by Patti Larsen
Piers followed my lead, his sorcery held in a tight net around him. I released the last of Ahbi's cocoon, no longer needing it, though the air in this part of the palace felt chilly, giving me the impression this wing didn't see much use.
“You know,” Piers said, amusement in his voice despite our situation, “we seem to make an excellent team.”
I snorted. “You mean, you do a good job of getting into trouble and I do a good job rescuing you.”
His magic prodded me. “If you like. But I think you're underestimating me, Coven Leader.”
We'd just see about that.
I felt the push of sorcery coming toward me, too late. Two skinny men flanked by a pair of hulking weres with guns burst around the corner ahead of us. The lead one pointed, shouted in Ukrainian while the guns blazed. My shields held while Piers dove to the ground, his magic seeping across the floor and under their feet. Shock rippled over the four faces as the floor beneath them almost immediately gave way, Shaylee adding a little extra zing to Piers’s attack. Machine gun fire rattled into the ceiling as they disappeared through a large sinkhole and out of sight.
Kind of comical, actually. Like watching a cartoon.
Piers sprang to his feet and ran lightly forward, his long coat belling out behind him like a cloak. I followed, accepting his hand as he leaped across the gap, pulling me over with him. One look down and my vertigo kicked in, flickers of falling the endless drop from the top of the Seat on Demonicon to the Parade below. Made worse by the sight of the four bodies sprawled in what looked like some kind of dimly lit cellar.
Nothing funny about their twisted bodies after all, the scent of blood rising to tingle my sensitive vampire nose.
I wavered on the other side of the hole Piers had made, stomach rolling, caught in the flashback of my plummet to near death. Piers grasped me around the waist and tucked me against him, lips against my ear before he leaned back. His nose brushed mine, we were so close, his smile wicked as I panted into his mouth.
“You were saying about doing the rescuing?” Piers let me go, but took my hand again as the last tingle of my fear vanished at his touch. The linking of our fingers felt way too natural for a girl with a boyfriend who wasn't the one holding her hand.
I tried to pull Piers toward the black zone when we reached the end of the hall, but he fought me, shaking his head.
“None of this will matter if the Czar escapes.” His handsome face pleaded with me, free hand rising to stroke my cheek. “His people will back off if he falls.” Another stroke. “Please.”
Sigh.
It was absolutely the wrong decision to make and pretty much guaranteed to start a war, but I agreed with his choice, damn it.
Charlotte would have to wait.
The fact I'd just committed myself to a fight I really should have run from screaming wasn't lost on me. Especially when someone cut through my shields in a surge of familiar power and blasted me one as a reminder.
What the hell do you think you're doing? Mom's anger was so powerful I flinched and pulled free of Piers in a reflex guilt action. He stopped, turned to frown at me, froze as I made a “we're screwed” face and tucked up against a wall to take my punishment. I said quietly. Didn't I say quietly, Syd?
Hey, Mom. Yeah, like the whole innocent routine was going to do me any good. I didn't have much choice.
Mom's sigh echoed across the distance. Why is it you never seem to have any other option than total mayhem? Her laughter came out breathless. Well, whatever it is you have planned, you'd better hurry up, my darling daughter. Margaret was just here, and she's screaming bloody murder.
You let her go? I tsked, amazed how well she was taking this and how much humor rippled through the connection between us as her initial jolt of alarm wore off. Mom, you're slipping.
I have no idea why I was struggling to keep a straight face and attitude all of a sudden, but Mom giggled, near hysterical herself.
You should have seen her, she sent. All red faced and foaming at the mouth. Spectacular.
You’re one to talk, I sent back with a snicker. You’re forgetting your own little meltdowns were a sight to behold. It shouldn’t have been funny. Mom almost lost herself to the Brotherhood completely.
And yet, here we were, laughing ourselves into tears of hilarity.
Hysterics. Had to be. But the laughter helped to shake off my nerves and charge up my focus.
Hers too, I guess. She cleared her mental throat after a moment of snorting. Syd, I'm serious.
Me too. I gave Piers a push and got moving again. Charlotte wouldn't leave, the young Steam Union idiot I'm saddled with bit off more than he could chew and the weres are now captured. You wanted me to leave them?
I thought we agreed the werewolves weren’t our problem. She sighed. Laughed again. I should have known our agreement wouldn’t last, not when there are innocent lives at stake. She hugged me tight with her magic. Sweetheart, you know I'm behind you, no matter what happens. Mom's power finally released me. Just be careful.
Piers glanced back at me as I severed the connection.
“Let me guess,” he said with a grin. “You have a mother just like mine.”
He clearly knew that already. “Not quite,” I said. “Mine just gave me the go-ahead to dismantle the world order and to hell with the consequences.”
“Lucky,” he said.
“Am I ever.” My grin was tight with renewed tension and the need to act. “But we're about to have company who thinks to the contrary, so we'd better hurry.”
I hated not having access to my full magic, fought with the idea of breaking the last mandate Applegate set and just say screw it. But as long as I kept my witch magic—read maji power—under wraps while I was here, the worst she could do was boot my ass from Europe forever.
She'd have to catch me first.
***
Chapter Twenty Four
I should have seen it coming and probably would have if Shaylee hadn't been keeping a vibrations ear open behind us in case of pursuit. Besides, I was a little busy working out how I was going to free Charlotte and the werewolves while helping Piers bring down the Czar without backup and no maji power.
It was a lot to juggle and pay attention to where we were headed and who we might run into. I was counting on Piers to handle at least one of those jobs. Otherwise, why did I drag him along again?
Oh, wait. He dragged me along.
Right.
My vampire's hiss was all the warning I had as we rounded the next corner into an atrium of some kind, filled with doorways leading elsewhere. Some kind of wing hub to the rest of the palace was my guess.
Well, my peripheral mind guessed. The rest of me snapped into focus on the dozen werewolves and two sorcerers hovering in the middle of the grand space.
Oops. Good thing my shields were so strong. My sorcery gobbled the kinetic energy from the immediate flow of bullets, though the wards could do little to give me my hearing back as the machine gun fire echoed from the marble floor and glass dome overhead. Piers's magic slid outward, and the pool of black grew into an attack that had become old already. I wondered if he was a one-trick pony.
The first sorcerer cracked a whip, slicing across the back of one of the werewolves. The were howled in pain, the sound so loud I heard it over the gunfire. He dropped his weapon, writhing, hands pressed to his face as his body jerked and heaved. His transformation into wolf shape tore the clothes from his body, sending him to a low crouch. Half-shifted, face a distorted mix of canine and human, the wereguard lunged at us, long, sharp claws outstretched.
Disgust made my stomach clench as my vampire formed a fist of white power and slammed it into the approaching werewolf, sending him back into his friends. Likely with a few bullets in his back and a crushed sternum. And no, my disgust wasn't aimed at the were, but at his handler.
So this is why they hadn’t attacked us outside in wolf form. They were being controlled, their natural ability quashed and manipulated by th
e sorcerers who wrangled them. Still, it made no sense to hold them back when their shifting could hand over an advantage.
Unless.
The Brotherhood was involved. Which meant it was Liander Belaisle pulling the strings. Could he be trying to undermine Yure’s position in his sick and subtle way? Made sense. Especially considering the Brotherhood’s previous desire to absorb the Black Souls.
And the werewolves.
Oh. My. Swearword.
Belaisle wanted the weres to himself.
Another crack of the whip jarred me out of my thoughts as two more of the bulky guards shifted shape. Their handler sent them into the line of fire, too, a smirk on his nasty face. This time my demon roared in return, her own whips of amber flame lacing through the air, weaving together in a burning pattern we'd learned while fighting on Demonicon.
I couldn’t let the weres fall into Belaisle’s hands. They thought Yure and his people were cruel. But neither would I let them hurt me or stop me from achieving my goals.
Which meant fighting back.
The weres didn't stand a chance. And though I knew we'd win in the end against this group, the noise we made had to be summoning reinforcements. I didn't really feel like taking on the entire werewolf nation, thanks.
Piers grunted next to me, shuddered, panting. “He's countering me.”
The second sorcerer's own black pool pushed against Piers's magic.
“So try something else.” I didn't have time to talk him through battle strategy, in case he hadn't noticed. Damn it, this would be so much easier if I could just use my maji power. A few tweaks to my shields and a push of creation energy and this would be over.
No such luck.
One of the doors opened and three more werewolves burst through. Great, the cavalry started to arrive. But before I could focus some of my already divided attention on them, the one in the lead opened fire.
Not on us. On the two sorcerer handlers. The one with the whip spun on his attacker, snarling, lashing out with his sorcery. All three of the new weres fell to their knees, guns rattling to the ground, clutching their heads.
I had no idea if they were on our side or not, but I wasn't about to look a gift were in the mouth. My sorcery blocked the handler, slicing in between his magic and the three werewolves, slamming him back away from them. The sorcerer staggered, falling back into his partner, snapping the other man’s attention.
Piers’s grunt of success came the same moment the first attacking werewolf shook his head, staggering to his feet, gun retrieved and raised. Before I could stop him, the hulking shifter rattled off a stream of bullets. I could only guess the sorcerer’s shields were weakened from the fight with Piers and I, made worse by my companion’s power now rippling under them and drawing on their magic. The two fell with screams of pain, blood bursting from the bullet shots that ripped through their wards, sending them to crash to the shattered marble tiles.
I watched, wincing in sympathy despite the circumstances, as the gathered werewolves turned and stared down at their former masters. Our rescuer strode across the floor, feet ringing on the stone in the sudden silence, standing over the two, gun muzzle inches from their faces.
“At last,” he said. And pulled the trigger.
Gross. Just. Gross. I knew they had every right to want to kill the sorcerers who held them in thrall for so long, but it didn't mean I had to like the sight of blood and bits of brain matter splattered all over the floor.
Piers turned toward me, body curving around mine. Probably to protect me. Sigh. When would the guys in my life understand I didn't need protecting?
I pushed him away and approached the now silent werewolves, doing my best not to look down, though I slipped once on something I hoped wasn't part of someone.
Did I say gross?
Before I could speak a word, our rescuer bowed to me. “I am Maksym Rusak,” he said. “My Isa told me you were our only hope.”
I looked up into his burning green eyes and wavy brown hair, wide jaw and broad shoulders and understood Isabelle's attraction, at least. Not to mention the fact werewolves had a certain animal magnetism—
Syd. Syd. Sheesh.
“Thanks for the timely intervention.” I sidestepped the edge of one of the sorcerer's robes to shake Maksym's hand.
He didn't release me, gripping my fingers tight, hope in his face. “She said you could free us.”
Mutters from the others, the steady presence of Piers behind me as Shaylee spoke up.
I think it's time we talked to Galleytrot, she sent.
Now? She had to be out of it.
If we can free them completely, she sent, that's a few more allies and a few less enemies. And I have a feeling we'll be needing some help in the next little while.
Agreed, my vampire sent.
Need I remind you lot we're in the middle of a danger zone and, the amount of noise our little playmates here just made, I gestured at the werewolves who looked around at each other like I was crazy, we're not likely to be alone much longer. Not to mention the fact Applegate could crash this little party any second now.
All the more reason to stop gabbing and get to it. My demon's growl was tinged with amusement. Why do you always argue with us when you know we'll get our way?
Argh.
Fine. I jabbed Shaylee. Prod the big dog and see what's up.
It meant opening my shields again, but the girls thought it was worth it and, from the expectant frown on Maksym's face, this had better work or the allies we thought we'd gained could turn on us at any second.
Syd. Galleytrot's rumbling voice reached me, the faint scent of spring and fresh rain carried with him. Are you all right?
Not exactly, I sent. Shocker, right?
His deep chuckle answered like the sound of thunder.
But that can wait. I need your help. About thirty seconds of explaining later and he had the gist.
Yes, he sent. I sensed there was more to the bond I severed than just to the Dumonts. But I didn't have time at that point to explore further.
Think you can work your black hound magic with these guys? I tried a little smile and nod for Maksym as he stared at me, his friends growing more restless. “Just give me a second,” I said out loud.
Let me feel them. The sound of sniffing accompanied my exploration, through Sidhe earth magic, of the bond inside the werewolves. It was as faint as the one I'd shared with Charlotte, hard to find. But beneath it, darkness eddied, the sorcery that created them holding them captive.
I can handle the bond that keeps them tied to individuals, Galleytrot sent. But you will have to sever the one to their sorcerer creators.
I'll follow your lead. I felt him swell inside me, linked with Shaylee as I nodded to Maksym.
“Hold still,” I said. Unnecessary, really. But I wanted them to have some kind of warning. Especially considering I had no idea what cutting them off would do to them.
Maksym nodded once, abruptly, the line of werewolves bracing themselves as if expecting a lot of pain.
I hoped they'd be pleasantly surprised.
***
Chapter Twenty Five
Galleytrot went first, his earth power tied to the chaos of the Wild Hunt, the song of the end of the world humming around him. I watched him create cracks in the hold of the bonds between, breaking them apart with the soaring vibrations of the Wild's music.
They werewolves shuddered as a whole, Maksym's eyes widening, but I gestured for them to stay put.
“Phase one,” I said. “My turn.”
Galleytrot observed as I allowed my sorcery to explore the last bond, the one crushing the souls of the werewolves. I knew then if I couldn't break it, they would remain slaves to the Czar forever.
Damn it, I sent to the big hound as I saw the truth, how tightly they were held. No way could I free them with just sorcery, or any of my other magicks on their own for that matter. I need to use my creation power.
He grunted and sighed. I concur, he sent
after examining the remaining bond. This will have to wait. But you must shield them, to keep them safe, if you expect them to be of use to you when you confront their master.
Got it. Thanks, big guy. I hugged him mentally and he embraced me back, the thrum of earth power reminding me of Liam.
I'm watching over him, Galleytrot sent as though reading my thoughts. Be safe, Syd.
Our connection faded and I sagged a little as I refocused on Maksym.
“Okay,” I said. “Here's the deal. Your individual bonds are broken.” The werewolves nodded, most smiling. Not ready to turn on me yet. Wicked. “But,” I said, “there's a problem.”
Silence and grimness. Nice. But then again, they had to have trust issues after centuries of being used and abused, and I hardly blamed them.
“The sorcery that made you is keeping you hostage.” There was no way I could show them. “In order to break it, I need full access to my magic.”
“Then do so,” Maksym said. Ordered.
Hold on a freaking minute. I closed the gap between us, temper flaring, jabbing him in the chest with one finger. He was so startled by my reaction to his bossy pants attitude, he backed up a pace, eyes huge.
“Listen,” I said. “I'm doing my freaking best here, okay?” I glared around at the werewolves, seeing their distrust fade, replaced with guilty looks. “But I have other problems besides you all. So, here's the deal. You come with us, I protect you from the Czar. And when we kick his ass, I free you when I'm able to do so.”
Maksym hesitated, but I jabbed him again.
“My one and only offer,” I said. “Don't push it.”
My demon chuckled as the werewolf nodded.
I'm so proud, she sent.
Oh, shut it, I sent back.
