Finally, it dropped, and Rowan straightened, breathing hard. Stacy cast a glance over her shoulder at the pile of bodies. Though some had met a bloody end, many were merely unconscious. Either way, they were out of the fight.
One more line of defense, then we’re in the heart of Victor’s stronghold, she thought as they surged into the next room.
It was a wide, open space. The ceiling was high, with windows placed far over their heads. Silvery moonlight shone through, illuminating the line of defense waiting for them there. Stacy counted seven guards, and they were not like the ones they had left behind.
They were over six feet tall and wore white masks, concealing their faces. Dark cloaks swished around them, and they brandished gleaming swords. Victor’s last line of defense over his home.
What were these people? Did they have magic?
Stacy didn’t care. They were prepared to fight to the death, and she felt a white-hot wrath welling up. She summoned her magic like a tidal wave and imagined Victor at his gala, surrounded by flocks of the wealthy praising him for his various investments and business choices. She thought of those left on the streets, barely clothed and hungry. She thought of Amy and Spencer in the thick of his lair.
“Do it,” Kiera insisted.
“We’re right behind you,” Rowan added.
Stacy sent her magic crashing through the room.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
The sounds of the crowd grew muted to Victor as he pulled out his phone. He clenched the stem of the champagne glass he was holding, steely eyes flicking over the message not once, but twice. Then, a third time.
The message was brief and cryptic, giving him the barest information.
Assault on Aurora home. Guards incapacitated. Send reinforcements.
No word on who had done it or how many, but Victor knew who was behind the assault.
It took everything in him not to smash the glass against the nearest wall. He had the urge to storm out of the hotel, take the fastest car to his oldest estate, and face the witch himself.
What happened? He’d done everything to ensure she would come here. He had laid the perfect trap, and she had…
Fucking stepped around it.
Gone to his fucking house.
Laid the trap for him instead.
Victor seethed with fury but managed an outward appearance of calm and nonchalance. The last thing he should do was allow anyone to see his sudden alarm and distress. That was not the Victor he’d presented to these people for the past several decades. That was not the Victor his father and grandfather would approve of.
He searched the room for signs of his wife and son. They were by a far-off refreshment table, surrounded by adoring spectators. Good, they were safe for now.
An old woman’s tone reached him, drawing him back to the present. “You see, it would mean the world to me if my son could become an intern or apprentice at your company. He graduated from Yale, and—”
“Excuse me,” he cut in tersely. “I must handle a matter. You can direct your concern to my secretary and set up an appointment.”
“But I—”
Victor left the woman standing by a piano where an expert pianist was playing a soft tune, far more soothing than how he felt inside. He feigned going to the men’s room, then veered into a private sitting space through a concealed doorway. It was dimly lit and occupied by several men wearing black. His guards waiting for his command. One had a bandaged hand.
Victor glared. “What the fuck happened?”
“That bitch Greentree got away,” the bandaged man growled. He pointed to a slumped figure in a corner. “They knocked Smith out, too. I came around not ten minutes ago.”
Victor’s jaw tightened. Amy Greentree had come here knowing she would be a distraction while her witch friend Stacy made the true assault. Bait. Victor snapped his head toward a man standing by the door. “Ensure that my wife and son are taken upstairs and stay safe. I want men guarding their rooms all night, do you hear me?”
“Yes, sir.”
Victor’s speech grew faster, slightly higher-pitched than with his initial question. “Send all of my guards to the Aurora estate but five. Security has been breached. I want those men defending it.” He turned to leave, then spun back. “And someone find out where the fuck Garth is! I told him to come back!”
It took everything Victor had not to boil over in rage.
“And the other five?” his henchman asked.
“Send them after Greentree and her friend. Don’t bother bringing her in. If she’s not dead by dawn, I’ll put a bullet in your head.”
Victor strode from the room, slamming the door shut behind him.
Stacy felt like she was going to pass out.
She wobbled, and a hand caught her arm, steadying her. “You’re okay,” Rowan soothed.
She managed to remain on her feet. The magic had crested like a wave, bursting from her with a force she had never felt before. She intended to strike the guards, but in unleashing her magic, she had released too much. “I—” She fumbled her words as she surveyed the damage before her.
Her magic had hit the guards with a strong enough blast to put all of them flat on the floor. Some were unconscious or dead. Kiera surged forward to deal with those who weren’t. Shadows rippled around her. Her knife swung in the moonlight. Her work was quick and quiet. Stacy felt like she could watch the sidhe fae forever.
“You still want to get into Victor’s office?” Rowan asked with concern.
