The Serpent's Curse by Lisa Maxwell (read an ebook week .TXT) 📕

At first no one moved or spoke. The group kept staring at the now-silent receiver, and then they began exchanging uneasy looks with one another.

“I know that they blamed the old magic for attacks like this before, but I’ve sure never heard of any Mageus with an affinity like that,” one of the men said, finally breaking the silence.

“Because it wasn’t Mageus,” Esta told him. She looked to North. “It was a setup. And it worked. Coolidge should’ve been nominated tonight, but now…” She didn’t finish. She didn’t need to.

North launched into action. “The shipment I was telling you about is in the back,” he told Dom. “We’re going to be leaving town tonight. I’ll give you whatever you want for a good price, if you help me get it off my hands.”

Dom’s eyes lit. “Mind if I take a look now, seeing as I’m here and all?”

“Be my guest,” North said.

“You’re leaving?” Esta asked once Dom had disappeared to find the promised crates of Nitewein.

“As soon as we can pack everything up and Dom hands over enough cash for me to pay the guys I hired for the job,” he told her.

“You can’t run from this,” Harte said, stepping forward with fury in his eyes. “We told you what was going to happen.”

Which was exactly why he was leaving. “I have my boy to consider,” North said, refusing to feel even the smallest bit of guilt. “I’m not going to stay here and let him die.”

“So that’s it? You’re not going to help us?” Harte asked, stepping even closer, as though he wanted to go toe-to-toe.

North lifted his chin. “I’m going to protect what’s mine for as long as I can.”

“I don’t blame you,” Esta told him, placing a hand on Harte’s arm. She cut a warning look at him, before turning her attention back to North. “But I wish you’d reconsider. We could use the help.”

North shook his head. “Not this time.”

“The tower could go off as early as tomorrow night,” Harte pressed. “You’d walk away from that, knowing how many people will be hurt?”

“If it meant my family was safe?” North glanced at Everett, the boy with his eyes and Maggie’s heart. The boy who had made them a family. “I most certainly would.”

“Safe.” Esta gave him a sad shake of her head. “You say that like it’s possible for people like us to be safe.”

“For the last fifteen years or so, safe is exactly what I’ve been,” North told her.

“Have you?” Her tone was unreadable.

“I have my ranch, my family,” he told her. “I don’t need this mess you’re stirring up.”

“We’re not the ones doing the stirring,” Harte told him.

“Mark my words,” Esta added. “If that tower goes off, it won’t only be Mageus in Chicago who will be harmed. When Jack Grew becomes president—when, not if—nothing is going to stop him from making life for those with the old magic worse than it’s ever been. Even Mageus like you, who think they can run off to safety. They’re going to build more towers. Eventually, they’re going to come for your family, too.”

“Eventually isn’t today.” North understood what was at stake. He wasn’t an idiot, was he? Hadn’t he lived through more deeds and fought long and hard for the promise of a future for his children and their children’s children? But that future was still a ways off, and Everett was right here, real and whole. He couldn’t set the boy’s life aside for some distant possibility.

“We didn’t stop the attack, but we can still stop Jack and the terrible future he’s planning,” Esta told him. “We can stop ‘eventually’ from ever arriving if we destroy that tower. Tonight. Before he sets it off. We can save the Mageus in the city and those who have no idea what’s coming. Help us destroy the tower, and we can save your family.”

“You can’t destroy the tower tonight,” Everett argued. “An attack like that wouldn’t help your cause at all. You’d just be giving the Brotherhoods another reason to rally everyone against the old magic.”

“Leave it be, Everett. This is none of our business,” North told his son.

“The kid has a point,” Harte said to Esta.

“No,” North told them, stepping between his son and the other two. “He doesn’t. He’s not getting involved. Get your stuff,” he told Everett, who had the weapon he’d brought back with him from the market on his lap. He was already starting to take it apart. “We’re leaving as soon as we’re packed.”

Everett set the metal body of the flamethrower aside. “You can go if you want, but I’m not ready just yet.”

Looking at his son, the boy’s face a portrait of stubborn determination, North was struck immediately by how young Everett still was. It didn’t matter that North himself had been even younger when his own father had died or that he’d been about Everett’s age when he’d been jumping from place to place, getting into all sorts of trouble.

“I didn’t ask if you were ready,” North said.

“But I can help,” Everett insisted. “I understand machines. I’ve studied everything I could about the California towers—at least in theory.” Everett turned to Esta and Harte. “I can help,” he repeated.

“Maybe you can,” North told his son, “but you’re not going to.”

Everett frowned at him, and North saw the flicker of temper flash in his boy’s eyes. That little show of backbone was what he’d wanted from his son all along, but North found himself now wishing he’d never started down this path.

“Son—”

But Everett stepped around North, ignoring the warning he’d infused in that single word, and spoke directly to Esta. “If you’re going to go after that tower, you need to be smart about it,” Everett said. “It’s not enough to destroy it tonight. That would be another attack, and another reason for the Brotherhoods to retaliate. They might even be able to repair the tower in time to set it off like they’re planning to, and you wouldn’t have