Charlie releases the barrier, and she immediately starts tugging on the jewelry. It doesn’t budge. Frustrated, she holds her palm toward Jamison, but nothing happens. Tears roll down her sharp cheekbones as she slides to the floor, cradling her wrist.
“Take it off. Please, take it off,” she cries over and over. “I can’t live without my magic.”
Jamison stares down at her with a resolute expression. “And yet, you tried to steal mine. You’ll never wield again. Even if you find a way to remove it, it won’t matter. I tied the curse to your lifeline. You can live without your magic or die.” He turns toward me and holds his hand out. “We need to get out of here before my father returns.”
I reach to take his hand, but he shakes his head.
“The ring,” he clarifies in an abrupt tone.
Swallowing the hurt rising in my chest, I place the ring in his hand and step back. It’s going to be a long trip home.
9
JAMISON
Hawthorne conjures a portal to take us to Germany. The attack drained quite a bit of both Charlie’s and my magic, so we all decide it’s best to fly back to the U.S. Weary and in pain, Gatlin eases me into a seat on Phaedra’s jet. I watch through half-mast lids as she takes a seat in the aisle across from me. She looks good. Too damn good. Part of me wants to yank her into my arms and kiss the bloody hell out of her, but the other half is still furious.
Worried bright blue eyes keep scanning me from head to toe.
“I’m not going to die,” I say dryly, lifting my lids. Tension fills the small cabin. Hawthorne shifts restlessly beside me. “You didn’t have to come with Gatlin to save me.” Even saying the words stings my pride, but I’m tired of the secrets and want to see if she’s willing to be honest.
“Gatlin and I were in Germany when we received Hawthorne’s message,” she replies. Her eyes dart to Gatlin, and he gives her a subtle nod. She bites her lip, then continues. “I know I screwed everything up between us, but the thought of you hurt or in danger…I couldn’t stand it. I needed to come.”
Reluctant as they may be, her words are a balm to the fury inside me. But I’m not ready to talk about what happened, and certainly not on a plane with Maverick watching everything like it’s a bloody show.
Instead, I ask, “What were you two doing in Germany? Chasing down a panel?”
Gatlin snorts. “Committing a crime.” When I turn my head to face him, he exhales heavily. “The only crown Phaedra deemed good enough to give Hera was locked in a museum. With no access to the council’s resources, we had to steal it.” He goes on to explain Charlie and Maverick’s role and the necklace they also stole.
Astonished, I laugh. Gatlin loves rules and order, and yet, here he is, actively breaking them to help Phaedra.Hmm.Phaedra rolls her eyes, making me pause. Those two have certainly gotten close.
“How far have you gotten on this new quest?” Hawthorne asks in a smooth tone. His green eyes dart to Phaedra, a look of yearning in their depths, but he quickly drops his gaze to the glass of water in front of him.
Phaedra explains in a tired voice, and a portion of my anger shifts toward the gods. After the war with the supernaturals, they receded, but it’s obvious they’re still watching. And playing games. Hasn’t Phaedra done enough for them? No wonder she’s been afraid. The power they hold over her life and future is absolute. I wish I knew what they’re planning. A pomegranate appears in front of my face, bringing me back into the conversation.
“I’m second-guessing the pomegranate and lotus,” Phaedra explains as she hands the fruit to Hawthorne. “They seem too simple. The last thing I want to do is insult Hera.” There’s a slight undercurrent of contempt in her voice that echoes in the small space.
Hawthorne’s hands lightly rub the red surface. “I might be able to help.” He sets the fruit down in front of him to study it. “So, you have the two objects for the first two temples, correct? The crown and peacock pin?”
“Correct,” she confirms. “I need to do some research to see if I can find another alternative for the lotus.” Her finger slides over the delicate petal of the flower in front of her. “And the scepter.”
“Do you want…” Hawthorne trails off. “Never mind.”
When it’s clear he isn’t going to say anything else, she sighs and turns away. In minutes, she looks to be engrossed in her laptop, but the stiffness in her shoulders tells me she’s struggling to focus. I look over at Gatlin and find him staring at Hawthorne with a tinge of anger in his expression. Really, though. What does he expect? This family, our bond, is everything, and her revelation tore it to pieces.
Gatlin looks at me and raises an eyebrow. I know he’s expecting a debrief, but I want to wait until we’re alone. I flick a glance at Maverick, then back to Gatlin, and he nods in understanding. Besides, I need to rest. Pain wracks my body. The spell they used to siphon my magic should have left me with nothing. I was able to resist it for far longer than I expected. How, though?
I turn my signet ring over in my palm. The curse is gone. Probably my imagination, but it seems lighter without its heavy burden. It rolls around in my palm as I think about the last few days and the role it played in my capture.
From the moment I arrived, I could tell Lady Carrington was under a spell. She had the same blank look in her eyes that she’d had at the museum that night. It made me uneasy. I knew I could use it to my advantage, though, to get her to talk.
Confronting her, I slipped off the ring, but before I could access my magic, someone snuck up behind me and fed power into the signet and the curse, putting me in complete stasis. This gave Lady Carrington the time she needed to steadily siphon my power without me stopping her.
Only someone who knew the ring was cursed could have done it, which means it could only have been my father. But why? I rub a hand across my chest as the phantom pain from my childhood surfaces. He might not love me like most fathers love their sons, but he’s fiercely protective of our lineage. None of it makes any sense. I rub my head, trying to stave off the headache threatening me.
Since we left Lady Carrington’s, my magic has slowly been trickling into the void inside me, but it’s going to take several days to fill the well, so to speak. Once it does, there’s nowhere he can run that I won’t find him.
The massive whitefarmhouse with its wraparound porch is a complete surprise. Gatlin mentioned Phaedra’s house in the country, but he failed to mention this was her home. No wonder her condo was sparse. It was literally only a place to sleep.
