Seacursed: The Mage Circle Trilogy: 1

by L. A. McGinnis

  Now tears silvered those big, dark eyes of hers. Lucas jammed his hands in his pockets to keep himself from wiping them away.

  “I’m sorry it became more on your end. I knew it and I just… I knew it and I didn’t stop. I realized what was happening, but I didn’t want to hurt you, hoping it would just fizzle out, or maybe you’d find someone else eventually. I didn’t want any pain, not for you. Not ever. Because I didn’t want to hurt you, I just let it…go on.”

  Alexis stepped back, shaking her head, as if that might make the words—and the truth—stop. “But if you knew…” Her voice broke. “If you knew how I felt, then why didn’t you ever say anything? Why did you pretend everything was okay, and we were heading somewhere? Instead of just having fun?”

  “Because I love you. As a friend. And I liked seeing you happy, because you are my friend. And because for these past couple of years, all of this between us has worked.”

  She began to sob.

  “Except it worked because I’m selfish and I didn’t realize how hard you were falling for me. And I am so sorry, Lexi.”

  “Goddamn it, Lucas.” She shoved him away. “Why do you have to be so fucking nice? Even when you’re breaking my heart? You are a total asshole.” She took a breath. “What about the blonde? The fucking Tracker? What about her?”

  “It’s all complicated, Lex.”

  “Yeah?” She snorted. “Well, fuck you both. I’ve known you for years, Luc. Years. She’s known you for, what? A couple of days?” Another snort. “Nothing like rubbing my face in it, Luc.” She looked as if she was about to start crying again, once the anger faded away, so she spun away, limbs loose and sloppy, back toward the door Cole held open for her, a hard, dangerous look on his face as he contemplated Lucas.

  As soon as Alexis slid inside, Cole slammed the door shut, then sauntered over, his face promising death. Maybe something even worse. “You really are an asshole, you know that?” The big guy growled, his stroll quickly turning into a stalk. “She’s been worried sick for days, you fucker. Last time she saw you, you were half dead, because of that little blonde bitch in the car. And now you’re, what? Hooking up with her? Lexi’s had your back for centuries. That kind of loyalty doesn’t just vanish overnight.” Cole’s dark eyes flashed red as he bared his teeth and growled, “Oh, wait, maybe it does.”

  By the time Cole reached the other Hummer, the back of his shirt was straining under the steadily increasing breadth of his shoulders, and his steps were definitely heavier. When he slid into the driver’s seat, the Hummer sank noticeably. Lucas headed for the other vehicle, wondering—not for the first time—what in the hell Cole was. Tate came around the other side and motioned for Victoria to roll down the window, then shoved the black, embossed book through the opening. It practically landed in Victoria’s lap.

  “They said it smells like shit and they’re heading back to the Warehouse. I’ll go with them.” Tate shot Lucas a sloppy smile that he figured was supposed to be encouraging. “Let me see what I can do to fix this, my friend. They don’t understand, but maybe, if I explain everything that’s happened, they might. Give me a couple of hours to go over the situation with Rhiannon, and I’ll catch up with you lot. Sound good?”

  Lucas nodded, while Kieran leaned over the front seat, frowned, then placed his hand on the glossy black cover until a blue shimmer covered the book. “Containment field. Should render it undetectable for the time being,” he told Victoria, before thumbing up the map on his phone.

  Lucas scrubbed his face. He hardly even cared where they were going; all he knew was that this sucked. Everything in his world was falling apart, and he was damned if he knew how to put it back together again. Certainly, it would never be the same.

  Victoria, the only thing that felt real in his world, closed her hand over his. “We regroup. We re-plan. And if that doesn’t work?” She looked straight into his eyes, as if daring him to disagree. “Then we do it again.”

  When he didn’t react, she sighed. “These people”—she squeezed his hand—“have been your family for centuries, right? I know they’re pissed at you.” She paused. “But if they really love you, I doubt they’ll stay mad at you for long.”

  “Trust me, Alexis can stay pissed for a pretty long time,” Kieran said from the front, steering the truck back into heavy traffic. “But it was a nice speech, just the same.”

  Vic’s lips quirked. “Well, I tried. But let’s concentrate on drawing Devlin away from your friends. And the Warehouse. There’s no way you want Devlin finding your headquarters. Although, I have to say, this damn book is turning out to be more work than it’s worth. What does it even do? What good are Devlin’s spells, his magic, when you two have your own powers?” She pursed her lips. “And I have mine. I don’t want anything of Devlin’s, especially not his power. His magic is…tainted. Evil. I wouldn’t touch anything inside that book of his with a ten-foot pole.”

  “Not even if it would stop him forever?” Lucas asked quietly. “Because that’s what we can do, now that we have the book. We can stop him, Vic. Not just nullify his magic, or trap him on this world, but take his power away completely. He’d never be able to hurt anyone I love again.”

  A slight flush in her cheeks was the only sign Victoria had heard his declaration of love. Kieran cleared his throat and tightened his grip on the wheel.

  “Perhaps you should explain how that works, then,” she said. “Because a book is just a book, no matter how you want to look at it.”

  What Devlin had done with the book was seldom attempted. For one thing, it was risky—an act of sheer desperation—because while it solved one problem, it created a bigger one. Namely, anyone could steal your magic. Right out from under your nose.

  “Where does your magic come from, Vic?”

  “From…inside me, I suppose. Normally I pull it from the center of myself, and once I gather enough, I can direct it wherever I want. Unless, of course, I’m pissed—then it explodes out of me and anything can happen. Usually bad things. But that’s just operator error.”

  “Think of Devlin’s book like your center. The place from which you pull all of your power. The book is his soul jar.”

  Vic gasped, her eyes going wide. “That’s impossible. I mean, I’ve heard stories about things like that—hydriam, amulets, enchanted jewelry—but always assumed they were urban legends.”

  Kieran explained, as if he’d repeated it a thousand times, “In Devlin’s case, it’s true—this book is a hydriam. Long ago, when the magic’s drain became too much for his physical form, he had to bind his magic to an inert object, or he’d die. At the time, books were all the rage, so he had a well-known book binder create that monstrosity”—Kieran tipped his head toward the demon-bound tome—“for him. The pages, they say, are made from the skin of Dark Elves; the cover is dragon skin. The hinges and the lock were created with an especially rare type of deep iron, forged by the Fae of Annwyn. And the words are written in Devlin’s own blood, which binds the spells, and his magic, to the dried flesh.”

  Victoria inched away from the thing, and Lucas didn’t blame her one bit. “But what can we do with it? Even if it is filled with Devlin’s power?”

  Kieran’s voice, normally so calm and steady, turned brittle. “Like Lucas said. We can destroy him.”

  33

  Hours later they neared the cabin, nestled in the remote hollow in the wooded foothills of the Adirondacks. Victoria was still fast asleep, and Lucas was still running through the millionth scenario of how he could have fucked everything up a little less than he had.

  Even while he held Vic firmly against him, he couldn’t get the look on Alexis’s face out of his head. He’d acted like a douchebag. Taken the easy way out, time and time again. Instead of ending it months ago, he’d allowed things to go on, spiral out of control, while pretending everything would somehow work out.

  Kieran met Luc’s eyes in the rearview. “Alexis is a big girl, Luc. She knew what the deal was.”

&nb
sp; “Doesn’t matter. I knew I couldn’t give her what she was hoping for. And I should have been man enough to tell her.”

  Kieran did the two-and-ten routine while he maneuvered the car up the narrow, weed-filled track to the cabin. “If you ask me, I’d say we have bigger issues than hurt feelings and jealous ex-girlfriend.” He hesitated, then tossed his cell to the back seat. Lucas snatched it out of the air. “But I also know how you’re wired, and if settling things with your ex will get your head in the game, then I say call her and hash things out.”

  But Lucas couldn’t take his eyes off the blonde plastered against him. Victoria’s sleeping face, and the transformation from monster to sleeping beauty, was simply breathtaking. “No. I’ll let Alexis cool off. If I call her right now, we’ll just resume what went on in the parking lot and things will escalate from there.”

  Not that Lucas blamed Alexis one bit for her reaction—he deserved it one hundred percent—but time and perspective were both good if he stood a chance of explaining things to her.

  “And where does all of that leave Victoria?” Kieran asked.

  “It’s hard to explain, especially when I don’t understand this myself. Somewhere during these past couple days, everything changed. And now things are different. I’m different. Shit, Kieran, I’ve never felt like this about anyone. Never thought it was possible to feel like this.”

  “That much is clear, my brother. But I’m here to remind you, there’s damn good reasons we steer clear of mortals. Even ones with gifts as impressive as hers. Even ones with bloodlines stretching back to the first Fae.”

  Lucas didn’t have any idea how far those bloodlines went, nor did he know who Victoria’s mother was, since she hadn’t spoken a word about her. But…

  “Vic met her father.”

  “Her father’s dead,” Kieran said flatly. “No one’s seen Manannan for eons. Devlin boasts of killing the sea god, and I wouldn’t put it past the evil bastard to have done so.”

  “Her mortal father, the guardian who raised her, might be dead, but Manannan’s very much alive.” Lucas untangled his hand from Victoria’s and shifted her so she was more comfortable. “After we left you and stepped through the Montana gate, the damn thing took us to the little fishing village she was raised in. As if it knew…” Luc weighed the chances of that happy accident, trying not to read too much into that coincidence. “Long story short, instead of arriving in London, we ended up beside the North Sea. Vic talked to Manannan himself. The guy confirmed a couple of things. The biggest being she’s immortal.”

  “Convenient.” Kieran shut the truck off.

  Victoria stirred, her sleep-glazed eyes glassy. “We’re here?” She stretched, leaning across Luc to peer out the foggy window. “It’s so green here. Everything’s so lush.”

  Indeed, spring had turned this part of the Adirondacks into a rainforest. Moisture dripped in a steady cadence from overhead and ferns sprouted beneath behemoth trees, everything in brilliant hues of green and spring-bright citron.

  They pushed through waist-high weeds, the driveway half hidden by the explosion of spring growth. At the top of the drive sat a low concrete structure, long windows looking out over the surrounding woods. “This is our cabin,” Lucas said, opening the door for Victoria. “We call it a cabin, but it’s built like a fortress, and is our most secure safe house.” Hefting the book from the back seat took more effort than it should have, and he passed it off to his brother with a groan.

  “The safest,” Kieran echoed, his arms bulging as he carried the book up toward the cabin.

  “The closest portal is two hours away. And the second it activates, we can be on the move, further north or west. You can relax, Vic,” Lucas reassured her, watching her scan the surroundings one more time.

  “Everything is just so…big. And it smells amazing.”

  Luc met Kieran’s eyes, and they both smiled. “This was always our favorite spot. Far away from New York’s pollution, the city smell. I think all the vegetation filters out the stench of the city.”

  The drizzle had worked into a steady rain by the time they locked themselves inside, and they were all drenched.

  Kieran dropped the book onto the table with a solid, echoing boom, then waved his hand across it, and a darker glow bloomed over the cover, the shimmer of the containment spell settling over it, looking more solid this time. “That should hide this damn thing until we figure out a long-term solution. Having this in close proximity is not a healthy option for any of us.”

  Victoria looked from the magic-infused book to Kieran, to Luc. “How are you planning to use this, anyway? Do you know how to harness Devlin’s actual magic? Or use his spells against him? I still don’t understand how this book will help us defeat Devlin.”

  “First thing we have to do is get the damn thing open,” Kieran said. “And I’ll bet good money that task will prove to be next to impossible.”

  Luc cut in, “Just having his hydriam gives us leverage.”

  “Or put targets on our backs,” Kieran pointed out, his tone sour. “I don’t suppose you thought of that when this bright, shiny object caught your eye?”

  Luc grimaced at the condescension in his brother’s voice. “Oh, I thought about it,” he admitted. “But I was ten steps ahead, though you’d never believe me. A contingency plan, of sorts.” He looked to Victoria. “True, we can’t keep the thing, long-term. But possession of a thing is power in itself. And there are places even Devlin cannot go, not even if he holds his breath underwater. If we can combine the two?”

  Kieran’s face brightened. “You mean to give the book to Manannan for safekeeping,” Kieran said, then chuckled. “Not bad, Luc. It’s a sound plan. We’d still have access to it, and Devlin would have a hell of a time locating it. It should be almost impossible for him to reach.”

  Victoria mulled it over. “I have a feeling my father would enjoy holding the key to Devlin’s power in his hand. And he might be willing to help us unravel the power inside the book. I can get this to him. And as vast as the ocean is, there have to be a million places to stash it.

  “There is something else I’m hoping you can help me with.” Pulling out the worn leather binder, she met Luc’s eyes, then turned to Kieran. “This is a record of all the Trackers enslaved to the Circle. Do you have any idea how this works?”

  Kieran took the book from her, then slowly paged through it, his eyes widening. “I didn’t realize there are so many…” When he lifted his eyes, there was pity in them.

  “This looks like a Sanserliber, a blood-bound record,” he said. “Normally, it’s a type of magical contract, but in this case…it’s enslavement. The Circle used blood writing.” Kieran flipped to a page covered in clumsily smeared blood. “Even these crude marks you see here create a binding contract, ended only by death. The victim’s blood acts as a catalyst for the Mages’ magic, creating some kind of taglock, is my best guess—they can locate you, no matter where you go. Each Tracker’s blood on the page, in conjunction with the iron in the cuffs, is bound together by the Circle’s death spell. Because blood contains the victim’s life force, the only way to break the bond between the three things is to die.”

  “What if we burned the book?” Victoria asked.

  “It would only negate a portion of the spell. Not the magic in the cuffs, nor the Circle magic itself. No, this has to be done individually, and in tandem. Destroy each Tracker’s page, remove their cuffs and reverse the spell. Then the person will be free. And alive.”

  Victoria’s shoulders sagged. “I’ve never… I don’t know any of them. It wasn’t my habit to get close to anyone. Which means I don’t know who any of these people are, or how to find them.” She reached out for the book, and Kieran slid it into her waiting hands. She leafed through the thick, warped pages, her fingers snagging on the unwieldly parchment. “It wasn’t like we were friends. We were slaves. We did our best not to get close.”

  “It’s not impossible, Vic,” Luc said softly. “All you
have to do is convince them. Of everything—the book, the cuffs. That you can free them. There might be some who won’t agree.”

  “Tate might be willing to help,” Kieran said.

  Victoria considered it. “Maybe. He knew how to get the cuffs off, had the right tools. And he knew how to break the spell.” She smiled wryly. “Although I have the feeling Tate made less friends than I did in his years with the Circle.” Her face fell. “It’s just… I had this fantasy of freeing everyone at once, you know. Like destroying the book would just set them all free. It sounds crazy I know, but I thought I’d make a statement. And once I did, the entire Mage Circle might just fall apart.”

  Lucas took her hand. “That’s what we all want right now. But I have a feeling an organization that old and that corrupt won’t just collapse, not without a little help. With Devlin at its heart, it isn’t going to crumble so easily. But… Between losing their Trackers, one by one, and his hydriam disappearing?” His eyes began to gleam. “Sometimes, festering doubt is more insidious than a clean, quick strike.”

  Kieran nodded slowly. “We can’t get into Obsidian Hall again, that much is certain. But…”

  Luc knew that Kieran’s mind was already churning out the possibilities of how to play this.

  “The Circle needs an entire army of people to keep it operating: Mages, guards, assassins, researchers, alchemists—people we could use to our advantage. If we could plant enough doubt, enough distrust, they’d begin to turn on each other. Cannibalize the entire Circle, from the inside out.”

  Luc nodded. “Maybe they’d even turn on Devlin, eventually.”

  “We could use our disadvantage to our advantage,” Kieran pointed out.

  “Plant a few rumors, a few false leads here and there. If we were able to set some Trackers free, once they disappeared, and the Circle couldn’t track down escapees…” Lucas looked to Victoria, and she nodded.