The Dragon Heir

“Well,” Leesha said. “They didn't seem glad to see me.”



Jason snorted. “What'd you expect?”



“You make a few teensy mistakes…” Leesha said, pouting. “That's the thing about small towns, they never forget a thing.”



Jason laughed. She had attitude, he had to admit.



“Are you staying with family, or what?” he asked.



“With my great aunt,” she said. “She's like, half deaf and three-quarters blind. That's how I ended up here before. My parents are wizards, but they're sort of always on the move, you know? And really busy.” Her voice trailed off. “So. Whenever they get busy or I get in trouble, I have to come live with my Aunt Millisandra. It's like the worst punishment they can think of, sending me to live in the Midwest.”



“And is it?”



She shivered. "There's worse things. I didn't actually get kicked out of school this time. Jessamine Longbranch—d'you know her? Warriormaster for the White Rose? She was the one who planned to play Jack in the Game. That thing with Jack at the high school—Longbranch had recruited me to spy on Jack, but I kind of went out on my own.



“So. She has this big grudge against me. It took her a while, she's been distracted, but anyway, I came home one day to find two assassins waiting in the residence hall.” Leesha stared glumly out at the frozen lake.



“And?” Jason prompted, when he finally caught up and realized she hadn't finished the story.



“Well, they're—you know—dead, of course,” she said, shrugging.



Okaayy Jason thought, studying her with new respect and not a little apprehension.



“But it could happen again, and I didn't want to be looking over my shoulder all the time. So I came here.”



“So how long are you here for?”



“Long as I can stand it, I guess. This town's really changed. It's like a fortress. How does the sanctuary work, anyway? Is there really some kind of rule against attack magic?”



“More than a rule,” Jason said, figuring Leesha wasn't into following rules. “It's enforced with magic. Hexes, attack magic, curses, black magic sefas—anything stronger than Persuasion—they don't work in here.”



Leesha stared at him in disbelief. “Really?”



“Really.”



She smiled, pressing her fingers into her neckline. “Cool.” She stepped close and looked up at him with wide eyes. “Who enforces it, anyway? I mean, must be someone with a lot of talent.”



He took a quick step back, remembering who he was talking to. “Must be. Well, here's your ride, I think.” It was just a guess. The valet had pulled up in an Audi TT. Jason went to turn away.



She gripped his arm, sending a current of Persuasion up into his shoulder. “I really need to stay here. I know I've done some bad things in the past, but people change.” She searched his eyes.



“I'm not the one you have to convince,” Jason said. “Maybe you should start with Jack.”



She wrinkled her nose. “Jack's been mad at me ever since I broke up with him. And after that whole deal with the traders, I don't think that's going to change.”



“Then talk to Hastings.”



She flinched. “He's so scary, you know?”



He did know. Hastings gave the impression he could see right through you. Which might be a good thing where Leesha was concerned.



Jason figured she wouldn't stay in the sanctuary long if Hastings didn't want her there. But would he really make her leave? Especially since she couldn't use attack magic.



Still, Persuasion in her hands might be weapon enough, he thought.



Leesha's hand was still on his arm. “Maybe you could talk to him for me?” She gazed up at him. Her eyes were a kind of violet gray, like smoke on the horizon.



Jason had his own petition to deliver. He took back his arm. “Sorry. I can't help you. I just don't have that much influence.” Jason backed away like a courtier from a queen, then turned and headed inside.



He looked over his shoulder, once, and saw Leesha still standing next to her car, her hair a cloud around her head, looking small and vulnerable and very much alone.



Chapter Seven A Change of Plans



By 10 p.m., the contingent from Boston had either left or retired to the bar. A DJ had set up in the ballroom, and music pounded out over the lake. Jack and his friends gathered in a windowed sitting area off the ballroom. A fire crackled on the great hearth, and they dipped hot chocolate out of great silver tureens. The jackets and ties came off as soon as the chaperones faded.



The Weir were well represented: Jack Swift, Ellen Stephenson, Seph McCauley, and Jason Haley. Plus Will Childers and Harmon Fitch, who were kind of honorary members of the guilds. And Madison, who was something else entirely.



She recalled Min's warning, years ago. Beware the magical guilds. Promise me you'll stay away from them. Swear.



Maddie had sworn, and yet, here she was. I can't help it, Gramma, she thought. You'd understand if you were here. She was wedged into an elegant loveseat beside Seph, conscious of his hip pressing against hers, the soft buzz of power flowing through. She tried to ignore it.



He seemed totally at home at these dress-up affairs—not stuffy, but in context. He still looked dressed up, even though his jacket was off and his sleeves rolled, long legs extended and crossed at the ankles. His shirt was so white it hurt her eyes, his collar starched, the crease in his trousers still perfect.



Madison had found a vintage emerald silk dress at the consignment shop, bias-cut, with seaming at the hip and gores that flared out from the knee, and a black crocheted shawl with long fringe and tiny beads and sequins. It had cost all of fifteen dollars, which she couldn't afford. It was kind of low cut, which made her fuss with the straps and pull the shawl closely around her shoulders. Her strappy sandals were silly in the snow, but then she wasn't known to be practical.



Some of the East Coast boys had asked her to dance, and she declined. She wasn't going to say yes to them when she had to say no to Seph. Seph was a great dancer, but one slow dance with Madison might sicken him for days.



Still, she couldn't help tapping her foot to the music and wishing they were out on the dance floor. Also, if she were dancing, she wouldn't have to hear about the traitorous wizard Leesha Middleton all night. She was already tired of the subject.



“Leesha's up to something,” Jack said. “Otherwise she'd never come back to Trinity. She used to complain there was no place in Ohio she could buy cute shoes.”



“I have that problem, too,” Fitch muttered, to general laughter. “No, really, I mean, you try and match an outfit …”



Despite his jokes, Madison couldn't help thinking Fitch looked a little twitchy—with good reason. Leesha had kidnapped him and Will.



“She'd better not come near any of us,” Ellen said. Meaning Jack, no doubt. She paced restlessly around the elegant room, picking up objects and setting them down again. “I kept hoping Hastings would come out and say something, but he and Linda didn't stay too long.”



Seph straightened, as always, quick to defend his father. “Look, Leesha's just not a priority for him. There's not much she can do, not with the boundary up. She can't use attack charms here.”



“You don't know her like we do,” Ellen said, scowling.



“I know her well enough,” Seph said, scrubbing a hand through his hair. “We met in a club in Toronto. She slipped wizard flame in my drink.”



“What?” Madison stared at Seph, suddenly more interested in the subject of Leesha. “I didn't know that.”



“She seems really scared,” Jason said.



Everyone turned to look at him.



“What? Don't tell me you believe her.” Jack made an irritated sound. “Are you crazy?”



“She says both Wizard Houses are after her,” Jason said, leaning against the brickwork around the fireplace. “And that they'll kill her if she leaves the sanctuary.”



“When did you have this little talk?” Jack rolled his eyes. “I mean, she just got here, and you're already best friends?”



“I didn't say that,” Jason replied, looking mulish. “I ran into her by the desserts.”



“You don't just run into Leesha Middleton,” Fitch said. “I've found that out.”



“Whatever.” Jason flipped his hand, dismissing the subject, and turned to Seph. “I'm hoping your dad'll take me back to Britain with him. Maybe you could say something?”



Seph shrugged. “I guess. I've barely had a chance to talk to him. I'll probably see him tomorrow.”



Jason pushed away from the wall. “Well, I'm going. I'm meeting some people.”



“Hope it's not Leesha,” Seph called after him, grinning. Jason batted the comment away with a rude gesture and disappeared around the corner.



“I think I'll go, too,” Madison said. Will and Fitch seemed comfortable enough, but these days she always felt edgy among Seph's gifted friends—afraid the hex magic might suddenly surface and give her away.



It'll be better in the fall, she thought. He'll be safe away at school. He'll be away from this whole magical battle/siege mentality.



He'll be far away from me, she thought, and it felt like something was stuck in her throat that she couldn't swallow down.



“I'll walk you home,” Seph said, standing and helping her to her feet, not giving her a chance to decline.



When they arrived back at the inn, the parking lot was nearly full. It hadn't been easy to get the night off for Jack's party, and Madison hated to give up the tips.



They circled around to the less-traveled side entrance. Seph followed her onto the porch. “Mind if I come in for a while?” he asked, looking down at her. His eyes darkened to a deep blue green.



Seph had a way of watching her with those witchy eyes that made her stumble over words and into walls. He could suck all her breath away and set her heart hammering without so much as touching her. It was dangerous to be alone with Seph McCauley—not because of what he might do, but because of how she might react.