Chapter 13

Thirteen

Afew days had passed, days spent in solitude for the most part. I couldn't help but chew on the thought that Lucien Diaboli was right; If I hadn't tried to escape and injured myself in the attempt, I wouldn't have been sat in this room for days, with nothing to do and no one to talk to.

The only person who came in was the maid, who would bring my meals, change my bandages, and spend a little while cleaning the room. She didn't talk, though I expected she had been told not to speak to me, likely on pain of death considering how brutal these Diaboli were.

So, I waited, sitting on my one good hand, waiting for the other arm to heal.

The summoning that morning was an abrupt thing. A small knock on the door, heralding the daily arrival of the maid, but it was Lucien who entered instead. Seeing him so suddenly caught me off guard, and when he asked me to get changed and join them downstairs, my anxiety spiked.

I found all three of them—Lucien, Mason, and Carla—waiting for me in the study, flanked on both sides by men in hoods and masks. My heart jumped straight into my throat.

Carla was lounging on a long couch with a tall-necked glass in one delicate hand. Mason and Lucien were standing in front of the crackling fireplace. While Lucien carefully watched my eyes, as if he was trying to communicate with me telepathically, his father prodded at the logs in the fireplace with a fire poker.

When he was done, he turned to look at me, the glowing red fire poker still held threateningly in his hand. "How good of you to finally join us," he said.

"I didn't know I was being summoned today," I said, swallowing the desire to retort sarcastically, "Otherwise I would've been dressed and ready."

"You have already set my plans back several days, what's another few minutes?" It sounded like he was joking, but I could feel the venom in his words.

A thought suddenly occurred to me, pushing me far deeper into panic mode than I would have wished to go. What if they're about to tell me they have Max? They were all here, after all, and it seemed to me like Mason was a theatrical man. He would want the pomp, the flash; he would want to see the shock as it broke across my face.

"Can we please move this along?" Carla asked, taking a disinterested sip from her long glass.

"Right," said Mason. He gave me his attention again. "You're useless to me right now, Ethera," he said.

I nodded. "Awesome."

"Until we have your brother and the amulet, you are a burden on our resources. We cook your meals, wash your clothes, change your bedsheets. You are living in my fantastic mansion, ‘rent free' so to speak, and that cannot stand."

They don't have him.

I instantly relaxed. "I like to think I'm a good house guest, at least."

"If you recall," He continued pointedly, choosing to ignore my light-hearted quip, "We will need to decide what to do with you, and your brother, after you retrieve the Engine for us. You can continue to be useless—but I promise you that won't end well, or you can work for your keep." ."

"I'm not sure what you want from me. You said it yourself, until you have the amulet, there's not much for me to do around here. Unless you want me mowing the lawn?—"

"—if you shut up, I'll tell you what I want from you. How about we start there?"

Lucien's eyes flashed wide, and worried. He wasn't speaking to me telepathically, but I got the gist of what he was trying to tell me anyway. They were words I had already said to myself at least once. Be careful, Beatrice. I had to remind myself who I was talking to, and just how thin his patience for me was.

"Right," I said.

Mason paused, examining me for a moment while Carla took another sip of her glass. I couldn't tell what was in it. Something sparkly, and purple.

"I want you to show me what you're capable of, Ethera," said Mason.

"Capable of?" I asked.

"Somewhere inside of you is Ethera magic, no doubt your parents taught you at least a thing or two. I want you to show me what they taught you; what their most valuable gift to you was."

I had to swallow the bile rising in my throat, my utter contempt for him. I had spent the last few days trying to move past what happened to my family, and in an instant, he had reminded me the wound was not even remotely healed.

"What's that going to accomplish?" I asked.

"That's for me to decide. Now, show me something interesting." He stuck the poker into the fireplace, twirled it around until it glowed red hot, and then pulled it back out. He wanted me to see it. He wanted to imply the kind of pain that might follow if I didn't do as he asked.

He didn't have to kill me.

He could just hurt me.

I scanned the room. "Are your men going to kill me if I use my powers?" I asked, "The last time I tried to use them, your demons weren't happy, either."

"My men have been instructed to wait for my order. The demons will also not pose a threat to you… so long as you don't do anything threatening."

I didn't have many options available to me. Comply, or don't; that was the long and short of it. I decided compliance was the safer option, so I walked toward the door to the study—the same door I had walked through to get into this room.

"Where are you going?" barked Mason.

I looked at him and Lucien across my shoulder. "To show you what I can do."

I turned toward the door again, placed my hand against it, and summoned a trickle of magic into my body. I felt the magic surge through me, filling me with adrenaline, with warmth, with the rush of raw power.

It only took a moment of thought, an ounce of concentration.

I took a step forward, going through the closed door. As I reached it, the atoms in my body shifted to become Ethereal, essentially making me ghostlike. Once I was in this state, I could cross solid boundaries, going through them and emerging on the other side of them.

The magic only lasted a moment, though. Once I was on the other side of the door, I turned around and opened it. All three of the Diaboli were staring at me. Mason and Carla with frowns, and suspicion; Lucien, with a touch of awe.

"How's that?" I asked.

"Interesting," said Mason. "Very interesting." He paused, then he looked down at his lounging wife. She turned her eyes up at him, and for an instant they flashed bright red. Mason nodded, then turned to look at me.

So, they can speak telepathically.

"What else do you want me to do?" I asked.

"How thick of a wall can you pass through like that?" asked Mason.

I looked around the room. The truth was, this power was limited; it wasn't necessarily about how thick a wall was, just how long I could keep the ephemeral shape for. It was usually only a split second, enough to phase through a simple, wooden door, but with effort, I could probably move through a solid, brick wall—like the walls of this house.

I crossed the room, heading for one of the outer walls. Mason and Carla both watched me like I was about to do something incredibly stupid; Lucien, too. I didn't. I only did what they asked. Bringing all of my concentration to bear, I stepped toward the outer wall, placed my hands on it, and plunged through it as fast as I could.

I hadn't realized there was a hedge on the other side of the wall, so I had to keep my concentration up for longer than I had wanted to, until I managed to stumble past it and make it outside. If I had lost concentration a moment sooner, there would've been branches poking out of my skin right now.

I waved at the Diaboli through the window.

Mason barked at his men, who quickly left the room. I was already walking back to the mansion's front door when his men caught me. I didn't resist. I let them drag me back into the study, where they held me in front of Mason Diaboli and his red eyes.

"That… could have been the biggest mistake of your life," he said. "Why didn't you try to run?"

"You told me yourself, trying to run away from here is hopeless," I said.

"That doesn't answer the question. I fully expected you to be dim-witted enough to try it."

"I'm a quick study."

He nodded, slowly, then with a gesture of his head, he ordered his men to release me, which they did. Both of them took a step back, away from me. Mason turned his head and looked over at his wife. She met his gaze, took another sip of her drink, only this time, she sharply turned her eyes on me.

I was so taken aback by her sudden eye contact I hadn't noticed Mason winding back his arm until the gleam of the glowing fire-poker caught my eye. He swung it toward me. Instead of ducking, I phased, turning my molecules into ephemera just long enough that the fire poker went swishing through my ethereal body.

When I solidified again, I took a step away from Mason. "What the hell was that for?!" I shrieked.

Mason hung the poker on the side of the fireplace, ran a hand through his hair to straighten it out, and brought the full weight of his gaze to bear. "I needed to know whether your little party trick was good in a fight," he said. "As it turns out, you're more capable than I gave you credit for."

Lucien looked like he was burning with anger on the inside, but he also looked entirely incapable of criticizing his father's decision to strike at me with that lethal weapon. If I hadn't been able to avoid it, I would've been seriously injured, or worse, which meant only one thing.

Mason Diaboli knew exactly what skill I was going to showcase.

"What does that even mean?" I asked.

"It means your skills are fit for purpose, Ethera," he said.

"You could've killed me."

"I could have killed you many times before now, but I have shown restraint at all times."

"Only because you need something from me."

"I do. And now I want something, as well."

"What's the difference?"

"Satisfying my need will save your life and that of your brother's. Satisfying my want will earn you at least some manner of respect within these halls."

I glanced at Lucien, only I didn't hold his eyes for more than an instant. The slight, almost imperceptible nod was enough to get me to come down from my adrenaline high and agree with the man who killed my family.

"Alright…" I said, "What happens now?"

"Sit down. I'm going to tell you exactly what I want you to do for us."