Lynn Vieh - His Lordship Possessed

He looked hurt. “You wouldn’t. Not after all we’ve been through these past two weeks. That haven’t happened yet.” He made a disgusted sound. “This is why I hate time travel. Everything you say about time is wrong and right.”

“I suppose I could be persuaded to allow you your freedom.” I sat back and thought for a moment. “I have three conditions.”

“I’m not a genie,” he reminded me. “I can’t grant you three wishes, turn you into a princess, or any of that nonsense.”

“You can give me your word that you will not possess anyone permanently,” I said.

“Oh, not to worry.” He waved his hand. “I’ve grown accustomed to living in spirit form.”

“Promise me.”

He looked up at the ceiling of the cab as he pressed his hand over his heart. “On my honor, I promise not to possess any host body permanently.” He winked at me. “Temporary’s more fun anyhow.”

“Second,” I continued, “you go into business with me as my partner.”

“Business? Work?” He recoiled. “What for?”

“Because you have nothing better to do,” I reminded him. “If you get bored, you can teach me everything you know about magic and mind powers.”

“You’ll never live long enough for that.” He saw my face and sighed. “All right, I’ll be your business partner.” He squinted at me. “What’s the third condition?”

“Tell me your name, Harry.” As he started to reply, I raised a hand. “Your true name, the one you were born to.”

“You’ll not believe me.” When I said nothing, he muttered something vile under his breath. “I haven’t used that for ages, Charm. Hundreds of ages.”

“Then back in the pendant you go.” I saw the panic in his eyes and added, “If you want me to trust you, Grandfather, then I deserve equal consideration. Tell me your name.”

And so he did.

When the cab reached the docks I was alone again. To avoid being trapped again in the nightstone, Harry had to put some distance between us before I touched the pendant.

“He’ll never change, you know,” he said before he left me. “Dredmore will always be a cold, selfish, dark-hearted bastard.”

“Yes.” I felt an odd quietude settle over me. “I expect he will.”

I was not surprised to find Lucien Dredmore standing in the exact same spot as I’d left him in the future, at the very end of the pier. It was like George suddenly appearing outside my office building; as if time had rearranged a few things to fill some gaps no one could see.

I stopped beside him to look out at the cold, dark ocean. The wind brought with it a cutting edge, promising snow. “Did you have any trouble dealing with the Tillers?”

“Hardly. They know my reputation.” He took the kerchief-wrapped stone out of his greatcoat and regarded it. “I have some knowledge of the warlord Zarath, and how many armies he commanded during the Aramanthan wars. His power to control had almost no limits. He is one of the greatest mages of all time.”

“He was.” I took the kerchief from him and heaved it into the waves. It sank out of sight. “Now he’s just another rock sitting on the bottom of the bay.”

He blinked. “That won’t kill him, Charmian.”

“He’s immortal,” I said, nodding. “Nothing can. But no one else saw, so only you and I know he’s there.” I glanced up at his stern face. “I’ve no reason to dive in after a rock, and you can’t swim. Isn’t that nearly as good as dead?”

A rusty sound came from his throat, and it took a moment before I recognized it as a chuckle. “Yes, I believe it is.” He faced me. “Are you ready to tell me about the future?”

I wasn’t going to enjoy this as much as chucking that Aramanthan jackass in the drink, I thought, wrapping my arms round my waist. “What do you want to know?”

He took off his greatcoat and draped it over my shoulders. “Why did I confide the most private details of my personal history to you?”

“I can’t say.” I tried not to breathe in the delicious scent he’d left on the wool. “You weren’t yourself at the time.”

Dredmore pulled up the collar so it shielded my ears against the wind. “What made you stop despising me?”

“I met him.” I nodded toward the water. “By comparison, you are a saint.”

Dredmore tipped up my chin with his hand so I had to look into his eyes. “Why did you save my life, Charmian?”

“You’re not dead,” I countered. “Do you want me to promise not do it again?”

“I want to know”—he bent his head and touched his lips to mine—“why you’re not slapping me, or threatening to push me off a cliff, stab me in the heart, or lock me in my carriage and set it alight. Why you looked so terrified when I came out of Morehaven this morning, and then in the next moment, so relieved. I want to know what changed things between us, Charmian, and how.”

I had to tell him something, but the future that we’d shared no longer existed. It didn’t matter what we’d done; all that mattered was what we would do now . . . and then I knew exactly what to say.

“I had a dream, a few days from now,” I lied. “I was buying peaches at the market, and I stumbled over a curb and twisted my ankle. You helped me up and offered to take me home. After that we became great friends.” I felt him go very still. “That never happened, of course, but when I woke from the dream, all I could think was how much I wished it had. That you and I had become friends instead of enemies.” I smiled. “It was all downhill from there.”

He didn’t say anything for a long time, and then he nodded slowly. “We could try to be friends.”

“We could.”

“Then as a friend I should tell you, that was a terrible lie,” he added. “Someday I will make you tell me the truth.”

I lifted my brows. “Is that what friends do?” I saw how he was staring at the spot in the water where I’d thrown the stone. “He’s gone, Lucien. Forget about him.”

“I wish I could, but Zarath was not the only warlord among the Aramanthan.” Dredmore’s voice grew as icy as the breeze. “There are many more out there. They are waiting, and watching, and plotting their return to power.”

Something rose up in me, something that almost felt like icy burning of the spirit stone Zarath had forced me to swallow. “Do you expect me to burst into tears and clutch at you and wail about how powerless we are against them? Because we’re not. I’ve seen how we are, and we are . . . formidable.”

“We are mortal,” he corrected.

“Oh, very well.” I tossed up my hands. “I don’t think I can cry, but if you like I could swoon. I’m actually getting rather good at faking that.”

“You’re not afraid of what’s coming.”

“Among other things, milord, I am a spell-breaker, and a time traveler.” I turned my gaze to the sea. “Let them come.”

“Disenchanted & Co.,” the sign painter read out loud from my office window. “That’s a right strange name for this sort of business.”

His young apprentice began mixing up some paint in a small can. “Sort of a pun, isn’t it, miss?”

“Sort of.” I handed the painter the shilling we’d agreed on for the job along with a slip of paper. “There’s the name of my new partner. Make sure you mind the spelling.”

“Whatever you say, miss.” He read the note. “Now this one’s mum must have known he’d go into the magic trade.”

As he and his apprentice went to work, I retreated into my office to sort out the mail. On top of the pile I’d taken from the tube lay a thin gray envelope sealed with silver wax that bore the impression of a spike-wielding fist.