Jacob's Trial [Forbidden Legacy 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) (13 page)

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t?”

“Because you’re already facing charges of treason, Wizard Book. Wizard Wentworth is here on orders. You’re here with a Fae.” An older man shrouded in the cloak of power stepped through the broken door. Tall and broad of stature with steel-gray hair and a dangerous aura, he dragged Helcyon’s attention from Michael.

Cassandra’s Wizard partner possessed not even an ounce of this man’s threat.

“Inquisitor General.” Jacob’s tense greeting amped up the alarm flowing through Cassandra.

Helcyon threaded his power into the ground, reinforcing the shield. He calculated the distance to Underhill and the speed with which he could push Cassandra through. Their best chance would be to send her alone, but that went against his instincts.

The darkness slithering around the inquisitor general writhed with barely contained energy. It shivered over his skin, threads leeching out to test the viscosity of his shields.

“You weren’t interested in introducing us, Wizard Book, and I think it’s time Cassandra Belle and I had a long discussion. You can kill the Fae.” The elder’s gaze went to Cassandra. “And I suggest you choose wisely.”

Jacob’s shoulder butted against his as they both surged together, blocking her from his eyes.

“I told you he wouldn’t cooperate, sir.”

“Be quiet, Michael.” The inquisitor general took another step into the room, the hovering darkness drifting around him like the black cloud of death. The aura of his magic tasted of pain, suffering, and death. “Fae, you are not welcome here.”

“Your opinion wounds me.” Helcyon spared a faint smile for the Wizard, studying the way the darkness ebbed and surged. The tides of it reminded him of a poisoned ocean, turned black with the sticky refuse of crude oil.

It fought to cling to Helcyon’s shields, but he spun them, shivering the energy and refusing it a foothold.

“You gave me three days.” Jacob pushed the tense words through his teeth as though fighting a losing battle against control.

“Wizard Book, this is your opportunity to defeat the charges you face before the Council convenes. Kill the Fae and present the woman to me or face his fate.”

Cassandra’s hand brushed down Helcyon’s spine, her fingers feathering over him, and just like that his shields solidified, crystallizing energy into the air. The geometric patterns interlocked much like the armor he wore.

Energy flowed between them, pulled into Cassandra and returning, filled with greater force and tasting of both the Wizard and their shared lover. Helcyon’s lips curled upward at the shock rippling over the inquisitor general’s face.

The connection to Underhill redoubled. After centuries of being dammed up by isolation, his connection to the land flooded open, pouring wild energy through his blood. His sword shimmered, sizzling with power.

“This is your warning.” Vigor thundered through Helcyon’s voice. “Retreat or be destroyed.”

Once upon a time, the Wizards would never have dared to turn on them, for their magic came from the Fae, but the Fae were magic. They bled energy. They recycled it by inhaling the latent power of the earth and exhaling the potency back to the land itself. Flowers bloomed where they walked, blight retreated, and death itself shivered under the weight of the life surging in their veins.

Helcyon’s body throbbed with the intoxicating vitality he’d nearly forgotten he once possessed. Lifting his chin, the heat surged into his gaze, warming his eyes, and he knew they glowed with the power bridging through Cassandra’s slender body, filling him to overflowing.

“I will not repeat myself, Wizard. Choose.”

Shock rippled through Jacob, energy snapping around his skin like storms of static energy, arcing to splice with the power rolling off Helcyon.

“Book?” Uncertainty squeezed the outrage in the inquisitor general’s voice.

“You heard him—sir. Step back, and take your pet psychopath with you.” Jacob didn’t hesitate, and Helcyon’s smile grew.

The inquisitor general’s darkness shrank back a step. Yes, the certainty of their oath united them.

“There will be hell to pay for this.” The elder’s threat was weakened by his retreat. He jerked a hand toward Michael but hesitated at a third voice pushing through a bubble in the wooden-paneled wall just three steps from Michael.

“Really, you throw a party and don’t invite me. I’m hurt.”

Fury clenched Helcyon’s gut as the inquisitor general whirled to meet the icy-cold stare of Vanagan Marcus.

“Son. Of. A. Bitch,” Jacob muttered.

Cassie’s palms heated where they pressed against Jacob’s shoulder and Helcyon’s back. The room writhed with coiled tension and danger. Beyond Michael, she had no idea who the inquisitor general was, nor the man who seemed able to walk through walls. Shifting against Helcyon, she peeked over the hard barricade of their bodies.

“Hello, pretty lady.” The lean, brooding figure cocked his head. His eyes were like twin silver orbs, completely steel colored with no visible pupil. She would never mistake him for human, not like Jacob and the Wizards who reported to him.

“Don’t talk to her, Marcus,” Jacob snapped. His muscles bunched under her hand, the heat of her body warming his skin through the sleeve of armor.

“Wizard Book, you wound me, and your manners leave something to be desired.” Laughter shivered in the strange man’s voice.

“Wizard Marcus, this is an internal matter.” The inquisitor general found his voice again. “You are relieved.”

“You’ll have to pardon me, Inquisitor General. You were about to run out of here, tail between your legs. Don’t let me interrupt that.” The man called Marcus slanted a wink at Cassie before looking at the older man.

Helcyon gave her a nudge, edging her back. They stood like twin statues. Power continued to run like a river, pouring through spill gates in both of them, colliding inside her belly, and swirling together as though caught in a whirlpool before racing back out to fill them again with the tempest.

The weakness sagging her muscles evaporated completely. The numb fear clutching her heart when she saw Michael relaxed its grip. She was safe.

Her men were here and she was safe. They’d never let anything happen to her.

“Wizard Marcus, this is a Council matter.” Something strident and dark shattered in the inquisitor general’s voice. The strain frayed the edges of his politeness, suggesting a vulnerability that he may not be aware of.

Cassie focused on the crumbling bluff. Shouldn’t a man with a Council have more backup than just Michael?

“He really should, pretty lady. May I call you Cassandra? Since apparently no one here wants to do the polite thing.”

“You may not.” Ice slicked over the top of Helcyon’s tone, dropping the temperature around them by several degrees.

Biting her lip, she bit back the question of how Marcus knew what she was thinking.

“So, not to disparage the joy of a Mexican standoff, but there are three of us and only two of you.” Michael’s nasty tone reminded Cassie that he was there. His insolent smile curdled her belly. The last time they’d been this close, he’d threatened to assault her, and murder gleamed in his eyes.

His tight grin pulled his lips over his teeth, his nostrils flared, and there was a weakness to his jaw that she’d never noticed before. He was really a petty man.

A petty bastard of a man who tried to seduce her, murdered her family, ambushed Billy, and killed all those people in the park.

Did he really?
Marcus’s voice pressed against the surface of her mind. Stiffness locked her muscles, and she flattened herself against Helcyon.

“Get out of her mind, Vanagan.” Ice cracked through Helcyon’s voice.

“Uncle, one would think you would be happier to see me. But the beautiful lady, Cassandra, has a most interesting accusation against Wizard Wentworth. If it’s any comfort to you, Cassandra, he is a petty man with a violent history and a desire for vengeance. He blames the Danae for the death of his father.”

Cassie’s eyes narrowed as she swung her gaze between Marcus and Michael. Michael jerked himself upright and actually took a step toward the other Wizard.

“What the hell is going on?” Jacob’s whisper was so low, she barely caught it.

“Factionalism,” Helcyon warned in an equally low voice.

“You stay the hell out of my head.” But Michael’s anger muted against the whine edging his tone.

“Or what?” came the laconic reply. “You’ll lodge a complaint with the lady’s father? He’s already not certain what to believe and scrambling to maintain control since his plan backfired. Of course, Gustav, you shouldn’t have put your faith in a yappy dog with his own agenda.”

The lady’s father?

“Father?” Jacob’s tone sharpened.

Cassie fisted against their shirts as her gaze swung toward the steel-haired Wizard elder. His square jaw flexed, his mouth compressing into a thin line. “Wizard Marcus, you go too far.”

But the elder refused to meet her gaze, his attention divided between Jacob, Helcyon, and Marcus.

“I haven’t gone nearly far enough, Gustav. You want to rule with an iron fist, stretching the laws to meet your needs and to cover your own indiscretions. Covering up, murder? Harboring a Wizard guilty of assault on humans when your own edicts demand you punish them? Consorting with the Fae? Fathering one?” The man shook his black-and-white-crowned head even as a mocking smile took up residence on his mouth. “I don’t think I’ve gone far enough. The Council is hereby on notice, the Brotherhood of the Rose Cross does not support the actions of the inquisitor general, and we will remove you by whatever means necessary.”

Cassie was never sure what actually happened next, but Michael’s “Mexican standoff” erupted as a viscous green smoke filled the room, blotting out the Wizards beyond the jeweled shield that flexed around them. White noise hummed through the air, a high-pitched keening that stabbed at her ears.

A figure surged through the smoke, and Michael swung an axe at them, a blow that Helcyon stepped into and parried. Jacob twisted sideways and slammed his booted foot square into Michael’s gut, and the man doubled over. Helcyon disarmed him of the axe and twirled it. Cassie’s eyes widened. He looked like some great mythical being, sword in one hand, axe in the other.

A clatter of thunder rolled through the office. The wind stirred Helcyon’s dark hair, pushing it away from his pointed ears. The wild kaleidoscope of color and light cast an unholy patina across him as his teeth bared in a fierce grin.

Beyond the smoke, a clatter of sound echoed through the offices. Booted feet rushed across the carpet. Voices yelled. Magical bolts split the air as did the acrid scent of ozone and burning carpet.

Michael glared up at her, malevolence and hatred spitting from his eyes. A flash of silver and he lunged toward her, seemingly taking advantage of Jacob and Helcyon’s shifts in stance.

Jacob’s gun barked once. The world freeze-framed, slowing as her heart beat once and then seemed to pause, as though holding its breath. Fire sparked the air around the muzzle of Jacob’s gun, the bullet traveling too swiftly to be perceived. It slammed into Michael’s chest.

The thunk of metal to flesh was so much quieter than she imagined. Michael’s mouth opened. The silver blade clenched in his hand continued toward her as a sword arced down. Helcyon’s blade bit into Michael’s arm, completing the arc, and the blade fell to the carpet, with his hand still clenched around it.

Light perforated Michael’s body, like a too-bright torch turned incandescent pressing through his skin. Rays of it burned through the flesh, turning it a mottled red and purple before it melted and began to slide.

Cassie stared in horror, barely aware of the shouts rebounding through the room. The slash of metal collided on metal, a descant to the rapid desiccation sucking the life away from Michael.

His dark eyes never left hers, his mouth twisting as words pushed past his teeth. A hot breath of wind blew through him, and his whisper scraped across her.

“Impror bash.” A reddish-tinged smoke lunged up from his disintegrating body and surged toward her. Jacob slammed her sideways, the bloody air coating him like some evil liquid. It clung to his skin, wrapped on his throat, and shoved at his mouth and nose as his chest rose and fell.

He dropped like a stone. He slammed into the carpet at her feet, and Cassie fell down to grab him, but the reddish ink slithering over his skin convulsed, scalding her fingertips. Helcyon muttered an oath above her, and then a hand jerked her collar.

“Hold him tight,” Helcyon ordered, and she ignored the pain, desperate to drag Jacob out from the reddish hell encasing him. The world tumbled sideways, and she landed in a heap on her bedroom floor.

Pain screamed through her fingers as she held fast to Jacob’s arm. Helcyon fell to his knees in front of them. “Pull it from him, Cassandra.”

“What?” She jerked her fingers back, fighting tears at the tendrils of smoke wisping into the air around them.

“You must pull it out of him. It’s a death curse, meant for you. He inhaled it. Touch your mouth to his, suck the curse out, but do not inhale it…give it to me.”