The Stars Over Bittergate Bay

Chapter 44

44

S idney needed a moment to process the scene, and he barely had it.

The sound of bone breaking plunged the room into chaos. Leo reached forward and hauled Sidney off the altar, hoisting him up. Sidney groaned, pain making his head spin. He landed hard on Leo’s shoulder, unable to see where they were going. His palm burned, flesh searing, clenched tight around his watch. Morrow howled, cradling his nose as blood gushed from between his hands. Leo jerked to a halt, and Sidney turned as best he could, looking over his shoulder. Zac was on his feet.

Jonas plowed into Zac like a freight train. Zac was knocked backward, and Jonas roared, huge and fearsome and gorgeous, his dark orange skin flushed crimson in anger. Relief and pain were a heady mixture. Sidney’s vision was starting to double. Leo gave a low whistle, and then Asterion was there, his metallic embroidery gleaming as he ushered them out a side door and into the graveyard.

“Take him—” Leo started.

“Here! Come here! What’s going on?” Father Michaels was pulling on a coat, rifle in his hand. Asterion stepped forward and took the gun from him.

“Your cottage is still warded, no?” Asterion demanded. Father Michaels nodded. “Shelter them. I’ll be back.” Father Michaels apparently needed no further instruction, but Sidney couldn’t leave Jonas behind.

“Leo, no! We can’t?—”

“Rookwood can take care of himself.” Leo tightened his grip on Sidney’s hips as Sidney began to squirm.

“No, Leo! Stop! I need to—” He reached back, accidentally clipping Leo’s injured forehead. Leo grunted in pain, and Sidney jerked himself to the side, tumbling to the ground.

He smacked his shoulder against a gravestone and scrambled to his feet. Too fast. Oh, Christ. He was going to be sick. He had to get to Jonas. Sidney tried to get his bearings, and he slipped, crashing back to the ground, his vision blurring, fingers clenching around the watch, as he slid into unconsciousness again.

“Enough,” Morrow said.

Jonas grabbed Mears’ knife off the floor and turned toward him. Blood ran in thick rivulets down from Morrow’s nostrils. Jonas couldn’t stop himself from smirking.

“Void the contract.”

“Fuck you,” Morrow sneered. “I’m the Viceroy of the Assembly, and I’ll do as I damn well please.”

“The Assembly is going to have a hell of a time taking orders from a Viceroy with no head,” Jonas retorted, spinning the knife in his hand. Morrow fell silent, glaring, teeth bared and bloody.

“Jonas,” Asterion’s voice was even. Jonas glanced over his shoulder to see Asterion in the doorway with a shotgun. “It’s treason.”

The Sorcerer’s Assembly was a major governing body across the magical realms. How Morrow had become one of their viceroys, Jonas didn’t really want to know. Jonas took a deep breath. At best, murdering Morrow would put him in prison for the rest of his life. But it would keep him from Sidney.

“You have something I want. I have something you want,” Morrow said slowly. Winced. “Let’s trade.”

“What do I have that you want?” And did it even matter? Was there anything he wouldn’t give for Sidney’s soul?

“I want Elmmond House. The property. All of it.” Jonas frowned, confused, and Morrow rolled his eyes. “When you banished me, I lost access to the social event of the Ascension season,” Morrow’s tone was light, but Jonas could hear the rage in his voice and almost wanted to laugh.

“Power brokering. Really, Edmund?” Jonas chuckled at the look of twisted rage on Morrow’s face. “You never fail to disappoint me.”

“I don’t have to offer you anything at all. I have what I need.” Morrow waved the contract, and Jonas only sighed.

Elmmond House, the cottage, was the only place Jonas had left. But even that wouldn’t feel like home without Sidney.

“Fine,” Jonas said. He stepped forward and Morrow took a step back.

“And an apology.” Before Jonas could open his mouth, a shotgun cocked behind him, and Jonas glanced back at Asterion.

The prince had the shotgun raised to his shoulder. A sporting stance, but it would still be effective.

“The contract, Morrow,” Asterion prompted.

“You wouldn’t,” Morrow said, though he didn’t sound sure. He glanced at Jonas, and Jonas shrugged, a little unsure himself. Asterion had been acting strangely.

“Fine,” Morrow sighed, as though they were all being unreasonable. Then he stepped forward and held the casting knife out to Jonas, still slick with Sidney’s blood.

Jonas drew the point of the blade across his palm and then handed the knife back to Morrow, without giving in to the urge to stab him to death.

“I can’t undo the binding until the full moon,” Jonas said. It was a practical matter only. Morrow scowled as he sliced his own hand.

“That’s what? Fifteen days?” He asked, not looking at Jonas. “That’s fine. It’ll give you time to move your things. Do me a favor and ask Verne if he’ll stay on. He always had a good handle on the place.” Jonas’s rolled his eyes, as Morrow set the knife down. He held out his hand, and Morrow shook it.

Sidney’s contract fizzled out of existence in a burst of blue and gold sparks, a lingering haze of grey smoke the only evidence it had ever existed at all. Morrow watched Jonas with a look of smug satisfaction, and Jonas was surprised to find he didn’t care in the slightest. He turned on his heel and walked out of the church, Asterion following closely behind.

“You deserve an award for your restraint,” Asterion said. Jonas snorted.

“So do you.”

“Where are you going to go?”

“It doesn’t matter.” Jonas paused. Leo and Sidney were nowhere to be seen. His chest was throbbing, his palm stinging, and it was hard to breathe in the cold night air. Panic was pressing back in. “Where are they?”

“Michaels’ house,” Asterion said, and Jonas started up the hill.