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Claimed by the Assassins (An Academy of Assassins Novel Book 3)

Page 27

by Stacey Brutger


  “I have no need for your crown. He’s obviously the heir.” Morgan cocked her head as she studied them, when realization struck. “But you don’t want anyone to know.”

  “So not completely stupid.” He mused, sounding neither pleased nor disappointed, and a thread of worry wormed through her gut. The king strode farther into the room like he owned the place, his posture and bearing screaming danger. He leaned against the desk to study her, and she resisted the urge to duck her head when it felt like he could read all her secrets. “The question is whether we can trust you.”

  Morgan struggled not to fidget when he scanned her from head to toe, rattled by the sudden certainty that if she was found lacking, she would never leave this office.

  Then his gaze came to land on the child. “Well?”

  Chipmunk peered up at her, then wrapped an arm around her thigh, rested his slight form against her, and nodded.

  The king waited a beat longer, then sighed, some of his regal bearing melting away. “Very well. You will be permitted to act as my heir until young Dunarius comes into his full power and can learn to protect himself.”

  He made it sound like he was granting her a favor, but it was a noose tightening around her neck, ripping her away from the only family she’d ever known.

  Nor was it a job that she could turn down.

  “Allow Dunarius to remain here with me.” Desperation tightened in her gut, and she blurted out the first thing that popped into her mind.

  “Excuse me?” The king straightened slowly, his brown eyes shading to black, and the air crackled with magic.

  What was even worse, she didn’t even think he was aware of doing it.

  “You need me alive.” She angled her body in front of Dunarius. “You need us both alive. What better place to do that than the Academy? We can train him, keep him secret. He would be nothing more than another student.” She began to talk faster when the king began to advance. “No one would ever think to look for him on earth.”

  When he halted a foot from her, Morgan slowly released the breath that was stuck in her throat.

  “You would protect him with your life.”

  She wasn’t sure if it was a question or an order, but replied anyway. “Of course. He’s my cousin. When I’m called away, my mates will watch over him. If he’s threatened, we even have a banshee who could slip into the veil world and keep him safe.”

  “You would dare risk him being around a banshee?” The king roared, changing from an imperial king to a vengeful god. Power began to congeal in the air seconds before he flung out his arm.

  Morgan didn’t hesitate, she dropped to the ground and covered the boy with her body and braced herself for the pain she knew was coming…only nothing happened.

  Morgan lifted her head, then turned.

  Dunarius had his arm out, forming a protective shield over them.

  A moment later, the magic in the room drained away, and Dunarius slumped in her arms. She pulled him close, tapping her fingers against his cheek. “Chipmunk?”

  “Magic tires him.” The woman in the corner calmly put her knitting needles away and rose to take the boy from her. “He will be fine.”

  Morgan shot to her feet and scowled at the king. “What the hell is wrong with you? You could’ve hurt him!”

  The man blinked, his brown eyes swirling back into focus. He seemed taken aback for a second, his head cocked to the side in curiosity, perhaps because she dared to stand up to him, but then he scowled back at her. “Banshees are bringers of death.”

  “Don’t be an ass.” Morgan snorted. “They report deaths, they don’t bring them. There are two different types in the world. The banshee on my team is one of the few who actually defies the grim reaper and tries to save lives, not just watch and report the deaths.”

  Something sparked in his eyes, a hint of humor crinkled the corner of his eyes, and Morgan swallowed hard, realizing she’d just berated the king. “Um, Your Highness.”

  A light chuckle escaped him, and he crossed his arms. He remained close to her, not out of comfort, more likely so he could snap her neck if she did something to displease him. “You think your plan could work? You would give your life to protect him?”

  “Of course.” Morgan shrugged. “He’s family.”

  The king blinked again, and she realized it was how he showed surprise.

  “And what would you require in return?” He narrowed his eyes at her in suspicion, possibly calculating her future usefulness…or maybe the easiest way to kill her and get rid of her body.

  “Allow your son to rule Mount Olympus and grant me the Academy.” Morgan began to talk faster. “The people at the Academy will be my charges. Both realms are in chaos right now. Allow us to put our world to rights again, while you do the same to yours.”

  “And if I need your service?”

  “Appoint Ward and Shade as go-betweens for the realms. Grant them your protection, and that way neither one of us has to leave our realm. If you have need of me, send a message with them. No one will ever know. If I’m able, I will come when you call, but don’t threaten my men or my people or the Academy to get my attention.”

  They all still bore the scars of the last attack. Though she didn’t have proof that the king was behind it, she had her suspicions. “I’ll come because you asked, because only with you in power do we both get what we want.”

  “If I allow you to keep and train my son, you will send him home every night.” It was a demand, spoken casually, because no one had the balls to defy him. He straightened, his movements full of lethal grace one only got after extensive combat training.

  “No.” Morgan took a quick breath, surprised to find that she was still alive, then forced herself to continue. “Any open portal will lead people directly to him.”

  Morgan glanced around the room, then her gaze landed on the big jeweled blade at his side. “Give me your knife.”

  The king’s hand automatically dropped to his weapon, the pommel worn to his grip. When he didn’t move, Morgan held out her arm and wiggled her fingers. “Give it to me.”

  “Morgan…” Shade’s voice was a harsh whisper.

  Very slowly, the king pulled his blade, and she had a second to wonder if he was going to cut her throat. Then he tossed it in the air, caught the tip, and presented it to her. “Make your next decision very carefully.”

  Morgan moved very slowly as she accepted the knife, holding it with the handle in one hand, and the blade in the other, conscious of sharp edges slicing into her fingers.

  Then she closed her eyes and called to the metal. Only when it began to heat in her hand did she pull, concentrating on the image in her mind.

  Five minutes later, when she was done, her hairline was covered in sweat. She opened her eyes, then held out her arm.

  In her hand was an intricate necklace designed for a king. At the center was the large emerald. “You can use this to stay in contact with him. A drop of his blood on the stone, a spell only you know, and you can see him at any time.”

  The king’s brows rose, the first genuine smile crossing his face. “You are your mother’s daughter.”

  He accepted the silver necklace, then waved his hand over it, a light touch of magic rising in the room. Only when he was sure it didn’t have any nasty spells trapped inside it did he slip it over his head. “We have a deal.”

  “Wait.” Morgan and Shade spoke at the same time.

  The king gave an exasperated sigh, his patience clearly at an end. “What now?”

  “The nurse stays, too.” She pointed to the woman holding Dunarius. “She gets her freedom to come and go as she wants.”

  The king crossed his arms, clearly not pleased with the demand. “Why?”

  Morgan rubbed the back of her neck a little nervously. “Because when the Academy was moved many centuries ago, a gargoyle sworn to protect it was brought along.”

  The nurse stiffened, her head snapping up to stare at her. “Mal…”

  Mo
rgan nodded, only recognizing who the nurse was when she came to retrieve Dunarius from her arms. One touch, and she knew the woman was a gargoyle, the scent of burnt stone strong around her. “He’s been waiting for his mate to return for a very long time.”

  When the king didn’t seem convinced, she pushed home the only weakness he had. “Two gargoyles to protect your boy are better than one, right?”

  He just grunted, knowing he was being manipulated and not appreciating the turnabout. He gave her a sharp glare before turning toward Shade, letting his annoyance escape in his voice, “And you, demigod. What is your request?”

  “Remove the bindings blocking her powers.” He stepped forward, then bowed his head a tad, his concession to showing respect. “She’s going to be queen of the Academy. If people are going to be coming after her, wanting to remove your heir, then she needs to be able to protect herself. And him.”

  The king glanced at her curiously, touching the necklace she’d given him almost distractedly. “Your mother came to me, warning me of a threat. I didn’t listen, and it cost your mother her life. It also nearly killed you in the process.”

  Her thoughts scattered—he’d been aware that she was alive this whole time and left her to rot.

  “She begged me to bind your magic to keep the extent of your powers secret. It was a barbaric practice, but she said it was the only way to keep you safe.” He shook his head sadly. “Unfortunately, we were too late.”

  “You left me alone on earth without any way to protect myself,” she accused.

  “You’re a royal.” He snorted. “You were a bloodthirsty thing even then. You didn’t need my help, and you were far safer on earth. Even after your mother’s death, the threat was still real, but we couldn’t find out who was plotting against us.”

  “Until the bindings on my powers began to weaken.”

  The king rubbed his brow. “By then I had other matters to handle.”

  Protecting his son.

  “Before an alarm could even be raised, you took care of the matter all by yourself.”

  “I was nearly killed in the process,” she snapped.

  “Yet you survived.” The king’s chest puffed up like a proud father.

  “You didn’t say anything then. You didn’t come forward because you wanted people to believe I was your lost heir.” He left her alone and exposed to protect his son. While she wanted to blame him, she really couldn’t. She, too, would do whatever it took to protect those she considered family.

  “Very well.” The king gave her and Shade a nod. “Your requests are granted.

  Before she could react, he reached out and touched a single fingertip to her forehead. The spinning universe at her center exploded outward in a shower of stars, sparks lighting up the darkness. Morgan flew backwards, then fell on her ass.

  The universe began to spin with her at the center, everything drawing closer and closer, until the sparkling solar dust began to soak into her skin, and the darkness swallowed her whole.

  The last things she saw were they guys kicking in the doorway to get to her.

  Then everything went dark.

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Morgan awoke to the sound of shouting.

  Creative curses and murder threats to be precise.

  She cracked open her eyes, then winced as the light nearly blinded her. The gardog noticed her first, scooting up from where he was snuggled up against her legs and rested his large head against her chest so he could lick her chin.

  “Loki.” She shoved away his questing tongue while his whole body wiggled with delight. Despite her enhanced strength, she could barely budge him.

  “Come here, you overgrown rock garden.” Harper and her berserker mate Kalvin hauled the large hound aside, the pup fighting and scrambling against the floor to get back to her the whole time.

  “Shut up, everyone.” Stanley snarled with his usual charm, his whiskers twitching from where he lay curled up at her hip. “You’re disturbing Morgan.”

  The voices fell silent, like someone had pressed a mute button, and she reluctantly opened her eyes to find the room crowded with people. The guys rushed toward her in a flurry of movement. Morgan didn’t bother to get up, her body feeling too liquid for bones. She winced at the size of the crowd, and tried to smile. “Hey, everybody, what’s up?”

  Kincade knelt down beside her, gently brushing the hair away from her face. “What’s the last thing you remember?”

  She cast her mind back, but only saw darkness. She concentrated harder, knowing she was missing something important, something she needed to tell the guys.

  Then everything came rushing back with the speed of a brain freeze after eating too much ice cream. Her head exploded in pain as images flashed through her mind, and she bolted upright as the memories returned. “The king!”

  She patted down her body, then grabbed the hand Kincade extended, clutching it to her chest. “I’m not dead?”

  Draven groaned like he was being tortured, and she turned to find him sitting with his head in his hands, his long hair practically standing up on end. Ryder was next to him, and the wolf gave him a shove, sending him sliding across the floor toward her feet until he ended up on all fours, his face only a foot away.

  “Hey.”

  “Hey,” he croaked back.

  She reached out and smoothed his hair down, only to have it spring back up into place. “What happened?”

  His stormy, greenish-blue eyes churned as he turned to glare at Shade and Ward. “They nearly got you killed.”

  She followed his line of sight to see Ward and Shade looking slightly the worse for wear, standing at the other end of the room, as far away from her as they could get without leaving the dorm. Panic began to surge in her chest when she didn’t see her cousin. “Where’s Dunarius?”

  “He will be returned to you tomorrow after the trial,” Shade reassured her. He took a careful step into the room, then pulled out the nearest chair and took a seat. “I’m sorry. I—”

  “Don’t. You did what you thought best.” She lifted her hand to stop him. She didn’t like seeing him submissive. It didn’t look natural on him. “My powers would’ve returned eventually. You just sped up the process a bit. I have a feeling we’ll need them before the night is over.”

  She refused to believe he would harm her just so he could have his powers back.

  His safety depended on hers.

  He wouldn’t risk his life, risk returning to Tartarus, just to have his magic return to full capacity.

  “How do you feel?” Ward asked softly, his silver eyes having trouble remaining solid. His pupils would expand, revealing silver specks moving in their depths as he struggled with his emotions, and then contract again.

  Answering for her, the necklace warmed and melted down. She got a glimpse of a broken sphere before it twisted and spun into a classic Celtic Knot…loyalty, faith, friendship and love…everything her new family meant to her.

  “Okay, I think.” Morgan didn’t want to delve too deeply into the question, not until she had a few minutes alone to judge for herself. She held out her hand. “Get me up.”

  Ward grabbed it automatically. Kincade, who was already holding onto the other, rose, and both of them hauled her to her feet. She wobbled precariously, a wave of dizziness making the room dip and sway, like her insides were sloshing about trying to settle.

  Before she could get her bearings, a series of Viking horns echoed in the air. “Again? Seriously?”

  But Kincade shook his head. “That’s not one of ours.”

  Meaning the Academy didn’t send up the alarm.

  The guys headed for the bathroom, silently racing up the ladder.

  As the others left, Ward tightened his grip on her hand until she glanced up at him. “You must be careful not to use your magic. Until you’re fully trained, it can be very dangerous. Some magic is irrevocable once unleashed.”

  “Morgan?” Ryder waited for her by the door, his eyes locked on the
way Ward had yet to release her arm.

  Ward blinked in surprise, then hastily dropped his hold. Silver specks flickered in and out of existence in his eyes, and she realized he was speaking from experience, possibly why he’d been locked into the void in the first place—the warden of the prison, now one of its inmates.

  Ryder ushered her forward, grabbing her hips and lifting her four feet up the ladder without a hint of strain, and she suspected that he would remain leery of letting her out of his sight for quite a while.

  When they reached the rooftop, a yawning pit opened up in her stomach.

  The sun was setting.

  Everyone stood at the edges of the roof, overlooking the Academy grounds.

  No one was moving.

  Morgan glanced at Ryder, concerned about the absolute stillness. It wasn’t a spell. Whatever they were watching captured their complete attention.

  Ryder’s whisky brown eyes were dark with the knowledge that another battle had found them.

  “Ready?” She squeezed his hand.

  In response, he smiled and tugged her forward. For a second her feet didn’t seem to know what to do, his smile so rare it left her dazzled.

  When they reached the others, she understood what held them in shock. Standing in the front of the Academy was the sea queen. Behind her was a portal the size of a semitrailer, a passageway to a different dimension.

  “Vikings?” Only they looked wrong…like they were a thousand years old. Most of the men were over seven feet tall, resembling small giants. They wore animal skins and leather, a third of them wearing large metal helmets. Their skin was severely weathered, a combination of blues and greys, their eyes blazing an eerie emerald green. Their hair and beards were scraggily, matted with dirt and caked with blood.

  If that wasn’t convincing enough, the breeze carried with it the sharp stench of decay. The bodies were all sinew and bones, their skin resembled leather, its very own impenetrable hide.

  More horns blared, and she watched as the ground began to churn. Arms thrust through the dirt, then bodies began to pull themselves out of the ground as easily as if they were swimming under the earth.

 

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