by Patti Larsen
Ready for a fight, burning for it.
But none came. I caught a glimpse of movement ahead, spotted Demetrius running the length of the building and raced after him. Charlotte chuffed next to me as she morphed further into wolf form, loping at my side on four legs. A silver streak of fur raced past her, heading for Demetrius as I wondered what Sassafras thought he could accomplish without power.
I glanced over my shoulder, saw Quaid, Mia in his arms, running after us. This time I supplied him magic support and he nodded grimly in thanks.
The rooftop was empty, all but for some outtakes of air conditioning, the giant units roaring into the darkness, and a sculpture on the far end, facing inland. I slid to a halt on the pebbled asphalt roof, the stink of it rising to assault me, heat making the footing sticky. Demetrius pointed as I tried to make sense of what I saw.
Five pillars, taller than me, taller than the goon squad we'd taken out, stood in a rough circle around another central column. No ordinary pillars. My sorcery called to them as I approached, the pulse of their magic warming to greet the stone in my hand.
Crystals. But not the rough edged ones I was used to. These hulked their way skyward, polished columns, each glowing softly from within with their own subtle beauty, facets clearly visible past surfaces as smooth as glass. All the colors of magic pulsed here: green, white, red, blue, amber. I circled them slowly, eyes going to the ground, realizing then this was no circle.
They stood at the points of the pentagram, and the central crystal, its heart black and opaque, loomed in the middle. The Brotherhood used the power of the covens, the same pattern we called on to reinforce our family magic, to connect and bind us together.
Learned a thing or two from us, it seemed.
“This,” Demetrius's lower lip quivered as he came to stand beside me, shoulders sagging, tears welling in his eyes. “Monstrous.”
I reached for it with power, feeling each of the columns answer me, wake, hum to life.
Try to feed from me.
My vampire snarled, demon howling her fury while Shaylee's earth magic made the rooftop rumble. I slammed up shields against the crystals as they seemed to sigh in sadness before falling still again.
But no. Not still. Not quite. They were still drawing on power, weren't they? I could feel the subtle thread they pulled toward them, closed my eyes a moment before opening them slowly. Yes. There. The threads were real, barely visible to my magic sight. Sucking in power.
From everywhere. Multiple trails, from hundreds of sources, flooding the columns with energy.All of it, every scrap, funneling through them into the center of the pentagram, to the heart of darkness waiting.
To the black stone, the one in the middle. Silent as death, absorbing power as though it ate the light.
“We must shatter the crystals.” Demetrius jabbed at me with one sharp finger. “They've taken enough power the machine does its work for them.”
I stared at him. “The Dumont magic,” I said. It now made complete, horrible sense. How would we end, I wondered, standing there, staring at the possibility of the end of magic? Would it build, this drawing of power, until, like the crack in a dam, it burst, and we lost all of our power in one great wave? Or, would it go on like this, subtle and slow, the loss so incremental we didn't notice until it was too late? Until all of the magic was eaten alive?
Demetrius's head bobbed, hair waving around his damaged cherub face. “It's awake now,” he said. “It has a soul. And it must feed.”
Quaid stopped behind me, the press of his shoulder against my back sticking my t-shirt to my slick skin. But I welcomed the contact, didn't feel the heat anymore, not through the chill of discovery.
“This is why they haven't bothered to attack anyone else,” he said. “They don't have to, do they, Demetrius?”
The little man sighed sadly. “No,” he said, singing the words. “Not now. It will eat and eat until nothing is left but what they own. Just like the rest of their plans.”
“How do we stop it, Demetrius?” A part of me felt guilty, imagine. But the pulsing soul of the crystal in my hand felt so similar to the heartbeats I'd felt in the large columns I wondered what I'd done, if the crystal I had in my possession was as dangerous as the magic siphon before me. “How do we destroy it?”
He turned and looked up at me from the corner of his eye, hand reaching for mine, holding it like a little kid who needed his mommy to save him. “There's only one way,” he said. “Maji.”
The power of creation. That didn't make any sense. “How can I create them into destroying themselves?” Damn it, I knew so little, really about what I was. About what I could do. A little appearance from my maji guardian/teacher/pain in my ass, Iepa, would have been pretty helpful right about then.
Like that was going to happen.
Sydlynn, my vampire sent. We've already had this conversation.
We had?
Creation magic not only creates, it controls. She sounded a little miffed I'd forgotten. All other magicks bow to it, can be manipulated and altered by it. It is literally the reason for other magic.
Oh yeah. I seemed to recall she mentioned that to me when we fought Quaid, after the Seelie Queen Aiolainn thralled him.
What had my vampires said then? Creation magic controlled all other magicks. That was the true power of the maji.
Gotcha, I sent. Creation magic it was.
Charlotte's scream turned me half-way around, just as the crack of a whip jarred my ears. I saw her flying toward me, her half wolf form filling out, eyes wide and wolfish. But I wasn't paying attention to her, not really, not when something slammed into me, shoving me back, stumbling, falling.
Shoulder on fire as I went down.
***
Chapter Twenty Eight
Slow.
Motion.
I heard Charlotte howling, drawn out and garbled, as I fell back, the unexpected blow bending my knees, dropping me like a rock to the stinking rooftop. My head struck the surface, bounced from the asphalt as the burning in my shoulder grew in intensity, from flames to a raging inferno.
My vampire hissed in my head, spirit magic surging even as my demon roared her rage. I struggled to sit up, hand clenching around my crystal despite the raging pain racing down my arm, my demon driving me to act, to protect myself, while the ball of fire erupted in agony, gasp worthy pain racing across my chest and down my arm, blooming in time with my heartbeat. I rolled on my side as Quaid sank to his haunches next to me, face crumpled in fear, hands reaching for me. So fast, it all happened so fast, so slow. I turned to Charlotte, in wolf form, as she leaped between me and the advancing line of dark-suited men, the one in the front pointing something at me.
At her.
Another crack of the whip. Charlotte's high-pitched yelp of canine agony drove me to my knees. I shoved Quaid aside with the shoulder that wasn't on fire, my power lunging for my bodywere as she crumpled and fell to the rooftop.
Human again as she crashed to the ground.
Fell still.
I pressed one hand to my shoulder as time came back to normal, cried out at the pain my touch caused, pulled away to find my fingers and palm slick with blood. Liander Belaisle came to a grinning halt next to Charlotte, the gun in his hand still trailing smoke from the end of the barrel.
He shot me?
Seriously?
Rage surged, my demon taking over, vampire pouring more spirit magic over the bullet hole even as I lashed out with a whip of my own, slashing across the line of sorcerers who came to challenge me.
My power died against a wall of nothing, pattering to the ground in a sheet of sparks.
More guns, more grins. All the confidence in the world.
Belaisle prodded Charlotte with one shiny shoe, towering over her quiet body though she was taller than him standing, looking down at her like he owned her. Terror clenched in my gut when she didn't move, twitch. Breathe. A large pool of wetness spread beneath her, shining in the highest lights of the
city reflecting onto the rooftop.
I had to save her! My feet wouldn't support me, knees weak with fear, my power reaching for Charlotte, desperate, so desperate.
Only to find her trapped on the other side of Belaisle's control.
The wall of empty kept me from her. I gasped her name, knowing I had no time to reach her physically, to save her. Not now. Maybe not ever.
Not when Belaisle turned the muzzle of his pistol and pointed it at Quaid.
Oh no, he did not.
Sydlynn, my vampire's screech bit through my shock. The weapon.
Yes. Yes, of course. This time I didn't attack the man, but his machine. He might be behind the shielding, but he foolishly allowed his gun to pass through the front edge and left it vulnerable. The black flower beneath me bloomed open, welcoming me, begging to be fed, and I obliged. The wall of empty shielding suctioned around the barrel pulled me, like magic to like until it wasn't empty anymore.
I felt Belaisle shift, his finger tightening on the trigger, touched the gun with my sorcery, used it to fight back. Poured all of my rage and hate and need to punish him into the metal in his bare hand.
Belaisle cried out in pain and fury as the gun flared red hot. He tossed it aside, smoking, turning to glare at me.
Before grinning again. And pulling back one foot and planting it in Charlotte's stomach.
She lifted from the roof at least a half foot, body flipping over before landing hard, the motion rolling her over onto her back. Her head fell to one side, face upturned toward me. A mess of black liquid coated her chest, stained her skimpy underwear, red glints showing in what light we had.
But it was her empty eyes I found myself lost in.
“You and your magic,” Belaisle said as I choked on grief, consuming sadness, knowing she was—no. I couldn't think that. There had to be hope. She was playing, biding her time. Letting Belaisle think he'd beaten her. Any moment now she'd rise, fight back—
He adjusted the front of his tailored suit, worried about appearances while my bodywere—my friend—continued to bleed on the filthy rooftop. His fingers brushed over the small goatee on his chin as I turned slowly back to him, letting the grief spin into a tornado of hate fueling my power. “You forget there are other means, Miss Hayle. Much more effective.” He strode past Charlotte's quiet form while I shook inside, grief still fighting, though my rage won for now as my demon, vampire and Sidhe princess fought to keep me level.
Level. What good balance when Charlotte was—
“I'm not certain mere bullets will be able to kill you at this point,” the blood had already stopped flowing from my shoulder as my vampire did her work, “thanks to what you're becoming.” He stopped a few feet away, hands sliding into his trouser pockets. “Yes, my dear, I know exactly what you're becoming.” Bastard.
Charlotte was right.
Killing was the only option.
But Charlotte was—
“Bullets will, however, kill your friends.” Belaisle gestured behind him. The sound of guns cocking froze me in place.
I should never have brought them with me.
Never.
Belaisle's gaze fell on Demetrius and, for the first time, a flash of real anger crossed his face.
“I should have put you out of your misery the last time we met, Strong.” Belaisle's voice lost the silky polish of polite society, a more common accent, something rough and almost backwoods, tainting his speech.
Poser. I knew it.
Demetrius stuck out his tongue, thumbs in his ears, waggling his fingers at the Brotherhood leader. “Sticks and stones, Andy,” he said.
Would have been funny.
If not for Charlotte—
Wasn't.
“Well then,” Belaisle said. “I'll just have to correct that mistake, won't I?” He half-turned, calling over his shoulder. “Bring my crystal. I'll drain him first. And a new gun.”
“They know about you now,” I said, spit out around the knowledge Charlotte wasn't getting up again. Belaisle ignored me, turned as one of the Brotherhood stepped forward, placing a cloth bag in one of his leader's hands and a dull black pistol in the other. But I kept going anyway, babbling, furious.
Heartbroken.
“The Enforcers will find you and destroy this machine.” I wished I believed it.
Belaisle laughed as he slid the crystal from the bag, holding it in his left hand while he balanced the new gun in his right. He took his time, still standing confidently behind his wall of protection, gun and all. Too bad he wasn’t about to make the same mistake twice. I could feel it better now, his shielding, thanks to my own sorcery. He called on the ranks of sorcerers he brought with him, almost blotting himself out from magical view so much power poured into it. “How foolish and romantic and utterly ridiculous.” He pointed the crystal at Demetrius. “Tell her, Strong. Tell her no one will come.”
Demetrius whined softly, looked away.
Yeah, I wasn't holding out hope either. And I was now out of threats.
Your maji power is all we have left, my vampire sent.
He'll kill them, I sent back with my soul collapsing inside me, my eyes settling on Charlotte—
Stop it. My vampire's power slapped me, hard. We can't think about her now, Syd. Even if it means they die. That we die. We have to stop Belaisle.
I squeezed the crystal in my hand, the pain of the sharp edges digging in. Pain brought clarity, even as the wakened crystal fed the dark flower beneath me. It continued to gape open, welcoming me. But it wasn't alone. I had them all now, all magicks, access to more than enough. And thanks to the blood staining my skin, I had the final trigger to waken my creation magic.
Rage ruling me, all of my magicks begging to be freed, I called on the maji.
Felt my power come together.
Just as Demetrius howled in rage and leaped for Belaisle.
***
Chapter Twenty Nine
The leader of the Brotherhood didn't get a chance to pull the trigger. And neither did Demetrius make it to his destination. An outward blast of power sent me flying back, Quaid and Mia next to me, Demetrius falling in my lap as I landed hard between two of the towering crystal columns.
We weren't the only ones. Sorcerers went tumbling like ten pins as a giant, black hole opened in the center of the roof, gushing iridescent light around the edges. Belaisle's lips moved as though he cursed, but the sound was lost in the roar of wind as three figures stepped out of the black hole just before it crushed itself out of existence.
Trill stood in the center of the gap, long hair settling around her, arms dropping to her sides as she released her power. Owen stood next to her, gaping mouth and eyes no longer endless pits of darkness. The pair clearly mastered their abilities, tied them together even, but not without help. A third form stood between them, blackness and light all wound together around him. Hope rose in me again, even as my friend's companion, a tall, handsome guy it turned out when his own magic faded, offered Liander a wave and a smile.
“Long time no see.” He turned and winked at me, eyes as blue as Owen's. “You're welcome.”
I'd be pissed about his attitude later. Belaisle and his people pulled themselves to their feet, and together, advanced while Belaisle glared at the trio. I stood, too, trying to find my maji again.
Only to realize everything was gone. My head was silent. My right hand closed reflexively around the crystal.
The crystal that wasn't there anymore.
Damn, how had I lost it? Dropped it in the arrival of the Zornovs.
Helpless. Hopeless.
I had to find it.
Belaisle wasn't about to wait for me to scramble around searching for my crystal. He raised his gun and pointed it at Trill.
Pulled the trigger.
I screamed, a sob punching me in the chest, seeing Charlotte, knowing another of my friends gave her life.
Only to gape as the bullet slowed. Stopped. Came to hover in front of Trill. She plucked it gently
from the air, let it sit in her palm. Blew on it. The metal burst into sparks and dispersed under her breath.
“You'll have to do better than that,” she said.
Hell, yes!
Syd. Trill's mental voice reached me. But how? It wasn't until I saw Owen's hand in hers I understood. She used his sorcery to touch mine. I'll handle Belaisle. Destroy that machine.
I spun to look for my crystal, knowing she was right, only to have Demetrius grab my hand and pull me forward, into the circle. Toward the big black column.
I showed him my empty hands, tried to turn away and find what I'd lost, but he tugged against me as the air behind me burst into rapid gun fire. I had to go back, to help my friends! Something pinged from one of the crystal columns, a sharp slice across my cheek stinging as a shard cut me.
We weren't alone, then, Quaid dragging Mia into the center with us, ducking behind one of the columns. His dark eyes met mine, fear as real as his resolve.
Demetrius pinched me to gain my attention, scowling. “Focus,” he said. “Here, you see?” He held up his crystal, showed me the lines running through it. Someone screamed, a man's scream. I couldn't focus, what was he thinking? How could I possibly pay attention while there was a good chance those I cared about were likely dying?
To buy me time.
Suck it the hell up and get to work, Hayle.
Right.
I looked, drew a breath, fought for calm.
“Here,” he said, pointing with one very grubby finger. “You see it?”
At first I didn't. Low light, no way to augment my vision, distractions pulling at me. But just as I was about to shake my head, the glint of illumination when he turned the crystal showed me what he pointed to.
A flaw. Deep inside.
“Fragile,” he whispered. Gestured around him at the columns. “Only as strong as their weakest point.” He leaned forward and pounded on the outside of the black one. “No way to do it from here,” he said. “But from inside...” He pinched me again. “Inside is weak.”
