Page 82 of Owned

He approached slowly, and his pale eyes burned with anger.

“And what do you bring me?” he said in a low voice. “Rumors... Whispers....” He paused briefly, and the red orb that hovered above his desk glowed brightly with the force of his rage. “Nothing!”

Lucian’s shout reverberated off the walls.

“You have to be patient,” I began.

“Patience?” he cried. “What has patience ever done? Hm? It has given my enemiestimeto find my weaknesses.Timeto organize—”

He laughed, but the sound was devoid of warmth or humor. “My sons… to think that I trusted you to protect this family. Our name. Our… legacy…”

Lucian gestured vaguely with one hand, and the orb floated closer. The mist that surrounded it thickened and darkened. Deep red smoke spiraled outward and spilled over the floor. Three distinct tentacles of magic that encircled each of us and crawled up our legs.

“Father—” Valen croaked and then he let out a grunt as the smoke tightened around his thigh.

I stood still, unwilling to show any weakness, as my father’s magic crept up my leg and twined around my waist and torso. He was trying to demean us—threaten us—but it wouldn’t work.

I knew my brothers better than that.

Still…

He’d never been so overt in his threats before.

Bastian, too, was silent as the red tendril snaked up his leg. The smoke wrapped around his chest and neck, then rose to his mouth and slipped between his lips. He gagged slightly and tried to jerk his head away, but Lucian’s magic held it firmly in place.

“Do you have something to say?” Lucian asked with a dangerous glint in his eyes. “Or have you forgotten how to speak?”

Bastian writhed against the dark coil and made an indecipherable noise that sounded faintly like a curse.

Lucian’s grin was savage, and he flicked his wrist, releasing Bastian’s mouth, but leaving the rest of us tightly bound with smoke that bit at our skin like nettles.

Valen let out a choked cry as he was lifted off the ground.

“Well?” Lucian asked as Bastian caught his breath.

“My rat has found a nest,” my youngest brother managed to say between gasps for air.

Lucian’s interest piqued visibly, but he didn’t release us. Red smoke crept up Valen’s neck and wrapped around it like a noose.

“A nest,” he repeated. “And what else?”

“The meeting,” Bastian said. “It’s happening…. soon.”

“Whereare they meeting?” Lucian’s voice was a whisper, but it cut through the room like the blackened silver dagger in the grimoire's spine.

Bastian winced as the smoke looped around his neck. “The first location—it was a lie. We… We’re following a new lead.”

The smoke constricted, and it grew colder as it tightened around me.

The bastard.

“Tell me,” Lucian said.

My father’s pale eyes burned in the half light and I knew that this was too much fun for him to stop. I had to be quick.

“There’s a new group forming—they’re trying to gather support. We didn’t want to alert them by moving too soon.”

The shadows lengthened behind Lucian as he took in my words, and then, finally; the smoke loosened.

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