A Book of Spirits and Thieves

Crys looked back at the kid. Adam? Of course. Now she recognized him from that magazine photo spread. He was Adam Grayson, Farrell’s younger brother.

Adam glanced nervously at the elevator doors before facing his brother, squaring off with him sternly. “This is wrong, Farrell. I know you can’t see it, that you’re all messed up, but it is.”

“You need to get out of here.” Farrell’s voice was low, his tone wracked with danger. “This isn’t your business.”

“It is my business.”

“Kid’s a troublemaker,” Lucas said, his arms crossed defensively in front of his chest. “Not good, Farrell. Control your brother.”

“Trying to.”

“Try harder. And as for you.” Lucas glared at Crys. “You need to learn your place.”

“Oh yeah?” She laughed in his face at his pompous statement. “Come closer and say that.”

“Crys . . . ,” Becca hissed.

But Lucas did come closer. Crys grabbed his shirt and brought her knee up as hard as she could, but he twisted out of the way before she could do any damage.

“Nice try.” And in an instant, he grabbed her face and slammed her back against the wall. “You think you’re so tough, but you’re nothing but a weak, insignificant girl. Are you going to force me to teach you a lesson right now?”

Before she could respond, he backhanded her, hard, making her ears ring.

“Enough. Let’s get them to Markus’s,” Farrell growled. “Adam, I’ll deal with you later.”

“I’m not nearly finished yet,” Lucas replied. “Got to say a proper thanks to your girlfriend for breaking my nose.”

He shoved Crys again, this time smacking her face against the concrete surface. Her glasses broke. Pain reverberated through her whole body, and hot blood trickled down her forehead as she collapsed to the ground.

Lucas kicked her in the stomach and she cried out.

“Stop it!” Becca tried to grab his arm to pull him back, but he pushed her away with the slightest effort.

“I told you, enough,” Farrell snapped.

Crys looked up through a veil of pain. Her broken glasses lay in shards next to her, the left lens completely shattered.

“Lucas, what the hell do you think you’re doing?” It was Daniel Hatcher, walking toward them. He still had the Bronze Codex tucked under his arm.

“Your daughter doesn’t know how to behave,” Lucas explained. “I’m teaching her a lesson.”

Daniel looked down at where she lay on the floor. “She’s always been a bit difficult. Stubborn and argumentative to a fault.”

“She sure is.”

“Hold this, please.” He handed the Codex to an annoyed-looking Farrell. “Lucas, I have to tell you something very important. Are you listening?”

“Sure.”

“If anyone hurts my daughter? I’ll kill them.”

He took Lucas’s head between his hands and twisted. The sound of his snapping neck echoed brutally off the walls.

Lucas fell to the ground beside Crys, his eyes still open, cold and staring.

Farrell took a step backward. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Excellent question,” her father said. He twisted the gold ring on his left index finger to reveal a short needle, then clapped his hand against Farrell’s neck.

Farrell stared out at them in shock before dropping to his knees, then crumpled over to his side, unconscious.

The elevator doors finally opened up.

“Get on the elevator. Adam, lead them out of here.” Daniel came to Crys’s side and helped her to her feet. “How badly are you hurt?”

“I’ll survive,” she groaned. “What’s going on, Dad?”

“Markus has his inner circle monitor all the society members closely, unbeknownst to them. Adam, when I saw that your dagger mark wasn’t affecting you properly, that you still had doubts about Markus and Hawkspear, I knew that what was happening to you was the same thing that happened to Julia. Girls, your mother wasn’t totally affected by the marks, either. Those who have a natural resistance to Markus’s magic are appalled by what happens here. It’s slowly made me question the validity of my loyalty to this man. To his mission. What I feel, what I think, what I believe . . . it’s all wrong. I’ve been corrupted by his magic. I know that now with more certainty than ever before.”

Hope welled in Crys’s chest. “So does that mean you can break away from him now that you’re thinking clearly again?”

“No. My thoughts are still as unclear and unreliable. I’m afraid the marks continue to affect me deeply, just as they’re meant to. I chose the society, Crissy, because what Markus has done to me has made me complicit in his actions. But what I’ve seen over the last week . . . after you became involved in all this . . . somehow it’s managed to wake me up from a very long slumber. I couldn’t let him hurt you or Becca.” He gently squeezed Becca’s hand. “And I won’t let you follow me down this path of darkness. Get out of here while you still can. And take this.” He grabbed the Codex off the floor and handed it to Crys. “If it’s true that Markus will die without it, then let him die.”