The Night Everything Fell Apart (The Nephilim Book 1)(96)

A flash of red caught his eye. He broke off, swinging his head around to stare at Luc. “Oh, shit.”

“What?” Luc said, frowning.

“Your thrallstone,” Arthur said. “It’s glowing.”

Cybele sucked in a breath. “No. Oh, no. You used your magic, Luc, when Arthur...”

Luc slapped his palm over the stone. The ruby’s red light shone through his fingers. Arthur caught his friend’s gaze. Luc looked quickly away, but not before Arthur had seen the raw panic in his eyes.

“She’s found me,” he rasped.





TWENTY-FOUR


“I’m leaving.” Luc’s eyes were haunted. Cybele wanted to touch him, put her arms around her brother’s shoulders and hug him tight, but the rigid tension in his body told her he’d never allow it.

There’s nothing you can do,” he said. “She’s calling me. I have to answer.”

They were back in the apartment. Arthur stood by the window, the staff propped against the wall beside him. Luc eyed the door to the hallway, as if ready to bolt through it any second. Cybele leaned against the door. Leave? Her brother would have to go through her first.

“No.” Nausea churned her stomach. “You can’t leave, Luc. I just got you back. I can’t lose you again.”

“You never got me back,” Luc said tightly. “I belong to Mab. I always will.”

“Don’t say that.”

Her brother’s eyes were bleak. “It’s true, Cybele. Face it.”

She felt as if she were being torn apart. “No, I won’t—”

“Cybele.” Arthur spoke from his position by the window. “If he doesn’t go to Mab, she’ll be coming this way soon enough. She has to suspect we’re with him.”

“I’m sure she does,” Luc said. “But Mab isn’t one to go into a situation blind. It’d take her twelve hours to fly here from Texas—she’ll want to be sure of what’s going on before she arrives. She’ll want to lay out a plan.”

“She might send one of her thralls to investigate,” Arthur said. “Rand, probably.”

“Luc.” Cybele could hardly stand to think of her brother once again in Mab’s hands. “Don’t go back to Texas.”

“I can’t stay here. I won’t draw danger to you.”

“Go into hiding. There has to be somewhere Mab can’t find you.”

“Oblivion,” Luc said. “I tried that one. Didn’t work out.”

Cybele choked back a bitter taste in her throat. “There’s got to be another way.”

“There is,” Arthur said. “I’ll go with Luc to Texas and issue my challenge to Mab in person. You can stay here.”

“What? No. No way. I’m going with—”

“Neither of you are going to Texas,” Luc said flatly. “It would be suicide. Arthur’s not ready to take on Mab.”

“I might not be ready,” Arthur said, “but issuing my challenge now, before Mab expects it, will catch her off guard.” Arthur regarded Merlin’s staff with troubled eyes. “I’ll show her the staff. It’s damaged, but she won’t know that. She’ll wonder what I can do with it. She’ll be wary.”

“You can’t be stupid enough to think you can bluff your way through a duel,” Luc said hotly. “And do what—fool Mab into thinking you’ve found the key to Merlin’s power? When you can’t even call a spark into that stone? That’s bullshit. She’ll see through you in a fucking heartbeat.” He paused, and then continued in a quieter voice. “You think you know what she’s capable of? Believe me, you have no idea.”

But Luc knew. Cybele saw the truth of that in her brother’s eyes. Her heart, already bleeding for what he’d endured, broke in two.

“I’m not totally helpless against her,” Arthur replied calmly. “I have my ancestors’ memories—hundreds, perhaps thousands of experiences to guide me. I just need a bit of time to sort them out. And I have another advantage—the challenger chooses the battleground. I’ll choose T?’r Cythraul, where the magic of my line has been nurtured for centuries. Mab will need to travel. She’ll need to call the entire clan as witness. That should give me a day or so to prepare.”

“If she follows the rules,” Luc said. “What if she doesn’t? What if she kills you on sight? No.” He shifted his stance. “I’m going to Demon’s Hollow alone. I’ll deliver your challenge.”

“But—Mab will be furious.” Cybele said. “She’ll take it out on you.”

“Most likely,” Luc replied grimly. “And while she’s doing it, I’ll try to stall her. I’ll keep her away from Arthur as long as I can.”

The stone on his thrall collar chose that moment to flash. Cybele’s stomach turned. Images of perversion—dark, degrading acts her brother would be forced to endure—boiled into her brain. The expression on her face must’ve betrayed her horror, because Arthur abruptly crossed the room to stand at her side. He took her hand and laced her fingers tightly with his.

“I can’t stop you, can I?” Arthur said to Luc.