Dangerous Thoughts

Chapter 26

Lillian thrashed against the men who held her, screaming and kicking and biting. There was blood staining her bodice, but she didn't appear hurt—only enraged. It was only when another cultist went behind her and grabbed her hair that she was able to be subdued, and even then she didn't stop gnashing her teeth.

"Sir," said one of the men who was struggling to hold her, "she killed Benjamin. Came out of the air and slit his throat faster than we could react."

Benjamin Hughes, Charles thought, realizing whose blood that was.

Monroe didn't seem to care that one of his colleagues had been murdered. He just eyed Lillian thoughtfully while she glared at him with cold fury. Suddenly he turned to the last few cultists in the room who weren't currently occupied. "You four. That mage child is still on the loose. Get her. I don't want her escaping."

The cultists nodded and ran out. Once they were gone, Monroe gestured with his hand. "Bring the thief to me."

"No!" Charles shouted. He tried to rush towards her, but one of the cultists holding onto him dug his fingers into Charles' upper arm with such strength that he could only cry out in pain. Unable to move, he watched helplessly as Lillian was dragged up onto the raised platform. When she was in front of Monroe, one of the men kicked the back of her shin, causing her to stumble and slam down onto her knees.

"YOU FUCKING MONSTER!" Lillian screamed. "YOU CHILD MURDERER. YOU PIECE OF HIGH-BORN SHIT—"

Monroe cut her off by waggling his fingers. Suddenly, a clump of dirt rose from the ground and flew into Lillian's mouth, cutting off her shouts. Her eyes widened, and she attempted to cough it out, but Monroe held out his hand, forcing the dirt to stay in place with his power.

"Don't try to spit it out," he said kindly. "I can make that dirt go plenty of other places you wouldn't like. Keep your mouth shut."

Lillian glared at him, pure hatred in her eyes, but didn't make another move to spit out the dirt.

"Now," Monroe said, looking back at Charles, "I was being generous before. I offered you a rather nice deal, but I can see that you're a stubborn man, Charles. You have a certain set of ideals. I still think you would do well to join our organization, but I understand you need to be persuaded. So let me try again." He reached into his cloak and pulled out a knife, the very same knife that Charles had seen in the memories and had slit at least two children's throats. "Agree to keep your mouth shut, or your thief friend dies." He appraised Lillian who, despite being silent, was still thrashing wildly against her three captors. "She's a mage, is she not? Shame that she's not a child. We won't be able to extract her magick." He spoke plainly, as if he were giving a lecture on science as opposed to discussing the murder of a human being. "As one ages, magick digs in deep, like a pesky weed with a messy tangle of roots. So killing her would be a complete waste... but it'd be all your fault." He let the words hang in the air as a deadly warning.

Charles struggled to reach for the emergency potions in his pockets, but the cultists held onto his arms, restricting his movements. He saw Lillian's eyes, wild with fright, and finally cried out, "Fine! I'll keep my mouth shut. I swear. Just let her go."

But Monroe didn't signal for the cultists to free her. He only narrowed his eyes. "You swear?" he repeated. "Oaths are powerful things. Would you swear on your life? On your brother's life? Speaking of your brother..." Monroe reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small bottle of green sludge. Charles recognized the potion immediately. "It's been very convenient to have a future son-in-law with an expert potion-maker for a brother. I've bought so many of James' potions over the past year, but this one has always been my favorite. Helps me sort out the liars and keeps quite well in my icebox." He grinned, shaking the vial as he walked towards him. "Ready to open your mouth and prove your loyalty, Charles?"