Page 82 of Cursed Heirs

“What?” I choked. “You’re sure?”

He nodded. “I am.”

“Fuck,” I ground out, feeling nauseous. “Against her will like that… it’s… I can’t even.”

“He’s damaging her. In so many ways. Even if we can pull her out, I honestly don’t know what will be left remaining.”

“Of her?”

“And of our bond to her. I caught her attention at one point, but at Constantine’s interference, her recognition and her briefly connecting with me just flitted away.”

“Wait,” I said, hope sparking. “This is good.”

“Good? How?”

I frowned at him. “You weren’t near your father when he was dabbling in black magic?”

“No. He wouldn’t allow it. He forcibly kept me away. I only saw the aftermath.”

“Okay. That’s why you don’t see it for what it really is then.”

“See what exactly?”

“Iwasnear my dad when he went the black magic route three years ago, so I know what the infection looks like up close. The fact that you caught her attention and established a connection, even briefly, is a huge thing. Him interfering demonstrates that even more. He was so worried about the impact it would have on her, on his control over her, that he intervened. Black magic infection at that level consumes and drags the subject into the undertow to such an extent that their thoughts aren’t even their own, especially when being directed by somebody else using the infection to their advantage. But she saw you through that.” As he nodded, taking my words in, I shifted my weight and asked him, “Tell me what else happened. The whole picture.”

He did, recounting every little detail with his usual thoroughness.

When he was done, it took me some time to absorb the weight of it all.

As I started to, something stood out to me in particular.

“You said she had a collar around her neck?”

He nodded.

“Was it studded? Glowing with his magic through said studs too?”

“Yes. You know of it?”

“I do, because once my dad found out about the creation of a bunch of them by some fucked-up coven a few years back, he hadSabre Techcreate one of his tech-magic fusions in the form of a key that can remove it, even after it’s been sealed by the owner.”

“It’s reinforcing his brainwashing?”

“In essence. The collar works with black magic to target the mind, to overwhelm it, in fact, and keep the effect there so control can be much easier had. With him already infecting her in… other ways… it shows how strong she is that he needed to employ a device like this as well, that he couldn’t sustain the effects for very long or to enough of a degree. It means she’s fighting it, Orpheus. She’s fucking well fighting him.”

A spark lit his eyes. “Then I have an idea.”

Before he could reveal it to me, a rumbling voice nearing the kitchen took our attention.

“I can’t feel you flexing your magical muscle as you’re so fond of doing being the closeted megalomaniac and prideful wench that you are, but that doesn’t mean you’re not here. Show yourself, Abigail! How dare you bring me here? I told you I’d never set foot in your home again after what happened a few years ago where you made a pass at me, then kicked me out because you couldn’t handle being drawn to an abhorrent dark creature. Remember that? I sure do. It led to years of hatred, didn’t it? Your doing, just like three years ago was all your doing, and look where we’re at now. Answer me and show yourself! And bring me my son, or you’ll rue the day that—”

He rounded the corner, storming into the kitchen and pulling up short as he saw Orpheus and me.

Wow.

He stared between us for several moments of intensity and awkwardness.

“Father, you and Abigail?” Orpheus spoke, finally cutting through the tension.

---