Hels's Gauntlet [Forbidden Legacy 3] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) (18 page)

Yards away, just under the fringe of trees undamaged in the building’s destruction, Domoir waited, his engine idling. Trust the Glashtyn to know exactly when to fetch him. Or maybe Elijah called him. It was Elijah who introduced them nearly two centuries before when Jacob insisted that he was ready to take on the world on his own.

He walked across the field, avoiding the scattered debris. The fairies had gone, carrying away the last of his gift. The door opened before he arrived, and he slid into the heated confines and patted the dashboard. “Take us home, boy. And thank you.”

The SUV growled a welcome. Jacob leaned his head back and closed his eyes, letting the Glashtyn handle the drive. For the first time in their two centuries together, he didn’t try to control the situation.

He trusted.

God, he hoped it was enough.

“Cassandra, you should sit down.”

“I’m pregnant, not broken, Hels. I’ll sit down when I damn well feel like sitting down.” She scrolled through another website on her tablet, pacing from one end of the solarium to the other. Agitation strolled through her blood, pausing to excite every nerve along its route. It wasn’t just that she didn’t want to sit down or her anger at Helcyon and Jacob for their actions, or even her worry for Jacob still so far away on the East Coast.

Fear strummed along her spine. She didn’t know what else to label the riot of emotions skittering over her, tightening her skin, fluttering her belly, burning behind her eyes, or souring her stomach. That she could still walk back and forth seemed a miracle, but whatever it was, moving helped.

If she sat down, she might just cry. And she was too angry to cry right now. The news reports coming down the wire were the best they could hope for, slanting neither for nor against Wizard and Fae. Some articles speculated that anti-Fae hate groups were involved. They shook their metaphorical fingers and cried shame at the rise in hate crimes.

While that might seem a positive, it also clearly illustrated the number of bombings, attacks, and warnings received by Fae and Wizards and those who associated with them. Increasing numbers pointed to sharp climbs in quantity and frequency. The conference center bombing came just twelve hours after death threats to the United Nations in the hours after they announced the Danae’s upcoming speech to the General Assembly and another bombing in a St. Petersburg occult shop owned and operated by an outted Wizard.

The hate multiplied. The terrorist threat level was set at Orange, but many reports stated that they believed it would be elevated to red in no time. Gatwick and Heathrow Airports in London were on high alert while the French Prime Minister and the Japanese Finance Minister announced their trips to Washington D.C. postponed indefinitely.

“Cassandra,” Hels repeated in his too-patient tone for what must have been the tenth time.

She whirled on him. “Stop it.”

“Stop what?” He stood there, bronze arms folded across his chest. The long, silken length of his black hair tied back away from his face and revealing his sexy, lickable pointed ears. Her pussy warmed just looking at him.

“Stop saying my name like that will fix this. I’m mad at you. I’m furious with you. I don’t have words to describe how angry with you I am, but I’m embracing my anger and you don’t get to sex your way out of the argument.” It sounded stupid, but being knocked cold by their draining magic, and waking to Helcyon tucking her away in bed like she was a baby, zoomed her up a path so far beyond rage that it defied her every attempt to categorize it.

And maybe if it had just been that, she wouldn’t be quaking inside her skin, but to add insult to injury, he forbade her from leaving, physically and magically blocking her until they’d blown her room apart.

A shudder caressed her spine. Blown it apart, literally.

“Has it occurred to you that we had a good reason for what we did?” The interesting choice of phrasing barely scratched the surface of her ire.

“You know”—she slapped the tablet down on the table, ignoring the possibility that she’d just cracked the screen with the force she applied—“that thought did cross my mind, but the high-handed, arrogant attack that left me unconscious obliterated my need to be rational on the subject.”

“You’re behaving like a child, Cassandra. Sit down and we will discuss this.”

Her eyes crossed at the patience in his words, the condescension echoing through the verbal pat on the head. She dug her nails into her palm before she picked up the tablet and hurled it at him. “Hels, you might be over a thousand years old, but I am not a child. I’m a grown woman, more than capable of making my own choices, something you should remember considering I
chose
you and I
chose
Jacob.”

She didn’t threaten to unchoose either one because, despite the red tinge hemming her vision and the unbearable pressure squeezing her lungs, she’d sooner cut off a limb than detach herself from either man.

But, goddammit, they have got to stop just making choices for me!

“I will stop treating you like a child when you stop stomping around as though in the middle of a temper tantrum. You were behaving in an irrational, dangerous manner, and you could have—and most likely would have—harmed the people you care so much for.” Her anger didn’t even ruffle the placid surface of his expression. “Sit. Down.”

The last two words struck her. Her feet ached, and her legs burned. She’d been on them all day at the disaster site. She’d juggled reporters, asking and answering questions, and faced off with a Wizard that might as well have been the boogeyman considering his involvement in so much senseless death. She really did need to sit down. She walked over to one of the great wing-backed chairs tucked strategically around the normally sunny room. Sinking down into the soft upholstery, relief washed through her and eased the burn on the soles of her feet.

Helcyon pressed a cold bottle of water into her hands, and she slanted a look up at him. “Just because I listened doesn’t mean you’re off the hook.”

“Off the hook for what?” Jacob strode into the room, his face gray with exhaustion and covered in filth. She thrust the bottle of water back at Helcyon and pushed herself to her feet. Three steps and she was in Jacob’s arms. He was safe and sound at home. She hugged him tightly, loving the way his arms closed around her. He stank of fire and smoke, but under the more acrid scents lurked her Jacob.

Closing her eyes, she savored the moment before it crashed under the anger that roared back to life. Pulling free, she punched her fist at his chest and glared at him.

“Ow. What was that for?” A bemused frown knitted his dusty brows together. He even rubbed a hand over his chest, but she rather doubted that it hurt. His square shoulders framed a strong, muscular build.

“That was for dropping me like a rock and then taking off. You helped Helcyon to put me down.” Her voice rose and fell over the syllables, trembling between anger and relief. God he looked so tired.

“Okay.” Jacob nodded.

She turned to go back to the chair when his hand connected with her ass. The slap burned through the layers of her clothing and stung. Her pussy and her temper clenched in passion and outrage. She swung back around to stare at him.

“That’s for showing up at a disaster site where a bomb went off.” His lips constricted in a tight smile and he walked past her toward the bar. She followed him with her gaze, tracking his progress and the way his legs dragged with every step.

“Are you going to smack my ass since I took her there?” Helcyon asked in a too-bland tone.

“Nope.” Jacob didn’t even pause, and Cassie never saw his arm move. One moment, Helcyon was on his feet and the next he hit the floor, sliding back across the tile. Blood trickled from his nose, and he laughed.

“I guess I deserved that.”

“Yes.” Jacob nodded grimly. “Yes you did.” At the bar, he flipped open a decanter of amber liquid and poured three fingers of it into a glass. “So what aren’t you letting him off the hook for?”

“For ganging up on me, draining me until I passed out, and for leaving me behind. You have no right—”

“Yeah, we do.” Jacob cut her off with wave of his hand and took a hard swallow of the liquid. “You were about to force Jude and Paul to do your bidding. You were sucking in energy like a vortex, princess, and you don’t get to just order people around like they are your servants.”

“I was not going to force them.” The denial fell from her lips automatically, but her stomach cramped. Had she really? She didn’t want them to go. They needed to stay. No matter what else went on, they needed each other. The world turned upside down and now, more than ever, they needed their closest allies.

“Cassandra.” Helcyon was on his feet and came toward her, but she evaded his arms. Touching them robbed her of thought, and most of the time she didn’t care, but in this situation, she needed the anger to create a boundary and she needed to understand what the hell happened.

“I can’t compel people. I’ve never done that.” She’d seen Helcyon exert his influence, felt the push of it, and she didn’t possess that talent.

Jacob’s bark of laughter halted her pacing before it could begin again. “Sweetheart, you do it for a living. You did it out there at the disaster site. You are very, very persuasive. Maybe you don’t directly compel, but people can’t help but listen to you—to want to listen to you. But earlier it scared the hell out of you that Paul and Jude were going to leave, so you planned to order them to stay and had
we
”
—
he gestured between he and Helcyon—“not stopped you, you would have. You would have forced them to stay, and no matter how trained they are, you are very, very powerful. It would have worked. They would have hated you and worse—”

“You would have hated yourself.” Helcyon finished the thought.

“I need to sit down.” She spun on one heel and padded back to her abandoned chair. Her legs trembled with every step, and she barely made it to the chair before collapsing.

“Princess, you’ve got more magic and abilities than we’ve been able to catalogue. Couple that with the Lord of Sword and Sun over here, and our triad just keeps getting stronger—strength isn’t bad, but how did Jude put it colloquially—man of steel, woman of Kleenex.”

Cassie stared at Jacob.
Did he just make a Superman reference?

“I do not think Cassandra is that delicate, Jacob.” Bless Hels, he sounded almost chiding, and he looked at Jacob with an utterly peculiar expression.

“It’s a pop culture reference, old man. Join the times.” He didn’t quite manage to sound smug enough to cover his own discomfort with the reference Cassie would bet money he didn’t quite understand. “It just means we have no idea just how strong we’re going to get or what new talents will assert themselves. You, princess, were in danger of causing irreparable harm. We stopped you from doing that. I’m sorry you didn’t like it, but you can get over being pissed at us a hell of a lot easier than destroying someone’s free will.”

He punctured her temper with one well-placed verbal assault, and Cassie sighed. “Fine. Of course, that doesn’t cover the rest of it. I still have a job to do and—”

“Our point was you didn’t need to go to a disaster zone. It had just been bombed. There were dead and wounded and could have been more casualties.” Helcyon scowled at her. “And you’re pregnant, which increases the danger to you, personally.”

“I was needed there. Jacob was there. You were there, and the others, too. I wasn’t going to charge into it guns blazing. I went to handle the media fallout. Which, I might remind you, I did.”

The men glanced at each other, brows raised, and Helcyon shrugged. “She was never more than a foot away from me, but she still managed to meet Heinrich Kramer.”

Cassie groaned as Jacob choked on his drink.

This was about to get ugly.

“Way to throw me under the bus, Hels.” Cassandra’s exasperation stung as did her temper. She wasn’t typically this unruly.

“I did not throw you under a bus. I stated a fact. You met a war criminal. That particular Wizard used our magic against us. He wrote the spells to bind Fae women. He led the charge to slaughter them. Had he been successful, he would have exterminated us all.” Frustration fisted in his gut. He hadn’t recognized the Wizard. Five hundred years since he’d last even seen a glimpse of the man didn’t matter. He hadn’t recognized him, and the man had stood within a hand’s breadth of the most precious thing in Helcyon’s world.

He would never forgive himself if anything happened to her.

Never.

“Ease up, Helcyon.” Jacob’s hand landed on his shoulder and urged him to back up. He’d stalked forward and loomed over Cassandra. She’d gone a shade paler beneath her tanned skin, and her gold eyes widened, revealing every gorgeous drop of the decadent color.

“Oh crap.” Apparently Jacob saw the same thing he did. Helcyon closed his eyes and scrubbed a palm over his face.

“What?” Cassandra leaned forward, worry and tension sharpening the syllable higher.

“You’re not wearing your contacts, Cassie.” Jacob tossed back the rest of his drink. “Well, fuck it, that cat’s out of the bag. How long before word gets back to her bitchiness?”