Page 30

I’d forgotten about his accent. In my mind, he sounds like a stereotypical villain from a Hollywood film. In reality, his voice is pure northern, to an even more pronounced degree than my family, like Sean Bean in every role he’s ever played.

“I’m sorry, have we met?” It’s anyone’s guess how I get the words out through my rapidly constricting throat.

Connor takes a firm hold of my arm and steps in front of me. “Leave it, Thornber. Kate’s just doing her job. She’s not from round here. She doesn’t deserve to get dragged into this.”

“What’s going on?” I stage whisper to Connor. “Who is this?”

Even as I fight to keep up the act, I know how naïve we’ve been. Of course he’ll see through me. He has spies everywhere. He can scry. And if all of that wasn’t enough to allow him to penetrate anyone else’s disguise, in my case, there’s also the connection he forged through the lien mark and perhaps through the magic exchange, too.

“This is Niall Thornber’s son,” Connor whispers back, leaning towards me but never taking his eyes off Gabriel. “Head of the family, since whatever Brendan did or didn’t do to the old man.”

Gabriel glances behind him. “Everyone except Nikki, get out of here. I’ll see you back at the manor.”

His date pouts. “But babe, I thought we were going on to the casino.”

One of the men takes her arm and hustles her away before Gabriel can respond. They walk as a group back towards the side street, then convey out en masse, leaving only the woman who’d stood out for her darker skin and heavier clothes. Nikki, presumably. She stands by the entrance to the courtyard with her arms crossed, like she’s preparing to defend a strategic pass in a medieval battle.

Gabriel steps closer. Connor’s grip tightens. To the best of his knowledge, he’s protecting a valuable but vulnerable lawyer. Easy to do if human thugs or a Thornber minion starts something. Not so easy if Gabriel abandons all reason and decides to fight his own battles.

“My dearest Connor,” Gabriel says. “It’s you who doesn’t deserve to get dragged into this. She’s already front and centre. I’d hate to see you lay down your life for a woman you know nothing about, so let me reduce that risk.”

Connor is strong, both physically and psychically. In the case of pretty much anyone else—bar perhaps my father or Brendan—he’d have been able to laugh off their threats. But Gabriel’s eyes narrow, Connor’s grip on my arm slackens, and I’m genuinely scared.

I spare Connor a split-second glance. He’s not unconscious, just frozen in place. Knocking him out would have been kinder than making him watch whatever’s coming while he’s powerless to do anything about it, but who’s naïve enough to expect mercy from Gabriel-fucking-Thornber?

“Now your bodyguard’s out of commission, how about we play a little game,Kate?”

I look him straight in his now-glowing golden eyes, trying to pretend I’m not feeling physically sick with fear. “What on earth’s going on? I’m not here toplay games. I’m here to represent my client. And intimidating the defence lawyer in the trial of your father’s supposed murderer is not going to help matters.”

I’m pleased I manage to sound so professional, because inside, I’m shaking.

“Really, Sadie? You’re actually going to keep the act up? You’re honestly going to make me do this?”

I glance at Connor, expecting to see shock on his face at the sound of my real name, but his expression doesn’t change. Maybe Gabriel’s blocked his hearing as well as his movement, or—horrifyingly—perhaps he’s speaking directly into my mind.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I reply.

I’d expected a few more minutes of heated back and forth. Instead, he hits me with a wave of Greenfire.

The second it touches me, I scream like I’m being burnt at the stake.

I fight to regain a semblance of reason. The magic of Greenfire is that it’s utter agony in the moment. You genuinely feel like your flesh is about to melt off your bones, like you’re moments from death. But the second your assailant stops, the awful sensations falls away completely, as if someone’s flicked a switch. And there’s absolutely no physical injury done.

In our early teens, it’d been a bit of a challenge for me and my siblings to inflict the spell on each other. See who cracked first or who could put up the most resistance. My parents always hit the roof whenever they discovered we’d been playing that game. It was brutal, but that’s kids for you. Or perhaps that’s just my family.

I scream again. It’s been a long time since I’ve experienced the spell, and it really does hurt. But deep down, I know it’s basically an illusion, and that stops me completely losing control. When Greenfire is used on non-practitioners, it’s not uncommon for their heart to give out before the assault stops.

I close my eyes. I may not practice magic much anymore, but I’m still a practitioner by blood. That sort of mind trick won’t be happening to me. Even so, it’s agony. A few more minutes, and I’ll be begging him for mercy. The idea of that tortures me more than the pain.

“I don’t like hurting you,” Gabriel says, and through the onslaught, I can’t tell if he’s screaming it out loud or whispering it in my mind. “You can stop this with a thought, you know you can.”

He’s entirely correct. The magic is gentle, a tenth of the power Gabriel could surely produce if he really wanted to hurt me. Summon the slightest hint of my own power, and I could stop the pain. But fighting Greenfire isn’t just a case of resisting mesmerism. It’s more like putting out a fire with your mind, and that takes real magic, which would blow apart the last remnants of my cover. And at that point, he’d do a hell of a lot more than toy with me.

Despite my attempts to keep up the act, my performance in court surely made clear that I was a practitioner of some strength. But as long as I don’t trigger the lien, he has no proof I’m Sadie Sadler. So, I grit my teeth and let his magic burn me.

“I know who you are. Stop being ridiculous. Fight back.”

If there were any passers-by—which there aren’t, because the courtyard is deserted and no one is getting past Gabriel’s bodyguard—they wouldn’t see anything but Gabriel’s psychotic calmness and my agony. But I see the glowing ball of unreal flame that surrounds me. And Connor is surely able to as well.