Chapter Five #2
Penn said something, but his words jumbled in Valerian’s brain. He watched those lips move and before he made a conscious decision, captured them in a fierce kiss. The kiss tasted harsh and metallic. Valerian deepened it and pulled Penn tighter to him, searching for Penn’s sweetness underneath.
The dark shadows of the room crept closer. As his vision began to blur, Valerian knew he didn’t have much time. He grabbed the hilt of the dagger and held on tightly as darkness shrouded the memory.
Eyes squeezed shut, Valerian focused on the forest floor under his back, the clothes protecting his body, his hair brushing his forehead. His muscles strained and ached around something clutched in his right hand. Carefully, he opened his eyes and lifted his hand into his view.
The dagger’s blade reflected Valerian’s triumphant grin back at him.
The lord of Causley Estate was a cheerful man who could drink a fish under the table. In the short time Penn had spent with him the day before, he’d counted at least two glasses of whiskey and four glasses of brandy, yet the man remained upright and energetic, eyes crinkled in a welcoming smile.
That smile had frozen on Lord Edgar’s face, wide enough to show his molars, as he loaded up a carriage with all his worldly possessions.
Penn’s stomach clenched as he watched everyone who lived at Causley Estate, nobility and servants alike, jerk and dance like puppets under Niall’s control.
“No, no, not that,” Niall scoffed, smacking a footstool out of a woman’s hands.
It clattered to the ground, and she continued smiling at him as she chirped happily, “Sorry, sir!” Then she jerked around and marched back into the house.
Bile rose in Penn’s throat and he struggled to swallow it. Better puppets than dead. An image flashed in his mind of Lord Edgar’s son, Bern, his throat slit open, eyes vacant in death. That fate could await any of the people here if Niall deemed them a threat.
“I have something for you.” The soft words pulled Penn’s attention away from the disturbing puppet show. Valistair stood near his shoulder, fiddling with a thin gold chain, twisting it in a slow circle.
“What is it?”
“Insurance.” He lifted it over Penn’s head, settling it around his neck and under his black shirt. The cold metal held more weight than simple gold. “You will not take this off.”
Penn’s fingers itched as he resisted the urge to immediately yank off the necklace. “What happens if I do?”
Valistair’s fingers lingered, caressing Penn’s throat in a featherlight touch that sent a shiver down his spine. “You won’t.”
“What does it do?”
The fingers brushed a slow line up the edge of his jaw, then traced his lips. “You ask so many questions.”
And like Valerian, you dodge all of them. “What can I say? You intrigue me,” Penn replied dryly. “I want to know all about you.”
The mage arched a brow, then to Penn’s surprise gave him a real answer.
“The spell binds you to me. If you get too far—” he raised his hand so Penn could see it, then closed his fingers and yanked them back.
Penn stumbled a step forward, crashing into Valistair’s chest. An arm wrapped around him, holding him steady.
Damned man put a collar on me!
“You’ll have some freedom of movement,” Valistair explained, “but if you try to leave me, you won’t make it far.”
Penn pulled away, relieved when the mage easily released him.
He tugged at the chain, afraid it would fuse to his skin—imagining the way Adelaide had forced Valerian’s finger to swell around the ring, and how only mutilating his hand had removed it—but it slid around his neck freely.
He left his tests there for now so Valistair wouldn’t suspect him of trying to escape.
Valistair watched him expectantly and Penn tried to think of what he wanted to hear. As far as he’s concerned, this is probably a gift. “Thank you,” he said, forcing the words to sound sincere instead of begrudging.
“You’re welcome.”
Penn returned his attention to the people before him, the ones who weren’t lucky enough to be a mage’s pet. “What will happen to them?”
Valistair glanced at them, unconcerned. “Euphoria gives them a happy dream. When it wears off, the only trace will be a slight headache.”
“And the bruises.”
“Better bruised than dead.”
The echo of Penn’s earlier thoughts sent a shiver down his spine. How much can someone stand before death is the better option? Hopefully, these people wouldn’t have to find out.
“There!” Niall exclaimed, brushing off his hands as if he’d done all the work himself. When he saw Penn and Valistair standing so close to each other, his jaw clenched in irritation. “Are you ready to leave, Alistair?”
Penn approached the carriage, sparing a glance for the people he passed who continued to beam at him.
Inside the carriage was everything Niall had ordered them to gather.
There was only room for one person, which meant two would have to sit on the driver’s seat.
“Since I know where we’re going, I assume you want me to drive? ”
Niall narrowed his eyes at Penn. “Yes, and I’ll be keeping a close eye on you. Don’t think you’ll get away with any tricks under my watch.”
“Understood,” Penn said, keeping his voice chipper as he climbed up onto the seat.
Two horses were hitched up to the carriage, neither of which he recognized.
They’d brought a horse and cart with them to Causley Estate, and Penn briefly wondered what had happened to them. Hex is probably better off here anyway.
Niall took the spot next to Penn, crossing his arms and stretching out his legs to indicate that he was there to supervise only, he had no intention of doing any work.
Valistair’s unsettling, mismatched eyes lingered on Penn for a long moment before he finally climbed into the carriage.
Once everyone was settled, Penn guided the horses onto the road. The people of Causley Estate formed two lines on either side, wearing matching eerie smiles as they waved goodbye. Their hands moved in unison, like a metronome ticking back and forth.
Leaving was the best way to help them. The more distance Penn put between these people and the mages, the safer they would be. He urged the horses into a fast clip and focused on the long journey ahead.