Dead Man's Deal The Asylum Tales - By Jocelynn Drake Page 0,119

leave. “What do you mean? What’s the trade?”

“You gave me the truth. As painful as it was, pulled straight from your heart, you gave me the truth. It’s a very rare thing in the world and I highly value that gift. Thank you.”

I nodded jerkily, no longer trusting my voice. I was feeling wrung out under the weight of my relief.

Gaia stepped back, but she held both of my hands in hers. “Now, it’s getting late and I need to send you back. I will visit with Arianna tomorrow, I promise, and will see about setting things right for the elves. You warn that little witch that she needs to stop messing in my domain.”

“I will. She is sorry,” I said, giving her hands a squeeze. “Could you tell everyone I said good-bye?”

Gaia arched a mocking eyebrow at me. “Even Rocky?”

I smirked back at her, starting to feel a little more like my usual self. “Especially Rocky.”

“Of course.”

I drew in a deep breath, feeling my smirk slip from my mouth. “Hug Squall for me?”

“Every day and twice on Sunday.”

“Thank you . . . for everything.”

Her smile grew a little wider, sending a tear skidding down her cheek. “Good luck and I’m sorry about this.”

I wanted to ask what she meant by her last comment, but I didn’t get the chance. In an instant, the world went dark and her hands slipped from mine. It lasted only a second. I blinked and Gaia’s garden had been replaced with the parking lot behind my apartment building. It took me only a breath to realize why she had apologized. With me in the parking lot were three warlocks and a witch. The same witch I should have killed when she attacked me the first time. Damn. This was going to get ugly.

22

WE ALL STOOD there stunned. I was confused as hell as to what they were doing in my parking lot and they were confused as hell as to where I had come from. Common sense said that they had been preparing another attack on my apartment, but the panic screaming through my brain was drowning out any common sense I had left. I didn’t have my wand, I didn’t have the keys to my car, and I didn’t have a clue as to what the fuck I could do to get out of this mess.

“That was nice of you to come to us,” said one warlock, drawing my gaze to his face. He looked vaguely familiar, but then I had met few other magic users while I had lived in the Towers ten years ago. Those that I had met outside of my mentor, Simon, had been on . . . Oh, fuck.

“You’re on the council,” I said, talking mostly to myself as I took a step backward. “Fox. Henry Fox?”

“Correct,” Henry said with a grim smile. The bastard had argued for my immediate execution when I had been brought up on charges. Apparently, he was still against the idea of me breathing.

My gaze swept around the parking lot, searching for an escape. After they had gotten over their momentary shock, the quartet had spread out, leaving me without an exit. The one potential weak spot was the bitch that I should have killed the first time. It made sense that my mistake would come back to haunt me in a big fucking way. I hated when Gideon was right. After dumping her in a net at the bottom of the ocean off the North Shore, I could only imagine that she was most eager to get rid of me.

“Warlocks who visit Low Town have been disappearing recently,” Henry said pleasantly, his voice crawling across my skin like fire ants dragging razor blades. After my time in Gaia’s garden, the whole world seemed to be washed in a dull gray light despite the fact that the setting sun was painting the sky in shades of pink and orange. Sounds and smells clashed together in a discordant fashion like a toddler pounding on a piano, leaving me flinching as my mind tried to make sense of Henry’s words. “First Master Thorn goes missing two months ago, and now in a matter of days, Masters Rosenblum and Wilson disappear.”

“Low Town can be a dangerous place if you’re not prepared,” I said between clenched teeth. Without moving a muscle, I started drawing small amounts of energy to me, swirling it around my hands and letting it seep into my skin. The cacophonous feel of the