Page 67 of Hexbound

"Steal a ship," Mercy had replied promptly. "Become a pirate."

Verity burst into laughter. "Should I call you Anne Bonny?"

And Mercy had thrown a pillow at her.

After the fight died down, which Verity had won using her translocation skills to pin her sister-of-the-heart to her mattress, Mercy had whispered. "What would you do?"

Verity had barely dared to put it into words, for if you said your wish out loud it would never come true. "I would steal a man's heart," she'd whispered. "Have my own children, my own family." One that couldn't be taken away from her. "A home of my own, where I didn't have to steal or beg just to keep my head above water."

But what was the point in wishing, for a pair of girls from Seven Dials who knew better than to believe?

Here, now, she felt that same urge expand her chest. Her arms slipped around his waist, and Verity looked up, her cheeks tight and dry. Dark lashes shuttered his eyes as he glanced down. He must have seen the need in her eyes, for he slowly, slowly lowered his face to hers. Verity's heart erupted in a series of flutters, like someone had trapped a butterfly inside her rib cage.

Lips brushed against her own. Then back again. A light caress that spoke of so much more than desire.

A wave of nervousness swept through her. It was easy to smile and flirt, especially with Bishop, because he always made her feel safe. Sometimes her smiles were little more than a means to protect herself, because if she controlled the interaction, then she was the one in control. She couldn't get hurt, because she wouldn't allow it.

But she didn't feel safe at all tonight.

She felt like her eyes had just opened to a terrifying truth: this man could break her. Crack her heart right open and obliterate her. She was vulnerable to him in a way that she'd never felt vulnerable before.

Verity pushed away, clearing her throat. "You do know how to take all of the fun out of the room, don't you?"

Bishop offered her the cue, but she shook her head, gathering her thoughts.

"Your game," she told him, and smiled fleetingly before she wished him a good night and fled the room.

OceanofPDF.com

Chapter 16

'The Sclavus Collarwas invented in 1789 by John Davis and Genevieve Huston. When Mrs. Huston set the collar on Mr. Davis, she discovered that she could bend his will to hers via the collar. To test its limits Davis refused to submit and Huston's use of the collar brought him to his knees with pain. He could not remove the device. Nor could he stand against its hold. It was then that both sorcerers realized what they had wrought and destroyed the collar. After their deaths, an avaricious nephew found Huston's notes. He sold them on the occult market, leading to some appalling situations. This was when the Order was forced to investigate and ban the collar. A despicable thing, truly....'

–Musingson the Order of the Dawn Star, by Thaddeus O'Rourke

THE CHAINS HELD him.

Blinded by a strip of tight linen, Sebastian hung against the wall, trying to focus on his breathing. Something was broken. His ribs, perhaps. It didn't matter. Pain was an old friend and if his mother thought that would chain him down, then she didn't know him very well.

Despair came close to filling him. He'd been so close to escaping Morgana forever. He'd thought her dead after he and Cleo fled the collapsing house.

You knew it was too good to be true.

Days passed. His body ached, and the silence became deafening. Nobody had been to feed him, or to clean the filth from his body. His knees were shaking now, desperate for respite, but the chains forced him to stand. Either that, or tear his shoulders from their joints.

Alone. Alone, and trapped, and full of despair. Sebastian clenched both his fists, trying to force heat and circulation back into starved extremities. It was starting to get to him.

But somehow, on the third day, there was a whisper in the dark, a brush of something against his psychic senses.

"There you are…."It felt like a hand reached out toward him in the darkness, though it was only a psychic touch.

Sebastian instantly jerked away from the reach, not trusting it. Sweat sprang up against his spine and he thought that he'd imagined it, but almost a minute later, it came again.

"Please. I've been searching for you for days."

Sebastian hesitated. Why would someone search for him? Nobody knew he was here, rotting in this dungeon, nobody except Cleo. Had she found someone to help him? Hope made his breath catch, but then he shook it away. Maybe that was what this stranger wanted him to think?

Don't be a fool.