by Tara Lain
“Yeah, but if I can mix my magic metaphors, I pretty much dropped out of Hogwarts, so I guess she’s not.”
He said it all snarky and full of attitude, but Jazz saw the sadness and loss in his eyes. Jazz slipped his hand into Dash’s and laid his head on his shoulder.
“Nobody answered on your brother’s phone, Jazz,” Carla said. “I’ll try again in a minute.”
Jazz nodded and drifted against the rocking of the train. He wasn’t sure how many minutes passed, but they were gently pulling at him as they piled off the subway. Jazz stumbled, but Dash caught him and hauled him along. All the drugs and pain had added up. He could barely focus.
The sunlight against his lids dimmed, and he opened his eyes wider. Alley. They were in a smelly alley heading toward a dead end— Oh.
The wall opened and Fatima and Khadija pulled Carla inside, BeBop behind her, and Dash and Jazz at the rear.
The darkness settled on Jazz with blanket-like comfort. He could use a blanket right then. Slowly he opened his eyes and saw deep, dark caverns, and closer, a circle of beautiful women staring at him.
The most beautiful one, who had been with them, said, “We haven’t met. I am Fatima, and these are my sisters. How are you feeling?”
“Thank you so much for rescuing me.”
Dash wrapped his arm tighter around Jazz’s shoulders, and it felt strong and warm. “I’m sorry we didn’t get there sooner.”
“But you got there.” He took a breath.
Khadija spoke intensely to one of the women, who clearly wasn’t happy to see them. The other four women, all in head scarves, looked curious.
“Carla, did you get a hold of my brother?”
“Yes. I told him we had trouble and gave him an address about a block from here. Sadly, he and Damon and your grandfather were all in Connecticut, so riding to the rescue’s going to take a little time.”
Dash frowned. “They don’t know what they’re up against.”
A cloud of cold fear filled the caverns like smoke, palpable and nauseating.
The sisters looked around with wide eyes.
The soft, rough voice like suede on sandpaper echoed from the caverns in front of Jazz.
“That’s true, young mage, they don’t. And neither do you.”
THE RIVULET of ice tracking down Jazz’s back should have been tears. He’d let them rescue him, had been grateful for their courage. And he’d repay them all by leading them to their deaths.
The women instantly formed a circle, back-to-back, facing out, their beautiful eyes actually gleaming in the dim light. A couple of them held their hands to their head scarves.
“Save your energy, Drusans of Sarpedon,” Nardo’s voice said. “You might bewitch my poor fool wolves, but I’m immune to your charms. You can’t bespell the bespeller.” He laughed softly.
Movement beside him made Jazz glance toward Dash who was slowly moving forward, putting himself between their group and the direction Nardo’s voice came from.
Nardo’s voice snapped. “So a champion rises among you. You think you’re up to the challenge, boy?”
Dash’s voice didn’t even quaver. “I think I’m up to giving it a damned good shot.”
“The overconfidence of children. They say adolescents feel invincible—so they make stupid decisions. You’ve just made yours, boy.”
“Why don’t you come out from behind the curtain, Oz, so we can see how great and powerful you aren’t?” Dash taunted.
Man. Jazz realized how much Dash disguised his true voice. Now it sounded like wind through the trees and deep chiming bells.
The voice sighed. “I have no need to kill you, Dash. I owe Lysandra your life. Just give me the wolf and go back to your mistress. She knows not to cross me. Do that. Walk away and surrender Jazz. I’ll leave you in peace.”
“And the others?” Dash asked.
“Give me Jazz. He’s mine by right. The Drusans can go with their gods. They know they cannot defeat me.”
Jazz glanced around. Drusans? The females stared toward the source of the voice with anger. Okay. They must be Drusans.
Nardo continued. “The humans, of course, must be mind-wiped, which due to his intelligence and her will is likely to be difficult. Failing that, they must die. They know too much by the standards of any community.”
Jazz heard the words burst out of his mouth. “And you take over everything?”
“Ah, little wolf. If you simply play the chessboard before you, you’ll know I already have.”
“Fuck that.”
Nardo sounded annoyed. “Gods, you’re a pain in the ass.”
Dash glanced at Jazz with a grin. “And proud of it.”
There was another sigh. “I feel I’ve been more than reasonable here. I can, of course, destroy you all. But I prefer mercy. So accept my offer. Dashiell, walk away and take the Drusans with you.” His tone hardened even more. “Leave New York, ladies. Go meddle elsewhere. I’ll take the wolf and try not to hurt him. I’ll mind-wipe the humans or dispose of them as needed. All will be well.”
Dash looked at Jazz, then turned in a circle toward Carla, BeBop, Dij, Fatima, and her sisters, who muttered among themselves.
Jazz held his breath. Do it, Dash. It’s not your fight.
Carla must have had the same thought. “Walk away, Dash. We got you into this. We need to get ourselves out.”
An older woman with the group called Drusans said, “We will walk away. This is not our fight.”
Dij replied sharply, which was seldom her way. “Speak for yourself, Lalita. This is my battle. I choose to wage it.”
The woman nodded. “As you wish.” She walked toward the door, and several of the other women followed her.
The beautiful one with blue eyes said, “I have thrown my lot in with Khadija. We will stand together on whatever ground she may choose.” She stepped beside Dij.
The door opened and closed behind the other females. The space felt bigger and lonelier. Then Dash gently brushed Jazz’s hand with his knuckle.
Jazz spoke softly. “They’re right, you know? It’s not your fight. The world needs you to be in it.”
Dash smiled softly. “Not my fight? It’s been my fight since the day I was born, and it doubled on the day I met you. I don’t know what that means for tomorrow, but today the only place I can stand is beside you.”
Nardo’s voice sneered, “Isn’t that sweet?” The sneer turned to thunder. “But there is no tomorrow for any of you unless I say so!”
As if manifested from thin air—hell, maybe it was—a person appeared at the end of the corridor leading off from the space where they clustered surrounded by old rusty equipment. Tall, thin, with a mane of shaggy brown hair lightened with golden streaks, his eyes glowed like a caution light. He was awesome! It was impossible to guess his age. He walked forward slowly, like some stalking cat and, no shit, electricity jumped out of his fingers as if manifested from a Marvel comic.
“Holy crap.” The soft exclamation came from BeBop.
Jazz grabbed Dash’s arm. “You should run.”
Dash didn’t reply, but the buzzing sound made Jazz look. Zaps of electrical energy seemed to jump between Dash’s fingers as well.
Jazz gasped and stepped back. “Who are you?”
Dash never took his eyes from the oncoming figure.
“How come you never told me you could do that?” Jazz asked, glancing at Dash.
The corner of Dash’s mouth tugged upward. “You never asked.”
Jazz barked a laugh, and every head in the room snapped toward him.
Just then, Nardo swished his arms around like giant sparklers, and patterns of energy flared through the near darkness of the hall.
Jazz murmured, “Wow. Can you do that?”
“Yes.”
“You can?” He swallowed. “Can I?”
“Possibly. Probably. But it takes training.”
“Too late for that now.”
Like a prophetic response, a f
lash of what looked like lightning sailed inches above Jazz’s head, and he ducked. Holy shit, that would have taken my head off! Behind him, he heard Carla and BeBop gasping and running for cover.
Before Jazz could even process what was going on, another flash lit up the room, this time from Dash. As the blast left Dash’s hands, one more struck in front of their feet, leaving a charred, black scar on the concrete floor.
Gods, what can I do? Jazz was a wolf, or at least that’s what he’d always thought, but shifting now would leave Dash with a snarling animal beside him—one who, like most canines, didn’t much enjoy lightning.
Crash! Another hit, then another. Dash sent back what seemed like as good as he got, gaining some forward ground. But Nardo did too, and the two wizards got closer to each other with every strike. But no hits—until there was.
A bolt sailed at Dash and struck his cheek. The terrible smell of searing flesh filled the air.
“Dash!” Jazz reached for him, but Dash waved him away and sent another bolt toward the rapidly approaching Nardo.
“I was just toying with you. Toys are appropriate for children, don’t you think? But now it’s time for our little boys to learn their lessons for good.” A flash, and Dash’s T-shirt tore and burned, adding flamed cotton to the smell of burning body. Another tore his jeans, and this one burned Dash as well as his clothing.
Jazz shrieked, “No!” All the damage seemed to be happening to Dash and little to Nardo. A nick here, a little burning hair there.
“Wolf, tell your boy to give this up. To give you up and save himself and you.”
Jazz looked at Dash beseechingly. “What he said.” Jazz pressed a hand against Dash’s neck. “He’s too powerful. Stop and save yourself. I can’t do this to you. I can’t.”
Dash sent a huge bolt, and it hit Nardo square in the shoulder, spinning him half around. “That’s my reply.” He sent another, but Nardo blocked it and sailed one back that smashed into Dash with hurricane force and knocked him off his feet.
Jazz wanted to cry, to scream, to pull out his hair. He wanted Dash to stop. Please stop.
Dash leaped up and fired back, but a barrage soared toward him, bolt after bolt, and every one of them hit him, driving him back until he hit the brick wall, bounced off, and started to fold.
Carla and BeBop ran forward and grabbed Dash. Dash’s clothing was in tatters and streams of bleeding red marred his perfect skin. He raised his hands and fired, but the energy was so weak it didn’t even make it to Nardo. It fell short in a sad sputter.
Jazz stared at Dash, his fallen hero. Every cell in his being screamed out in horror. Who could do this to Dash, the beautiful, the perfect? He knelt down beside Dash’s sagging body. Pain seared through Jazz, so sharp he could barely stand. He sucked air like water into his lungs, hoping it might kill him and end this whole fool’s game.
But only one thought came to mind.
Fuck this.
Chapter Thirty-Three
JAZZ ROSE and turned toward Nardo.
“Had enough, Jazz? Is it time to save the life of the man you love? How sweet is that?”
The man I love. What an original idea. Was it true? Of course. And the fact was, living at any cost was a craptastic idea. Survival for its own sake was overrated.
He gathered his energy in his chest as he walked toward Nardo. Raising his hands, he asked them to please, please help him. I know I don’t deserve this. I know I’m a rank amateur. But please, just do what I say, okay? With an intense effort of will, he gathered a ball of energy in his palm and threw it at Nardo.
Nardo was so shocked, it hit him, but not nearly hard enough. He gasped and then laughed. “Well, I’ll be damned. Look what the little wolf can do.” Still, his expression faltered. “Where do you come from, wolf wizard?”
“I come from hell, and I want to send you there.” His anger turned to fire, and he rocketed it at Nardo.
This time he got a bolt back. It slammed his shoulder and hurt like a son of a bitch, but Jazz kept walking.
Nardo’s brows drew down over his slender nose. “My sentiment only goes so far, you fool.” He slammed Jazz again, then another time, right in the chest.
The bolt hit Jazz like a meteor. For a moment, his heart stopped from the impact, but when it started beating again, it was going at twice the speed. Jazz gathered it and threw his power, catching Nardo directly in the face and opening a wound on his cheek that started to bleed despite the cauterization.
“Go, Jazz,” Carla yelled.
Dij and the other Drusan female walked up on either side of Jazz. It was as if they were magnifying his power. He could feel it seeping through him, and he pushed another amp into his energy as he fired two more blasts at Nardo.
The first flew wide, but the second crashed into Nardo and threw him against the sidewall.
“Kick him in the balls, Jazz,” BeBop crowed.
But then, the games ended. Nardo’s anger filled the room, sucking up all the air. Jazz could see his intention all over his face. It felt as if a tidal wave had gathered, and then Nardo screamed, “You dare to defy me!” The scream was followed by a high-pitched shriek as Nardo pushed a mountain of power directly at Jazz. It moved so slowly and inexorably, Jazz could see it coming but there was nothing he could do. He and all his friends, the Superordinary Society that had started in such high-spirited jest, would now drown in this wave that should have been meant for only him. Going under. Forever.
“I love you,” Jazz cried, a sentiment that was meant for each of his friends.
And then he waited for it all to end—all the goodness that had become his life. His mom and Pop-Pop and his brothers. Carla, and the Society, and… Dash. Dash who had risked his life for Jazz. Jazz whispered again, “I love you.”
A wind blew across his face, and he looked up. For the first time, he totally believed that Moses had parted the Red Sea, because that’s what was happening to the wave of destruction powering toward them all. It parted and began to splash against the walls and the rusty old equipment, banging, crashing, and knocking parts to the ground. But it didn’t hit a single one of them.
Jazz knew his mouth was hanging open—but no more than Nardo’s. The wizard stared past Jazz as if he’d seen the devil incarnate.
Jazz turned.
Behind him, like the personification of an avenging angel, stood Lysandra, her face terrible in its awesome power. She threw her head back as she cast some vast spell of force that sailed toward Nardo. The great mage screamed, and she echoed it an octave higher.
But the wave dissipated under Nardo’s command.
She bent forward and cast her energy low, this time taking him by surprise and catching him in the gut. His oof of pain reverberated around the cavern, but it didn’t drive him down, and he retaliated, catching her in the breast. Her look of pain stabbed Jazz’s heart.
“You’re an idiot, Lysandra,” Nardo yelled. “You have no play here. Leave now and let this be over.”
“You try to take what’s mine? Never, Nardo! You’re a fool if you think I’ll just roll over and let you win.”
He smiled blackly. “I notice you’re alone. No council to back your play.”
“Do you think I need a council to beat you?” But her voice shook as she said the words.
He chuckled. “Yes, I do.” And he blasted her so hard, Jazz could barely believe she’d live through it. Nardo’s hands moved so fast they couldn’t be seen, flashing bolts and waves toward Lysandra, whose body trembled and shook like a voodoo doll. She was clearly injured and weakened.
Jazz watched her beautiful face set in lines of pure determination, and she seemed to reach into her soul as she cast what might well be her last wave of energy straight at Nardo, throwing him backward and slamming him against the bricks so hard, some of them shattered.
Nardo tried to catch himself and shook his head, and Jazz could see him rallying. He could feel Nardo drawing energy to himself, energy to finish off Lysandra and follow with Jazz,
Carla, BeBop, Dij, and Dash!
Lysandra can’t beat him. Dash can’t beat him.
Energy filled Jazz’s chest and suddenly the heavens opened. I can’t defeat Nardo. Not with magic. Maybe I’ll never be able to. But while they say I’m a mage, I know who I am.
“Noooooo—ahooooo.”
In one huge leap, Jazz sailed through the air.
Jazz, Jazz, WOLF!
Jazz’s wolf slammed into Nardo, sinking his teeth into Nardo’s throat. The wolf growled low and full of pleasure as they hit the floor and the mage’s blood spilled over the wolf’s tongue.
“Nooo!”
The horrible gurgle in Nardo’s scream made the wolf’s heart smile.
Growling fiercely, he drank until he felt the fight leaching out of the body beneath him. Good. Save Dash. Good. Love.
Lysandra spoke softly. “If you don’t kill him, I’ll see that he stands trial before the Magicouncil.”
The wolf, still holding the mage by his neck, cut his eyes toward the beautiful woman. Woman. Know woman.
With a lot of reluctance, Jazz released the body, and it fell in a heap. Evil. Bad. Love.
“Woof.”
She patted his head. “I know. I share your sentiments, but I guess this is better. You’re a good, brave wolf, and an even better man.” She rose and walked toward the back wall.
“Dash, are you hurt badly? Dear gods, who takes on their first battle against the most powerful mage in the world?”
The Jazz wolf stared at the body of Nardo.
Should kill. Will be sorry.
WHEN DASH hobbled out of the warehouse into the alley with his arm around Jazz, his clothes were so burned and torn, he might as well have been nude. But he wasn’t quite as bad off as Jazz, who’d surrendered his clothing to the shift and now wore one of Khadija’s extra head scarves around his waist and nothing else. It didn’t matter. They were instantly covered in bodies. Jazz’s mom, grandfather, adoptive father, and brothers surrounded them, while a second row of miscellaneous in-laws and friends practically blocked out the sun.
