Page 30 of Vanquished Gods

“Where are the guards?” I whispered.

“I disposed of them, and the other two bodies you left behind. But we have a problem—more than one, it would seem. Your glamour is fading. And the Magister Solaris is currently on his way here with a retinue of soldiers around him. The Pater called them up here for a meeting about tomorrow’s purification. A witch-finding. We need to go.”

“We need to hear their plans,” I whispered back.

His metallic gaze slid past me as he looked into the room, and he took a deep breath. “Fine,” he whispered. “Call to the Pater and tell him you’re leaving. We’ll hide in the wardrobe.”

“Darling!” I called out in Verica’s voice. “I’d so love to get you into bed, my lord, but the Magister Solaris is on his way. The guards just told me they’re retiring to give you privacy for the meeting. Good night, darling!”

I cringed, hoping it wouldn’t raise too many suspicions. After a minute, I heard his feeble voice call from the bath: “Good night, Verica.”

Sion swept past me into the room. Silently, he opened the wardrobe doors and gracefully sat inside. The Pater’s long robes draped over him. His large body took up most of the space in there, but he pulled me by the waist into his lap.

He reached out, grabbing the wardrobe doors to shut us into the dark. I pushed the fabric of the Pater’s robes away from me to escape the cloying scent of incense.

I curled up in Sion’s lap, and he wrapped his arms around me. “They’ll be here any moment,” he whispered. “I can hear them approaching.”

Beneath me, I felt his muscles flex. I licked my lips at the feel. I was acutely aware of just how powerful he was, of how closely I was pressed against his large, muscled body. I felt tiny next tohim. I shifted a little on his lap, and his fingers flexed on my waist. He smelled faintly of musk and woodsmoke.

“Did you learn anything?” he whispered.

“He draws his strength from the witches’ magic. That’s what the trials do. Supposedly, magic is forbidden during the trials, but we all use it to survive. It’s just a matter of not getting caught. The Pater uses the trials as a deterrent against using witchcraft, but they serve a greater purpose for him. He finds the strongest witches to feed on. Those who come out alive are tested for magic, and he then siphons it off them. He burns the rest. That’s how he stays immortal.”

“Bloody hell. That’s how his magic works.” His muscles shifted behind me again, and he swept my hair out of the way so he could peer through the crack in the wardrobe. His lips were distractingly close to the side of my face.

My breath quickened. I reminded myself that we needed the town name of tomorrow’s purification. We needed to tell those poor people to run before it was too late.

I closed my eyes and leaned back into Sion, thanking whatever gods might exist for allowing me to get that information out of the Pater.

There was a warmth in the way Sion smelled, and it made me want to nestle my head into the crook of his throat. It reminded me of a heated cabin in the mountains. Was that his amoris?

My eyes sprung open and widened with surprise as Sion reached under my bum and shifted me on his lap. What had I been sitting on that made him uncomfortable? His large hand slid around my waist again, and I felt acutely aware of it through the thin fabric of my dress, radiating that vampiric magnetism over my skin, making my heart race.

Could hehearmy heart racing?

As a firm knock sounded on the door, I peered out through the tiny crack in the wardrobe.

The door creaked open, and an apprehensive voice called out, “Blessed Pater? It’s your Magister Solaris. You summoned me?”

From inside the bathroom, the Pater’s frail voice echoed back, “Yes. I need help getting out of the tub.”

“Shall I come in? There were no guards outside.”

“Yes. They were dismissed. Leave your soldiers out there to guard, will you?”

The Magister started to issue commands—two soldiers outside, the other three in the room with him. Through the crack, I watched as the Magister crossed to the bathroom. I strained my ears to hear their conversation, but it was muffled.

After another minute, he helped the Pater cross back into his bedroom, dressed in a white nightgown.

“They’re on their way already, yes?” said the Pater.

The Magister guided him to the bed. “They will arrive in Lyramor by dawn. I’m certain of it.”

The Pater groaned as he dropped into his bed. “It needs to be done in one day this time, understood? Complete the trails in Lyramor.”

“You don’t want us to bring them back to Ruefield?” asked one of the soldiers, doubt in his voice.

“Only after you find the witches, not for the trials,” said the Pater, his voice rising. “Complete it quickly. Things are getting out of control these days. We need to move faster to rid the world of the Serpent’s evil influence. One day of trials, to be done in Lyramor. Trap them all in the city gates. Start to slaughter everyone. Kill the kids, see if the parents use magic to save them. Keep your eye on anyone who uses their magic, and bring them to me for a private interrogation here. Then I’ll send them to Penore to burn in Sootfield.”

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