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Abigail gave her a strained little smile. “We’ve not spoken in years, but I will see that she gets the message,” she told her. “And that doesn’t count as the favor, just so we’re clear.”
Gwen returned the half smile. Abigail was a lot. More than a lot. But she didn’t seem all that bad. In fact, Gwen had a sneaking suspicion she and Miss Jones were far more alike than they appeared.
“Well, as much fun as this has been,” Levian grumbled, pressing herself between them. “We really should be going.” She gave Abigail air kisses goodbye.
“It was nice to see you again, dove,” the witch told her.
“You too,” Levian said.
“We’ll do it again soon.”
“Of course,” Levian told her, though even Gwen sensed the polite lie that it was.
Abigail grabbed Gwen by the shoulders and fluttered her cheeks with air kisses, which she was too startled to reciprocate. “I’m not sure what the Hound has done this time, but do give Sirus hell for me, won’t you?” A jolt of nerves shot through Gwen as she looked into the witch’s knowing brown eyes. Abigail winked and whispered to her, “Between you and me, the vampire is far overdue for someone to take him down a notch or two. Perhaps you are just the one to do it.”
“I’ll do my best,” Gwen replied awkwardly, stepping toward the mirror.
She wanted to do more than take Sirus down a notch—she wanted to cut him down at the freaking knees. The rage bubbled back up as Gwen stepped through the mirror, the chill of its magick skittering over her skin. When she came out the other side, she found Niah and Sirus glaring each other down in the center of the room. The tension was more than palpable; it was nearly suffocating.
“What the hell happened?” Barith was asking before Gwen even fully stepped into the library.
The mage followed directly after her. “What’s going on?” she demanded after taking in the scene.
“She is yours,” Sirus declared.
“What?” Levian snapped.
“Sirus is leaving,” Niah explained with a bitter edge to her voice and her eyes locked on her brother.
Gwen froze, all her blood pooling down into her feet.
“Come on, Sirus—” Barith started. The vampire cut him a glaring look, and the dragon immediately closed his mouth and turned back to prodding the fire.
“Did I miss something?” Levian asked, shaking her head in frustration and glancing over to Gwen. “Clearly you two got into some kind of spat, but?—”
Sirus gave her the same withering glare. “It’s done.” He looked back at Niah, and Gwen felt the sting of slight. As if he couldn’t bring himself to look at her. She swallowed, trying not to let her emotions spill out. Trying not to let tears threaten. He didn’t deserve her tears. No matter how mad she was.
“It is not done,” Levian hissed, stepping forward.
“My contract was bound by a blood debt,” Sirus told her. The room went still, except for Gwen’s furious, shallow breathing. “I was to keep her from the zephyrs. She’s safe here. My contract is complete. I leave her in your care.” There was no hesitation in his voice. Not even a fraction of emotion.
Gwen didn’t entirely understand what in the hell was going on, but she understood the gist. He was leaving. He was running away. Before she could get her revenge. Before she got the chance to tell him what she thought of him. Her skin burned hot with fury.
“A blood debt with who?” Barith pressed.
“Sirus, this is absurd,” Levian cut in with exasperation. “Whatever happened?—”
“If you want to go, then go!” Gwen snarled over the mage. Everyone turned to look at her, but her focus was solely on him.
Sirus finally dragged his eyes to her, but when he did she didn’t feel flushed and anxious. All she felt was pure venom. Gwen glared at him, her body humming. “I don’t want you here,” she told him, struggling to keep the cracking of raw emotion from her voice. “I don’t need you here. You can go bark up someone else’s tree, Hound.”
His jaw clenched, but Gwen got no satisfaction out of the reaction. “I wish I’d never met you. I wish I’d never followed you. I wish I’d never had that stupid—” dream. Her final word was lost in a gasp when something wrapped tightly around her waist and yanked. Gwen was struck by the eerie chill of the mirror as she was pulled back through.
She’d been standing in the study, and now, in a blink, she was looking at it through a pane of glass. Sirus slammed into the solid surface that was once the mirror, his hands pressed against the transparent pane that now rested in the frame between them.
A large hand clamped over Gwen’s mouth when she shrieked. “He cannot save you,” a manic, growling voice breathed in her ear. Raw fear spread to the very marrow in her bones. “You’re mine.”
Chapter Sixteen
