The Warrior Heir

Page 34

“Me? I'm a wizard. Dr. Longbranch hired me to keep an eye on you last fall. I couldn't understand why Longbranch considered you worth watching, so I decided to find out. I worked so hard on you, Jack. I ferreted out all your boring secrets, but my timing was all wrong. At the time, you were totally ignorant, and you had nothing to tell me. And Longbranch had you doped up on Weirsbane, so your body didn't leak magic, either.”
Jack could remember little about his dates with Leesha. A rather pleasant blur, nothing more.
“Now I work for myself,” Leesha went on. “And I've earned whatever I get, this time, believe me—stuck in this podunk town, making nice with hicks and idiots. Though I must say, it wasn't all unpleasant.” She leaned over and kissed him.
“Which reminds me.” She rummaged one-handed in her purse and produced a small bottle. She uncorked it with her teeth. Gripping his jaw, she forced his mouth open and dumped the contents in, stroking his throat so he swallowed most of it. It seemed to be something she'd had practice at.
The taste was familiar, and Leesha confirmed it. “Weirsbane.To prevent any nasty warrior surprises. A few minutes to let that take effect, and we'll be on our way.”
“How did you … how did you find out?”
“Well, I must say, the change in your physical attributes sparked an interest. And then Leander Hastings shows up in Trinity, which told me something was up.”
“You know Hastings?”
Leesha actually shivered. “That bleeding-heart traitor? We all know him. After he arrived, it seemed like you were always together. So I figured I'd slip you something at the party, take you into a back room, and see what I could find out. When you didn't show, I went out looking for you. And wasn't I surprised to see you blow poor Garrett clear across the parking lot.” She tapped herself on the forehead. “I mean, duh!”
Hansford cleared his throat. “Speaking of Hastings, maybe we should get going.”
“What are you going to do with me?” Jack asked quickly. Leesha was having a good time proving how stupid he'd been. Perhaps he could delay the inevitable a little longer.
“That depends. Both Houses are eager—make that desperate to get their hands on you. That should drive the price up.”
“You're traders,” Jack said, finally understanding. “You mean to … to sell me.” His stomach contracted, and he thought he really would be sick. Only, flat on his back as he was, unable to move, he would probably drown in it. He forced the thought away.
“That's right, Jack. One deal like this and we're set for life,” Sowicky said. “You're what we call a one-of-a-kind item. No more hours spent in dusty libraries and small-town courthouses, no more digging two-bit soothsayers and sorcerers out of their hidey holes to sell for a pittance.”
“I think he's ready.” Leesha stood and dusted off the back of her skirt. “Gotta go, Jack. Alicia Middleton wants nothing to do with a suspected drug dealer. But I'll see you later. Promise.” She looked in the mirror, corrected her lipstick, pushed through the doorway, and was gone.
Hansford and Sowicky each gripped an arm and hauled Jack upright, so he dangled between them, helpless.
“Now, we're going to walk out of here, quickly and quietly,” Sowicky said. He spoke a charm, and strength flooded back into Jack. He gave it about a second, then put his head down and plowed into Sowicky's midsection. The wizard fell hard, banging his head against the wall with a satisfying thump. Jack twisted and jumped high, slamming his right foot into Hansford's groin. Only, with his hands tied, Jack couldn't break his fall, and slammed painfully into the edge of the sink. The Weirsbane was working, dulling his reflexes, throwing his physical instincts into disarray.
Someone, Sowicky, he supposed it was, gripped him by the hair, forcing his head back into the bowl. The wizard turned the water on full blast, and Jack was drowning, spluttering and gasping, taking in water instead of air. Sowicky drove his fingers into Jack's midsection, sending power and pain ripping through him. When he tried to scream, he only sucked in more water. He twisted and turned, but could not avoid the wizard's touch.
After what seemed like an eternity, they lifted his head out of the sink and shoved him down to his knees on the floor. Sowicky gave him a sharp blow to the back, and Jack spewed water onto the tiles from his nose and mouth. But the wizards' hands under his arms kept him from falling forward onto his face.
“Amazing, isn't it, how much you can hurt a person without doing any real damage,” Hansford said softly. “That's just a crude demonstration, Jack. We know how to make you real sorry in ways you've never thought of. Don't mess with us.”
They lifted Jack to his feet again. Keeping a hold on each arm, they practically carried him out of the restroom. Jack noticed with some small satisfaction that Hansford was limping badly.
Jack scanned the corridor as best he could, his eyes streaming from the assault of the water, unable to wipe his face. There were still quite a few students around. The buzz of conversation stopped gradually, as those loitering in the hallway noticed the trio making their way to the door, the two men dragging their prisoner between them, Jack with his hair plastered down and dripping, his hands tied behind his back. The crowd in the hallway parted before them, the students backing up against the lockers on either side as if they wished they could crawl inside. Someone said, “Jack?” in a small and frightened voice. He didn't see who it was.
Then he saw Will and Penworthy standing by the door of the office. Jack wondered what Will was doing there, if he'd managed to find Hastings, but he didn't want to ask in front of the traders. Penworthy's mouth was hanging open. The two wizards spotted the principal, and Hansford seemed to be debating whether to offer an explanation or not. Finally, he said, loud enough for everyone to hear, “Sorry. He kind of went crazy in there. Must've been the drugs. It's okay now.”
Will took a step toward them. “Jack, what's going on?” His voice was quiet, but he had his fists clenched, and looked ready to jump at a word.
“No, Will.” Jack shook his head, acutely conscious of the wizards' promise in the restroom. “It's okay. I'll be all right. I need to go with them.”
Will took another step forward, as if to block their path. The outside door opened, and in strode his mother with Aunt Linda close behind. Jack swore softly. What were they doing here? Becka looked from Penworthy to the scene of Jack being dragged out by the two wizards. The expression on her face was dangerous. But it was Linda who spoke.
“Stop right there!” she commanded the traders. They came to a halt, staring, as if they were too surprised to do anything but obey.
Becka turned to the principal. “Leotis, I think you have some explaining to do.”
Leotis Penworthy looked more nervous than ever. He motioned to the two men in turn. “Becka, this is Mr. Hansford and Mr. Sowicky from the police department They need to ask Jack some questions. I thought you were going to meet them down at the police station.”
“I knew nothing about this until Will Childers called us fifteen minutes ago.” Jack recognized her lawyer voice. “I want to know what's going on here.”
Jack's heart sank. His mother would not be intimidated by the police. She would never allow them to walk out with him unchallenged. Becka might be an adversary to be reckoned with in a courtroom, but she was no match for wizards. And Linda was standing beside her sister, the full knowledge of the danger in her face, trying to decide what move to make. Please, God, Jack prayed. Not this. It was up to him to stop it.
He focused on his mother. “Mom. Listen to me. These men are not the police.”
She looked at Jack, then shifted her gaze to the two wizards. Sowicky tightened his grip on Jack's arm, a warning. Becka would brush aside any concerns about her own safety, so he used the argument that he knew would convince her. “They'll kill me if you interfere. They can do it in a heartbeat. The only way I have a chance is if you let me go with them. I'm serious.”
She gasped. “Jack,” she whispered, her voice breaking over the single syllable. “Please. This has to be some kind of mistake. You have the wrong person. Don't hurt him.” Jack was aware of movement behind him, the slight shifting of bodies that told him there were still students in the hallway.
“Please, Mom. Aunt Linda. Let us go. Do this for me.” His eyes slid to Linda, willing her to stay in place as well. She was studying the two wizards, sizing them up.
“Take me instead,” Linda suggested. “I ought to be worth something to the Trade.” The voice alone was enough to melt hearts, and now she glowed, as if illuminated from within. Jack felt a sudden push of power directed at the two wizards. The traders practically staggered under it.
Hansford thrust his free hand at Linda, and she flew backward and hit the wall, hard. She must have lost focus with the impact, because the effect of the spell was blunted momentarily. She lay there, dazed, for a moment.
“Let's take her with us,” Sowicky pleaded with Hansford, who seemed to be in charge. “We'll trade the boy and keep the enchanter for ourselves. No one else needs to know.”
Becka looked at Sowicky, then at Linda, frowning.
Hansford shook his head. “No. I don't deal in enchanters anymore. Before you know it, she'll have us cutting each other's throats. We'll have our hands full as it is. Let's get out of here before she starts in again.”
Both men were looking edgy, as if they might lose control at any moment. “Let's go,” Jack said urgently, hoping to get them out of there before they changed their minds about Linda.
“I'm glad you've decided to be reasonable,” Hansford muttered, shoving him toward the front doors.
At least until I get into the parking lot, Jack thought. The idea of being auctioned off to the Roses made him shudder. I'll make them kill me fast, he swore silently.
When they came through the doors to the outside, the heat and light of the summer day hit Jack like a physical blow, disorienting him for a moment. Someone shouted, “Down, Jack!”