stalked after Freya. But she could feel his gaze on her ass and couldn’t resist adding a slight sway to her walk.
This part of the Keep was a sprawling maze of interlocking courtyards connected by narrow alleyways, which twisted and turned. Little light penetrated but Tallon led the way easily; he knew the Keep better than the rest of them. Cass walked behind him with Freya and Shayla on either side of her. Callum and Jarrod brought up the rear.
They saw no one and finally they stepped out into the courtyard at the far north of the Keep and stood at the base of the tower.
A round structure built out of the same black rock, it reached to the sky like a pointing finger. According to Freya, this was where they brought the baby girls soon after birth, to be stripped of their magic. It stood tall, looming over the rest of the Keep, a dark sym-bol of misery. Despair and guilt washed through her. She forced it down; guilt was self-indulgent. It wouldn’t help them now.
A plain black door at the base faced into the courtyard. Tallon stepped forward but the door swung open before he reached it.
Her breath caught in her throat as men spilled out into the courtyard. Cass counted at least twenty and each carried a sword and a staff.
And behind them Malachai stepped out, tall with dark hair and dark eyes, his staff held out in front of him. When she’d known him before, he’d been careful to hide what he was; now, nothing could hide the miasma of evil hanging over him.
He hesitated when he saw Cass, his eyes widening. No doubt, he’d believed her long dead. Deep, dark hatred rolled over her and she reached for her magic.
And nothing.
Beside her, Callum stepped closer and rested a hand on her arm. She cast him a brief forced smile, to show she was okay. But she wasn’t; the moon magic refused to respond to her call. And without her magic, she’d be useless.
Was this the end? “Kill them,” Malachai ordered.
But before they could make a move, figures flooded out of the alleyways around the courtyard. Women. Some dressed in black showing they were house slaves, others in the scarlet of the pleasure slaves. They came to stand between their group and the warlocks. A tall woman, in red, stepped out. Her body trembled but her voice was firm. “You’ll have to kill us first.”
“Not a problem,” Malachai snarled.
This could turn into a bloodbath. But Cass could see the warlocks were not happy. They glanced from one to another, small frowns flickering across their faces. Obviously, they didn’t like the idea of killing unarmed women—besides, who would they get to suck their cocks if they slaughtered the pleasure slaves? Malachai moved closer. “Do you know who this is?” he asked, waving a hand in Cass’s direction. “This is the woman responsible for destroying this world. The woman responsible—”
“Liar,” Freya shouted.
Malachai’s mouth clamped shut as he stared at her his eyes black with hatred.
“You know who’s responsible,” Freya continued. “Responsible for everything that has happened on Arroway.”
“Silence her.” Malachai growled the words. He lifted his staff and spoke a word, aiming a killing spell at Freya, but she lifted her hand and deflected it with ease.
“You.” She pointed her finger at Malachai. “You have brought this world to the very brink of destruction.” A movement at the edge of the courtyard caught Cass’s attention. Three figures strode toward them. More warlocks by the looks of them. Great.
Tallon edged closer. “They are the council members,” he said in a low voice. “The leader, Roark, is a good man—we need to convince him to listen to us.”
“Malachai,” the tallest of the men spoke, “what is the meaning of this?”
“Intruders.” Malachai’s tone was silky smooth. “No problem, Roark. I’ll deal with them.”
“And the slaves?” Malachai’s hands fisted at his side. “They will be dealt with as well.” The man, Roark, studied
This part of the Keep was a sprawling maze of interlocking courtyards connected by narrow alleyways, which twisted and turned. Little light penetrated but Tallon led the way easily; he knew the Keep better than the rest of them. Cass walked behind him with Freya and Shayla on either side of her. Callum and Jarrod brought up the rear.
They saw no one and finally they stepped out into the courtyard at the far north of the Keep and stood at the base of the tower.
A round structure built out of the same black rock, it reached to the sky like a pointing finger. According to Freya, this was where they brought the baby girls soon after birth, to be stripped of their magic. It stood tall, looming over the rest of the Keep, a dark sym-bol of misery. Despair and guilt washed through her. She forced it down; guilt was self-indulgent. It wouldn’t help them now.
A plain black door at the base faced into the courtyard. Tallon stepped forward but the door swung open before he reached it.
Her breath caught in her throat as men spilled out into the courtyard. Cass counted at least twenty and each carried a sword and a staff.
And behind them Malachai stepped out, tall with dark hair and dark eyes, his staff held out in front of him. When she’d known him before, he’d been careful to hide what he was; now, nothing could hide the miasma of evil hanging over him.
He hesitated when he saw Cass, his eyes widening. No doubt, he’d believed her long dead. Deep, dark hatred rolled over her and she reached for her magic.
And nothing.
Beside her, Callum stepped closer and rested a hand on her arm. She cast him a brief forced smile, to show she was okay. But she wasn’t; the moon magic refused to respond to her call. And without her magic, she’d be useless.
Was this the end? “Kill them,” Malachai ordered.
But before they could make a move, figures flooded out of the alleyways around the courtyard. Women. Some dressed in black showing they were house slaves, others in the scarlet of the pleasure slaves. They came to stand between their group and the warlocks. A tall woman, in red, stepped out. Her body trembled but her voice was firm. “You’ll have to kill us first.”
“Not a problem,” Malachai snarled.
This could turn into a bloodbath. But Cass could see the warlocks were not happy. They glanced from one to another, small frowns flickering across their faces. Obviously, they didn’t like the idea of killing unarmed women—besides, who would they get to suck their cocks if they slaughtered the pleasure slaves? Malachai moved closer. “Do you know who this is?” he asked, waving a hand in Cass’s direction. “This is the woman responsible for destroying this world. The woman responsible—”
“Liar,” Freya shouted.
Malachai’s mouth clamped shut as he stared at her his eyes black with hatred.
“You know who’s responsible,” Freya continued. “Responsible for everything that has happened on Arroway.”
“Silence her.” Malachai growled the words. He lifted his staff and spoke a word, aiming a killing spell at Freya, but she lifted her hand and deflected it with ease.
“You.” She pointed her finger at Malachai. “You have brought this world to the very brink of destruction.” A movement at the edge of the courtyard caught Cass’s attention. Three figures strode toward them. More warlocks by the looks of them. Great.
Tallon edged closer. “They are the council members,” he said in a low voice. “The leader, Roark, is a good man—we need to convince him to listen to us.”
“Malachai,” the tallest of the men spoke, “what is the meaning of this?”
“Intruders.” Malachai’s tone was silky smooth. “No problem, Roark. I’ll deal with them.”
“And the slaves?” Malachai’s hands fisted at his side. “They will be dealt with as well.” The man, Roark, studied
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