Page 110 of Worse Fates
An anger rises in Jace's cheek, melting away any trace of guilt or regret.
Footsteps tap against the floor, pulling Jace’s attention away and his shoulders instantly relax when a woman with brown hair, a shock of white running through, approaches.
“Jace.” Her voice is raspy, infused with confidence and demanding of respect. “Mickey told me you finally had your precious Golden, why the fighting?”
“Emma.” Jace looks down at her with a mix of awe and gratitude, a little boy staring up at his mother. “He’s being…difficult.” Then his hand rests on the gross spellbook strapped at his side, visibly taking comfort.
“He did destroy our way of finding new mages, so I suspected he might,” she smiles sickly sweet. “But don’t worry, when you're on the blood mage throne he’ll behave himself, and willingly stand by your side.”
“I really fucking doubt that,” I snort.
“A throne?” Kai raises a mocking eyebrow. “Who the hell is putting this psycho on a throne?”
Jace glares, a sheen of delusion coating his deep brown eyes. “Emma told me who I really am, who I was always meant to be.”
“So not an orphan without a pot to piss in?” I ask sarcastically.
“Emma was on a mission to find me!” Jace snaps. “And when she did I learnt who my real family is. Who my real father was and how I was the rightful heir to a powerful blood mage family.”
Emma nods along to Jace’s ramblings.
“But like everything else he was taken from me, too!” Jace fist hits the bar so hard, blood drips from his open knuckles. “He was murdered by cowards wanting to take his place.”
Emma carefully takes Jace’s fist and slips a handkerchief from her pocket to pat his knuckles, cooing ridiculously, like he’s a baby bird fallen from his nest.
Jace halts his raving to offer Emma a look of adoring affection. “Thank you.” Then he returns his glare to me. “When my father died he passed his spellbook to his sister—to Emma—and she promised to give it to his rightful heir.”
My arms cross. “So some weirdo waltzes in, tells you you’re some long-lost prince, and you just eat it up? You need your bloody head checked.”
Jace’s sneer is molten. “She didn’t just tell me—she proved it!”
With a flick of his hand, his spellbook unclasps itself, rising to hover in front of him.
“Come here!” Jace barks at a young boy who yelps like a kicked puppy, then scurries over. “Touch my book,” Jace orders.
The boy hesitates, expression pained, but slowly he does as Jace ordered and brushes his fingers across the horrible dull-grey leather of the spellbook. Immediately he cries out, snapping back to cradle smoking and blistered fingers.
I grab hold of Kai and we both take a stumbling step back.
“Still too timid to be a real mage, boy. Give me your spellbook, and go to the healer. You’ll get it back when I think you deserve it.” Jace holds out an expecting hand.
Shaking, eyes wet, the boy unclasps his white spellbook with odd pink undertones, and hands it over before running away.
Jace scoffs at the poor kid and clasps the creepy, leather-bound tome to his leg. Then he lifts his own spellbook proudly, as if it were something to be worshipped.
“Only someone gifted this book by the rightful owner can take it,” he gloats. “It’s different from the others…ancient. Powerful. Maybe even the very first. One of the blood mages’ most powerful heirlooms and my father gave Emma strict instructions to pass it to me.”
Pride coats every word.
From the corner of my eye, I catch Emma’s beaming expression crack—just for a split second. Too quick to read, but before that mask is safely back in place, I see something green slither underneath.
“And Emma never asked for you to give it to her?” Kai asks, unbelieving.
“I don't need to,” Emma bites out, then clears her throat, that sickly sweet smile back in place. “Jace will restore our family.”
There is no way I believe Emma. However, one look at Jace and I can see he’s hooked.
“Rest up, Golden, and keep on my good side.” Jace lifts his chin, smirking down at me like he’s already on the blood mage throne. “We’re going to be moving soon, and the only reason your little friends aren’t dead is because of my good will. Remember that.”
