Consort of Pain_A Paranormal Reverse Harem Novel Page 2

  He was right. My magic would deplete itself without my actual consorts next to me to help stoke my spark. And when I was out of energy, we’d be completely vulnerable to anything the enforcers threw at us.

  Chapter Two

  Gabriel

  I almost would’ve been insulted that Rose’s “Assembly” had sent just one person to deal with me—and that the person in question was a woman so short and skinny you could have taken her for a fifth grader if it wasn’t for the lines starting to form at the corners of her eyes. Except I’d been around Rose and her witching kind for long enough to know that they didn’t need physical strength to be plenty threatening.

  This witch made that very clear from the moment she sat down across from me, with a quick flip of her hand. All at once, a piercing sensation formed at the back of my skull. My tongue seemed to loosen. I gripped the edge of the bench so tightly the hard underside dug into my fingers, but I could tell I wouldn’t be able to withstand her magic.

  I gritted my teeth, prepared to hold out as long as I possibly could, and a whisper of Rose’s energy washed over me. I’d have recognized her anywhere—even across a building, apparently. Her touch wrapped around my mind and deflected some of the pressure.

  Only some. I couldn’t imagine how many battles she might be fighting at the same time, between protecting herself and whatever she needed to do for the other guys. I couldn’t ask for more help than she was already giving me.

  That was okay. Self-control was a skill I had a lot of practice with. And I had my own ways of bolstering my resolve. I drew up my memories of Rose from the last few weeks like a shield. Rose’s smile and embrace when I’d turned up at Jin’s art gallery and found her waiting for me. Rose leaning into me as she admitted her fears. Rose’s mouth against mine, her body hot beneath me. The rush of awe that shot through me when I watched her work her magic.

  And love. That intensely tender swelling of love that awoke behind my ribs every time I thought of her.

  I wasn’t naïve to think that love could shield me from everything. But it made me even more ready to fight for it, for her.

  The witch interrogator leaned forward in her chair, her eyes intent. She tapped her foot against the floor in an erratic rhythm that might have been strategic or just a personal tic. No other sound except that occasional patter penetrated the white walls of the little room they’d stuck me in. They had the air conditioning turned up too high. Goosebumps had popped up down my arms below the sleeves of my T-shirt.

  “There’s no point in fighting,” the interrogator said. “We know at least some of you have completed the consorting ceremony with Miss Hallowell. Let me know whether you’re one of her consorts, and we’ll be done here.”

  I didn’t believe that we’d really be done, not for a second. And especially not when she followed up the question with a flick of her fingers that sent another jolt of pain through my head. I winced in the second before Rose’s moderating influence closed around it, numbing the worst of the effect.

  These weren’t the sort of people who simply had a little chat with you and then sent you on your way. No, they’d much more likely dump me lifeless in a ditch once they’d gotten what they wanted. They had done that to at least one other guy who’d hooked up with a witch, from the stories our brainiac Kyler had discovered.

  “I don’t think that’s any of your business,” I said.

  She let out a huff of breath. “What has Miss Hallowell told you about witching society?”

  “None of your business.”

  “Which of your friends has taken the role of consort?”

  “None of your—”

  Another spear of pain cut off my words and my breath. My tongue slipped. “They all—”

  The pain numbed just slightly. I clamped my mouth shut, watching the interrogator. She was frowning, so I guessed those two words hadn’t given her enough to draw any conclusions.

  As she kept asking her questions, I kept repeating my standard line. “None of your business.” She asked about my job on Rose’s estate and how I’d known her and what my association with the other guys was, but mostly she kept coming back to the same subject: Who Rose’s consorts were. Whether I was one of them.

  Apparently they couldn’t just tell. I kind of liked the idea that a bond like that was private between the ones who’d formed it, unless they chose to tell people about it. Even if I wasn’t one of the recipients of that bond. Yet. Possibly ever, if we didn’t make it out of here.

  I gathered myself, trying to find more of my own inner calm to steady myself alongside what Rose was offering me. An echo of her voice, just a couple nights ago, swam up in my mind. Haven’t you always done everything you could to help me, to help everyone you care about? I want all of you, even the parts you’re scared of.

  There were ways I could work this. Turn the conversation around. Find a point of entry. I knew how to talk to people. Maybe that could get me somewhere useful.

  “It’s really important to you to put names on Rose’s consorts, huh?” I said. “Just for your records?”

  “Something like that,” the interrogator said narrowly. Her shoulders had stiffened a little. She didn’t like me asking her questions.

  “Does that have anything to do with our arrest?” I asked. “Can a consort be charged for the same crimes as a witch because he helped kindle her magic?”

  “You don’t need to worry about facing those sorts of sanctions.” Her tone was not at all reassuring. “It will simply help us get a full picture of the situation.”

  There was obviously more to it than that. What had Rose told us about consorting? Having an intimate partner was necessary for witches to maintain their magic, but if that was all these people were worried about, they could have killed us right now and cut her off permanently. What would it matter who was who? I didn’t for a second believe they cared about sparing any of us who weren’t that closely tied to her. We all knew too much.

  But they didn’t want to hurt Rose. The woman who’d led the charge when we’d all been taken had mentioned that. Was that it? Rose had also said the consort bonds could be broken, but not during the first few years when they were fresh—not without major consequences. She’d only taken the other guys as consorts in the last month. How much would it hurt her if those bonds were severed now?

  A cold prickle ran down my back. That was it, wasn’t it? They were trying to figure out which of us they could dispose of now without doing any damage to her.

  The second they figured out I wasn’t magically tied to Rose’s well-being, it’d be dead in a ditch for me, absolutely.

  “I think I get it,” I said, testing out the idea. “You’re worried about Rose—worried about how she might be affected by us if you shattered those consort bonds. That’s it, isn’t it?

  The interrogator’s lips pressed flat. That looked like a confirmation to me.

  “I’ve told you, you don’t need to worry about anything happening to you,” she said.

  My arm twitched with the urge to rub the back of my neck. The shackle around it held it to the bench. The spell she was aiming at me jabbed down my spine.

  “Other than the magical brain attack you’ve got going on?” I said. Nothing would happen to me except a little tormenting.

  She shrugged. “It’s important we get this information quickly. That will be over when you’re willing to talk.”

  How generous of them. I managed not to grimace. “She must be very important to you. But not because you’re trying to make her happy, because this definitely isn’t the way you’d accomplish that. So I’m guessing there’s something you want to use her for.”

  The creases at the corners of the interrogator’s lips deepened. Oh, yeah, they had a plan for Rose. Well, they could forget about getting anything from me they could put toward that.

  “Miss Hallowell is guilty of several crimes,” the woman said. “That is our only concern.”

  “Well, I can talk to you about that,” I s
aid easily. “I saw some of what was going on in her home. She was trying to protect herself exactly the way you would if someone wanted to sell you into slavery, I’d guess. Maybe you can tell me a little more about witching society. Do you have a concept of self-defense?”

  “I think these matters are too complicated for you to understand,” the interrogator said. “You need to start answering questions, not asking them. Are you Miss Hallowell’s consort?”

  With the emphasis she put on that last question, she seemed to scrap magical claws right across my brain. A shudder of agony ran through my body. My jaw jerked against my hold and dropped open. “None— None of— I—”

  The cool balm of Rose’s energy whispered over me again. I snapped my mouth shut in relief. The pain still radiated through my skull, but more like a bad headache than full-out torture.

  Until the interrogator decided to up the ante even more. How long could Rose keep up this protection?

  The woman inhaled as if she were about to ask another question, and the door to the room eased open. A young man poked his head around it.

  “We’re leaving them for now,” he said.

  The interrogator stood up. “What? I just need more time.”

  The guy shook his head and cut a glance toward me that looked eerily amused. “Give them time to think about their situation. And time for her to wear out her magic. Then it’ll be easy.”

  If Rose ran out of magic—yeah, it probably would be easy. It had to be hard enough for her trying to shield all of us as well as she could even now. I swallowed a trickle of nausea.

  The interrogator clearly wasn’t convinced. She set her hands on her hips with a swish of her ponytail and glared at me.

  “Is that what you really want? For us to exhaust her? You could end all this right now. You have no idea what else the next enforcer who comes for you might do. At least I was willing to stick to talking.”

  “Yeah,” I said. “I’m very worried. Shaking in my shoes here.” I stretched out my legs as far as the chains attached to them allowed and arched an eyebrow at her.

  The guy at the door chuckled. “You wouldn’t be saying that if you had any idea what you haven’t seen yet. Maybe we’ll take you right out to the Cliff. I bet that’d terrify the answers out of you.”

  The interrogator turned her glare on him with a hiss of annoyance. He flushed and ducked back out.

  “The Cliff, huh?” I said to her. “That sounds intriguing. Sure, let’s take a trip out there.”

  “Don’t you worry about the Cliff,” she snapped, with more force than really made sense to me. What the hell was this Cliff that Rose’s witching people were talking about like it had a capital C? She’d never mentioned anything about a cliff that I’d heard.

  The interrogator strode to the door, but she made one last jerk of her hand before she headed out. Not even asking a question to go with it. Just reminding me how much she could hurt me. A burning sensation sliced through the top of my head. I bit my tongue trying not to make a sound, but she smiled. She could tell she’d hit the mark.

  The second the door shut behind her, I sagged back against the wall. My head continued to ache dully. I wet my lips.

  I didn’t know what the Cliff was or what else the witches might have in store, but I definitely wasn’t going to last all that long without Rose’s help. How long could she hold out?

  She needed me. I hadn’t betrayed her, but how was I actually going to help her and the rest of us?

  Chapter Three

  Rose

  The magical pressure attacking Jin’s mind eased off, and I tipped my head back against the wall of my cell. The hard surface behind me felt almost as distant as my impressions of my consorts.

  It’d been hours of this—an attack on one guy and then another, sometimes two or three at once. Our bond made shielding all of them except Gabriel easy to an extent. But even doing something fairly easy wore a person out after a while. An ache ran from the top of my neck down my spine to my tailbone.

  “They really could have stood to make this place more comfortable,” Philomena remarked.

  I didn’t open my eyes. They felt too heavy. “It’s a prison. They don’t want me to be comfortable.”

  “I’m just making the observation. I truly feel they’re doing a disservice to your high standing.”

  “I warped my dad’s mind. I don’t have any standing in witching society now. I’m lucky I’m even alive.”

  She sniffed, and her skirts rustled. “Not for very much longer, if this Assembly of yours has their way.”

  I shook my head. “They don’t want to kill me. They’d have gotten it over with already if they did. There’s something else they want from me.” Maybe just a confession so they could lock me up without any repercussions from whichever Assembly members weren’t aware of their conspiracy? Maybe more than that.

  “Who gives a shit what they want?” Damon said.

  My eyes popped open. Phil was still perched next to me on the bench, but my mind had brought my guys into being in imaginary form around me again too. Seeing them, knowing that their real selves were probably a lot more battered than they looked to me here, wasn’t comforting anymore. The sight sent a sharper ache through my heart.

  “When you know what people want, it’s a lot easier to get people to do what you want,” Gabriel said to Damon. He raked his fingers through his dark red hair, his gaze distant with thought.

  “I don’t think we’re going to persuade these people of anything,” Seth said from where he was standing by the door. “We’ve just got to get Rose out.”

  Jin traced a finger along the wall. “I wish it were as easy as drawing an exit on the wall and stepping through it.” He cocked his head at me with his playful smile. “Or maybe it is, with your magic?”

  “No,” I said. “I don’t know any spell like that—not that I’m in much of a position to cast anyway.” I lifted my bound hands.

  “Your magic is probably our best chance of getting out,” Kyler said, coming to stand by me. “How restricted are you with those restraints? You’ve been able to help us a little already.”

  “I can only do really basic things,” I said. “Shift the magic through myself or connections already in place. To do anything larger or more finely tuned, I’d really need to use my arms and legs, my hands… It’s the patterns and movements that direct the spell.”

  Gabriel’s mouth slanted down. “And I guess it’s a little much to hope you could break those restraints without using magic to do it.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Fuckers.” Damon kicked the wall and spun around, tugging at his leather jacket. “We’re not letting them get away with this.”

  My throat tightened. “I wish I could really talk to you. Find out what you’ve seen, what they’ve said to you.” If I’d had the use of my full body, I might have been able to send thoughts back and forth with them… but I didn’t.

  I reached out to my sense of the actual guys again. The enforcers hadn’t started up any new attacks since they’d left off Jin. Hard to believe they were actually giving me a chance to rest. But of course rest wouldn’t replenish my magic. Only the loving touch of my consorts could do that, and my imagined versions of them couldn’t produce the effect I needed.

  Maybe they were giving me some time to think, to realize how tired I was getting, before they came right at me again. I wasn’t about to break yet—they couldn’t know how brightly my spark had been lit with all four of my lovers—but by tomorrow? My heart sank at the thought.

  And at some point I’d have to sleep. I wouldn’t be able to keep protecting the guys if I wasn’t conscious. I clenched my jaw against the urge to yawn.

  “If we’re going to do something, we need to do it soon,” I said. “I just don’t know what we can do.”

  “Oh, Rose.” Philomena leaned against me, wrapping her hand around mine in its thick mitten encasing. Even through that, I felt a whisper of her touch. Because it was imagined, and no re
straint could stop that.

  All at once, my body went still except for the thud of my pulse.

  Kyler looked up, his tawny curls jostling. “What is it, Rose? Did you think of something?”

  “I might…” I tested the idea with my thoughts, having trouble believing I might actually have found the answer. But I couldn’t think of any reason it definitely wouldn’t work. “Dad always said I had a bit of an overactive imagination, and he didn’t know the half of it. I’ve made Philomena practically come to life for years. I can see you here with me now as if you were completely real.”

  “You have an artist’s mind,” Jin said, still smiling. “Bringing what’s in your mind into reality.”

  “That’s exactly it.” I sat up straighter. “The main part of a spell is mental—focusing on what you want. Figuring out the right words to call it up, where that applies. If I can imagine myself moving vividly enough… that might be enough to direct the magic even if I’m not physically in motion.”

  I had to try. Since I’d woken up here, it was the only option I’d thought of that had the slightest chance of working.

  Phil clapped her hands. “Brilliant!”

  I looked around at the guys. “I’m going to get you out of this prison if I possibly can. But I think for this I’m going to need every bit of my concentration. So I’ll see you soon, for real.”

  They nodded and vanished. Philomena blinked out of the room too. I dragged in a breath, hoping my last words were true.

  I might be able to cast a spell—so what spell was I going to cast? I had to get myself out of the room and free the guys from their cells, and then we’d need to escape this building and any protections around it. The latter part was going to be the hardest. As long as there were witching enforcers on hand who could throw their own spells at us, I couldn’t hope we’d make it to the front doors.