Untamed Fate (Magic Side: Wolf Bound Book 2)
Page 3
muffled voices chattered and shouted around me like the echoes of ghosts.
I searched for any sign of the monsters who were after me—the rogue
wolves, the demons, and the faceless man. Nothing moved, but I could feel
that they were out there, hunting, drawing close.
Something tugged on my chest. An invisible thread. Instinct called to me.
Find Jaxson.
I ran through the tents into the great empty expanse of the Midway. The
floating Ferris wheel towered over the fair, the only landmark I knew. I ran
toward it, searching, following the string pulling on my breast.
Something moved in the corner of my vision. I stopped and turned,
recognizing him in an instant.
Jaxson.
Waves of desire and heat coursed through my body.
His claws were out, and his eyes shone radiant gold. A sheen of sweat
covered his bare chest and powerful arms, and the signature of his magic
overwhelmed my senses. The scent of moss and deep forests. The taste of
smoke and fresh snow.
With a sudden movement, he vanished behind the corner of a tent.
My feet pounded over the matted grass as I raced to catch up. “Jaxson!”
I slipped between the tents and looked both ways. For just a second, I saw
him down the line, and then he disappeared around another corner. With a
shout, I pursued, pulled onward by that invisible thread.
I swung into the gap where he had turned and skidded to a halt.
Something wasn’t right. The dream had changed. The shadows were all
wrong. They pointed at impossible angles, as if they were drawn to the
flickering lights overhead. The hair on my neck stood on end as my muscles
tightened, and my palms grew damp.
A dark shape slid across the white canvas. The shadow of a man. Not
Jaxson.
I spun.
A thin figure stood before me, radiating malevolence. His face was an
inky smudge, a greasy blur that vibrated as he slowly turned his head.
The blood sorcerer. Ulan Kahanov, the faceless man.
We stared each other down alone between the long line of white
exhibition tents. He tilted his head in an unnatural way, and my stomach
turned. “Why, hello, Savannah. Imagine finding you here, all alone.
Abandoned by Jaxson again?”
My heart strained, and a feral voice snarled in my head, Wake up!
The faceless man stepped forward. I tried to run, but my muscles were
taut, and I couldn’t move.
“I’m dreaming. You’re not here,” I hissed and dug my fingernails into my
palm. Pain shot across my skin, but I didn’t wake up.
“Yes, you’re dreaming, but that doesn’t mean much if I can still reach out
and touch you.” He brushed my face, and a sickening shudder worked its way
through my nearly paralyzed body.
A gust of wind ripped between the lines of tents, and the canvas shook.
On the horizon, the floating Ferris wheel collapsed and slammed into the
ground, sending flames exploding into the sky.
Then it began to slowly tilt and roll toward me.
The sorcerer gripped my jaw with his hand, tearing my attention back to
him. “You will come with me!”
Wake up! the voice in my mind howled.
I bolted upright with a jolt, heart pounding. I’d torn off the covers, and
sweat drenched my bare skin. My aching palms were covered in blood. I
swung my legs out of bed, staggered to the bathroom, and flicked on the
lights. Running the tap, I watched as water and bright red blood spiraled
together down the drain. My palms stung beneath the flow, and I bit my lip.
I’d really dug my nails in. I didn’t think they’d grown that long.
Once my hands were clean and the blood had slowed, I splashed water
over my face and neck. It was cool and refreshing, like the icy trickle of my
own magic. Breathing deeply in and out through my nose to calm my nerves,
I grabbed the hand towel and dried my face.
When I looked up, the girl in the mirror had bright yellow eyes.
I blinked.
Pure blue. It had been an illusion, just like in the bathroom at the rink.
Was it any wonder I was seeing things with werewolves hounding me day
and night?
I rested my palms on the porcelain and fixed the naked girl in the mirror
with a hard stare. “Get a grip, Savy. It was just a dream.”
But I could still feel the sorcerer’s clammy touch on my skin, and a
shudder quaked through me.
You’re in Aunt Laurel’s house. You’re safe.
With fear and frustration burning the back of my neck, I plopped down on
the bed and ground my teeth. “I’m hiding from a psychopath in my aunt’s
house and relying on a jerk to solve my problems.”
What a terrible plan.
I wasn’t an idiot. In my heart, I knew I wasn’t a match for Kahanov. I
needed the protection of both Jaxson and my powerful, but likely insane,
aunt.
But I believed the fortune teller’s words, even if they only existed in my
dreams. I couldn’t outrun my fate. Something was coming—I could feel it in
my bones.
It was like a giant storm looming on the horizon. And I was woefully
unprepared.
The dream was a warning. I needed to discover what Kahanov was up to,
and I needed to master my magic so that I didn’t need Jaxson or my aunt or
anyone to protect me.
And figure out who I truly was, whatever the fortune teller had meant by
that. Piece of cake, right?
Maybe tomorrow I would get some answers.
I reached out with my hand and focused my will on the shadows in the
room. The icy sensations of my magic trickled over my skin, and slowly, the
shadows began to dance and move.
My cousin could control fire, and I’d met all sorts of magical people with
wonderful powers in my short time in Magic Side. For whatever reason, my
magic was as cold as death, looked like smoke, and had the power to control
darkness.
I sucked in a deep breath. “I really, really hope I’m not evil.”
I pulled the shadows around me like a cloak, then let them swallow the
room. If only I could make it all go away—the faceless man, the constant
nightmares, and the relentless fear lurking in my head.
All that, and Jaxson Laurent.
4
Savannah
Five hours later, I staggered down the stairs in a desperate search for
coffee.
Casey was sitting at the table eating a bowl of Fruit Brute, which featured
a howling werewolf on the front. I was certain it had been out of production
for years, yet he’d bought it from God-knows-where just to troll me every
morning.
“Do you know anyone who makes sleep potions?” I groaned as I poured
myself a piping hot mug of black gold from the pot.
I would have asked Uncle Pete, but he was out of town. Not that I wanted
to drink one of his foul concoctions.
Casey nodded and mumbled through a mouth of cereal, “Yeah, they can
knock you out for days.”
“No, I mean, if you drink it, it’s like you’ve actually slept, because I need
to pound a couple of those.”
“Another rough night?” my aunt asked as she whisked into the roo
m.
Casey met my eyes.
I hadn’t wanted to face the music quite so early, but I knew I couldn’t
outrun this. My mind still echoed with the fortune teller’s warning, and I
could almost feel the sorcerer’s nails digging into my chin.
I sighed and poured myself a bowl of cereal as I filled my aunt in on what
Jaxson had told me.
When I was done, she pursed her lips and put a kettle on the range. “I find
it strange that Ulan Kahanov was the one hunting you.”
“Why?”
My aunt tossed her long silver hair over her shoulder. “I knew of him. He
was a creepy bastard, for certain. But from the little you’ve told me, this
doesn’t seem like his style. He was a loner known for experimenting on his
victims with blood magic, but only one at a time. He worked with demons,
but never anything coordinated like the attacks so far. Nothing so dramatic.”
“Prison apparently changed him.” I twirled my spoon reticently around
the bowl. Fruit Brute was awful, but the sooner the box was empty and out of
the house, the better.
Casey slurped a spoonful of bright pink milk from the bowl. “Maybe the
rogue wolf that Jaxson put down was the one actually pulling the strings.
That could be good news for you. He’s dead.”
I hadn’t told my family that that rogue wolf was Billy, Jaxson’s brother-
in-law, or that I’d been the one to kill him. Instead, I’d helped the pack sweep
everything under the rug. Now, I wasn’t sure whether that had been the right
choice.
My aunt nodded thoughtfully. “That could be. Our family didn’t have any
serious interactions with Kahanov that would warrant a target on your back.
He was just another monster, brought down by the Order. However, half the
packs in the Great Lakes hate us for manufacturing wolfsbane. Maybe they
caught him after he escaped from prison and tried to use him to get
vengeance.”
I shrugged. Billy had planned on murdering our whole family, but I knew
for certain who was pulling the strings—Kahanov, the faceless man…who
might not be so faceless in my nightmares if I asked the Order for a photo.
I put my head in my hands and rubbed my temples. “I’m just exhausted
from being hunted. I can’t have a night out without being followed by a pack
of werewolf bodyguards, and I can’t stop worrying that some deranged blood
sorcerer is going to send demons after me.”
My aunt nodded. “I completely understand.”
Then she left.
I shook my head and went back to my bowl of cereal. The LaSalles were
a strange bunch.
Moments later, my aunt returned and slapped a thin leather album in front
of me. Lifting an inquisitive brow, I carefully opened it. Inside were faded
newspaper clippings and photos. The first headline read, Local LaSalle Girl
Slays Rampaging Ogre! There was a picture of a girl, not more than fifteen,
standing by the smoking corpse of a monster.
I flipped the page. Malign Magic Mingles as Malicious Mage Meets His
Match! The faded color photo showed a red-haired girl on the steps of some
public building. My aunt.
She leaned in and spoke softly. “That was Edwin North, a particularly
heinous criminal and a pervert. He messed with the wrong girl.”
My mind whirled. An album of monsters and villains she’d overcome. Or
to think of it another way, people she had murdered.
What was my death toll now?
“Savannah, you have power—deep, untapped resources of magic. I can
feel it vibrating around you. It’s a gift, but it means you will be hunted and
challenged all your life. Get used to it. You have to face down your fears and
not let them get in the way of the magic around you.” My aunt touched my
hand and smiled when I looked up. “I don’t keep this book because I’m
proud, or because I need trophies. I keep it because sometimes I’m scared.
For myself, for my husband, for my son, and now, for you, too. It reminds me
that the gods gave me the talent to protect myself and the strength to
overcome anything. You have that strength. I know it.”
I swallowed and nodded as I turned the page.
A fierce, bearded face looked back at me with dark, half-mad eyes. The
headline above the little black-and-white photograph read, Victor Dragan
Dead at Last. Laurents and LaSalles Overcome the Dark Cloud Hanging
Over Magic Side.
My aunt tensed. “Dragan was the worst. Absolutely deranged. And I
disintegrated him at the end.”
I scanned the article. “You worked with the Laurents—the werewolves. I
thought you hated each other.”
“Dragan was a demented aberration—half sorcerer, half werewolf, driven
mad by a dark split in his soul. The pack came to us for help. We thought it
could be a new beginning, but Alistair Laurent, Jaxson’s father, betrayed us
not long after we brought Dragan down. A treachery so deep that it still cuts
my bones.”
With a sharp motion, she turned me to face her, eyes blazing with
unbridled fury. “Never trust a wolf. When it comes down to it, they will
always choose pack over justice, pack over truth, pack over anyone else—and
that includes you.” Her shoulders dropped as she gave a heavy sigh. “That,
more than anything, is why I don’t like you working with Jaxson. He may be
helping you now, but one day, he will have to make a choice, and you’ll be
on the losing end. I guarantee it.”
My gut twisted. Some part of my soul knew it was true.
“You can only ever rely on yourself, Savannah. That’s why you need to
master your power.”
I’d been practicing sorcery with Aunt Laurel every day, but I couldn’t
manage too much yet. So far, I’d found that I could release bursts of power,
control shadows, and snuff candles. It seemed so small compared to the blood
sorcerer, compared to what Casey and my aunt could do…but it was more
than I’d ever imagined two weeks ago.
I looked down at my right hand and drew in a little of my power. It
appeared as dark wisps of shadow that trickled over my skin and stung like
ice water. “I’m not even really sure I understand what my magic is.”
“You need to know who you are to understand what your magic is, and
what your magic is to understand who you are. Right now, you’re searching
for both. That’s why we’re going to accelerate your training.”
The last time my aunt had wanted to accelerate my training, she’d tried
sucking my magic out with a doohickey that, if dialed up to full strength,
could consume half of Magic Side.
I stirred my cereal nervously. “Please tell me that this doesn’t involve the
Sphere of Devouring again.”
“No, don’t worry. We’re only going to be summoning a few demons.”
My spoon froze halfway to my mouth, and bits of fruity cereal slowly
dribbled off into the bowl. Why did my long-lost family have to be insane?
5
Savannah
Half an hour later, and after much protesting, I found myself in my aunt’s
“workshop,” a massive candlelit room in the bottom of an old, elaborate red
stone
building. The floor was inscribed with dozens of interlinked magical
circles, rings of arcane runes.
I slowly stepped across the black stonework, deliberately avoiding the
magical sigils. I had no idea if anything would happen if I stepped on them,
but I wasn’t about to experiment.
“These look similar to the ring that contains the Sphere of Devouring,” I
said uneasily, then met my aunt’s eyes with an accusatory stare. “As well as
the circles of blood the sorcerer used to summon blood demons.”
Aunt Laurel swept effortlessly across the floor to the center of the room,
her silver hair trailing behind her. “Circles are powerful tools for containing
and controlling magic. Some of these are for focus, others for protection, and
some for summoning demons and other spirits.”
My stomach churned, and it felt like something was trying to push its way
out of my chest. Probably the massive boatload of doubts I had about this
particular venture. We needed to talk about this before things got out of hand.
I steeled my nerve. She was my aunt, but also as intimidating as a dragon.
“Aunt Laurel, I don’t want to be rude—you’ve been so kind and opened
new worlds to me—but we need to have a frank discussion. I have some sort
of twisted shadow magic, and you’re about to summon demons. These both
seem…”
She raised an eyebrow. “Diabolical? Evil? Sinister? Like witchcraft?”
I gave an apologetic shrug. “Pretty much.”
She strode over and grabbed my shoulders. “Savannah, these are labels
that people use to try to take your power. Don’t ever let anyone take your
power or make you doubt yourself. Magic is a tool. It can be used for good or
bad.”
“But summoning demons? That seems, like, always bad.”
“Gun violence is a plague in Chicago. You’re a good shot. Does that
make you evil?”
I grimaced. “I hope not. I just worry…” I held up my hands and
summoned my magic. Dark, smoky shadows twisted around my fingers.
“Would you rather make leaves grow and flowers bloom?”
I looked at the inky darkness drifting from my hand. “Maybe? Could I do
that?”
She shook her head. “I know a young woman, like you, who had power
over plants. She nearly brought a blight on the whole world. There are two
sides to every coin.”
I let the magic dissipate.