Page 13 of Darkness Rising
Chapter Eight
The Warlock
Steam wafts from petite tea cups and the Warlock, Berlin, passes them out one by one. I’m seated on the world’s tiniest fucking loveseat, my knee knocking against Cameron’s every now and then.
It’s a weird home. It reminds me of my great aunt’s house. The crazy aunt my father doesn’t like people to know about. Pale shades of pink and blue accent the wallpaper. Fake flowers bush out from the corners of the room while at least a dozen cats drift from space to space.
One leaps from the floor to the loveseat. It’s soft fur brushes against my arm and I stiffen from the animal’s abrupt contact.
“Pay no attention to Colonel Cumberbatch. They’re very harmless creatures.” Berlin’s eyes are like burning embers and he himself has a catlike demeanor that I can’t seem to look away from. He drapes himself into the nearest tiny chair, his legs crossing as he leans forward. “What can I do for the legendary Wild Hunt?”
I keep my lips sealed, taking in the details of the room and the odd man before me. It’s something I started doing when my father sent me away. It’s easier to just listen; to collect the details of life for a later time.
“This,” Nollix pauses as his eyes shift to Cameron. The three Huntsmen refused the small chairs Berlin offered them.
The impolite bastards.
They stand with intimidating posture near the door. Shining onyx-colored swords hang from their belts and I know they wouldn’t hesitate to use the magically infused weapons.
“This Warlock accidentally got his soul tied to our friend here.” Nollix stares hard at the side of Cameron’s face.
His friend.We’re friends in the sense that I don’t have a choice in the matter. Friends who push each other into danger just to pass the time.
The best of friends.
“Sorry to seem repetitive, but what can I do about it?” Berlin tips his head up to look at Nollix.
A long sigh parts Nollix’s lips.
“I want you to sever the bond.” An irritated tone clings to his words.
Cameron shifts against my side. I’m just starting to realize how quiet he’s been; for the entire day actually.
Suspiciously quiet.
Berlin’s warm gaze pulls slowly toward Cameron, his eyes flickering between the two of us.
“I—I can’t.”
A light clattering sound accompanies his tea cup as he sets it carefully upon its saucer on the table between us.
“And why the fuck not?” Jeriko takes a single step closer to the three of us.
Berlin’s curious attention drifts toward the assertive Fae. He studies the three men, letting the seconds tick.
His palm pushes down the length of his pastel tie. He smooths the fabric of his crisp white shirt.
“Because a Warlock cannot alter the magic of another Warlock.”
Jeriko’s jaw tics severely and I stand at the feel of his rising anger. It’s a feeling that shifts through all of us. We’re in tune with one another. A sparking feeling floods my senses and I know he’s about to do something stupid.
“What does that mean?” I cross the room. The white carpet pads my steps until I’m standing between the three men and Berlin.
“He means,” Cameron studies the depth of the dark tea he holds in his big hands, “his magic can’t change my magic.”
“What magic?” My eyes narrow on the thieving Warlock.
He looks like a giant on the ridiculous, child-sized furniture. He clears his throat, still not meeting my eyes. The power within me begins to pick up speed, swirling around my veins with vengeance.
