The League of Illusion: Destiny (7 page)

Mortified, Drea chased after the melons. She was able to snatch one up but the other continued to roll until it stopped right at Sebastian’s boot toe. He bent over and picked it up.

“I believe this belongs to you.”

Her cheeks were aflame and her throat went dry. She could barely get a word out. He handed it to her with a smile that made her knees weak and her belly do interesting flip flops.

“Thank you,” she managed to squeak.

“Do you like magic?” he asked unexpectedly.

“I don’t know,” she said. “I’ve never seen any.”

Slowly he reached for her face. She thought he was going to brush a finger against her cheek. Instead he tucked one stray curl behind her ear, and when he lowered his hand there was a large silver medallion in it. The medallion had a picture of two crossed swords and was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. Apart from him, of course.

“Treasure can be found in the most interesting places.” He’d handed it to her.

She’d smiled and clutched the medallion tight.

“
I
will come for you.
”

Frowning, Drea looked around. Where had that voice come from? This was not part of her memory.

Sebastian grabbed her hand, his face a stern mask, blood dripping down his forehead. “
Hold it tight and I will find you.
”

She pulled away in a panic. This wasn’t how the day had gone. This wasn’t what had happened.

“
Don’t let it go.
It’s a beacon.
I’m coming
,
Drea.
I’m coming!
”

Drea startled awake. She was still on horseback, her head resting on the back of the elf. She sat up and looked around. They were still in the woods, but in a section she didn’t recognize. It was denser, greener. And, she had to admit, creepier.

Without drawing notice to herself, she drew a finger down the chain she wore around her neck and slowly pulled out the medallion hidden in the bodice of her dress. Sebastian had given it to her. She’d been wearing it around her neck since that day.

She clutched it in her hand and thought about him. She closed her eyes and pictured his face in her mind. He had that sad but determined look in his eyes, and she knew he’d come for her no matter what.

Chapter Thirteen

True to her word, Avaira showed Darin how to construct a portal. It used a darker magic than he had ever dreamed of. Magic that he coveted with all his heart.

They required room to work and privacy, so Darin paid off the cardinal who was in the service of the Hawthorne family, and they used a portion of St. Paul’s Cathedral. It was a place of great power. Many ley lines of energy converged in that one spot. It was the reason the Catholics built the church there in the first place. Their worshippers would be loath to know that old world pagan mysticism chose their place of worship.

Once inside the small oval chapel of St. Michael and St. George, Avaira shut and sealed the heavy gold inlaid doors. Thick candles were already lit along the altar and at the four corners, casting a golden glow around the room.

Avaira was wearing long dark robes and a circle of onyx. She looked like a dark and terrible goddess, the candlelight making her even more enchanting, and his cock tightened at the sight of her. If they hadn’t had pressing matters to attend to, he would’ve bent her over the altar and buggered her rotten.

As it was, they were on a tight schedule. The solstice was only five days away, and he needed to ensure that no Davenport returned to London ever again.

Avaira handed him a piece of charcoal. “Draw a circle with a triangle inside on the floor, as large as you can make it.”

Darin glared at her for a moment. He was unaccustomed to being told what to do. Only his father had that kind of power over him.

The elf glared back, unafraid of him. “If you want this to work, you have to be willing to do the things that need to be done. Did I pick the wrong sorcerer to share this powerful magic with?”

He fiddled with the charcoal, his fingers quickly turning black. “No, you chose wisely.”

“Then show me.” She gestured to the black and white marble-tiled floor.

Despite the violent urge to hurt her that ran through his body like wildfire, Darin pushed aside two benches, then dropped to the floor on his hands and knees. He drew the circle carefully, then added the triangle. The second the last point of the triangle met with the circle, a surge of power swept the room. He could feel it brushing against his skin. The little hairs on his arms and on the back of his neck grew to attention. The sensation made him hard.

Avaira took a stick of calcite and inscribed symbols in all three semi-circles made by the intersecting triangle and circle. The moment she was done, a wave of heat rushed through the room. It was like being blasted by a spontaneous fire. He closed his eyes and soaked it up.

“Now we need the life force of a sacred creature to open the veil between worlds.”

She went to her large leather satchel and came away with a white cat, its legs tied together and its jaw bound shut. At first he thought it was already dead, but he could see its gray eyes looking at him, fear making its pupils large. His gut churned, and for the first time in a long while he felt something other than apathy for another being. It surprised him.

“What are you going to do with it?” he asked, although he suspected he already knew.

“Use its blood to open the portal. Cats, much like elves, are powerful creatures. They straddle veils like walking on a tightrope.” She ran a hand over its back. “What’s the matter? You look pale.”

Darin couldn’t tell her he didn’t like killing animals. As a child he had a pet cat. He’d found it in the streets and taken it home. Of course his father hadn’t known. He hadn’t noticed Darin much anyway. But the one day his father did visit his private rooms, he found the cat and forced Darin to drown it. With tears streaming down his cheeks he’d done it. He still had a scar on his forearm where the cat’s back claws had shredded his flesh in defense.

He cleared his throat. “It’s just so messy. Isn’t there a more civilized way to open the portal?”

“This is wild magic. It’s messy and unpredictable and uncomfortable.” She stroked a finger down his cheek. “We can stop if you want. Try and find a natural portal if you prefer.”

Darin did want to stop, which surprised him to no end. Why his boyhood fears and regrets were coming into play now, he’d never understand. He was not weak-stomached. He’d done things most men would weep at. He’d done them gladly. But right at this moment he had a hard lump in the pit of his stomach, as if something was extremely wrong. The magic swirling around them, caressing him, felt wrong. Yet he couldn’t deny the erection between his legs.

“I don’t want to stop. The Davenports need to pay.”

“And pay they will.” She handed him a knife made of silver and inlaid with onyx. It glinted menacingly in the flickering candlelight.

Darin took it, gripping the hilt tight in his right hand. He looked into the cat’s eyes and did what he had to do, knowing he was beyond any type of forgiveness for the things he’d done.

Chapter Fourteen

She was there again in the market—the girl with the fiery cascade of curls and pretty green eyes. Drea Blairwood, he was told, was her name. It was difficult not to notice her. Like a magnet, his gaze automatically tracked from across the village square. Of course, he had to make sure she didn’t notice him noticing her. He was not a good man for her, but still the heart wanted what it couldn’t have.

He’d first seen her only days after arriving in the village to find work. She’d come out of one of the houses, her plaited hair swinging. A mangy dog ran up to her, barking, and she crouched to pet it, scratching it behind the ears and laughing. She’d only been seventeen then, but he couldn’t deny she was the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen. She had a light inside her that he’d been drawn to. And ever since that day, he’d been watching her from afar. Always careful not to make himself known. It wouldn’t do for her to truly know him.

As he talked with Claude, Sebastian watched her out of the corner of his eye. She was milling about near the fruit stands, taking an interest in the melons. Then her gaze lifted to his and she dropped the melon she’d been holding. It bounced on the others and sent them all to the ground.

He smiled as she scrambled after them. One rolled right to him, as if he’d planned it all along. He hadn’t of course. He picked up the fruit and handed it to her.

She blushed a little and it made his heart skip a beat. She was so young and innocent but he sensed a strength inside her that resonated beyond her years. She could weather a storm to be sure.

“Do you like magic?” he asked, unsure why he did so. Magic, as he knew it, didn’t exist in this world.

“I don’t know. I’ve never seen any.”

He slowly reached for her. He wanted desperately to trace the freckles over her sharp cheekbones but instead he drew one of her stray curls behind her ear. As he did, he conjured his family’s silver medallion between his fingers. He wanted her to have it. It was a token passed from Davenport man to the woman he wanted to pursue. It had strong magic inside it, a way for the giver to always know where the receiver was. Like a beacon, it sent out a signal a sorcerer could track. As long as she carried it with her, Sebastian could always find her.

“Treasure can be found in the most interesting places,” he said as he handed it to her.

The second she touched it, she disappeared. Vanished into thin air. Sebastian whirled around and saw he was completely alone in the village square.

“Drea!” he shouted. “Where are you?”

There was no answer, not even a bird call or a dog bark. It was as if he was the only thing that existed.

“
I’ll find you!
”

Sebastian heard his voice screaming in his head. Images of Drea swirled around with it. Then a clear distant voice sounded in his head. A familiar one. One he hadn’t heard in years. There came a light tapping on his cheek.

He struggled out of the darkness. He wanted to come to the surface. He knew it was important that he do so as quickly as possible. But still the cobwebs of the pitch clung to him, holding him prisoner.

Then came the biting cold of something liquid. That jump-started his heart. It was just the jolt he needed to break free.

He opened his eyes, blinking against the glare of sunlight.

“Hello, brother.”

He blinked again, trying to gain his bearings. But it was the face staring down at him that gave him the clarity he needed. “Rhys?”

His brother smiled, tears forming in the gray depths of his eyes. “Yes.”

Sebastian looked around and spied more familiar faces looking down at him. “Jovan?”

His youngest brother grabbed his hand. “Hey, brother. It’s about time we found you.”

A woman with golden skin and white hair beamed at him. It was like looking into another sun.

“Skylar.”

The Druid stroked his face. “You had us worried when you wouldn’t wake up right away.”

Then his gaze settled on the other woman hovering near Rhys. He recognized her face but didn’t know quite from where.

She smiled at him. “It’s good to see you again, Mr. Davenport.”

“Miss Stratton?” When he first found out about portals, his journey had taken him to a psychic in a small village just outside of Stonehenge. Miss Stratton and her mother had helped him open the portal those five years ago. “But how? Is your mother here as well?” He glanced around, hoping to see the eccentric Mrs. Stratton.

She shook her head. “She’s passed on.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“Thank you, but Rhys tells me I will see her again soon.” She took Rhys’s hand in hers and he saw a light come on inside his usually dour brother.

“How did you find me?”

Rhys glanced at Jovan, who looked at Skylar. She smiled at Miss Stratton. “It’s a long story,” Rhys said.

Sebastian sat up and saw that he was outside the smithy in a wagon full of hay. Then he remembered the prior events.

“Drea? Did you find her?” He moved around in the hay, trying to get out of the wagon and on his feet. The pain in his head exploded and he nearly passed out.

Skylar pressed him back down. “Take it easy. You have a nasty cut on the back of your head. Looks like you were hit twice.”

“Who is Drea?” Rhys asked.

Everything was spinning. Bile rose in Sebastian’s throat. He lay back down and tried to breathe deeply. “She hit me over the head.”

“A woman did this to you?” Jovan asked.

Skylar smacked him in the arm. “Don’t sound so surprised, my darling. I could easily brain you with my parasol.”

“True.” He pecked her on the cheek.

“No,” Sebastian said, pushing at the hands trying to keep him on his back. “She hit me the first time. Elves did this. Elves killed poor Mr. Blairwood. Set his house on fire.”

“Elves?” Rhys’s eyes widened. “What in bloody hell are elves doing here?”

“Was it Councilman Amathon?” Skylar asked.

Sebastian frowned. “No, an elf named Acari. Why would you ask about Amathon?”

“He and his small army tried to stop us from using the portal in France,” Rhys said. “Elves and Darin Hawthorne.”

“Hawthorne?” Sebastian could barely remember what the sorcerer looked like, although he did remember his impetuousness and his cruel streak. “Why?”

“He wants the head seat on the League of Illusion, of course. Your seat,” Jovan said.

Sebastian rubbed at his temples, trying to dispel the constant throb. “You mean Father’s seat.”

Jovan glanced at Rhys. “No, brother, I meant yours.”

He looked at his brothers, saw the twin pain in their eyes. “Father’s dead?”

“Not yet,” Rhys said, “but the cancer is killing him and, as tradition states, you are his successor.”

“There’s only five more days until the solstice,” Jovan said. “We have to get you back before then, or the seat will go to Hawthorne. Then the world will be in some real trouble.”

Sebastian lay on his back, staring up at the gorgeous blue sky, and tried to digest everything he’d just heard. His father was dying. He shouldn’t have been too surprised. He’d been gone five years. That was a lot of time for things to happen and change. Obvious by the fact that both his young brothers were involved in relationships. Something he never thought he’d see. But the thought of the formidable Blake Davenport dying of anything shook him to his core.

And now he was meant to rule.

The seat at the head of the League of Illusion had been in the Davenport family for centuries. Sebastian had been taught at a young age about the league and how it protected those in the magical community and kept them secret from regular society, protecting society as it were. He’d always known the responsibility would lie with him one day. He’d just hoped that day would never come or at least not until he was a much older man with a wife and family of his own.

Being at the head of the league was something he’d never wanted. He’d even told his father that shortly before disappearing into a portal while trying to right his huge wrong. For the first time in five years, he wondered if he’d vanished on purpose. Maybe he’d known exactly what he was doing. He’d heard all the warnings, studied all the lore, knew all the risks, and had done it anyway, knowing he had an extremely small chance of succeeding and returning home.

Sebastian sat up slowly this time and shuffled to the end of the wagon. He slid off to his feet. He wobbled once, Skylar was there to hold him, and then stood steady. His head still throbbed but he gritted his teeth and tried to ignore it.

Rhys gripped his shoulders and pulled him into a hug, which he found surprising as his brother was not usually one for displays of affection.

“It’s good to see you again.”

Sebastian patted his back. “You too.” He pulled back, glanced at Miss Stratton then back to Rhys. “You look happy.”

Rhys just smiled, almost seeming embarrassed by his newfound happiness.

Now it was Jovan’s turn to embrace him. His youngest brother was not as gentle and crushed him in his arms. “I looked for you for over a year. We all thought you were dead.”

“Not so, obviously.” He smiled at Skylar. “Back with the Davenports, I see.”

She chuckled. “You’re a hard lot to get rid of.”

“It’s wonderful to see all of you. It truly is. But now we need to get in gear and go find Drea.”

“What we need to do is to find another portal and get home.” Rhys frowned. “Did you not hear us when we said we only have five days?”

“I heard you.” Sebastian looked around for horses they could take. “But I’m not going anywhere until I know she’s safe.”

“Who is this woman that you would risk the whole world for?” Rhys asked.

“You’ll find out when we find her. It’s my fault the elves have her. I won’t abandon her to her fate.”

The metalsmith ambled out of the smithy. “You’re awake.”

“Claude? What the hell happened here?”

He scratched at his haggard face. “I didn’t see it at first, but came after I heard Blairwood shouting. I ran out to see him arguing with the tall man with pointy ears. He tried to fight them, but was shot in the heart with an arrow. They pushed him back into the house and started the fire. They rode through town and started other fires.” He shook his head. “I didn’t know what to do.”

Sebastian put his hand on Claude’s shoulder. “There was nothing you could’ve done. They would have killed you too.”

“What did they want?” Claude asked.

“Drea. They need her to find the morrigan.” He slammed a fist against his leg. “Why did I let her get involved?”

“You didn’t
let
her do anything.”

Sebastian swung around to see Drea’s aunt riding in on her old horse. “She’s as bullheaded as they come.”

“I’m so sorry for your loss. Mr. Blairwood was a good man.”

She nodded. “He was. Although we never saw eye to eye, he was still a good father to that girl.”

“I’m going to find her and bring her home.”

She wiped at her eyes. “You better. She’s needed here. Especially now.”

“How can I help?” Claude asked.

“Do you have anything we can use against the morrigan?”

Claude nodded. “I might. I’ll take you to my special workshop.”

Rhys glanced at Sebastian. “Do you have any idea in what direction the elves would’ve taken her?”

“No, but help me build a fire and I’ll find out.”