Page 78 of The Aether

“I hope Morcant sucks your magic dry, girl. When he does, I’ll teach you respect.”

“One has to earn respect, Carl,” Morcant stated succinctly. Stepping from the shadows, he approached the bars. “Go.”

After Carl scurried away, Morcant spoke to her. “Your resistance is impressive, but you’ll soon grow tired, and when you do, I’ll feed off the untethered emotions of your dreams.”

“You won’t live that long.” Grinning was harder in the face of his confidence, but Sabrina managed it.

His anger made his eyes smaller, but he didn’t reply. Instead, he pointed to her mother’s body on the floor just outside the cell wall. Sabrina knew if she looked, she’d be unable to block out the sight, and he’d gain the upper hand. Shutting her eyes, she hummed a cheerful tune Grandma Evie had taught her. Once again, she recalled the pancake contest and how Grandpa Nate had winked at her as he magically altered Papa’s pancakes to taste bad, behind his back. Papa, not to be outdone, undid the damage and had altered Grandpa Nate’s.

“You’re both cheating!” she’d cried out.

“Of course we are, honey,” Grandpa Nate said. “Where’s the fun in an honest contest?”

Papa had burst out laughing, so hard, that he doubled over and wiped tears from his eyes.

“I’ll win in the end, child,” Morcant promised from far outside her memories.

And he would if Papa didn’t find her soon.

CHAPTER27

Apressing urgency consumed Damian as he awaited Draven’s return. If he didn’t get to his daughter soon, he’d go completely mad. To distract himself, he poured three drinks and handed one to Alastair and the other to Ronan.

“You never told me what Isis said, Al. Should I be concerned?” he asked.

“There wasn’t much she could say that we didn’t already know. Someone in the Authority is tampering with your magic. But whoever it is, they aren’t sanctioned by the Authority council members.”

“Did you ask if the Fates are involved?”

“I did. She couldn’t say with any certainty.”

Damian rolled his eye as he sipped his brandy.

“She would’ve, if she had the answers, Dethridge. I’m positive of it,” Alastair said gently. “She adores Sabrina and wouldn’t see her hurt.”

Nodding absently, Damian sauntered to the French doors and stared out over his gardens. “I lived for almost two hundred years without realizing what was missing from my life. With the birth of my daughter…” A pain squeezed his heart, and he pressed his palm to his chest. This was what it must be like for mortals dealing with heart attacks. “She’s everything, Al,” he said hoarsely. “My child is everything I live for. I’d give myself up to Morcant if she could go free.”

“It’s sorry I am for failin’ ya both,” Ronan said heavily. The weight of his guilt caused his shoulders to sag.

“You didn’t.” Damian turned and cast him a tight smile. “It takes an entire village to keep up with Beastie. Especially when she devises her own plans, like today.”

“Have you been able to locate her?” Castor asked, entering the room and crossing to the sideboard to fix himself a drink.

“Yes and no.” Damian moved to join him and held out his glass for a refill. “We know she’s in an old warehouse in New York. Fintan messaged to say they were converted years ago, as we expected.” After another sip of brandy, he sighed. “Scrying only shows her in a cell, and Viv…”

Goddess! He still couldn’t believe his wife was gone. If he thought about it at all, his grief would explode and he’d be in a world of hurt. Yes, they’d been separated for a time, and yes, they’d had a rocky marriage in the interim, but she’d been safe. He’d watched over her and Sabrina, prepared to do whatever was necessary to keep them that way.

“I don’t see how a modernized building could resemble a cavern with cages.” Alastair distracted Damian from his morose thoughts with his comment.

“Sounds more like a dungeon,” Castor said as he lifted his glass to his mouth.

“Good Christ! Ofcourse!” Wrapping an arm around Alex’s neck, Damian dragged him forward for a loud, smacking kiss on the head. “You brilliant man.” Facing the others, he grinned. “She’s in the tunnelsbelowthe building.”

Alastair rose and tugged at his cuffs. “Let’s go bring her home.”

“We need Blane. He should be wrapping up his ceremony.”

“What the feck is he doin’ that’s taking so bloody long, then?” Ronan shoved off the wall he’d been holding up and set his empty tumbler on a side table.

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