Page 27 of The Aether

“But if it seeps into the skin? And what about the others?”

“Christ, Nate! One problem at a time. Go retrieve my grandfather Stephan’s sword—the one in my ceremony room—and join me at Vivian’s place. Her room is identical to this one. Teleport there and cloak yourself before coming downstairs.” Damian rubbed the spot between his eyes, trying to disperse his tension. “Perhaps you’ll get the jump on Morcant, that wily bastard.”

“Go. I’ll be there momentarily.”

Damian arrived to see all five chairs filled and a gloating Morcant standing in the center of the circle with his arms crossed and a smug expression on his grotesque face.

“Good of you to return, Aether.”

“I realized I forgot something,” he replied flippantly with a careless shrug. A fleeting side glance showed Vivian was out cold, but he suppressed the concern. Rage radiated off Alastair, and the air around him crackled with his indignant energy.

Years ago, Damian and Alastair had created matching pinky rings with tanzanite stones to boost telepathic communication for situations like these. Hoping their bond was still working, Damian spoke through their link.“Take it down, Al. He’s an Arcane Devourer and feeds off the strife.”

Alastair immediately stilled and shot him a sharp look. His nod was barely perceptible but a definite signal he understood.

“I suppose I never got around to asking what you were after, Morcant.” Damian wandered over to the chairs, testing for magical traps. Feeling none, he ventured closer.

“Isn’t it obvious? As much power as I can amass. I’ll start with yours, and then take theirs.” A grin of pure evil intent curled his misshapen mouth. “Then I’ll go for your daughter’s.”

Ruthlessly, Damian cut off his rush of fury. If he gave in to it or the fear for Sabrina or Vivian, Morcant would feast on it as he had with Alastair’s anger.

“Why?” Damian asked simply. Seeing he’d disconcerted Morcant, he elaborated. “I don’t understand why everyone feels this endless need to obtain more than their fair share of magic. Of anything, really. When is enough, enough?”

“Spoken like someone who’s held all the power for centuries.” A sneer curled Morcant’s thin lips. “One who can give or take what isn’t theirs with a snap of the fingers and who’s held the favor of the gods and goddesses.”

“Perhaps they favor me because I don’t abuse my gifts.”

“What about these women?” Morcant pointed at Alastair. “Or him? They haven’t abused their gifts, but they’re not going to live forever like you or me.”

“I’d hardly say Al hasn’t crossed the line, but I understand what you mean.” As Damian edged closer, he called to mind a protection bubble for himself and the others in the room. “Really, though, who wants to live forever, Morcant? Do you honestly believe Alastair hasn’t already seen enough tragedy and sadness to last him an eternity?”

“But I live for the tragedy and sadness, as well you know.”

Nodding, Damian acknowledged the claim. “You’re the first person I’ve encountered who’s able to feed on another’s negative energy. How did you come by this extraordinary ability?”

The megalomaniac’s cruel eyes narrowed briefly as if he couldn’t understand Damian’s lack of reaction. “Radioactive spider. Similar to Spiderman.”

Damian laughed. He’d forgotten how quick-witted the man was. “Good one. But you’re aware, whatever your superpowers, you can’t defeat me, correct? I was designed by the deities for the sole purpose of neutralizing villains like you, Morcant.”

“But you’re as human as the rest of us, Dethridge.” The man produced a small bottle and shuffled closer to Vivian. Inside the glass, the liquid churned, crashing against the sides as if attempting to escape its confines. “With hopes and dreams, feelings of affection, no?”

Again, Damian suppressed his unease. This was the potion Sabrina had warned him about. Casually, he clasped his hands behind his back and shrugged, as if choosing to ignore the implied threat to his wife. “I am human, yes. Harder to kill than most, but for someone as determined as you, it’s doable.”

“I want to repair my body. With your heightened abilities, I can heal myself.”

“Your human form is wasting away, Morcant. You were never meant to live as long as you have. Even my magic can’t fix you for long.”

Waving the bottle of poison around like a drunken sailor with a tankard of rum, he gestured to Damian. “I’m going to cry foul, Aether. Look at you. You appear no older than thirty-five, and yet you’re at least three decades beyond me in years. I can be young, too.”

“That’s not how it works.” Placing his palm on Alastair’s shoulder, Damian removed the spell holding his ropes in place. Adding a little charge to Al’s already formidable gifts, he encased his friend in the invisible protection bubble. Next, he sauntered to Taryn and did the same. “Being an Aether requires your DNA to be altered from a normal human. Anything you steal from me would cause you to age even faster than you are, since you don’t have that altered DNA.”

“I don’t believe you,” Morcant snapped. “And I know what you’re doing. Stop now, or I explode this bottle in your wife’s pretty face. You wouldn’t want to see her marred, would you?”

“Estranged wife,” Damian replied dispassionately. A pang struck his heart as he saw Vivian’s lids flutter open and hurt fill those glorious eyes of hers.

Cocking his head, the other man studied him. “Do you feel her pain, Dethridge? I do. It’s like ambrosia.” Breathing deeply, Morcant smiled. “Pure ambrosia. Oh, and the strength it gives me.”

“I’m surprised Viv can be upset by me at all. She has ice in her veins and feels nothing at all.” Damian hoped like hell she’d take the hint and shut down any stronger emotion.

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