Bad Boy Prince: A British Royal Stepbrother Romance by Vivian Wood

Author:Vivian Wood [Wood, Vivian]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Vivian Veritas Publishing
Published: 2016-02-02T23:00:00+00:00

4

Chapter Four

Rhys

Wednesday, 11am

“We need more than just a vague location,” Rhys said as all three men stared into the scrying mirror, which was reflecting a pleasant and brightly colored block of the Faubourg Marigny, an upscale neighborhood close to the French Quarter filled with immaculately kept traditional Creole cottage style homes. “The fact that she’s somewhere on Spain Street doesn’t really help.”

“Mmmm…” Gabriel said, considering. “Well, there’s one thing I can try. I haven’t done it before, but I found an obscure spell that might show us what our girl looks like.”

“Will it kill anyone? Scorch any eyebrows?” Aeric asked, giving Gabriel a meaningful glance. A month into their residence at the Manor, Aeric had let Gabriel use him as the test subject on a summoning spell. The apple in Aeric’s hand didn’t move an inch, much less fly into Gabriel’s waiting hand, but Gabriel did somehow manage to singe off Aeric’s eyebrows and eyelashes, which Rhys found quite funny.

“No,” Gabriel said defensively. “I told you, one of the words in that spell was smudged. It wasn't my fault.”

“All magic belongs to the magician,” Aeric started in. The Viking had strong feelings about magical responsibility, making Rhys wonder once more about Aeric’s former life. He was secretive about his ability to shift and his knowledge of magic, distrustful of women, and easily overwhelmed by new technologies. Unfortunately for Rhys’s inquiring mind, Aeric was a tight-lipped, overly private bastard who never talked about his past for more than a moment or two.

“Okay, okay,” Rhys said, checking the gold watch on his wrist. “We don’t have time for this. Gabriel, do the spell.”

“I need the girl. Andrea, I mean,” Gabriel said.

Andrea was brought over, Duverjay hovering in the background and shooting the Guardians distrustful glances. Gabriel had recently begun to take a page from Mere Marie’s book; when he did spells, he now combined the physical ingredients ahead of time and tucked them into a palm-sized white linen sachet. Depending on the spell, the sachet might be worn under clothing and against the skin, burned as it lay inside a circle of salt, cast into the river, or any other number of symbolic gestures.

This spell called for Andrea to place the coin-sized sachet on her tongue as she pictured the spell’s target. Rhys winced sympathetically as Andrea sniffed the sachet and blanched at the scent of it, but she dutifully followed orders and then closed her eyes.

After a brief incantation, Gabriel raised his hands before Andrea’s face. He made a pulling gesture, grabbing at the air near her eyes and pulling his hands backward. A thin gray mist appeared in the air, giving them a flickering black and white moving picture of the young woman who Andrea’s mother befriended.

The image was shoddy, giving few details. The woman had pale skin, light-colored hair, and dark eyes set in a heart-shaped face. The single glimpse of her body revealed a sweetly curved hourglass figure clad in a chic but modest retro-style dress. For some reason, though the details about her were few, Rhys felt a stirring of attraction low in his belly.

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