Excerpt: Now and Forever

I am known for two things. Confidentiality, reliability and being able to handle myself in a fight. Well, that's three things. But the first two are only really possible because of the third. And the third, lets just say being a magic-handler helps.

It's taken a couple of years to build up the reputation, but anything I can carry I can deliver – in a reasonable time frame and with no questions asked. And because I'm a magic-handler, a black-lighter even, I can transport objects of a more sensitive nature. Not that I appreciate being commissioned to take a cursed medallion from the Alchemists Guild 'cross town to the Metropolitan Museum for exhibition, but I can handle it. And it paid well enough.

There is one place I don't like doing business with – The Ether. It's not really a guild, not really a club, but some amalgamation of the two, and populated by the elite of the magic-handling world. Many of whom still feel that untrained 'hands like myself should still be locked up in slatty workhouses 'til our bodies give out and our souls leave this world for the next. The scar on my hand hurts with the memory.

Damn fucking elitist pricks. I was seventeen when the laws changed and being a black-lighter ceased to be a crime. By that time I'd been in the workhouse for twelve years. I'd already been branded. And there was nothing that would change that. They were made to be unremoveable. Not by magic or alchemy or even chirurgy. So I'm left with a permanent reminder that I was born something detestable.

******

Rain falls softly as I stand on the corner and wait. Wait for my suitor to pick me up for our first real date. It would be more comfortable in the sitting room of the boarding house, but then I would have to deal with the questions and looks from the other girls. I get enough of those as it is.

Every now and then I see a little golden wedge in the shadows as they pull back the curtains and peep out, trying to figure out what I’m doing. Who I’m meeting. Even if I didn’t have my suspicions about Cullen I would be standing out here just to spite them. Nosy little twats.

The cobblestones under my boots tremble and the rumble of a massive engine shakes the night air. In the foggy night it is difficult to see much of anything; the car slides right up to me before I make out its sleek shape. Black and shiny and throbbing with the pulse of a massive steam engine. The driver nods polite, not taking his hands off the levers that keep the vehicle in check. “Evening, miss.”

Fortunately the door opens before I have to think of any sort of response. I content myself with a slight nod and step inside the car with a sigh of relief. I’ve never been in anything other than one of the tiny little trucks we use for deliveries. This is much different. Plush benches run down each side of the car, the ceiling is paneled in wood and illuminated by tiny lights that remind me of the night sky.

I pause, suddenly very aware of the water dripping from my coat and puddling ‘round my boots. Cullen seems far less concerned, immediately rising from his seat in the rear of the car with a smile that is warm and intriguing. “Good evening, Aisling.” A pause. “I may call you Aisling?”

“Yes.” I force a smile, wondering which part of this seemed like a good idea. “If I may call you Cullen?”

“Always.” He takes my hand gently and presses his lips against my fingers. As cold and wet as I am his skin is still cool against mine. He looks at me intently. “Is something wrong?”

“Well.” I wave a hand at the velvet seats and worked brass. “I was not expecting quite so posh a ride.” Another gesture, this one taking in my soggy self. “I am hardly...”

“Ah.” He shakes his head quickly. “It is no heavy thing. We will put your coat over there,” somehow his hands whisk over me, unbuttoning and removing my coat in the space of a heartbeat, “and we will sit over here.” He guides me to the seat in the rear of the car.

“Are you sure?” I brush the front of my waistcoat, nervous.

“Quite, my lady.” He kisses my hand again. “You deserve nothing less.” Pulling a little lever in the wall, he settles comfortably beside me as the car chuggles into motion. “Have you been well?”

I think about the long days at the delivery service. The lonely nights in the boarding house. “Well enough.”

Cullen nods and for a moment there is something very sad in his eyes. “I know,” he says quietly. “But tonight we will put that behind us.”

I want to ask how he expects me to do that, but that seems rude. Even to me. So I nod and smile and this time it is not as forced. “I would like that.”

*****

Winchester Park is beginning to breathe with life. The trees have put out leaves, small and delicate, and the air smells of green and the vague scent of night-closed flowers. I'm a little disappointed not to be going out to Cullen's house. The promise of the long car ride, the long night that usually follows are all that has kept me going the past couple days. But I suppose we can't spend every night together fucking like rabbits.

"Well?" I lean my head against his arm as we wander down the path.

"Well?" he says.

"You said there was a surprise in store."

A soft chuckle and his fingers squeeze mine gently. "You will see." At first I think we are wandering aimlessly, drifting deeper and deeper into the park. But after a few minutes I sense Cullen's gentle direction. A nudge here, a tug there, until we stand on the river bank staring up at a massive weeping willow.

The moon is up and the leaves are all silver, whispering quietly in the breeze. "This?" I say doubtful. It's beautiful but I don't fancy giving up a night of sleep for a scenic tour.

"Come on." He sweeps the curtain of leaves aside and pulls me through.

Inside the tree is actually quite impressive. The light... scintillates as the branches sway overhead. He bends his head and kisses me, light and teasing. We sway in a rhythm like the tree, moving a few steps and then pausing, a few more, a pause, moving in a spiral, slowly winding in toward the center of the tree.

Cullen steps back, watching me intently. "Do you trust me, Aisling?"

"Sure."

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a slender rope. "Do you trust me?"

Just when I think there's no new territory to explore. But my answer is the same. "Yes, Cullen." I hook my fingers into the front of his coat and pull him close. "I trust you."

He smiles and takes my right hand in his. Kissing it gently, he lifts my arm over my head and ties my wrist firmly to the willow branch. Then the other arm. He pauses for a moment, his hand resting right between my breasts. Right over my heart. Which is skipping along at quite a clip. "Easy, love." His tongue brushes over my lips, then pushes deep into my mouth, soothing and demanding at the same time.

Instinctively I try to pull him closer but I cannot. I curl my tongue around his, sucking him as deeply into me as I can but I'm powerless to stop him when he steps back. Reaching into his pocket again, Cullen removes a piece of cloth. He kisses my forehead and then blindfolds me.

I take a deep breath. And wait.