CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
I cried out, a strangling sort of sound, and stared at the tattoo on Ty’s chest. “No,” I breathed. Ty? Part of the Guard? I didn’t want to believe it, but the proof was there, inked across his skin. Flashes of heat flushed my skin, and I tore my gaze away as hot tears burned my eyes. He’s been working for the Master all this time.
Pain ripped through the walls of my chest and ricocheted throughout my entire body. Ty betrayed me. Those three little words sliced right through me, and I glanced down expecting to see blood—the physical evidence of my internal agony. I choked down a sob.
“My apologies again, my lord, for the interruption to your party,” Ty said with another bow. He moved toward Maggie. “Allow me to take the human to a more secure location until you are ready to deal with her.” He took a step forward, straightening his shoulders. “I will personally see to it that she is . . . looked after.” He grinned, a wild look in his eye. My stomach rolled, and I was sure I was going to vomit.
The Master seemed to consider this for a moment before rising to his feet. “There’s something about you,” he said to Ty. “You’re far more civilized than most of the men in my Guard. I like that. Civility is all but lost these days.”
A strange look flashed across Ty’s face, but then it was gone behind his congenial smile once more. “My father was a gentleman, my lord. He taught me well.”
The Master nodded, impressed. “I see.”
Ty bowed his head again. “Thank you, my lord.” He bent down and yanked Maggie to her feet. My hands, my blade, and my life. His words echoed in my thoughts, twisting my heart. Every word a lie.
“Where might I secure her, my lord?”
“Oh, that won’t be necessary,” the Master said, settling back into his seat. “After all, what’s a party without a little . . . entertainment?”
“My lord?” Ty stared at him, not understanding.
The Master held up a hand, waving him off, and fixed his stare on Maggie. He cocked his head a little, amusement dancing in his eyes. “Come here, girl.”
Maggie jerked her arm out of Ty’s grasp and walked toward the Master, trying to keep her shoulders back and head held high. She was shaking all over, but it was obvious she was trying not to let her fear show.
“Such a pretty face,” the Master mused, running a finger across her cheek. “Yet the face you wore as a disguise . . . that is the face that interests me the most.” He turned to the crowd, scanning the faces of the guests. “For you see, it belongs to someone I’m dying to know better.”
Oh my God. My stomach turned inside out. He knows who I am. He knows I’m here. All of the planning, the details, everything we’d prepared for tonight was all for naught. Our plan was always going to fail.
I glared at Ty through angry tears. His face was void of all emotion, and he was standing at attention next to the Master. I directed all the malice and hatred I felt burning through me toward him. I hate you. I hate you, Tyler Marek. I will never forgive you for this.
It might have been wishful thinking, but I swore I saw him wince.
“You can come out now, love,” the Master projected, his voice filling every inch of the ballroom. “There’s no point in hiding from me.”
What do I do? My feet were frozen to the floor and my head was spinning. What do I do?
“Oh, come now, there’s no need to be shy.” The Master took a step forward, his arms open. “No? Well, perhaps then you need a little motivation.” He walked back to where Maggie was standing and reached for her hand. “I have no use for the human girl,” he said, his features twisting into a vile grin. “But it is a party. Perhaps some of my men would appreciate a little company.”
Several in the crowd murmured appreciatively as the Master flicked his wrist. One of the Guards moved to Maggie, pushing her toward the crowd.
“Stop!” I yelled, pushing my way through the crowd. “Leave her alone!”
The Master’s face was positively gleeful. “Ah, yes. Come, my dear. I’ve been expecting you.”
The Guard was still towing Maggie toward a group of men who were waiting, their expressions hungry.
Overhead, the lights flickered as a surge of magic rushed through me. “I said, leave her alone.” I was surprised how strong my voice sounded as it carried through the room.
The Master grinned. “See? Was that so hard? I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist. You witches and your code of goodness. A pity, really. You miss out on so much fun.” He leaned in and smelled Maggie’s hair. “Lovely. Yes, I can think of quite a few of my guests who would love a little . . . taste of this delectable flower, hmmm?”
My heart was pounding, and every nerve cell in my body was crackling with energy. “Leave her alone.” The lights flickered again with another wave of power.
The Master leaned forward, his grin so wicked that my heart plummeted to my feet. “But what would the fun be in that?”
He motioned to the Guard who had seized Maggie by the shoulder, and he pushed her forward, the hands of the eager men waiting.
They pulled at her, an audible snap of jaws and competing snarls filling the air. As the men’s faces began changing into something more feral, Maggie’s cry erupted in my ears, catapulting me into action.
“Stop it!” I screamed, throwing my hands out in front of me. A pulse of energy shot through my fingertips. It expanded, the hazy wave rippling forward and engulfing the men who held Maggie. With a whoosh of air and the crack of lightning, the men flew backward, landing unconscious on the ground. Maggie was left standing, and though her dress was torn and she was visibly trembling, she was otherwise unharmed—save for the wound on her arm that still dripped blood.
I sagged, exhausted from the magic still effervescing underneath my skin.
The sound of laughter and applause brought my attention back to the Master. His face was full of joy, and he was applauding me along with the stunned crowd. “Yes, that’s more like it. But now, I’m being awfully rude. Come here, love, and tell my guests here who you are.” He held an arm open as if to embrace me warmly.
When I hesitated, the Master snapped his fingers. “Marek. If you will, please.”
Strong hands gripped my shoulders. I tore my gaze away from the Master and focused on the cold blue eyes staring into mine. Gone was the boy I had kissed in the rain, the one who had challenged me to a corndog-eating contest, who had danced with me like we were the only ones in the room. I didn’t recognize this person at all.
I yanked myself out of his grip. “Don’t touch me!” I sneered.
“Just do what he says, Lainey,” Ty replied, his voice cold, void of any emotion. For a brief second, something flashed in his eyes, but as quickly as it had come, it was gone, replaced with nothing by empty promises and lies.
I hate you, Tyler Marek.
He reached for me again, his hand on my arm. I yanked it away, reared back, and spat in his face. “You can burn in hell,” I said. My voice was strong, but my heart throbbed as I watched him merely reach up and wipe the spittle from his cheek.
The Master laughed. “My, aren’t you a spirited one?” He leaned forward. “Come now, love. I haven’t got all night.”
Seeing as I had no choice in the matter, I walked toward him and allowed him to wrap his arm around me and pull me close. I swallowed the bile that rose in my throat.
“Lainey Sty—” I said, staring out into the crowd. “Lainey DuCarmont.” Warmth bloomed inside me. It was the first time I’d claimed the name as my own. I smiled a little. That one’s for you, Jo.
The crowd began to murmur, their whispers rising to an audible murmur of concern and confusion. The word “DuCarmont” began to spread; like the call of a minor bird, its echo floated through the air.
“That’s right, darling.” The Master kissed the top of my head. “Lainey DuCarmont,” he said with a flourish, his voice loud and carrying. “The last remaining DuCarmont witch.” He motioned to one of the Guards, who nodded his head and left the room. Then he turned back to me. “I’ve been expecting you.”
I swallowed. “But how?” My heart ached with the answer I already knew, but I wanted to hear the Master say it out loud.
“Ah, ah, ah,” The master waved a finger at me. “Let us not get ahead of ourselves. You’ll spoil the surprise.” He winked at me then, tapping playfully at my nose. I fought the urge to bite his hand.
“My friends.” The Master’s voice boomed across the room. “Welcome. Tonight, as promised, will be truly magical, as you’re here to witness history in the making.” He laughed again, the maniacal sound loud in my ear.
The double doors to the ballroom opened, and the Guard had returned, carrying an ornate black wooden box in his hand, which he handed to the Master.
“My lord,” he said with a bow.
The Master released me and took the box from the Guard’s hand. He laughed again and opened the box before flipping it around for all to see.
My knees buckled, and I nearly collapsed.
Sitting inside the box on a cushion of blood-red crushed velvet was a sparkling emerald amulet. The Grimoire. I felt myself sinking to the floor, but the Guard grabbed me and held me upright, before yanking me over to the Master and whirling me around to face the crowd.
The Master’s face had lost some of its glee. He was staring at me with such intensity that I felt shards of ice slice through my veins.
His gaze never leaving mine, he removed the necklace from its place and, tossing the box behind him, walked behind me to fasten the amulet around my neck.
It was heavier than I had expected, and the energy emanating from it set my heart racing. At the same time, the magic was strange. It was like putting on someone else’s shoes. It made me slightly uncomfortable. The metal was hot against my skin, almost too hot, but I welcomed the pain. I needed to keep my mind clear.
The Master was facing me now, his features solemn again and harsh. “A long time ago,” he began, his voice eerily calm as though he were speaking to children, “a foolish warlock took something from me, and now I want it back.”
His words were laced with venom, and I flinched.
“You, Lainey DuCarmont, will undo what your family has done. Do so, and you walk away with your life. Deny me, and the consequences will be beyond your reckoning.”
I shook my head, fighting back tears. “I can’t.”
Behind me, Maggie whimpered.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. The amulet felt like a fifty-
pound weight around my neck. “I can’t do that.”
The Master sneered at me, his eyes flashing.
“My lord,” a voice called out. “Perhaps I may be of some service.”
The Guard who had retrieved the Grimoire stepped forward.
“Yes.” The Master’s face relaxed back into a grin. “Oh, yes,” he crooned, “I think you shall.” He waved his arm forward. “Proceed, sir.”
The Guard walked forward and bowed mockingly at the waist to me. “My lady,” he said, something oddly familiar in his tone. “The Master is a benevolent man, and you try his patience.”
“Benevolent, my ass.” The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them. A tiny spark of amusement bubbled under my skin as the crowd gasped and murmured.
The Guard laughed out loud, but it was a cold laugh. “Give the Master what he seeks and no harm will come to you.” He stepped closer and said so only I could hear, “Unlock the Grimoire, you stupid girl.”
Everything within me was screaming in warning, but I stood my ground, refusing to say a word.
The Guard chuckled again and then looked to the Master, who nodded. His eyes were full of light, and he looked very much like a child who has received a present. I tasted bile again.
“Very well.” The Guard moved closer to me and slowly removed the mask he wore from his face.
Gareth.
I cried out, clamping a hand over my mouth to stop the sound.
The look in his eyes told me the answer, confirmed what I already knew in my heart to be true. My Gareth, the man who had raised me, the man who had always made me feel safe and loved, was not the same man that stood in front of me. This man’s face was severe, his features hard, his eyes dead and unfeeling.
“Gareth?” I finally whispered, not wanting to believe what was in front of me. “What happened to you?”
Gareth smiled, a cruel smile, and bowed again. “Compliments of the Master, my lady.” The words were a knife to my heart.
Lainey.
Josephine appeared, standing a few feet away, tears streaming down her face. As our eyes met, it hit me: those exact words, the look in Gareth’s eyes. I’d seen it all before. Henry.
I bit down hard on my lip to keep from screaming.
“Are you . . .” Every ounce of courage left in me evaporated, and I began to shake, a torrent of emotions rushing over me. “Are you dead?” My voice cracked on the last word and swallowed hard, nearly choking on the panic and tears that were forming.
“It appears we Fae aren’t as strong as we seem,” Gareth replied coolly. “We break fairly easily given the right amount of . . . encouragement.” He grinned.
“Oh, allow me,” the Master said. He snapped his fingers, and then, with a blinding flash of light, the world split open.
At first there was nothing but darkness and haze, but when the perspective shifted, images and figures shot before my eyes, moving so quickly they seemed to blur.
I could still feel the Master’s eyes trained on me, could tell I was still standing in the ballroom, but I was lost in a sea of swirling color—blind except for the flashes he was sending through me.
A swirl took shape, and Gareth stood before me with his back pressed against a brick wall, three of the Master’s men surrounding him. Blood poured down the side of his face, and he was weaponless, but his face twisted in rage and determination as he launched himself at the Guards. He fought like a man with nothing to lose, though I could see his strength was failing. “Lainey,” he said, seconds before they overcame him.
I opened my mouth to scream his name, but before I could even squeak out a syllable, the flash was gone, replaced by a new frame: Gareth, bent and broken, lying on the floor of what looked like some kind of holding cell.
“You will tell me what you know.” A voice, strong and melodious, ripped through the air. My body jerked, reacting to the voice: the Master.
Gareth winced as he tried to move, to sit up. His movements were jerky as though he were fighting against invisible restraints. His face was a swollen mask of blue and black, and blood poured from a wound in his shoulder, but I could tell that it was neither of these that was paining him enough to move like that. He smiled, his teeth coated crimson. “Go to hell,” he spat, and blood splattered the floor.
“Bravery only gets you so far,” the Master fired back, laced with fury. “I guess we’ll have to see how brave you really are.”
Gareth’s body began to twitch and arch violently. His limbs contorted and twisted while his face was a picture of pure agony. As he began to scream, I felt my knees give way and I cried out for him through the haze of colors. “Gareth! Gareth!” It was no use, though. He couldn’t hear me. Instead I watched the man who raised me endure more suffering than I could possibly imagine for one reason only: me.
The terrible wail of his screams punched a hole in my chest, and tears rolled down my cheeks as the scene faded away.
The Master released me, and I doubled over, covering my ears with my hands, desperate for the echo of the screams to end. I was trembling violently, and every cell in my body seemed at war with the images that flashed through my mind like a movie on repeat.
I couldn’t speak, my heart trapped in my throat. I knew I’d never forget that sound; it was tattooed upon my soul.
I waited until I could breathe again, choking down my tears, and looked back up at the stranger in front of me.
“He tortured you to death.”
Gareth nodded, and the Master gave a delighted giggle. The sound was a slap in the face. I couldn’t hold it in any longer. I cried out, unable to stop the tears. “Gareth,” I sobbed.
I put my face in my hands and let the tears take over. It was all over now. “I’m so sorry. . . . This happened because of me. . . . I’m so, so sorry.” Each word punched a hole in the fragments of my heart.
“Lainey?” The voice that called to me was soft, familiar.
I looked up from my hands. Gareth was staring at me. My Gareth.
“I’m still here, Lainey,” he whispered. “Underneath the darkness and beyond death, he has me bound. He promised to bring me back to you if you just do what he says.” A tear rolled down his cheek. “We can be a family again.” He took a step toward me, his hand outstretched. “Please, Lainey, I don’t want to die. Do this for us, Lainey. Do it for me.”
The tortured expression on his face broke me in two. My hand started to lift to meet his.
But another voice, from another time, echoed those same words in my head. I clenched my hand into a fist and forced it down to my side. I looked over at Josephine. Her hand was pressed against her heart, and she was staring at me with such understanding eyes that I nearly lost it completely. “I don’t know what to do,” I whispered.
“Just unlock it, Lainey. Give him what he wants,” Gareth pleaded with me, thinking my words were meant for him.
Josephine’s face was smattered with tears, but she nodded resolutely at me. What you must, her face seemed to say. What I could not do.
A fresh wave of tears poured down my face. It was all I could do to keep my face from showing the anguish that was ripping me to shreds on the inside.
I stepped forward, closing the distance between Gareth and me.
I stared into his face, looked at the man who’d been my only family for my entire life. I could hear his voice in my head, hear his laugh. What I would’ve given to have him wrap his arms around me one last time, to go back to the way things used to be.
As I looked into his eyes, what was left of my heart shattered into a thousand tiny pieces.
“Gareth.” My voice was low, but he could hear me. “I love you so much.”
His eyes softened and he reached for me, pressing his palm against my cheek. “I love you, Lainey Bug.”
“I’m so sorry,” I whispered, pulling back just far enough to reach the dagger I’d hidden in the bodice of my dress.
When he reached for me again, to pull me close, I yanked the blade from its hiding spot and pointed it at the soft skin of his neck.
The kind face went flat, and my Gareth was gone. The face that looked at me now was one of pure evil, the eyes full of hatred and cruelty.
He grabbed my wrist and pushed the blade in just enough to send several rivulets of blood coursing down his skin, where a brand new triangle tattoo was branded into his skin.
“Do it,” he sneered. “Go on.”
My hand was shaking, and the tears made it hard to see. I gripped the handle of the dagger.
He laughed seeing my struggle and released my hand. “You’re weak. You always have been.”
The Master’s face came into view over Gareth’s shoulder, his eyes alive. He was positively gleeful.
“Poor little Lainey,” Gareth continued to taunt me. “Such a scared, weak little girl.”
Just as I was about to lose my nerve, my fingers already loosening on the hilt, a hand reached out and touched my back. Lainey.
I didn’t hesitate.
With renewed strength flowing through me, I let out a wail and thrust the dagger up under the corner of Gareth’s jaw.
You must strike hard and fast, he had once said in our training session. Never lose the opportunity to take down your enemy. He won’t hesitate and neither should you.
The memory was sharp and clear as a spray of warm blood coated my hands and ran down my arms—the very maneuver he had taught me.
Gareth’s eyes went wide as blood gushed from the wound, the color immediately leeched from his skin. His legs gave way, and he swayed forward.
He would’ve fallen face-first, but I caught him and wrapped my arms around him. I couldn’t hold his weight, so we sank to the floor, blood pooling around us.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered over and over again, rocking back and forth, choking on my own tears. “I’m so sorry.”
“Lainey.” His voice was faint, and there was a sickening gurgle as Gareth suffocated on his own blood. I stared into his eyes, and as the last bit of darkness faded away, he was my uncle again. My Gareth.
The room was silent. The crowd stared at me as I held my dead uncle.
Maggie had both hands clamped over her mouth, and tears streamed down her face. Serena was standing a few feet away, at the front of the crowd. Her head was down, but her shoulders were shaking with quiet sobs. Ty stood a few feet away, stoic and unfeeling. I hated him, hated everyone in the room.
I would’ve sat there forever, the whole world titled on its axis, if it hadn’t been for the laughter, such delighted, overjoyed laughter.
I picked my head up.
The Master was clapping his hands, almost doubled over in merriment.
He stood up, whipping his arms out, and addressed the crowd. His smile was so feral the crowd shrank back from it.
“Now,” he said, his voice loud and booming, “how’s that for entertainment?”