“I don’t understand. How can I be a mage if I’ve never learned a single spell? No one is born a mage.”
He led them up a narrow, winding lane. Steep-peaked stone houses towered over them at crooked angles. “That’s true. Neither you or I came into this world as a mage. Neither did we learn magic in the conventional way. We both have your parents to thank for that.”
A cold sweat broke out on her brow. He knew who her parents were. “What did my birth parents do? How do we know each other? Were you there when they died?” He wasn’t her brother, was he? She remembered his gray eyes…
He paused, his gaze locking on hers. “We’re not from England, for one thing.”
“And where are we from?” Her voice was barely a whisper.
“From Maremount.”
The ground wavered beneath her feet. She came from a land of mages?
She took a shuddering breath. “But I’ve been with the Brotherhood since I was five. I was too young to be a mage. They can’t possibly blame me for a spell I cast when I was a little child.”
When he stepped closer, she had to fight the instinct to step away. Don’t show fear, Rosalind.
He touched her hand, and his energy fluttered over her skin—that strange, inexplicable thrill. As he lifted her fingers, he examined her ring. “Iron dampens the magic. If you take this off, you’ll lose your mind. That’s because you’re possessed with an extra spirit. You have two souls. One is your own, and the other belongs to a mage, long-since dead. Your parents imbued us both with a mages’ souls. The spirits they gave us were supposed to grant us powerful magic, and your parents believed they could control the mages within us. It didn’t work out. And without a lot of training, your mind will splinter. You won’t be able to handle both souls.”
She slipped her hand from his grasp, horror vibrating through her skull. For about the tenth time tonight, the world almost seemed to stop, and an overwhelming sense of vertigo flooded her mind.
Two souls? Her mind rebelled against everything he was saying. She was stuck in an unending nightmare.
She was a Hunter, but one corrupted by a dark magic. And her own parents had done it to her. If she took off the ring, she’d devolve into a predatory beast, like Caine.
She wanted to believe he was lying—just another mage trick—but in the darkest recesses of her mind she had the strangest sense that he was telling the truth.
“So that’s what Mason meant about me being corrupted.”
“You’re not corrupted. You could have tremendous power if you accepted it.”
“I don’t understand.” She could hardly breathe as her world crashed down on her. “Did vampires kill my parents?”
“No. Your parents sent you out of Maremount. They gave you to someone from the Brotherhood to keep your power in check. They probably paid someone to keep the magic hidden. To make sure you kept that ring on.”
“Mason,” she said, her pulse racing. “And all this time, my parents let me think they were dead. And they’re alive in Maremount.” Her voice broke.
“Please don’t start crying.”
She tried to force the tears back. “Why did they send me away?”
“They saw what happened to me.”
Something in his tone told her not to ask what he meant—not now, at least.
No wonder Mason had never shown any interest in her. He wasn’t really a father at all—more like a warden. Her stomach hollowed out. This was all too much to take in. “My parents ruined me.”
Her drenched clothes hung like ice against her skin, and she shivered, trying to keep her teeth from chattering.
He looked her over. “We need to get to Ambrose before you freeze to death. Let’s go.” He turned, stalking up the hill.
Caine’s revelation crushed her. She’d always imagined her parents as loving and kind, maybe other Hunters. Not demonic cultists who’d been paying someone to look after her, and who’d let her think they were dead. Seven hells. That wasn’t how it was supposed to be. Her fingernails pierced her palms, but this time, she wasn’t going to let herself cry.
She glanced at him. “Why is it that you’re able to live with two souls? Why haven’t you lost your mind?”
“Keep your voice down. You’re going to attract a legion of human traffickers who will force you into one of the brothels.”
Obviously, she needed to get this witch’s soul the hell out of her body. And then she’d explain it all to the Brotherhood—how none of it was really her fault. If she exorcised the spirit, she could get her life back. After all, she was still human. “How do I get the mage out of me?”
“I think you need to focus on the problem at hand. You must have had ambrosia recently, because you smell like a Hunter. It marks you out as a demon’s natural enemy. Any one of this world’s inhabitants would love to keep you as a pet. And if you get even the slightest cut on your skin, the whole city will descend to feast on a Hunter.”
She frowned. He was being dramatic. “That seems a bit extreme. And you’re human. Why don’t they kill you?”