by T. S. Snow
Bastille turned and placed four mugs of coffee on the counter, just in time to hear the doorbell ring.
“About damn time!” Mrs. Alma exclaimed loudly, probably wanting whoever was at the door—Andres, I hoped—to hear her.
Bastille didn’t bother saying anything. He just shook his head and went to open the door.
A few seconds later, he came back, followed by Andres.
I didn’t think I’d ever seen Andres more disheveled or weary. He had dark bags under his eyes, probably having slept about as much as I had, and his clothes were so rumpled, I doubted he’d even bothered changing since the news had broken of his uncle’s escape.
He looked on edge, with none of the usual brightness or cheerfulness I’d come to expect from Andres.
Realization hit me square in the gut like a freight train.
Andres really did love Char. She wasn’t just a fling or something to entertain himself with, like every other woman he’d ever been with.
His feelings for Char were just as big and real as my own.
“Hey,” Andres said to me before going straight to Bastille’s grandmother, kneeling on the floor beside her, and grabbing her hand.
“Gran. Please, if you know something, anything, help us. Help us find our Char,” he begged.
Gran? There was no way Bastille and Andres were related. What the hell was going on?
Before I could think too hard about this, the elderly lady clasped Andres’ hands between hers. “Child, I may be lots of things, but I’d never pussyfoot and risk your and my grandson’s soulmate. Yesterday, I sent out every single spirit I could, and none of them have returned yet. Whether that means they found the girl or not, there’s only one way to find out.” Then she tilted her head to Bastille. “We’ll have to try the summoning again. It might be the only way.”
Bastille’s grim nod was all the answer she got. Meanwhile, I was just trying to piece together all the tidbits of information.
Bastille’s grandmother was a Soul Mage, so did that mean he was one too? I’d thought he was an Illusionist. The more time I spent with these people, the more confused I became and the less I seemed to know.
Objectively, I knew that people from different branches of magic could be together and have children. It was actually a little more common than most people would believe. Since one side always had stronger magic, the child would just inherit that branch of magic and it wouldn’t be spoken of again.
However, if both Bastille and his grandmother were Soul Mages, it didn’t explain Andres and Blair’s closeness with them.
“Is there anything I can do to help?” Andres offered, and both Bastille and his grandmother shook their heads.
“We have this handled, child. But we might need you on standby. Last time, I collapsed and Bastille was in bad shape. So this time, I asked you two to be here so you could make sure nothing terrible happened.”
Andres cast a nervous glance at me before his eyes turned to Bastille. “Uh…you gonna use your magic?”
Bastille gave him a sad smile. “I have to. Gran can’t do this on her own.”
“Uh…are you sure it’s going to be okay?” Andres shot me yet another look, and I started to have a bad, bad feeling about this whole thing.
Bastille’s grandmother was the one who spoke, turning her head to face me. I knew Bastille had mentioned she was blind, but I could’ve sworn she saw me. And not just the surface me, either. “It’ll be fine. He loves her too. He won’t do anything to jeopardize her happiness.”
I gulped at her words.
“Then shouldn’t we just tell him? Rip the band-aid off, instead of having him find out the hard way?” Andres asked, and a chill ran down my spine.
No.
There was only one reason they were having this conversation, and I didn’t want to hear it. I didn’t want to know.
I wasn’t sure what the fuck I might do if they said the words out loud.
Bastille sighed before steeling himself and looking me straight in the eye. “My name is Bastille Tumba.”
My stomach sank like a damn anchor had been thrown in it. My breathing stopped, and all the blood drained from my face.
No.
No way.
This could not be happening.
8
Andres
Under any other circumstances, the look of pure shock and fear on Blaze’s face would’ve been hilarious.
But as it happened, we were losing precious time with this whole thing, even if I’d been the one to suggest Bast reveal himself now. Truth was, I’d been afraid Blaze might go ballistic when Bast was too weak to defend himself.
Tension hung in the air, not only for the fact our Char had been kidnapped, but from the very real fear that Blaze might do something that Char would never forgive him for, assuming we managed to get her back, that was.
Seconds stretched into minutes, and still, nobody spoke. I could see that Gran was dying to intervene, to crack a joke or just admonish Blaze for his silence, but she knew the importance of this moment, probably better than either Bast or I did. After all, Alma Siela-Tumba had lived through it all before, and more. I also had no doubt that if push came to shove, she would probably find a way to make sure Blaze never spoke of what happened here again. Even though I was almost positive some of the spells that took away someone else’s free choice were completely taboo for Soul Mages, I knew Gran would do it to protect her family.
Nothing mattered to Gran more than family did. And because I was Blair’s half-brother, I ended up one of the few lucky people who fell under that category.
“Does Char know?” Blaze asked at last. I couldn’t have been the only one surprised that this was the first thing he said.
I’d expected…I don’t know. Rage, probably. Accusations. Fear, even. And while his blood had yet to return to his face and his eyes were more than a little panicky, Blaze’s first concern had been Char and whether or not she was being lied to.
Damn, I knew there was a reason I liked Blaze. He was totally worthy of being my brother-husband.
“She knows,” Bast said solemnly, his shoulders tense, as if bracing himself for whatever Blaze would do to him.
“She knows you’re…ah…” Blaze trailed off, as if unable to finish the sentence.
“A Necromancer. Yes. I’d never lie to her,” Bastille replied, and Blaze winced.
Whether from the dig or from the ease with which Bast said what was basically a dirty term in our society, I didn’t know.
“You won’t hurt her?” Blaze’s line of interrogation set my mind at ease. He really did love Char. Now if he could just get his head out of his ass and accept being a member of her harem, we could all be a happy family together.
I grinned. It would be kind of fun to watch him continue trying to resist her, only to cave in the end.
Bast put a hand over his heart. “Never. Char is everything to me. I waited my whole life for her, and I’d never do anything to jeopardize her happiness or her safety.”
At Blaze’s nod of acquiescence, Gran spoke, breaking their little brother-husband bonding moment.
“Well, as cute as this all is, now that this has all been cleared and you’ve all admitted to being in love with her, why don’t we fucking do something to save the girl?”
Trust Gran to call it like she saw it.
“Yes. Char is, after all, our priority. Are you ready, Gran?” Bast asked our grandmother, and she rolled her eyes at him.
“Been ready for the past hour, boy. Pfft. Men. They sure know how to waste time.”
I chose to ignore her comment because I knew how to be mature.
Just then, Blaze’s phone started ringing, and Gran sent him an accusing look, as if to say “must you really?”
Blaze gulped as he picked up. “What is it?”
His eyes widened, and then he started nodding and speaking with excitement. “Are you sure about it?”
There was some murmur on the other side of the line, and he
nodded again.
“Fucking finally. Yes. Yes, I’m with them, Blair.” A pause. “Fine. We’re on our way.”
He hung up the phone and then turned to us, a savage smile on his face.
“Change of plans. AMIA was finally able to locate Char and the missing heirs. She’s texting me the address. We’ll go in with her and a couple other agents, and AMIA will provide backup once we’ve stormed the place. The idea is that the alert won’t be issued inside AMIA until we’re already in there, so nobody will have time to tip them off.”
Fuck yeah. It was time to save our girl.
9
Charisma
A loud clang rang through the room and into my head, making everything inside of me shake from the noise.
I startled awake, not even having realized I’d fallen asleep, and looked around the dingy cell, trying to find what was causing such a racket.
Fuck, fuck, fuck! How long had I been asleep for? Was this it? Had they come for us?
My gaze zeroed in on the scrawny kid outside the bars of our cell. He looked to be around twelve, with clothes that were too big for him and green, spiky hair. He was holding a tray of food and staring warily at us.
Goddess, I was so fucking hungry, my stomach wasn’t even growling anymore. It was downright cramping in protest.
“Hey,” I said before one of the guys could say anything. Out of the three of us, I was probably the least intimidating option, especially considering I was the only one whose clothes were intact—dirty, but whole—and whose face wasn’t all bruised up.
Logan stirred beside me. Yes, because I’d fallen asleep with my freaking head on his shoulder, but that was something I wasn’t going to think too hard about.
The kid’s eyes widened in fear, and he took a step back from the cells. “Don’t move. Stay where you are. I…I…I brought you food. But you can’t move. Or else I… I’ll…I’ll go back upstairs and you won’t get anything.” His threat would probably have been more effective if he weren’t shaking the whole time.
My stomach growled in protest at the idea of going any longer without food. I honestly couldn’t remember the last meal I’d had. Probably…right before I’d left Bast’s? Maybe. Soon enough, I’d start to get hangry, and nobody wanted to see that.
A hangry Char was a mean Char.
I raised my hands above my head, showing the kid I was no threat to him and hoping to fuck the guys would follow my lead at least this once.
“It’s okay, we’re not going to move, at all,” I assured him. Truth was, while this was probably the best possible chance we were going to get to break out of here, I refused to harm the kid.
Which was probably why they’d sent a child instead of an adult. This “know thy enemy” thing was serious bullshit when used against me.
The kid slid open a small window on the bars near the floor, then slid the tray inside for us before closing the little window and stepping backwards. He stopped when his back hit the wall.
I thought that would be the end of it, but instead of running away, he stood there, staring at us, as if trying to decide what to do.
“Did you really free all the souls from the compound?” the kid asked at last, his eyes zeroing in on Theo.
Well, this was unexpected.
“Yes, I did,” Theo replied, not going into detail. I kind of wanted to kick him to get him talking. Just because I wasn’t willing to hurt the kid, didn’t mean I wasn’t willing to have an ally on the inside. Someone who could help us understand what was going on above us, and who could maybe give us information on who we were up against. Any piece of intel could go a long way in helping save our lives.
The kid nodded.
“What’s your name?” Theo asked, his tone gentle.
The kid didn’t answer at first, he just stared at Theo. Finally, in a voice no louder than a whisper, he replied, “Jack.”
“Jack? Like the pirate? That’s awesome!” Theo exclaimed, and I was reminded of why I’d fallen for him so long ago. “Listen, Jack, do you know why the souls were trapped? Or who did it?”
Jack nodded, biting his lip.
“Can you tell me, Jack?” Theo was slowly getting closer to the bars, still keeping enough of a distance that he wouldn’t startle the kid.
Jack shook his head, and Theo frowned.
“Will you get in trouble if you tell me?”
Before Theo had even finished asking the question, Jack was already nodding.
“Will you get in trouble for talking to us?” Logan asked from beside me, not making a move to stand up. He probably didn’t want the kid to feel threatened.
Jack’s focus switched from Theo to Logan, and he did the same slow examination of Logan that he’d done to Theo before answering.
“They…they don’t know that I came down here. I saw the tray on the guards’ table, and they were talking about how nobody wanted to deliver it down here. They said a lot of bad names. So when they weren’t paying attention, I came. I…I wanted to see if he had really freed the souls.” Jack tilted his head in Theo’s direction. “They were angry. Then they weren’t anymore.”
Oh shit. The kid was a Soul Mage too. That explained why Theo had captured his attention, and not us.
“You could feel their suffering too, couldn’t you, Jack?” Theo asked gently, and Jack nodded once again.
“Are there other places like the warehouse?” Logan’s question had Jack stopping for a second, as if thinking through the answer.
“Kinda. One more. But there are less souls there, and they’re less angry. It’s not as bad.”
Okay so, they didn’t have a shit ton of ghosts here. Wherever here was.
Noise upstairs had Jack jumping and looking around startled. His panicked eyes met mine for a second before he faced the place he’d come from.
“Go. You don’t want them to catch you here,” Theo urged, and Jack didn’t need telling twice.
“Thanks for the food!” I said, right before he vanished.
We all waited with bated breath to make sure Jack wasn’t going to be back, or that there would be no trouble—not that I had any idea what we’d do even if there were trouble—before we went to check out the food Jack had brought for us.
Goddess, I was so hungry, I could eat a whole cow.
And there, in front of me, there was some cheesy bread and ham.
Hell yeah! Thank you, Jack.
I sat on the floor in front of the tray, ready to dig in and feed the very hungry, very angry monster inside my stomach.
“Wait, Char, don’t!” Theo yelled, and like a possum who’d been denied his food, I turned to him and hissed.
The tray was suddenly taken out of my hands by Logan while I’d been distracted by Theo, and I hissed at him too.
They had a death wish.
“It’s my food! I need it!”
What in the name of fuckery did they think they were doing? They’d been stuck here longer than I was, how were they not hungry? Even if they were some alternate life form, they’d at least need sunlight for photosynthesis and there was barely any light here at all.
Pretty sure it was a deliberate way of driving the prisoners insane, and it would work fine, except I was far more driven to insanity by lack of food than by lack of sunlight. After all, as a night owl, I thrived in the darkness. Well, in front of a computer screen or a TV, but that was a teeny tiny, insignificant detail, not even worth mentioning, really.
“Char, we can’t eat the food. We don’t know if they put something in it, and it’s not worth the risk,” Theo said, trying to reason with me, but I was one stomach growl away from eating him instead. “Stop hissing at me, dammit! We’re trying to stay alive, remember?”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “Jack smuggled the food down to us. Do you really think a twelve-year-old is trying to drug us into compliance?”
“He was probably only ten, Charisma. And we don’t have a way of knowing if what he said was true or not. Are you really willing to risk you
r life over it?” Logan asked, still holding the tray above his head so I wouldn’t be able to reach it.
Bold of him to assume I wouldn’t kick him in the nuts in order to get my food.
“It’s not just that, Char. What if they put something in the food that will continue to snuff our magic? Trust me, we’re both starving too. Hell, my stomach has been hurting nonstop for hours and I’m pretty sure it’s trying to eat itself, but we can’t risk you or your magic. Right now, that’s the only tool we have for getting out of here. I swear, the minute we’re out, I’ll take you to an all-you-can-eat buffet and we can all stuff our faces. But until then, I need you to hang in there for a little bit longer, baby. You can even punch me if that’ll make you feel better,” Theo offered, opening his arms in a “come and hit me” gesture. As my stomach growled again, I almost took him up on it.
You’re being irrational, Char. This is the hangry talking.
Right. Yes. I knew that. But still.
“I’m going to need you guys to get rid of that food fast, then, because there’s no way I can just keep staring at it and not eat it. And I get to throat punch Cara when she gets down here. I mean, it’s the least I can do.”
Theo grinned at me like a proud boyfriend, and Logan finally lowered the tray.
“Burn it,” he commanded, and I looked at him, then at the food. Then at him again.
Something on his face told me he was struggling with the idea of wasting the food as much as I was.
Good. Misery loved company.
“You know, you could probably eat it. I mean, if your magic has already been suppressed, then it couldn’t really do any harm,” I offered. The idea of burning food made me twitchy. I hated waste, but I also understood where the guys were coming from, even if my stomach was revolting pretty badly.
Logan shook his head. “Can’t. Magic suppressants aren’t the only thing they might’ve put in the food. Besides, I think I’m starting to feel my magic again, even if it’s still too little to be of use for us.”
