The Night Everything Fell Apart (The Nephilim Book 1)(101)

And suddenly...wasps. Thousands of wasps, swarming amid the paraphernalia. A low, sinister buzz filled his ears. Illusion? Or illusion-turned-to-reality? There was no way to know.

His stomach rolled. His gaze darted right and left, as if looking for a means of escape. There was none. He knew that.

“I searched for y’all,” Mab drawled. “I couldn’t find your sister or her lover. I couldn’t even find you, though you wear my thrall collar.” She moved closer. “Your sins didn’t begin there, sugar. It was bad of you, very bad, not to tell me Cybele and Arthur were fucking behind my back. And what about Cybele’s magic? No dormant should be powerful enough to give me the slip. But Cybele did. And you knew it.” She pursed her red lips. “You have no idea, Luc. No idea how angry all this makes me.”

A single wasp detached itself from the swarm. Lazily, it bobbed across the room, drifting ever closer. Cold sweat trickled down Luc’s forehead, stinging his eyes. The insect alighted on his head and began a slow crawl through his hair.

Mab had advanced, too. She was within reach of him now. Every muscle in Luc’s body clenched. “But you will know it,” she whispered. “Oh, you will. Remove your shirt.”

It took a long moment before his muscles unlocked enough to comply. He shucked off the shirt and let it drop to the floor. The wasp, dislodged from Luc’s hair, buzzed angrily in his ear.

A long red fingernail touched the center of his naked chest. It scored a light line downward, stopping an inch above his belt buckle. “You knew about Cybele. About Arthur,” Mab murmured. “And you did not tell me.”

Luc stared straight ahead, eyes focusing on the flickering gaslight. Mab’s nail circled once, around his navel. The wasp alighted on the back of his neck. His stomach clenched.

“I suspect they’re together,” she said. “I suspect y’all have been together these past two days.”

“Yes.”

“They are hidden by strong magic.”

“Yes.”

She drew back, her red lips twisting. “So many disturbing events.” She tapped the butt of her whip handle against her palm. “Arthur gone rogue. Surviving his Ordeal without a guide. A horde of hellfiends streaming out of one of the places Merlin was supposed to have died.” A dozen or more wasps separated from the swarm and flew in his direction.

“Tell me, Luc. Did Arthur find Merlin’s cave? Did he free those hellfiends?”

“Yes.”

“How?”

He ignored the sensation of the insects alighting on his arms, his shoulders, his chest. “With Merlin’s staff. He’s found it. Its power belongs to Arthur now.”

Mab went still at this pronouncement. Shock, however brief, showed in her dark eyes. Luc couldn’t suppress a rush of satisfaction.

“Arthur gave me a message for you,” he said.

“Message? What message?”

“The heir of Merlin issues a challenge. A duel to the death for the position of alpha and the right to lead the Druid clan. He awaits you at T?’r Cythraul.”

For a long moment, Mab remained silent. Then she smiled and spread her hand on Luc’s chest. One of the wasps was trapped beneath it. Its stinger sunk into Luc’s flesh.

Mab’s voice was dangerously soft. “And does Arthur believe he can defeat me?”

“Yes. Yes, he does believe it.” It was not, precisely, a lie. Arthur believed there was a chance he could defeat Mab. A slim one, yes, but a chance, nonetheless.

She smiled. “If he doesn’t win, and I succeed in keeping him alive, I will collar him. He’ll be my thrall.”

“Yes.” Luc swallowed. “He knows that.”

He couldn’t let Mab realize how likely that scenario was. If she knew how unstable Arthur’s magic was, she’d be off to England like a shot. Arthur needed every hour, every minute, Luc could give him.

“He’s willing to take that risk,” Luc said. “That should give you an idea of how powerful he is.”

“Should it? Perhaps.” Mab tapped a finger against her full lower lip. “But somehow, I’m not convinced. The truth is never so simple. There are always secrets.”

She moved closer and pressed her body against him. Her lips whispered hotly against his ear. “Tell me, Luc. Tell me Arthur’s secrets.”

He didn’t move, didn’t speak.

She stepped back, her voice no longer teasing. “I can take the knowledge from you. You are my thrall. When the pain I inflict on your body is broad enough, and deep enough, your brain will turn soft. But then you know that, don’t you? You remember your Ordeal.”

With a snapping sound, a lash of hellfire snaked from her whip handle. As if called by the magic, the entire swarm of wasps rose into the air. A writhing, buzzing mass of dread curdled in Luc’s stomach.

“Did you enjoy your Ordeal, sugar?”

Luc forced his reply past dry lips and tongue. “No, ma’am. I did not.”

“No? I did. I enjoyed it so very much.” Mab gazed at the swarming cloud of wasps, and past it, to her tools of pain and humiliation. “Now I’m fixing to enjoy myself again.”

Luc knew his mistress spoke the truth.





TWENTY-SIX


Lightning flashed.