Cormac’s lips curled into a cruel smile. “What? Nothing to say? Don’t you miss me?”
“Where is my son?” Her voice was low, controlled.
He burst into laughter at her words, but his eyes burned maniacally as he directed the power of his gaze on her. “Don’t be rude, Libby. Were you not taught any manners in that pitiful excuse of a house you grew up in?”
“I won’t play your game, Cormac.”
Cormac jumped down in one fluid movement, and Libby flinched as the weight of his power washed over her. “You’ll do whatever I want you to do.” His expression changed then as his fingers reached out to touch a stray curl that had fallen loose from her ponytail. She cringed but stood her ground.
“You look so much like her.”
“Like who?” A sick feeling began to wind its way through her belly, and sweat broke out on her forehead as dread swirled alongside her already jumbled emotions. She just prayed that Skye was using her time wisely and had found little Logan.
“Your mother, Aislyn.”
“My mother’s name is Patti. I have—” Understanding dawned then, and Libby took a step back, nearly tripping as she lost her balance.
Cormac’s deep laughter reverberated around the chamber, and she clamped her hands over her ears as images came and went, crashing through her brain in a chaotic mess that left her feeling weak.
One constant was threaded throughout every emotion and memory she was feeling. And it was the face of the man standing directly in front of her. Her eyes looked up at him, not wanting to ask, but she opened her mouth nonetheless.
“Who the hell are you?”
“You haven’t figured it out yet?” She watched warily as Cormac cocked his head to the side, disappointment clouding his cold features. “Libby, try a little harder. It will come to you.”
She shook her head, not wanting to believe what the bastard was insinuating. She just couldn’t go there. Not now. She pushed his words to the back of her mind, feeding her anger as she focused on the reason she had come. She shook her head angrily and shouted, “Just give me my son and I’ll lead you to the woman.”
Cold rage passed over Cormac’s features, and she felt his power billow out as he snarled down at her. “You really are no different than your mother. It was her biting tongue and temper that finally got the best of her, and I had to put a stop to it.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“Remember what I told you yesterday, Libby? That it was only because I allowed you to live that you were breathing air?” He laughed harshly. “Your mother didn’t understand the power I wield, and she pushed me one time too many.”
Libby tried to swallow the fear that was rising and spreading like wildfire through her veins, but it was impossible. She watched Cormac’s pupils dilate and the whites recede, enveloped by a deep blackness that crept over them. His voice lowered to a strange harmonic timbre that was almost hypnotizing. She resisted the pull, but barely.
“I destroyed her, Libby, and I will not hesitate to destroy you or your child. Tell that eagle bitch to make herself known, or I will blast every trace of you from this earth, and you can join your mother in hell.”
“Christ, Cormac! Did no one teach you any manners? Or was that something they didn’t bother with at warlock academy?”
Libby’s eyes whipped upward and she sucked in air so quickly that she felt faint. Skye was standing about a hundred feet away from them, and cradled in her arms was a small child. Pain lanced across Libby’s heart as her eyes feverishly latched onto the small form. But his little head was buried deep within Skye’s arms, and the only thing visible was creamy flesh and dark curls.
Cormac turned from her, focusing all of his attention on Skye and the child. Silently, Libby began to back away, her fingers reaching for gun she’d concealed in her pants. She had given the knife to Skye, but now, as she gazed up at the woman who held her son, she wondered if she’d made a terrible mistake.
What the hell was Skye up to? She’d been told to take Logan and run. To make sure that the little boy was returned to Jaxon in case she herself didn’t make it out of the temple.
Cormac’s laughter sliced through the air, and it had the same effect as long fingernails running over a chalkboard. Libby’s skin broke out in a rash of goose bumps and every hair on her body stood on end.
Cormac’s laughter abruptly stopped as he moved closer to where Skye held her child. “I’m impressed,” he said to her, his words enunciated carefully. The temperature inside the chamber had dropped considerably, so much that a fine mist shot from his mouth as he continued. “The little bird has grown up. Your father must be so proud. But wait.” He paused, and Libby felt him gather more power to himself. “He’s not around to witness this, is he? It would be next to impossible, considering I ate his life force and he’s nothing but a lost soul.”
“You fucking bastard! I will see you dead, Cormac, if it’s the last thing that I do.”
“Careful for what you wish for, Skye—”
“Cut the crap, Cormac! You will not kill me, the same as you won’t harm a hair on the head of this little boy. You need both of us.”
Libby caught Skye’s eyes for a brief moment as she continued to back away, and her heart constricted painfully as the child in her arms moved slightly, and a pair of eyes as dark as midnight gazed across the room at her. She couldn’t help the sob that escaped her lips, and she froze, suddenly unsure of what to do.
“Come with me and the child and his mother can leave unharmed,” Cormac said to Skye as his voice dropped even lower. There was no emotion in it, just a coldness that matched the now freezing temperature.