by SJ Himes
He dropped his hand, and the dome evaporated, green and blue smoke carried away on the breeze. Nica strode to the fallen lich, kneeling beside it. He reached out and yanked free the sword still embedded in the creature’s hip before tossing it aside into the dirt. Magic rose again, so familiar to Angel he thought it was his own, before the blue flames sparking to life around Nica proved it was his. The lich trembled, bones rattling, and disappeared in an eruption of blue flame.
Nica stood, brushing off his jeans.
The jeweled leather band about his wrist glowed. Runes danced across the gems then settled.
His wristband was a reliquary. Nica was nice and gentle and absolutely insane.
“By Hecate, you’re wearing your menagerie,” Angel exclaimed, laughing in disbelief. “The Lamb is utterly crazy.”
Rory had put on a shirt, and Daniel tried not to feel sad about it. The fae was delightful to look at, easily the most beautiful being Daniel had ever seen. He wore a tunic made of white linen, the front untied and open, ends going down to mid thigh, the sides cut for easy movement. It was a simple and elegant garment, and Daniel wanted to touch it. He kept his hands to himself and sat on the chaise, watching as Rory patrolled the greenhouse, slipping silently through the trees and plants.
“Nothing was alive in here a few months ago. I came here with Angel when he got some stuff from the mansion. This place was dead and locked shut.”
“It was barren and lonely when I found this place,” Rory’s voice came out from the dark. “My awakening was a miracle but left me at a disadvantage. If not for my twin, I would still be in hiding, at a loss for how to manage this new time.”
“Isn’t your brother in jail?” If the psycho was free…
“Do not fear, Daniel.” Rory said as he came from the shadows, hand on his sword in an easy, habitual manner. “He is my twin. We share a mind bond. He was left adrift while I slept, but when your master saved me, I was again present in Cian’s mind, and he in mine. Through Cian’s memories, I understand the years that passed, and some of how to live in this world.”
“So, you came to Angel’s ancestral home and moved into his greenhouse?” Daniel was confused. It made no sense. “If you needed a place to stay, Angel would have helped. You probably don’t even need to hide out here. He might even let you move into the mansion.”
“The place is a mausoleum, stained by violent death and memories haunting the halls. Grief lives there now. I would not intrude upon such sacred ground unless invited.”
“But the greenhouse is okay?” Daniel retorted, and Rory gave him a boyish smile.
“Your master saved my life and spared my brother’s. We owe him two life debts. With my brother atoning for his crimes, it is on me to honor the debts. I spent the last few moons learning how to live in this world. I am no use until then. Your master does not need a guardian, and my sword is not needed to protect him. The greenhouse was empty and barren and returning it to life was one small thing I could do until I mastered this time.”
“If I had my cell, I could call him, let you talk to him. He was worried about you. You disappeared after the police arrested your brother.”
“I will speak to him if it is your wish. Though the magics of this city are in turmoil. Something is happening to the north, echoing across the land. I believe he may be presently engaged.”
Daniel couldn’t feel anything in the ambient magic fields, but if it wasn’t happening in his immediate vicinity, he wouldn’t feel it, regardless. Fae were an entirely different species, and their magics worked differently too. Rory could probably do a whole lot more than Daniel could even guess at. “Can you tell what’s happening?”
Daniel was perfectly content to stay in the greenhouse with Rory. He felt safe. Protected. Safer than he felt at the Tower. There he wasn’t safe at all. Rory appeared to be listening to something only he could hear. He tilted his head, long green hair shifting forward. “Mortal magicians battling. Death magic over it all. Your master’s magic. His essence floods the magical fields making up this city.”
“Is he winning?” He was afraid to ask, but he couldn’t stop himself.
“As much as I can tell, yes,” Rory assured him. “The levels remain the same. Brief surges, but nothing to indicate a weakening. He prevails.”
Daniel breathed out a long sigh of relief. “Thank goodness.”
“He means much to you,” Rory stated, kneeling to put another log on the embers in the brazier.
“He saved my life, kept me out of prison, and kept me safe by making me his apprentice,” Daniel didn’t deny it. Angel was everything to Daniel. The big brother and father he’d always wanted, in one irascible and trustworthy person. “He saved me,” Daniel repeated quietly. Rory still knelt by the brazier, amber eyes bright in the flames.
“A worthy man of your love.” The words were soft, his tone almost melancholy.
Daniel frowned, then he understood, shocked. “Oh! No. No! I love him like a brother. More than I ever loved my own father. I am not in love with him, not like that.”
“Truly?” Rory appeared to be happy, though Daniel couldn’t guess why. “It is good you love him, though I am gladdened your heart does not belong to your master.”
Daniel was about to ask why when Rory’s head whipped around, and he stood, drawing his sword. Daniel went rigid in fear, and he reached down and nudged Eroch, the little dragon curled up at the base of the brazier, snoring. Eroch hissed in complaint but woke up, crawling up Daniel’s arm to his shoulder. “What is it?”
Rory motioned for him to be quiet, and the fae melted into the shadows near the glass door leading out into the gardens. Daniel peered through the glass, the moon shining bright enough outside he could make out a figure on the path, moving with an utterly unhuman, subtle grace.
The figure approached the greenhouse, moving with caution, though they would be able to see Daniel sitting on the chaise once they got close enough, the walls were made of glass. A hand reached for the door, and it opened, the hinges oiled, the glass moving aside without a sound. The light from the brazier didn’t reach far enough for Daniel to see who it was, and the figure took a step, then another, over the threshold.
There was a flash of metal in the dark then a brief scuffle, and Rory and the intruder pushed forward into the firelight. Rory’s sword was a type of saber, though both sides were sharp and the point deadly, the edges gleaming in the firelight. He held the point to the throat of Batiste, who appeared bored and not at all unnerved.
“Connie, how delightful. How are you, my old friend?” Rory greeted the city master if they had just crossed paths on the street and no one had a sword to someone’s throat.
“Ruairí. I have seen better days than today, but I am well. May I inquire as to the purpose of the sword?” Batiste didn’t even flinch, despite the sword looking sharp enough to take his head.
“Life debt to Angelus Salvatore, and the youngling needs a champion. He has my protection.”
Batiste cast an appraising glance at Daniel, who shrugged but didn’t argue. Batiste gave a short nod to Daniel then looked back to Rory. “He has my protection as well, despite my failures this day.”
Rory looked to Daniel, who shrugged again. “He trusted the wrong person, but Master Batiste has been nice to me. He’s okay.”
Rory put away the sword with a small flourish and gestured to the bench opposite the chaise where Daniel sat. “Welcome to my hearth. I have no repast worthy of the undead, but I do have some wine.”
Batiste sat on the bench. He glanced at Daniel then his eyes alighted on Eroch. “Last I saw the two of you, your little green friend was the size of a small home and had just eaten two humans. You look better, youngling.”
“Eroch ate people?” Daniel asked, aghast. Eroch chirped at the city master and curled up on Daniel’s shoulder, ready to sleep again.
“He decided to forgo actually eating them, though both are dead.” Batiste paused. “Stellan Ariella was one of the humans who
attempted to kidnap you. He is dead, along with an enforcer from the Council. Bridgerton and the enforcer managed to sneak back into the Tower, I am assuming with Ariella’s help, as he’d have the most knowledge of the structure. Bridgerton escaped. He is still a threat as is the Council.”
“You came alone?” Daniel asked. He didn’t know how he felt about Ariella being dead. The man had hurt him and tortured him over weeks, and all Daniel wanted to do was forget about him.
“My people are protecting the Tower from further incursions by the Council and aiding Simeon and Angel. I failed to keep you safe, so I have come myself to see you safely back to your master.”
“Rory said Angel was fighting. Do you know what’s going on?”
“When I last heard from Simeon, Angel was dealing with a supernatural creature inadvertently freed by the graverobbers. I have not heard from Simeon in some time.”
“They might need help.” Eroch perked up, and Daniel realized he’d said that aloud.
Rory came out of the shadows, holding two goblets. He handed one to Batiste, who took his absently, looking at Daniel in surprise. Daniel spoke to Rory. “Can you tell where they are? You can sense them, right?”
“I can, yes. Do you wish to go?”
Daniel stood, and Eroch took to the air, winging around with excited chirps. “You said Angel was fighting, mortal magicians were battling. That means enforcers. Angel is fucking scary, but Angel against all the forces the Council can wield? They need help.”
“I shall take you then,” Rory agreed and drank down the goblet in his hand. He reached behind the bench and pulled up a cloak in dark brown and greens. He went to Daniel and swung it around his shoulders. It smelled of flowers and petrichor and covered him with a soft warmth. “Coming?” Daniel asked Batiste, who was still surprised. The surprise faded away into something akin to mischief. “Yes, I suppose we are. I have my car. Rory,” Batiste stressed the nickname with a sly glance to the fae, “can navigate. I feel the need to trounce some Council enforcers.”
Batiste drank down his wine as well then led the way out of the greenhouse, Eroch flying above them as they walked through the gardens. Daniel had no clue what he would do if he did find Angel battling against Council enforcers, but he would do something more than sitting around being afraid. He was so very tired of being scared.
22
Magica Duellum
Little Alice was picked up, held close, and was with Nica and Milly. O’Malley was sending infuriated glances at Malis, who was still behind her shield, ignoring everyone around her. Angel could tell the cop wanted to arrest the magister, and he just might let him.
Kidnapping and crossing international lines with a minor was a big deal, and Malis had put her foot squarely in it.
With the lich gone, the cops had come sweeping in, and the enforcers Angel took out were carted off in ambulances, police following them to the hospital. Angel had deactivated the pestilence curse at Milly’s request, since the enforcers were no longer any threat. Angel had nearly killed them. The two enforcers whom Simeon and his soldiers did kill, the ones holding Alice, were left in the dirt until after the duel.
Simeon leaned down and pressed a kiss to Angel’s forehead. “End this swiftly, mo ghra. I want to greet the dawn safely in our home, wrapped in your arms. Let us be done with these people once and for all.”
“I will. Have you heard from Batiste about Daniel?” Angel asked. Simeon shook his head.
“My phone died from a glancing blow by a spell. I have no way to check my messages.”
“Ask Milly for mine, she has it. It’s in my satchel. If mine is fried as well, ask to use hers. Hell, Milly has all my toys.” Angel grinned, waving to his partner, who rolled her eyes at him and went back to talking to Alice and Nica. Milly had Angel’s athame, since weapons were not allowed in a practitioner duel, tucked away safely in her purse with the tarot deck from Giselle and Greyson’s cane. “Find Daniel. I’ll finish Malis off then we need to get Daniel and Eroch before the sun comes up.”
“As you wish, mo ghra,” Simeon kissed him again, this time on the lips. Angel soaked up the love then when Simeon pulled away, he headed for Milly and breathed out, needing to focus.
Angel backed away, into the flattened earth where the lich had been held. He swept aside the debris with a small use of kinetic magic then looked up to the sky. The moon was past its zenith. The night seemed to stretch on forever. Too much in one night. There was already too much conflict in one night to last a lifetime, and he was at the end of his tolerance. The reds and blues of the police lights reflected off the budding branches of the trees around them, the high-rises of Downtown glinting, somehow looking close enough to touch. The breeze was salty and sweet, the wind coming in from off the ocean. Sounds of traffic could be heard from a couple blocks away, the I-90 still busy despite the late hour.
The dueling circle would reach from just behind where Angel was standing out to Malis, where she glowered from within her shield, the two dead enforcers thrown at her feet as a testament to her failed endeavors.
Angel was about to speak when he heard a car approach. Doors shut, and he looked past the police. Three people approached, and he smiled wide when saw the shorter of the three. Daniel ran up to the police barricade, waving, wearing what looked to be a cloak. Simeon blurred to meet him, and Angel could see Batiste appear behind his apprentice. Angel nodded to the city master when the undead man saw him, but Batiste shook his head in denial and gestured to the third figure who came out of the night.
Ruairí Brennan meet his gaze across the distance, and the fae gave him a deep, elegant bow. Angel’s brows got lost in his hairline, and he was at a loss to understand where the fae came from. The fae straightened then put himself next to Daniel, hand on the sword at his hip, acting like a bodyguard. If the ancient fae wanted to protect Daniel, Angel wasn’t going to say no. He wasn’t stupid. O’Malley gestured, and Daniel’s small group was let in. Simeon was speaking to them, heads together, explaining. He knew when Daniel learned of the duel when his apprentice sent him a frantic, worried glance.
Angel smiled, trying to reassure Daniel. His apprentice bit his lower lip, nervous, and Milly went to him, hugging the young man.
Worry he’d been carrying all night fell away. Daniel was safe. Eroch rode on Daniel’s shoulder, the dragon once again tiny and unassuming, his secret not so secret anymore, he was sure to get people asking about the giant dragon in the morning. Isaac was safe at Nevermore, and everyone Angel cared about was with him. This wasn’t the safest of places, but since no more enforcers had come from the shadows, the Council’s people were either out of commission or refusing to engage further.
“I’m going to throw him in a cell so deep in the earth, it will become his grave. Your apprentice will die cursing your name.” Her taunt reached across the wide space, silencing the few people speaking. Angel dismissed her with a toss of his hand.
He wanted the threat to his family over. He wanted the magister gone. The Council out of his city. He wanted to sleep in, have sex, drink coffee. Enjoy watching Eroch manage the city pigeon population.
Angel wanted to live his life in peace.
Angel addressed those gathered under the stars and moon. “I Challenge High Magister Corinne Malis to magical combat. To death or willing forfeit. If I win, the Council is to permanently leave the cities of Boston and Montreal, never to return. If I lose…” Angel paused. “Well, if I’ve lost then I’m dead.”
“I won’t kill you. I will make you bend. No need for a trial,” Malis sneered at him. “We came for you and your mate. You’ll belong to the Council for a very long time.”
“The hell I will.” Angel spoke louder. “Are the terms witnessed?”
A chorus of ayes was his answer. Some were more enthusiastic than others.
The spell for dueling was one he remembered from his very brief year in a private high sorcery school. He only went for a short time, before a certain instructor by the name of Dame Font
aine had him tested, confirming her suspicion that he was years beyond his peers. Angel had left the school with a few new spells under his belt and a future friend in Milly. He faced Malis and began the spell. She would need to finish it.
Both combatants in a formal duel were required to raise a dueling shield, protecting the witnesses and keeping the duelers from escaping. A duel ended by death or willing forfeit. No running allowed, and no weapons but their magics.
“Honor meus scutum morte.”
My life and honor, a shield against death.
Malis dropped her personal shield and mirrored him on the field. She carried the second phrase of the spell.
“Sit mihi in me provocatione ad victoriam.”
May my challenge see me to victory.
The shield that arose this time was different than the dome Angel created to cage the lich. This one was a searing white circle in the dirt, casting light straight up, its diameter about thirty feet across. Its purpose was to prevent spells from escaping and to keep the duelists inside.
There were no rules inside. Death or willing forfeit. No such thing as cheating or fair play.
The second the dueling shield was complete, she attacked. A torrent of flame erupted across the circle, and Angel raised a partial shield in front of himself with one arm, kneeling. He unleashed the pestilence curse again, but she was expecting it, which didn’t matter. If she lost concentration and forgot to shield between her body and the earth, he would have her.
The heat from the flames was horrendous. “Fuck,” he swore quietly. He increased his shield, and the flames receded. Angel opened the mate bond wide and felt Malis tap the veil almost simultaneously. Shouts came from outside the circle, but he ignored them in favor of the duel.
He was done fucking around. She wanted to get nasty. He wasn’t going to hold back. The primordial death magic singing in his core filled him to overflowing. His shield was impenetrable, and the wave of kinetic magic he gathered and released tore across the ground, lifting dirt and debris in a tsunami crashing into the shield she hastily raised. Dust and earth, stones and broken branches rained down on top of her, blinding her, covering her shield and blocking her view of Angel. He couldn’t see her either, but he didn’t need to. She spat out a curse, and two cyclones of fire roared to life, devouring the air and superheating the inside of the dueling circle. The top was exposed to the sky, so her attempt to smother him in flame and suck up all the air wasn’t going to work. Angel could drop a shield on top of her, and suck all the air out, but it would take too long, and she would be able to fight for a few minutes.
