29
THE WIND WAS bitter cold as it swept across the black field, and I wouldn’t have been surprised if snowflakes started drifting down from the sky. Based on the fact that it was still night and f*cking cold, I knew we were standing outside the upstate New York Tower. The gleaming white monolith rose up toward the heavens. It should have looked like a beacon of hope to the world, but the world couldn’t see this structure because of the thick web of protective spells that stretched around the area. Of course, if the world could see the Tower, they would have viewed it as a giant bony middle finger. They would have been right.
Gideon pointed his wand, his face expressionless as he motioned for me to lead the way through the wood-and-iron-banded door in front of me. A giant could have walked through the massive opening without needing to duck his head down. I never understood why they had made it so big since everyone who entered walked on two human feet. I guess it was made to intimidate, but sadly warlocks and witches didn’t intimidate easily.
This was my first visit to the New York Tower, but all the Towers looked the same. The exterior was a mix of white marble and pale granite, while the interior halls were covered in red-veined black marble. The individual rooms were customized to the tastes of the inhabiting witch or warlock, ranging from the spartan to the extravagant.
It was after midnight and the halls of the Tower were nearly silent, but then the Towers were rarely ever noisy, as if idle conversation had been forbidden by the council. A few people paused as they passed through the halls to stop and stare. Lips curled with disgust at the sight of a beaten and bleeding dark elf, but eyes narrowed speculatively when they spotted me. I doubted anyone would recognize me. Oh, all the people of the Towers knew my name, but few had ever seen me and even fewer knew of my altered appearance.
We moved silently down the hall to a large opening. There was no elevator car as you would expect, just an empty shaft that ran from the top of the tower to several floors below the earth. Without hesitating, I stepped into the emptiness, my feet finding an invisible platform. Gideon and Reave were immediately behind me.
“Council chambers,” Gideon said in a strong voice.
The invisible floor fell away and we dropped into the darkness, my stomach instantly becoming swept away. Reave screamed, the horrible sound echoing throughout the shaft, so that everyone within the Tower could hear it. I closed my eyes and clamped my mouth shut, willing myself to trust the magic despite my own desire to scream. The worst had always been when a new apprentice was brought to the Tower. The child’s screams could be heard for weeks echoing through the building until the apprentice grew accustomed to this mode of travel.
Just when you were sure you would slam into the earth, breaking every bone in your body, a gentle force surrounded you, slowing your descent so you landed softly on another platform at your desired floor. I opened my eyes to find us on the bottom floor. Torchlight danced along the walls of the narrow hallway that ended in another set of enormous black doors. The walls and floor were black. The wall sconces were black iron. The only color was the flickering flames.
I stepped out of the shaft first with Reave floating just above the ground behind me. Gideon hadn’t bothered to heal his knee and kept him in a physical binding spell. There was no reason to heal him so long as he could talk and scream. As we walked down the hall, the doors automatically opened to reveal a room almost as big as the entire Tower was round. When we entered, it was like walking into a wall of noise after passing through so many silent halls. A quick glance revealed that all twelve members of the council were present. Only one seat was vacant, but then a new member had yet to be elected following Peter’s death. They were all dressed in the classic black robes, but in place of their wands were long wooden staves topped with different-colored orbs.
The twelve council members were on a dais so that they could easily look down on the supplicants and accused. Before them was an open floor that was a strange mix of a courtroom floor and an arena for gladiators. At the opposite end of the room were several rows of seats for people to watch the proceedings. To my displeasure, every seat in the place was taken. I had prayed that due to the lateness of the hour, I would come before only the council members, but I had a feeling that because of the high stress caused by recent events, everyone was waiting for news with bated breath.
As we neared the center of the room, one of the council warlocks pounded his staff on the floor twice. A moment later, the double door banged closed, sending a horrible echo through my chest. Please, let those doors open for me again.
“Mr. Powell, this is an unexpected visit,” Henry Fox called down to me. I clenched my jaw, fighting the urge to make a snide remark. These a*sholes weren’t going to make it easy on me, but starting a fight with the council would not help me see daylight again. “And you even dressed for the occasion.”
I stood, stiff and sore, staring straight ahead at the cold, black stone wall that made up the front of their dais, refusing to acknowledge Fox’s comments. I knew as soon as I said one word to the prick, he’d bring up the fact that I’d used forbidden magic in a fight that he witnessed—getting both myself and Gideon in trouble. Sure, that f*cking a*shole started the fight, but I wasn’t sure there were many in the room who would care about this technicality.
“Master Toussaint,” one witch on the council started a bit wearily. I nearly looked around to see who she was addressing when it dawned on me that she was talking to Gideon. I knew his last name, but I hadn’t heard it used in a long time. “It seems that Mr. Powell has finally given you a reason to bring him before us. It’s a shame it couldn’t wait for a more agreeable hour.”
There was a soft rustle of material behind me, making me think that Gideon had bowed to the council. “I am sorry about the lateness of the hour, but I felt that due to the urgency of our current situation, it would be best if this were handled as soon as possible.”
It was a struggle not to roll my eyes. The warlock could be as smooth as silk when he wanted to be, not that he ever wasted it on me. He was diplomatic, with only the faintest touch of lips to ass to keep all the feathers unruffled. It was yet another reason why I couldn’t survive in the Towers.
“Really?” another warlock said.
“Yeah, I heard that the Towers were in a bit of a fix,” I said, my gaze darting up to the sour faces glaring down at me.
“And how would you know about the concerns of the Towers?” the same warlock demanded, his voice growing stiffer as he straightened in his high-backed wooden chair. You’d think if they were going to be stuck in those chairs for hours on end, they’d make them out of something more comfortable, but then I guess a cushioned recliner didn’t look as intimidating.
“Well, having Indianapolis destroyed was kind of a giveaway,” I said with a shrug and a grin. “But then, you hear things when you’re living among the puny mortals. Things I’m sure you don’t want the masses to know, but one way or another, those whispers find their way to my ear.”
No one spoke for several seconds as the members looked at one another. Their faces were blank, but the buzz of energy in the air grew. A couple orbs at the end of the staves held by the council members glowed, tying a fresh knot in my stomach. The light indicated when a witch or warlock was drawing energy to her- or himself. The council members weren’t necessarily starting to cast a spell. High emotions also tended to draw and excite the energy in the air, but a glowing orb was rarely a good sign.
The council chamber was supposed to be a magic-free zone in the hopes that people could speak freely there without the fear of being vaporized. It didn’t exactly work out that way, but it was a nice idea. The room was black because it was intimidating, but I had a feeling that its designers had also chosen the color because it didn’t immediately reveal spilled blood.
“Why are the problems of the Towers your concern?” a witch asked. It was the same one who had addressed Gideon with such a tired voice. Her black hair was pulled back into a severe bun with a few thick streaks of gray threading through it. Her skin was the color of rich mahogany and she looked as if she’d be pretty if she smiled, but there was something about the lines surrounding her dark eyes that said the witch didn’t smile much.
“I guess because I would rather not see the town I’m living in wiped from the map,” I said with a little more bite than I had meant to use. Frowning, I walked over to Reave and grabbed a handful of the back of his torn and bloody shirt. “Let’s cut the crap. Someone found out the locations of the Towers. Seven of them. With my usual rotten luck, I tripped over the bastard who wormed through your glamour spells and I’ve brought him to you.” As I spoke, I gave Reave a little shake. The dark elf snarled at me, trying to twist around so that he could hurt me, but Gideon’s binding spell was holding him in place.
“Now, that is extremely generous of you, Mr. Powell,” commented a warlock with a heavy dose of sarcasm. Somehow, he managed to lounge in his chair, looking as if he were nine months pregnant and proud of it. He had been at my hearing ten years ago, but I couldn’t recall his name. He had been an a*shole then too. Funny, that.
“Yes, well, since I’ve had a few witches and warlocks appear recently looking for my head because of this fiasco, I thought it would be in my best interest to clean up this mess for you.”
A little less insulting, if you don’t mind, Gideon growled in my head. I’d like to live through this nightmare.
I wanted to telepathically tell Gideon to f*ck off, but I had a feeling that I was being very closely monitored—the council members would know if I was secretly speaking to my warden.
Instead, I clenched my teeth and pushed down my anger. Sure, I was the one being unjustifiably hunted and had a right to be pissed, but Gideon’s fate was largely tied to my own. If I fell tonight, there was a good chance Gideon would fall as well. Against my better judgment, I was starting to like the a*shole and didn’t want to be the reason he was roasted.
“I think many who came knocking on your door felt their arrival was justified since you most likely supplied the information about the Towers’ locations,” Henry Fox said blandly.
I smiled at Fox, but it was little more than a baring of my teeth, like a dog guarding a bone against an unwelcome guest. “I may have not wanted to be a part of your club, Master Fox, but we all know that I wouldn’t betray the secrets of the Towers. That would help no one.”
Fox grinned back, a cold, evil thing. “I don’t think anyone would put betrayal past you following the death of Master Thorn.”
“When I left, I retained the right to defend myself against attack. Simon Thorn came hunting for me when he wasn’t supposed to know where I was. The bastard got what he deserved. I struggle to believe you’re mourning his death considering that he kicked your magical ass on more than one occasion.”
A low wave of noise crashed behind me, a mix of gasps, chuckles, and angry words that rippled through the room. Gideon even swore under his breath and I knew he was longing to punch me, but he held it in. Henry Fox jumped to his feet, the orb on the end of his staff glowing bright red in his rage. Everything in me screamed to gather up some energy for a defensive shield, but I was afraid that if I tried to do this, the council wouldn’t look too kindly on it. I had a right to defend myself, but I was already skating on thin ice, no reason to punch through to a frigid death.
“Master Fox!” snapped the black witch, causing his head to jerk around and look down the row to her. The orb on her staff glowed an icy, bluish white. Her slender body was extremely rigid as she stared down at him. “Sit,” she said with a hiss that silenced everyone in the chamber. Henry glared at her for several seconds before resuming his seat. The red glow dimmed at the end of his staff, but didn’t completely fade.
I won’t do that again. Curb your tongue or I’ll cut it out myself. The words drifted through my brain, cold and sharp as if someone had shoved a knife through my temple. The witch who was glaring at Fox never looked directly at me when she sent the message, but I knew she was the one who sent it.
My gut told me that she was part of the same movement as Gideon and Peter, but I wasn’t willing to bet my life on it. She may have just been concerned about determining the source of the information leak and would have been happy to see me impaled on my own wand at a later time.
“Back to the issue at hand,” Pregnant drawled as if bored by the whole affair, but I had seen his smile at my dig at Fox. I wasn’t stupid enough to think that he was on my side. He was only amused at Fox’s embarrassment. “I’m assuming this thing that has been dragged before us is the one who located the Towers. Do you even know how he managed it?”
“Gage did it!” Reave shouted. He had been silent for so long that I had forgotten that he had the power of speech. “He told me where to find the Towers. Sent me to each location. He forced me!”
I lunged at Reave, hammering my fist into the side of his face with enough force to make him slump against the binding spell. He wasn’t unconscious, but he was close. “You f*cking liar!” I snarled. “You brought this on yourself. I won’t let you drag me down with you.”
Reave’s mouth moved as if he were trying to smile. “I won’t be the only one to die today.”
I raised my fist to hit him again, but energy wrapped around me and I slid across the floor as Gideon drew me away from Reave. I wasn’t helping my case.
“Read his mind,” I said between clenched teeth as I glared at Reave. The Svartálfar was breathing in short gasps as if the pain was getting to him. Either that or it was a rising tide of panic pressing against his chest. My head snapped up to look at the council members. “Read his mind and see the truth,” I said louder. They didn’t look particularly pleased with my “request,” but one after another, each orb glowed a neutral yellow as they cast the spell to read the dark elf’s mind.
It was several seconds before anyone on the council spoke again. “Powell wasn’t involved in the information leak,” one warlock said, almost disappointed. He hadn’t spoken since I entered the room and he didn’t look particularly pleased with the revelation that I wasn’t involved. Of course, I had a few other strikes against me.
“But he did work for the elf,” murmured a witch at the far end of the row of council members. Her voice was soft and thoughtful, as if she were carefully considering the things she was seeing in Reave’s mind.
“Not willingly,” I said. “A daylight attack by Simon Thorn forced my secret out into the populace. Reave used blackmail to force me to work for him.”
“So I saw.” Her voice hardened. She didn’t look at me when she spoke, but was looking over my shoulder at Gideon. My heart pounded in my chest and a cold sweat broke out between my shoulder blades. If she was seeing Reave’s anger about my activities at the fix house, then she was likely drawing some interesting conclusions about Gideon’s failure to report what had occurred at the house to the council. F*ck.
“Reave is the one who discovered the secret locations,” I said in a rush, pushing forward in hopes of distracting the rest of the council from whatever the witch had seen. “I humbly request that the Towers punish the Svartálfar called Reave and send a message to the leaders of the world that you’ve captured the enemy that brought destruction down on the world’s people.”
A low chuckle rippled over me, drawing my gaze down to the opposite end of the row of council members. A lean warlock sat back in his chair, watching me through dancing green eyes. He wore the same black robes as all the others and his staff wasn’t much different from theirs, but when I looked at him, the only word that came to mind was dandy. Something in me wanted to believe he was harmless, which only set more alarm bells. No warlock or witch was harmless.
“I didn’t think you knew such a term, Mr. Powell. Humble,” he said with another laugh.
I didn’t recognize him, so I didn’t think he had been at my hearing. Of course, the memory of my hearing was a terrified blur, so he could have been there.
“Can you be humble?” he asked with a grin.
I bowed to the council a bit stiffly, bending low at the waist. “Please, consider my request. Let people sleep easily in their beds again.” I was looking at the shiny floor as I spoke, but they heard me. Bile rose up in my throat and I wanted to scream. Hatred and shame battled in my chest until I was nearly choking. I hated having to abase myself before these a*sholes, but if it kept everyone safe for a little while longer, I could swallow my pride.
When I straightened and gazed up at the council, they were all looking at each other but no one was speaking. The orbs had changed to an orangish glow as they used telepathy to deliberate silently with each other. If there was a consensus among them, they wouldn’t bother to vote. If the council was widely divided, they’d vote verbally.
I swallowed hard, fighting the need to throw up as the tension roiled my stomach. The argument seemed cut-and-dry to me. Reave had found the locations of the Towers. He deserved to be punished for threatening the order of the world. I doubted there was a government in the world that would agree to punish him with a death sentence, but if a scapegoat could take the blame without risking more lives, they’d all hand him over without hesitation. It wasn’t right, but it kept people alive.
Of course, I didn’t know what else they had seen in Reave’s mind and I was praying they didn’t throw my name in with his so they could get rid of me.
“It’s decided,” the black witch announced, and my heart stopped for a second, waiting. “The elf will be executed for his violation of our sanctity.” I waited but she stopped talking and no one said my name. I released my held breath in a rush. My head swam and my knees went weak. I was sure that I was going to fall on my ass in the middle of the chamber and I didn’t care.
“I’m not the only one who knows!” Reave screamed in desperation.
“No,” I said in a broken whisper before I could catch myself. If I thought it would have made a difference, I would have killed Reave in that second, but it was too late. The words had already hit the air. Apparently, the council members hadn’t dug deeply enough to see Reave give the locations to my brother, but now they would know.
I closed my eyes against the swell of impotent rage and tears, but not before I saw the orbs snap to bright yellow as they dove back into Reave’s mind, searching for the bit of information that they had missed.
“Robert Grant . . . your brother . . .” one of the council members said in surprise. I didn’t know who had spoken, but the voice had been female, sounding almost sad, or at least pitying.
I took at deep breath and blinked back the tears before looking up at them. “It was Reave’s way of ensuring my cooperation and protection against the Towers. He told the locations to my brother.” My tone was quiet, almost as if I was dead inside, but I wasn’t that lucky.
“And the location of this brother?” the dandy inquired.
It had been on the tip of my tongue to say that I killed him, but they would know the truth. They would search my brain until they found the memory of me murdering my brother. I couldn’t lie to the council. I could stretch the truth, but not outright lie.
“He’s gone.”
The warlock smiled at me, trying to look as if he was my best friend in the world, but I wasn’t buying it. “Where?”
“No.”
The warlock’s eyes widened, but otherwise there was no reaction on his lean face as he watched me. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see several orbs flare to bright red. Yeah, this was what I had been waiting for. You didn’t refuse the council and you never struck bargains, but I was going to try to do both to save my brother’s life.
I prepared to step out on the tightrope. The council members could try to read my mind like they had read Reave’s, but they wouldn’t be as successful because I was a warlock. I knew how to compartmentalize thoughts, hide them away so that a quick search would reveal nothing. Oh, they could eventually find the truth, but it wasn’t going to be quick. They’d have to strip away each layer of my brain until there was nothing left of me. Normally, the council wouldn’t have a problem with such a thing, other than that it took lots of valuable time. I had to give them a good reason not to destroy my mind.
“Reave told my brother, but I wiped the memory. Robert doesn’t know the locations now; nor is he aware that he ever knew them.”
The dandy flashed me an indulgent smile that I wanted to rip off his face with a rake. “Forgive us if we’re not as confident as you. Memory wipes are quite tricky. I can’t imagine that you’ve had a lot of practice at them.” His smile widened as he waited for me to backpedal. Memory spells were not covered in my self-defense-only agreement and I was about to hang myself if I admitted a second time to using it.
My gaze never wavered from him. “As Simon Thorn could at one time attest, I am talented. My brother’s memory has been wiped.”
The murmur of conversation behind me picked up again for a couple seconds before one of the council members pounded his staff on the stone floor. The warlock who had spoken smiled at me, his grin nearly sharklike. He thought he had me, and he was probably right, but I wasn’t done yet.
“My brother’s memory has been wiped,” I repeated, my voice rising strong and firm. “He has no memory of Reave, myself, or my family. I gave him a new name, appearance, and past that he doesn’t question. He was sent from the city where he lived and I have no idea where he will settle.”
“A very pretty attempt at protection,” Henry Fox commented, sounding bored, but I knew better. His mind was already turning over the spells that he could use to track down Robert. It would take time, but he could do it.
I grinned at him, looking sharklike myself. “I also gave him insurance.” Fox’s satisfied look crumpled to a frown and even the dandy seemed to be paying closer attention now. “He has the coordinates tattooed on his body in code, though not currently visible to the naked eye. However, if he should die unexpectedly and there is even a hint of magic surrounding him at the time, not only will the tattooed coordinates appear on his body, but they will also appear on ten different people every day for the next ten years. And should they die in a similar manner, the spread will be amplified. There will be no stopping the spread of information if he is harmed. My brother will not be hunted.”
The conversation in the chamber rose to a deafening roar as the gathered mass realized that the council had been outmaneuvered. No one did such a thing, and certainly not some rogue who had turned his back on the Towers. It took several minutes of pounding on the floor and few shouted threats to get the room back under control.
If I wasn’t looking at my own death sentence, I would applaud your efforts, Gideon whispered telepathically. Surprisingly, he didn’t sound angry. I was hoping that it was because he understood why I did what I did, and maybe knew he would have done the same thing to protect his family.
“Powell,” the black witch said on a sigh when the silence had returned. She was frowning, looking as if she had aged ten years since I had entered the chamber. She probably wanted to smack me, and I couldn’t blame her. “You’re a devious bastard, which only makes it seem fitting that you wound up with Thorn since he was a devious bastard as well. Through your actions, you’ve handed yourself to us on a silver platter. You’ve broken the agreement not to use magic beyond self-defense, and yet I can’t shake the feeling that you’ve still got one more card to play. Shall we get on with it?”
It was a struggle not to grin at her, but I managed, keeping my face empty. A wistful thought wandered through my brain: if she had been my mentor when I came to the Towers, I might have stuck around a little longer.
“You need me,” I said, shoving my hands into the front pockets of my battered jeans.
Laughter exploded throughout the room, which helped to ease some of the growing tension, but it crept back into the room as everyone slowly realized that I was completely serious. Seats creaked as people nervously shifted while the council members frowned.
“The information leak should have impressed upon you that the Towers are no longer in tune with the events occurring in the rest of the world,” I continued when silence had returned. “The people of the world have gotten better at hiding their secrets from you because time has taught them your tricks. They fear you, that will never change, but they’ve found new ways to work around you. Reave’s accumulation of information couldn’t have happened overnight; it required the passage of weeks if not years. Yet the Towers didn’t discover it until he had all the locations. Simply put, you’re dangerously out of touch.”
To my surprise, none of the orbs glowed red. Instead, faces turned red and some members shifted in their seats. They were uncomfortable. I wasn’t telling them anything they hadn’t already realized and had begun to worry about.
“We don’t need you, traitor.” The pregnant-looking warlock sneered, but he gave no other argument because he had none.
“In fear, members of the Towers destroyed an entire city to kill one person when it would have been more effective to have killed him quietly and secretly without arousing the suspicions of the world,” I said, careful not to blame the destruction of Indianapolis on the council. “Now the world is wary. People have scattered like cockroaches with the light flipped on. They’ll be harder to find, harder to kill.” I smiled, letting an evil glint enter my expression. “You need me living among them, sifting through the rumors to protect the safety of the Towers.”
“Why do you wish to protect the Towers?” the dandy asked. The mocking look had been wiped from his face and he seemed to be taking a new interest in me.
“I’d rather not see another city destroyed,” I said, and then sighed, hating to admit something else, but it was the truth. “And despite our differing opinions on . . . Tower culture . . . I do believe in the dedicated study of the art. But that can’t be done if you’re constantly worrying about what the rest of the world is plotting.”
“And you’re offering your services as a spy?” The dandy looked supremely amused, barely holding back his laughter.
“In exchange for my life,” I said with a small bow, hiding my face when I was sure I was going to be sick. I was trying to trade servitude to Reave for slavery to the Towers. Not an improvement. When I could breathe evenly, I straightened and smiled broadly. “Unless, of course, you want to leave the Towers to live among the people? Think you’ll get many volunteers?”
Turning sharply around, I faced the wall of spectators and spread my hands out toward them in invitation. “Who among you will leave the Towers to live among the people? Who will pack up their wands and give up magic to live in a quiet suburban house or a cramped one-bedroom apartment where the floor creaks and the faucet leaks? Who will stand in line at the grocery, rub elbows at the local bar, and get a job?”
The silence was deafening. No one moved. Hell, I don’t think anyone was breathing for fear that the council would volunteer them. I spun back to face the council, swallowing a shout of laughter.
“You’ve made your point, Mr. Powell,” the black witch grumbled, causing the smile to be wiped off my face. She glanced down at her fellow council members, frowning. “We will consider your offer.”
Now it was my turn to stop breathing. I had laid all my cards on the table, made my final move. There were no more tricks up my sleeve to save my life. It would either work, or I was going to end up dead along with Reave very shortly. I watched the orbs glowing orange as the council telepathically discussed everything that I had laid before them. While no one spoke, the mood seemed more animated this time, as warlocks and witches moved in their seats and facial expressions changed. Only the dandy on the end remained still, his expression never changing. He sat back in his chair, holding his staff with one hand while he stared unblinking at me.
Minutes ticked by one after another in an ever-thickening tension. I didn’t know if it was a good sign or a bad one. If they decided too quickly, would it mean they had ruled against me? If it took too long, would they go to a verbal vote? I wasn’t counting on a verbal vote ending in my favor, and a tie would be worse, as I would be imprisoned until the new council member cast the deciding vote.
When I was sure that I would explode from impatience, the glowing orbs dimmed and everyone straightened in their chairs. No one was smiling.
“You’ve left us with a quandary, Mr. Powell,” the witch commented. “You’ve admitted to breaking your agreement and casting forbidden magic, but you’ve done the Towers a great favor and offered your services, which I’m sure you find quite distasteful.” She paused, her frown deepening. “Killing you is the easy answer, but then we would feel as if we had been . . . ungrateful for your assistance. It may also show the rest of the Towers that we don’t appreciate the vigilance of our fellow warlocks and witches in our protection. We have decided on leniency, this one time.”
“Thank you.” I sighed with relief as I bowed deeply to them.
“I would hold your appreciation until you’ve heard our terms,” she sharply continued, causing an uneasy flutter in my chest. “We will accept your offer. You will become the eyes and ears of the council while living among the people. You will execute our edicts, punish those who threaten us, and deliver those who need to be questioned by the council.”
I took a step back, frowning. “You make it sound as if I am to be included as a part of the guardians.”
The guardians were the enforcement arm of the Towers. When the people shook in terror at the Towers, the guardians were the group they were usually thinking of. This was bad. I had been thinking of something less obtrusive and deeply hidden. The council’s agreement meant that I was back to killing and torturing people for the Towers.
“That can’t be because I’d have to be considered an inhabitant of the Towers to take on such a role,” I said, shaking my head.
She said nothing. She stared at me with cold, dead eyes. I wanted to scream at them all, but I couldn’t because I couldn’t catch my breath. As the truth hit me, I started hyperventilating. To survive, I had to take their offer, which meant that I was a part of the Towers again. I was one of them. I was back.
Nearly a decade ago, I had fought my mentor, nearly killed him, and nearly died in the process to break free. I had survived a hearing before the council. I lost my family, survived repeated assassination attempts, and lay hidden, lying to the world for years. All of it to escape the Towers. And now I had to choose between death and willingly returning to the enemy’s ranks. The killing I had sworn against doing would only be the tip of the iceberg once I was at the beck and call of the council. If they wanted me to live among the people, they wouldn’t give away my secret, but I’d still have to look at myself in the mirror each day, remembering the lives I destroyed for them. The life I had built was slipping through my fingers.
I drew in a deep, fragmented breath, trying to stop my hyperventilating. I was on my knees on the cold, black floor, but I couldn’t remember how I had gotten there. A cold sweat covered me and I was so light-headed that the room seemed to sway.
Gideon’s dress shoes came into view. He couldn’t touch me, offer any comfort without giving himself away, but knowing he was close kept me from feeling quite so alone in that ocean of cold, black stone. His presence was a silent reminder that he was a guardian and yet he maintained a secret life that was a place of love and happiness with a wife and daughter. He had found ways around the council’s orders. He was quietly helping the runaways. Yes, he did horrible things for the Towers, but he also did positive things that were protecting lives—namely mine.
If I agreed to serve the council, I could help people like Gideon. I could do more than I was able to do now. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to face myself at the end of the day. Sadly, as I sat there staring at the shine on Gideon’s shoes, I knew I had already decided. I was sick with the thought, but the truth was that I was desperate to live.
When I spoke, the words were so ragged they sounded as if they had been torn from my chest. “If I accept, will I be reinstated to the full privileges of a Tower member?”
The silence stretched but I didn’t look up. They were discussing my question among themselves. My question covered a multitude of sins, but my main concern was being permitted to use all forms of magic again, and they knew it.
The witch’s voice washed over me, sounding less harsh than it had been earlier. “Not yet. This will be on a trial basis. If you prove yourself diligent and trustworthy, we will consider reinstating all your privileges. For now, you may use magic only in self-defense and in relation to a task done in service to the council.”
I frowned. The door wasn’t closed on the topic, but reinstatement to full privileges was looking unlikely. On the other hand, the witch had given me a nice amount of gray area to work in, definitely more breathing room than I had had before.
“Will I retain a warden?”
“Yes.”
“Not Toussaint,” I said sharply, trying to infuse as much anger and hatred into those two words as I could. I lifted my head and glared at the council. “He’s been a knife in my side for nearly a decade and I’ve had enough. His constant abuse and attempts at entrapment have gone against our agreement of live and let live. I want someone else!” By the time I was finished, I was on my feet; I didn’t have to fake the anger.
The “pregnant” warlock lounged in his chair and smiled broadly at me. “It seems Master Toussaint is doing an excellent job, so why should we relieve him of the task? He will remain your warden.” He had spoken without consulting any of the other council members and none would disagree with his decision out loud, though several looked like they wanted to.
My attempt at reverse psychology had been clumsy and ham-fisted, but it was all I could think of. I was afraid that if someone else was assigned to watch over me, the Towers would simply kill Gideon for his failure to curb my magic use. Luckily, the warlock who had just spoken had been so eager to see me suffer that he didn’t think about my possible motivations. I scowled at him, playing my part, but others didn’t look so convinced.
“For your first assignment,” the witch broke in, drawing my eyes back to her, “you will kill the dark elf for his attack on the Towers. And you will kill him with magic.”
Panic surged through my frame for a second and I even saw Gideon stiffen beside me. I knew why they’d decided this. Punishment for outmaneuvering them. I’d lose a year of my life for killing Reave with magic, and not one of the crappy ones off the end. It could be one of the good years right out of the goddamn middle. But it wasn’t losing a year of my life that bothered me. It was the fact that Lilith would have me in her clutches for two whole years since she was holding a chunk of my soul.
Of course, this was all assuming that my body would be preserved during the years I was dead. I couldn’t come back if I didn’t have a body to come back to.
I wanted to scream and rant at them. I wanted to tell them that they were handing me into the most dangerous being in existence—Lilith would use those two years to break free and I wouldn’t be able to stop it. But I knew they wouldn’t listen. They wouldn’t believe me when I told them she really existed and they would never believe anyone could be more powerful than the Towers. There was nothing I could do.
Not trusting my voice, I gave a jerky nod and turned toward Reave, who was watching me. He’d known he was going to die when Gideon and I brought him to the Towers. He’d had enough time to accept it. Hell, he’d probably known he was going to die the moment he embarked on this insane scheme. He was just disappointed that he didn’t take me down with him.
“Release him,” I barked. Gideon hesitated. I liked to think that he was mentally scrambling, trying to think of a way out for me, but in the end, the binding spell disappeared. There was no way out. If I didn’t do as they asked, they’d kill me. If Gideon did it for me, they’d kill both of us.
Reave balanced on one leg, the toe of his injured one barely touching the floor. His bearing was straight and his head was high as he stared me in the eyes. He was in pain but you couldn’t tell. I hated Reave. I hated him because he was behind the death of countless creatures. I hated him for tearing Robert out of my life. I hated him for all the harm he had done to Bronx. I hated him for helping to destroy the life I loved. But standing there as he was, with body straight and gaze unflinching, I had to respect him, and that was the only reason why I killed him as quickly as possible.
Gathering up a quick swell of energy, I thrust both my hands forward and Reave jerked as if I had plunged them through his chest. I clenched my fists together, gathering the energy around his heart, crushing it. The Svartálfar gasped, his eyes widening in pain, and then he collapsed, dead.
It took only seconds to kill him and it would cost me a year of my life. I could hear Lilith laughing maniacally in my head as she celebrated the second year I now owed her.
“Excellent,” the witch said, jerking my attention back to the council. “An agreement has been reached. All is settled. This meeting is adjourned.” She pounded her staff on the floor twice, signaling the end of the meeting. There was a low murmur of conversation as people either disappeared from the chamber or filed out of the room through one of the doors. The council members disappeared one after another. Except the dandy.
He smiled at me, sending a chill down my spine. “Next time you come before the council, you may want to consider dressing for the event, Master Powell.” He dipped his staff toward me and I could feel a wash of magic run down my body like someone had poured a bucket of cold water over my head. I held his gaze, refusing to flinch, until he disappeared. When I looked down, I found myself wearing a suit identical to the one Gideon had on.
I wanted to scream, and cry, and burn the whole f*cking place down. Instead, I looked over at Gideon to find him staring at the chair the dandy had sat in.
“Who was that?”
Gideon sighed, a sound that seemed to come up from the bottom of his soul. “Darius Courtland. You don’t want his attention. You definitely don’t want to be caught alone with him. He makes Thorn and Fox look like Boy Scouts.”
“Figured as much,” I muttered. That was about how my luck ran. There wasn’t anyone on the council I particularly wanted to face off against, but there was something about Darius that made my blood run cold with fear.
“I think he’s the one who killed Peter.” Gideon’s voice had dipped to a whisper, as if he was afraid that someone was listening, but we were now alone in the council chamber.
The warlock blinked and turned to face me. Sadness filled his eyes, making me feel uncomfortable, mostly because he was sad about the things I wasn’t yet letting myself think about. If there was anyone who knew what the agreement I had just made cost me, it was Gideon. I had a feeling that in the deep dark of the night, when he had his arms wrapped tightly around the waist of his secret wife as they cuddled in bed, he wished he had gotten out like me.
“Welcome home,” he said, a grim smile touching the corners of his mouth.
Oh God . . . I was back.