Page 116 of Hexbound
He'd not known much about his power then.
If you had the chance now, knowing that you might be able to save her, would you still do it?
Would you risk everything, try anything to save her?
The answer to that held no other options.Yes, a thousand times over.
His shoulders sank. Maybe this would bring disaster to the Order, but he could no longer fault his father for his choices. Bishop paused and waited for Drake to fall into place beside him.
"If you need my help with him...." His voice came out dry as they set after the ladies. He couldn't feign excitement at the thought, no matter how hard he tried. "Then just tell me what to do. I'll respect your choice, even if I don't agree with it."
Drake limped along beside him, his cane sinking into the powdery snow that had fallen overnight. He silently clasped a hand on Bishop's shoulder. "Thank you."
Lights bobbedthrough the forest ahead of them as sorcerers streamed through the trees. Dusk was falling and the lights soon began to resemble those of will o' the wisp. Some were mage globes, hovering balls of pale white light that bobbed ahead of their owners. Others were merely lanterns.
Bishop tucked Verity's hand in the crook of his arm and nodded at a sorcerer he knew as the man ushered his two sisters through the snow. A buzz of nervous excitement lit through his veins. Too many trees. Too many people in hoods. The rest of theSicariicould be anywhere.
All it would take would be one of them.
"This is amazing," Verity whispered, looking around. "Where are we going?"
"Willoughby Hollow," he replied, seeing it anew through her eyes. To someone who had known nothing of the Order he supposed that this was probably quite astounding.
A quick sideways glance showed her pert nose and upturned profile. There was something about Verity that was pure innocence. A joy in life that she couldn't hide, and one that beckoned him along with it. Being with her was like experiencing the world without the gloom and shadows that accompanied his version of it. Or perhaps, like stopping and actually seeing what was around him for the first time in years.
He wanted to show her more of the amazing things that filled his life; things he rarely even gave thought to anymore. Imagine what she'd think of the Samhain or Beltane rites? And the dancing then.
"The Hollow's a sacred place the Order used when it was first established. The owner of the land was a sorceress named Amelia Kane. Upon her death she deeded the land to the Order. There's an enormous ley line running beneath it, that you might be able to feel when we get closer. Only sorcerers are welcome, and we celebrate the equinoxes here."
They were getting closer. More and more sorcerers streamed out of the trees, wearing red velvet capes. It was quite ethereal, if one looked at it in whimsical fashion.
Lucien, Ianthe, and Cleo Montcalm waited at an intersection of birches ahead of them. Trembling snowflakes quivered through the air, as if almost hesitant to touch the ground. He looked up, but the clouded skies promised only a light flutter of snow.
A flash of movement made him glance to the side. A sorcerer in a red cloak nodded at him, and unease skittered down Bishop's spine as the stranger slipped away through the trees. If he weren't imagining things, the man had been watching him.
There went the wonder. The sense of enjoyment.
He couldn't forget what else this was; a chance at power for a lot of people.
"Be on your guard," Bishop told Verity, looking around at the shadowy forest. Snow crunched underfoot and the scarlet robe he wore dragged in it. Only Verity wore a robe of black velvet; the rest were adorned in red, like he, to indicate their status in the Order. "The grotto is a half mile away and if anyone is going to try something, it will be here. Once we're at the grotto, it's too late. Too many witnesses."
"Well-met," Ianthe called, stepping forward and greeting Eleanor, then kissing Drake on both cheeks. Her eyes met Drake's and Bishop wondered what they were both thinking.
Ianthe hadn't yet committed to throw her hat in the ring. As Bishop glanced past her, toward his half brother, he saw no sign of the answer there either.
"You expect trouble?" Lucien asked, stepping forward to clasp his hand. His half brother bore the rings of a sorcerer of the seventh level, and power spilled through his body to an immense degree. Bishop might not be able to match him in raw strength, but was certain his control and finesse with weaving sorcery granted him equal status.
He met his half brother's eyes. They were an unusual amber color, but Bishop saw perhaps a little similarity between them around the nose and the shape of the mouth. Disconcerting, to say the least. As was the tremor of power running between them as their hands linked. Bishop pulled his hand away. "I always expect trouble, but at this moment, I consider it a foregone conclusion."
Lucien's gaze shifted to his wife, and it was easy to see the emotions that flickered there.
"If anything happens, I'll protect Drake," he told his brother, to assuage his concerns. "You keep an eye on the ladies."
Ianthe overheard and arched a black brow. "Yes, do be a dear, darling, and make sure I'm safe."
Lucien held his hands up in surrender. "I didn't say it."
Ianthe snorted, and very deliberately rolled her eyes in Bishop's direction. "Is he always like this?" she asked Verity, tucking an arm through Verity's elbow in a conspiratorial manner. "Paranoid, controlling, and grim?"
