“You made an interesting choice with this one. She's more than just a black witch, her chi able to hold more without suffering the consequences. Although, her arcane and aggressive magic is weak, so you’re unlikely to have any resistance. At least not magically,” Frederick sniggered. “She will be the one who practices the spells you share.”
“So why bother with you when I’ve already been given this witch?” Dirk unfurled from the chair.
“She needs my power behind her, do not mistake that,” Frederick warned, his tone dark as he flicked his gaze between them. “Kyra is mine, and will do asIsay.”
“I thought she was mine to play with?” Dirk chuckled over his shoulder. “I like to beveryhands on with these spells.”
“Only with my permission,” Frederick added, trying to keep some sort of dominance in the conversation.
Kyra swallowed, but remained a statue when Dirk stalked over, circling her as if she were a prized horse.
“Little Black Witch,” Dirk greeted her. “I can still taste your delicious aura. Can you still taste mine?” His hand brushed against hers, and she couldn’t stop her recoil.
Frederick barked a laugh. “It looks like she needs a little more training.”
“Indeed,” Dirk said with a smirk. “But I guess it’s half the fun to break them in.” His attention settled on the blood on her shoulder. “My hounds were a little excited to scent their master on you, however one of them didn’t return.”
Kyra looked at Frederick, who only raised a brow.
“You wouldn’t know what happened to my hound, would you?”
“I’m sorry,” she replied, tipping her head back slightly. “I have no idea.”
Dirk’s smile turned cold, his next words whispered for her alone. “Such secrets, I wonder if your own master’s aware of the deceit in your eyes?”
She held her breath.
“Kyra, why don’t you go prepare yourself,” Frederick said, the door clicking open at her back. “Bane will show you to your quarters. We will meet when the moon is high to begin working on the parchment.”
“I need to get my stuff,” she said as Bane entered at her side. “From my home.”
Frederick’s features tightened. “Bane will do that, now if you could…”
“No,” she interrupted, ignoring the sharp nails as Bane grabbed onto her wrist. “I would like to do it myself If I am to stay here for an extended period of time.”
“Do as you say?” Dirk sniggered. “I hope the sacrifices you have prepared are far more obedient.”
“Sacrifices?” Kyra echoed, her chest turning cold.
Frederick’s face glowed, his lips twisted. “Go.” He dismissed her with a flick of the wrist. “Don’t take long. We have a lot of work to do.”
Kyra didn’t need to be told twice. She remained silent as Bane shoved her into the waiting car, and then slid in beside her. She ignored his concerned glare, her energy erratic as she tried to control the spike caused by her nerves.
She only had the one chance, she had to make it count.
Kyra very slowly dislodged the cuff on her upper arm, loosening the crystal against her skin. Her senses awakened, the threads of life she tried so hard to ignore anchored themselves to her chi. Bane’s was strong beside her, his thread steady but dark, almost a shadow.
She had to wait, just a little longer as he slipped out the car first, holding his hand out to her. Kyra smiled, her fingers touching his when she yanked that thread. He let out a pained scream, and with all her strength she pushed him to the pavement. She felt his thread slip away from her mental grasp, but she was already moving, already running down the street. She couldn’t have torn his soul from his body even if she tried, his aura too strong. But it was enough as she ran with as much speed as she could gather through the streets and alleys.
She paused by the river Thames, lungs burning, and before she threw her phone away she made one last call to the one man who despised her.
Chapter17
Kyra
Kyra tried to make herself appear as relaxed as possible, her hands restless in her lap beneath the large table. She was on one end, opposite Riley with six other men sat on either side. Their attention crawled all over her skin, silent accusations of betrayal sharp enough to cut.
Why the audience?she thought, but unable to vocalise. The men were all different, and yet their dominant presence was if they were a single entity. Guardians was what they called themselves, but guardians of what, exactly?
