by Smith, H. D.
“He’s mine next,” she hissed.
“I don’t want him,” I blurted.
Mace’s expression darkened. Was he actually surprised I didn’t want him?
“Everyone wants him,” she argued.
“Everyone else, maybe. Not me.”
Mace’s mouth pinched together. He had the ability to know when someone was lying. I wasn’t lying, and for some reason that seemed to piss him off.
“Tell her, please,” I urged, but he kept his mouth closed
She growled, “You know you want him too.”
For the love of God, could she be more delusional? “Please, Mace.”
His eyes never left mine. He was enjoying this. In a low silky voice, he said, “Leah, she’s like family.”
I was so not like family, but I wasn’t about to argue that point.
“Leah,” he barked when she didn’t react.
With a petulant groan Leah shoved me forward. Off balance, I stumbled. In a blur of motion, Mace stood and caught me. He spun me around so I was facing away from him. Trapping my arm between our bodies, he held me close with his suffocating embrace. “Did you miss me, Claire?” he cooed in my ear.
I sucked in air to keep from snorting. One, because this was Mace, and although he was being a bit touchy-feely right now, he was an ass, and two, he could hurt me if he really wanted to.
With his nose in my hair, he inhaled deeply before putting a light kiss on my cheek. “Have you come to play?” he asked then kissed me again.
“No.” I cringed when he drew my earlobe into his mouth. “I came to help you. That’s all. I swear.”
“I’d rather play.”
Oh, god no. Lovey-dovey Mace was really starting to piss me off. With a firm tone, I said, “You’re in danger.”
He wasn’t under the spell, but maybe he was next. I could warn him, and he wouldn’t get trapped. If only he would listen. He swayed our bodies back and forth as if we were slow dancing. He either didn’t care or he didn’t believe me.
“Look at me and you’ll know I’m telling the truth,” I insisted.
He stopped and spun me around to face him. His lips were pressed into a firm line. He’d gone from playful to pissed in a heartbeat. “Speak.”
Assuming he wouldn’t placate me long, I blurted everything out quickly. “Cinnamon was trapped in Purgatory. Sage was at his apartment, but not himself. Sorrel is missing. I thought you might be trapped too.”
I gasped when Mace yanked me forward. His hands tightened around my arms. His jaw was clenched, and his violet eyes were somehow lighter—more threatening.
“I—” My voice cracked. I swallowed, trying to ignore the lump in my throat. He wouldn’t hurt me like before. He wouldn’t go back on his word to the king. “Mace,” I stammered, not sure what to say.
All eyes in the room were on us. The pagans glared at me. Leah—the woman who’d grabbed me—licked her lips. Were they just going to watch him hurt me? She smiled, then leaned over to whisper to the girl on her left. The woman behind her shifted to hide, but not before I saw her.
Indigo. She wore a tropical sarong over a colorful bikini, like the others, but it was her. She was the one veiled. The one I’d sensed when I walked in. The veil had no effect on me—not since my trip to Purgatory, but Mace and the others would see her as a pagan. I breathed a sigh of relief. Mace would have to believe me now. He couldn’t ignore a veiled demon in his harem of pagans.
I moistened my dry lips and looked at Indigo. “Demon,” I accused.
Mace followed the path of my gaze. He snarled at her before shoving me to the ground and stalking toward her. The other pagans scattered, disappearing one by one. Indigo turned to run, but he stopped her with his will.
I pushed to my feet, intent on getting to the door while he was busy with her. At this point, I didn’t care if Mace was in danger. Hell, I was in danger.
Mace had other plans. He threw his will, tripping me. “Stay,” he commanded.
Indigo yelped.
“Show yourself,” he yelled.
I sensed her release her veil as I launched toward the door again. A loud thump sounded behind me just before I was yanked backward by his will. I braced myself for the impact. As I slammed into the wall, my breath was knocked out of me. Wheezing I peered down. Indigo was crumpled, unconscious, on the floor at my feet.
“You aren’t getting away from me that easily,” Mace said. “Not after what you’ve done.”
After what I’ve done? He was acting as if I’d come here to kill him not save him. “I was just trying to help. I told you about the demon.”
He barked out a short laugh. “Do you really think I didn’t know about her?”
If he knew about her, then why didn’t he get rid of her? Why did he keep her around? “I have important business for your father—”
Mace’s violet eyes widened. “You’re lying, Claire,” he said through gritted teeth.
Oh, crap. “You promised him you wouldn’t do this again.”
His smile faded, and his eyes narrowed. “Did he send you here?”
“Ye—” I started to say yes, but my words were cut off as he wrapped his will around me and squeezed. He’d seen through the lie before it was off my tongue.
He leaned in, pushing my body against the wall. “You came to me willingly, not as my father’s servant.” His cocked eyebrow sent a shiver down my spine. Mace twined his hand in my hair. “All bets are off now, little girl.”
I gasped as he pressed our bodies closer together. “No. Please. I won’t tell your father. I promise. Just let me go.”
“How do you know you won’t like it?” he asked, rubbing against me. “Father has been keeping you away from me,” he said, trailing light kisses down my neck. “You came to me willingly.” He inhaled deeply, as if my scent were an elixir. “You’re mine now.”
“No—”
He cupped my face in his hands. Lifting my chin, he kissed me on the lips. I tried to pull away, but his firm grip prevented it. I gasped when his hand snaked under the hem of my shirt, which allowed him to push his tongue into my mouth. Turning my head, I slid away as he bent forward to deepen the kiss. Undeterred he returned his warm lips to my neck.
I wanted to scream in frustration. His touch was setting me on fire, but I shouldn’t be feeling anything. I didn’t love Mace. I hated him, but his hands roved over my body caressing and stroking as if we were lovers. I cried out as he bit on my neck then licked over the spot.
“Stop,” I demanded, and he froze.
A guttural rumble came from his throat.
“Master,” the butler called from behind him, breaking the tension
Mace pushed away from me. My legs like jelly, I slid down the wall, trying to catch my breath.
He glared at the butler. “What,” he barked.
“Your message has been sent,” the butler said, bowing his head.
“Shit,” Mace said, glancing back at me. Through gritted teeth, he said, “Collins, you are nothing if not efficient.”
“Thank you, sir,” Collins said with a slight nod.
I started to lift myself off the floor.
Mace pushed me back down with his will. “Sit, stay,” he chided, as if I were his pet.
Collins spoke again. “What shall I do with Miss Lily?”
Mace’s attention swiveled back to the butler. “Take her below to the basement.”
Collins nodded.
Mace turned back to me. “And prepare a circle of salt for Claire.”
I opened my mouth, but Mace tightened his will, keeping me quiet.
Although Collins appeared quite old, he easily bent down and scooped up Indigo—Lily’s—unconscious form. He threw her limp body over his shoulder and carried her toward a blank wall on the far side of the room. He tapped it three times, and a door appeared. A portal…of course. Beach houses didn’t have basements.
Mace stared at me for a long minute, then sighed. “This is a royal fucking mess,”
he said, more at me than to me. He squeezed the back of his neck and paced the room.
My body was stiff from the tight hold of his will. I cleared my throat.
His head whipped around. Cocking an eyebrow and actually snapping his finger, he said, “I know just the thing for you. Don’t go away.”
As if I could go anywhere right now. I couldn’t even move.
Five minutes later, Mace returned. His cocky expression, with his almost-smile, unnerved me. He was spinning two small metal bands around his finger. He clasped them in his hand, stopping their spin, then fanned them out as if showing me something cool. Crouching down he pulled one of my hands to his lips for a light kiss. I had to stop myself from rolling my eyes.
With quick efficiency, he clicked the thin delicate bands on my wrists. A tingle of sensation washed over me as the last bracelet closed. He chanted, a low murmuring unintelligible sound. I sucked in a quick breath as the metal resized to conform to each wrist, melding against my skin perfectly. A surge of energy enveloped my hands as the bands settled into place.
Mace pulled me to my feet. He tilted my head up to kiss me. I pushed him away.
“Ouch,” I said as a powerful shock surged up my arm. I jerked my hand away. “What was that for?”
His mouth turned into a mischievous grin. “I can’t have you going around touching people. Can I?”
I rung out my hand. The pain was dissipating to a dull throb, but I still had chills from the contact. I studied the bracelet. “Seriously? That will happen anytime I touch someone?”
He stifled a quiet chuckle.
“I’m sorry I touched you without permission, but don’t you think this is a bit extreme?”
He tapped me on the nose like I was a spoiled child then pulled me toward the basement stairs.
The basement was nothing more than a concrete box. Probably no more than fifteen-foot square. Half of the room looked as though a graffiti artist had tagged it while on crack. It was painted with hundreds of black and gold markings that covered the floor, walls, and ceiling. The other half was just bare gray cinder blocks and concrete—a stark contrast from its gilded neighbor.
Some of the markings were in the same Ancient script as the Devil’s brand on my arm. Others resembled Egyptian hieroglyphics. I had no clue what any of the symbols meant.
Collins was in the painted half of the room, creating a circle of salt. Lily’s unconscious body was lying outside the circle but inside the painted half.
“Will there be anything else, sir?” Collins asked, once the circle was complete.
“No, you may go,” Mace said.
As soon as we were alone, he started chanting. The melodious words could have been a song, but it was nothing the translator recognized. He was casting a spell in the Ancient language. I took an involuntary step back when a ripple of light pulsed through the markings causing them to flare and glow. Mace pulled me forward as the salt ring flashed red, and the glow from the room rippled around it. He spun me and pushed me through the threshold of the warded room. A pop sounded as his hands passed through the invisible wall. The glow faded when his chant ended.
I rubbed my arms. The room had become noticeably colder, dropping several degrees within seconds. “Why are you doing this?”
Ignoring my question, he said, “Stay inside the circle. It will protect you.” With his hands in his pockets, he turned on his heels to leave.
“Wait, you can’t just leave me down here.”
He pivoted to face me. “Would you rather come upstairs to my bed?”
My mouth dropped open. It took me a moment, then I said, “No.”
He grinned, as if he knew I was lying.
I shook away the memory of his hands on my body. Damn pagans and their sex on legs appeal.
“Don’t try to leave,” he warned. “The barrier won’t let you pass. It will knock you unconscious if you try.”
“The Boss—”
“You came here of your own free will, Claire. I won’t be denied. You’re mine now, and I intend to keep you.”
I stood there gaping. Was he serious?
Before words could return to me, he said, “Now I’m off to fix the mess you’ve made. We’ll settle up later, and finish the little game we started upstairs.”
Ten
The basement was completely dark. Mace had switched off the lights on his way out. I sat in the circle of salt, my legs crossed to be sure I was fully inside it.
Salt magic was old and powerful. I had no idea how it worked. But it would protect me as intended, which meant it would keep me safely out of Lily’s reach for as long as Mace wanted it to, or until he broke the salt line.
I could hear the low moans and whimpers of Lily’s fitful sleep. She would be awake soon. I closed my eyes and stepped outside my body. The symbols and markings glowed a bright green illuminating the darkened room.
The threshold that separated the painted half from the rest of the basement resembled a green wall of steel, with a transparent shimmer rippling over it like a wave in a pond. A faint blue halo circled one of the bricks on the far wall. I hurried forward to investigate, but my presence slammed into the barrier. I attempted to blink to the other side, but that didn’t work either. The halo disappeared moments later.
Frustrated, I stomped back to my body, ready to open my eyes. I stopped when I realized my physical form was bathed in white light. The salt circle protected me from the sickly green cast surrounding everything else, including Lily. Every square inch of the enclosure was marked or covered by the green glow that connected all the symbols. My presence was trapped by the markings as surely as my body was trapped by the threshold.
Thinking back, I remembered how the pulse activated the enclosure, sealing it off completely. I peered at my body, thinking about the wave and how it wrapped around the circle. The salt protected it. I studied the floor closely. The markings under the circle weren’t glowing. The salt prevented them from connecting to the other symbols.
Maybe it was my way out.
I jumped into the circle, basically standing on top of my body, which was weird. I thought of the main room upstairs. The one I’d been in with Mace. Instantly I blinked to that location.
The living room was empty. I stilled for a moment and listened. His voice drifted from one of the upstairs rooms. I followed the sound and found him in an office. The tropical theme had missed this room. It was an ultra-modern example of cold glass and steel. The only color in the marshmallow white room came from a large abstract painting. The vibrant red was splashed against the canvas as if it were a study in splatter patterns.
Mace was on the phone. Pacing. “Sin, we will figure out who did this. They will pay.”
There was a pause. I moved closer, but I couldn’t hear Cinnamon’s voice through the phone.
“Quit screwing around and bring the demon here. I’ll get him to talk, then you can kill him.” Mace’s neck corded as she spoke again. His tone was strained when he responded, “Yes, she’s here. No, I don’t know how she discovered you.”
He ran his hand through his hair, scratching the back of his head. “Yes, the twins are on their way. Sorrel isn’t well...” He paused.
Sorrel had been found. Good. I couldn’t complete Omar’s task without seeing them all. Of course getting away from Mace was going to be a challenge.
He sighed. “I agree. She can fix him— We’ll figure this out together.”
The desperation in his voice caught my attention. Why was he so adamant she come?
The twins were already on their way. “Why did he need Cinnamon?” I muttered.
“Because we’re stronger as one,” he snapped, and for a minute I thought he was answering my question. Running his hand through his hair, he sighed. “Look, no, I mean yes, you must join us.” He took another turn around the room, holding the back of his neck, waiting for her answer. After several tense seconds, he dropped his hand, and his rigid stance relaxed a fraction. His lips curved in his usual smirk. “
Excellent. I’ll see you then.”
Cinnamon was coming, and she was bringing Charles.
I jumped when a pagan woman materialized in the office. She was beautiful—of course—her skin pale and flawless. She had blonde hair so light and translucent it was almost white. It appeared as fine as silk, and flowed down her back in long cascading waves. She was as tall as Mace’s six-foot-five frame. I dropped my gaze to see if she was wearing heels, but her airy dress covered her feet. Mace’s posture stiffened in her presence.
“Nephew, how are you?” she asked.
Nephew? Obviously from his mother’s side of the family.
Mace bowed his head, but his shoulders remained tense. “Hello, Aunt. You look well.” His greeting was formal. Was he afraid of her?
“I received your message.” Her voice was delicate and melodic, but their tense postures made it clear the situation was painfully strained.
Mace’s head remained lowered. The muscles in his neck flexed. “I apologize for sending it, but the situation has changed. The others will be here soon.”
Her smile faded. Through gritted teeth, she asked, “What has caused this change?”
As if he were considering his words carefully, he paused then said, “Claire, Father’s assistant. She’s involved—I don’t know how, but she woke them.” He swallowed, then added in a pleading tone, “I’m afraid it hasn’t been enough time. They won’t cooperate willingly.”
The aunt’s arched eyebrow relaxed. A wicked grin crossed her face, which, for some reason, sent a chill down my spine. She ambled forward and lifted his chin. His eyes were still wide with fear, but softened a bit at her smile.
“She was in Purgatory?”
Mace opened his mouth to respond.
Without thinking I yelled, “Don’t tell her anything!”
He closed his mouth. As if he’d heard me, his eyes darted around the room.
The aunt swiveled her head to look in my direction. I gasped when her eyes met mine. Her smile widened. Oh, shit. She could sense me.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” she said, more to me than Mace.