Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 95475 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95475 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
“Show me.”
She opened the journal to a page marked with receipt paper. Charlotte’s handwriting described a ritual that required physical contact and shared focus, a temporary connection that would reveal whether bloodline resonance existed at sufficient strength.
“It’s safe,” Delphine said. “According to the text. No permanent effects, no risk of memory loss or consciousness alteration. Just a diagnostic test.”
“You trust Charlotte’s definition of safe?”
“I trust that she wouldn’t deliberately endanger her own descendants.” Delphine met his eyes. “And I trust you to stop it if something goes wrong.”
The confidence in her voice. “All right. We’ll test it.”
They cleared space on the floor, pushing furniture aside until they had room to work. Bastien drew the pattern Charlotte had specified, chalk lines forming interlocking circles that looked simpler than they were. When he finished, Delphine stepped into the left circle. He took position in the right.
“Now what?” she asked.
“We focus on the same point. That mirror.” He indicated the antique glass hanging on the far wall. “And we maintain physical contact. Hand to hand is traditional.”
“Traditional,” she repeated with hint of amusement. “You’re very formal sometimes.”
“Centuries of practice.”
“That’s not actually reassuring.” But she extended her hand.
He took it. Her fingers were warm, grip steady. They stood together in the chalk circles, hands joined, attention fixed on distant glass that showed their reflections standing slightly too far apart to match the reality of their clasped hands.
“Breathe,” Bastien said. “Let your awareness settle. Feel the resonance beneath the city’s noise.”
“I have no idea what that means.”
“You will.”
He let his own awareness expand, reaching past surface concerns into the deeper currents where power moved through geometric channels and bloodline magic responded to inherited patterns. The mirror on the wall sharpened. Their reflections clarified.
And something warm flooded through the connection where their hands touched.
Not heat. Energy that belonged to neither of them individually but emerged from contact between bloodline gifts that complemented rather than competed. Her capacity for stabilization meeting his ability to channel and direct, two halves of a system Charlotte had designed to function across temporal gaps.
Delphine went still. “I feel it.”
“I know.”
“It’s warm. And steady. Like . . .” She paused, searching for description. “Like my hand’s asleep but in a good way?”
“That’s the bloodline resonance. Your gift is activating in proximity to compatible power.” He watched their reflections in the mirror, saw the way light gathered around the space between their joined hands. “Charlotte built this deliberately. She knew her descendants would need partners who could help anchor the work.”
“Partners,” Delphine repeated softly. “Is that what we are?”
The question went deeper than magical compatibility. He made himself meet her eyes instead of hiding behind technique and professional distance.
“I’d like to be.”
Her smile arrived slow. “Me too.”
They stood together while resonance pulsed between them, neither quite ready to break the connection. The warmth intensified slightly, then leveled off, settling into steady rhythm that felt less like magic and more like breathing synchronized across two bodies.
Finally, Delphine released his hand. “Well. That was informative.”
“Yes.”
“And not at all weird or intense.”
“Not even slightly.”
She laughed. “Liar. That was super weird. But also . . .” She flexed her fingers, examining them like they might have changed. “Also kind of incredible? I could feel the network. All those sites you mapped, all that geometry. It was there in my awareness, clear as anything I’ve seen with my actual eyes.”
“Because you’re an anchor. You can perceive the structure directly instead of inferring it through data.”
“So I actually can help.”
“Yes.”
She nodded slowly, processing implications. “Then we should start tonight. While we still have stable sites to work with.”
“Are you certain? Once we bind you into the network as deliberate anchor, separating might be difficult.”
“How difficult?”
He chose honesty over comfort. “I don’t know. Charlotte’s notes suggest the bond is permanent, but she also built escape clauses into most of her workings. We won’t know for certain until we try.”
Delphine absorbed this without visible fear. “If the alternative is watching your network collapse and letting mirror contamination spread unchecked through the city, I’m willing to risk permanent magical commitment.”
“That’s not a small decision.”
“No. But it’s mine to make.” She touched his arm briefly, fingers warm through fabric. “And I’m making it. Let’s anchor this thing properly before something worse happens.”
They worked through the night. Visited sites across the Quarter, testing whether her presence stabilized the inverted nodes. They discovered that when she stood within certain proximity, the violet light faded back to blue. The corruption reversed, at least temporarily.
By three in the morning, they’d confirmed the pattern. Delphine could anchor the network. Could hold stability where Bastien’s wards alone had failed.
They returned to his apartment as dawn approached, both exhausted but satisfied with progress. She collapsed on his couch without ceremony, kicked off her shoes, and pulled the throw blanket over her shoulders.