𝓜𝓪𝓻𝓴𝓮𝓭

Chapter 13

Stupid, stupid, stupid. Silas fought to keep his face impassive while he envisioned runes

and tried to power them, looking for a chink in the bonds Norgaard had laid on him. He'd told

Darien not to allow even an instant of skin on skin, and then given his bare hand to Norgaard.

To a friend. He was a friend.

It had taken him longer than it should've, in his fear for Darien, to notice the faint thread of

hell-power, and search wider in the room. He'd seen nothing in Norgaard's eyes, in his voice,

but he had to be involved. Silas wanted to dive into his Othersense and confirm where the

other taint was coming from, but the bonds constrained his magic. Logic said it had to be

Burns. Two men had gone to Crosby's. Two men had come back and testified there was

nothing wrong there, and at least one of them was demon tainted.

Burns and Norgaard. Are they working together? It was almost unheard of for two

demons to do so without clashing, but with a common goal, for an hour or a day? What kind

of hell gate did Crosby open? Norry, old friend, what happened?

Silas pictured a more elaborate unlocking rune and found a trickle of his lifeforce he could

direct into it. The bonds imprisoning him shuddered but held. Norgaard had always been

good at spellcraft.

Ferngold's attention shifted to Darien. "Perhaps we should put the truth spell on this young

man? That might solve our problem."

"No!" Silas managed to shake the room with his voice, even without Ferngold's power.

"He's my apprentice and I forbid it. Burns and then me."

"Forbid it why?" Burns's tone went silky. "Is he your latest conquest, spreading his legs for

you—?"

"Burns!" Ferngold's face was red. "You will immediately cease these distasteful

insinuations."

"No," Silas said firmly. "I forbid it because he carried ghosts for months, and now his mind

is finally his own. No one, not even the council, will force him to go through that again."

"True," Susan Snow put in. "It could be damaging to him. Really, I don't see what Burns is

making such a fuss about. Ferngold, you can promise to ask nothing more than what he found

in Crosby's house. That would settle the question nicely."

Burns took a step back. "I'm not the one accused—"

"Well, if it takes an accusation then I'll make one," Worthington said. "Because Silas is

right. Something in this room stinks."

Burns's eyes flickered back and forth between the council members. "I'm not staying here

to be insulted." He whirled and strode toward the door.

"Stop!" Ferngold threw some kind of restraint spell at Burns but it hit Burns's shields and

splashed off. In the places where it hit, a faint smoke arose, acrid with hellfire. Burns turned

to face them, hands raised. Silas saw the moment everyone in the room realized a demon was