Page 123 of Soulbound

"I won't."

The first swing of the staff cut through the sheer weight of the anger riding him. Staff slammed against staff, and then he was shoving his brother back with raw strength, raw fury. Bishop's stave caught the edge of his ribs, and the lash of pain that swept through him cleared his mind. Sebastian swung back, the clack of timber bringing with it a sweet clarity of its own.

The fierce dance began to weave a magic of its own. No holding back. Bishop knew how to protect himself.

He pictured Cleo, laughing beneath him as he kissed his way down her throat. Took a knee to the ribs, and swung back, ducking beneath the wide hum of Bishop's stave. It hurt. It all hurt, but he needed this. Needed the pain.

Cleo, the knife to her throat. Sebastian took a blow to the shoulder that would have crippled him on a different day, but he simply plowed through it, feeling strangely numb, and scored a lucky strike. Bishop didn't wince, simply answered with a sweeping retaliation that made his ears ring.

Body against body. Blow against blow. It was physical and raw, driving all the thoughts from his head, but one.

Cleo. Telling him her heart was his.

The tide broke within him. A sob sounded in his throat. And Bishop slammed him back into the wall, smashing the stave aside, his arms dragging Sebastian to his chest. Sebastian swung an arm, but Bishop blocked it.

"No more. No more. We're done."

A fist curled in his hair, and he couldn't see. His face was buried in his brother's shoulder. One second they were fighting, and the next, his brother was dragging him into a hug.

"We'll get her back," Bishop whispered. "I promise you I will do anything—anything—to get her back safely."

Sebastian lifted his head, blinking through the haze. The words felt momentous. He didn't understand.

"Drake wouldn't want her to be hurt," Bishop said, meeting his eyes. "I know what he would tell me to do."

It struck him like a fist of iron. The one thing Bishop didn't want to do, the one thing he dreaded the most—

"You'd kill him?" he whispered hoarsely.

Bishop was offering to kill his father to stop the demon? To save Cleo? He could barely breathe.

"I know how I'd feel if that were Verity," Bishop murmured. "And you're my brother. My younger brother." His voice roughened. "I never understood that until now. Verity was right all along. We need to stick together."

Sebastian tried to clear his throat, choking on the emotion filling him. He didn't know what to say. A month ago this man had been a foe. "Thank you."

The words weren't enough, but Bishop nodded.

"Let's go find that demon and kill it."

Chapter 28

'A well-spring bond is formed between two or more sorcerers when they wish to combine strength, however, one of them is in charge, and the others merely puppets.'

* * *

—'Understanding the Divine', by Sir Antony Scott

* * *

"SO WHERE DID Lascher take her?" Lucien asked, leaning over the map of London that Bishop had produced.

Sebastian stared into the flames in the hearth. All of them had gathered there as evening fell. Lucien, Ianthe, Bishop, and Verity. Lady Eberhardt and Marie. Remington Cross and Eleanor, Drake's lover.

He hadn't understood until today. This wasn't just a war meeting, this was a family. Every single person here would fight to rescue Cleo, and not just because of duty, but because they loved her.

And he... he had a place here.

He cleared his throat, turning to face them. "I only caught a glimpse through the bond. There was light, a garden...." He fought to remember. "Flames in the background, and laughter. I'm sorry. I can't recall anything familiar, and it was so quick."