Only Scorpio’s successful jobs kept them safe and untouched.
“Don’t care. Move, witch.” Scorpio drew closer.
The male had dropped to cradle the female in his arms. They stared at each other wordlessly. Maybe speaking through the mental link that some couples shared. Fucking sappy…and dangerous.
Scorpio ducked as an arrow of light fired from an amulet the female held. With a soft pop, it dissolved behind him on the stone.
Enough. With cold dispassion, Scorpio yanked a blade from his thigh sheath and flung it into the male’s neck.
He made a garbled sound. The female screamed and struggled to her feet, stumbling on her injured leg. “No!” she screamed over and over. Blue jagged streaks of light shimmered around her as she tried to formulate a spell.
The male slumped to the stone. The female took one glance at him then turned to Scorpio, eyes suddenly calm and full of malice. “Die, demon!” She raised her hands and magic shot forth from her palms. Two flares of purple light stretched toward him, racing through the dark night.
Scorpio dropped and rolled to one side, then leaped to his feet. In a fluid motion, he grabbed a dagger from the many he had concealed on his body, and threw it.
It landed with unerring precision—in her heart.
He strode to the couple and yanked his weapons from their bodies, wiping the blood on their own cloaks.
The old witch clenched her fists. “You are the devil,” she hissed. “You will suffer for what you have done here.”
Scorpio sheathed his weapons and allowed a frisson of relief to ease his mind. His family would be safe for another night. “Witch, I’m not the devil. I just work for him.”
She held her hands wide. “These two had just discovered the joy of bonded love. They did nothing to you. Nothing!” Her voice grew strong as she stared hard at Scorpio and spoke rapidly. “I curse you now, demon. One day you will meet your destined mate. The very instant you are in her presence, you will recognize that she is your other half, your female, and you will be seized with the need to claim her. You will ache with the need to complete the bond. But she…” the witch’s voice grew low, “she will despise you for the monster you are. She will avoid you as if you’re poison to her. You will be in agony, demon. Let it be done!”
A breeze coiled around the witch as she spoke, and in a cold rush, it blasted Scorpio’s body. He stepped back, but it didn’t matter. There was nothing to step back from, as the chilled air was gone as soon as it arrived, leaving a curious prickle across his skin. In seconds, that too was gone.
The witch huffed and turned to walk back to the other side of the bridge. Scorpio shook his head. Mate? Not in the cards. He was already living his life for two people. Every action was for his brother and sister. Every kill, every drop of blood, every scar he received. It would be nothing compared to the depravity the twins would endure at the hands of Dalamos’s men, if Scorpio didn’t continue with each grisly task.
Fuck mating. He’d never wanted that. “Your effort is wasted, witch,” he called after her.
She half-turned as she reached the far side. “No, demon. My spells might only be related to matters of the heart, and not of great weapons or wards,” she paused, one eye piercing him, “but they always,
always
…come to fruition.”
C
HAPTER
1
Realm of Torth, Present day
S
CORPIO’S FINGERS CLOSED AROUND THE
bars of his cell in the garrison of the witch village. Normally, he’d be able to rip them from the wooden walls of the small building, but not this time. His cell was under the effect of a dampening spell. And he’d been seriously injured.
His acute senses were dimmed, his strength was diminished, and he couldn’t summon demonfire. But he’d been in worse situations. And anyway, he was going to be moved from here soon.
Brought out for judgement
, his jailer had said a few days ago.
Until then, he’d bide his time and let his body finish healing as fast as possible with the damn spell hindering it.
Until then, he’d act like he wasn’t a threat.
Because once he was out, he could track
her
.
For the week he’d been locked up, he hadn’t caught the intoxicating scent of female twined with honeysuckle. He had no idea who it belonged to or what she looked like. But he wasn’t leaving here until he found her. That fragrance curled into his senses and captivated him, binding him with curiosity and desire unlike anything he’d ever felt.
He had to see who it belonged to. See, touch, and
know
. This female was heart-stoppingly important, for reasons he couldn’t explain.
A key jangled in the lock of the outer door, rousing him from his thoughts, and a familiar red-haired female strode in. Inga, the coven’s healer.
“Good morning, demon.” She walked close to his cell, staying just out of reach should he stretch his arms through the bars. Seconds passed as she assessed him with purely clinical efficiency, as she’d done every day, using the power of her mind. “It appears you are fully healed.”
“About damn time.” He gestured to the cell around him.
“It is necessary and you know it.” She folded her arms. “Better to take a week to heal than to die.”
He grunted. So far, the witches hadn’t treated him badly, but that might only be because they wanted him at full health in order to practice torture spells on him. “When are you letting me out?”
“I’ll report your health status to Chief Mage Hallon and we’ll see what he says.”
The outer door burst open and a tall dark-haired male entered. “Inga.” He glared at the healer. “It’s not safe for you to be in here alone with him.”
“Seriously, Orser?” Inga rolled her eyes. “If he could get out, he would have done it on day one.”
“Wrong. He could barely stand on day one,” Orser growled.
That was true. The way Scorpio had ended up here, among people who hated him, was one of the more bizarre things that he’d experienced in his long life. He still didn’t fully understand it.
He’d been on an op with his team of Watchers and it had gone south fast. The enemy had some kind of explosive spell charges that had activated his pre-spelled transportation amulet. But instead of taking him home to Watcher HQ, he’d landed on the sharp rocks of the Bronwy River. With broken ribs and a gaping thigh wound, he’d been an easy target for the witches to find and bring in.
Of course they remembered him from the last time he was here. Twenty years ago, he’d killed the previous chief.
Now the coven wanted him dead, as well. Never mind that he’d been forced into life as a conscripted killer. The
why
of it didn’t matter to the witches. He would stand before their judgement if that’s what they wanted.
A gray shape darted around the door that Orser had left cracked. The jailer cursed, but not before the thing streaked across the wooden plank floor. It stopped in front of Scorpio, tail twitching.
A…cat?
It stared up at him with big yellow eyes.
“Get that thing out of here.” Orser reached for it, but it jumped fluidly toward Scorpio, fitting its lithe body between the bars.
Orser frowned at it. So did Scorpio. He wasn’t a cat person. Or a dog person. Or even a people person. He preferred weapons and obstacle courses, tactical plans and espionage gadgets.
Those didn’t expect anything of him.
The cat looked at him knowingly, then, turning to face Orser and Inga with its head high, it parked its skinny rump on Scorpio’s foot.
Inga stifled a snort.
Orser shook his head. “You wanna die, cat, go ahead. He’ll probably eat you.”
Scorpio slid his foot from beneath the furry bundle. Witches and their damn animals. It was amazing one hadn’t gotten in here before today. In fact—
Honeysuckle
. It drifted up to his nose, faint but tangible.
Frowning and incredulous, he turned to the feline, who lifted a delicate paw to wash its face. He stooped to pick it up by the scruff of its neck and its body went slack as he raised it to eye level. As he held it closer to his nose, the remarkable scent was clear. “Whose cat is this?” he demanded.
“We have dozens of cats here. Fuck if I know,” Orser muttered.
Inga gave Scorpio a scrutinizing look and turned to Orser. “Anyway, the prisoner is healed.”
“Good,” Orser said. “Now we can get on with your punishment or sentence or whatever the Chief has in mind. I don’t know what twist of fate brought you here, but I can tell you this. I’m not the only one who can’t wait for justice to be served. Come on, Inga.” Orser strode to the door and waited expectantly for the healer.
“I’ll be right there,” she said in a clipped tone, then held up a hand at his ensuing growl. “No. I’ll be fine. Go.”
Slam!
The wall of the tiny building shook as the door smacked hard into the frame. Scorpio lowered the cat, who went back to its bath as if it hadn’t just added to the confounding mystery of this place.
Inga sighed and paced. “It goes against my nature to sanction torture. Inherently I will want to help you, but I cannot.”
“I understand the concept of loyalty,” Scorpio muttered. Loyalty was as essential as breathing to him, right along with his work as a warrior. Pledged to his commander and to his siblings, he understood integrity and allegiance. Hell, his hands would be forever reddened by actions he’d taken in the name of protection.
Inga opened her mouth but Scorpio kept talking. “I can take whatever your friends dish out. You wanna help me?”
“I am conflicted, demon. I know you had no choice, yet I also sense no remorse. Where I can read most people’s emotions, in you, I feel mostly a void. Cold.” She walked to the door. “I don’t think I can help you.”
Scorpio lunged forward in the cell. “Find out who the cat belongs to.”
Inga’s eyes slid from Scorpio to the feline. “I also cannot put a sister in harm’s way.”
“Then get out!” Scorpio bellowed. He shook the steel bars as rage poured through him. Rage that had nowhere to go. If not for the stupid dampening spell, he’d have healed in a day. He’d have burned down these walls and found the female.
The door snicked shut as Inga left without a word. Scorpio stalked to the cot that served as his bed and plunked himself down, the wood frame groaning under his weight. The damn cat seemed to take it as an invitation, jumping up next to him and setting two paws on his thigh.
Scorpio shook his head and grudgingly ran a hand over the animal’s back, surprised at how soft its fur was. He couldn’t remember petting an animal in affection. Sure, he’d fought dire wolves and hellhounds and had to touch them, but their fur was rough and stank to high heaven. “Who’s your mistress?” he asked.
The female’s scent clung to the cat and as Scorpio touched it, more was released into the tiny space. All it did was make him furious with the need to find this female and…and…do what? It’s not like he could take her to dinner. It was more likely she wouldn’t speak to him.
None of this made sense. He didn’t know anyone who smelled like honeysuckle. This couldn’t be an old fling. He inhaled again as his brain flipped through females he knew, attempting to catalog it.
On top of that, he needed to contact his commander. His body had taken seven days to heal. Arawn, the leader of the Lash Watchers, would be pissed. Scorpio had never been AWOL for a week.
He ran a hand over his almost-bald head. He kept his head shaved, but after a week it was starting to grow back. It was a pain in his ass, plus, the ridiculous color he’d been born with was all wrong for a warrior.
The cat bumped his hand with its head and then settled on Scorpio’s lap, purring as loudly as a dragon and apparently deciding to stay a while. Beyond the walls, Scorpio heard hints of voices as the witches did whatever they did in their daily routine.
He dropped his head back against the wall. Extra sleep was something he didn’t need, but that would benefit him later. Honeysuckle invaded his nose and hung in the air, insistent and strong despite the dampening spell. That female…he needed to match the scent to the person. Then he could formulate an escape plan. He’d gotten in and out of nightmares in his jobs for Dalamos, and this little coven of witches would be a snap.
C
HAPTER
2
T
HE SCRAPE OF METAL ON
metal was Scorpio’s only warning before the prison’s outer door opened. He shot to his feet, dislodging the cat. The glow of one tiny fire bulb hovering outside his bars was a pitiful buffer against the black night.
Several men entered, each carrying weapons and lengths of blue glowing rope. It looked like barely more than a length of ribbon, but once it bound someone, it couldn’t be undone without a spell. And the bound individual would be unable to do it themselves.
Scorpio expected no less. The group was led by a tall broad-shouldered male with dark hair. Gray streaked his temples. He carried no weapons—no blades or arrows—but only a staff. It hummed with a constant thrum of magic. The male exuded authority and power, and a sense of knowing that what he ordered would be done. Or he’d do it himself.
“The infamous mercenary Scorpio.” The man’s deep voice rumbled as he stopped in front of the cell. “Hard to believe you just dropped out of the sky and into my coven. Did you miss us?”
“I’m no longer in that line of work. I’m a Watcher now,” Scorpio muttered. Hell, he wasn’t sure if the coven knew that, despite the realm’s common knowledge of Dalamos’s death.
“So we’ve heard.” The man clasped his hands behind his back. “Yet you left a path of destruction a goddamn mile wide.”
Scorpio glared. “You’re Hallon?”
The man nodded.
“The past is done. Nothing will bring your leader back.”
“Those words may be true, but your presence has evoked a new, unrivaled anger. Do you have any idea what we’ve gone through in the last twenty years?”
“No.” Scorpio shook his head. “I had a job to do.”
“That you didn’t have to take!” Hallon’s eyes sparked with anger.