by Isa Fae
The cell he was contained in gave him plenty of room to move, but the lack of a bed or a toilet told him this place wasn’t a permeant holding area. It was only meant to hold someone for a short period of time. Then what?
Past the metal bars, the room outside the cage wasn’t very big either. There were no windows, and the door leading out seemed to be made from steel. Eric wondered if he was still inside the mansion somewhere. If so, the Lord was even sicker than he originally thought. Could this place be where he confined all his secrets when he harmed his own kind? Miranda did say she’d witnessed him killing not only witches, but any Fae who went against him as well. He was the only Fae she’d trusted enough to tell that secret to. And he didn’t blame her. He even doubted her words at first. But now Eric knew what that sick man was capable of.
The sound of the door unlatching piqued his attention, causing him to direct his eyes to the woman in red who stepped in. Matryx turned around, shutting the door behind her.
He didn’t say a word as his anger and rage boiled up inside of him. She walked over the floor, her heels clicking the concrete as she moved past him, making her way over to a corner with three folding chairs stacked against the wall.
Pulling one away, she came back in his direction and stopped just short of the cage, unfolding the metal chair and sitting down. She crossed one leg over the other, her gaze finally coming up to meet him. He couldn’t ignore her scratches, her cut lip, or her blackened eye. Eric hoped whoever did that to her caused her a great amount of pain. He was jealous because someone got to her before he did.
“Eric.” She bounced her leg up and down, hands folded in her lap. She’d looked like she was about to conduct an interview. “I’ve spoken to the Lord.” Her voice was smooth and confident, as if what she was about to say would change the relationship between the two of them. “He has agreed to give you one more chance. I don’t usually tolerate betrayal, Eric. You know that. And the Eric I knew never did either.”
“I’m still the same person, Matryx. Now, say what you have to say and get out.”
She stood up and began pacing in front of the cage. Then she swung around. “Seriously, what happened to you? You were sent on a mission and ended shacking up with a witch in a Renegade shelter. What the hell did I miss?” She threw her hands up. “I know you better than anyone, Eric. Spent years working with you in the Division. You hated witches with a passion. Despised the sleazy creatures for what they did to your parents. What the hell happened? Did she put some kind of spell on you?”
Eric laughed at her accusation. “No, Matryx. No spell. She showed me the truth. Told me things that I witnessed with my own eyes only moments ago. You know, before one of my own bashed me on the back of the head.” He finally stood up and walked as close to the bars as he could. “Now, tell me who has betrayed who here?”
“Don’t you spin this shit around, Winters. We wouldn’t have had to do that if you would have cooperated.” She rested her hands on her hips. “Besides, you betrayed the Division the moment I called you and you refused to tell me you had located her and you were stranded in that cabin, and you know it.” She tightened her lips and glared. “But, no, you sent my follow up calls to voicemail because you were too busy fornicating with the enemy.”
“Fornicating? Who the hell says that?” He shook his head becoming more and more agitated with every word from her lips. But he knew exactly how to get to her. “Just say it, Matryx. I was fucking her!”
Her face twisted into something ugly and sinister, hands pumping into fists at her sides.
“But you can’t say it, can you?” He narrowed his eyes, challenging hers with his own. She was all talk on the other side of the bars. But she didn’t have the guts to step into the cage. “You can’t say it because you are jealous of Miranda Sage.”
“Jealous?” She snorted, stepping closer. “You honestly think I’d be jealous of a witch? A servant no less?”
“Yes, Matryx.” He smirked. “You are. Because she has something you can never have. My fucking heart.”
“You don’t have a heart, Eric Winters.” She sneered back at him. “And pretty soon you won’t have a witch. The sarcastic bitch thought she could go head to head with me after the Lord drained most of her magic.” She bit the inside of her cheek and shook her head. “I’ll be surprised if she stays alive long enough for the Lord to return to her.”
Lava flowed into his veins as he jerked his arms up, grasping his hair on either side of his head as he growled. “If anything happens to her, I swear, Matryx, I will fucking kill you with my bare hands.”
Matryx laughed this time. “Kind of hard since you’re in there and I’m out here.” She spun around and walked to the door, opening it and stepping out. “I’ll let the Lord know you refused his offer. Maybe, he’ll let us burn your bodies together. If you’re lucky.”
The door slammed behind her and Eric went into a rage. He needed to get out of this cage and back to Miranda. He could care less if the Lord and the entire Division were after him, he’d take all of them down if he had to in order to keep her safe.
“Damn you, Matryx!” He dropped to his knees, pounding the concrete with his fists. She’d be the first on his fucking list.
48
Miranda
Miranda’s arms were stretched high above her head, her wrists confined in something metal. Her legs were restrained too. By something cold and hard around her ankles. As much as she wanted to figure out what the hell was going on, she couldn’t. Her eyes were swollen shut, and she was forced to stay in the darkness. Miranda had taken a beating from Matryx. But even though almost all her energy was drained from the Lord, she’d thought she put up a good fight. None of that was helping her now. The injuries she sustained were making it longer for her to heal.
She heard the door click in front of her. And then a gasp.
“Milady! Is that you?”
Ronan. Fear wrapped around her insides at the sound of his voice. He shouldn’t be here. She wondered if Tessa failed to get everyone out. That was the only reason for him being in this room right now. “Ronan, what are you doing here?”
“I was looking for you.” The sound of his voice got closer and closer. “Tessa told me you were here. She tried to drag me out, Milady. But I couldn’t go. Not knowing you were inside the mansion. Here, let me help you.”
Miranda felt his hand touch her, his Fae magic pressing into her. “No, Ronan. Please stop.” The urgency in her voice made his touch disappear. “You need to save your magic. I need you to go out the back door and make your way through the forest. There’s a cabin there. Find Tessa and stay with her.”
“No,” he said defiantly, his small voice holding firm close to her face.
Miranda had only witnessed Ronan like this once before. That was the day he tried to keep her from going upstairs to Sarah and the Lord. And that was mellow compared to this. “Ronan, I won’t tell you again.”
“Then don’t, Milady. I’m not leaving you here chained to the wall so the Lord can come back for you. I lost you once and I won’t lose you again.”
She felt his touch again. This time over her eyes. The warmth of his magic absorbed into her skin, and before long, the room came into vision. Ronan stood on his tippy toes in front of her, his face growing pale. “Stop it! Right now!” As a young Fae, she feared he wouldn’t know when to stop. And when he finally would stop, it would be too late.
“I need to get you out of here.” His big, brown eyes looked up at her. “The Lord could come back at any minute.”
“Ronan, it’s no use. You don’t have enough magic to free me.” She attempted to move her arms, but pain shot through every one of her muscles. She was sure her ribs were broken again. Glancing down at her crimson-stained dress, she never realized her body contained so much blood. She couldn’t imagine how she looked to Ronan. Now she knew why the young Fae was so desperate to get her out of here. “Eric. You need to go find Eric.” She drew in a deep breath, trying to focu
s away from the pain coursing through her. “They took him away.”
“Eric?” He lifted an eyebrow to her and swayed on his feet, a sign she had been right. He did use too much energy.
“He’s a hunter, Ronan. The one the Lord sent to track me down. But he’s on my side.” She closed her eyes faintly remembering what the Lord had said to the hunters earlier when he walked past Eric. “Check the holding area. That was where Mason told them to take him.” She struggled for another breath, wishing her magic would hurry up and heal her. “He’ll know what to do.”
Ronan stared at her for a moment, glassy-eyed and fingers fidgeting with the loose material of his pants, as if he were contemplating on leaving or sticking around.
Miranda didn’t have time for this. “Ronan, now! You need to get to him before it’s too late.”
The boy blinked twice, snapping out of any thoughts he was lost in. “I’ll be right back, Milady.” With that, he turned and rushed out the door, his gait still a little unsteady.
Miranda lifted her head and examined the shackles keeping her arms stretched above her in an uncomfortable manner. The metal cuffs were hard and tight against her wrists. She’d had no idea who had put them on her or why the Lord wanted her restrained this way. Sure, she knew he feared her power, but he’d drained a majority of her magic. Unless, Matryx had mentioned something to him about her fighting back.
Heavy footsteps sounded down the hall, causing Miranda to draw in a deep breath. She focused on the door Ronan had left open in his urgency to go get Eric. She knew it wasn’t them. The Lord wouldn’t have placed Eric so close to her. No. He was deep under the mansion. A place where Mason tortured and then executed those who he felt threatened him.
Mason stepped into the doorway and stopped. His black eyes focused entirely on her, acknowledging her hanging in front of him. A condescending sneer curled his lip, the evil and the depravity radiated out from him. His dark energy was heavy, pressing down on Miranda and causing a dull ache inside her stomach.
As he slowly strutted through the doorway, his taunting manner galling her. Miranda wished all her powers would come back to her. She’d free herself from the shackles and rid the faction of this evil man. She’d be doing everyone a favor.
Stopping in front of her, Mason cupped a hand under her chin and lifted her face, forcing her to look at him. “You’ve been very naughty, Miranda. Made me sacrifice my only son to try to keep a hold of you.”
Her body went rigid. The Lord’s only son was Huffington.
“You seem surprised by that.” Mason grinned. “While you may think you killed Huffington, I have to take the blame. I was at the top of the stairs that day.” He shrugged like it was no big deal. “He got in my way. That magic was meant for you.”
Miranda struggled to grasp his words. But part of it did make sense. Millenia and the Renegade witches who were struck down by Miranda’s hands were reduced to only ashes. Huffington had remained whole, bloodied body falling to the floor. A sense of relief swirled around inside of her. She hadn’t killed him.
Then the realization struck her. She glared at the Lord. “You bastard. You killed your own son?” The thought sickened her, causing the acid to rise in her stomach. “You’re more of a monster than I thought you were.”
The Lord laughed at her words. “No, my dear. You haven’t seen anything yet.”
He raised his arms up, placing his hands over the metal cuffs and releasing them. Miranda dropped to the floor. And Mason hovered over her. His sickness twisted in his expression. For once, Miranda did fear him. But it wasn’t her life she feared. She feared for everyone within the faction who was controlled by this vile, sadistic man. “Fuck you, Mason.” The words hissed through her clenched teeth.
He laughed again as he reached down, grasping her by the front of her dress and hoisting her to her feet. “You will not speak to me in that manner, Miranda Sage. Have we not been over this before?”
“You were an ass then and you’re still one now. Nothing has changed between us.” She spat the words, her anger causing her defiance to him to spark up inside of her again.
Mason grinned and shoved her back into the wall behind her with such force she had to close her eyes to hide the pain from him. The man didn’t deserve to have the satisfaction of seeing her weakness. “I own you, Miranda, and it’s about time you realize that.”
“No, Mason.” She shook her head, a faint smile making its way to her lips. “Eric Winters owns me. He claimed me when we were stranded in the cabin. I guess you sent the wrong hunter to track me.” Miranda knew she shouldn’t be provoking him before her powers fully restored. But he’d opened himself up to it.
His face twisted into something ugly and sinister, black eyes swirling with madness. Mason’s hand came up to her face. He traced his thumb over her cheek. “Pure or tainted. I’ll just have to take you back.”
Miranda knew he meant every word. The Lord would take her back. Try to reclaim her and then break her. And right now, she really was terrified because she was too weak to fight back. Mason knew he had her in the palm of his hand. Trapped. She was trapped like an animal with no way out or even the possibility of escaping his madness. Her battle was over, and it was only then she had realized she’d never actually had a chance against him in the first place. Shutting down to everything around her was her only option. And that was what she did. Miranda Sage closed herself off to the world with no intentions of ever returning. “Please forgive me, Eric,” she whispered as she closed her eyes to the darkness.
49
Eric
Eric sat on the cold floor, his knuckles bloody and bruised. A feeling of hopelessness surrounded him. The thoughts of what could be happening to Miranda haunted his mind, creating an anger inside of him that pressed for release. Mason Manchester being the target. He thought of ways he could destroy him. Wrapping his hand around the evil bastard’s throat and squeezing the life out of him wouldn’t be good enough. No. He wouldn’t let him off that easy for all the things he’d done to Miranda.
“Mister.”
He was so out of it he’d even thought he’d heard the voice of a child. Now he knew he was losing his mind.
“Mister.”
The voice came again. He slowly turned his head and a familiar face stared back at him from behind the bars. Ronan. Eric jumped to his feet and got as close to the bars as he could. “Ronan, where’s Miranda?”
“Milady sent me to find you. She wouldn’t let me help heal her wounds.”
The boy rambled the words so fast it was hard to keep up. But if she sent the boy to find him, it meant she was still alive. That was all Eric needed to know. “Get me out of here!”
The boy ran away from the cage and headed to the wall. Opening a gray box, he stuck his hand in. The bars surrounding Eric lifted in the air. He rolled out of the cage as soon as the gap was wide enough. “Where is she?” He stood up as the boy ran back to him.
“Upstairs,” the boy panted. “She looked really bad and I didn’t want to leave her. But she made me.” The boy continued to talk as Eric followed him out of the room. “I have no idea when the Lord will be back.”
Eric stayed behind Ronan as they continued up a narrow staircase. When they reached the top, they were on the main floor. The mansion was quiet, which meant the ball was more than likely over. The only thing he didn’t notice on the way to the second set of stairs was hunters. Not even a soul guarding the front doors. He had no idea why the Lord would have sent them away if he and Miranda were still in the house. It didn’t make sense to him, but he didn’t have time to dwell on it. His main goal was to locate Miranda.
Ronan took the steps of the grand staircase two at a time in a rush to clear the stairwell. Eric close behind him. When they reached the top, they raced around the second floor until Ronan stopped dead in his tracks in front of an open door. He slowly backed away, knocking into the front of Eric. He took the boy’s shaking shoulders in his hands. “We’re, we’re too late.” Th
e dread in his voice made Eric’s heart drop into his stomach.
Too late? What did he mean? No. Miranda can’t be dead. Pushing the young boy to the side, Eric entered the room in three long strides. Rage. A fire of great intensity soared inside of him as he saw Miranda on the floor, the Lord over top of her, draining what energy she had left. Her legs were unmoving from under his body, and the bottom of her dress was hiked up. Eric charged in their direction, his nostrils flaring and his face burning from the intense heat.
When he reached Mason, he grabbed him and yanked him off Miranda, tossing him across the room and against the wall in a fury. His eyes dropped to her bloody face, and he took in the rest of her twisted, mangled body. “Miranda.” He crouched down, sliding one arm underneath her neck, his muscles twitching from the fear of losing her. “Can you hear me, love?”
“E-eric.” Her voice was a faint whisper. And she drew in a shallow, rigid breath. Alive. Miranda Sage was still alive. Which meant there was still hope.
“Hold on, baby.” Tears threatened the corners of his eyes. “I’m going to get you out of here.” He slid his other arm under the back of her knees, but before he had a chance to lift her, Mason’s sinister laugh stopped him.
Eric turned around. Mason stood on the far side of the room, holding Ronan in his arms. The poor boy’s eyes were wide and his face had gone pale. “I put my trust in you, Winters,” he snarled. “And you betrayed me. I should have just done everything myself in the first place. First, I’ll off the boy since he means so much to Miranda. Then I’ll take care of you while she watches. The other hunters, the loyal ones, are already on their way to take care of the servants who escaped. So, then, it’ll only be me and her. And by then she will be begging for my mercy.” The edges of his lips came up into a smile as his gaze shifted to Miranda.