Chapter 24 Act of Treason
Amabel
I leaned against the kitchen counter, forcing myself to accept the fact that Eluned was on her way to Evermere, where the Cimmerians would either capture her or kill her.
If she was taken prisoner, I needed to free her quickly, before she could spill any of our secrets. She had always been the weak link in that regard, too emotional, too quick to lash out with words as well as magic.
If they killed her…
A small, cold part of me acknowledged that her death would be regrettable. She was my twin, after all. Still, not entirely unexpected given her recklessness. And there was nothing I could do about it except mitigate the damage to our plans.
“Aight, whatcha come up with?” Foster asked as he stomped back into the kitchen. “How we getting Crazy Ass back?”
“If you’re so concerned about her, why don’t you go to Evermere and look for her?” I snapped, turning to face him fully. “You’re the big, strong wolf shifter. Surely you could manage a rescue mission.”
“Your mother ordered me to stay here.” His expression hardened. “I don’t disobey her direct orders anymore than you do.”
“Really?” I studied him, trying to discern his true motives. Foster Collins had always been an enigma. Loyal, but with an agenda of his own that I hadn’t been able to suss out. “Why do you care so much about this, anyway? Is El really that good in bed?”
“Pure self-preservation, witchling. If your sister gets captured and talks, we’re all in danger. Including me. So what is the plan?”
A fair point, but I suspected there was more to it than that.
“Look, I can’t get in, I can’t rescue El, and I certainly can’t face three dhampirs and that demon wolf by myself.” I threw my hands up in the air and started pacing.
“I have an idea of something that might help,” Foster said slowly. I stopped mid-step and turned to face him, one eyebrow raised. “Something your mother’s got in her back pocket.”
I stared at him, wondering just how much he saw and heard around this place, and if Mother had underestimated him all this time.
The clock on the wall ticked steadily forward, marking the minutes until Arabesque Harrow’s return and my potential doom if I didn’t find a way to fix this catastrophe.
“What do you know?” I demanded.
“The day before she left for Chicago, Arabesque fed a greater demon a soul in exchange for a future favor. It gave her a token to summon it when she’s ready to collect. If you had that… ”
He trailed off, watching my face for a reaction. Even as my stomach turned at the thought of stealing from Mother, a cold, practical voice in my head whispered that it might be my only real option.
“You saw it?” I kept my voice steady, betraying none of my inner turmoil. “How is it you’re always watching things you shouldn’t be?”
“It’s what your mother pays me for. To see things. To keep an eye on everything. And everyone.” He shrugged, those massive shoulders rolling beneath his shirt, and the emphasis wasn’t lost on me.
Foster was reminding me that he was Mother’s man, not mine, not Eluned’s, a fact my sister often seemed to forget.
“And now you’re suggesting I steal from her.” I tapped my fingers together, thinking. “Use her favor token to break into Evermere.”
“Which wrath would be worse?” His dark eyes held mine. “The one for using her favor or the one for losing your sister?”
My lips pinched together. He was right. Mother’s fury at the loss of the token would be substantial, but nothing compared to her rage if we lost Eluned.
Not because she loved us—I’d long since abandoned such childish notions—but because we were investments.
Assets. Resources. Extensions of her power that she had cultivated for specific purposes.
“Fine,” I said at last. “Where did she put it?”
“Her office. In that stuffed raven she keeps on the bookshelf.”
“You’re very observant.”
“It’s what keeps me alive.” He didn’t smile when he said it.
I moved past him, my decision made. Mother’s office was at the back of the house, a room that had once belonged to Serafina’s father before Mother had claimed it as her own.
The hallway leading to it felt longer than usual, each step an echo of defiance.
Foster followed, his footsteps silent. The door wasn’t locked, and I hesitated just a moment before pushing it open.
The room beyond was immaculate, as always.
Dark wood bookshelves lined the walls, filled with ancient tomes on witchcraft, demonology, and ritual sacrifice.
Mother’s desk dominated the center of the space, its surface clear except for a single silver letter opener shaped like a serpent and a stack of cream-colored stationery.
I spotted it immediately: A large black raven, wings spread as if in flight, perched atop a human skull.
Husband number one’s skull, to be precise.
The raven’s glass eyes seemed to follow me as I approached, and I fought the ridiculous urge to turn back.
It was just taxidermy, not one of Mother’s enchanted guardians.
At least I thought so.
“In the beak,” Foster said from right behind me, too close for comfort. “I saw her stuff it in there after the demon gave it to her.”
“What will Mother say when she realizes I took it?” I asked myself, but he answered.
“Guess you gotta ask yourself what’s she gonna say if you don’t.”
“That she should have trained a pair of dogs instead of daughters,” I said dryly, which earned me a snort of amusement.
I reached toward the raven, my hand steadier than I felt. Its beak was slightly open, revealing a glimpse of something dark within. Just as my fingers brushed the cold, polished surface of its head, Foster spoke again.
“You should go to Evermere right away. Today. Before they get her to spill everything she knows.”
My concentration broke, and I shot him an irritated glance over my shoulder.
“Could you perhaps stop talking for thirty seconds while I commit an act of treason against one of the most powerful Dark witches in the country?”
He held up his hands in mock surrender, but didn’t back away, looming bastard. I turned back to the raven, carefully prying its beak open wider. Inside, nestled against the artificial tongue, was a small black stone, no larger than a pebble, with a crimson symbol etched into its surface.
A favor token, just as Foster had said.
Plucking out of the beak, I held it in my palm. It was warm, unnaturally so, and held a faint pulse within, like a tiny heartbeat.
“That’s it,” he confirmed, peering over my shoulder.
“Whose soul did she trade for it?” I closed my fingers around the token, feeling its warmth spread up my arm.
“Lord Mordecai Wince. One of King Lucian’s top men. Arabesque had him trapped in a soul gem. Demon was very happy with the payment.”
Typical Mother. Always thinking ahead, always collecting debts to be paid when most useful.
“So you break into Evermere, find your sister, and get out,” he continued, following me as I pocketed the token and stepped away from the raven. “Simple.”
“Nothing about the Cimmerians is simple.” I laughed, the sound hollow in the quiet office. “Unlike El, I know what they are: Three vicious, elite hunters who could tear me apart without breaking a sweat.”
“So use the demon as a distraction. Have it attack one part of the property while you sneak in another part.”
I paused, considering. That wasn’t a terrible idea, but Foster’s continuous stream of suggestions was grating on my already frayed nerves. I needed time to think, to plan. Whatever I did next would have to be calculated to maximize success while minimizing the consequences from Mother.
My priorities were clear.
First, find and free Eluned if possible. If she was beyond saving, either dead or too deeply ensnared by the Cimmerians, I would have to neutralize her to prevent her from revealing anything important about our plans.
Second, if an opportunity presented itself, injure, or even better kill, one of Serafina’s husbands. Eliminating a Cimmerian would go a long way toward appeasing Mother’s wrath over lost resources.
If neither of those was possible, at the very least I needed to leave a message, a reminder that we hadn’t forgotten them, that their days of peaceful happiness were numbered.
“C’mon, Amabel,” he insisted, still following me like an oversized shadow. “Before they can interrogate Eluned.”
“They can’t have captured her already. Ondine had just sent her through the lake when I called.”
“You think the Cimmerians haven’t found a trespasser on their property by now?” he scoffed.
“She’s stupid, but she isn’t a pushover, and her ridiculous luck never seems to run out.” I straightened my shoulders. “Besides, I will not act before tomorrow morning at the earliest. Rushing in without a plan would be folly, and I refuse to make the same mistake as my sister.”
The fury building inside me finally bubbled to the surface.
“Do you understand the position she’s put me in? I have barely thirty-five hours to plan a rescue or a termination and return here in time to explain to Mother that this disaster is not my fault. I will not compound the problem by acting rashly.”
“If you wait too long, they’ll figure out how she got there and block the lake.”
“As you suggested, I can use this,” I held up the token before tucking it away again. “Have the demon destroy a perimeter runestone and interrupt their ward network. Create a diversion while I slip in.”
I wasn’t actually going to waste the demon favor on something so trivial, but he didn’t need to know that. The token was my ace in the hole, to be used only if absolutely necessary.
“Go do your job with the rogues,” I said, dismissing him with a wave. “I need to think.”
He lingered, blocking the doorway.
“She’s your sister,” he said at last. “Your twin. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”
“It means I’m the one who always has to clean up her messes!” I snarled.
“Just saying, if you wait too long, the Devil gets his due.”