Assassin's Kiss (32 page)

Gods only knew how long he would keep this up. He shoved his hips into her, his erection pushing against her abdomen. She rested her hands at his elbows, ready to come up with some excuse to stop him—

A swift knock sounded at the door and then it swung open. “Oh my gosh! Um…” Zeebi’s surprised exclamation halted Damien’s marauding of her mouth.

Tessa took a step back, fighting the urge to wipe her face on her sleeve.

Damien grinned at her, then arched a brow at Zeebi, who held a large zipped-up garment bag over her arm. “Shitty timing as usual, Zee. But no matter. I have things to do. Show my fiancé around the place, will you? And fill her in on the details of tomorrow.” He made a show of adjusting the waistband of his pants and winked at Tessa.

Zeebi’s eyes tracked Damien’s hands and fixated on the bulge behind his fly. She looked at Damien with a strange look…one Tessa would almost describe as hurt. But that made no sense. Until she turned cold eyes on Tessa.

What the heck? Did Zeebi have feelings for Damien? Oh no. This was about to get ugly in one second. “Zeebi?”

“I have your wedding dress.” Zeebi’s voice was hard and cold as she held up the bag.

“Dress?” Tessa looked between the two of them. “Shouldn’t I get to pick it?”

“No, darling. I took the liberty. You’ll look stunning,” Damien said. “Unzip it, Zee. Let her get a peek.”

Zeebi yanked the zipper down, and one black…
feather?
…drifted out.

Tessa’s jaw dropped. “What is that?” All she saw was black on black buried in the depths of the bag.

Zeebi bustled into the room and over to the armoire. Opening one door, she slammed the hanger on it with an irritated huff, then pushed the bag off the hangar.

“Um…” Tessa trailed off. Words wouldn’t click into sentences in her mind as she stared at the monstrosity of black satin before her.

The dress was strapless, with a dip at the center bust and diagonal swaths of black cinching the bodice and waist. Jet black beadwork and lace covered it, with little circlets of beading placed to hang at her biceps. The skirt held cascading horizontal rows of draped and ruched fabric. Satin and organza, each layer fuller than the one above it…and at the hem, a row of black feathers.

“I’m not wearing that.” Tessa folded her arms.

“Yes, you are,” Damien said. “You either marry me in that, or we do the ceremony completely naked.”

Tessa whirled, wide eyed.
“What?”

“It would make things quicker, that way,” he mused. “If I had to look at your naked skin while you pledge yourself to me, I know I’d skip the celebratory meal and haul you immediately to bed.”

Zeebi made a disgusted noise and rolled her eyes.

Tessa stared. She knew Damien was a narcissist and didn’t have a kind bone in his body. But he spoke about acts that would embarrass her, humiliate her, as if they were nothing. As casually as if he were trying to decide what to have for dinner. Maybe to him, it wasn’t possible for the feelings of others to register on his radar.

This level of emotional manipulation was deeply gnarled and twisted. On some level, he had to be aware of how far his people would be pushed. Of what made them bend or break. And she hadn’t even seen the full range of his power yet. For the first time, a frisson of hopelessness crawled up her spine. Had she gotten into more than she could handle?

But she shut it down.
You’re not helpless.
She had power of her own, and evil people had weaknesses. Sometimes it just took time to discover them, but they always slipped up eventually.

“I’ll wear it,” she said quietly, deciding to let him win this particular battle.

“Good.” He turned to the door. “Don’t forget her tour, Zeebi.” He pulled the door closed behind him.

The thud of the door hadn’t even stopped reverberating when Zeebi glared at her. “You go from being with Scorpio to being with Damien? Just like that?” She snapped her fingers.

“What? No!” Tessa popped her hands on her hips. “I can’t go
from someone
I was never with. And why do you care? You know I have to marry him. You know what’s going to happen.”

“Gods I wish I didn’t,” Zeebi muttered.

“What is going on with you?” Tessa’s couldn’t keep her voice calm. Zeebi was acting like a stranger. Tessa wanted to scream in frustration and shake some sense into her friend. The old Zeebi had to be in there, somewhere…right?

“Nothing. I’m part of this coven now too, just like you.”

I am not part of this coven and never will be.
Tessa rubbed her eyes. She needed a plan. Needed some shred of hope to cling to, or she’d go crazy here. “So, what else do I need to know about tomorrow?”

“I’ll help you get ready. The ceremony will be in the morning. It’ll be in the large hall downstairs. Do you remember it from when we were little?”

“I’m guessing we’re in the stone house that used to be Pennar’s?”

“Yeah.” Zeebi scowled. “I may as well just show you. Let’s go get this tour crap over with.”

She stomped toward the door and opened it. Tessa wondered about the guards Damien had alluded to, but her question was answered when she saw the two mages waiting outside the door. Armed with blades and wearing black, they looked about as friendly as a pair of hellhounds.

“We are to escort you around the area,” one said, his voice dry and emotionless.

“Great,” Zeebi grumbled. “Try to keep up.” She stalked ahead of Tessa, down the crimson-painted corridor. Fire bulbs hovered where the walls met the ceiling, casting a glow that would have seemed warm anywhere else.

The guards followed like shadows, silent but projecting menace. Tessa gritted her teeth, knowing she only had to appear to be docile and obedient, and she’d be fine.

This particular hallway held a dozen doors. But Zeebi’s pace didn’t allow her to inspect the walls, looking for telltale seams that might indicate any secret panels.

They reached a large open area where the end of their hall met up with another. A delicately carved wooden railing provided a barrier across open space, which overlooked a massive foyer. One staircase at the side led down in a sweeping curve, and this was where Zeebi headed.

“Wait, what were all the rooms back there?” Tessa asked.

“Just rooms for sleeping. Guests, you. Damien’s room is in that other hallway.” Zeebi waved a hand dismissively.

“Guests?” Tessa frowned. “Who stays here?”

Zeebi only shrugged. “Guess you’ll find out.” Reaching the bottom step, she charged through the foyer and stalked across gray flagstones. “Main entrance.” She flung a hand toward the massive wooden door, which was solid oak with a narrow strip of mullioned glass on either side. She walked to a wide arched doorway off the foyer and stepped in.

Tessa followed, finding herself in a large rectangular room. It seemed to stretch almost to the back of the home. A fireplace occupied part of one wall. Chairs had been set up in neat rows, all facing one end of the room, with a central aisle in between. A sick feeling bloomed in her stomach.

“This is the gathering room,” Zeebi said flatly. “This is where the ceremony will be held.”

The ceremony.
Tessa swallowed the bile rising in her throat as reality settled over her shoulders like a wet wool cloak. This room, tomorrow. She took a deep breath in an effort to force down her panic.

An image of Scorpio popped into her mind from when he’d first been watching over her at the ore field. Every muscle tensed and honed, muscles that she now knew were as bitable as they were strong. He believed in her. And even though she’d let him down, the least she could do was to make an effort while she was here, to improve her situation. To improve her coven’s. To fight.

Zeebi had gone too fast for her to even sneak a peek at anything so far, but maybe here, she’d have more leeway. Tessa walked to the center aisle and forced her feet to move to the end, where two black candles stood in seven foot tall holders. She tried not to think about the fact that she’d be tracing these steps tomorrow.

Instead, she focused on the walls near where she and Damien would stand. This room was so big, it had to hold a passage. And in case of threat, Damien would want escapes to be as accessible as possible. She stopped near one candle holder and touched its intricate silver etchings, pretending to be interested but looking beyond it to where white wainscoting met chocolate brown painted walls. Somewhere along the dark wood chair rail, there had to be—

“That candle cannot be that interesting,” Zeebi commented dryly.

Tessa blinked away her sneaky thoughts in frustration. “Why all these chairs? Who’s coming?”

“As many of the coven as can fit. They all want to see their new mistress,” Zeebi hissed. “Let’s keep moving. Seriously, this is just a big ugly room. Nothing to see here.” She stalked out, signaling for Tessa to follow.

Zeebi whisked them through the rest of the first floor, pointing out a dining room, kitchen, and several small rooms for meetings or socializing. Unfortunately, she maintained her hurried pace, and all Tessa spotted were a few packed bookshelves and gaudy lighting fixtures.

“Well, that’s the tour.” Zeebi rested her hands on her hips as they completed a loop and re-entered the foyer.

“No way. There has to be more,” Tessa said. “What about the basement?”

“That? Damien will have to show you, if he feels like it,” Zeebi sniffed. “I’m not supposed to.”

“Why not?” Tessa asked.

Zeebi shrugged. “His rules.”

Tessa frowned. “I’d like to stay down here and look through the books in these rooms.” She gestured to the many doorways they had passed.

“The master says you must stay in your room until the wedding ceremony,” one of the guards said.

“What? Why?” Tessa turned, indignant. “This is going to be my home as well as his.”

The guards remained impassive. “Those are our orders.”

“This is ridiculous!” She turned to Zeebi. “Why can’t we go outside for a walk? It’s been years since I was by these buildings and paths. Come on, you and me.”

Zeebi gave an irritated sigh. “After the ceremony.”

Tessa clenched her fists. She could try to run for it, but she had a feeling the guards not only outweighed her, but were versed in dark magic that could stop her. And if her own bedroom door couldn’t be opened, she doubted the darn front door could. “Fine.” She’d find a way out. One day, even if it took months. And even if she had to act like she adored everything about Damien. One day, he was bound to make a mistake.

C
HAPTER
30

M
ORNING DAWNED CLOUDY AND MIST-FILLED
over Bronwy. The air around the coven was a mix of attitudes. For the Watchers, this was a mission like the many they carried out on a regular basis. But for the coven members, the upcoming events were tinged with both apprehension and anger.

Scorpio’s need to get to Tessa warred with Whysper’s warning to not charge in like a berserker. She’d seen enough mated pairs—she had to guess what he was dealing with. He’d take her words to heart, at least for now. But if he saw Tessa in trouble, all bets were off.

Booted feet stomped the ground as Brenin approached. All smirking gone, he rested his hands on his hips and gave Scorpio a chin lift. “We’ll get your witch back.”

“I know.” Scorpio sheathed the last of several daggers, loaned from both his fellow Watchers and the witches. He scowled at the sky as a swath of navy blue peeled back to reveal a pearl gray horizon. “I’m ready.”

Melixa joined them, dressed in black fatigues and a fitted T-shirt. “So are we.” Steely confidence radiated from her eyes. “Time to kick some dark magic ass.”

Just then Hallon gave a sharp whistle. Everyone who was to play a role in the rescue stood up and gathered around him.

Scorpio flexed his fists. “Go time.”

Fifteen minutes later, the group was out of Bronwy boundaries and moving west toward Vespera. Fourteen Watchers and fourteen Bronwy guards, plus Whysper, Melixa, and Hallon.

The stone house was their target. All of Vespera’s buildings were surrounded by forest, with two main roads allowing travel to their villages. The stone house sat at the back of the territory, nestled against a particularly thick part of the trees. Scorpio’s group would approach it from the trees and enter any way they could, while Whysper’s group would stop to access an underground tunnel that would take them to the sinister grouping of lines.

It made sense on paper. But witches, and dark magic in particular, were notoriously unpredictable.

They covered the several-mile journey quickly, going on foot for the purpose of not drawing attention with portal magic. As they neared Vespera the trees grew closer together, and thick thorny bushes blocked the obvious trails. Soon there were no paths, just dark choking vegetation. The air hung still and silent. Far off, a crow cawed.

The group stopped, all senses on alert. The Lash demons had the advantage of being able to tell if the enemy was close. Hallon shot Scorpio a questioning glance.

Scorpio shook his head, detecting only the expected flora and fauna scents. “Nothing yet,” he said.

They continued, stopping periodically to check. At the third stop, Scorpio and Brenin both scowled. It wasn’t a scent, but a different indicator. They both looked to Whysper.

“Yes, boys.” She nodded, having picked up on the same sign. “We have reached their outermost wards. We need to be prepared for anything from here on out—”

A hiss and crashing rustled the foliage, and a line of ten Vespera guards charged out from the woods. The Lash demons responded by hurling demon fire, which the mages repelled just like they had back at the rowan tree.

A sudden crack echoed off the trees, and a flash like lighting burst and flared along the line of Vespera guards. And as Scorpio looked on, each guard shimmered…and a perfect double of each one emerged.

“What the hell?” Scorpio flung fire at one, just to see if in fact it was corporeal.

It responded by raising a hand and halting the flames, just like the others had.

Fuck. Now they faced twenty guards, half conjured from who-knew-where. Scorpio wasn’t about to overthink it. Dark magic was just too fucked up.