Cursed To Death

The ire in Sir Rodney’s voice clipped his tone as he began walking forward again. “I need to speak with the three clan leaders, and will accommodate them equally once we’re done… but we must develop a strategy for the morrow.”

No one protested about being shut out of the leadership meeting. Hell, if she could have gone straight to her room and fallen across goose down with a steak on the way and a little bit of Faery dust sprinkled over her to take away the battle aches that she was starting to feel, yeah, she would have preferred that option. Apparently both clan male alphas felt the same way. She noted that Hunter and Shogun seemed relieved that their men were being cared for and didn’t begrudge them a break in the action. She just wished that she could have gotten the rest of the team behind the walls of Forte Sha

The group split up at the huge marble staircase that spilled down into the grand foyer. Betas were headed up to private rooms with attentive staff while she, Hunter, and Shogun followed Sir Rodney past live coats of armor, expressionless palace guards, and strange three-dimensional portraits and tapestries that looked as though you could fall right into them.

Two exquisitely chiseled guards opened the doors to a large anteroom when Sir Rodney stopped before it. He didn’t turn around, didn’t explain, just kept walking and assumed they’d follow him.

Two-story cathedral windows covered in stained glass greeted them. The meadow scenes they contained were so serene and bucolic that it nearly drew her to touch them. Sir Rodney’s footfalls echoed across the wide stone floor and Sasha peered up at the vaulted ceiling that seemed to go on forever.

Flags hung from the rafters and wall torches spit and smoldered as they passed. In the center of the room was a huge, round wooden table with strange markings on it, and standing in a row with tablets poised were bald-headed little Gnomes in monastic brown and forest-green velvet robes. Some had wiry tufts of hair in spots. Others had what she could only liken to age spots on their heads. There were five in all.

Each one wrinkled his little hooked nose when studying them and the tips of their long, pointed ears turned ever so slightly as though tuning in to something invisible the way one would expect that a giant TV ante

“Please, have a seat,” Sir Rodney said, as they approached the table. “The last time you were here, you never sat… never neared the round table… This meeting should be different.”

Not accustomed to chivalry at this level, she was slightly surprised when Sir Rodney didn’t move, but her chair came away from the table on its own. It wasn’t until she was seated that the other chairs deemed it was appropriate for them to slide away.

“This was left over from the days of old,” Sir Rodney said with a smile, looking at Sasha. “I wouldn’t have been surprised if Merlin charmed it this way himself.”

His smile was infectious and she couldn’t help the one he brought out on her face. The fact that Hunter and Shogun were slightly bristled but also contrite quietly amused her.

“You weren’t properly introduced before. These gentlemen are my top advisors,” Sir Rodney a

Sasha dug in her pocket as the dire-looking advisors gathered around, inserting themselves between each seated person so they could get a better view.

After a moment, what appeared to be the eldest advisor spoke, pointing at each set of symbols. “These are different than the ones found on the young ladies’ bodies, milord. These be progressive spells, milord. Look at the three moons on each and how they ascend to the top of the sigil… how they gradually become fuller. Thus the magick darkens each night, becomes stronger and harder to cure. If it is not broken before the last night, there will be no cure.”

“This is why we need those who be not Fae,” another, gaunter advisor said, glancing around the table and pointing a bony finger at Sasha, Hunter, and Shogun. “The cure is one we ca

“Cold steel must cross the magick ring that holds each sigil,” the lead advisor said. “St. John’s wort with witchwood-the rowan, and enclosed with bundled bay leaf. That would break the spells set upon this castle and the places Ethan McGregor’s people be.”

“I don’t understand,” Sasha said, looking around. “How can we carry something to a place when we don’t even know where it is?”

The eldest advisor rubbed his chin and smiled a snaggletoothed grin. “Ah! To put a spell on a place as large as this fort, one must have the power of three.” He walked around the table and produced a small wand from inside his sleeve and doodled glittering gold spirals in the air as he spoke. “For a time-sensitive, progressive spell, one that relies on the sigils knowing when the light has cast and passed into moonbeams, it must be able to be exposed to the passage of time.” He spun around and clapped his hands. “It will be in the uppermost floors, hidden in the eaves, not in the basement where daylight never passes. The first death happened in the cellar as a ruse or mayhap to stop a young woman from telling the king all that she knew-something that would incriminate the spell-caster. But the source… aye, lassie, is in the eaves!”

“The power of three locations,” a third, thick-bodied advisor said, furrowing his already deeply wrinkled brow. “Dugan’s Bed & Breakfast… Fi

“Once the property changed hands, it became Ethan’s… Thus all who slept there as his family,” the lead advisor said, pointing his wand at Sasha, “helped the spell along.”

“All who ate there,” another said, “helped the spell along.”

“And they put a progressive agency into it,” the leader said. “That is what has hurt the Seelie Fae.”

“Aye,” the thin advisor muttered. “There are too many of us to do individual sigils for, but they went after the house of Sir Rodney.”

“But what about what my grandfather and I saw,” Hunter said, folding his arms over his chest. “We saw opaque spirit selves get up from the bodies of each of us, wearing symbols on each. It went after the wolf leadership and Sasha’s familiars, even her father, as well as my lieutenants.”

“Doppelganger attachments!” the leader said, looking around the room. “Insidious magick, the worst of its kind!” He walked away from the table and thrust his wand up his sleeve.

The four other advisors shook their heads as though Hunter had just said he had inoperable cancer.

“whatever it is, these are the symbols that Hunter’s grandfather saw,” Sasha said as calmly as possibly, letting them see the stored cell phone pics again.

“Well, man, tell us, is it possible to get this attack off our allies?” Sir Rodney said, standing and begi

“First things first,” the lead advisor said slowly. “They are wolves. They can track. If they go back to the three establishments and go to the top floors-the attic, the eaves, somewhere remote that isn’t used-where no one who wasn’t looking for something would go… they will be able to cancel the spell against the castle… which will remove the deleterious effects on all Seelie Fae that hail from Forte Sha