His head whipped around. Cocking an eyebrow and actually snapping his finger, he said, “I know just the thing for you. Don’t go away.”
As if I could go anywhere right now. I couldn’t even move.
Five minutes later, Mace returned. His cocky expression, with his almost-smile, unnerved me. He was spinning two small metal bands around his finger. He clasped them in his hand, stopping their spin, then fanned them out as if showing me something cool. Crouching down he pulled one of my hands to his lips for a light kiss. I had to stop myself from rolling my eyes.
With quick efficiency, he clicked the thin delicate bands on my wrists. A tingle of sensation washed over me as the last bracelet closed. He chanted, a low murmuring unintelligible sound. I sucked in a quick breath as the metal resized to conform to each wrist, melding against my skin perfectly. A surge of energy enveloped my hands as the bands settled into place.
Mace pulled me to my feet. He tilted my head up to kiss me. I pushed him away.
“Ouch,” I said as a powerful shock surged up my arm. I jerked my hand away. “What was that for?”
His mouth turned into a mischievous grin. “I can’t have you going around touching people. Can I?”
I rung out my hand. The pain was dissipating to a dull throb, but I still had chills from the contact. I studied the bracelet. “Seriously? That will happen anytime I touch someone?”
He stifled a quiet chuckle.
“I’m sorry I touched you without permission, but don’t you think this is a bit extreme?”
He tapped me on the nose like I was a spoiled child then pulled me toward the basement stairs.
The basement was nothing more than a concrete box. Probably no more than fifteen-foot square. Half of the room looked as though a graffiti artist had tagged it while on crack. It was painted with hundreds of black and gold markings that covered the floor, walls, and ceiling. The other half was just bare gray cinder blocks and concrete—a stark contrast from its gilded neighbor.
Some of the markings were in the same Ancient script as the Devil’s brand on my arm. Others resembled Egyptian hieroglyphics. I had no clue what any of the symbols meant.
Collins was in the painted half of the room, creating a circle of salt. Lily’s unconscious body was lying outside the circle but inside the painted half.
“Will there be anything else, sir?” Collins asked, once the circle was complete.
“No, you may go,” Mace said.
As soon as we were alone, he started chanting. The melodious words could have been a song, but it was nothing the translator recognized. He was casting a spell in the Ancient language. I took an involuntary step back when a ripple of light pulsed through the markings causing them to flare and glow. Mace pulled me forward as the salt ring flashed red, and the glow from the room rippled around it. He spun me and pushed me through the threshold of the warded room. A pop sounded as his hands passed through the invisible wall. The glow faded when his chant ended.
I rubbed my arms. The room had become noticeably colder, dropping several degrees within seconds. “Why are you doing this?”
Ignoring my question, he said, “Stay inside the circle. It will protect you.” With his hands in his pockets, he turned on his heels to leave.
“Wait, you can’t just leave me down here.”
He pivoted to face me. “Would you rather come upstairs to my bed?”
My mouth dropped open. It took me a moment
,
then I said, “No.”
He grinned, as if he knew I was lying.
I shook away the memory of his hands on my body. Damn pagans and their sex on legs appeal.
“Don’t try to leave,” he warned. “The barrier won’t let you pass. It will knock you unconscious if you try.”
“The Boss—”
“You came here of your own free will, Claire. I won’t be denied. You’re mine now, and I intend to keep you.”
I stood there gaping. Was he serious?
Before words could return to me, he said, “Now I’m off to fix the mess you’ve made. We’ll settle up later, and finish the little game we started upstairs.”
Ten
The basement was completely dark. Mace had switched off the lights on his way out. I sat in the circle of salt, my legs crossed to be sure I was fully inside it.
Salt magic was old and powerful. I had no idea how it worked. But it would protect me as intended, which meant it would keep me safely out of Lily’s reach for as long as Mace wanted it to, or until he broke the salt line.
I could hear the low moans and whimpers of Lily’s fitful sleep. She would be awake soon. I closed my eyes and stepped outside my body. The symbols and markings glowed a bright green illuminating the darkened room.
The threshold that separated the painted half from the rest of the basement resembled a green wall of steel, with a transparent shimmer rippling over it like a wave in a pond. A faint blue halo circled one of the bricks on the far wall. I hurried forward to investigate, but my presence slammed into the barrier. I attempted to blink to the other side, but that didn’t work either. The halo disappeared moments later.
Frustrated, I stomped back to my body, ready to open my eyes. I stopped when I realized my physical form was bathed in white light. The salt circle protected me from the sickly green cast surrounding everything else, including Lily. Every square inch of the enclosure was marked or covered by the green glow that connected all the symbols. My presence was trapped by the markings as surely as my body was trapped by the threshold.
Thinking back, I remembered how the pulse activated the enclosure, sealing it off completely. I peered at my body, thinking about the wave and how it wrapped around the circle. The salt protected it. I studied the floor closely. The markings under the circle weren’t glowing. The salt prevented them from connecting to the other symbols.
Maybe it was my way out.
I jumped into the circle, basically standing on top of my body, which was weird. I thought of the main room upstairs. The one I’d been in with Mace. Instantly I blinked to that location.
The living room was empty. I stilled for a moment and listened. His voice drifted from one of the upstairs rooms. I followed the sound and found him in an office. The tropical theme had missed this room. It was an ultra-modern example of cold glass and steel. The only color in the marshmallow white room came from a large abstract painting. The vibrant red was splashed against the canvas as if it were a study in splatter patterns.
Mace was on the phone. Pacing. “Sin, we will figure out who did this. They will pay.”
There was a pause. I moved closer, but I couldn’t hear Cinnamon’s voice through the phone.
“Quit screwing around and bring the demon
here
. I’ll get him to talk, then you can kill him.” Mace’s neck corded as she spoke again. His tone was strained when he responded, “Yes, she’s here. No, I don’t know how she discovered you.”
He ran his hand through his hair, scratching the back of his head. “Yes, the twins are on their way. Sorrel isn’t well...” He paused.
Sorrel had been found.
Good
. I couldn’t complete Omar’s task without seeing them all. Of course getting away from Mace was going to be a challenge.
He sighed. “I agree. She can fix him— We’ll figure this out
together
.”
The desperation in his voice caught my attention. Why was he so adamant she come?
The twins were already on their way. “Why did he need Cinnamon?” I muttered.
“Because we’re stronger as one,” he snapped, and for a minute I thought he was answering my question. Running his hand through his hair, he sighed. “Look, no, I mean yes, you must join us.” He took another turn around the room, holding the back of his neck, waiting for her answer. After several tense seconds, he dropped his hand, and his rigid stance relaxed a fraction. His lips curved in his usual smirk. “Excellent. I’ll see you then.”
Cinnamon was coming, and she was bringing Charles.
I jumped when a pagan woman materialized in the office. She was beautiful—of course—her skin pale and flawless. She had blonde hair so light and translucent it was almost white. It appeared as fine as silk, and flowed down her back in long cascading waves. She was as tall as Mace’s six-foot-five frame. I dropped my gaze to see if she was wearing heels, but her airy dress covered her feet. Mace’s posture stiffened in her presence.
“Nephew, how are you?” she asked.
Nephew
? Obviously from his mother’s side of the family.
Mace bowed his head, but his shoulders remained tense. “Hello, Aunt. You look well.” His greeting was formal. Was he afraid of her?
“I received your message.” Her voice was delicate and melodic, but their tense postures made it clear the situation was painfully strained.
Mace’s head remained lowered. The muscles in his neck flexed. “I apologize for sending it, but the situation has changed. The others will be here soon.”
Her smile faded. Through gritted teeth, she asked, “What has caused this change?”
As if he were considering his words carefully, he paused then said, “Claire, Father’s assistant. She’s involved—I don’t know how, but she woke them.” He swallowed, then added in a pleading tone, “I’m afraid it hasn’t been enough time. They won’t cooperate willingly.”
The aunt’s arched eyebrow relaxed. A wicked grin crossed her face, which, for some reason, sent a chill down my spine. She ambled forward and lifted his chin. His eyes were still wide with fear, but softened a bit at her smile.
“She was in Purgatory?”
Mace opened his mouth to respond.
Without thinking I yelled, “Don’t tell her anything!”
He closed his mouth. As if he’d heard me, his eyes darted around the room.
The aunt swiveled her head to look in my direction. I gasped when her eyes met mine. Her smile widened.
Oh, shit
. She could sense me.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” she said, more to me than Mace.
“Aunt?” He followed her stare. His eyes scanned the area, but when he didn’t remark about my presence, I took that to mean he
saw
nothing. He couldn’t sense me, but he’d somehow heard me.
“Don’t worry, Nephew. All will be fine.”
“But you said—”
She put a finger against his lips. “We will discuss that later. Does your father know she’s here?”
“No.”
“I must speak with her...alone.”
Mace hesitated. “Alone?”
Her eyes became cold slits when he didn’t immediately agree. “Yes, alone,” she demanded.
Back-pedaling, he said, “Of course, Aunt. She is in the basement.”
She smiled, caressing the side of his face. “We will speak when I return.”
As she passed me, her cold essence rolled over my presence. “Are you coming?” she whispered.
My eyes flew open. I was back in the dark basement. Adrenalin pulsed through me. My heart rate increased with every second. She’d scared Mace—the scariest pagan I knew—and now she wanted to see me. Alone.
I swallowed, pushing down the knot in my throat as footsteps stopped at the basement door. Why was she happy I’d been in Purgatory? I flinched when the door clicked open. The lights flashed on overhead, causing me to squint.
An unveiled human with dark hair glided down the stairs, but I was sure it was the aunt. Her hair, which had been straight down her back before, was gathered up into a neat bun. Her flowing full-length dress was now a suit that reminded me of a modern-day Jackie-O—complete with a small strand of white pearls and earrings. She looked to be in her late thirties or early forties. Pretty, but not beautiful.
I was confused by the new style. She’d sensed me; didn’t she know I’d seen her? The hidden veil worried me. Someone who could scare Mace would have to be strong—Omar strong. Obviously, there were more people than I thought who could hide their veil.
She lowered her gaze to Lily, who was starting to stir. “Sleep,” she commanded, and Lily’s body went limp. Turning to face me, the woman said, “Do not worry, child. You’re safe from me...for now.”
My eyes widened.
She chortled. “The game will be so much more rewarding now.”
“The game?”
She studied me. “You look different than I imagined.”
I furrowed my brow. “How did you expect me to look?”
“Like a human, of course.”
“I am human.” Although I believed it less every time I said it.
Her grin broadened. “Your features are more pagan than human.”
Oh, please
. “You’re the pagan here, not me.”
She gasped, covering her mouth playfully with one hand. “Ah, clever girl. What else have you seen?”
Had she really not known I’d seen her true form upstairs?
I wanted to take a step back, but she’d wrapped her will around me so fast and effortlessly I didn’t even see it coming. Our eyes locked.
There was an increased pressure on my head, similar to the way it felt when the Keeper read my mind. I wanted to turn away, but couldn’t. The pain started almost immediately. I could smell the blood as it trickled down my upper lip. A ringing sounded in my ears. I couldn’t breathe.
“Stop,” I managed to force out.
I fell to my hands and knees when she released me. My lungs burned as I sucked in air as fast as I could. Still gasping, I raised my head.
She was in her true form now. Her simple long dress flowed effortlessly around her lithe body. The dress shimmered with an iridescent lushness I hadn’t noticed upstairs. Her hair was once again white-blonde, loose and flowing down her back.
“I’m surprised you made it out of Purgatory alive,” she said. “We will deal with that later. For now, I am more interested in your predicament.”
“Which predicament?” I wheezed out between gasps. The pain shooting through my head was relentless. My breathing was returning to normal, but every lungful still burned. I managed to push myself off the floor and stand.
She crowed a mirthless laugh. “Which one, indeed.”
“Yes, which one?” I demanded.