Page 111 of The Cruelest Undead

He didn’t even look up from his desk.

Jacques couldn’t give anything away. This was about precision and perfection.

He needed her in position so that he could use the spell to get what he needed. She was almost on top of the demon trap. While she could break a normal one with magick, she couldn’t break this one.

Not.

Even.

Close.

“What do you want, Fate?” he asked, nonchalantly with as much boredom in his voice as possible.

The act had to stay in place.

She entered even closer, and put her hand on the chair. The minute she did, she saw his mind, and knew what he was planning.

She stepped backward to avoid what she saw in his memories, and laughed.

“Nice try.”

When he looked up, he said the words and made magick happen. The language was as old as Rinnon, and made by Lilith.

It only seemed right.

The second he finished the incantation, another cage fell, but this one was Fate proof.

Her blood made sure of that.

When it sealed around her, she laughed, amused that he’d do something so useless to trap her.

“Do you think this puny cell will keep me in?” she asked, touching the one bar.

The second she did, she screamed in pain as ice surged through her hand, burning her.

That’s how cold it was.

“What was that?” he asked, smiling. “Did you say something to me?”

She gasped.

“What did you do?”

He leaned back in his chair, put his heels on the desk, and steepled his fingers.

This round went to him.

“That’s a special spell. You can’t break it. You aren’t strong enough. Only me, or Rinnon can. Thanks for the help on this one.”

She stared at him.

“How did you do this?”

He was honest.

“I have your blood. See, you may have gone into my mind, wandered around, but Death is a mystery. No one knows when I come or go, or my plans.”

He held up a tiny little vial, and it swung from a gold, magical chain.

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