Page 38 of The Wolf Queen’s Curse

“Julius does act better when he’s not actually acting,” Bishop says. “But, I realize, you may want something different, Cordelia.” He looks over. “If such a situation arises again, where I need you to behave as if you are unaware of my plan, do you actually want to be unaware of it?”

I don’t answer immediately. In fact, I consider the question all the way to the train station, where our bags will be waiting, along with Kenric. Then I say, “I would have a problem if I felt like a fool for not knowing. That wasn’t the case with Rufus. I would also have a problem if not knowing put me at risk, but I trust you wouldn’t do that.”

“I would not.”

“Then my answer is that for now, do the same as you’d do with Julius. I’m not sure how good an actor I am either. If we decide I can pull it off, we can change things. Does that work?”

“It does.”

We’re on the train. Bishop hadn’t bought an advance ticket for Rufus—perpetuating the fiction that he hadn’t anticipated him joining us. While we get another first-class ticket, our compartment only holds four. Kenric is quick to sit in another compartment. A little too quick? Damn it. Now that Rufus has expressed concerns, I’m going to interpret everything Kenric does as suspicious.

We start the journey in conversation, mostly between Julius and Rufus. Rufus teases Bishop about being quiet, and he can be, when he’s content to relax and listen. I’m not nearly as reticent, but here I will be, when I’m listening and learning.

At a lull, Rufus looks at Bishop’s hand, clasped with mine, and smirks. “I don’t think she’s going to run away, boy.”

Bishop only adjusts his grip and gives Rufus a cool, half-lidded stare.

“Are you sure you ought to bring her along?” Rufus says.

“She is my wife. My mate.”

“Do you plan to lord that over them? In defiance of a tradition shared by the Caledonian Pack?”

He means that the Caledonian Pack doesn’t allow wives, which the Albions had also forbidden until I came along.

Bishop says, “The marriage was Silas’s decision, and we had no say in the matter. Would it look better if I’d left Cordelia behind? Perhaps also left her out of my story? And then, when their spies discover Silas’s daughter is my mate, as they will, it will seem as if everything I said might be a lie? That Silas gave me his only child, and I repaid the kindness by killing him? Or, if I tell them about Cordelia but leave her with my Pack, it might suggest she has a different accounting of events? Or that I don’t trust the Caledonians around my mate? Or that I don’t trust my mate around them? Or that I am so uncertain of my power that I dare not bring—”

“Enough.” Rufus lifts his hands. “I yield.”

“Bishop knows what he’s doing,” Julius says. “And Cordelia really is another fighter at his side. One they will not expect.” He looks at me. “Do you have your knife, Cordelia?”

I take the folding blade from my pocket.

Julius chuckles. “Ask Bishop about that knife. He bears the scar of it from their first meeting.”

Rufus tilts his head as he looks at me. “Witches use weapons? Is that because they lack offensive spells?”

“Careful,” Julius says. “That treads dangerously close to being offensive itself.”

“No,” I say. “It’s a valid question. While we did have offensive spells, yes, we’ve lost most of those. I know sorcerer magic, though.”

“And witches can cast sorcerer magic?”

My lips twitch. “I will spare you the history lesson, but there is a school of thought that believes we were once a single spell-casting race. Witches and sorcerers can use both types of spells, though it’s easier to learn their own. Most sorcerers refuse to cast witch magic, considering it beneath them, which is to the advantage of witches who know both.”

“And the knife?”

I shrug. “It was a weapon of opportunity that I kept.” I try not to think of where it came from—Henrietta, the cousin I accidentally killed. “I was trained in pugilism, though having been with the Pack, I realize I need more. As for why I need to physically fight, spellcasters have a limited supply of power.”

I’m ready to leave it at that, but Rufus leans forward, hands on his thighs. “Limited?”

“Yes, which I suppose is useful information if you’re fighting one. An experienced and older spellcaster will have deepened their well of energy through practice. But for a young or inexperienced caster, if you duck and dodge their spells, they’ll eventually run out of power.”

“Like a man spent after—”

Julius coughs.

I give Julius a look. “Really? You should know by now that you don’t need to censor yourself around me.”