Seduction (Curse of the Gods #3)

“We’ll have to leave soon, which means that we need to try and see if we can lengthen the link between us now.” Rome started ushering me toward the door.

Yael’s Persuasion stayed with me all the way back to Coen’s room, which was also where my little hidey hole still was. I might have a schedule where I slept in a different room and bed each night, and had my clothes and things scattered between all five, but I always felt like Coen’s space was a little bit more mine than the others.

As soon as we were fully inside with the door closed behind us, a figure stepped out from my little area and I couldn’t stop the small snarl that escaped from me.

What the hell was he doing here?





Four





Cyrus had his long white hair pulled back from his face, his pale eyes flicking right over me, as though he refused to acknowledge me at all. The severity of his hair only highlighted the unnatural beauty he possessed. And by beauty, I really meant that he was clearly still a gorgeous, arrogant bastard.

“Is she sleeping in there?” he asked, motioning to the little room with a nudge of his head.

“No.” Coen was the one to answer, while the rest of them stood around, watching Cyrus.

Nobody seemed surprised to see him, but maybe they had been expecting him to appear at some point. He was the Neutral God—the one who enforced Topian law and handled the disputes of the gods. I supposed it made sense that he would be there, seeing as the Abcurses had been called in to trial. He arched a brow at Coen’s response, but nobody said anything further.

After a moment, his eyes settled on me, and he brought up his hand, his fingers flicking in a ‘come here’ gesture.

“Bring her here,” he ordered. “I’ll do what I can, but you five need to be back in Topia within the next five clicks, or Staviti will rule a sentence in your absence, and it won’t be a favourable one.”

“Whoa.” I planted my feet before any of them could ‘bring’ me anywhere, a frown suddenly tugging down my lips. “What’s going on? I thought you said we weren’t going to transfer the link back to Cyrus?”

This time, my glare was on the five Abcurses. They didn’t wither under my panic-fuelled anger the way I had hoped that they would, but Siret grimaced, so at least it did something.

“We’re not.” Aros’s voice was a little deeper than usual, the rough tone carrying a hint of how he felt about that particular memory. “Cyrus is going to bind you to a temporary object. The magic will wear on it over time, and soul-link magic is extremely draining, so it won’t last long. But it should be enough to last the trial.”

“And if it isn’t?” My fierceness had melted away at the explanation, and I was now left with mostly fear. Fear for my guys, and a deep-rooted unease at the thought of being disconnected from them once again.

“Cyrus will be back to check on you tomorrow,” Rome answered, looking as though he had swallowed something distasteful. “If the trial isn’t over before then.”

“It could go that long?” I refused to turn and acknowledge Cyrus.

I was grateful that he had agreed to help, but I didn’t really believe that he was the helping sort. He was powerful and cold. I couldn’t help but think that he had an agenda, but I also couldn’t figure out what he could possibly want from me. He had kidnapped me once, determined to hand me over to Rau in exchange for a server—which was somehow both endearing and insulting at the same time. Maybe Rau had found another way to blackmail him?

“We don’t have any other options,” Yael cut into my thoughts, his eyes tracking hesitantly over my face.

None of them liked this idea.

“We need you to stay here,” Coen added. “And Neutral is aware of what will happen if we return and you’re not safe and whole.”

At those words, the Abcurses all shifted, their postures changing, their expressions shuttering. They had turned their attention back to Cyrus, effectively ending the negotiation part of our discussion.

“Actually, I’m not aware.” Cyrus was smiling, but there wasn’t any humour in it. It was the smile of a person who thought that he was untouchable.

Okay, fair enough. According to Topian law, Cyrus was … untouchable—but when had the Abcurse brothers ever followed the rules?

I turned back to the guys and witnessed the ripple of change that passed over them. Siret was trying not to smile and the hard look in Coen’s eyes had eased a little.

“Why don’t you fill me in before we start?” Cyrus prodded, sounding closer than he had a click ago.

I jumped at the touch on my shoulder, spinning around and brushing his hand off, but once again—his attention was on the guys.

“We might not be able to kill you,” Rome growled, as another hand landed on my shoulder, golden skin peeking into the corner of my eye.

Aros pulled me back, bringing me into his chest and away from Cyrus, as Rome stepped forward and slid in front of me, his voice lowering.

“But there are so many ways to hurt a person without touching them. There are so many ways to get to you, Cyrus. You know who our father is—you think he taught us nothing?”

“This is getting us nowhere.” Siret was suddenly beside Rome, reaching back to me, his hand on my arm, dragging me out of Aros’s grip. “This isn’t ideal for any of us—we all know why Cyrus agreed to this. He’s built of secrets, full of them—and Willa is an unknown in this world. The only way he can get close enough to observe her is to strike a deal with us—”

“And it just so happens you need something from me,” Cyrus cut in, smiling that same humourless smile. “And you had better hand her over before you run out of time. There’s every chance that Staviti will decide to pull you from exile and jail you for a period in Topia. What will you do with your little Beta-hybrid then?”

Jailed?

I quickly untangled myself from all the hands currently gripping me. Aros was still holding onto one arm, while Siret had the other, and Rome looked as though he was a fraction of a click from grabbing onto something, too. Only I had run out of limbs, which would mean that he would have to grab a leg or wrestle one of his brothers, and I didn’t want to waste any more time.

“Where’s the object?” I demanded quickly, managing to break free and squeeze between Rome and Siret. I squared my shoulders and tilted my head back, looking Cyrus square in the face and forcing him to meet my eyes properly for the first time.

There was no expression there as he stared at me, but he reached into his pocket and pulled out a leather string, dangling it from his fingers so that the smooth, pale-gold rock attached to the end was visible. It swung gently before my face, and I reached out to touch it, surprised by the way it hummed beneath the pads of my fingers. It was warm—almost warm enough to be uncomfortable, and the room dropped into a heavy sort of silence.

“How did you get that?” Yael finally asked, sounding shocked.