I slam Claire against the wall, my wings pinning her in as I allow the fangs in my mouth to elongate and my eyes to fully change to obsidian, giving the beast full control. “You play with words, wench. I’ll give you two seconds to tell me the truth in its entirety before I end you.”
She’s shaking, her hands visibly so. She’s never been this close to the beast and he loves the fear in her eyes, loves the heady scent that wafts from her feeding us both. The beast loves fear, and he’s excited for the chance to make a kill.
“Have it your way,” I say as I reach out with my magic, watching as Claire feels the blood in her veins as it begins to boil. The pain on her face is priceless as she realizes I’m burning her from the inside, and she can’t stop it. No one can except for me.
“No!” she screams and huge tears fill her eyes. “I just wanted her gone!”
“Is that so? And tell me you stupid bitch; did it slip your imbecilic mind that you wanted her gone while she was heavily pregnant with my children?” I say, and it’s barely above a whisper. I can feel my men as they relish the excitement of the beast, wanting the kill as much as he does.
Her eyes flick to my men as if she’s looking for help. “Zahruk,” I growl and he steps up, his eyes gleefully aware of what I want. His clothing changes to his robes and he bares his brands as he whispers words that draw on his mother’s powers. He lays his hand on her forehead and projects for all of us what happened in this hall.
He’d used it on Syn before, and she’d hated me for it. I step away as she slides to her knees, as he pulls her past and replays the few minutes she’d had with Synthia. We all watch silently as she pleads for Zahruk to stop, but he continues.
I watch as Synthia follows me, or who she thinks is me, into the hallway and away from her guards. She thought it was me, up until the bolts are shoved through her tender flesh. Only then did she realize her mistake. Too late.
I don’t know the man who pretended to be me; don’t care, because he’s already dead. I watch as a portal is opened in the corridor, and she’s carried through it.
“Aodhan, trace and locate where that portal goes. Zahruk, ready the men for war,” I say, knowing it will be a dead end.
My men are ready, and as Claire stands up once more, I turn in her direction. “Asrian, take Claire to the lower levels and await me there.” I turn to my men who have already glamoured their armor on.
I glamour my armor on in anticipation of getting my woman back safely. I search through this world and the next for the mark, letting the beast do it this time, to track her through the bond they share and the mark alike.
As we get ready to sift out, Ristan shakes himself out of a vision. Probably the first he has had in a month. “Ryder, I know where she is, and this is very bad,” he says grimly. His eyes fill with despair that I won’t accept.
I’ll find her, and I’ll save her.
Chapter Nine
*~*Synthia*~*
I was slammed roughly against the floor as the Mages entered the room. They looked like Humans; no brands, no markings, or anything identifying them as being even partly Fae. They reminded me of Joseph and his ability to hide what he was; Changelings. They spoke to each other in low voices, and in a strange dialect I couldn’t identify or understand.