Deadly Sweet Page 22

  “Are you kidding?” Brioche was my favorite bread, easy. Anything baked with that much butter would always be amazing.

  I crossed through the ward to grab the bag and lean against the railing next to Seth. A Servant hovered at the doorway, and the others all stared through the windows, so I’d be safe as long as I stayed on the porch.

  Trying to act like a reasonable human person, I didn’t let myself tear into the bag like I wanted. Channeling all the patience I’d saved this lifetime, I slowly unfolded the paper. Then, I grabbed the first brioche my greedy fingers could reach.

  It tasted like flaky, buttery, heaven.

  I cupped a hand under the bread to catch any precious crumbs as I gobbled down a second bite and my eyes rolled back. “This is…” Words failed. So good.

  The best brioche in the history of brioches?

  I tried to chew slowly, but the whole thing was gone in a few bites. As I licked crumbs from my fingers, I debated whether I could grab for seconds without being piggy. But I was piggy. Especially when there was something this delicious to eat.

  Seth pushed off the railing and stepped in front of the doorway, but I was too busy gazing longingly at the rest of the brioche to pay much attention to what he was doing. Sweat prickled the back of my neck

  One brioche, two brioche, three brioche, four.

  I just had one, and I’m gonna have more…

  Why I was rhyming, I had no idea. I reached for another brioche, but all of a sudden my fingertips felt numb and—

  Oh, shit.

  The bag dropped.

  Seth’s grin iced my soul. He leaned close, voice low. “Not bad for a last meal, right?”

  Shit.

  I didn’t just eat poison…

  Yes, you did.

  Idiot!

  Idiot idiot idiot.

  I tried to wave for the Servants, but my arms wouldn’t respond. My elbow had hooked around one of the porch beams, otherwise I’d be on my face.

  Magic. I could still…

  But I couldn’t reach for my power any more than I could reach for help. No amount of trying made it work. It was like my tendons had been severed on a spiritual level.

  Paralysis.

  Enough to kill me?

  Why was Seth still standing around?

  To watch me die?

  Shit.

  The panic sledgehammering behind my breastbone slowly faded. The worst sign yet. I couldn’t black out. Not an option. The Servants had to see me slumping. Any minute they’d rush out and—

  Seth calmly placed a rock in front of the doorway.

  A flat, black stone.

  Red-black magic burst, lighting up the night, and for a split-second I spotted the dome Seth had just formed around the bookshop.

  A ward. Not just a ward, but a full-on barrier. No one inside would be able to cross.

  My lips wouldn’t move to warn the Servants. The closest one lunged. His skull knocked into the ward like he’d head-butted a concrete wall and he stumbled three steps back before falling to the floor.

  Dead?

  Disanimated?

  I must’ve twitched in panic, because my arm came unhooked from the beam. My body swung, weight giving me momentum, and I tumbled down the three steps to land face-up on the sidewalk.

  I couldn’t feel a thing.

  Not a bump. Not a scratch.

  Seth appeared over me as the world blackened around the edges. “Don’t sleep too long.”

  A scream bubbled up from the depths of my soul, but I couldn’t even croak.

  What would he do to me when I woke up?

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Something cold touched my cheeks, but I couldn’t see yet.

  Please be the hospital.

  As feeling returned, my body parts checked in one at a time. None of them had good news.

  Floor, hard underneath my side.

  Hands, tied so tight behind my back they were sticky. With blood?

  Back, aching.

  Everything bruised.

  Bile clawed up my throat. This isn’t the hospital.

  I peeked through my lashes, but I already knew.

  The floor was laminate tile. I faced the baseboard under a cabinet. It could’ve been anywhere except for the runes carved into the wood.

  Seth’s apartment.

  I shivered so hard my feet kicked.

  Then I froze.

  Be still. I couldn’t let him know I was—

  “Wakey, wakey.”

  Another body-rocking shiver I couldn’t control. My muscles trembled as I lifted my head.

  I lay on Seth’s kitchen floor, surrounded by a ring of humming black stones. Seth sat with his elbows on his knees on a barstool.

  His frigid gaze pierced so deep I could practically feel ice flakes crystalizing in my bloodstream.

  Fearing what I’d find, I stretched a leg toward the stones. Magic jangled with the sound of wasps as soon as my toe neared, and the first pins and needles started to prick.

  Another ward. I doubted I could break through it but I’d have to try.

  Just not yet.

  For now, I eased onto my knees, wincing when my tied wrists screamed. It would’ve been a cookie-cutter apartment with mismatched furniture and bland wallpaper—but Seth had scrawled runes everywhere.

  Warding symbols.

  On the walls. On the cabinets. The floors. Some carved into wood, some in chalk or black paint.

  And now that I was sitting up…

  Symbols lined the circle he’d trapped me inside.

  Complicated symbols. Runes and twisting lines. I didn’t know their language, but I didn’t need to. The purpose was clear enough.

  They were drawn in blood.

  He’d positioned me in a small circle of blood, surrounded by lines that pointed toward his stool, which was centered in a circle of its own.

  The pattern made the truth deadly clear. Seth meant to make me his Hand.

  No.

  I jerked forward.

  A wall of power hit me before I got anywhere near the stones. Red sparks crackled against my skin like tiny whip-strikes.

  Reflexes forced me to yank myself backward, gasping for air. Red lines crisscrossed my knees. Going by the sting, the marks sliced my face, neck, and all the rest of my bare skin.

  “You won’t be able to break my barrier. No one in the Syndicate could” Seth’s voice dripped such smug condescension that I sank in on myself. I’d believed him. Believed his lies, like the biggest idiot. “You’ve probably noticed that warding is one of my gifts?”

  No shit. He must’ve had his body tightly warded this whole time or someone would’ve noticed his energy a long time ago. He was crazy talented to manage such a strong shield.

  “Agatha shattered your stone like it was nothing.” If she could, maybe I could. Although she’d been dealing with one stone, wielded by a Hand. I made a quick count and my gut roiled.

  Thirteen stones surrounded me now.

  And the warlock himself, who laughed straight in my face. “I like you, Anise. You really know your place.”

  Shame ran hot through my veins. I’d never once suspected Seth could be anything but genuine. “I spoke up for you. I even asked Agatha to hire you. I—” My voice choked off.

  If my hands weren’t tied, I’d punch myself in the teeth.

  Stupid.

  “You’ve been such a peach, it would be a waste to kill you. Once you’re my Hand, you’ll be able to send Agatha all kinds of messages for me.” He smiled way too wide, finally leaking the madness I’d been too dumb to sense. His eyes crinkled, still that piercing blue.

  Too blue to be anything but contacts.

  How wide were his pupils under there?

  Ugh.

  I tried to yank against the binds on my hands, but there was no give to whatever was keeping me tied. From the feel, I guessed zip cords.

  If it was rope, I could burn free.

  My magic still felt a little numb inside me�
��I’d have to push to reach it—but a few more seconds and I’d be able to burn his whole building to the ground. I just needed to stall long enough to catch my magical breath.

  It would be easy to get him to talk about himself. Warlocks were all about their grudges and I definitely understood Seth’s now.

  Whether I could stomach the conversation…

  There’s no choice. I needed a second so the room would stop spinning. Then I could make my move.

  “Please. I asked Agatha to hire you. I’ll tell her again how talented—”

  “Begging?” Seth’s laugh cut me off cold. “You didn’t even make me ask.” He moved to crouch at the edge of the stone circle “I almost wish I could keep you.”

  I froze. What was he doing?

  This close, the scent of his cologne crawled up my nose. I knew to stay still. Not to make any movements that would make him hurt me. Just freeze.

  “You’re a sweetheart, Anise. So much better than the last apprentice. That lying—” His hands balled into fists and he shook, taken over by the sudden wave of rage. “She wouldn’t look at me. Wouldn’t help. But she paid the price. Now Agatha’s due.”

  Hayley. I swallowed a glob of dread. Killing her must’ve turned him warlock. Unless she hadn’t been his first victim? “Why?”

  “Why?” Seth’s voice dropped low with anger. “Why did Hayley get the chance that should’ve been mine? Why did you?” Spit flew from his mouth as the questions spat from his lips. “Why does Agatha think she runs this town? Who gave her the right? Who?”

  I tasted poison brioche as my stomach turned upside down. Somehow, I didn’t vomit, but my vision wobbled. How had he kept the crazy hidden so well?

  My vision pitched like I was on the tilt-a-whirl of death. Stalling was making me feel worse instead of better. The feel of Seth’s wards was a constant, nasty hum and there had to be multiple layers of warding by the amount of magical pressure squeezing me tight. One in the stone circle, maybe another layer the kitchen itself, and definitely one hiding the whole apartment. Layers upon layers of iron-tight wards, cooping me up with an unhinged warlock.

  But the spell—

  Damnit.

  The symbols drawn in blood had started to glow while I wasn’t paying attention.

  Seth’s magic was already working. Already trying to overpower me. I rubbed my knee against the closest line on the off chance I could disturb his spell, but magic had sunk the blood into the wood like a stain.

  “You finally noticed?” He moved to his stool and leaned back, folding his hands behind his head. “Won’t be much longer. Then the real fun begins.”

  His voice sounded like honey compared to the evil hum of his power. It had the tiniest hint of compulsion, and I leaned forward, literally hanging on his words. The cockroach-legs of his magic were already inside my veins, skittering through my blood. He’d hollow me out and make my body his own.

  Hell.

  No.

  I’d die before I let myself be turned into a puppet. Especially his puppet.

  I had one well of power left in my ear and Seth wouldn’t be expecting a fight. But where to attack? My thoughts fuzzed.

  I didn’t have long to choose.

  The wards? The Syndicate might find me if I could punch through.

  But the wards were so strong, and working with rocks wasn’t my strong point. I could try the zenith of the barrier, right above my head—it was always the weakest point of a warding—but even then. Not a safe bet that I could win

  Flames were my only choice. I might not be able to burn through such a powerful ward, but I could for sure burn through the floor.

  I gathered what willpower I had left and felt for the magic in the core of my soul.

  Fire.

  As I called to flame, I reached for the well.

  Burn this dungeon to ashes. I gritted my teeth and sent the fire pouring out.

  It rolled out of me, crashing into the ward like waves of lava. The ward didn’t budge and not one lick of fire snuck through the barrier.

  Sweat beaded on my brow. This is okay. It will work.

  “What are you—”

  The laminate popped and peeled.

  Thank the Gods and Goddesses.

  He’d only warded a dome instead of protecting the floor or anything underneath. If I burned the floor out, it would disturb the stones and the ward would fail. That would still leave me in the middle of a burning building, but it was better than anything else I had.

  Burn, flames.

  I bit down hard and channeled everything I had until the well ran dry and I had to start pulling from my life force. Sweat dripped down my back and smoke filled the dome, trapped inside the ward.

  Smoke. Hadn’t considered that.

  I choked, vision blurring.

  Coughing.

  Nose running.

  Wood creaked over the popping of the flames. I’d cracked the floor.

  The boards gave.

  I thunked down the four inches between the floorboards and foundation. The flames followed me, pouring out and lighting up the spaces between floor joists. The fire whooshed brighter with access to more oxygen.

  And kicked up that much more smoke. The ward hadn’t come down yet, but it would. I fed and fed the fire, willing the floor into a sea of lava. Finally, the stones dropped and the ward shattered. Flames exploded and the bubble of smoke burst into the apartment.

  Thank goodness.

  I couldn’t see Seth through the cloud. If he was smart, he was already fled.

  Flames ate up the walls and my eyelids fluttered.

  Hot. Choking.

  Couldn’t breathe. No magic left to feed the flames or put them out. Silver glowed under my skin. Sylvia? Her protective spell?

  Even if it delayed the inevitable, I was dying. I tried to pull myself out of the burning hole in the floor, but my arms were still bound. Lifting my head meant more smoke. More choking. Lungs burning until I saw stars.

  Should I be afraid?

  Instead, a deep calm blanketed me.

  Death wasn’t my first choice, but I’d rather be dead than live to see a warlock controlling my body.

  My shoulders sagged with release as the smoke took over.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  I was hot.

  Then cold.

  Only the dark stayed constant.

  Like a weighted-down comforter pressing me into nothing.

  Disorienting, but comfy in a weird way.

  Smoke—or was it fog?—drifted through my brain until a breeze kicked up.

  White light streamed from above.

  Dead?

  The brightness burned my eyes. When I lifted a hand to shield them, I knew I’d survived.

  How? Where…

  Seth.

  My arms started to shake.

  “Anise? Anise?” A blurry form appeared over me. “Someone find Jane.”

  I tried to focus on the woman’s voice, but my eyes were milky.

  “Calm down.” Gentle hands pressed my shoulders. A different voice. “Cupcake? Are you with us?”

  Agatha.

  I relaxed, feeling the pillow behind my head. Tubes, cold against my arms and legs. The steady beep, beep, beep of the hospital monitor. And a wall of warmth and power.

  My eyes creaked open.

  Agatha stood over me, her face lined deep with recent stress. Behind her, stood Blair with tears wet on her soot-streaked cheeks. Peggy’s voice echoed from the hallway as she berated the mass of gathered Servants.

  I didn’t dare move yet, so I didn’t tilt my head, but I felt Wynn to my left. He’ll be furious.

  He could glower all he wanted. It wouldn’t touch how mad I was at myself.

  “Seth—” The sound ripped up my throat.

  Agatha patted my arm. “We know.”

  “Where—”

  “He got away.” Blair pushed to the front of the crowd of Servants. “I’m so sorry. Now—” Her voice cracked.

  My
heart rate kicked up. Blair was sorry? For what?

  “Anise…” Agatha let out a breath. “You nearly died.”

  That was all? I relaxed into the bed.

  I could’ve told them that.

  “You would’ve died.” Peggy strode into the room, glaring at her daughter. “If Blair hadn’t already used her powers on you. She was able to sense you nearing death and hold you from crossing over.”

  Yikes. Necromancy still wasn’t my favorite thing, but if it had saved my bacon, I wasn’t going to complain.

  “There she is.” A nurse pushed through the growing crowd at my bedside before Peggy could continue. The woman wore lavender scrubs and her dark hair braided back and pinned. She looked so different than the past few times I’d seen her that it took me a second before I processed her face—high cheekbones and deep amber eyes. Jane from the Syndicate.

  She was a nurse?

  After checking the readings on my machines, she picked up my hand and closed her eyes. Her energy was white with hints of pale green—bud green. The cool touch of it instantly soothed my aches.

  A nurse and a healer. I wasn’t surprised, but I was definitely grateful. I’d inhaled enough smoke that I should probably still be conked out or worse without magical help.

  “Blair shielded you from any critical injuries, but you’re looking at a rough recovery.” Jane patted my hand before pulling back. “Between the necromancy and the warlock magic you were exposed to, your spirit took a beating.”

  Speaking of shielded…

  I finally glanced at the other side of the bed.

  Wynn sat in the hospital chair.

  Expression flat.

  No glare. No scowl. His face was perfectly neutral and smooth, minus a little stubble. He had to be pissed, but he wouldn’t make eye contact. That made me more uneasy than if he’d reamed me out. I was waiting for someone to tell me this was my fault. That I should’ve put one and two together. If no one was even annoyed, there was nothing to distract from the guilt and shame simmering in the pit my stomach.

  “Rest.” Jane’s energy flowed over me like warm milk.

  My eyelids started to ease closed…

  “No!” I jerked upright and pain flashed, but I gritted through. If I let myself be lulled, everyone would rush off to deal with Seth while I slept through the fight. “Let me help. Please. I don’t think you’ll be able to find him without me.”