet and humble in a way they never were. Together they made of the beating heart of Gryffindor, and there were very few people, Slytherins excepted, who didn't like them."
Leolin nodded, feeling a dull ache in her throat. She hadn't known Harry's dad and she's barely known Professor Lupin, by she felt oddly hollow to think they were dead. Then again, they were both survived by their sons, and the lived on through them. She touched her stomach, feeling utterly dead inside. Her genes would die with her.
Ariadne noticed Leolin's movement and stood, pulling Leolin's hand away and once and holding it softly between both of her own.
"I know this is the last thing you want me to say right now," Ariadne said gently. "But it's going to be alright, lapin. I admit I can't imagine how this must feel, but—you're going to get through this, and when you do you'll see this isn't the end. When the time is right, you'll have options.
Leolin closed her eyes. She didn't want options. She didn't want alternatives. She wanted exactly what Sev and Amelie and Grace had; she wanted what Ginny and Pansy and Gen would have; she wanted a baby of her own.
"Now's not the time to worry about this," Ariadne said reassuringly. "Let's get you healthy first, then we will face this together."
Leolin nodded.
"I know," she admitted.
Ariadne didn't even realize how deep that truth ran. There was a war coming. As soon as Leolin was recovered, she knew she'd be expected to rejoin the fight.
She mind flitted to the gag, remembering it choking her. She had been stricken by the thought since she arrived back how, and she grew continually surer she was right, much as she hoped she wasn't. Her fear was this: the gag was nothing like she'd imagined it to be, and all the work she'd done up to this point was actually useless.
She thought about the prospect again, biting her lip. She pictured Draco, and it became even harder to think about the gag. Her love for him had grown so thorny, and between the brambles of her imprisonment, his distrust, Genevieve, and her barrenness, he felt painfully far from her. She had no strength to fight Lucius now, but she knew that Draco's resolve to marry Gen would grow the farther he got from the truth.
Besides, she could see Gen's next play before she'd even made it. She'd stop taking the potion and surprise Draco by announcing their beautiful, happy accident. Leolin knew she would, and when she did Leolin knew the damage to her and Draco would be irreparable. Without the truth and with the responsibility and joy of fatherhood looming, he would turn his back permanently.
The doorbell rang, and Ariadne stood.
"Come downstairs, lapin."
Leolin nodded, following her mother dutifully with head bent. When they arrived on the foyer, they both looked down into the spacious living room to see Severus Snape standing next to James near the door, appraising the space with a disinterested gaze. He was dressed as always in all black, and he wore a long coat button nearly to his neck with his typical white shirt, black cravat, and stiff black collar underneath, though he was without the black robe he wore at school. He wore the same dark spats, which shined dully.
Ariadne smiled at him before taking Leolin's hand and helping her down the stairs. Stairs were still hard for Leolin and she felt weak as she reached the bottom. James immediately opened his arms to her as Ariadne made to greet Snape, and she went to him at once.
For an adult who already had three loving parents, Leolin had embraced her new stepfather wholeheartedly. Having grown up largely away from Adrien, Leolin admittedly loved having James around all the time. They'd already established the tradition of doing the crossword on Sunday morning, and he was excellent silent company, which was something she craved after the attack. She lay her head on his chest as her smoothed her hair back reassuringly.
"Ariadne," Snape drawled as Ariadne stepped forward.
"Severus," Ariadne replied, stepping forward and shocking the hell out of Leolin but brushing a salutatory kiss on his cheek. "Thank you for coming."
He accepted the gesture with ease, and it seemed to so odd to Leolin that he would observe such a genteel practice.
"Forgive me for not coming sooner," he said in an even tone. "I have been—preoccupied with the minister."
"We're happy you're here now," James insisted, wrapping his arm a little tighter around Leolin.
It was then that Snape finally looked at her.
"Leolin," he said in apparent greeting, and she blinked.
He'd never used her first name before, and it sounded so foreign in his voice.
Leolin let go of James and stepped forward.
"Professor Snape," she said simply. "Thank you for coming."
He nodded tightly.
"Forgive me," he said somewhat softly. "I fear the sins of my youth have once again reared their ugly heads. It is so unfortunate that you were caught in their snares. I wish to extend my apologies, inconsequential as they are."
Leolin stood dumbly for a second, not knowing quite what to say. She'd forgotten for a time why it was that she needed to see Snape so desperately; sectumsempra was his own invention. Had he not been a deatheater as a young man, she would still be able to have children. His candor has made her throat dry, and she blinked several times before looking to both of her parents. Their eyes were sorrowful but full of love.
"It's not your fault," Leolin said at last, bowing her head. "I was reckless."
Snape said nothing.
"Are you still in pain?" he asked, and she nodded, as Ariadne ushered her forward.
"Yes," she said numbly.
"How much?" he asked as she sat down on the couch. He sat on the couch opposite, obsidian eyes intense.
"Moderate," she said. It was hard to say, really. The physical and emotional pain seemed linked. The latter made the former seem so much more acute.
"And the wound?"
Leolin swallow and lifted her shirt to reveal the angry red mark, and Snape clenched his jaw.
"I can heal the remaining damage today. That should eliminate all the pain."
"What about—internal damage?"
Snape's eyes found her, and suddenly she felt ashamed for asking.
Her cheeks flushed, and she looked down, ashamed. Sensing her unease, Ariadne touched James's arm.
"We'll give you some space," she said. "Just call if you need anything."
Leolin nodded, swallowing hard.
"I'm afraid I'm not a healer," Snape said finally. "For me to discuss the internal damage you suffered would only be—misleading. I'm sorry."
She nodded tightly.
"Of course," she said, looking into her lap.
"I know your situation is delicate, but there are still several individuals at St. Mungoes that can be trusted. Your mother will know who they are. When you're healed and rested, I would suggest you visit one of them."
She nodded again.
"Thank you."
"I'm sorry I cannot be more helpful," he said stiffly. "And I'm sorry I never shared the counter-curse. I was ashamed of what I'd created; I regret not sharing the truth with Miss Rosamund when I had the chance."
She licked her lips. All this candor made her stomach ache. Besides, it was too painful to imagine that if Lyra had had the correct incantation, none of the damage would have been permanent.
"We all make mistakes," she grit out softly, hoping she could hold back any tears. It would only embarrass them both.
"This shouldn't be painful," he told her. "If it is, tell me at once and we will rest."
She nodded a third time.
"Understood," she said.
He drew his wand, which she realised she'd never seen before. It was comely and made of polished blackthorn, and even at distance she could tell it was extremely unyielding.
"When you're ready, Miss Lefevre," he said, and the familiarity of the address had a calming effect.
"I am," she affirmed.
He nodded, raising his wands and closing his eyes for a moment.
"Vulnera sanentur," he murmured quietly, his wand directed at her wound. "Vulnera sanentur. Vulnera sanentur."
She closed her eyes and grit her teeth. She could feel the lingering dark magic being drawn out, and it was unpleasant but bearable. As he'd said, there was no pain.
Finally he stopped speaking, lowering his wand. All the pain in her abdomen had ceased, and she felt oddly hollow. Now her emotional anguish had no companion, and it made her chest ache.
"How do you feel?" Snape asked.
"Stronger," she said. "less sick."
He nodded, drawing a dark vial from his sleeve.
"And the scar?" he asked. "I'm afraid I can't erase it completely, but the dittany will lessen its appearance tremendously. It's not necessary for your healing process, but if you like—"
"Yes," Leolin said firmly. "Please."
He nodded and she lifted her shirt again. She realised too late he would be forced to touch her, and she felt wildly uncomfortable. She looked away as he placed a cool palm to her stomach and began with the dittany. It burned her skin, and she grit her teeth, trying to forget his hands and the potion alike.
Finally, he sat back and she opened her eyes, looking down at the scar and tracing it with her finger. It was raised a few centimetres from the skin, but it was smooth and clean, so much less ugly than it had been. Hastily she pulled her shirt back down, and only then could she look at him.
"Thank you," she said softly, blushing again.
He only nodded.
"You're still weak," he warned. "I'm sure the healers have told you, but this kind of trauma shocks all parts of the body. Just because the wound is healed doesn't mean you are recovered."
He pulled another small bottle from his sleeve. Where was he hiding them?
"This is papaver lacrimae. It's a very powerful sendative and painkiller. Sleep is key at this stage in the recovery process. If you're having trouble, this will help you sleep soundly. However, it is highly addictive and wildly powerful. Two drops in your tea is the absolute maximum you should ingest daily. I wouldn't take it every day; it's best to only take it when necessary. Do you understand?"
She nodded, squeezing the bottle tightly in her palm.
"Yes, professor."
He rose.
"If complications should arise, tell your mother she can contact me at Spinner's End.
Leolin nodded numbly. The idea of Snape owning a house near London felt so absurd and out of place.
"Thank you," she whispered.
He nodded.
"Take care of yourself, Miss Lefevre. We have just the one lifetime."
This made her throat ache. She felt a strained kinship with him in that moment. They were both destined to die without children.
He turned towards the door, but a thought occurred to her and she called him back.
"Professor?"
He turned.
"I know this is an odd question, but what do you know about magical gags?"
His lips tightened slightly.
"I do not profess to be an expert," he said carefully. "But I will say this: they are one of the more nefarious components of magical law."
She nodded, and she could tell from his penetrative gaze that he likely knew why she was asking. Her mother was right about him; he had an uncommonly quick mind.
"If I was curious to learn more—" she began carefully, and he nodded.
"If you were," he agreed. "I suggest you read The Strictures of Wizarding Law by a man named Bachardus Fletcher. I would venture to guess any questions you may have on the subject would be answered there."
She nodded carefully.
"Thank you, sir."
"Tell you mother and step-father goodbye," his said in an even tone.
"I will," she said.
He gave a terse and final nod.
"Until next time then, Miss Lefevre."
He opened the door, and with a swish of his dark coat, he was gone.
Three weeks later, Leolin sat brooding in her new apartment in Belgravia, a posh part a London halfway across the city from her mother's home in Bankside. The apartment was all glass and she could see through sides of the city from where she sat on her leather couch, coffee mug cradled in her hand.
On the glass coffee table in front of her lay a stack of letters, which had now been reduced to a makeshift coaster.
She'd read them all anyways, and she had no immediate plans to reply, so a coaster was as good a function as any.
The bottom one was from Effy and Swish.
Talked to Sev and she said you've been in a terrible accident. Are you back in London? Let us know. xx
Severina was next, written in her flawless script.
Tesoro, write me back. Xavy and I are sick from lack of contact. Your mother tells me you've moved to your own flat. When can I come to you? I'm worried.
The top one had just arrived the day before yesterday; it was from Ginny.
Lai, I hope this finds you well. I can't tell you what torture it was in South Carolina after you left. America is doubly as bleak without you. We've just arrived back in London, and I'm desperate to see you. Your mum said you've been to the healer, but she didn't elaborate. Either way, I'll come by at your earliest convenience.
Leolin bit her lip before taking a heady gulp of her coffee. It had two drops of the papaver tincture. It was as powerful as Snape had promised, and this cup of coffee would keep her blissfully numb all day. It was just as she liked it. It relaxed the mind to virtual uselessness, and under it's effects she could ignore her faded troubles.
It was true what Ginny had written. She'd been to see the healer the day after Snape came to the house. She'd been shuffled discreetly through an unassuming side door, after which a portly nurse in butter yellow scrubs had accompanied her to the maternity ward. It made her stomach ache and ache and ache, but she bit her lip and said nothing. Lyra and Snape had both admitted they weren't experts; that meant there was still hope.
She sat with her mother for a long time in silence before a dazzling man in his mid-thirties strode in, shutting the door behind him before smiling warmly at her.
"Leolin?" he said, extending his hand. "I'm Langdon Blackburn."
She nodded tightly and shook it.
"Nice to meet you."
She'd never met the man before, but his much younger brother Geoffrey had been a classmate of hers at Hogwarts. Even if he hadn't, the Blackburns were St. Mungoes royalty. Langdon's father Camden was the director of the hospital and an accomplished surgeon, just as his father Thrush had been before him.
"Now," Langdon said gently. "I've already spoken to Lyra Rosamund and she's filled me in, but if you're willing, I'd like to hear your version."
"I don't know what I might add," Leolin said. "I was hit with the curse and began bleeding immediately, at which point I passed out. I woke up weak and in a lot of pain, and Lyra came and patched me up."
He nodded sympathetically.
"And you've since visited Professor Snape, is that right?"
"I have," she said. "He finished the healing and cleaned up the scar."
"May I?" Langdon asked, putting on gloves.
Leolin nodded and raised her shirt to show him the shimmering scar.
He ran finger along it appreciatively.
"It's healed beautifully," he said. "This is lovely work that Professor Snape has done."
She nodded numbly, wishing he would get to the point.
"Now," he said as she lowered her shirt. "Let's talk about the real issue, shall we?"
"Please, she nodded."
He sat down on a low stool and slid towards her.
"I've reviewed your charts," he said. "And the good news is that it missed your small intestines. If it hadn't, the sepsis would have killed you."
She nodded numbly.
"That's good."
"It's very good," he affirmed.
It didn't feel particularly good to her.
"What about the other damage?" Leolin asked quietly.
She and her mother traded a look, and Ariadne squeezed her hand.
"That's what we're here to find out," Langdon said calmly. "Now, if you would lie on the table for me, we can take a look."
She nodded and climbed up, reaching for her mother's hand again.
"This will be cold," Langdon said, lifting her shirt again and drawing his wand. "But in no way unpleasant beyond that."
"Alright," she said meekly, closing her eyes.
She saw her two futures running parallel in her mind, and she tried to start down one and not the other. She imagined lying on this same table, sweaty and happy with a tiny blonde baby in her arms.
"Ready?" he asked.
"Yes," she croaked.
He pressed the tip of his wand to her abdomen, and he was right; it was cold. This went on for what felt like forever, and his wand moved seamlessly as his eyes glided across the screen above her head. Finally, he pulled his wand away and removed his gloves. She sat up slowly, unable to look at him. Finally she was forced to, and immediately she bit her lip.
"Leolin," he said softly. "The damage to your uteran wall was extensive, and that comes with complications. This was a great trauma to the uterus, and though we've repaired the damage, there are repercussions."
She bowed her head.
"This kind of damage coaxes the uterus into a state which is extremely hostile to fertilisation. The organ itself also suffered extensive damage, which will make it impossible for a fetus to properly develop. I'm afraid, given all this, that you are no longer able to bear children.
She felt the first tear fall, and he touched her knee gently.
"You are an incredibly brave woman, Leolin, and Professor Snape tells me that you were wounded in the service of the greater good. For that you should be commended. I know this is a terrible shock for you, and I would suggest that you begin seeing someone to help you cope. I would be happy to refer you to someone, though seeing as your father is a psychologist, he would probably be better suited to find you a match."
Leolin quietly leaned onto her mother's shoulder, and Ariadne held her.
"I am also going to prescribe Rentenam, which is a drug that will help contain the trauma and aid in your recovery."
"Contain it?" Leolin asked meekly, wiping her tears.
"Yes."
"To where?"
He looked solemn and sympathetic.
"The site of impact."
"You mean my uterus."
"Yes," he said after a minute.
"What will it do to me?" she asked.
"It helps the uterus power down naturally."
Leolin bit her lip, looking at the bottle. The pills were the seal on her fate as a barren woman. She looked at her mother for support, and Ariadne accepted the bottle.
"Can we go?" Leolin asked quietly.
"Of course," Ariadne said as they rose.
"Thank you, Langdon," Ariadne said. "It's nice to know we can still trust someone."
Langdon nodded.
"You can always trust me. Please owl if you ever need my help again."
"We will," Ariadne agreed.
"Thank you," Leolin whispered softly, though she felt anything but grateful. "I needed to know."
"You courage is admirable, Leolin," Langdon said softly. "You will move past this in time. Don't rush it."
She nodded.
"Thank you," she repeated, and with that they had left.
No longer able to stay in her childhood bedroom, Leolin had found a flat and moved in several days later in the face of vehement protestations from Ariadne.
"Leolin, you still need to rest and recover!"
"I can do that at my own flat," Leolin said. "Please, I just need some bloody space."
"Leolin—"
"Mum!" she cried exasperatedly. "For the love of Merlin, please stop. I'm an adult and I need to be an adult again. I can't handle any more coddling. The wound is healed and I've been to the specialist. Now I just need to get my strength back, and I need to do it on my own."
Her mother had made no more protestations beyond that, and Leolin had moved away without another discussion.
Despite what she'd told her mother, she'd yet to begin taking the prescribed pills. They were too final, and she couldn't bear to face their outcome. At least without them she could pretend this was all some nightmare.
The pills sat on the coffee table and she stared at them as the papaver haze descended. Underneath was copy of the book Snape had recommended. She'd poured through it, and she could see the shape of things with absolute and deafening clarity now. It only made her feel disgusted.
When the papaver effects reached full potency, she stood, grabbing the pill bottle and headed to the washroom. She flipped up the seat of the bog and unscrewed the lid before pouring the twenty or so pills into the water. She then flushed it, screwing her eyes shut as their spun down the drain.
She went to her cabinet next, which had been stocked for her by the decorator she'd hired to prepare the apartment. There, towards the back, was a potion pack. She drew the thirty small vials out carefully before releasing the whole apparatus and watching it smash magnificently on the floor. The ruby liquid spilled everywhere, as was the glass. She whipped her wand and the carnage flew into a compact ball, which Leolin threw away.
What a relief, she thought dully. She would no longer have to remember to take it each day. Feeling grimly satisfied at having done anything, she padded back into the airy living room, crying out when she saw someone sitting on the couch.
"Merlin!" Sweeney said sympathetically, rising at once. "Sorry, love! I didn't mean to startle you."
"Swish," she said tiredly. "You scared me out of my pants. How did you get in here?"
"Sorry," he repeated. "I—ah—circumvented your door lock. Don't worry, I will upgrade it before I leave."
She nodded then turned to sit back down, taking another swig of coffee. He surveyed her. She'd dropped ten pounds or so, and her dark hair only made her skin seem paler, and her sparkling blue eyes dull and flat.
"What are you doing here?" she asked.
He seemed somewhat surprised at this question.
"I hadn't heard from you. I assumed you didn't get my owl—"
"No I did," she said. "I'm sorry I didn't respond. I've been busy."
"Don't be sorry," Sweeney said, though it was clear she wasn't busy at all. "I know you've got a lot on your mind."
She nodded, throat tight.
"Did Sev tell you what happened to me?"
"What do you mean?" he said diplomatically, and she appreciated his loyalty.
"It's okay," she affirmed. "It's not a secret."
"Sev said it wasn't for sure."
Leolin shook her head.
"No, it is now. I went to St. Mungo's a few weeks ago."
"Merlin," Swish breathed sympathetically. "I'm so sorry, Nay."
"The doctor says I'm lucky," she whispered. "If it had been any higher I would have died. I should be grateful."
"It's okay if you aren't," he said truthfully, and she nodded.
"Thank you."
She strayed to one of the glass walls, putting her palm to the cool pane. It had been cloudy for weeks, and today a tremendous thunderstorm was rolling in from the west. It would hit soon.
"How are things out there?"
"Bad," he replied grimly. "New Orleans really shook the hornet's nest. Malfoy's just come back from America, and things are happening fast now. It's coming, whether or not we're ready for it."
"What's coming?" she asked dully, watching the clouds roll in.
"War," he admitted softly. "No one's quite ready to say it out loud, but the board's been set, and all the pieces are moving into position; there's no going back from here. Potter and his godfather are working to reestablish the old Order, but they're not gained much ground. Even with Potter, Black can't seem to convince anyone to stick their necks out, even a little. The minister has been flexing the muscles he has free, and it's the ordinary people who are feeling the squeeze. Besides, at this point, it's only a Black and few others left. Most of the original Order is dead."
"Audige?"
"Hasn't said a word yet. Not a syllable. I think he might be gearing up to do something nasty."
"That's—unfortunate," she breathed.
"It's a powder keg," he correctly solemnly. "Malfoy, Peakes, and Zabini devised this makeshift prison for him, but you can sense him wearing away at it. I think we might have been wrong to cage the beast."
"We didn't have a choice," she pointed out.
"I know," he agreed.
Silence reigned for a frigid minute.
"Everyone's been asking for you," Swish said gently at last. "They're worried about you."
"Then you can tell them I'm fine," Leolin said simply. "Because I am."
She didn't care if Sweeney could tell she wasn't. She just wanted to be alone.
He nodded.
"Right, well you're probably anxious to talk about the genie evidence, but I've afraid I have bad news."
She lay down.
"I know you couldn't find it."
"I couldn't," he admitted. "I'm so sorry, Nay. I looked everywhere. I swear it wasn't in the manor."
"It's not your fault," she affirmed softly, watching the clouds again. "I know it wasn't there."
He frowned in incomprehension.
"How can you be sure?"
"Because Lucius destroyed it. Besides, it doesn't matter."
"Sorry?"
"I said it doesn't matter," she repeated. "I was wrong about the gag; it wasn't what I thought."
"I don't understand," he admitted. "What do you mean?"
She sighed, shaking her head. Every time she thought about it, she felt like a fool.
"Lucius knew when he dragged me in that he would need to use La Genie later as a cover for stealing those loutrophori. If he'd sent me to Azkaban for it, he would have no cover for his thefts."
"What does that mean?" Swish said, frowning.
"The Genie evidence was just bait," she said, trying not to sound too sorrowful. "It was just—leverage. He knew it would scare me into doing what he wanted. That's why the Genie evidence wasn't bound into the contract; it was a rouse."
"To what end?" Sweeney said. "What was it that he wanted from you?"
"Lucius knew if he distracted me with the La Genie I would get flustered and agree to his terms." She looked down. "He knew he could ensnare me in a physical gag, which is far more effective then even a threat of prison could ever be."
"What do you mean, a physical gag?"
She bowed her head.
"I tried to tell Draco the truth in New Orleans and I literally couldn't. That's a physical gag; you physically can't speak of anything mentioned in the contract."
"Alright," Sweeney said calmly. "So you can't tell him. That's easy enough to circumvent. One of us will do it for you."
"You can't!" she burst, growing agitated.
She'd been down every avenue in her mind, and she knew they all eventually led to the same bleak road.
"Why not?" he asked, clearly trying to be patient in the face of her worsening mood.
"I did some research on physical gags," she explained. "That isn't how they work. The barrier isn't between me and Draco," she said in agitation. "It's between Draco and the information. It doesn't matter who tries to tell him; As long as the binding stands, he can neitherhear nor see the truth. Not from me, not from you, not from anyone. It wouldn't matter if you screamed it at him or shoved him face first into a pensieve; under the terms, he is literally barred from the truth."
He shook his head, trying to wrap his mind around this influx of new information.
"How can that even be?" he demanded, trying to soften the growing edge in his tone.
Leolin ran a hand through her limp hair, sighing.
"The contract is altering his perception of reality," she explained. "It's warping his ability to read and comprehend the information he receives. Normally he would be able to read between the lines and see this for what it is, but—the gag is like a sickness: it's crippling him; he just doesn't know it."
"What does that mean for you, then?"
"It just means that I'm right back to where I always am: under Lucius's thumb. I thought this time I could stay one step ahead of him." She shook her head in defeat. "I thought after everything I've been through that somehow I would find a way past him and his scheming. But I—couldn't." she hung her head. "It was a fixed game from the jump; I never actually had a chance to win."
"But now you know," Sweeney said encouragingly, kneeling down and taking her hand. "Nay, you finally have all the right cards in hand. You just have to buckle down and play them to win."
Leolin looked up and shook her head before retracting her hand.
"No."
"No? No what?"
"I'm done," she breathed. "Gen can have Draco, and Lucius can have me, for all I care. I'm not going to play his stupid game anymore."
Sweeney frowned sympathetically.
"You don't mean that."
"Yes, for the first time I do."
"What about Draco?"
"What about him?" she demanded coldly.
"Are you really willing to give up on him?"
"I don't have a choice! Haven't you been listening? It's over. I've lost!"
"You broke the first gag."
"That was before."
"Before what?"
"Before this!"
She lifted her shirt to reveal the thin but visible scar.
"How much more am I expected to lose before I finally admit defeat?" she demanded angrily.
He hung his head.
"That's your decision to make, of course. I wouldn't presume to make it for you."
"Good," she said shortly, straying to the glass wall again. "Is that all?"
He watched as she sought to dismiss him, though he resolved not to be so easily sent away.
"No," he said resolutely. "I couldn't find the evidence on La Genie, but I did find this."
He held up a long, thin canister. She recognized it as a transportation device for a painting.
"And what is that?" she said, feigning ignorance.
"You know what this is," he countered. "I know you do."
"You've opened it, then?"
"Not yet," Sweeney admitted. "It's been sealed with some major protective spells."
"Where did you find it?"
"It was buried deep in the vanished objects cache Lucius had in his office."
"And you stole it?" she demanded coldly. "Talk about kicking the hornet's nest, Swish."
"I left a very convincing copy in its place."
"What makes you so sure it's the painting from Sebastian's office?"
"Feel it for yourself," he said, tossing it to her.
The minute her fingers brushed the canister, she could feel the secret inside straining to get out. Sweeney was right; there could be little doubt that this was the painting.
A small part of her yearned to break the seal and look at it up close. However, she contemplated the look Draco had given her in Atlanta, the desire quickly fading to bitterness.
"What do you expect me to do with this?" she asked simply.
"You can't be serious," Sweeney demanded, his patience waning at last. "This is huge and you know it. This could be the key to finding Herpo's vessel."
"Then I'm happy for you," she said, turning her back to him again.
He grit his teeth angrily.
"You're giving up on this as well?"
"That's not my fight anymore, Swish," she said doggedly. "What happens with it no longer concerns me. Take it to Draco; he should know what to do with it."
"You would turn your back on us?" Sweeney demanded. "Leolin, we need you. This cause needs you. You can't abandon us now."
"I can do as I please," she countered. "Don't presume to tell me otherwise."
"I know how you must be feeling—" he began, and she wheeled on him.
"No you don't!" she demanded. "You have no idea what this feels like! I have spent the last five years in agony being away from Draco, and now, despite everything, I still can't have him. Even if I could, I can never be a mother! You could never know what I'm feeling right now! How dare you even try!"
"Leolin, please," Sweeney said. "This is all of our fight. We need you. Draco needs you. Don't give up on us or on him."
"Draco's lost to me, Sweeney," she spit. "Why can't you see that? As for your fight, I have no interest in it. I've given up enough."
"That's the thing," Sweeney said softly. "There is no such thing as enough in war. My whole family died in the first war; I know what it's like to feel lost and angry and sad. But we've been called, Leolin, and you most of all. Please, don't abandon us now."
"Get out" Leolin seethed, wiping an errant tear off her cheek.
"Leolin—"
"Get out of my fucking sight," she demanded hotly, and he shook his head in anger.
"You're making a mistake," he bit out. "And you're a fool if you think you have nothing more to lose. Lucius will take everything from you whether or not you fight. Think about that as you abandon your friends."
She turned her back to signal she would hear no more, and he stood a moment before shaking his head and storming out.
She turned to the window again. The dark cloud surrounded her now, and she watched as a fork of crooked lightening lit up in the distance. The booming thunder following not two seconds later. Two miles, she mused. The storm was nearly there.
She turned away as another thunder boomed. This time even louder. Rain began to pummel the glass, and she felt an odd unease encroaching on her peace. It was fear, she decided at last. Fear for the storm. She didn't fear the rain, though, nor the thunder; she was afraid of the storm she'd sworn not to face.
She grew agitated as another deafening crack of thunder sounded. It reminded her of the sound of the cracking defenses at the battle of Hogwarts. Just then her door burst open, and she screamed at the intrusion.
"Severina," she said, heart hammering. "What are you bloody doing here? And perhaps next time you would do me a favour and knock first."
Severina ignored her, dark eyes flashing dangerously.
"How dare you," she hissed at Leolin. "How dare you be so flippant with your responsibilities."
"Stay out of this," Leolin warned.
"The war's almost here. You can't just ignore it."
"Can I not?" Leolin demanded. "Don't presume to tell me what to do," she spit.
Severina shook her head in disgust.
"I know you're hurting, and for that I am sorry. But you don't realize how bad things are out there. Your friends need you, Leolin. Draco needs you. He'll never admit it to himself or anyone else, but he's falling apart without you by his side."
Leolin shook her head.
"Draco's lost to me."
"Only if you're truly unwilling to fight for him."
"There is no more fighting to be done!" Leolin screamed. "It's over. He'll never know the truth!"
"I don't believe that," Severina said fiercely. "He loves you still. è ovvio."
"He left me half-dead in Atlanta," Leolin pointed out. "He and I have already passed the point of no return."
"You couldn't be more wrong!" Severina said. "I've know you've lost something dear, but if you would only step back you would see that your race isn't run yet."
"No!" Leolin repeated angrily. "How many times do I have to be forced to my knees before I give up?"
"Fine," Severina said tightly. "Do what you think is best with Draco. That doesn't excuse you from the fight."
Leolin gave her a cold look.
"There is no fight without him."
Engaged, Severina grabbed her by the arm, shaking her. She was a beautiful and terrible sight, dark eyes flashing wildly and shimmering teeth bared.
"Do you think your duty can be so easily circumvented? We've all made sacrifices, Leolin. That doesn't excuse us from our responsibilities."
Leolin shoved Severina's hands off roughly before lifting her shirt to reveal her long, thin scar.
"Have I not sacrificed enough already?"
"We've all sacrificed," Severina repeated stonily.
"You?" Leolin burst coldly. "You haven't given up anything! You have a family and children; you have no idea what it's like to be me! I have nothing left."
"Don't you dare tell me I haven't given things up," Severina spit. "My brother died following Adrian's goons to Istanbul. Xavier's little sister's gone missing. Lyra Rosmund, the girl who saved your life in Atlanta? They arrested her family, and she's been dragged back to London to testify. She lied for you on the stand, Lefevre, and now Adrian's trying to hold her and her entire family in custody, so don't you dare presume to say you're the only one!"
"I don't owe you anything," Leolin spit out, even knowing that was a lie. "Get the hell out."
"How can you say that to me?" Severina cold with a cold fury. "I thought we stood for the same things. I thought you were a woman of principle."
"Principles mean nothing!" Leolin roared. "Duty and honour mean nothing. Wake up, Severina! This isn't an epic poem; this is real life. Look what happens to people who do the right thing! They're always punished! They sacrifice everything and get only suffering in return. Meanwhile, Lucius Malfoy and his thugs live like kings! There is no justice in this world, and to sit around and pretend there is fucking naïve and foolish."
Severina shook her head.
"You can sit around and mope here if you like, but don't delude yourself into thinking you're the only person who's lost something. We've all lost something, we'll continue to lose until we stop this madness."
Leolin only clenched her jaw.
"When did you grow so cold, tesoro?" Severina demanded softly. "Where is the godmother of my girls? My beautiful, terrible partner is crime?"
"That girl is dead!" Leolin screamed, tears in her eyes now. "I've been kicked to my knees more times than I can count, and every time I lose something more dear to me," she paused to take a shuttering breath. "I won't give any more ground."
"What ground is it that you're afraid to give?" Severina demanded. "You seem to feel you've nothing left to lose!"
Leolin paused, eyes full of tears. The anger had bled out of her face, and she looked pale and frightened.
"I've seen how this ends, Sev," she whispered softly, a tears skidding down her cheek. "I won't stand on that battlefield and watch one of you die."
"So you would sit at home and leave us one man weaker?" Severina demanded, face full of anguish.
Leolin sank onto the couch and put her head in her hands, sobbing in a way she hadn't since her wedding day. Severina sank beside her, gently touching her back.
"If I lose one more thing I'll go mad," Leolin whispered softly. "Try to understand."
"I do," Severina breathed. "More than you know. But you have to stay the course, Leolin. It's the only way."
Leolin took a great shuddering breath and fell into Severina's lap, who stroked her hair soothingly.
"I'm sorry," Leolin said. "I've been weak."
"Non," Severina said. "You're not weak; you've just had to be strong for too long."
Leolin took another shuddering breath, her head buried in Severina's neck.
"I only beg you to be strong for a little longer," Severina said.
"I can't face Draco after what happened in Atlanta," Leolin said softly. "I won't be able to handle it."
"Then I'll go in your place, cara mia. Let me be your voice for a while. I only ask you do what you can. Don't give up on the gag or the painting, and be kind to yourself. When you're ready, you can rejoin us."
"What about Audige?" she asked. "Swish said things are coming apart at the seams."
"I have something that will bring him to heel," Sev said grimly. "He doesn't frighten me."
Leolin bit her lip, and Severina dropped her forehead to meet Leolin's.
"I know it feels like your life is over, tesoro, but it isn't; it's just beginning. Stand with us and fight for the life you deserve."
Leolin nodded finally.
"Alright," she agreed solemnly. "I'm with you."
"I can't promise you won't have to sacrifice again," Severina said, and she stood. "I can promise you will regret it if you don't. Now, I have to go and tell the others," she said. "Take care of yourself, cara mia."
Leolin nodded again, standing too.
"Tell Swish I'm sorry," Leolin said meekly. "I was really unkind to him."
Severina gave a half smile.
"He told me it was already forgotten," Severina said, her smile widening. "That was just before I stormed over here."
Leolin gave a soft smile as well, the first since she'd returned home from St. Mungos.
"Keep the faith, tesoro," Severina said softly, kissing her forehead. "I'll see you soon."
Leolin nodded, straying to the window again as Severina slipped out the door. The sky was still dark, but the rainclouds seemed to have passed, and she could see, far in the distance, several slivers of glimmering light.
It had been four weeks since Leolin had seen Severina, and slowly she was building towards her old self again. She'd still not seen anyone but Severina and her mother, but she'd been a counselor like Langdon had suggested, and it surprised her how much it helped. She kept details vague, of course, but giving voice to her fears, particularly about motherhood, was oddly cathartic.
She'd also taken up yoga, and she rented a small studio space in Victoria where she could go and practice in peace. Silly as it sometimes seemed to her, the yoga provided a clarity that she had not enjoyed it some time, and she came home from each session feeling more powerful, both mentally and physically. That was not to say that her sorrow was totally forgotten, because even time she thought about Draco and Atlanta, she still felt a sickeningly ache deep in the pit of her stomach.
However, she took strength from Severina, who had promised to shield and protect her until she was ready to publicly join the others in the fight. In the meantime, she and Sweeney had begun discussing how to break the curses surrounding the painting, and she quietly threw herself back into the search for answers.
She had not yet touched the gag, though she continued to promise herself she would. At first she grew frustrated at her own weakness, but she began seeking to accept and respect her own feelings, and that made it more bearable. As long as she was breathing, Severina had once told her, there was more right with her than wrong with her. She knew she would start when she was ready, and when she did, she wouldn't give up until s he saw Draco freed from the ignorance Lucius had shackled him with.
Currently, Leolin lay on the floor of her darkened studio, sweating clinging to her chest, stomach, and arms. She'd turned the heat in the room up with a flick of her wrist, and it felt good to sweat out her worries. She lay on her back for a long time, listening to her own heart beating. When she rose, she did so slowly, wiping her arms and face before looking in the mirror and screaming.
There was more than one set of eyes looking back at her. Immediately she spun, but there was no one behind her.
She turned back.
"Surprise," Adrian said, approaching the glass partition as his gold eyes glittered against the eerie whites of his eyes.
He looked fierce, as fierce as he had the last time she'd seen him in New Orleans. As always, he was dressed all in black. His tawny hair was pushed dashingly off his brow, and his customary badge was clipped to his low-slung trousers.
An artic shard of fear slithered down her spine at the realisation that he'd likely come to question her about Audige. The fact that she didn't know the location of his prison cell could very well save her life.
"How are you doing that?" she demanded quietly, not quite brave enough to meet his gaze again.
She reached a hand to touch the mirror then recoiled, thinking better of it.
"Don't tell anyone," he whispered dramatically, teeth flashing. "But I can do magic."
He raised his eyebrows and widened his eyes as he said the word magic.
"What do you want?" Leolin sneered, already backing towards the door.
"There's no point in trying that," Adrian said in an even tone, prowling from mirror to mirror like a jungle cat and seeming almost bored. He was like a leopard in a cage no longer suitable to confine him. "Obviously it's not going to work."
She tried anyways, and the handle singed her. He watched greedily as she nursed her blistering left hand before appraising her.
"You look remarkable, considering you almost a few months months ago."
"Is that what you heard?" she asked, trying to keep her voice from quaking. "I'm afraid the story's been greatly exaggerated in the retelling."
"Nice scar," Adrian shot back, eyes nasty as they arched up her bare stomach. "Did Radomir give you that?"
"Yes, right before Draco killed him."
Adrian eyes glittered hatefully.
"How...fortunate your Draco was there like always to swoop in and save the day. Did he kill Nic, too?"
She approached the glass. His feline formed was quivering with pent-up aggression, and even though the mirror she could feel it ready to burst forth.
"No," she said in a soft but resolute voice. "That was me."
He clenched his jaw, and she smiled grimly.
"Didn't think I had it in me?" she asked.
He smiled back, though his gaze was incredibly nasty.
"You'll pay for that in time, " he saying, pressing both palms to the invisible barrier between then and coming nose to nose with her. "Make no mistake about that."
She recoiled, stumbling several steps back and eliciting a grim, satisfied expression from him.
"What do you want, Adrian?" she repeated, her mouth dry as she watched him slink gracefully back and forth.
"What do I always want? To talk, of course."
She shook her head, but he cut her off.
"Where's Audige, Lefevre? Give him back to me."
"I don't know," she choked honestly.
He growled his frustration and all the mirrors began to tremble at once. She backed away but it was too late; he'd somehow materialised in the room. She turned to make a break, though she admittedly wasn't sure to where, and he grabbed her by the swishing ponytail, yanking her around and pushing her against the wall.
"Don't toy with me, you insolent little brat," he sneered, slapping her smartly with the back of his right hand. "Where is Malfoy hiding him?"
"I already told you!" she said, holding her cheek. "I don't know. I haven't seen any of them in months; not since New Orleans."
"Don't make me hurt you," he warned.
"Adrian," she said, trying and failing not to grow increasingly fretful. "I truly don't know."
He struck her again and she crumpled a little. When she straightened, he slammed her back against the brick so hard it made her dizzy.
"Then I should punish you for not knowing," he breathed against her neck.
He was surveying her, sizing her up, and she could tell by his hungry gaze what he was longed to do to her. He forced a hand against the small of her black, crushing her hip against him.
"Don't," she bit out, turning her head away fighting hysteria back down her throat. "Please."
"Don't what?" he goaded, rotating his hips ever so slightly. "No need for false modesty, Lefevre. I've heard you beg for this more times than I can count. Perhaps I'll finish what I started with you in New Orleans. Merlin, I can't tell you how many times I've pictured you naked and writhing underneath me."
"Stop, Adrian, please!" she said, forcing her palms to his chest and vainly trying to dislodge him.
"Then give me Audige!" he growled, annoyed but unmoved by her struggling
"I don't have him!" she said. "You have to believe me! I have no idea where he is!"
She could feel his form tensing for the fight, and he struck her a third time for good measure even as he let her sink to the ground at his feet like a cowering slave.
"Yes," he said, crouching to her level and brushing the cool, flat face of the insignia ring on his left index finger down her contused cheek. Her lip had split open as well, and his gold eyes drank in the ruby red blood staining her otherwise pale lower lip. "Perhaps you don't know after all. I'll simply have to be patient, then. You lot won't be able to contain his power forever. When he escapes, I'll find him."
He rose, pacing away several steps in contemplation.
"Is that all you wanted?" she asked meekly, gingerly prodding her busted lip.
He turned on her.
"No, it's not. The minister wants you to do something for him."
"I'm sure he would," she said shakily. "But you can tell him my days of running errands are over."
"He said you'd say that," Adrian said, wheeling on her. She could see his desire to fuck her fading into a more sinister need to beat her senseless. "He also told me I could use any means necessary to coerce you."
She backed away from him in fear, but he was slinking back towards her again, teeth bared.
"Are you going to play nicely?"
She sneered but didn't respond, making for the door again instead. "Crucio," he sneered, and she crumpled immediately.
She screamed in pain, curling tightly into a ball as he kept his wand trained on her. Finally, just when she felt she could take no more he relented.
He crouched down to survey her as she laid heaving and twitching.
"What about now?" he asked again, tucking a damp strand of hair behind her ear. She turned her head away from his touch, but she finally nodded.
He straightened and began pacing around the room.
"All that really wasn't necessary, you know," he said hatefully. "What I need from you is painfully simple."
She said nothing, only remained quietly on her side as he continued to make lazy circles.
"What is it?" she finally asked.
"All you have to do is—stir the pot a little."
She shook her head to indicate she didn't understand.
"I'm sure New Orleans was a huge shakeup for poor Draco. After all, from what I hear, you did almost died in his arms. Unfortunately, it didn't seem like quite enough to dislodge Genevieve, so now I'm asking you to stir the pot a little."
"Why does Lucius hate her so much?" she asked. "Why does he want he gone so badly?"
"Let me worry about that," Adrian snapped. "You just do as you're told."
"Stop talking in riddles," she demanded. "Just tell me what you want me to do."
"Hmm," Adrian said, drumming his fingers against his perfect lips and pretending to be deep in thought. "How to put this delicately? Ah yes, that's right." He turned his cruel, searing gaze on her again. "I want you to go to the Em on a night you know Draco will be there wearing some incredibly revealing outfit and I want you to dance on tables and fondle strangers until he is so jealous he can't see straight."
"That's not going to get you what you want," Leolin said, struggling to her feet. "That would only make him hate me more."
Adrian shook his head.
"You forget I know him, too. I was with him the night you brought Kelly Troy to the opera all those years ago; he was with your lovely friend Severina and he was still going out of his head. Besides," he continued, eying her as if she were an expensive cut of meat. "You obviously have no idea the effect you have on men. Trust me when I tell you this will drive him wild."
"Fine," she spit out, feeling cheap and sick to her stomach. "Anything else his majesty commands?"
"Not for now," Adrian said, dragging his knuckles down her cheek as he licked his lips. She could tell he was dying to kiss her, and she slapped his hand way, breathless. He responded by clamping a hand across her throat and squeezing, his pearly teeth bared in a feral sneer. He was applying a tremendous amount of pressure, and she could feel herself turning blue. When she could take no more he relinquished his grip and she bent double a gave a nasty, jagged cough.
"Be good, Lefevre," he said as she massaged her throat. "You know I'm always watching."
Without another word, he disappeared back into the rippling mirror.