Mara didn’t bother trying to fight her way back from the place her sister’s element had sent her. Wherever they were taking her, she wanted fire in control. Her other half was stronger, and this wasn’t going to be good.
Down a long, dim corridor. The musty odor made her stomach turn, and her daughter kicked her—hard—right in the stomach. At least the spell hadn’t affected the baby.
The men turned left and brought her into a large ritual space. A silver circle was inlaid into the stone floor, made up of dozens of symbols. Some, like the Celtic Trinity Knot, she recognized. Others, she’d never seen before.
Laying her on a massive stone altar in the center of the circle, the men secured her wrists and ankles in metal cuffs so her joints stretched painfully, and the other half of her consciousness whimpered.
The two women took up position close to Mara’s waist. The one on the left—a blond with short, spiked hair, withdrew a small blade from her pocket and cut Mara’s t-shirt from the neck to the hem.
“Bring the iron,” the other practitioner said to the men, then with a few more unintelligible words, Mara’s body was freed from whatever spell had kept her immobile.
“No, no, no,” the fire elemental hissed. “Not the baby.”
“Oh, we would never harm the baby, elemental. She—along with Eliziam Ruiz—will give us the world. Now wecouldwait another ten weeks until you give birth, or we can speed up the process.”
Mara would have been hyperventilating if she’d been the one in control of her body. Nothing couldspeed uppregnancy.
“Is it hot enough?” the blond one asked. “If Celia has to perform the ceremony a second time, it will not be good for the baby.”
“Aye, Mistress Freya,” the man said. Mara tried to see what the robed lackey was holding, but as her head started to turn, Freya, the blond practitioner, forced a thick piece of leather between her teeth.
“You will need this, elemental. If you do not do your best to hold still, this will be immeasurably more painful.” Freya’s purple eyes held no emotion beyond disdain, and Celia started to chant.
“Oh, God. No. Not another spell. Please—”
“Now,” Freya said, and the hooded man pressed a white-hot branding iron to Mara’s side.
She—and the fire elemental—both screamed until the sizzle and stench of burnt flesh made Mara’s stomach roil. Tears streamed down her cheeks, and she fought not to pass out.
Celia, whose jet-black hair was wound into a tight knot at the base of her neck, rested her hand on Mara’s forehead. “That is the worst of it, elemental. The control mark will ensure you do not give us any trouble. Or harm yourself or the baby.”
Control mark?
Mara strained to see what they’d done to her, but she couldn’t raise her head. When the hooded man stepped back, however, panic seized her heart in a vise. The branding iron he held aloft...she recognized that symbol. It was the same one Fergus had tried to carve into Farren’s side. The same one he’d given Colin. The same one the Thirteen had given Tharp all those years ago.
The fire elemental spit out the leather. “You will die for this.”
“By the power of theCumhacht Dearadh, we take control of this body,” Celia murmured as she stared into Mara’s eyes. “Time is ours, we do control, the child will not pay the toll. Pass a week now in a day, ensure the mother will obey.”
Pain—like a lattice work of electricity—spread across Mara’s skin, and she arched her back, tried to dig her heels against the altar, and screamed until she couldn’t anymore.
Freya snapped her fingers and murmured a few quiet words, and Mara’s thoughts muddled. Slowed. Her eyelids fluttered, and she had the vague idea she was moving. Standing.
A cool breeze hit her naked back, followed by the rustle of cloth cascading from her shoulders to her bare toes. The brand on her side tightened, the pain fading into her memories.
Walking now. Only the occasional brief glimpse of the stone corridor. Of a plain gray dress covering her body.
“Bring her food and water,” Celia called to someone behind them. At least now Mara knew who was holding her arm. Not that she could resist. Her legs moved of their own accord, and though the fire elemental hadn’t released her control yet, Mara sensed the other half of her consciousness was just as trapped and terrified as she was.
Back in the cell, when Celia let go of her, she was finally able to force her eyes open. Now, instead of being completely empty, there was a thin mattress on the floor, complete with blanket and pillow. The left wall had...moved,and where it had once been, a toilet and sink.
“You will do as we command,” Celia said, her voice taking on a deeper, raspier tone. “Do not fight us. You will eat and drink what we bring you. All of it. When the lights go out, you will sleep. When they turn on, you will wake. You belong to us now, elemental, and once your child is born, your end will be merciful.”
Merciful.
Mara took solace in that word. For all of two minutes. As soon as one of the black-robed men set a tray of food on a small wooden table and she was alone again, the bars materialized back in place before her eyes, and the fire elemental yanked up the dress and started clawing at the brand on her side.
But her nails were too short to do any damage to the mark becauseit was no longer fresh. The thick reddish scars looked to be at least a week old, maybe more, and as she felt her belly, she realized what Celia’s words had meant.
