by Helen Scott
“I see.” Hal knew he was being baited. “Did you want your entire lab to burn to the ground? Every last inch turned into ash?”
Confusion clouded his face, followed by rage.
“You’re just trying to bait me. I see through your tricks.”
“You were stumbling around a building that was burning to the ground when we took you. How would I bait you with something you already know?”
“I only started a small fire to keep that psycho fury contained. I don’t know what happened to make it all explode like that.”
“That would be your boss, the one who left you for dead.”
The guy didn’t look convinced.
“Look, at least tell me your name, and I’ll tell you what happened.”
“Leonard, but most people call me The Surgeon.”
Hal didn’t want to think about the implications of that name and what it might mean about Aster’s stay with that man.
“Your boss opened a portal that torched the back of the house and doubled the size of the fire you originally started. By the time we were about to leave, you showed up, and the house was pretty much gone. We left it burning. I would be surprised if anything in it survived. It felt as if it burned hotter than a natural fire, but that could just be because two idiots were playing with forces they didn’t understand.” Hal hadn’t realized he was so angry. It was only that his speech went from normal to shouting that gave it away.
“So my life’s work is gone. Just like that. Do you have any idea how many lives were sacrificed to get the data that was stored there?”
“You were murdering people! Not to mention being an idiot for not backing up your data in more than one place.”
Leonard looked frustrated. “It was backed up in more than one place, but they were all at The Farm.”
“Well, looks like you’ve lost everything, then, huh?” Hal sighed and sat on a chair one of his brothers had pulled over. “So, why can’t you do any of your fancy magic now?”
He didn’t bother to tell him that the cage made any magic impossible. Alec couldn’t jump out of it when they’d locked him in there, and they had designed it that way on purpose.
“I don’t want to.” Leonard acted like a petulant child.
“Bullshit. Do it and I’ll let you out.”
“If I do it, then take me back to Boston.”
“Deal.”
Leonard’s eyes widened in surprise, which made Hal laugh.
“Look, man, I’m not you. If I say I’ll do something, I’ll do it. If you prove me wrong right now and do magic, then I’ll take you to Kalamazoo, if you want.”
“Fine.”
Hal took a moment to tie his hair back. It had been getting longer and more unruly for a while now, but he kind of preferred it that way. In any case, he didn’t want it to catch on fire from whatever pathetic sparks this guy was going to dish out.
Leonard watched as he settled in the chair as though he was about to watch a show. It was only when he became still that the guy began to speak.
“Order of Talos, hear my plea. Grant me access to my power. Order of Talos, lend me your strength. Order of Talos, lend me your speed. Order of Talos, lend me your fire.”
He flared his hands, and one itty bitty little spark flew, but nothing else happened. Nothing that would make Hal believe the man could truly do magic.
“Jazz hands? Is that the correct term? That’s what you use to cast a fire spell?”
Leonard went back to pleading for power from the Order of Talos. All Hal wanted was to know who the hell they were and how he could get Robin out of there. Her name sounded like bells in his mind. He hadn’t really connected the two before Thad had shared that tidbit of information with him, but now it was as if a cello had joined a violin, and the beauty had just doubled.
“It’s not like you know magic. You’re just winged demons that your gods didn’t want to look at anymore.”
“Oh, really?”
Leonard chuckled. “If you knew magic, you would have made me talk a long time ago. It’s clear from the behavior exhibited by yourself and your brothers that magic is not a weapon you have the ability to wield.”
Hal summoned his siren voice, the voice that made anyone do anything he wanted, but could also potentially turn them into his mindless slaves, unable to breathe, eat, walk, sleep, unless he told them to. This was an acceptable risk. “Hop on one leg.” He only used just a touch of his power; it was more of a garnish than an actual command. Nevertheless, Leonard began hopping on one leg.
“What the—”
“We do have magic. We are just smart enough to know when to use it and when to hold back, unlike yourself and your boss.”
“Can I stop hopping yet?”
“I don’t know, can you?” Hal smirked. His brothers had come down here all sound and fury, with the exception of Thad, who hadn’t been down here at all since he got Cin back. All Leonard needed was someone to challenge his place in the world, or at least what he saw as his place.
A growl of frustration sounded from the man in the cage.
“Tell me to stop hopping!”
“No.”
Hal watched as his expression went from astonishment to indignation. He was willing to bet that Leonard hadn’t had many people tell him no in his lifetime. If he was honest with himself, it gave him some obscure joy to be one of those people. Leonard understood violence too well; he needed to be undermined, to have someone destroy that cocky attitude, and then he would talk.
Over fifteen minutes later, Leonard cracked and yelled, “Dammit, tell me to stop hopping!” His voice had changed to one of desperation.
“Will you talk to me? Tell me what I want to know?”
“Yes.”
“Swear on your own grave.” Hal didn’t trust anything that came out of this psychopath’s mouth.
“I swear.”
“Stop hopping.” The relaxation in Leonard’s body was immediate. Hal hoped his relief would serve in encouraging him to answer the questions honestly.
“Thank you,” he gasped out as a coughing fit shook his body. Leonard was severely out of shape. He wasn’t fat, but he had no cardiovascular strength.
“Now, tell me who your boss is.” Hal figured he would start with something easy that he already knew the answer to.
“Randall Fields.”
“Good. And what is the Order of Talos?”
“An ancient organization that believes everyone worthy should have access to magic, not just those chosen by the gods or fate. We seek power and the ability to guide the world on the correct path, to save the world from the corruption of magical beings.”
“And where is Mr. Fields based out of?”
“The Eclipse headquarters in Boston.”
“So that’s why you wanted to go back to Boston, huh?”
“Yes.”
“And how could I break into the Eclipse building?”
“You can’t. It’s barometrically locked. At least, any of the floors you would be interested in.”
“Can you draw me a floor plan?”
When Leonard nodded, a smile spread over Hal’s face.
Chapter 4
Robin shimmied into the dress. The dusty blue fabric slid down over her, and as she zipped it up, she knew it was going to be skintight. Not that this was a surprise. She felt like a desperate housewife, or was it a Stepford housewife? She could never remember. A vicious longing in her whipped around, demanding she put on some sweatpants and an oversized T-shirt. It had been her uniform once upon a time, when she worked from home as a cyber security engineer.
The deep V of the dress’s neckline meant that her breasts were front and center again, which she didn’t understand. It wasn’t like she was blessed in that area. Growing up, her mom had told her to stuff her bra if she wanted to get boys to notice her. Trouble was, Robin didn’t want boys to notice her, which her mom didn’t understand at all. She was quite happy to be quiet and pursue her passions, no man ne
cessary.
She shook herself out of her thoughts and straightened the dress in the mirror. Even she had to admit that the blue brought out her eyes. She tried to examine the dress without prejudice. The neckline was high, aside from the deep V in the center, and the cap sleeves were actually quite nice. The piping that ran down her torso flared at her hips, making them look bigger than they were. There were pockets, exactly as Randall had said. They were teeny tiny, though, and couldn’t really fit anything. Robin was tempted to bring the flash drive, just in case there was something for her to tap into, but she also knew it could be a big risk in this situation.
When she slipped it into one of the pockets, the outline was clearly visible, making it impossible to sneak anything anywhere in that dress. She sighed and slipped into her heels. She would have to stash the little piece of plastic that was her life boat before she saw her boss. A last once-over confirmed that the flash drive wasn’t visible before she headed up to Randall’s office, with a pit stop at her own.
She knew the rumors about her were getting worse. Whenever she passed someone in the hall, they openly sneered at her now. It took all her self-control not to beg them to take her place, but she knew that would only get them both in trouble and nothing would change. At least, not for her. Plus, depending on Randall’s mood, he could be quite vindictive.
She’d heard the whispers about the assistant before her—the woman had tried to make a run for it. She didn’t make it. Not only that but she was never seen again, and that made Robin hold her tongue.
Randall would see anything she did to get away from him as a betrayal; he’d said as much when they’d first got back from The Farm. If he was angry at her and there was someone else involved, he was more likely to take his anger out on that person than on her. She was lucky that way. Yeah, right.
By the time she walked into Randall’s office, he was standing at his desk, waiting for her. She had never been more thankful that he couldn’t see her desk from his.
“Right on time, just the way I like it.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Now, rules. Going forward, only speak when you are directly spoken to. No ‘yes, sir’ or ‘yes, ma’am’ unless someone is specifically requesting an answer. Don’t flash your tits at anyone, except me, of course.” He leered at her when he spoke. If Robin didn’t know better, she would say he was tipsy. “And try not to be too surprised by anything. Although, I should warn you, what you are about to see will blow your mind.”
“Yes, sir.”
Randall’s gaze drifted lazily down her body. “By the old ones, I can’t wait for you to ask me to bed.”
He didn’t seem to realize that he’d spoken aloud, so Robin thought it was probably in her best interests to ignore it.
“Ready?” He smiled, and for the first time, she could see how women found him attractive. When he was playful and slightly tipsy like this, there was something endearing about him. Not that she still wouldn’t bolt if given half a chance, but at least she could see where they were coming from a little more now.
His hand was outstretched, waiting for hers, and as she took it, he pulled her much closer than she needed to be. One arm was a steel bar around her back, pressing her against him, and the other was making strange gestures at the wall. She could smell the liquor coming off him in waves.
Fire blazed in front of her eyes for a few seconds before turning into the sweeping black hole she had seen at The Farm. Out of instinct, she started to push away from him. More than anything, she didn’t want to go through that thing. The memory of what it felt like before was too fresh in her mind.
“Stop struggling.” The liquor on his breath surrounded her.
“I don’t want to go through there.”
“You don’t have a choice.”
She pulled and pushed against him, until he gave up and swung her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.
“Here we go!” he said as he smacked her ass.
The blackness crushed in on her, making it impossible to draw breath. She felt like she was being peeled, as though someone had put sandpaper to her skin. Her blood boiled and her body melted, and just when she was sure death was imminent, it all stopped.
“Here we are.”
As Randall set her down, she had to turn away to retch.
“Well, that’s just lovely.” He almost hiccupped. “I used to be like that. Now, I just have a few glasses of gin and I’m fine.”
She took a step forward and ended up almost face-planting on the floor, not that it could even be called a floor, really. A floor implied a certain level of flatness, at least to Robin, and this was not flat. She felt like she was walking on the rubble from an explosion. They were underground—that much was obvious—but how far underground, she had no idea. She couldn’t see any other way into the tunnel they were standing in, except for the portal, which had conveniently just closed. An eerie light spread through the passageway. It was just enough for them to see with no indication of where it came from. It was almost as if the rocks themselves were emanating light.
“Come on. This way. If you follow my footsteps, those are the best places to walk.”
“Yes, sir,” she said, before mumbling to herself, “Not wearing heels would have made this easier.”
“For you, yes. However, then your ass wouldn’t look the way it does, and with that dress, it needs a little perking up. Now, remember the rules.”
His comment stung. And she hated that she cared.
Randall seemed to be sobering up, which was good, because they were approaching a massive doorway. Two giant statues flanked the keyhole arch. On the left was a virile young man, clearly just over the cusp of adulthood, and on the right was an old man hunched over his cane. As Robin drew closer, she realized just how big the statues were. They towered over her, her head just coming to the knees of each sculpture. The detail in the stonework was phenomenal. Passing under the archway, Robin realized it was more of a tunnel. At the end was an intricately carved door, which stood at least four times as tall as she was. As they approached, the doors swung open.
An ambient light filled the revealed area, not that Robin could see the source of it, because the ceiling was so high. She couldn’t even see the edges of the room. There seemed to be a mist or haze covering everything more than twenty feet away from them. As they walked forward, voices drifted toward her, all kinds of accents, men and women, old and young. A set of stairs became visible in front of them where the room narrowed into a tunnel. They climbed to a central platform, which opened up into an area that was more like a cavern than a room. The walls were lined with figures that had been carved out of the stone itself. Each figure had a solemn expression, and its eyes were directed at the center of the platform, which was, of course, right where Randall stopped.
Not only did Robin feel completely out of place but now she felt like the statues were judging her, as well. She tried to focus on the people in front of her, rather than the giant stone heads a couple hundred feet above her.
It was as if she had just crashed a swanky cocktail party and everyone knew she wasn’t supposed to be there. The whispers. The looks. It was all making her skin crawl.
Randall’s possessive hand on the small of her back didn’t help, either. All she wanted to do was shake it off and move away from him, but in this crowd, who knew what that would mean.
“Randall, darling, introduce us to your new protégé,” a slender woman called from the side. There wasn’t a hair out of place. She was perfectly coiffed and practically reeked of money. Robin had to clench her hands together to prevent one from going up to her frizzy red locks.
“Brothers and Sisters, this is Robin Murphy. I bring her before you today to offer my sponsorship to bring her into our family. She has many distinct talents that will greatly benefit our organization and our goals.”
“I can see a couple talents from here!” a low voice called out, but Robin couldn’t see who had spoken.
“How
long has he been boinking you, darlin’?” another voice joined in.
Heat rose on Robin’s face. They thought she was his toy. The latest in a long line of playthings.
“Brothers, you know I would not bring sullied goods before you. Robin has been in my care since she was a young girl. I have nurtured and protected her from a family who would have brought her nothing but pain. She has blossomed under my care, and I feel that her talents can now be put to use by the group.”
She felt completely humiliated. Shame stained her cheeks red even though she had nothing to be ashamed of. Besides, Randall didn’t know what he was talking about. She may have been young when her father had made the deal with him, but she was old enough to have lost her virginity. Ken Brown, at a friend’s birthday party. It hadn’t been anything romantic, more just the both of them wanting to get it over with. Either way, her maidenhead was long gone.
“Robin, has Brother Randall inappropriately laid a finger on you?”
She shook her head no.
“I bet you want him to, though, don’t you?” a woman’s voice called, clearly wishing she was in Robin’s shoes.
She vehemently shook her head no again. Why were they talking to her as if she was a child? Did they think just because she’d been under his employ for a few years she was mentally stunted?
“What are the skills you possess, my dear?” An older woman came forward and stood in front of Robin, holding glasses up to her face as if she was attending the opera, as she looked Robin up and down. Her wispy gray hair was done up in a chignon, and her long sapphire dress drew out the color of her eyes, just as her own dress did.
“I’m good with computers, ma’am.”
“Is that all? Turn for me.”
Robin glanced at Randall, who shook his head ever so slightly, probably only noticeable to her since she was turning toward him, putting herself on display for this strange old lady. Her banshee side was to remain his secret weapon.
“Good strong genes there. She’d make a good wife.”
“Sister Harriet, she is not here to be matched with someone. She’s here merely to gain approval to begin the joining process.” Randall sighed.
