Seacursed: The Mage Circle Trilogy: 1

by L. A. McGinnis

  “You are a wicked thing, aren’t you?”

  “Not really, just goal-oriented. And tonight, we have to make this look real. My main concern is your scent. And your DNA.” Cocking her head, she circled him, leaving the back of Lucas’s neck tingling. So this is what Kieran felt before. Strange. “The wards on Obsidian Hall are twofold. One, it’s warded against the use of magic, anyone trying to cast spells, that sort of thing. But there is also another means of protection. The wards are keyed to certain DNA. Anyone who is permitted to enter may enter; all others are denied access. I once saw a trespasser ripped to pieces within ten feet of the main threshold. It was awful.”

  “Kieran and I are identical twins.”

  “You’re positive? Does the doctor concur?”

  “He does—we had him run another blood test, just to be sure.”

  “All right, then this just might work. But I have to warn you, magic is not going to work against the Mages, Lucas. Not any sort of magic—innate, cast spells, natural magic. None of it. The whole structure, every rock, every bolt, is saturated with wards. Trust me, if there was a means to break them, it would have been done by now.”

  A smile, wide and slightly evil, split her face, and for the first time, it struck Lucas how unearthly beautiful she was. A few hours ago, he’d thought of her only as a weapon, but now…she was his weapon. His ticket inside, and with bit of luck, his ticket back out.

  “What are you smiling about?” he asked, as the grin grew ever wider.

  “Only that you are one lucky bastard. Worton personally sent me after your brother. Not the entire Circle—Worton. To make this even better, he requested I report back to him, and I’m alone. With a bit of luck, we’ll meet in his private chambers, which are off the main foyer. They’re a grand affair, dark, carved wood and lots of fancy books and shitty brass knickknacks. Certain to impress.” Chest heaving, she added, an unholy glow in her eyes, “I can’t wait to see them splattered with the bastard’s blood.”

  Lucas couldn’t keep the answering smile from his face as he surveyed her. “Like I said before. You are a wicked, wicked thing.”

  As quickly as it had appeared, the grin, and the emotion, vanished, replaced with a detached calm. “Sorry. I got a little bit ahead of myself. Yes, you’ll be leashed, and I suggest you not fight against it. Submission is the best policy.” Lucas couldn’t tell if she was serious or joking. “Once we’re through the main doors, we’ll be asked to wait. You’ll need to remain calm and stay quiet.”

  “I can’t see where—”

  “You’ll be blind,” Victoria explained. “Part of the warding system is to render the captives as helpless as possible. Trust me, I’ve brought in far more dangerous men than you without a fuss. You’re going to be blind, deaf and helpless. You’ll rely on me to guide you, and you’re going to have to trust me. Do you think you can do that?”

  Something in Lucas quailed. No, he didn’t think he could. Shit, he didn’t even know her.

  “If you don’t trust me, if you panic, or if you strike out, they’ll incapacitate you. Then it will be over for you, because I can’t protect you in there. You’ll truly become their prisoner.”

  “Who’s going to incapacitate me? The Mages?”

  “No,” Kieran said, from just down the hallway. “The guards. They’re not human. Far from it. And the magic they can summon, you cannot protect yourself against it. Do what she says, Luc.” Fear shone in his eyes. “For fuck’s sake, Luc, listen to her.”

  Cool, small hands slid into Lucas’s, and he pulled his gaze away from Kieran’s face and turned down to the woman holding his hands so tightly. He stared into her grey-green eyes—fell into them, actually. She never broke their gaze. “I swore an oath to your brother,” she said. “I will get you inside. And I will get you out. Safely and in one piece. But for this to work, you have to trust me. I’ve never failed. Not at anything I’ve ever done. And I swear to you, I won’t fail tonight.”

  At that moment, the world vanished for Lucas. The hallway. Kieran. Everything. Only this woman who held his hands so firmly, and her vow to help him get the vengeance that had burned in his heart for longer than he cared to admit.

  “All right.” He lifted their clasped hands and pressed them to his lips. “I trust you, Victoria.”

  “What the fuck is going on here?”

  Alexis’s shout broke through his semi-conscious haze and Lucas shuddered back to reality, dropping Victoria’s hands as if they were made of fire. Rubbing his palms on his thighs, he spun and faced the furious brunette storming down the hall toward them, black hair streaming like a war banner behind her.

  “You keep your hands off him, you fucking Tracker.” With her hands curled into claws, Lucas noted just how sharp Alexis’s nails were, as she focused her fury on Victoria.

  Lucas made a move to block her, but Kieran got there first. “Working out the logistics for tonight, Lexi, that’s all. There’s plenty that could go wrong, and I need to know my brother’s going to be safe.” No mistaking the unspoken line drawn in the sand. He might be your lover, but he’s my blood, and that means I trump you. Every. Single. Time. Alexis’s eyes narrowed, but she halted, swinging her gaze between the three of them, trying to figure out who was lying.

  And who to be pissed at.

  Luc raised his hands in surrender. “I’ll lay it all out for you, Lexi. We’re done here, right?”

  Victoria nodded, and he slid his hand down to the small of Alexis’s back and steered her away, before anything else went sideways.

  The second they reached his room, Alexis spun around, her dark eyes silver-lined, mouth trembling. “At least have the fucking decency not to lie to my face, Luc. At least give me that. What I saw just now, that wasn’t planning a mission. That was something else entirely.”

  He pushed his hair back. “All right. It wasn’t only planning the mission. But that’s what we were doing, Lexi, I swear. Look, that girl, she’s up against the wall right now. She’s—”

  “You have got to be shitting me.” Any trace of tears had disappeared from Alexis’s face. “She’s been here for, what? A couple of hours? And she’s got you mooning after her like some…some…fucking schoolboy?” She shoved against him, sending him stumbling backward into his dresser. “You asshole,” she hissed, so much venom in her voice that Luc hardly believed the words came out of the mouth he’d been kissing just yesterday. “You liar.”

  “I’m not lying, Lex.”

  Alexis pushed her hair back. “Oh, but you are, Lucas Grey. If not to me, then to yourself. Because the way you looked at her? What I saw just now? I’ve never seen you like that. Not with me. Not ever. So tell yourself whatever you need to, but at least make sure it’s the truth.”

  Spinning on her heel, she turned to go. “And you can leave me out of your little mission tonight. I have a feeling you won’t be needing my help at all.”

  Fuck. Now they were down to seven for tonight.

  And it struck him how sad it was that was his first thought.

  And he didn’t even go after her to try to explain.

  13

  The bridge was a grey smudge in the darkness, and only Victoria’s innate abilities allowed her to detect the shimmer of the portal hovering beneath it. Trying to concentrate on what lay ahead, and not the precious moments ticking past, Victoria led the way through Central Park, instincts open and listening to anything and anyone who might be watching.

  Other than a few late-night joggers and one extraordinarily slow dog walker, the park was empty.

  A flick of her wrist and the leash dangled in the air between her and Lucas.

  And there was one final, not-so-pleasant task to take care of. “This has to go around your neck. You’ll want to be struggling when we come through on the other side, but not too much, or this will hurt you.” Her chest grew tight and she risked a sideways glance to Kieran. “There’s one more thing. The rest of you are going to need to hang back. By about ten minutes.”


  “Not fucking happening,” Kieran said, moving closer to Lucas. “Not in the plan, and something you should have mentioned before now.” The rest agreed, jostling in closer, until they formed a tight ring of muscle and steel around her.

  All Lucas did was tilt his head and ask, “Why?”

  “Because I have people who follow me everywhere,” Victoria said. “People who will report directly back to Worton. And what I need for them to see is me emerge from the arch with my prisoner. Not me and a whole platoon of magical beings armed to the hilt. They’ll lock the Hall down faster than we can dive back through the portal, and then the Mages will hunt all of you down, to the very last person.”

  Lucas calmly ordered his team, “Stay here. Give us ten minutes, then follow through the portal. Kieran will sense where I am. Follow us as far as you can, and then find a place to wait.”

  Victoria met their eyes until they backed off a step. The hulk, the one they called Cole, grinned, his teeth white and pointy. “He’d better come out of there, woman, or we’re coming in.”

  She didn’t bother pointing out that would be pretty much useless, because in sizing him up, she figured he might actually stand a chance at getting past the first wave of guards.

  “Understood. There’s a small park across the street from the Hall, on the south side of Vandon Street. This time of night, there will only be a few sets of eyes on it. Keep behind the trees and stay low—the cameras are motion-sensitive and monitor every corner of the building.” Victoria had just given them everything she knew. Everything she had to give. A snap of her wrist and the leash tightened itself around Lucas’s neck, and he strained against it, despite his promises, despite himself.

  With a tug, and without a backward glance, Victoria stepped through, dragging him behind her.

  It was still raining when they arrived on the other side.

  London smelled like limestone. Old limestone. And the smell of the nearby lake, aptly named the Serpentine, leached into her senses, despite her best efforts, causing her steps to falter. But she refocused, tugging Lucas along, feeling him resist, ever so slightly. Good—this needed to be convincing enough that the men trailing her fell in behind them quickly and without suspicion, and stayed with them all the way to Obsidian Hall. Only then would she be able to get Lucas inside.

  “Come on, keep up,” she snarled, yanking on the leash, wincing at Lucas’s grunt of pain. The crunch of gravel behind them, the brush of footsteps against the wet grass, and she and Lucas set off, southwest, toward Knightsbridge, the two guards following a respectable distance behind. On and on they went, cutting across street after street, down alleys and across thoroughfares until she tugged Lucas to a stop in front of the nondescript, grey-stained limestone building. Her heart beating a mile a minute, she circumvented the front and aimed for the side entrance, the narrow alley lining the west side, and placed her hand against the stone. A doorway appeared out of the white stone wall, a yawing emptiness, and, taking a deep breath, she plunged in, pulling Lucas behind her, crossing the threshold, and the wards, as quickly as possible.

  The sensation hit her fast and hard, and she kept one hand firmly on Lucas, feeling him shudder beneath her touch. But he lived—the crossing hadn’t killed him, which meant his DNA passed the first, crucial test.

  The wave of nausea passed quickly, but she realized Lucas would struggle, so she braced herself against him, allowed him to lean into her, taking his considerable weight. His chest heaved and his body shook as the wards stripped him bare, the magic, the energy leaching from his body, her arms wrapped firmly around him. This was what she’d tried to warn him of. This was what no explanation could truly convey.

  Exactly how the wards worked. What they did to you.

  Within seconds, he’d be blind. Practically deaf. Before that happened, she murmured, her lips pressed tightly to his ear, “Trust me, Lucas—remember, you need to trust me. I won’t leave you, and I won’t betray you. I swear it.”

  He might have nodded, might have murmured something back, but in the darkness, she couldn’t be sure. Running her free hand along the wall, she found the inset iron bar and followed it, trailing her fingers along the cool metal surface, until she reached the inner door. Another press of her palm and it opened to bright, blinding sunlight. As always, Victoria blinked, acclimating to such extreme optical changes. Three huge, ugly guards converged on her, reaching for the leash, but she warned them off, flashing her teeth. “This one’s mine. Find Worton. Tell him Monroe’s back.” She sent the bastards her most evil smile. “And tell him I’ve brought him what he wanted.”

  As she’d expected, he made her wait. Out in the open, under the overly bright light, Lucas on his knees before her, trying not to heave his guts up all over the place. It took effort to keep the bored, slightly pissed-off expression pasted on her face, but when Worton finally did appear, it slid right off. The bastard wasn’t alone.

  Far from it.

  Worton was flanked by two guards. And someone even worse. Staring out at her, from hooded eyes, was someone she’d met only once. A man even the High Mages spoke about in hushed, secretive voices. Some called him the Druid; some simply called him Devlin. But other Trackers called him the Devourer. And right now, he was smiling at her as if she were the only thing in the entire world he was interested in.

  “Hello, Miss Monroe,” Devlin Bloodbane said, his voice oily and thick. “Let’s see what you’ve brought us tonight.”

  14

  Blind, deaf and devoid of his powers, Lucas was in full panic mode.

  Something he hadn’t experienced since he was a teenager. And even then, it had been nothing like this. That had been the inexperience of youth. This was true fear. The kind that ate away at you until you went mad.

  Instincts, the ones he’d spent centuries honing, were of no use.

  As if she sensed his head-fuck, Victoria spun out a tendril of magic, the slightest reassurance she was still right beside him. And somehow, that phantom touch calmed him. Her magic tasted fresh, like ocean spray, or a west wind, and, tangled with his own power, it balanced him out until he was centered once again, his mind focused.

  Not that a clear head helped the situation. His fighting skillset was useless, his magic gone. And for once in his miserable life, he wished he’d listened to Kieran. To Victoria—to anyone.

  Speaking of Victoria, seconds ago, down the spelled leash, he’d felt another tremor. Fear. Strong enough he’d sensed her trembling through the connection. When her magic turned skittish, Lucas knew something had changed. His hands curled into fists, his muscles groaning with the effort, and Lucas reminded himself not to fight the magic, which would only weaken him even more.

  Victoria’s trembling was followed by a shudder, and he felt a tug on the leash.

  He followed, counting the steps. Twenty-eight. Then Victoria’s hand, firm and steady on his shoulder, pushing him to his knees. For a long moment, she kept the pressure there, before releasing him with a gentle squeeze. Another faint trickle of her water magic flowed into him, and a warm, comforting sensation filled him up. He sharply felt her absence as she stepped away, and then sensed a different presence appear in front of him.

  Something old. Something malevolent.

  As if a veil were ripped from his eyes, he could see. He could hear. And suddenly, Lucas wished he could do neither.

  “Hello, seafarer. Or should I say…Greycloak? It’s been a long time.”

  Devlin Bloodbane had been alive for more than a thousand years by the time Lucas was born. The Earth was perhaps the hundredth world he’d existed on, and thanks to Kieran, it was also the last. The reason the Mages wanted Kieran suddenly became very, very clear. And Lucas realized his chance of survival just became very, very slim.

  But still, he had a chance.

  Plastering a cocky grin on his face, he looked up at Devlin, feeling the scar’s tight tug at the corner of his lip. “You’re looking old, motherfucker.”

  The arrogant, self-sati
sfied expression slid off Devlin’s face, leaving behind one Lucas knew all too well—absolute hatred.

  The blow, when it came, stunned him. Stars flashed on the insides of his eyelids, and pain rocketed through his brain as it sloshed around in his skull. But he recovered, clambering back to his knees, realizing Victoria had used the opportunity to release him from the magical leash. He might be weakened. But now, at least he was free.

  Bloodbane got down to his haunches, the black, shiny robe bunching up on the floor, a smear of bright red blood on his knuckles as he got in Lucas’s face. They’d dragged Lucas into a fancy office, with beveled mahogany wood all the way to the coffered ceiling, bookshelves groaning underneath the weight of leather-bound tomes and a car-sized desk. The space was already tight, and by Lucas’s count, there were six of them packed in here, including two deadly-looking guards. Devlin leaned in and snarled, “You’re going to get me off this fucking planet. But before that, Greycloak, you are going to give me my powers back.”

  Well. Good luck with that, since the bastard has the wrong fucking brother.

  Devlin’s head tilted, his consideration long and lingering, and Lucas wondered if he detected something, since the bastard had been around longer than anything else alive. But before Lucas had a chance to wonder any further, Worton slipped from behind his massive desk and, in a nasally whine, said, “I’d like to point out it was on my orders the prisoner is here in the first place. In case there are any recommendations you’d like to make.” A slight pause. “To the council.”

  Thank God for ass kissing and brown nosing.

  Devlin rose, his footsteps soft on the carpet as he rounded Lucas. “My understanding is the Tracker brought the prisoner in. Monroe, correct?” From just behind them, Lucas caught Victoria’s faint murmur of assent. “And for your information, Worton, I don’t give a rat’s ass who set this operation up. Only that Kieran Greycloak is here. And he does what I want. Open the book,” Devlin demanded, and Worton seemed to shrink a few inches.