Chapter 64 #2
“Joy,” Jane murmured, her head still resting against Reagan’s shoulder.
“A sandwich?” Gwinifer asked dryly. “Do you have three more? Your sister went full wicked on the bastard.”
“I can bring more,” Joy said readily.
Jane took the sandwich, still not fully recovered. Yet the resolve in her eyes had not dimmed. She met Gwinifer’s gaze, and there it was. The same unrelenting focus Reagan had seen in the alley, and after he had shifted back into his body in that damn cabin.
The sight eased the pressure of his flux.
It struck him harder now. She had created a portal in a room barely large enough to breathe, bleeding out while doing it.
The Scion’s lax monitoring of her cell proved how badly they had underestimated her. The same way the Order underestimated the hybrid-born, still carrying the misconception that their wield was lesser than that of the mageborn, regardless of training.
Never would they have guessed that a hybrid-born reared as human would know how to create a portal. Most mageborn didn’t try to learn what they considered a magister’s work and would not have been able to build a portal to save their lives. Reagan would hardly have believed it himself.
But she was wickedly clever and always sought knowledge that would grant her an advantage. If she could not overpower them, then she had chosen to outwit them all.
Behind them, the first line vanished through the portal.
“We cannot wait too long,” Jane said. “We need to get them out.”
Reagan watched her eat, still holding her close, fingers threading through her hair while his other hand rested at her waist. He sent a breeze of mana skimming along her pulse, which still beat too fast.
“Eat,” he told her. “You’re no use depleted.”
Jane blinked, chewing more slowly. His mouth curved at the surprise etched across her face, water gathering in her eyes. He could almost see the moment she remembered what she had done, the power she had wielded.
“Yes. You showed off quite a lot,” Reagan murmured, his mouth twitching. “You wicked, wild witch.”
Gwinifer muttered something about sparing herself and turned to address two approaching figures.
“My Lady,” Heil greeted solemnly, towering over them, Astrid drawing up beside Gwin.
“Hi, Heil,” Jane replied, steadier now with food in her system.
“Good to have you back,” Heil said, offering a brief smile before returning to the task at hand. “Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?”
Still chewing, she nodded.
“Does any sound bleed through that room?” Heil asked. “Is there anyone waiting outside?”
“No,” Jane replied. “It’s soundproof, and they don’t leave anyone watching.”
“Idiots,” Gwinifer muttered, glancing at Astrid, who scrunched her face in agreement.
“What can you tell us about the site?” Heil continued.
“At least two floors and an underground level,” Jane said.
“Most of the captives are kept below, but some are in the kitchens and private rooms. I counted thirty-four. And another thing, the Scions… They might be weakened by the bloodbane. I’ve been spreading it on the rugs and into the vents that run from the washrooms below to the upper floors.
I don’t know how much of a difference it will make, but… you should know.”
“Where did you get bloodbane?” Reagan asked, tightening his hold on her, wondering if that was what had drained her further.
“That room is full of it. In the padding.”
A knot of emotions rose in Reagan. Madden would pay tenfold for what he had done to her.
He leaned close to Jane’s ear, wanting to provide anything she needed, wanting to take her away from here. She was extraordinary.
“Being yours is the greatest honour of my life.”
She met his eyes, colour deepening across the freckles on her nose and cheeks.
Now they stood with a clean path into Madden’s hidden mansion, supposedly in Ashenagth. An unlicensed portal was a serious offence, but it paled next to keeping captives.
“Smart thinking,” Heil said. “That could give us the edge we need.” He turned to Gwinifer. “I’ll check outside the room. If it’s clear, your squad goes in second.”
They had a few minutes while Heil’s familiar scouted the surrounding corridors.
The captain’s gaze returned to Reagan. “Will you be able to bar all the exits?”
Before answering, Reagan exchanged a look with Jane, waiting for her decision.
Her gaze shifted from him to Heil. “We’ll bar the exits.”
Reagan dipped his chin. “Send the signal, and we’ll be there.”
Heil nodded and moved towards the squads, calling them forward and outlining the hallway staging points for the patrollers.
“If you’re going back, then I’m coming with you,” Joy said firmly, reaching for her sister’s hands.
“No,” Jane said softly, as Reagan handed her a glass of water. “I need to go. You don’t. You can wait in the Hall and stay with Finn.”
“I’m not leaving you again,” Joy replied. “I’m helping you.”
“I was planning to join Gwin’s squad,” Finn added.
Jane smiled at him. “I’m asking you to stay with her.
She cannot be alone, and I trust you more than anyone to look after her.
” She turned back to Joy. “You’ve already helped more than enough.
I need to go because he is a time weaver, and I can help stop him.
The rest, I’ll leave to the trained fighters. ”
Joy’s face flushed, clearly unhappy with the arrangement.
“Don’t worry, snowflake,” Gwinifer said breezily. “We’ll save some of the fun for you next time.”
Gwin didn’t wait for a reply, striding after Astrid and adjusting her close-fitted leather jerkin, the sigils glinting with the lights as they moved towards the portal. Her squad advanced next. Five of them stepped forward.
“Then Joy and I will be waiting to hear from you,” Finn said, extending a hand to the sister.
Reluctantly, Joy took it and rose to her feet. “Be careful,” she said, her eyes lowering to the grass beneath Reagan, murmuring her next words. “Thank you.”
Though she didn’t look at him, Reagan knew those last words were meant for him. He dipped his chin, knowing he would have to thank her later.
They watched as Joy and Finn turned and made their way back towards the Hall.
As Reagan pulled Jane’s boots on, she was gobbling down the space around them, her legs still draped over his thigh.
She looked past him again, at the blackened sky, at the field behind the Hall, illuminated by hovering spotlights that caught on the leather uniforms of battle mages lining up to cross the portal.
Reagan couldn’t imagine how suffocating that minuscule room had been, couldn’t dwell too long on how many days she had been trapped there.
Power was already gathering at his fingertips. If she hadn’t already ended the vermin, he would have enjoyed doing it himself.
Jane’s eyes lifted to his, bright with an emotion she was holding in check. Her fingers rose to his face and traced his cheek, slow and tentative. Checking the texture.
His chest tightened. Reagan caught her wrist and pressed a kiss to her skin. “It’s real,” he murmured. “It’s not a vision.”
Her pulse had finally eased beneath his palm. It had to. Otherwise, she wouldn’t be going back in. And he wouldn’t leave her side.
Reagan pressed at the bruised spots on her leg. “Do you need a healer?”
“No,” she said. “It’s just sore. He shoved me to the ground.”
He buried his face in her hair. “Are you alright?” he murmured, the words incredibly difficult to voice. “Did he hurt you?”
She paused for an infinity. “No,” Jane said finally. “I hurt him.”
She leaned into him. The combination of food and his siphoned mana had coaxed strength back into her limbs.
Thank the Grimoire.
“I killed him,” Jane said quietly, without looking at him. It was acknowledgement.
She still hadn’t moved from his lap, and that alone spoke volumes about how deeply unsettled she was. Reagan remembered the first time he’d taken a life. Two, actually. The hollowness afterward had been a pit. But hers was different.
“You defended yourself,” Reagan said steadily, his hands cradling her face. “And because of you, we’re going to free those captives.”
Her throat worked before she nodded.
“I was expecting you yesterday,” Reagan said. “What happened?”
“I couldn’t,” she said hoarsely. “I was unconscious yesterday after he made me See for him.”
Reagan’s jaw tightened. His gaze swept over her eyes, her face, her bloodied hands and stained nails.
She seemed better now, her gaze slipping past him again, tracking Barracus and the other squad leads as they coordinated the next wave of battle mages.
His heart kicked painfully at the memory of her power unleashed, of her eyes deadly white and merciless.
“I cannot wait,” he said, tucking a strand of her wet hair, “to explore that beautiful access of yours.”
Her eyes brightened again. Jane tugged at his collar, and it was the only nudge he needed. He pressed his mouth to hers, brief and hard, knowing they didn’t have much time before Heil’s familiar carried the signal.
The final squads entering through the portal were forgotten. There was only her in the field, and the small body that had wielded more than he’d expected.
Jane pulled back, but he tightened his hold, keeping her pressed to him.
“Don’t,” he said, tightening the arm cinched around her waist. “Not yet.”
His mana thrummed against hers.
“I’m all right now,” Jane said, though she didn’t sound entirely certain.
He still couldn’t let go, knowing he was gazing at her as if she were Zara’s gift to magekin. To him.
“Maybe you are all right,” Reagan murmured. “But I’m not. Not even close.”
He felt her body soften into his, watched her shut her eyes and bury her face against his chest.
Quicker than he would have liked, a nebulous mountain lion slipped out from the room, met his gaze, and vanished.
Reagan cupped her face again. “You’ll stay with me. At all times. We’ll take the prick together. Deal?”
He waited.
Jane nodded. “Deal.”