Wicked Release (Wicked 3 3)

” he repeated. “Give Sarah anything she wants.” He turned and the intensity of his stare burned into her like a brand. “And Con? Put her in my room and stay with her. Protect her while I fill the others in.”

Con? Who was he speaking to? Sarah was dizzy and out of sorts. How long had it been since she’d spoken this much? Since anyone had spoken to her? She was surrounded, only this time people weren’t trying to harm her. Or were they?

She jumped when a man’s large hand cupped her shoulder. Sparks again. Hot, wild sparks licking at her skin through the comforting gesture.

The tall man with deep moss green eyes and a strong, handsome face made her mouth fall open. Not Lorie. This man’s rough good looks were far from angelic. They were intimidating. Masculine. But there was no mistaking the similarity of the feeling. The instantaneous knowledge and passion. Her magic tangled with his where he touched her and they both gasped. He sensed it too?

He swore beneath his breath when she flinched. “Impossible.”

The tiny woman coughed loudly in an obvious attempt to regain their attention. “Conway, take her upstairs, there’s a good boy. We’ll deal with your reaction later. One impossible thing at a time.”

Her fists clenched in front of her and she shrieked in surprise as the man lifted her in his arms. Her body reacted to all the energy whirling through her, lighting up from within. Her mind, however, still raced with denial and suspicion. “Put me down at once. I am no invalid or helpless child.”

One side of his mouth quirked up, but he didn’t respond. He turned away from the small group of Magians, who still appeared dumbstruck by her presence, and headed for the stairs.

Sarah glanced back at Lorie over a muscular shoulder. Seated on the floor and appearing nearly fully recovered, he smiled at her. “Told you I found her.”

“Yes.” The man carrying her pulled her closer, as if she would escape his grasp. “Yes, Lorie, you did.”

Chapter Two

She had the sneaking suspicion these people were preparing her to be sacrificed. How else could she explain the plush bed with the cloud-like linens, so soft on her skin? The feast they had brought that was meant for her alone, though she knew it would feed an entire family? She was queen for a day, a title rife with potential dangers.

Leaning back in the steaming, scented water, spelled to massage her aching muscles, she huffed in frustration. How else could she explain all these wonders?

Over the years, when the scenery of her prison began to change, she’d deduced the spell was a living one—taking experiences from the world outside and allowing some of it to filter in to her. From what she’d witnessed, things had changed. Violent inventions had advanced. She’d seen wagons of war that set off explosions and flying machines that rained fire from the sky. She recalled being chased by a human mob whose weapons had changed from stones to handheld devices that shot bolts of lightning into her skin—a painful and disheartening experience.

None of those horrors had prepared her for this bath. Or this room, which was a wonder beyond her imagination. A human wonder, not a spell. Their ability at invention certainly paralleled any inborn Magian skill.

Despite all she’d experienced, all the deaths at angry human hands, it was never the people without magic she despised for her plight. She always remembered the true villains had been Magians. A few families in particular. They had kept all this from her—taken her freedom and her family and left her abandoned in another world created just for her. A place out of time, where she was utterly alone and surrounded by darkness. Where her healing abilities were useless, and her existence was never-ending.

The pacing footsteps on the other side of the door alerted her to his presence. Conway. Con, he’d insisted she call him. He hadn’t been out of shouting distance since she was brought here. She had to admit she was no longer alone, but she had to wonder. Was he her new guard? Was she a prisoner here now, able to live and communicate with others, but unable to leave?

She had to know what was going on. She was freed from the curse, but still weak and lacking information. She cupped her hands and scooped the heated water into her palms. A child’s spell, but it should do the trick.

The water clouded, obscuring her hands with a simple phrase. Images began to form in the reflection. It was the group downstairs. And the angel named Lorie. She leaned closer, bending over her hands to hear what they were saying.

His mother was the first to speak. “What were you thinking, jumping into a spell that complicated? And why didn’t you leave when you had the chance?”

Lorie ran a hand through his wet, newly washed curls and shrugged. “I’m honestly not entirely sure how it happened, but how could I leave? She was still trapped. Still suffering and alone. I knew you would find a way to get us out once Harrison knew where I was.”

The young woman with dark hair and grey eyes banged her hand on the table. “How? How did you know, Lorie? You didn’t even know I’d run away. You didn’t know Callie was actually a Magian. How could you know any of us would be able to find a loophole in that complicated web of a three hundred year plus old spell?”

Three hundred years?

Her angel smiled innocently. “Because that’s what I do, Harrison. I know things. I admit I was a little distracted when you took your unexpected holiday. I hadn’t seen that coming. When you’re in there you lose track of the outside world. But I’ve known about Callie for years now, and I knew Jenner would tell her when the time was right. I also knew that my sister, the most powerful witch of her generation, would join forces with the rest of this talented family and find the answers I couldn’t. Find a way to grant Sarah Blackwood her freedom.”

His smile dimmed as though recalling something sad and Sarah frowned. No one as beautiful as he was should ever be sad.

“I told you I was looking for our ancestor, remember? He was the you of his generation, Harrison. The most powerful. From my research, he was looking into a way to break some kind of complicated spell—this spell, but disappeared without a trace before he could. Once I arrived, I literally stumbled on his location. That is, after my first death.”

Sarah was confused. No one had tried to break the spell. She’d never sensed anyone other than her true tormentor during those first, horrifying years. And even he eventually stopped coming. There had been no one else until Lorie. Who was he talking about? What had he found?

The young Harrison must have read her mind. “What did you find? And what the hell do you mean by first death?”

Lorie’s sharp laugh was filled with anger and pain. “You don’t want to know. And besides discovering that the third part of my triad had been tortured for centuries in a book I’d walked past in the library for as long as I can remember? When I woke in my designated spot for round two of the killing games, I found a body. Our ancestor’s body to be exact. He’d been murdered and pushed into the spell along with her, by one of the people who put her in there in the first place, I imagine. It had to have happened before he was placed inside; otherwise the power of the curse would have revived him. The same way it kept reviving me.”

The matching expressions of disgust and sorrow were, in an odd way, comforting to Sarah. They stood in stark contrast with the remembered sneers of delight she’d seen before she was locked away.