Page 75 of Taken By the Blood God

“How did you release the god?” he asked. “And why?”

I ignored his first question, focusing instead on the second part.

“Because what you were doing was wrong and dangerous. You would have gotten yourselves killed.” I paused as I reconsidered my words. “Actually, most of your friends already got themselves killed, so…”

He cocked his head to the side, staring down at me with blank eyes, the black irises empty of all emotion. “What do you care?”

The dark magic had eaten away his humanity. He still looked like a man, but there was nothing inside him but rot. I didn’t need access to my magic to know that.

“I don’t give a damn about you and your minions,” I spat back. “But I do care about the innocent people you might hurt.”

He shrugged. “That’s your problem.” His gaze sharpened. “How did you do it?”

“What’s your plan here?” I asked, trying to change the subject.

The warlock squatted, lowering his head toward me. “First, you’re going to tell me how you freed the god. Then, you’re going to call him here, along with the other one, so that my brothers and I can finish what we started. If you don’t fight, we might just let you live.”

It took everything I had not to roll my eyes at him. By the goddess, no wonder he and his coven needed Davian’s power. If they were all as stupid as their leader, they had no hope of being anything more than weak and useless.

I also knew he was full of shit. If they succeeded in their asinine plan they would kill me immediately.

A hand fisted in my hair, yanking it hard. Tears sprang into my eyes as I glared up at the warlock holding onto me.

“How did you free him?” he asked. “You will tell me, or I’ll be forced to get creative.”

His gaze wandered down my body splayed in a spread-eagle position. I understood exactly what he was hinting at. I heard shifting feet nearby and glanced around to see five or six other warlocks hovering, their eyes glued to my form staked out on the ground.

“I’m a Conduit,” I answered. “That’s how I did it. It wasn’t a spell. Or a curse. My power was the only key to his prison. That’s why the other god brought me and forced me to free him.”

“Conduits are a myth,” the warlock replied, releasing my hair and setting back on his heels.

“If you say so,” I said, trying for nonchalance.

A shiver wracked my body. They’d stripped the heavy robe from me before they staked me out, leaving me only in the thin silk nightgown. While it wasn’t freezing this morning, it was still cool this early in the day. And there were parts of me on display that I didn’t want them looking at. Nausea twisted in my belly, and I suppressed a shudder.

I had to put the thought out of my mind and focus on getting out of this mess in one piece. Just because these warlocks were stupid didn’t mean they weren’t dangerous. Hell, stupidity was practically synonymous with dangerous when it came to magic.

The warlock studied me closely. “You’re telling me the truth, aren’t you?”

“I am.”

He rose to his feet. “I see.”

I suppressed another shiver, this one from fear. I knew by the way he was looking at me that he planned to drain me the same way they intended to drain Davian and Talant.

“Call the gods,” he demanded.

“I can’t.”

He arched a brow at me. “Why not?”

I shook my wrists. “Because you’ve trussed me up with shackles that block my magic.” I couldn’t keep the heavy dose of sarcasm out of my voice.

“So, use your voice.”

“I doubt they’ll be able to hear me this far from the house. They may be gods, but their hearing isn’t as good as a shifter’s.” It was a lie, and not even a good one. Talant might be able to hear me if they were close, but I wanted out of these damn shackles.

Again, the warlock demonstrated his idiocy. “Fine,” he said.

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