Wicked Release(9)
“Sarah, I haven’t really had a chance to introduce you to my family or tell you anything about how I found you. I’m taking that time now. Tucker and Tyghe are my older brothers. Callie—Callie Fairbanks—is their triad match. My sister, Harrison, is here as well with Jacob and Ric. My name, in case you haven’t guessed by now, is Lorie. Lawrence. And my cousin needs no introduction. At this point you might know him better than I do.”
He was hurt. She could feel it. The healer in her, the part that had connected with him and mended his body, felt the wound in his heart. Because she’d been with—
Sarah’s eyes, the one part of her that could move, widened. Did he say Callie was a Fairbanks? She wished his brother would at least allow her to speak, but she could see Lorie wasn’t done.
He caressed her calves absently as he spoke. “I’ve been dreaming about you most of my life. About a cursed book and the princess trapped inside. And I’ve spent a lifetime searching for clues.”
Con snorted. “Wish to hell you’d let me in on that little secret, man. You have no idea how much your hermit habits cramped my style. If I’d known, I could have helped.”
Lorie ignored him. “What I learned was that every Tom, Dick and Gertrude dreams of cursing people into inanimate objects, but no lone witch has been able to master it. There would have to be seven, minimum. But why, I wondered, would the seven Magians needed to compress a single life into a book or image all agree to do something so onerous? Why wouldn’t they strip away the witch’s power, as decreed by law? Or kill her, if she were that much of a threat? They would all have to agree that eternal suffering was a worthy punishment for the crime, and that many Magians rarely agree on anything, even if they’re family.”
She glanced up quickly, searching the small army of faces for judgment or hostility. She found only sympathy and confusion.
Sarah’s gaze clashed with Lorie’s again, trying to convey her desire to speak, and he seemed to understand. “Tucker, before Tyghe allows Sarah to speak, I need your oath that the conversation we’re having now stays in the family. Your triad is not here to represent Magian law. Nothing we say leaves this room.”
She’d forgotten they were protectors. Did Lorie expect her to confess? She refused to be a prisoner again. But no, he was asking his brother to keep her confidence. Why?
Tucker hesitated, and Con took a step toward him. “Your oath, Tucker. We would do the same for Callie. You know we would.”
The brother nodded. “Of course. You have our word.”
Lorie gestured toward Tyghe without turning around. “Sarah, you can speak now. We want to help you, but we need you to answer a few questions.”
She opened her mouth experimentally, licking her dry lips before she spoke. “I will answer whatever I can, Lorie.”
His smile made her heart pound. He took her breath away. His smile, combined with his touch was dangerously distracting. “Sarah Blackwood, the only one of your name, I need to know why. Why were you trapped in that spell? What had you been accused of?”
They truly didn’t know? And what did he mean, the only one of her name? “But you knew my name. I’m a Blackwood. Are there no records of what happened in the library?” She hesitated. She’d been grateful for their ignorance when she first arrived, but now she knew something was wrong. “What do you know of the Magian massacre in Salem?”
Harrison took a step forward and studied Sarah closely. “Magian massacre? I’ve been forced to study Magian history most of my life, and while there have been crimes of passion and the occasional duel, the only story of witches being killed in Salem was all based on a misunderstanding. One that, sadly, killed too many innocent humans. We hold an event there each year to honor them. But I’ve never read anything about a massacre.”
Sarah knew she should stop shaking her head, but she couldn’t. “That can’t be true. I’m not mad. I was there. It happened. How can there be no record when so many Magians were killed?”
Now Con was beside her as well, the two men touching her, comforting her. Lorie squeezed her knees. “It’s okay, Sarah. We’ll figure this out. I knew your name because it is in the book where I found you. In the title itself. An Ode To Sarah Blackwood. Most of it simply reads like a day in the life of Magian women in the late sixteen hundreds. There are recipes and handwritten lists, a few strange poems about the ancient war.” He paused. “Mixed in with all of that, there is a portal leading into—”
“Her prison,” Con interrupted tightly. “So you were cursed into that book because they thought you had something to do with the so-called slaughter none of us has ever heard about? Help us out, Sarah. Is that what you’re saying?”