Crimson Truth (Onyx Assassins 4)

“I’m more useful here than I ever was in that palace!” Avi hissed.

Hawke shook, his entire body vibrating with anger, his eyes bloodshot and his frame emaciated.

“Brother,” I said softly.

He lifted his dagger, using it to point at the line of us down the table. “Anyone who does not fight to bring her home can no longer be called my brother.”

“I am not yours to order around,” Avi said.

“Fuck this.” Hawke threw the phone onto the table and walked out, slamming the heavy steel door behind him.

“Did he just—” Avi started.

“Hawke is a little tense.” Alek rubbed the bridge of his nose. “You’re certain Samuel can be trusted?”

“I am,” she said, certainty strengthening her voice. “He’s kind to me, Alek. He takes care of me, and he keeps Saint away from me. I know he can be trusted.”

“How?” Alek demanded. “Because I can’t even trust him and he’s currently holding my sister prisoner!”

“Because he trusts me! He told me what this is all about! He’s the reason I even have this cell phone. He left it for me hoping I’d find it. Hoping I’d call you.”

“Then tell me what the hell Saint wants,” Alek growled, his hands curling into fists.

“The throne,” she said softly. “Alek, he’s coming for your throne.”

12

Jocelyn

I gripped the silk glove in my left hand, the gold chain of my necklace in my right.

The moon was full tonight, casting a brilliant silver glow over the thick carpet of green grass in the garden outside the residence. I’d picked a new location to cast tonight, a more secluded spot surrounded by perfectly trimmed hedges on three sides of me. The space next to the hedges opened up to a cobblestone pathway that led to a collection of night-blooming flowers that smelled slightly sweet and carried on the breeze.

I was certain this place was more connected to nature than any other place on the grounds, and I could already feel the power increasing within me because of it. Or could it be the mating mark? I couldn’t help but admit I’d felt stronger ever since I accepted it last night, as if linking myself to Benedict had somehow made me stronger. But that wasn’t a thing, was it?

I sighed. There was so much about this culture and ancient tradition I didn’t understand. I needed to remedy that quick if we were going to survive this, but I had to find Avi first. I’d already cast over four different maps with different sections across the country. If this last sweep of the map of Edgemont didn’t work, I’d need to move on to other countries. Fuck, I hoped to hell she wasn’t wended away to some far off country we’d never even heard of.

Exhaustion hit me like a sledgehammer, my instincts flickering in and out with my power as my failure to find Avi so far blanketed me. My bones ached, my power drinking up the nature around me and feeding off of it like it was dying of thirst. A craving for honey and cinnamon tingled on my tongue, and I half wondered if taking another shot of Benedict’s blood would somehow increase my abilities. It wasn’t like I’d tried to cast after the last two times I’d tasted his blood, but I could feel its after-effects as if I’d drank from the blessed crystal spring in our territory.

My territory. My people. If they didn’t outright kill me, they’d banish me when they found out about what happened, about the mating mark. And my heart broke for the loss already, as if it had already happened. As much as I didn’t want the throne, I definitely didn’t want to never step foot on my homeland again. I loved the people—well, most of them—and there were so many wonderful, good things about the covens. Sure, there was enough unrest to go around, but what form of government didn’t have its challenges?

Anger sizzled in my chest, rising in me like a tidal wave as I continued to lean over that map and cast, my mind half with the spell and the other half falling into a rage.

At least if I were queen, I wouldn’t make bullshit judgment calls and sentence creatures to death simply because they fell in love with someone.

My mother…my fucking cold-hearted mother had been the deciding vote that killed Benedict’s brother. My mate’s brother. And I could feel that old, stinging wound as if it had been delivered to my own chest.

I blew out a breath, forcing the images from my mind. Images that revolved around me and my mother locked in a battle of rage. A final battle where only one of us would be left standing to be queen. And as much as I didn’t want it, I knew I’d do it better than her. I had more compassion in my pinky than she did her whole body, and Luna had even more. With her at my side we could change—