Page 124 of Hexbound

"Damn you." Lucien moved for the circle, but Bishop grabbed his arm.

"Wait," he growled, under his breath. There was something strange about Sebastian.

"State your name," Agatha called, though she looked a little uneasy.

Sebastian stepped through the ring of red-hooded sorcerers, and leapt up into the slate circle, clearing the flames with inches to spare. He turned, gracing Ianthe with a dangerous smile. "Sebastian Montcalm."

Everyone could see his face now. There was no hiding the fact that he was Drake's son. Every line of his face was a perfect echo of their father's.

"And I am here to become Prime."

He turned to face Ianthe.

It wasthe longest moment of Bishop's life. He'd promised Verity he wouldn't hurt his half brother, but this... this was disaster. If Sebastian was challenging for the seat of Prime he'd win it, based solely on strength. And if he sat as Prime, then his mother would be pulling his strings.

Verity caught Bishop's arm as if sensing the thoughts racing through his mind. He shook his head at her. He had a duty to protect the Order. "I can't stand aside, Ver."

"Wait," called another voice, clear and ringing.

Heads turned. Cleo stepped forward, her gaze locked on Sebastian, even as her hands curled in her skirts as if she were nervous.

"You have something to say, gel?" Agatha prompted, resting both hands on the heavy staff. Drake stood at Agatha's side, staring at Sebastian as if he represented a puzzle Drake couldn't quite solve.

Something felt wrong. A chill ran down Bishop's spine. Even before Cleo said it, he knew exactly what the problem was.

"That isnotSebastian Montcalm," Cleo announced firmly, meeting Sebastian's suddenly glittering eyes. "It's his body, but he's... no longer inside it."

The demon.

Gasps echoed through the room. Bishop was watching his father, and he saw the moment Drake realized what had happened and why he could no longer reach Sebastian. It shivered across Drake's face like a blow, his mouth parting in shock, in horror."No,"he whispered soundlessly, and Bishop's heart clenched at his father's pain.

The prophecy spoke of sacrifices. Perhaps this was what it had meant? Lucien had been meant to be the demon's vessel, but Ianthe had fought for him a month ago, averting his fate. Maybe it had never been about the three of them dying, but about what they might lose to the demon. Their sanity, their lives, or perhaps even control over their own body?

"You have proof?" Agatha demanded.

Cleo nodded firmly. "I'm Sebastian's wife. And we are bonded by a soul-bond. I cannot sense him... inside." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "Not anymore."

The demon smiled. "I do wish you hadn't done that."

Agatha took a sideways step, eyeing Sebastian uneasily. "You have no right to be here, creature." She suddenly bristled, and Bishop took a step forward.Shit. "Begone from this meeting."

The demon laughed, a chilling sound that echoed through the room. Power suddenly began flowing into his appropriated body, immense power. "And justwhois going to stop me? Morgana, I think it's time for a little get-together."

A woman stepped out of the crowd, sweeping back her red hood and removing the silver mask she wore. Almond-shaped green eyes held a glint of mockery as she examined the clearing, her dark hair streaked with a single lock of white. A beautiful, malicious woman.

"How dare you come here," Drake spat.

Bishop had never known her, but she'd hurt his father. That was cause enough. He slipped through the crowd toward her, with a murmur for Verity to stay where she was, a knife slipping from his inner sleeve into his palm. There was still an execution warrant with her name on it out there.

"Why hello, Drake," Morgana purred. She had to be in her fifties, but there was a lush sensuality about her despite the streak of silver in her hair. "Looks like you didn't manage to kill me last month, after all."

"Let us remedy that," Drake suggested.

"I don't think so." Morgana snapped her fingers. "I brought friends, just in case the deception was revealed too soon."

A half dozen red cloaks toppled, and out of the chaos of each cloak launched a pair of hell spawn who had obviously stood on each other's shoulders to pass as human. The imp's coppery skin gleamed over lean muscles as they bounded through the crowd, leaping on sorcerers and tearing apart flesh with their gleaming claws.

Jesus.