“What’s the curse?”
“A siphoning curse.”
“Which one? Canden, Ophish, Myon, Sen?”
How could there be more than one?
“I don’t know.”
“How many suspects do you have?”
“One.”
“You know who it is. Good. Do you have a way to find them?”
“I don’t know exactly who it is, but I will find them.”
His dark rolling laugh filled the room, giving rise to my irritation and earning him a scowl from both me and William.
“So, you plan to keep me locked here so I can’t collect the soul and magic from your friend? While giving the curser, whom you can’t identify, the opportunity to prolong the death and steal most of her magic? It is hard to remove all magic since it is bound to the soul. You know neither the siphoning curse used nor the person who cursed her. You’re not in a position to reverse the curse or force the curser to remove it. Foolish woman,” he spat. “You have no idea the mess you’re creating. She’ll die and they’ll have her magic. If I take her now, you deny them that.”
“She’s not dead so you can’t take her. There are rules,” I challenged. I didn’t know if there was a curse exception, but it wouldn’t be used on my friend. “I’m going to find the person. I just need some time.”
“You need more than just time,” he sneered, his voice laced with cruel amusement. His mocking laughter echoed in the room. My fists clenched at my sides as I fought the overwhelming urge to deliver a well-aimed crotch punch. My expression must have betrayed my thoughts because his laughter dwindled into a sharp smirk. With deliberate steps, he retreated, the derisive glint in his eyes mocking me.
“She has a Heartsoil charm. I have at least forty hours. You don’t know me but that’s more than enough time.” The unfounded confidence was more for my benefit than his. Having to go toe to toe with a witch, and possibly killing them, put me in a position of needing to psyche myself up.
His eyes slid to William, then returned to me. “Heartsoil charm. Impressive. Neither one of you has the kinborn magic needed for one. Hmm, there are more dimensions to my captor than just naive optimism.” He homed in on me.
He’s terrible, and I’m definitely going to throat punch him. My knee will deliver wrath to his grapes.Never thoughtassaulting death would be a life goal, but I had every intention of checking it off my list.
“Or is it the vampire with the impressive connections?” His head turned slightly to include William.
“Kara has exceptional contacts,” William supplied cryptically. Was he distancing himself from this mess, too? I didn’t blame him. “Perhaps you will take that into consideration as you interact with her.” William pulled back, exposing his fangs more than usual as he spoke.
“My captor has a zealous vampire guard. How cute,” Cirrian drawled with a deep melodic lilt that didn’t soften the insult. My unease prickled when William’s hands balled at his sides. There were a lot of things about the enclosure I didn’t know. Was it keyed to just a shadow god? Could William breach it? And if so, would William be trapped within or free to leave at will?
Not once did I consider that the shadow god would be so insufferable William would consider breaching the imprisonment to throttle him. I had no means to answer my piling questions because none of the kinborn witches had provided me with a way to contact them. It was hurtful when Jamillah suggested I contact her through William. I understood that it gave them plausible deniability, but seeing that Cirrian had identified their brand of magic, it was useless.
Cirrian could teach a masterclass on confidence. He had it in spades. I couldn’t understand how he maintained such a level of arrogance while being enclosed in a magical prison. That should have been enough to knock it down a couple of notches.
I needed to be the diplomat despite every fiber of my being wanting to be the Queen of Petty and taunt his predicament. “I don’t want to keep you locked in here anymore than you want to be. Can we make a deal? I’ll release you if you promise to give me time to undo the curse. If Amelia slips intointer, promise you won’t collect her until she is officially dead.”
“Time?”
I nodded.
I received another roil of deep laughter tinged with mockery and condescension.
“There are others,” he whispered. “If I don’t claim her, someone else will.”
Of course there were others; supernaturals died all over the world. I took an educated guess that it was based on territories. And we had the arrogant asshole with the mocking laugh as ours.
“Obviously. But if you are here, I doubt anyone else will come. There has to be some type of system in place that prevents more than one of you showing up at the same location.”
The waver in his smirk confirmed my assumption. He nodded slowly, taking in his surroundings. “Then, I guess I am your prisoner until then.”
“Coerced guest,” I corrected. He dismissed my correction with a glower. I took the ease in his expression as a sign of acceptance of his fate. I glanced at the clock. I had about thirty minutes before Amelia’s coven arrived.
