Dark Power Unleashed (The Children Of The Gods Paranormal Romance Book 51)

by I. T. Lucas

  Cassandra sagged against his side, the relief further weakening her knees. He didn’t suspect her. And if he did, he was covering up for her.

  One of the men chuckled. “Perhaps the alcohol content was enough to erode the structural integrity of the glass.”

  Was that even a thing? Did glass even have structural integrity? Wasn’t that a construction term?

  A third guy offered another explanation. “Did anyone smoke near the bowl? Some idiot might have dropped a match into it.”

  “Given the alcohol content, the liquid might have caught fire, but there was none,” Onegus said. “The thing would have burned, but I doubt it would have exploded. The bowl just cracked and then broke apart. Maybe it was the music. Sometimes a certain frequency can resonate with the glass. It’s no big deal except for the cleanup.”

  “And the lost booze,” someone bemoaned. “A lot of good whiskey went into that punch.”

  Cassandra wasn’t an engineer, but even she knew that the bowl was too big and its glass too thick for the sound coming from the ballroom to shatter it. A noise cannon directed straight at it and tuned to its precise resonance frequency would have been needed.

  Perhaps Onegus didn’t know that, or maybe he was covering for her. Thankfully, none of the guys on his team knew that either.

  62

  Onegus

  Onegus could feel Cassandra’s body trembling with relief. If not for his arm around her, her legs would have given way.

  “Liam, can you bring a chair out for Cassandra? She had quite a scare.”

  “I’m on it, boss.”

  “Roy. Get a cleanup crew here to clear the mess. Gerard has several people in charge of cleaning in the kitchen.”

  “Yes, boss.”

  Normally, he would have asked one of the Odus, but they were nowhere to be seen. He knew that Amanda wouldn’t have excluded them from the celebrations, and she must have reserved seats for them. The Odus were treated as members of the family, and they were also an added level of security.

  Perhaps they were helping Gerard and his crew in the kitchen. After all, the Odus were programmed to be helpful. Sitting around as guests would have probably fried their cybertronic brains.

  Besides, Cassandra had just blown up the punch bowl. Until she learned to control her power, he didn’t want the Odus anywhere near her. If anything happened to even one of them, Annani would be devastated.

  Or worse, she might lose it and retaliate against Cassandra.

  For now, he’d managed to cover for her, but he’d already told enough people about the power she possessed. It was only a question of time before someone figured out that the punch bowl hadn’t exploded on its own.

  Bridget came out of the ballroom and surveyed the damage. Finding the server, she walked up to him. “Are you hurt?

  He shook his head. “Just wet and sticky. I was lucky that none of the glass pieces got me.”

  “Indeed.” She walked over to Cassandra. “How about you? Are you okay?”

  “She’s just rattled,” Onegus said.

  Bridget threw him one of her withering looks. “I didn’t ask you, now did I?”

  “I’m not hurt.” Cassandra rubbed at the punch stains on her chest. “This is from before. Someone bumped into me, and I got splashed.”

  Bridget nodded. “Then if I’m not needed here, I’m going back inside.”

  “Thank you for checking on us.” Cassandra lowered herself to the chair Liam had brought for her.

  “You’re welcome.” Bridget waved before going through the doors into the banquet hall.

  “In case you were wondering, that was our family’s doctor.”

  “I figured. She sounded like one.” Cassandra pushed to her feet. “If you don’t mind, I could really use the bathroom.”

  “Of course.” He took her hand and led her out into the hallway.

  “Do you still want me to use the one in your office?” She didn’t sound like it was something she wanted to do.

  “It’s up to you.” He leaned closer to her ear. “I’m sure my mother is done powdering her nose.”

  “I didn’t see her coming back, but then I was a little distracted.” Cassandra smiled nervously. “I just want to wash this stickiness off me, have a cup of coffee to clear my head, and then go dancing.”

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  As they headed in the bathroom's direction, his mother walked toward them together with Sylvia.

  “We heard that there was an incident with the punch bowl,” Sylvia said. “What happened?”

  “It must have been defective,” Onegus said. “The bowl cracked and then broke apart.”

  “Did anyone get hurt?” his mother asked.

  Cassandra shook her head. “Fortunately, no one was standing near it when it cracked, and the glass was too thick and heavy to go flying.”

  Sylvia looked at her with knowing eyes. “You need to learn to control it. This time you were lucky, and no one got hurt. Next time you might not be.”

  Cassandra tensed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She pulled her hand out of Onegus’s and walked into the restroom.

  “Someone is in denial,” Sylvia said.

  “Not really.” Onegus rubbed a hand over his jaw. “She's just pretending that it had nothing to do with her, and that’s what she should be doing. Imagine what would have happened to her if someone other than us figured out what she could do.”

  His mother grimaced. “Don’t remind me. I lived during those horrible times.” She put a hand on his arm. “You should tell her who and what you are. It’s not right to bring her into our midst and keep her ignorant. You need to ask Kalugal to compel her silence.”

  “First, I want to tell Cassandra what’s at stake and offer her options. Compulsion is just one of the ways to protect our secrets, and it’s not my favorite.”

  63

  Cassandra

  Cassandra leaned closer to the mirror and examined the neckline of her dress. Miraculously, the stain hadn’t penetrated the fabric, and she was able to rub it off with one of the cloth towels she’d wetted. The spot was wet, but because the fabric was black, it was barely visible.

  Onegus’s haughty mother had been right about that.

  Wetting another one of the small rolled-up towels, Cassandra wiped the sticky residue off her skin, then took a dry one to finish the job. Everything was back to normal.

  Right.

  How had Sylvia guessed that she’d had something to do with the punch bowl incident? She hadn’t been there when it happened. If Onegus hadn’t realized the connection, how could she?

  Maybe the girl was a psychic?

  Whatever. Sylvia, Martha, and whoever else wanted to pin it on Cassandra had no proof, and as long as she kept pretending innocence, she was safe. Circumstantial evidence might make people suspicious, but it was not enough to incriminate her.

  Squaring her shoulders, she took one last glance at her reflection. Her hair was fine, her newly reapplied lipstick didn’t have any smudges, and her eyeliner was still intact.

  Tucking her evening purse under her arm, Cassandra headed out of the ladies’ room.

  Thankfully Martha and Sylvia were gone, and Onegus was waiting for her, leaning against the wall and looking sexily debonair.

  “Was the operation successful?” He walked up to her.

  She waved a hand over her dress. “Good as new.”

  “I’m glad.” He took her hand. “Are you up for dancing?”

  “Coffee first. And maybe another piece of cake.” She was no longer tipsy, but she felt depleted and tired. A boost of caffeine and sugar was in order.

  “Sounds good to me.” He led her back to the banquet hall.

  Several couples were dancing, but most of the guests were sitting around the tables and chatting over coffees, desserts, and more drinks.

  Again, she was struck by how uniformly aged everyone looked.

  “Does your family own a fountain of youth?”
r />   He chuckled. “In a way.”

  “In what way? An in-house plastic surgeon? Or just good genes?”

  “The second one.” He led her to their table. “I’m actually over five hundred years old, but I aged extremely well.” He pulled out a chair for her.

  “Ha-ha. Very funny.” Cassandra looked at Roni, who was smirking and trying to hide it. “Let me guess, you are one hundred years old and only look nineteen.”

  She could feel Sylvia’s eyes on her, assessing, speculating, but she didn’t turn to look at the girl.

  “No, I’m actually twenty,” Roni said. “Good guess, though.”

  “What about the priestess?” Cassandra pointed with her chin toward the family table. “She looks like an angel, so I guess she could be as old as time and only appears to be eighteen.”

  Amanda and the red-haired priestess were chatting animatedly, and other than being too beautiful to be real, she seemed almost normal now that the spotlight wasn’t directed at her.

  “Annani is not a priestess,” Onegus said. “She is the head of our clan.”

  The girl was too young to be the head of anything other than a sorority.

  “Did the previous head of your clan pass away, and she inherited the position?”

  Sylvia pushed to her feet and tapped Roni’s shoulder. “Come dance with me.”

  He looked as if he was about to protest, but the intense look she gave him didn’t leave room for argument.

  As Roni rose to his feet, the rest of their companions followed suit, including Connor who didn’t have a date.

  “I’m going to mingle.” He winked before beating feet away from their table.

  “Did I say something to chase them off?” she asked.

  “They wanted to give us privacy.”

  “For what?”

  Was it about her questions regarding the mysterious head of their clan? What was the story with her?

  Was the woman a vampire?

  The glowing pale skin, the flaming red hair…

  Right. This wasn’t a movie, and vampires didn’t exist.

  Onegus let out a long breath. “To talk. But this is neither the time nor the place for that. Can you stay and spend the night with me?”

  She arched a brow. “On the cot in your office in the basement? I’d rather get a hotel room if you don’t mind.”

  It dawned on her then, that when Onegus had offered to take her to his office to clean up in his private bathroom, he hadn’t mentioned leaving the building.

  She frowned. “Is your office right here? In this building?”

  He chuckled. “It is, but we don’t have to spend the night there. I can secure a better place with a proper bed.”

  That sounded like an invitation to share that bed with him, which was way better than the ominous, we need to talk.

  “Do you want to go now?” she asked.

  “I do, but I can’t. I have to stay until all the guests leave. I have to make sure that everyone gets safely to where they are going to spend the night, and that could take hours.” He lifted her hand and kissed her fingers. “Can you last that long? Or are you tired and want to go home? If you are, I can ask Connor to take you.”

  She was drained. The release had left her devoid of energy. But at least she wasn’t drunk anymore, and she didn’t want to go before hearing what he had to say.

  “I’m fine.” Cassandra rose to her feet and offered him a hand up. “Let’s dance.”

  64

  Onegus

  “I think I’m done,” Cassandra admitted defeat after almost two hours of nonstop dancing. “My feet are killing me. I have to sit down.”

  It was a wonder she was even standing.

  Given the tremendous energy she’d expelled, she’d lasted much longer than he’d expected. Someone less stubborn would have given up a long time ago, but Cassandra didn’t know that she’d been competing against immortals, who were twice or thrice as resilient. Her competitive nature had driven her to push herself to the limit.

  “No problem.” Onegus wrapped his arm around her waist and led her back to their table.

  The only one there was Connor. Tessa and Jackson were still dancing, Sharon and Robert had gone home, and so had Roni and Sylvia. Ruth and Nick were sitting at another table, talking with Vlad and Wendy and their extended family, which now included Wendy’s mother.

  “As much as I love these Louboutins, I can’t stand them for another moment.” Cassandra kicked the shoes off and let out a relieved breath.

  “Do you want me to rub your feet?” Connor offered.

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “Not a good idea. But I will be forever grateful if you get me a cup of coffee.”

  “I’m on it.”

  Onegus wondered whether she didn’t want Connor to rub her feet because that was too intimate for her, or because she thought that he would get jealous.

  The truth was that he didn’t want any man’s hands on her, not even Connor’s.

  As soon as his roommate left, Cassandra shifted the chair to the side, lifted her feet, and put them on the next chair over. “If I’m breaking any British etiquette rules, I don’t care.” She wiggled her dainty toes.

  His mother might think so, but he didn’t.

  “You can do as you please.” Onegus pulled out the next chair over, sat down, and took one of her feet in his hands. “I don’t have a lot of time, but I can squeeze in a quick foot massage.”

  Her eyes rolling back in pleasure, she sighed. “I might never let you go. A man who offers foot massages is a keeper.”

  That was a loaded comment.

  Connor had made the same offer a moment ago, and she’d refused.

  As Onegus’s hands on Cassandra’s feet stilled for a brief moment, she opened her eyes. “Did I scare you? Don’t worry. I was just teasing.”

  He shook his head and resumed massaging her toes. “You’ve got it all wrong. Your comment made me wistful, not fearful. I like the idea of you holding onto me.”

  Her eyes softened. “Don’t say things you don’t mean.”

  He put her foot down and picked up the other one. “I never say things that I don’t mean.”

  Watching him kneading her foot with a pensive expression on her face, Cassandra didn’t retort with a snarky comment as he’d expected.

  Perhaps she was too tired to come up with one.

  “The guests are starting to leave. I need to go.” He put the foot down. “Are you going to be okay?”

  “Of course she is.” Connor put a steaming cup of coffee in front of Cassandra. “I’m here to keep her company.” He looked at her feet that were still nestled in Onegus’s lap. “I see how it is. I’m not good enough for your toes.” He cast her a mock reproachful look. “But he is?”

  Lifting Cassandra’s feet off his lap, Onegus got up and then laid them down gently on the chair. “I hope it’s not going to take long.”

  “Off with you.” Connor waved at him before leaning closer to Cassandra. “Let’s gossip.”

  Walking toward the exit, Onegus scanned the room to estimate how many guests were still there. About half were gone, and only a few were lingering in the antechamber. The rest were either dancing or sitting at the tables. It was nearly three o’clock in the morning, and it wouldn’t be long before the rest left. Especially since David and Sari had already retired, as had the rest of the royal family as he liked to refer to them.

  Annani usually didn’t stay long, probably because she knew that her presence was intimidating to many of the clan members, and that they would have more fun and be less inhibited with her gone. Amanda, who usually stayed until the very end, was pregnant and tired easily, and the same was even truer for Syssi. She could barely walk.

  He found Yamanu in the hallway, leaning against the wall next to the ladies’ room. “Just the guy I was looking for. Are you waiting for Mey?”

  He nodded. “I’m not going to make her stay until the end. She’s going home with Jin and Arwel.”


  “Good thinking. I’m going to check on Gerard’s people and see when they are ready to leave.”

  “I spoke with him already. The kitchen is done, but they still need to collect all the serveware from the ballroom. He thinks it will take them another hour to clean, and then they need to load everything including themselves into the vans, which probably will take another half an hour.”

  After the staff left the building, Gerard was going to have them stop up front for an inspection, and that was when Yamanu would manipulate their memories, changing the event’s location and blurring the faces they had seen.

  Onegus groaned. “It seems like you and I are not leaving here before four-thirty in the morning.”

  There was no way Cassandra would last that long.

  He could have Connor take her home, but that meant that he would have to thrall her first.

  Since Kalugal and Jacki had left already, asking him to compel Cassandra’s silence wasn’t an option. Eleanor could do that as well, but it meant taking Cassandra to the dungeon.

  That was actually not a bad idea. The converted cells were as nice as any hotel room, and Cassandra wouldn’t mind spending the night in one. She didn’t need to know that they used to be prison cells. He could tell her that they were underground apartments or safe rooms.

  She was probably too tired for having the talk tonight, but they could sleep in each other’s arms and save it for the morning.

  Following Ingrid’s advice, he would tell Cassandra the truth and ask for her consent to induction in writing. After that was done, he would give her the option of either a thrall to forget what he’d revealed or compulsion that would force her to keep it a secret.

  65

  Cassandra

  Sometime during Connor’s endless prattle, Cassandra must have dozed off.

  The next time she opened her eyes, she was sprawled over a row of chairs, and everyone except her and Connor was gone.