Page 40 of Eternal Light (Fated in the Stars #5)

The Decayed Soul (Grayson)

“Well, hello, little Novice. I’d recognize those dulcet tones anywhere. I’m sorry to say that Winnie and Ansel can’t come to the phone right now,” Withers oozes, smug.

They can hear his footsteps on what sounds like concrete, then a door opening—and the soft sound of birdsong—before it shuts again.

“You bastard!” Luca yells, his blanket toga nearly falling to the ground.

“Ooh, it’s the sassy sidekick. How’s that little gift I left you feeling?”

“It’s not—”

“Where are Winnie and Ansel, you son of a bitch?” Nix cuts Luca off before he can reveal anything they don’t want Withers to know. Luca slams a hand over his mouth and grumbles behind it.

Withers chuckles. “Wouldn’t you like to know? I’m a little annoyed at you, little Novice. Messing around where you don’t belong. Was that you rummaging around in poor wee Ansel’s soul yesterday? It wasn’t very nice.”

“His soul isn’t yours to take,” Nix growls, fangs down, pure fury in his words.

“Oh, but it is. Promised to me with his very own lips. Children respond so well to a little bit of persuasion, and now, he’s almost used up.

Probably not worth the effort for that last little bit.

But his sister? If she weren’t so stubborn…

” He sighs, like this is life’s most challenging moment.

“Still, I’m sure she can be persuaded, don’t you?

And you’ve left me with just the right amount of leverage. ”

It’s not a surprise to Grayson that Winnie is holding out on whatever Withers is bringing to bear. She’d seen her brother deteriorate, and now that she knew what—who—the problem is, she won’t be led down that path…at least voluntarily.

It’s that thought that gives Grayson a jolt of worry. If Ignatius was right, then it’s entirely possible that Withers could make her do something she wouldn’t normally do.

But what wouldn’t she do to save her brother? They need to find them now.

Nix gets close to the phone in Finn’s hand, growling, “You leave her alone.”

“Ha. Now, what can I do for you? You left in a hurry after I was sick; sorry about that. Not the romantic evening I had planned.”

The surge of angry scents in the cottage’s small sitting room, including his own, makes Grayson’s nose burn.

Is Withers saying what it sounds like?

Grayson isn’t the only one looking at Nix’s stony face, and when he glances at Luca, he looks afraid. Whatever happened at Carnell’s has Nix pale, and combined, he and Luca smell like a burnt-out bakery.

“Attempted rape isn’t romantic, asshole. I’m sure your rotten evening was just what you deserved.”

Attempted rape?

Stomach turning, Grayson’s rage almost supersedes his iron control, but he forces his razor-sharp claws into his palms, and the pain brings him back before he blows their plan.

He isn’t the only one whose control is stretched to the limit. The scent of burnt black currants bursts in the small room, and Finn’s grip on the phone is so tight, the glass cracks in his hand.

They’re damned lucky the call doesn’t drop.

“Oh, but I heard you like it a little bit rough? Carnell was quite forthcoming. How does that make your alphas feel? Knowing that Carnell’s son—”

Grayson can’t listen to one more second without punching something or throwing up, or teleporting across Clearwater in search of Withers.

He’s sure his fury has colored his tone, but he somehow manages to keep his voice level, detached, and almost bored.

“Sorry to interrupt what I’m sure was going to be a riveting story, but I understand that you’ve been looking for me?”

“Well, there you are. I was wondering how long you were going to let your apprentice speak for you. I’d much rather make your acquaintance, sexy. Have you been hiding from little ole me? Makes me wonder why.”

His clamp on The Plain slips free, and Nix jerks at the sudden surge through their soul, but he stands firm, color in his cheeks and jaw clenched. He scrabbles for Grayson’s hand and reaches out for Luca with the other to ground him.

The Wolf hears the challenge in Withers’s tone. Added to the threats he’s made to Nix and Luca, he has had more than enough already—and they’re not even close to being done.

He’s only able to get the next words out after a deep breath, grounding himself with Nix’s touch.

“Avoid you? Why would I? I don’t even know who you are,” Grayson says, hoping he’s struck the right tone.

He looks at Gideon, and his mate’s mouth ticks up in approval.

There’s a loud crash on the other end of the line, and a small, muffled cry from Winnie. Nix jerks beside him, as if imagining Withers’s unique brand of cruelty being used against their new friends.

Grayson can’t think about them now; all his concentration is on keeping his magic from flying out along The Plain and trying to incinerate Withers—and probably himself—where he stands.

Instead, he siphons his surplus power into the old stone floor, its millennia of Earth’s magic still humming beneath his feet.

Completely unaware of Grayson’s struggle, the fool continues, his voice dripping with conceit.

“Let me introduce myself, then. I’m the most powerful magic user in the world at the moment. I can find anyone, anywhere, and make them do whatever. The. Fuck. I. Want. Even you.”

Nix rolls his eyes and audibly snorts.

He’s reminding Grayson that Withers couldn’t make him do a damn thing—and besides, they’re hidden at The Guild under the world’s best wards.

Jay signals Finn to hand the phone to Grayson, and the two of them head out the still-open back door—hopefully to gather reinforcements and figure out how to rescue Winnie and Ansel.

Beside him, Gideon types a note into his phone.

Stalling, Grayson hums, “Mmm. I’m confused. I heard you lost your license to practice magic.”

It has to be a sore spot, even if they don’t know the details. Appearing before The Guild and losing any legitimacy he once had must have been a hard pill to swallow—especially with an ego the size of the Florida panhandle.

“Those fucking idiots wouldn’t know greatness if it walked their halls.” He chuckles. “And I did. I have an Affinity for Mind Manipulation, amongst other things—and not one of them knew. Not one.

“All that: Poor Aleksander has a Biometric Compass Affinity. How impractical; a small Talent for fire. Oh dear, how will he make his way in the world? Wah, wah, wah. Boo hoo hoo. So many bleeding hearts. I’m glad to be fucking done with them.

On to bigger and better things, if you know what I mean? ”

Grayson has an inkling of what he means.

He’s seen Withers’s idea of bigger things. It’s sad to hear that the care his teachers once showed young Aleksander went so unappreciated. But Grayson doesn’t let misplaced sympathy distract him.

Gideon hands him his phone to show him the note.

“Poor little boy lost. Didn’t you get enough hugs?” Nix simpers, buying time.

“Rude, little Novice. Your master should show you how to respect your betters. Handsome, you must like them feisty.”

Nix bares his very impressive fangs at the “feisty” remark.

“Nix will show him feisty,” Leo mutters under his breath.

Grayson would laugh at the idea—how it would be the very last thing Withers would see, too.

A door closes on the other end of the phone, and the sound echoes, as if Withers had locked himself in a restroom. There’s the unmistakable sound of him relieving himself, a flush, and then the door opening again.

“He didn’t even wash his hands!” Luca whispers, horrified. “So gross.”

As if pee-germs were arguably worse than his general state of moral and physical decay.

“You shouldn’t talk shit, newbie. Your magic is much weaker than I expected, given what I’d tracked to that dingy apartment. I would’ve liked to see you try something. Give me an excuse to—”

“I’ll speak to him about his manners,” Grayson says, the next words already leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. “I have to admit, your work was…more intricate than I expected when I looked at Ansel’s soul.”

Leo fake-gags at hearing Grayson’s most charismatic voice used for such a blatant untruth. He hadn’t been impressed—he’d been sickened.

Rowan must agree, because he suddenly has enough of the objectionable repartee, and in a flash, he’s the Wolf.

If Grayson looks past his mate’s beautiful russet fur, he can see Rowan-wolf is made of magic. With the ruff along his back raised and the way he’s using his scent to fill the space with unhappy enigma-wolf pheromones, he seems larger than life.

“I should have known that was you and not your little Novice. It’s brilliant, right? Didn’t take long to perfect my technique either. So easy once you know what you’re doing—and if you don’t care about them living or dying.”

He laughs, but stops talking when Winnie’s phone beeps with a low-battery warning.

“Oh dear, my guest’s phone is dying. Won’t be the only thing doing that today, I’m afraid.”

Gideon makes a get-on-with-it motion, pointing to his phone notes. But Grayson knows this can’t be rushed. They’re so close.

“It was impressive. It got me thinking that maybe I should know how to do it. Everyone can use the occasional mega power boost.”

Nix’s eyes go wide, and he grabs Gideon’s phone to double-check that’s really what the other man wrote.

“Exactly! But now you’re just flattering me.” Duh . “I don’t share my secrets with just anyone. They sure don’t teach this at the Guild of Idiots. I’d be stupid to think you weren’t out to trick me.”

“Just because I’m saying nice things doesn’t make them less true. Perhaps you’d like to meet? We could get a drink, and you could let me show you how sincere I am. I could…show you my appreciation.”

Ew .

Luca starts theatrically gagging in earnest, pretending to swoon while still attached to Nix’s other hand.

Grayson wants to join him for real; there’s a tinge of bile at the back of his throat. His bonds with his mates—and his wolf—do not abide even the suggestion of infidelity.

But Withers doesn’t know that.

He’s quiet on the other end of the line.