Magic filtered into the room.
“No one did,” he told the man, gritting his teeth against the pain. “We’re just here on a delivery for Ben Summers. You can call and ask him.”
“Hmm.”
The sound was lost somewhere between disbelief and disdain, but at the noise, Cole’s headache spiked, making his hands jerk at the ropes. “I swear! We’re not involved in this!”
“Yet you knew my name,” Magnus said.
The man came closer and the pain came with him. Lily recoiled, whimpering.
“It’s not like that!”
“How is it, then?”
The pain increased. Blackness throbbed at the edges of his vision and his head felt like it wanted to explode.
“Stop it!” Lily cried.
Magnus ignored her. The pain grew stronger.
“Damn you!” Cole snarled through clenched teeth. “My mother told me stories about a Magnus Carnegean. That’s all!”
The man stopped. The magic in the room faded as swiftly as it had come. Breathing hard against the retreating pain, Cole looked up.
“Your mother,” Magnus stated, his tone level.
“Yes. I swear we didn’t know you were here.”
The man regarded him. “And who is your mother?”
Cole hesitated, the idea of making up a name flitting through his head. But while the man’s expression was mostly unreadable, there was something about the intensity of his eyes that made lying seem the riskier option. “Clara Jamison.”
Though already immobile, the man seemed to become ice. “Clara… Jamison.”
His skull throbbing, Cole nodded.
“Clara Jamison is dead,” Magnus said.
“Yeah, I know.”
“And who are you?”
“Cole,” he said and then paused. He hadn’t said his full name in years. At least, not the real one. But that same intense look remained in the man’s eyes, making truth seem bizarrely safer than a lie. “Cole Jamison.”
“You lie.”
Brow furrowing incredulously, Cole stared. “Why would I lie about that?” he asked, knowing there were a million reasons, none of which hopefully had anything to do with a bunch of Merlin in the middle of nowhere.
“How did Clara Jamison die?” Magnus retorted instead.
“Why do you care?”
“Answer the question, cripple!”
Magic pervaded the air, making him wince. Fury darkened Magnus’ face, threatening more pain if he didn’t answer.
“She was shot in a robbery,” Cole growled. “Or killed by Taliesin wizards. Depends on who you believe.”
The magic vanished. For a moment, Magnus regarded him, and then he glanced back at the other men. “Geoffrey, call Ben Summers. Ask him if he sent a delivery boy here today, and get an exact description if he did.” He looked back at Cole. “Tell him we haven’t seen anyone, and we are concerned.”
Nodding briefly, the dark-eyed wizard started out of the shed.
Cole’s gaze darted between them, his heart rate spiking. “H-he doesn’t know my name is Cole,” he called to the man.
Geoffrey paused.
“He thinks my name is Paul Wood,” Cole finished uncomfortably.
Magnus scoffed as Geoffrey left the room. “And you ask why we would think you a liar, when the man you claim as your employer doesn’t even know your name?”
“It’s not like that.”
“Hmm.”
Silence fell between them, broken a minute later when Geoffrey returned.
“Sue Summers was reluctant, but she did finally confirm that a young man has been staying at their farm for the past three months. She sent him and his little sister on a delivery today.” He glanced to Cole and Lily. “She asks us to call the minute we see them.”
“Did she give descriptions?”
“They match.”
Magnus looked back over at them, and his eyes narrowed. “Your sister?”
Cole said nothing.
Mouth tightening, Magnus glanced to Geoffrey. “And there was nothing in the truck?”
“Bernhard couldn’t find anything but the food the cripple claims he was delivering.” Geoffrey paused. “He still has to be lying about her, either way.”
Cole’s brow furrowed.
Magnus was silent, muscles working beneath the skin of his jaw, and then he shook his head. “We have to be sure. Bring the boy to the house and get rid of the human. Make it look like he lost control of the truck.”
“What?” Cole sputtered, shocked.
Lily gasped, scrambling backward while, at Geoffrey’s motion, the overweight wizard started toward her. The ropes tore at Cole’s wrists as he twisted, trying to get between the girl and the enormous man. With a shove, the wizard sent the chair sideways, tossing Cole to the floor, and then he bent over Lily, ignoring her scream as he hefted her from the woodpile.
“Get your hands off her!” Cole yelled.
Thrashing in the wizard’s grip, Lily clawed at the man, her nails leaving red marks anywhere her fingers could reach. With a snarl, the wizard slapped her hard, sending her head snapping to one side, and for a heartbeat, she went limp.
Rage stole Cole’s words. Blood slicked his fingers as he yanked at the ropes. Flopping the girl around, the enormous wizard gripped the back of her shirt and then dragged her through the door.
Paying no attention to them, Geoffrey sliced the ropes holding Cole’s ankles. Instantly, Cole kicked at him, but the man blocked the motion and then slammed his fist into Cole’s face.
Red lights blinded him as Geoffrey hauled him up and then propelled him toward the door. Stumbling, Cole blinked hard, searching for Lily as the wizard shoved him outside. Her shrieks drew his attention. Thirty feet away, the other man was towing her toward the driveway.
“You can’t do this!” Cole snarled, planting his heels into the turf to stop the wizard from dragging him farther. “She’s a kid, dammit! You can’t just–”
“Shut up,” Geoffrey ordered.
Inarticulate with rage, Cole ignored him. Throwing his weight to one side, he fought to break the man’s grip.
Geoffrey faltered, and then jerked the ropes hard, sending pain shooting up Cole’s arms. Whipping Cole around, he looked back toward the shed.
Magnus stood by the shed door. The older man gave a short nod.
“Fine,” Geoffrey growled. “You can keep your pet a bit longer.” He raised his voice. “Alfred! Just bring the human with us for now. The kid’s panicking that we’re taking his toy.”
Wordlessly, the large man diverted toward the house. Breathing hard and torn between relief and adrenaline, Cole let Geoffrey haul him after them, his gaze locked on Lily. The little girl twisted in the wizard’s grip, tears shining above the livid mark across her cheek. Cole nodded as he met her eyes, trying desperately to look reassuring.
Wrestling Lily to one side, Alfred yanked open the French doors beyond the marble patio and then dragged the girl with him as he headed in. Scowling, Geoffrey pulled Cole after them. With a warning glare for them both, the men came to a stop inside the door and then glanced back, waiting for Magnus.
Cole ignored them, casting another look to Lily. The little girl didn’t lift her gaze from the carpet. Shaking with fury, he turned to the enormous room.
The lavish parlor would’ve made the Smithsonian green with envy. Glass cases were everywhere, filled with ridiculously ornate antiques. Dark mahogany tables were scattered throughout the spacious room, each topped with further displays, and on the alabaster walls, paintings hung between imposing bookcases. Past the archways on two sides of the parlor, more rooms stretched back through the house, their walls blockaded by an army of bookcases extending from the distant ceiling to the dense carpet. Identical to the parlor in nearly every way, more display cases occupied each room, though the closest possessed the addition of a bored-looking older woman idly dusting.
At a large, Victorian-era writing desk on the far end of the parlo
r, another woman glanced up as they entered. Perfectly coiffed gray hair sat in rigid waves above her glistening reading glasses and, at the sight of the two wizards, she set aside the leather-bound book she’d been examining and rose to her feet.
“What do you mean by bringing them in here?” she demanded.
Her gaze raked over him and Lily as though taking in every smudge of dirt and sawdust, and when her eyes came to rest on the blood falling from Cole’s wrists, her brows shot up in indignation.
“Louise!” she cried, her voice rising to a near shriek.
The woman in the next room looked over and then set down her feather duster resignedly before trudging toward the parlor. As she came closer, Cole could see the resemblance between her and the other woman, despite the boredom that seemed permanently etched onto her face. “Yes?” she sighed.
“Get bandages and stop that cripple boy from dripping blood on the Persian!”
Without any change of expression, Louise walked away.
“I do not know what you were thinking, Geoffrey. Bringing those two in here. Look at the dirt that human is dragging in. Honestly! You couldn’t keep them outside?”
Making an irritated noise, the woman turned away and retrieved her book, carrying it farther into the house as though to hide it from ballistic drops of blood or dirt that might suddenly hurl themselves through space. Paying no attention to the retreating sounds of annoyance, Louise returned with a box of bandages under one arm.
“Try anything and your pet is back out the door,” Geoffrey told Cole calmly.
At Cole’s silence, the man smirked and then spun him around. Pain tingled through Cole’s hands and arms as the ropes were sliced away. Gritting his teeth, he looked over at the two wizards as Louise set half-heartedly to bandaging his wounds.
“Untie her too,” Cole growled.
With a sneer to mirror Geoffrey’s own, Alfred released his grip on Lily and instantly the girl plummeted to the floor. The overwhelming urge to punch the man welled up in Cole, but his eyes went to Lily, watching as she scooted away from the massive wizard. Strolling through the open French door, Magnus glanced around at the tableau.
“Go ahead and untie the human as well,” he ordered dismissively.
Reluctantly, Geoffrey jerked his chin at Alfred, and the man bent to cut the ropes. Scrambling away the moment her wrists and ankles were free, Lily rushed to Cole and clung to him, her fingers digging into his side.
“Watch it, brat,” Louise snapped as the girl jostled her work.
Wrapping his free arm around Lily, Cole gripped her tightly. With an aggrieved sigh, Louise tied off the last bandage and straightened. Muttering imprecations about cripples, she plodded back to her dusting.
“Have a seat,” Magnus instructed.
Cole didn’t move. “What the hell do you people want with me?”
“Yes, Magnus,” the other woman said imperially, returning to the room. “What in the world do you mean by bringing a filthy cripple and human into my house?”
The man glanced to her as she crossed to his side. Regarding him over the length of her severely pointed nose, she waited for his response.
“Florence, I would like you to meet Cole…” Magnus paused. “Jamison.”
The arch expression faded, though her lifted eyebrow didn’t drop from its height. Glacially, her gaze slid over to Cole and Lily again.
“Surely not,” she stated.
“He says so.”
Eyes narrowing, her icy stare grated over Cole.
“What’s going on here?” Cole demanded. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“And he’s a cripple,” Florence said, ignoring him. She sniffed. “How predictable.”
“Hey! I asked you a question!”
“How can you be certain?” she asked Magnus.
The man paused, his mouth tightening. “Boy, answer me this. The woman you claim was your mother–”
“Clara Jamison was my–”
“Clarinda!”
Cole blinked at the near-rabid snarl. Trembling rage briefly suffused Florence’s face before being smothered by rigid propriety.
“What was her favorite color?” Magnus continued as if the exchange hadn’t happened.
“Why do you need to–”
“Answer the question.”
He looked between them. Obviously psychotic, they still possessed an implacable cast to their expressions that made them seem even more dangerous than they were insane. At his side, he could feel Lily shaking as she clutched him. “Indigo blue.”
“And her favorite food?”
“What does this have–” He cut off at the look that flashed through Magnus’ eyes. “Pineapple and mushroom pizza,” he allowed tightly. “I think. But I was only ten when she died so, you know, it’s a bit fuzzy.”
Magnus glanced to Florence, who sniffed again. “Well, regardless, it’s not like we have room for anyone else,” she said acerbically.
“Hang on, what?”
“We will just have to make do,” Magnus told the woman. “It’s not like he’s given us much choice.”
“Hey!” Cole interrupted, stepping forward only to have Geoffrey snag his shoulder. “We’re not staying.”
“Yes, you are,” Magnus replied. “We are not going to risk letting you back into the world with what you know.”
“‘What I know’?”
“You know where we are.”
“We’re not planning on telling anyone!”
“And that’s very noble,” Magnus said. “But you’re a cripple. By nature, you lack the capacity to uphold that intention if a wizard wished to take the information from you. And she is a human, so she isn’t even a viable part of the equation.”
He stared at them, torn between anger and incredulity, and briefly lost for words. But at his expression, a condescending look came over Florence’s face.
“Oh, do spare us your righteous indignation,” she sneered. “Honestly. It’s so tiring.”
“Who the hell do you think–”
“We are the premier historians of Merlin, so we have authority on the situation,” Magnus interrupted, and then he paused, as though deciding whether to acknowledge his next words with actual speech. “And we are your grandparents, so you’ll do as we say.”
Florence looked as though she’d tasted something sour and turned away.
Cole stared, his anger screeching to a nearly speechless halt. “What?”
The woman made a disgusted noise, but Magnus just sighed. “We will take care of you, now that you’re here. You haven’t given us much choice, showing up like this.”
“We didn’t know you were here!”
Magnus gave a dismissive wave. “Irrelevant. Now that you are here, you have to stay. You’re too much of a liability to our work for us to jeopardize it by letting you roam free.”
Cole scoffed, his disbelief momentarily joining forces with his anger, though both were making it hard to breathe. “Your… your work?” He shook his head, trying to regroup. “I don’t give a shit about your work! You’re my–” he choked on the word. “And you’re going to take care of me? You left me out there to rot! You left my…” he gasped, fighting for air. “You sick freaks, what the hell–”
Florence’s gasp cut him off. “How dare you, you disrespectful little throwback! Do you have no understanding of who we are? What we do? We are the guardians of the very lifeblood of our people! We protect their history! We secreted away each one of these artifacts at tremendous personal risk at the beginning of this little uprising, and you want to… to what? To endanger our sacrifice by running back out there, where the first Taliesin miscreant who found you would instantly torture you to death for that information? You uncultured savage, do you have any idea of the catastrophe you would cause?”
Cole stared as the woman spun away, her chest heaving with horrified fury. For a moment, he wondered if she seriously believed the knowledge of their location would be tattooed across his forehea
d, or if she was just that narcissistically paranoid.
And then he realized it was probably both.
“You abandoned us,” he told her. “You left while Taliesin–”
“Oh, please,” Florence replied disgustedly. “We abandoned no one.”
“Taliesin is only worthy of consideration if they learn our location,” Magnus explained. “And Merlin can easily attend to any ‘threat’ those upstarts may try to pose without the placation of knowing our whereabouts.”
Cole wanted to laugh, though he wasn’t sure why. “Wait, Merlin doesn’t even know where you are?”
“Our location is immaterial to them,” Magnus said calmly. “King Patrick has this little uprising well in hand, for all that those fools would like to call this some kind of ‘war’. It is only a matter of time till our forces subdue the troublemakers. And in the interim, we’ve simply taken steps to ensure that any Taliesin reprobates who desire to endanger our invaluable history will believe the records destroyed – a falsification we are determined to keep in place. After all, we have a duty to uphold.”
“This nonsense was a foregone conclusion before it even began,” Florence added derisively. “There’s no need to risk irreplaceable artifacts simply because some Taliesin nitwits actually thought they could win a war against Merlin.”
She scoffed, shaking her head.
He blinked, trying to put words to his rage. “You… those ‘nitwits’ killed your daughter! They left her bleeding to death all alone and you just–”
“She brought that on herself!” Florence hissed furiously.
He stopped, struck speechless by the hate staring him in the face.
“Clarinda was always headstrong,” Magnus continued for his wife. “Never listening. Never respecting the duty we held. Even as a teenager, she sullied her legacy, obstinately involving herself in everything from Taliesin reconciliation programs to cripple aid projects. She never appreciated that, as the preeminent minds of our people, our responsibility has always been to uphold the purity and honor of Merlin. Her brothers understood that and tried to stop her. We all tried to stop her. It only stands to reason that her poor choices ended her in the position that they did.”
Taliesin Ascendant (The Children and the Blood) Page 12