Jacob's Trial [Forbidden Legacy 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) (24 page)

She shook her head and squeezed him once before pulling away. She wanted to ask him about the night before, about the dinner, about what the inquisitor general said.

“It’s nothing.” Clearing her throat, she turned toward the kitchen but barely made it three steps before Jacob was at her elbow. A hushed whisper of movement signaled the Wizards leaving them to their privacy. Pausing at the counter, she saw they were all exiting, except Jude.

A frown wrinkled his easygoing features until a whistle and not-so-subtle head jerk from Paul pulled him away. When they were alone, Cassie patted Jacob’s chest and reached for a coffee cup, but he blocked her to take the cup from her hands.

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know. Actually. Just…something’s off.” Cassie wasn’t used to not having the words to describe her feelings. She gave the coffee mug a tug until he released it. Circling him, she picked up the fresh pot in a trembling hand.

Jacob covered her hand with his and took charge of filling her cup. “Cassie, we don’t have to go to this Council today. They can sit there and hand down all the edicts they want, it doesn’t matter anymore.”

“Yes it does. And you know it does.” She wrapped her hands around the mug, trying to still the quivering that rooted through her system.

“Talk to me, sweetheart. You’re scaring the hell out of me.” Jacob slid a finger under her chin and nudged her face up until her gaze met his. “Talk to me.”

“You’ll think it’s stupid.”
Hell, I think it’s stupid.

“No, I won’t. What’s wrong?”

Cassie sighed and leaned back against the counter, sipping her coffee for courage. “I thought he’d care more.”

Jacob frowned. “Helcyon adores you.”

“No, not Helcyon, although a good-bye would have been nice. I mean the inquisitor general.” The words locked in her throat. She couldn’t call him her father. She’d searched his face over and over the night before looking for some hint of familiarity, some link that suggested kinship. If she’d not heard Vanagan Marcus’s accusation, she wouldn’t have known the man for anything but the stranger that he was.

“Sweetheart…”

“See, you think it’s stupid.” Her mouth twisted. “He’s a total stranger, arrogant and more than a little vindictive and extremely manipulative. But apparently my mother liked him enough to sleep with him.”

“We don’t even know if what Marcus said was true.” Jacob gave voice to the doubts nibbling away at her uncertainty. “And even if it is true, it takes more than a fuck to make a man a father.”

Harsh.

But true.

“Still, shouldn’t he…I don’t know…acted like he cared, a little bit?” She flailed emotionally.

“A part of me wants to tell you that he acted like a bastard and offer to kick his ass for you. But realistically, he demonstrated a remarkable amount of interest in wanting to meet you face to face. If he didn’t give a damn, he wouldn’t have taken that time. Then there’s the other part of me.” He took the coffee cup out of her hands and set it on the counter. Catching her hands in his, he held her gaze.

“That other part says he did all of it to throw you off your game. A game you were demonstrating beautifully last night. You rebuffed every dig, every sally, and every attempt he made to throw you off balance.”

“Until now.” She hated the weak quiver in her voice.

“Until now.” Pressing his forehead to hers, he shrouded her in masculine heat and comfort. “Whether or not he contributed to your DNA, he’s a man in a position of power. A position you are a threat to. I’d like to think he meant to protect you when he ordered you away from the Council today.”

“But you don’t think so.” She agreed with the thought. Something that happened during that meal scared the hell out of the man. That was when he told her to not go. When he said it would be safer for her to stay away.

“Ignoring all of that, you don’t have to go. I would be happier if you stayed the hell away from them.”

“Don’t be angry. If I thought it would be better for everyone that I stay out of it, I would. But he’s after your head. They want to put
you
on trial. I
need
to be there.”

“I know.” He smiled, an almost wistful smile that lit up his often-dark and all-too-somber face. “I love you, Cassie Belle. Never doubt that.”

“I don’t. But I loved you first.”

“I love you most.”

She couldn’t help the laughter bubbling up. “And I love you best.”

“Yes, you do.” He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her, a slow, sweet kiss that embraced her soul. She could stay like this forever, but time marched forward, no matter what they wanted.

An hour later, Cassie leaned forward in her seat to stare at the wrought-iron gates. The blackened gates arched a dozen feet up, sharp stakes glistening in the late-morning sun. Domoir shifted restlessly beneath her. Even in his chosen SUV shape, the Glashtyn’s unease communicated effectively. She gripped the door handle, every nerve in her body screaming to run away.

“Breathe, Cassie.” Jacob’s hand covered hers.

“This has to be the creepiest place I’ve ever seen.” She could barely make out the white sandstone structure through the thick trees shrouding the long drive.

As they waited, the gates swung inward in silent invitation. She shared Domoir’s
hesitation and squeezed the door handle comfortingly. They followed the long drive through the trees to the great beast of a house that waited like a great demon. The sun reflecting off the tinted glass windows glared malevolently.

Pressure weighed down on her, squeezing all the air from her lungs. Time elongated around her, and the world shuttered dark as a thousand fingers seemed to shove into her thoughts. Cassie shuddered under the assault, but she reacted and shoved them away. Her gasp dragged much-needed air into her lungs. The world popped, and the unbearable force quivered once before snapping. The rush slid off her like hot rain, and she sagged back against the seat.

“Holy hell.” Paul whispered the words, but it was Jude who shoved himself between their seats.

“Are you all right?”

The concern warmed her, but she patted his hand and concentrated on breathing. Her heart hammered as if she’d just run up ten flights of stairs in heels. It burned to breathe. She clung to Jacob’s hand as both he and Domoir waited for her word to continue forward.

“Sit back, Jude.” Jacob spared the younger Wizard an unreadable look. Rebellion sizzled in the air, but the Wizard obeyed after a long moment.

The spots dancing in front of her eyes gradually cleared, and she focused on the white sandstone building.

“I’m okay,” she managed to push out on a thin whisper of air. It was like there wasn’t enough oxygen in the thin air, but they were in Southern California, not the Swiss Alps.

Domoir prowled through the gates, a smugness rolling through the vehicle to tickle her senses. He circled the private drive and paused at the main doors, where Miller, DuPois, and Dalton waited, silent sentries in unrelieved black. They’d traded their suits and ties for more durable battle gear, including Kevlar vests. Only Dalton’s read Smartass on the back of it in blocky white letters.

A burst of laughter lightened the dour sense the house exuded.

“Yes, he is.” Jacob gave her a wink and let himself out. Jude was already out of the Glashtyn and opening her door for her. Jacob circled the car and cuffed the younger Wizard lightly. “Ease up.”

The affection in Jude’s eyes turned to irritation, but he backed up a couple of steps. She had a momentary flutter of worry. But Jude reminded her too much of Billy, who had been equally solicitous in his concern.

It was Jacob who took her hand as she slid out. The reflected sunshine blazed hot off the building, a dry heat that burned away the chill. She adjusted her sunglasses, wincing at the brightness.

Once clear of the car, a thousand tiny voices began whispering excitedly in her ear. The tiniest of caresses fluttered against her cheek, danced on her eyelashes, and swirled around her. Cassie lifted her head to look at Jacob as the voices chattered away. There were so many. Lilting, musical voices cheered and sang to her of green pastures, dancing meadows, and rolling hills.

The air around her glistened, sparkling with life that eddied around her in pulses. She turned a wide-eyed gaze to Jacob. Despite his sunglasses, she could almost sense the narrowing of his eyes.

“Cassie, don’t.”

“They’re fairies, and they’re trapped here.” The voices rose in crescendo, spinning a tale of such utter sadness that tears clogged her throat.

“Yes, but we can’t do anything about that right now.” His soothing words failed to placate the fairies’ agitation or their demands.

“Oh. Here we go,” Dalton muttered.

But Cassie stopped listening to the men, her attention wholly focused on the glistening beings that appeared so sharp to her senses, but softly against the harsh landscape. They were slender and tiny with wings that varied in shape and size. The smallest looked like a child with cherubic cheeks and wide sapphire eyes. Taking a stance before the child was a teen-like being wearing scraps of cloth as a minidress. Thick black hair poofed around her face, and her eyes lensed a dozen different colors.

Like the Danae’s.

Droplets of energy dewed the air, and soon it buzzed with hundreds of them. No, thousands, and they kept coming. The Wizards fell back a step. Jacob’s fingers tightened on hers, but even he was pushed away by the press of so many little bodies in such a small space.

Their stories followed the same theme—capture, imprisonment, and enslavement. Pain echoed in their words, pain and the desperate longing to be free. Anger swelled in her breast. Cassie gathered them to her, and she studied them. The webbing was so fine, she barely noticed the strands at first. But the closer they came, the more she saw.

Fine, sticky strands clung to them, binding them. The mesh adhered to her eyelashes, irritated her nostrils, and itched at her skin. The pressure returned along with the inexorable need to do something about it. Slicing her free hand upward, the strands parted and severed.

“Hell,” Jacob swore, and a rush cascaded through her, parting the pressure suffocating her lungs, and she waved her hand through the air. The strands burned where they clung to her flesh, but every pass freed a few more. Seconds turned to minutes, and a swarm of fairies surged free with every sweep of her hand. When all that remained was the dark hair mop with her iridescent eyes, Cassie sighed.

The fairy bowed her head, her wings fluttering almost too fast to be perceived. A whisper of a kiss touched Cassie’s forehead, and then that fairy vanished skyward.

Leaning against Jacob, she swallowed. The only sound stirring the air was that of her ragged breathing.

Applause split the air, and she turned to find Vanagan Marcus leaning against the now-open double iron doors. Four Wizards formed a diagonal line behind him. Jacob’s Wizards shifted and bracketed them, like a cadre of Roman legionnaires.

“You are one wildly interesting woman, Lady Cassandra.” Vanagan’s lazy grin didn’t quite reach his silver eyes.

“Wizard Marcus.” Jacob’s voice dropped several degrees.

“Wizard Book.” Vanagan didn’t shift his stance. The weight of his stare pressed down on Cassie. “I was hoping you would come today, Lady Cassandra. Particularly after a little bird told me that the inquisitor general tried to warn you off.”

Lifting her brows, Cassie stood a little straighter. The absence of the fairies lightened the oppression in the air. “Mr. Marcus.”

“Mister.” He chuckled, but it wasn’t a mean sound. Instead, it was filled with genuine humor. “Please, call me Vanagan.”

“She doesn’t need to call you anything.” Jacob cut in front of her, blocking the Wizard’s line of sight. Cassie stared at his back with impatience.

Pushing herself back up to his side, she threaded her arm through his. “Thank you for the offer, Mr. Marcus, but I’m afraid in the interest of peace I will stick to a more formal address.”

“Later, perhaps.” How he made two words sound like a dirty invitation, she had no idea, but she just shook her head at him.

“Be nice and try not to start a fight before we’re even inside,” she admonished, and instead of being insulted Vanagan laughed. His gaze swept over them once, lingering a moment on Jude before returning to her.

Jacob tensed beside her.

“Keep her close, Wizard Book. Keep her very close.” He beckoned them all forward with a gesture. “The Council awaits, and they are getting prissier and more crotchety by the moment.”

She squeezed Jacob’s arm as they followed Vanagan into the house. Strange markings decorated the floor of the tiled entryway. Vanagan paused three steps in front of them.

“When the room begins to spin, Lady Cassandra, focus on holding onto Wizard Book please. I really don’t fancy picking my ass up off of some playground in Siberia.”

“When the room spins?”

But that was her only warning before the room spun, a curtain of blackness swarming out to snatch them from one place and slide them sideways somewhere else.

The Wizards sitting in the twelve stone chairs forming a semicircle in the room didn’t surprise Jacob. Nor was he shocked by the inquisitor general’s archaic black robe with the silver and gold piping. But the sheer number of Wizards present on the floor of the Council’s stone chamber gave him pause.