Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 132138 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 661(@200wpm)___ 529(@250wpm)___ 440(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132138 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 661(@200wpm)___ 529(@250wpm)___ 440(@300wpm)
“She’s very good with white magic,” Roan says. “Why don’t you bring the child over here to the bed?”
Roan tosses the cube to the ground and in an instant it is a full-size air bed. Nathan gently lays his son on the top. The boy looks to be more of a young man, roughly fifteen or sixteen. He’s malnourished, his body a mass of gangly arms and legs.
Nate puts a hand on his son’s head, smoothing his hair back. “He was taken when we brought our wine to the marketplace. We’re isolated. We hadn’t heard that Torin was laying claim to all bondmates. Honestly, we didn’t know Charlie could bond.”
“The mayor told us he could.” Zane stands over them both, his eyes worried.
Nathan’s lips turn up in a smile. “The mayor is insane, and he told us Charlie could bond because of that device Caleb made for him to track Planeswalker demons. Please excuse us. Mayor Mel is a brilliant warrior, but he’s preoccupied with what he calls the coming Demon Invasion. Anyway. Zane and I were haggling and then Charlie was gone. He’s been missing for two years. If Torin is selling bondmates to vampires, why wouldn’t he feed our son? Wouldn’t a vampire want a healthy mate?”
Roan stares down at the boy, his mouth a harsh line. “Your son is certainly a consort, or what you would call a bondmate. I see his glow as clearly as the female consorts here.”
“And any vampire would be horrified at his condition,” Dellacourt assures us.
I feel a building rage. Torin didn’t mean to sell this boy. No vampire would accept that his consort was treated in such a way. “I’m not a full vampire, but I know for a fact that the one way to have gotten the Council to enter this war was for word to leak that consorts were being abused. The vampires would have invaded.”
Gillian kneels by the bed, laying her hands on the young man. She closes her eyes and seems to be calling on that part of herself that works magic. “He’s been fed upon, but not in any way I understand.”
My stomach turns. I remember the vision the hag sent me. “The hag. She’s been eating at his soul.”
Nate makes a low moan of pain and clutches his son’s hand. Zane turns a stark white.
“What does it mean?” Zane asks.
Thank gods my smarter half likes to study. Shim folds his arms across his chest. “It’s not as bad as it sounds. Hags, even some non-corporeal dead, can feast on the living. What I believe she’s trying to do is absorb his psychic power.”
“She wants to be able to bond?” Bronwyn asks. “Why?”
Shim shrugs. “I don’t know, love, but it would explain the ritual of soul eating. It would take a long time. She would have to drain him over a couple of days or weeks. She would take his blood, withhold food and water. She would torture him. Anything to break down his resistance. The body needs a soul. It would rather die than go without one, so she has to be careful. If she simply killed him, the soul would go wherever souls go.”
“Through the door,” Duffy says. I feel my heart twist as my brother, my little champion, speaks. His small hands clench together. “There’s a door and light. It calls to a soul, tells you to go through, that more adventures are waiting, just waiting past that door.” He shakes his head and a deep breath fills his lungs. “Or that’s what I’ve heard.”
Shim looks at Duffy, suspicion clear in his eyes, but he continues anyway. “She has to bring him to the brink of death, bit by bit so the soul hovers, unsure whether it’s time to go or not. And she catches it and consumes it in a ritual. I’ve only read about it, of course, but technically it should give the hag any powers the soul contained. Consorts and bondmates have measurable psychic energy. I’m sure that makes her spells more powerful.”
“She’s making up for the lack of three.” Charlie’s eyes open, his voice strained.
“Don’t, son,” Zane says. “Rest. We’ll have you home to your mother soon.”
Charlie’s head shakes. “Already feel a little stronger. How did you get into the dungeon?”
“Believe it or not, a sluagh guided us. He knew how to sneak in.” Nate grips his son’s hand. “I know this sounds crazy, but he looked just like the old king.”
Bronwyn sniffles. “My father. I was told he fought to stay even after he died. He’s still fighting for his kingdom.”
A kernel of guilt opens inside me. Duffy’s words echo in my ears, but I’m not going to let them sway me. Bronwyn needs to be safe. Duffy needs to be safe. Safety is better than any cause.
Charlie’s head turns at the sound of Bronwyn’s voice. “It’s you.”