“I know you wouldn’t approve of my methods, my love, but I do these things for you. For us,” he whispered. “I can’t bear this life without you and since I’m too much a sinner to join you in heaven I must return you to my hell. Please, my love, forgive me.” He pressed the locket to his lips. “Forgive me.”
Reluctantly replacing the locket, Gaius headed toward the door, allowing his anguish to transform back to the frigid anger that kept him from sinking into complete madness.
Soon Dara would be returned from the grave, he reassured himself. And he would forget the vile cost of having her back in his arms.
As if to remind him that the vile costs weren’t over yet, the scent of fairy blood filled the air. With a hiss, he moved with fluid speed to enter the kitchen, not at all surprised to discover a circle of flickering candles on the floor with a wooden bowl set in the center filled with thick blood.
Black magic always demanded a sacrifice.
The greater the magic, the greater the sacrifice.
Without hesitation he charged around the circle to grab the witch by her neck. “I told you to wait.”
“Hey, it’s not me,” she squeaked, her eyes wide with panic. “Do you think I could kill and drain a full-grown fairy?”
His fangs burst from his gums as he dropped the female and whirled to prowl toward Dolf, who tried to scramble backward. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Preparing a spell.” He gave a yip of pain as Gaius slammed him against the wall. “Shit.”
Keeping the cur pinned to the wall with one hand, Gaius lifted the other to point a finger directly into Dolf ’s flushed face. “You’ve obviously forgotten the first rule of this household.”
“What rule?”
“No magic without my permission.”
“I wasn’t going to cast it,” Dolf hastily assured him. “At least not yet.”
“No. Magic.” His power was a tangible force that blasted through the room. “Is that clear enough?”
Blood trickled from Dolf ’s ear from the explosive burst of power, but with a dogged determination, he refused to back down. “Let me explain.” He grimaced as Gaius’s hand pressed against his chest with enough pressure to crack a rib. “Please, it’s important.”
Dio. Gaius dropped his hand and stepped back. Obviously the stupid dog wasn’t going to be satisfied until he’d pleaded for his cause. “Make it quick,” he snarled.
Dolf sucked in a shallow breath, his expression wary. “We have to assume that Caine will be protecting Cassandra.”
“And?”
“And unless you plan to get your hands dirty, we’re going to need a weapon to keep him out of the fight.”
The bastard had a point. If Gaius was forced to use the medallion to take them to the prophet, he would be weakened and not about to risk a battle with a pureblooded Were.
That didn’t mean he had to like it.
“A spell?” he managed to spit out.
Dolf fumbled to grab the crystal hung around his neck. The clear stone glowed with a disturbing green light. “Yes.”
Gaius stepped back, his nose flaring in revulsion. “What does it do?”
“Once the magic is released it will hold Caine in stasis.”
“Explain.”
Dolf furrowed his brow. “It’s like a magical coma,” he struggled to explain. Thinking always proved to be a chore for the cur. “He’ll be suspended in a place between life and death.”
Gaius abruptly narrowed his eyes, struck by a sudden inspiration. “He’ll be completely incapacitated?”
“Completely.”
“How long can you hold it?”
Dolf nodded toward Ingrid, who stood in a corner with a duffel bag that matched her cammo pants and T-shirt. “Long enough for Ingrid to put him in a pair of silver shackles.”
Absently smoothing his tie, Gaius paced across the floor, weighing his options. “Can you put the prophet in the same spell?”
There was a startled silence before Dolf nervously cleared his throat. Did he sense that Gaius was plotting to betray their twisted little Justice League?
“I can only cast it once, but if she was standing close enough to Caine, then it should work on both of them.”
“Good.” Gaius turned back to meet the cur’s guarded gaze. “I want them both incapacitated.”
“There’s no guarantee—” Dolf bit off his words as Gaius took a step forward. “Of course. No problem.”
Confident the cur would obey, Gaius snapped his fingers in Sally’s direction. “Witch.”
The female moved toward him with a sulky pout. “I have a name.”
He dismissed her complaint with a wave of his hand. “Do whatever it is you have to do to find the prophet so we can be done with this.”
“I’m a witch, not a miracle worker. It’ll take a few minutes.”
He bared his fangs. “Then stop wasting time.”
“Okay.” Stomping toward the counter, she dropped Cassandra’s hair into a shallow bowl. “Don’t get your panties in a twist.”
“Someday you will learn your place,” he warned. “Let’s hope you survive the process.”
Seeming to sense he wasn’t joking, Sally hastily bent over the bowl and muttered low words of magic. As she’d warned, it took several moments before she at last lifted her head, a layer of sweat coating her face.
“I found her.”
Gaius strolled to stand at her side while the matching curs crowded behind her. He peered into the bowl, uncertain what to expect. Then, as he studied the thin layer of water, he realized that there were pictures flickering over the silver surface.
Leaning closer, he watched in fascination as the image of a pretty young female with long, blond hair and emerald eyes came into focus.
Cassandra.
The debacle of his last encounter with the prophet was forgotten as renewed hope flared in his frozen heart.
This time there won’t be any mistakes, he silently swore.
“Where is she?”
“Hold on.”
The witch waved her hand over the bowl and the picture shifted. Or more precisely it expanded, like a camera zooming back to reveal a wider angle. He saw a farmhouse surrounded by trees and acres of rolling cornfields. Then the cluster of lights that marked a small town.
“Fascinating, but nothing helps to pinpoint the location,” he said dryly. “This could be anyplace in the Midwest.”
The image widened even farther and Sally made a sound of satisfaction. “There’s a city.”
“It’s Chicago,” Dolf abruptly announced.
Gaius sent him a warning glance. “You’re certain?”
“Absolutely. I recognize the skyline.”
“Fine.” Gaius pointed toward the bowl. “Return to the prophet.”
There was a blur of movement as the image condensed to focus on the female Were, who was standing in the center of a book-lined room with Caine holding her in protective arms.
“Is that what you wanted?” Sally demanded.
“I need to know if she’s alone with the Were.”
The witch concentrated as she shifted the images to search the farmhouse and outlying buildings.
“Looks like it.”
It did, indeed. Which did nothing to reassure Gaius.
“Why?” he muttered.
Dolf sent him a baffled frown. “What do you mean?”
“Why are they always alone?” he clarified in icy tones. Was he the only one with a brain? “They could surround themselves with the most powerful Were guardians. Or even vampires. Why leave themselves so vulnerable to attack?”
Dolf shrugged. “Caine has hated the King of Weres and his people for centuries. There’s no way in hell he’d turn his honeypot over to that megalomaniac,” he said, clearly indifferent to any fear they might be walking into a trap. “And he isn’t stupid. He would never trust the leeches. To be honest, I don’t think Caine has ever truly trusted anyone.”
“And they’re not unprotected,” Sally added, pointing toward the edge of the yard. “The entire house is surrounded by layers of hexes and cloaking spells. There’s no way we’ll get through that barrier without some serious magical mojo.”
Gaius was not entirely satisfied, but he wasn’t stupid enough to believe the Dark Lord’s patience was infinite. Any moment he was going to demand results.
And the gods have pity on all of them if the evil bastard was disappointed.
“I’ll get us in,” he grimly promised, stabbing Dolf with a warning glare. “You make sure you have your spell ready.”
The cur smiled. “Whatever you say, boss.”
Caine kept Cassie locked tight in his arms, his wolf needing the intimate contact to reassure the beast that she was unharmed and back where she belonged.
The past few hours had been . . .
He shuddered, unwilling to relive the torturous wait for Cassie to arrive.
Logically, he’d been convinced that the aggravating female was headed to this isolated lair. But after his hair-raising journey with Yannah that had defied the basic laws of physics, he’d had far too many hours to pace the floors and dwell on the numerous ways this could all go to hell.