and forced her thoughts back to the task at hand and the mage she sat across from.
“What’s your name?”
“There are rules. I know there are.”
“Yes, there are. Unfortunately for you I’m averse to rules and you’re not covered by those rules anyway. You’re not a witch. You’re not a human. You’re a mage. Your actions were not covered by the covenant either. Which means you’re mine. However I want you.”
She sat back, crossing her legs and slowly kicking her foot back and forth.
It could have been the steely gaze, ha , or the big man videotaping, or the giant at the door. Probably partly all three.But just as she leaned forward to speak, the prisoner did instead.
“My name is Andrew McCay.”
She didn’t take notes. They’d go over the videotape later on.
“All right, Andrew. My name is Lark Jaansen. Why did you attack me?”
He clammed up and she was done. “I’m going in, Andrew.”
“You can’t do anything near what he can.”
She rolled her eyes before she closed them and began to spool up her magick. It came easily, readily, warm and pliant. Good signs. If it had been recalcitrant, she may have doubted this path.
So Lark followed her gut and slashed through his paltry mental shields and found herself in his head. Not bothering with finesse, she boldly riffled through his memories until she froze at the sight of something very, very scary. Uh-oh.
Though she was in, totally immersed in Andrew McCay’s head, she felt the heat of a hand on her shoulder. Simon. Did her panic show to them? It must have if he was at her side. She needed to rein in her fear and keep going. For the moment though she took what he offered.
The magick he’d shared with her flared in recognition. Helped her fight past the fear and get back to work.
When she finally surfaced some minutes later she got to shaky feet. “Got what I needed.” She turned and left the room without another word.
“What the fuck did you see in there?” Gage locked the door as they all left.
“In a minute. Let’s get you away from this fool.” Simon handed her a bottle of water and she drank deeply. Using that much magick would leave a mark on her system.
A guard came in and took over for Gage as they headed just a few doors down to a small conference space.
“He’s small potatoes, is Andrew McCay. He’s a low-level Enforcer. Finds their prey and reports back. They have teams of snatchers now.”
“Teams?”
“This isn’t as low rent as it was even a year ago, Gage. Something else is going on. I’ve been thinking thismyself. The patterns were pointing at more organization with someone at the top calling the shots.” She shrugged. “His orders were to grab me and bring me to Cyrus.”
Up until just a few minutes before they’d all believed that Cyrus Pasqual, a turned witch and a former compatriot of Gloria Ochoa’s, had been in charge of the mages who’d been targeting the witches for kidnapping. He’d been injured in the showdown at the warehouse a few months before, but he’d managed to escape and had remained on the loose, a thorn in their side.
“We know about Cyrus and that’s not what made you so pale in there. One moment you had this expression of total concentration. The next you stopped, bolt still and went very, very pale. You panicked, I saw it. What were they going to do to you? ” Simon’s expression was so intent, it startled her.
“There’s more. Something more than Cyrus. Andrew came with Cyrus, but Cyrus isn’t in charge. Not anymore.”
“Another turned witch?”
“No. Gage… when we were attacked earlier one of them kept talking about how I’d be afraid when I met him. The usual sort of spooky taunt they use, you know. So I figured he meant Cyrus.”
She gulped the rest of the water in the bottle.
“Stay.” Simon stood and put a hand on her shoulder. “I’ll get you water.”
“Thanks.”
He left quickly and she turned back to Gage. “Gimme a sec.” She opened her
“What’s your name?”
“There are rules. I know there are.”
“Yes, there are. Unfortunately for you I’m averse to rules and you’re not covered by those rules anyway. You’re not a witch. You’re not a human. You’re a mage. Your actions were not covered by the covenant either. Which means you’re mine. However I want you.”
She sat back, crossing her legs and slowly kicking her foot back and forth.
It could have been the steely gaze, ha , or the big man videotaping, or the giant at the door. Probably partly all three.But just as she leaned forward to speak, the prisoner did instead.
“My name is Andrew McCay.”
She didn’t take notes. They’d go over the videotape later on.
“All right, Andrew. My name is Lark Jaansen. Why did you attack me?”
He clammed up and she was done. “I’m going in, Andrew.”
“You can’t do anything near what he can.”
She rolled her eyes before she closed them and began to spool up her magick. It came easily, readily, warm and pliant. Good signs. If it had been recalcitrant, she may have doubted this path.
So Lark followed her gut and slashed through his paltry mental shields and found herself in his head. Not bothering with finesse, she boldly riffled through his memories until she froze at the sight of something very, very scary. Uh-oh.
Though she was in, totally immersed in Andrew McCay’s head, she felt the heat of a hand on her shoulder. Simon. Did her panic show to them? It must have if he was at her side. She needed to rein in her fear and keep going. For the moment though she took what he offered.
The magick he’d shared with her flared in recognition. Helped her fight past the fear and get back to work.
When she finally surfaced some minutes later she got to shaky feet. “Got what I needed.” She turned and left the room without another word.
“What the fuck did you see in there?” Gage locked the door as they all left.
“In a minute. Let’s get you away from this fool.” Simon handed her a bottle of water and she drank deeply. Using that much magick would leave a mark on her system.
A guard came in and took over for Gage as they headed just a few doors down to a small conference space.
“He’s small potatoes, is Andrew McCay. He’s a low-level Enforcer. Finds their prey and reports back. They have teams of snatchers now.”
“Teams?”
“This isn’t as low rent as it was even a year ago, Gage. Something else is going on. I’ve been thinking thismyself. The patterns were pointing at more organization with someone at the top calling the shots.” She shrugged. “His orders were to grab me and bring me to Cyrus.”
Up until just a few minutes before they’d all believed that Cyrus Pasqual, a turned witch and a former compatriot of Gloria Ochoa’s, had been in charge of the mages who’d been targeting the witches for kidnapping. He’d been injured in the showdown at the warehouse a few months before, but he’d managed to escape and had remained on the loose, a thorn in their side.
“We know about Cyrus and that’s not what made you so pale in there. One moment you had this expression of total concentration. The next you stopped, bolt still and went very, very pale. You panicked, I saw it. What were they going to do to you? ” Simon’s expression was so intent, it startled her.
“There’s more. Something more than Cyrus. Andrew came with Cyrus, but Cyrus isn’t in charge. Not anymore.”
“Another turned witch?”
“No. Gage… when we were attacked earlier one of them kept talking about how I’d be afraid when I met him. The usual sort of spooky taunt they use, you know. So I figured he meant Cyrus.”
She gulped the rest of the water in the bottle.
“Stay.” Simon stood and put a hand on her shoulder. “I’ll get you water.”
“Thanks.”
He left quickly and she turned back to Gage. “Gimme a sec.” She opened her
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