Page 49

Chapter 49

I headed out of the office and into the lounge but stopped abruptly as I crossed the threshold. Three things immediately alarmed me: firstly, Tristan was sprawled arrogantly on his sofa, his gaze pinned to me; secondly, his living-room door was shut and the layer of sleeping wards had been awakened and activated, and thirdly, there was a new rug on his floor. I doubted it was there because he’d felt the sudden urge to decorate. Goddess knew what active runes were hidden under it. He must have gone into the room seconds after Bastion had left it.

The runes shone on his walls; he must have just reactivated them. Dammit, why had I spent so long deactivating the office ones? I should have dealt with these runes too. I felt a frisson of fear as I examined them. That would teach me to lollygag behind .

I had walked straight into Tristan’s trap. I was imprisoned here unless he kindly stood still whilst I painted ezro on all his runes, which somehow I doubted he would. Being confined was reviving all sorts of prison memories for me but, unluckily for Tristan, those memories were kicking in my flight-or-fight reflex. With flight impossible, that only left one thing to do.

‘Amber,’ he greeted me.

‘You’re a bastard,’ I spat back. ‘A monster. How could you do that to all those poor creatures?’

He laughed. ‘I’ve done far worse. Don’t be so na?ve.’ His voice was condescending. ‘Where’s your pet griffin now, hmm?’ He looked at me with undisguised glee.

But there were things he didn’t know. Bastion was my familiar and we were bonded; even now my griffin was feeling my fear and panic and was no doubt heading straight back to me. And Bastion could rip through wards like anyone else could rip through paper. And I still had my athame in my ankle holster hidden under my swishy skirt.

I gave a hard tug on my bond and let Bastion feel the edge of panic that I was feeling from being trapped. I felt a rush of emotion roll back – anger mostly – and I knew that he was already on his way to me. He’d only been a minute, maybe two, ahead of me. I just needed to keep Tristan busy, and I didn’t think that would be difficult. He had a huge ego and, much as I didn’t want to stroke anything of Tristan’s, I’d do it if it kept me alive.

‘Your father protects you, you know? Pathetic really,’ he taunted, ‘You’re not one of us and you never will be. Honestly, Amber, healing creatures for free ? How pathetic can you get! You’re the laughing stock of all witches, not just the black ones.’

I smiled tightly. ‘And yet I bet none of you have the balls to mock me to my father’s face.’

That wiped the smile right off his face. ‘I’ve wanted to put you in your place for years ,’ he snarled. ‘What a fucking delight it was shoving you in that cell. And Mack wasn’t too gentle, was he? I told him my suspicions about you. He’ll definitely alibi me when I claim we walked in and found you already dead.’

He pushed up from the sofa and drew a wicked-looking blade from its scabbard. He was trying to get me to back onto the pentagram that was under the rug. But I’d seen the room before the rug had appeared and I wasn’t an idiot. Besides, stepping back from him wasn’t the answer here.

‘I’m going to slice you into little pieces, Amber DeLea.’ His smile had an edge of madness.

I reached up and grasped my amulet. ‘Anyone know anything about knife fighting?’ I asked, a shade desperately.

‘I’ve got you,’ one of the voices murmured. ‘ Relinquish hold.’

‘Relinquish hold of what?’

‘Yourself.’ She shoved me aside forcefully. Suddenly my hands were moving but I was no longer driving my own body.

I didn’t fight the sensation. The Goddess had gifted me the amulet and the spirits that resided in it; besides, Tristan’s knife was really big and if I wasn’t careful, I’d get really dead.

She – her name was Edith, though I didn’t know how I knew that – drew my athame from my ankle holster. Tristan laughed aloud. ‘Amber, Amber, Amber. We both know you don’t know how to wield that, honey.’ His voice dripped with condescension.

He was right, I didn’t – but Edith sure did. She moved my body with a precision I had never felt before, tipping me onto the balls of my feet, spreading my legs in a stance that I recognised as a fighting one.

Tristan snickered again then stepped forward, knife slashing towards me. Edith spun me effortlessly out of the way. Then, with a leap and a swirl of my skirts, I was behind Tristan. He whirled around, startled and off balance, and Edith made me kick him solidly in the balls.

He let out an agonised yowl and staggered back into his own pentagram trap. He didn’t realise at first what had happened and lunged towards me again, blade high, before he bounced off his own containment wards. He hadn’t wanted me to wriggle out of them so he’d done a solid job of drawing them up. He wasn’t incompetent, just evil, and now he was trapped in a prison of his own making. He could undo the runes, of course, but it would take time.

I nudged Edith and she willingly relinquished hold of me and sank back into the amulet. I glared at Tristan. ‘Don’t call me honey.’

‘What the fuck?’ He gaped at me.

The door exploded with such force that chunks of wood flew off its frame. Bastion stormed in, rage roaring through him with such strength that I felt my own anger rise. The closer we were, the more I felt his emotions; if I’d thought he was angry before, now I knew that anger was a mere trickle compared to this torrent.

He gave a screech that shouldn’t have come out of a human mouth. The pentagram that held Tristan had been designed to hold an enemy in place, not to stop a new threat from coming in, so he had no defence against Bastion except his knife – which was suddenly looking far smaller than it had a moment ago.

Bastion shifted into griffin form, closed the distance to Tristan and promptly ripped his throat out. Blood sprayed across the walls.

I sighed. ‘I had him contained,’ I grumped. ‘I was going to question him.’

Bastion shifted into human form, pushed me against the nearest wall and kissed me furiously. ‘He had you trapped. I felt your fear. I let you down.’ His anger was unabated but this time it was directed inwards.

‘Hey, none of that! I sent you ahead of me to help the imps. If I hadn’t dawdled to remove the wards none of this would have happened. I won’t let you blame yourself.’

‘You won’t let me?’ His voice was incredulous.

I raised my chin and looked into his golden eyes. ‘You heard me, griffin. I won’t let you. I do not accept your anger.’ I slid a hand around the back of his neck, ‘I will, however, accept your ardour.’

I pulled his head down and kissed him until his blood sang with something other than rage. Something much more fun.