(Updates everyday)
Power demands what it's owed, and souls are its favorite currency.
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When museum curator, Lena Goodwin, receives an anonymous package containing damning evidence of a mistake she thought she buried years ago, her carefully built...
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Lena's wrists were bound from where she lay on Hugh's bed. She looked so peaceful, her breathing steady. Her body had finally given into the stress of the past two days. She was getting some much needed rest, but Hugh knew better than to be deceived by how she appeared when she was asleep. She had proven herself to be as stubborn as she was unpredictable, and underestimating her had cost him the last time.
Hugh wouldn't let Lena out of his sight. Not ever again, and if she had to be tied up to assure that, he wasn't going to be taking any chances. The only more secure place than his office was his living quarters. He never brought anyone here, but she hadn't given him much choice.
His home was hidden in a part of the city that was well populated, concealed with different spells and enchantments undetectable by even the most powerful mage. He only knew that because he had done the incantations himself.
It was small and unassuming, with thick walls that blocked out the city's noise and any prying eyes. Now, it doubled as his apartment and a place to contain her - an imprisonment.
Hugh moved silently across the room. His feet shuffled softly across the hard floors as he went to adjust her bindings again, making sure they were secure but not uncomfortable. Cutting off her blood circulation would only make her more irritable, he imagined.
Her wrists were tied in front of her, resting just below her chest to give her some mobility but lessened the risk of her doing anything reckless, which she was prone to. He wanted to ensure any attempts of that were minimal.
As he worked the rope, he felt the weight of the Codex pulsing faintly on his dinner table. He had an unrelenting power, that like the relic, was locked away by a dark magic. Who knew that he would relate so deeply to an intimate object rather than a real person.
But like the ancient book, Lena had been a struggle to control. He thought he could manipulate her with the right words, the right incentives, but she defied him at every turn. Her fierce and untamed spirit refused to be confined. She had a fire in her eyes that heines when she spoke of doing what was right. He admired the strength in her resolve, but she was naive. That would lead her straight into disaster if left unchecked, just like it had with Drakhar.
That was why she was bound. Not out of cruelty but necessity. Okay, maybe a bit of both. She needed to understand that her ideals, her noble intentions, meant nothing in the face of a power like the Codex. If she couldn't see that, then she was even more of a liability, and he had refused to use what bit of magic he had out of respect, and because it was illegal, but it seemed he might have to resort to it.
He had kept that secret close to his chest, letting Lena assume he was incapable of harnessing anything aside from strategy and calculation. He just hoped that she was so far out of it that she wouldn't remember him using it to save her. No, not her. The Codex. That was what he was telling himself. He refused to acknowledge the fear he felt when he saw completely powerless in Drakhar's grasp.
