Page 79 of Once a Rogue
“Sebastian said it was.” Wesley carefully opened the top so Arthur could see inside.
“Oh God.” The look in Arthur’s eyes was heart-breaking. “How do you have Rory’s ring?”
“We found it in the safe at Alasdair’s speakeasy. And I have it instead of Sebastian because we didn’t know how he might react. Alasdair slipped him something last night that makes him sick when he uses his magic.”
“Did he do that to Rory too?” Arthur said worriedly. “To Jade and Zhang? Is Sebastian still at least free?”
“I don’t know,” Wesley admitted, closing the box. “We weren’t together when I was captured, but Alasdair said he sent a message to Sebastian pretending to be me.”
“Well, shit,” said Arthur. “So you and Sebastian are friends now, then? Jade said you were, but I confess I wasn’t going to believe it unless I heard it from your lips.”
“Friends.” Should he explain Sebastian was his—lover? Boyfriend? Were they telling the others anything at all? Maybe not yet. Wesley cleared his throat. “You have Rory’s magic in your aura. I have Rory’s ring. If I can somehow get this ring to you, can you use it?”
Arthur shook his head. “Rory’s magic holds my aura together; it doesn’t give me the power to use magic.”
“But surely we can do something with this ring? It’s bloody powerful, isn’t it?” said Wesley. “Alasdair was able to feel it through the lead box.”
“What?” Arthur scrunched his nose. “He couldn’t have. No magic gets through lead, a paranormal who sees magic told me that.”
“He must have,” said Wesley. “Alasdair said he heard magic on me—muffled so he couldn’t tell what it was, but he did hear it. It had to be the ring. Sebastian didn’t actually enchant me—well. In any literal sense. What other magic could it possibly be but the ring?”
Arthur made a helpless gesture. “The longer I’m around magic, the less I know.”
“So we need Rory to work this ring, but we don’t know where he is.” Wesley frowned. “It’s a big property. Lots of other buildings. And at least some of the non-magical people around here are willing to work for Alasdair. Perhaps we’re not the only ones being kept here, but the message Alasdair sent to Sebastian—he told him to meet me at the governor’s son’s masquerade tonight.”
“Walter’s masquerade?” Arthur said. “Why?”
“I don’t know. I think we can assume it’s not for a good reason.” Wesley hesitated, but if it had been him, he’d want to know. “Your brother John was planning to be there.”
Arthur flinched.
“I’m sorry,” Wesley said, and meant it. “I finally find you and I can do nothing but make it worse.”
“Not your fault.” Arthur ran a hand over his face. “But Wes, what are we going to do? How are we getting out?”
Wesley helplessly shook his head.
For once in his life, he didn’t have a smart response.
Chapter Twenty-Two
There was a man in a uniform with a list in hand, checking with each driver as they pulled through the mansion’s gate. As the car in front of him disappeared down the long drive, Sebastian eased the borrowed car up to the man. “Sebastian de Leon. I was added to the list today.”
The man in the uniform scanned his list. “Yes, sir. Here you are.” He gestured down the drive. “They’ll help you park at the house.”
A few minutes later, Sebastian was parked and climbing the mansion’s wide white steps. Jazz drifted from the wooden double doors at the top of the stair, each propped open with another giant jack-o’-lantern. Beyond the foyer, he could see the mansion’s crowded downstairs, men in black suits interspersed with women in bright dresses. Several of the guests were wearing pieces of costumes—odd hats, wigs, boas and feathered half masks—and most hands held a cocktail glass or cigarette.
Sebastian stepped into the first room, a circular space under a giant chandelier. Two wide staircases carpeted in red curved up to the second floor. Sebastian stayed to the edge, gaze darting around the room. John Kenzie was there, like an older but equally dashing version of Arthur in a tuxedo and top hat. His arm was around an elegantly beautiful woman with strings of beads and a dress that shone in the light, and they were laughing, their attention on a boisterous man dressed as Uncle Sam.
Sebastian approached quietly. John saw him first and smiled. “Mr. de Leon, wasn’t it?” He held out his free hand to shake Sebastian’s, introducing the woman at his side as his wife, Emma, and the man dressed as Uncle Sam as another New York City alderman. “Pleased to see you again. If you’re here, does that mean Arthur and Lord Fine are hiding somewhere?”
Sebastian’s heart fell. “I was hoping you could tell me.”
“Haven’t seen either of them,” John said regretfully.
“Perhaps they’re with Walter.” Emma held a glass of what might have been champagne.
“Is he feeling better?” Sebastian asked.
