Page 169 of Wicked Heirs

Because I’d touched black magic.

I’d tried to save my son, to reverse the transformation, but he’d stopped me and literally gotten on his knees and begged meto forgo my pursuit. He’d claimed he’d needed me to accept him as he was, but I wasn’t fool enough to believe that. He knew I’d always accept him, no matter what. I’d been doing it for him. He’d only said that to protectmefrom becoming forever tainted by wielding high-level black magic, which was where things had been headed.

But now, looking at the prone form of Constantine, it had me regretting that I hadn’t at least taken his life. It would have been brutal justice for my son, for us all.

There were two dozen of his acolytes surrounding him.

Another three dozen were gathered around the room. Vampires, magic-wielders, werewolves, and Light Fae.

Shit.It was an issue battling different species in one shot, because they all possessed different abilities, so it was hard to guard against attack.

I caught sight of theHellbornthat Xavier had warned me about.

This particular one was a golden staff flaming wildly with hellfire at the top end.

It was being held by a sorcerer who was more than just a little familiar to me.

Trent Astor.

He was a disgraced former member ofExemplar,having been kicked out by Abigail for violating our policies and serving his own interests rather than those of the supernatural world. In essence, he was a power whore.

My optimal strategy was to snatch theHellborn, then raise my ward, forcing them all out in a tidal wave of magic, but with him in possession of it, a five-hundred-year-old experienced sorcerer, it would be much more difficult and time-consuming. And time wasn’t something I had available to me with five dozen of them filling the room.

I watched two of them cry out excitedly and I zoned in on them carrying the ornate carved black jar that contained theVitalium.It was sealed by my magic, but that wouldn’t be the case much longer once it got within reach of that damned hellfire.

Any notion of waiting for Abi had just flown out the proverbial window.

There wasn’t time.

Especially as I watched that fool, Astor, approach the two holding the jar raised high in premature celebration.

I bolted down the steps and swept my hand to the left in an arc, sending the two dozen gathered around Constantine sailing across the room and crashing into the stone wall, bottles, vials and ingredients smashing to pieces at the harsh magical impact.

After downing them all in one shot, I turned to my right to inflict the same.

But several of them dove for cover and others moved out of range.

Ofthatmagical move.

Not this one.

I slammed my palm down onto the ground and created a violent shockwave with my magic that ripped them off their feet.

Cries of surprise and groans of pain filled my ears as I went to storm over there to finish it and take back theVitaliumjar.

But then a ferocious white-hot pain shot through my lower back.

“Fuck!” I roared.

I only just managed to crane my neck to see Trent Astor there and shoving theHellborninto my back, the raging hellfire burning through my suit and shirt and deep into my skin.

I smelled burning flesh in moments as the agony just increased evermore with each passing moment.

“Not today, almighty one. No wild magical theatrics from you,” he said.

“You’re making a mistake,” I gritted out, trying to keep my magic alive to finish off the acolytes, some of which were already getting back to their feet.

He pulled the staff away, only to thrust the fire into the back of my right leg.

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