Chapter 27
“Where’s Jinx?” My mind is a raw, tingling flood of chemicals that makes me want to scream and explode, my fury a living, breathing thing that will consume them all.
But there’s another part; a small child crying alone in the darkness as fear like I’ve never felt before overtakes my body.
It makes me want to fall on my knees and beg in great sobbing pleas.
I didn’t beg my father for leniency, I didn’t beg Alasdair to let me go, but I’ll beg this man for Jinx if it means her return.
I rub the hollow spot in my chest, finally recognizing it as the place where the bond usually sits. Sickness rises.
Dimitar’s smile doesn’t waver. He’d be handsome in his perfectly tailored suit if he wasn’t such a living horror in my world.
Pure psychopath through and through. His magician’s token is a powerful Transformation Thread rumored to be from the Councilor’s heir during the Revolution.
But Jinx and I always believed the rumors were wrong.
The massive tiger he transforms into is a powerful beast, more demon than creature.
And that’s just what I can sense from him.
I’ve never seen his other form in person, but whispers come to me.
Dimitar, the Amur Tiger.
Lucas grabs my bicep in a bruising grip and he attempts to drag me back towards the door, but I throw him off viciously. Eyes burning, I screech, “WHERE IS SHE!”
Dimitar stares unwaveringly at me, his smile still in place. “Such a temper.”
Lucas grips me again, but instead of pulling back, he steps up beside me. His expression is dark and body tenses.
The Amur’s eyes glint. The books go still and silent. “Ah, my dear friend. So glad to see you on your feet.” Yellow eyes scan the magician. “And no lingering side effects, I hope?”
Lucas’ lip curls, pouring his hatred into his glare.
He was never good at hiding his emotions, especially when it comes to Dimitar.
How Dimitar figured out Lucas was injured is beyond me.
I’ll have to solve it later, when I’m not on the verge of letting my Entropy devour me just so I can take Dimitar with me in a frenzied ball of black fire.
And what a tempting fantasy that is. Cold power stings my fingertips, begging to be unleashed.
Dimitar’s gaze flicks to Lucas’ neck and the lavish inhale he takes through his nose is for show.
My skin prickles. His pleasant tone feeds my growing unease.
“You were finally thrown a bone like the loyal, starved dog you are. How precious.” He eyes where Valen stands in the shadowy entryway.
“And yet there’s a complication. Nice to see you again, Valentin. ”
Lucas growls, “You are trespassing, so unless this has a point—”
“Trespassing?” Dimitar’s smile takes a lethal edge. “That’s rich coming from you.”
I’m losing my patience. My magic crackles and the books shift uneasily. “Give Jinx back to me, or I swear to all the arachnid gods, magician,” I hiss through my teeth, “I’ll make sure to skin you alive nice and fucking slow if you’ve harmed my familiar.”
Lucas’ hand tightens on my arm, cutting off my blood flow, but I don’t care. All I can see is red, my eyes threatening to flicker with the darkness within me. My skin ripples with the cold power that begs to be used.
The curtain shifts again and Ivan, Dimitar’s second in command, steps through.
The burly magician with his silver forearm bracers nods in greeting, the right glinting green with the Transformation Thread and the left humming with power that amplifies the magic.
I glare back. His thick mustache twitches, his brows heavy.
Lucas is vibrating with tension, his jaw tightening until his teeth click.
Two ghouls follow and I sneer. I hate ghouls.
My shop is going to stink like rotting flesh for days now.
The glamour emanating from their gold chains doesn’t work on me.
I see past it to behold the creatures in all their horrific glory.
Their pupils reflect a white glow, the flesh of their faces slightly drooping.
There’s a patchwork of various colors where they’ve carved off chunks of their victims to patch up rotting holes.
Dimitar keeps them well supplied; I don’t see any hints of bubbling rot.
Though the one on the left should really tighten the stays to get that skin more flush to its skull.
They’re a form of disgusting, bastardized magic that only the Amur would dare wield.
If the Archweaver saw them, he’d lose his fucking mind at the abhorrence.
Not that the Archweaver has a leg to stand on after what he did to his sister.
The ancient texts used to create these creatures were supposedly burned with the priesthood two thousand years ago, but one of their grimoires survived and landed in the first magician’s hands.
Leon used his gained knowledge on the corpses of weavers to create his ghouls, and they filled in the ranks of his army during the Revolution, while he worked on crafting more tokens.
It’s why properly burning a weaver after they pass to the Tapestry is so important.
My jaw flexes. One day, I’ll return to my father’s home and ensure Viola is put to rest. But first, I need to get Jinx back.
A third ghoul steps out holding a large iron box.
Pain forces the breath from my lungs and rage vibrates my bones.
“How dare you. To even touch—The pain—” My head throbs, my body shaking.
I’m going to lose control in a blacked-out rage.
The pain of being caged in iron must be something nightmarish for Jinx.
“You monster. Cruel, disgusting monster.” The floor trembles and my eyes dim.
My voice warps. “I’m going to ruin you.”
Dimitar is unfazed, waving a hand as if I’m throwing a tantrum. “We don’t need to make this difficult.” The drooping ghoul pulls out a pair of iron cuffs. “Come along. Your daddy is waiting for you.”
Power crackles along my fingers. My smile turns violent, my eyes cold and black. “I’d like to see you try, Dimitar.”
Valen emerges from the shadows, his boots clicking on each step. His hand brushes along my lower back, steadying me from the violence in my blood. His gaze meets mine and I can practically hear his Calm the fuck down before you kill us all.
My teeth clench, my hands balling into fists. He’s right, though I’m loath to admit it. I’m more likely to implode and take the whole city with me. That’s not how Jinx is going to get out of the box. I need to calm down and think. Then I’ll skin Dimitar. My back room could use a new rug.
Valen steps before me, partially blocking me from Dimitar and giving me the much-needed privacy to get my shit together.
Valen smiles blandly, his icy eyes glowing. “Come now. There’s no need for that. Surely, we can come to an understanding.”
Dimitar’s eyes brighten with amusement. “Can we?”
Valen shifts his weight to his other foot. “Tell me, Amur. Are you here for the bounty or has Atticus offered something more tempting?”
A fang catches on his tongue. “And you think you could top his offer?”
Valen’s grin takes an edge. “Why, yes. I can.”
Dimitar hums, his head tilting. “Tempting. But there’s only one deal I’ll make, and it’s not with you, weaver.” His yellow eyes land on Lucas and my blood goes cold, smile falling. “Hello, old friend.”
Lucas isn’t breathing and my hand slaps over his. My nails dig into his wrist, but he ignores me and replies coolly, “Dimitar.”
The Amur waves to the shop. “Now, I can pretend that I was never here. Perhaps I didn’t arrive in time. Perhaps the wards never weakened enough for me to slip through.” He gestures to the box. “Maybe the box opens and nothing was caught.”
A grimness shadows Lucas’ face. “What do you want for this generosity?”
“Nothing much. After all, what are friends for if not to be generous with one another? I’ll just take the small fortune that I’d be letting slip through my fingers.” His smile takes an edge. “And you can work off the sum.”
My nails draw blood, my hand shaking. Lucas’ eyes narrow. “And you’ll call off all the bounty hunters? Everyone?”
“Within reason.”
“No. With an absolute. And chase the weavers back to their forest. No one is to bother Astoria, not even a mildly annoying customer. Got it?”
Fear sharpens my voice. “Lucas!”
He doesn’t look at me. “Do that and we have a deal.”
Dimitar glows with evil satisfaction and holds out his large hand. Lucas steps forward, his hand securing around mine. His voice lowers. “It’s easier this way.” And tries to pry my hand off his.
But I can’t let go. All I can see is him lying on my front step years ago with a gash from shoulder to thigh.
Three slashes, like something large tried to gut him for daring to pay off his debts.
My heart pounds, my vision tunneling. If he does this, I’ll never see him again.
Dimitar will never allow him to slip away a second time.
Lucas rips his wrist free and steps away. Valen plants a hand on his chest and shoves the magician violently back. Lucas stumbles, his eyes flaring. I can practically hear Martyring idiot whispered in the crackle of magic from Valen’s hand.
Valen snaps, “I can pay the debt. There’s no reason for indenturing.”
Annoyance flickers in Dimitar’s yellow eyes. “Bauer or not, I’ll take offense if you continue to get involved in a matter that doesn’t concern you. Walk out the door and send my regards to your father.”
Valen doesn’t move, irritation radiating off him. But this isn’t about the money for Dimitar. It’s about control. I would bet my shop on it. Dimitar wants Lucas back because he’s the only one who’s ever managed to escape the Guild alive. His pride cannot permit the insult.