Secrets and Magic Ch. 02

Hey everyone! Yes, it has taken me forever to update. My computer crashed and I lost everything, so that was a HUGE setback. But anyway, thanks for the wonderful feedback on Chapter 1 and all your votes. I hope you guys enjoy Chapter 2 and show me the same love you did last time!

Aden held Jack closer when he felt her shiver. Even though he'd reversed the spell, she would still experience some lasting discomfort. He was sorry for what happened, but an angry part of him felt she deserved it. She had no business listening in on his conversation; just look where it had gotten her. And him for that matter. The pain in his back was still throbbing from the effort of catching her in his lap. If he hadn't moved as fast as he had, she'd be a collapsed heap on the floor.

Jack made a sound, prompting him to examine her with more detail. She was breathing evenly and her skin seemed to be warming up, but there was a slight crease in her brow. He wondered what would happen if he pressed his lips to it. The thought was crazy, but it made him think of other things he wanted to do. Aden let images of Jack's body pressed beneath him flit through his mind. He could see her brown legs wrapped around him as he took her. Would she cling tightly to him and cry out? Or would she simply moan her pleasure? By the stars, he hungered to know.

The breath he took barely calmed him. This was insanity. He was supposed to be furious with her, not thinking about spreading her across his bed. Jack was little more than an annoyance. He hadn't sought her out; he didn't want her services... he didn't want her there. Then, to compound matters, she had already learned in a day what they'd tried so hard to keep hidden. Aden's expression hardened; the woman was a nuisance. That made him feel better. The renewed anger soothed his demeanor, making him feel more like himself. The way he was acting, like some untried schoolboy, would have to stop. He could not allow Jack to affect him.

Merced arrived shortly after he was summoned, his face revealing nothing upon seeing his Prince cradling their new arrival. Aden watched while he quietly carried out instructions to return Jack upstairs, while fighting sudden resentment at his own inability to complete the task.

"We have a problem," he said as soon as Merced returned. He explained what happened, including what he and his brother had discussed.

Merced thought a few moments before responding, "She can be trusted."

Aden sat up straighter and remained silent. He didn't like the idea of Jack knowing anything about them, but he would take Merced at his word; the Ca'lai had a gift for knowing these sort of things. He made a face as a bit of pent-up tension left his shoulders. Jack would never know it, but she'd just been saved the experience of having her memory altered. The process was painstakingly slow and intricate, and it affected each victim a different way. Sometimes it was painless, and others times it was excruciating; there was no way to tell beforehand which it would be.

"I will speak to her then."

The light glinted off of one of Merced's bracelets as he adjusted it and changed the subject, "So, the Shadow Mages are unable to control whatever new Magic they gain."

"The inexperienced ones at least. I imagine the more practiced fare a bit better." There was a pause, "I think we have enough information to assume whatever means they are using have nothing to do with long hours of study and guided application. As I suspected, it's Dark Magic."

"The reports have yet to confirm that, Your Highness," Merced frowned.

"In the time they take to figure it out, the Shadow Mages will regain whatever footing they had. We both learned the forbidden acts; you know I'm right. You also know the bigger the sacrifice, the bigger the jump. And the more they do it, the harder it is to stop."

"Then what they forfeit grows in value each time," the young man's eyes filled with distaste. "You don't think..."

Merced left the question hanging there but Aden knew what he was asking, "It is unspeakable even for them, but we mustn't exclude it from the realm of possibility." The idea clenched his stomach. Would they really go that far?

Both men were thoughtful, but suddenly Merced spoke as if a piece just clicked into place, "It's no wonder your wound couldn't be healed through traditional means then." He lightly kneaded a wrist.

"Yes," Aden's eyes took on a subtle darkened glow, "It wasn't until the recent findings from home and speaking with Adrian that I was certain. I will admit, however, to hoping for a different explanation."

"What happens now?"

"The ones who started the war are out still out there; they've lost this time but I doubt they've just given up. They are planning something and while they are doing it, they are expanding their powers. We didn't encounter any of this during the fighting because as cults go, only the ones in charge ever reap the benefits. And no matter what lofty reasons they make up, the end result is always control. Whoever directs the Shadow Mages does so with the intent of absolute power." Aden narrowed his eyes, "And what happens next is: we kill them."

Merced appeared calm as usual, his face back to revealing nothing, but his eyes had now darkened as well, "I was unable to fight the first time, but know my skills are now at your service."

Aden gave him a sidelong glance. To most people in the kingdom, the Ca'lai were a mystery. They practiced the same Magic - only it was different. Their people came from the south where population was sparse and trees were the majority. From what he knew, they enjoyed nature and preferred to be outside... and they weren't easily excited. He liked that. They were also fierce warriors. He liked that even more. He had yet to see Merced in combat, but assumed the appointment as his 'assistant' meant he knew how to handle himself.

"You had a responsibility to complete your training; no one blames you for that. What good is a man with tools if he doesn't know who to use them?"

"Of course, Your Highness." It was quiet again, then Merced said, "Dark Magic is most dangerous when the source is unknown. Like medicine with illness, some spells and actions conquer certain people better than others."

"Right," Aden replied. "It's too bad the one who attacked me is dead, a chance to interrogate him would have greatly increased our knowledge. But in the meantime, I will continue to speak to Adrian and you should continue reviewing the reports from home; soon we'll be done here and able to return."

"You're going to go on with your sessions?"

Aden sighed, "Yes. This is my father's wish, and I will carry it out. Once it proves to be pointless though, I'll urge him to let me come back." He ran a hand through his hair, "Until something obvious happens, he and the others will be reluctant to believe the kind of danger they're in. They are equipped to fight wars, not twisted philosophy."

Merced shifted his weight and rubbed the back of his neck, "If you go home, you still wouldn't be allowed in public."

Aden tensed, "We'll deal with that when the time comes." Merced was right, but that didn't stop his frustration from instantly flaring up.

He absolutely hated to be reminded of his injury.

Zechariah Stone was not happy. Somewhere out there was the man responsible for his failure. Not failure, he quickly corrected himself, setback. Somewhere out there Prince Aden still lived and breathed, a glaring roadblock to the throne he coveted. Zechariah let the fury sweep through him; all the plotting and strategizing had been for naught. All the sacrifices he'd made - what did they mean now?

To come so close and gain nothing was unacceptable. He needed a prize, something to show his attempts weren't in vain. Zechariah needed Aden's life. And he believed it was only a matter of time before he got it, especially since he was one step closer to learning his whereabouts. Zechariah took no stock in talk of Aden being off on some meaningless space tour; he wasn't the kind of man for such frivolities. Aden was gone for an entirely different reason, but what?

A knock interrupted his deliberations. "Enter," he called out in a clipped tone.

Tomas, his servant, crossed the threshold of his quarters and stood before him. "Master Zechariah, the pilot has finally broken." He continued in excitement, "He told us Aden took a shuttle to Earth a few months ago and that it was the only destination in his itinerary."

"Earth? Interesting. I don't suppose you could be more specific though? As you know, it's a rather large place," Zechariah replied, his voice deceptively calm. He smiled coldly, causing the young man to shudder involuntarily .

Tomas shrank a little, "N-no sir." He avoided the black eyes pinned to him. "I just thought it wise to tell you what we've gathered so far."

Zechariah sighed, "Come here Tomas." When he was near enough, Zechariah reached up and playfully fingered a curly blonde lock.

"Master?" The question held a hint of uncertainty... and something else.

"How well do you know me?" Zechariah asked, while moving his hand down to cup a flaming cheek.

"V-very well sir."

"Yes," came the soft reply, "you've learned very well what pleases me." Zechariah's thumb began moving in small circles. "And," he went on after Tomas pressed himself closer, "you've learned what upsets me."

"Ahh..."

Before his prey realized the change in tone, the burning took hold.

The amount of pleasure that tore through Zechariah made him groan; he loved the way those blue eyes, at once trusting yet wary, filled with pain. His hand fell away from the injured skin, leaving a smoldering mark in its place. One particular pang of satisfaction was made better when Tomas bowed his head and remained silent.

"The next time you disturb me," Zechariah watched the last tendrils of smoke leave the torched area, "have a full report."

He signaled the end of their meeting and Tomas turned and left. Zechariah made himself more comfortable as he exhaled. He rolled his neck a few times, enjoying the remnants of bliss that coursed through him. What he did had been necessary; Tomas needed to learn. The boy was an adult now and would be treated as such. Reports were useless unless they contained enough information to act on. However, Zechariah reflected, the new knowledge was pleasing.

No longer content to sit, he jumped up and began to pace. His dark robes swirled about him as he moved. Why would Aden be on Earth? How anyone could stand that backwards mudball of a world was beyond him. But soon, he promised himself, soon he would know. Zechariah made his way over to the only window in his chambers. The sky was a deep purple, signifying night's approach. Tomorrow, the second sun would shine and throw the heavens into a perpetual dawn. He caught his reflection and stared. His eyes, once the color of azure, were now dark and lifeless. His hair though, looked much the same. The flaxen strands hung free and framed his face. Sometimes Zechariah thought a stranger gazed back at him, but such was the cost.

By no means did he consider himself a bad man, he just refused to be bound by the restrictive laws of his people. They felt Magic should be practiced with limitations; he felt otherwise. Zechariah believed the stretch of their powers was infinite and that it was their duty, as possessors of such greatness, to explore it to the fullest extent.

Which was why he had founded the Order of Shadows.

Surprisingly, recruiting others who shared his vision had been easy. Together, he and his followers discovered much. Ah, the things they'd done... dark things; things that both terrified and exalted. All for the sake of knowledge. But that wasn't enough - it never would be, he wanted others to experience their own truths. What better way to achieve that than rewriting the laws? And what better way to do that than to push for political power? Of course, that was where things fell apart.

Loyalties to the royal family were greater than they first suspected, which frustrated Zechariah. Couldn't people see they were being oppressed? Couldn't they see the power being denied them? Apparently not. And then there'd been Aden himself to contend with, so powerful... and talented. Something shifted within the void of Zechariah's eyes. He still couldn't accept how the Prince had rallied his men and allies. Even with all the Order's skilled misdirection and distraction, he still won. It didn't matter now though, because once he got rid of Aden his way would be cleared. There would still be two Princes and a King to deal with, but all things in time. He had his priorities after all.

Zechariah lingered a few moments longer then headed for his bed. He undressed and crawled between the sheets. Hopefully Tomas would have more to go on soon. At the thought of his servant, the corners of his mouth lifted faintly. Perhaps he'd been too rough earlier.

And there was really only one way to make up for it.

Jack was sure road kill felt better than she did at the moment. Her body ached all over and her muscles were stiff as boards. She groaned and tried to sit up, but a wave of dizziness made her think better of it. What happened to her? The last thing she remembered was going down to the kitchen to get something to eat and then... what? Jack settled herself further into the bed and stared at the ceiling. It wasn't long before her brain racking paid off. The events leading to her miserable state came flooding back.

Snippets of Aden's conversation replayed in her head and Jack frowned. The injury he refused to talk about was received when someone attacked him. And that someone was dead now, and if they weren't already, Aden would have killed them anyway. Wow. She wondered why someone would target him. Her eyes grew big then when she remembered how his blazing glare held her to the spot. Her heart began to pound when she recalled the icy sensation that permeated her core. Somehow Aden was responsible, she was certain of it. The idea was unbelievable, and yet... not. Jack wasn't a cynic by nature, she liked to think she always kept an open mind. But it was really hard to wrap her brain around what she was considering. Was Aden... supernatural?

She snorted. It would be her luck to land a job with someone right out of a science fiction novel.

There was a nice breeze blowing in so Jack threw the covers back to enjoy it. The action caused her to wince, but the cool air caressing her body was worth it. She decided to give sitting up one more try, and was in the process of settling herself when a knock came at the door.

Jack relaxed and bade whoever it was to enter. A small jolt of excitement raced through her. She felt like someone about to receive all the knowledge the universe had to offer. The question was: was she ready for such a thing? Could she handle whatever information she was about to learn? Jack watched as the knob slowly turned and the door swung open. Her eyes landed on Aden. He was sitting there watching her pensively. She wasn't going to bother asking how he'd gotten upstairs. He moved to be next to her, and Jack swallowed. She could feel the way his gaze slid over her and suddenly she regretted leaving the comfort of her blankets. The t-shirt she was in only stretched to mid-thigh. And it didn't escape Jack that someone must have undressed her. A warm feeling unfurled in the pit of her stomach as she pictured Aden's hands on her.

"How are you feeling?" The chill in his voice was enough to reverse her engines a little bit.

"Sore but otherwise okay," Jack answered, attempting a similar tone.

Aden studied her before asking, "Are you aware of what happened to you last night?"

He sure wasn't one to beat around the bush. "Not entirely," Jack's expression narrowed, "but I think there's a few things you might want to tell me." That sounded more accusatory than she'd intended.

A twinge of annoyance colored his face. "One thing I can tell you is," the displeasure was clear in his voice, "eavesdropping rarely benefits the listener."

That definitely took some of the wind out of her sails. Jack sighed. He was right, she should have just minded her own business. She lowered her eyes and tried to decide if she could stomach apologizing to him. The idea didn't sit all that well with her, he was the last person she wanted to say 'I'm sorry' to. Jack stared at Aden from beneath her lashes; he looked different. Then it dawned on her that his hair was hanging loose. The dark strands fell well past his shoulders, straight and thick. When she met him, he must have had it secured away from his face. If possible, he looked even better. Most of the time long hair on men did nothing for her, but on Aden it was extremely sexy. She shifted a little, making her top ride up a hair of an inch. The skin on her legs began to tingle and she knew his stare was concentrated there.

"Merced and I," he started almost distractedly, "are... unique."

There was that feeling again, like she was on the precipice of something huge. Jack let the words sink in before picking up her thread of the conversation. "Unique how?"

Aden's eyes shone with their usual intensity when they caught and held hers. He appeared to be going over something in his head. "We have certain abilities."

Jack reached up to tuck a curl behind her ear, and waited for Aden to go on. She could feel him following her hand as it returned to her lap. Good grief, he made her nervous. "How much do you know about Magic?"

So there it was. Jack knew what Aden was getting at. She knew he was revealing the truth, yet she still wanted to scoff at the notion. How utterly unreal. So many thoughts happened at once, all she could do was laugh. The sound rose up from the part of her that was anxious and shocked - and from the part of her that knew none of this was fake. This truly was turning out to be something right out of a book. She shook her head as one last snicker snuck free. Magic. Of course.

Aden didn't seem all that impressed with her sudden eruption, but Jack doubted he was ever impressed with anything. She coughed to clear her throat, "Aside from stories and movies? Nothing." A whisper of a giggle slipped out, "In fact, until now, I didn't think it existed in the 'real world'."

His expression didn't change, "It most certainly exists in the 'real world', as you call it." Some hair fell forward and he immediately raked it back.

Jack crossed her legs and saw his eyes shift there. Oh right, she was half naked. The thought popped into her head that she wouldn't mind being completely naked with him, but she quickly curbed it. For all his staring, Aden was probably just thinking she should cover up. He came off like someone who found everything inappropriate. "No need to sound so offended. It's not everyday I hear something like this."

Aden shot her a look. "Merced says you can be trusted. Of course," his jaw tightened, "you were never supposed to find out."

Jack felt a surge of awkwardness that pushed her farther into the bed. You do one little thing... "So what now?" It was as good a question as any, but mostly she'd asked it to break up the moment.

He was studying her so intently, her insides felt exposed. Jack didn't think she would ever get used to his eyes. "Our first session was scheduled for today, but we will postpone it until further notice." Aden perused her from head to toe. "You will require a few more days before the effects dissipate."

That last part brought her up short, stilling the flush threatening to break loose. "Effects? Of what?" Like she didn't already know; at this point it was fairly easy to guess.