mythean arcana 07 - witchs fate

by Linsey Hall

  Though Sofia suspected what was coming next, it still surprised her to see his golden wolf burst from his chest. The animal gleamed in the dim light.

  “Holy shit,” Inara breathed.

  To Sofia’s knowledge, there were only two Mytheans in the world like Malcolm: himself and his brother. Half-blood wulvers were exceedingly rare. Inara would have never seen such a thing.

  The wolf walked to the wall and disappeared through it.

  Sofia waited, her breath held. She had no idea what he was doing, but didn’t want to disturb him. Separating part of your soul from your body was always a dangerous business.

  After a while, the wolf returned. It melded back into Malcolm’s chest and he stood upright. He walked toward the wall that was opposite the exterior wall.

  “Come here,” he said. “It’s safer.”

  Sofia and Kitty went to stand by him. Inara came as well.

  “If we get you out of here, you’ll answer our questions…agreed?” Malcolm asked.

  “Deal,” Inara said. “But I don’t know how the hell you think we’re getting out of here.”

  “You’ll see. Soon.”

  Not a moment later, the stone wall opposite them burst outward, flinging rocks and mortar. Malcolm lunged at Sofia and pushed her against the wall, covering her body with his own.

  When the rubble settled, Sofia pushed him off her and looked toward the destroyed wall. A group of people stood, silhouetted in dust. Two women held their hands outstretched as if they’d just thrown a burst of magical energy at the wall. One was tall and pale with dark hair, the other short and golden all over. Two black familiars stood at their sides.

  They looked like total bad asses, here to rescue them. Sofia grinned.

  “I haven’t caused this much damage in quite a while,” the golden one said. Her eyes gleamed delightedly. “Being on the right side of the law can be quite boring.”

  The men behind them surged forward, putting themselves between the women and the unknown. The huge, dark-haired one looked a bit like Malcolm. His brother Felix. Malcolm had told her of him, though she’d never met him. The other had honey-colored hair and blocked the taller woman.

  “We’d better get on our way,” Felix said. “This hasn’t exactly been a subtle escape attempt.”

  Malcolm grabbed her hand and they raced for the huge hole in the wall. He nodded back at Inara. “Grab her. She’s coming with us.”

  Felix grabbed Inara by the arm and followed them.

  Sofia stepped out of the room and into a giant pit in the ground.

  “Dungeon’s in the basement, as all good dungeons are,” the golden woman said with a grin. “So we had to blow a hole in the ground.”

  Sofia nodded, then frowned. Weakness tugged at her. A tingly sense of the power of her immortal soul being sucked away.

  These women were soulceresses. No wonder they could blow the wall away.

  “We’ll aetherwalk to my place,” Malcolm said.

  She glanced at him, then reached for his hand. Pride shown in his eyes and he gripped her hand.

  An enraged shriek rent the air. Sofia’s gaze shot toward the dungeon.

  Malcolm lunged in front of her, protecting her. She had to peer around his side. The Salem Coven stood within, all twelve of them. An unfamiliar witch, the High Priestess, Sofia assumed, stood in the middle. She raised her wand and threw a bolt of magical energy so strong that Sofia was lifted into the air and thrown out of the pit.

  She crashed to the ground, then scrambled to her feet. She was on the front lawn. Chaos reigned. Dust filled the air. Bodies and great stone blocks from the dungeon were scattered all around. Sofia looked around frantically for Malcolm and Kitty. Kitty stood atop an enormous pile of rubble, scratching at it.

  Dread settled in Sofia’s stomach. Malcolm was under there, she could feel it. Because he’d thrown himself in front of her.

  The moon lit a nightmarish scene as twelve of the thirteen members of the Salem Coven climbed out of the pit that their rescuers had blown into the ground.

  Shit. Twelve of them versus… She looked around frantically for her backup. The dark-haired soulceress and the blond man were climbing to their feet. Inara raced up to her side. The golden soulceress and Felix were nowhere to be seen.

  Four against twelve.

  No contest.

  She flung out her wand, sending a great jet of flame toward the witches climbing out of the pit. They fell back, shrieking, but would rise again soon enough.

  Sofia turned her wand toward the mansion and sent a jet of flame through the night. It blew apart the left side of the porch, sending flames licking up the side of the house.

  “Holy shit, yes,” Inara breathed, then drew her wand and threw another jet of flame at the house.

  “Light it up!” Sofia yelled. A distraction. A coven’s home was valuable. Grimoires and potions, wealth and history, all were within.

  The coven wouldn’t know whether to fight them or save their home.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the dark-haired soulceress pull the golden one from a pile of rubble. Their men charged from the dust, heading for the witches. A silver apparition of a wolf ran alongside Felix and the blond man carried a gleaming sword. As they clashed with the witches, the soulceresses appeared at Sofia’s side.

  “Can you destroy the house?” Sofia asked as she sent another blast of flame at the second story.

  “Not a problem,” the golden soulceress said.

  Sofia spun and raced toward the pile of rubble that covered Malcolm. Kitty still scratched at the stone that was piled as high as Sofia’s head. The witches must have blown out the entire dungeon, and Malcolm had caught the brunt of it.

  With a flick of her wand, she began to move the stones. Kitty jumped free. After a moment, she caught sight of Malcolm’s shirt. She raced to him and dropped to her knees.

  His torso was crushed, seeping blood.

  Fear shot through her, tearing a gasp from her throat. He lived, but barely. Only because he was an immortal. It wasn’t grievous magic or a beheading, so he would be okay. He had to be.

  She moved the rest of the rocks from his legs, then glanced at the battle. The soulceresses controlled a giant tornado that was tearing the house apart while Inara and the men held off the witches.

  “Time to go!” she screamed as she grasped Malcolm’s shoulders and aetherwalked them away.

  A second later, they appeared in the foyer of his home. Malcolm lay on the floor, ashen. His breath was shallow and harsh, straining through lungs that barely worked. Fear streaked through her, sending her heart racing.

  Oh fates, he lay here because he’d thrown himself in front of her. How many times would he do that?

  She couldn’t lose him. She couldn’t.

  Kitty watched Malcolm pensively as Sofia laid her hands on his chest and sent a burst of healing energy through him. She wasn’t technically a healer, but she’d learned how to magically mend bone and muscle from her mother. He would heal more slowly, but he would heal.

  He had to.

  He drew a deeper breath and she sagged in relief.

  A second later, two figures appeared in the hall. Then three more. Their saviors and Inara.

  Felix fell to his knees beside Malcolm. “Is he all right?”

  “I think.” Her voice trembled.

  Felix ran big hands over Malcolm’s chest and neck. He sagged. “He’ll be all right. He just needs to recover.” His gaze met hers. “You’re very powerful.”

  “Yes. More so because of Malcolm.” The power he’d given her had definitely enhanced her healing abilities. “We should get him somewhere comfortable.” She didn’t know when he’d wake, but she didn’t want it to be on the floor.

  Felix nodded and picked his brother up, then aetherwalked away. Sofia followed, assuming he went to the bedroom. When she arrived, she saw him put Malcolm on the bed.

  “Bad luck that he landed under all that rubble,” Felix said. “But he’ll b
e fine. He’s strong.”

  Sofia went to his side and laid her hand on his brow. Her heart ached to see him here like this.

  “You’re Sofia?” Felix’s silver eyes studied her. Whereas Malcolm was all elegant strength, he looked like a lumberjack.

  “You know about me?”

  “Only a bit. Malcolm spoke of you once, when he thought I couldn’t really hear him. ”

  “Really?”

  “He did. But it’s been over three hundred years and he hasn’t mentioned you again.”

  “No. I suppose not.”

  Felix sighed, pinched the bridge of his nose. “Malcolm was raised differently than I. With sorcerers instead of wulvers. They worshiped magic and power. Really worshiped it.” He spoke quickly, as if he wanted to get the words out before Malcolm woke.

  “Since he was a child, he has trained to be a warlock. It was like brainwashing. There was no other way for him. In the history of his people, no one had ever deviated. He couldn’t conceive of a world in which he didn’t pursue that path. As the years passed and he grew into a man, he broke free of the chains of his people’s expectations. But too late.”

  “I know all of this.”

  “He told you?”

  “Not in as much detail, but from what I’ve heard of his people and seen, it’s fairly obvious. But why did he tell you if he didn’t tell me? I know he wants my forgiveness. Or at least for me to get over the past and stay with him. He’s apologized, but never explained his perspective.”

  “He didn’t tell me. Not really. Once, when I was injured and out of my mind with pain, he talked and talked. I think he thought he was distracting me, but he was actually trying to distract himself from worrying about me. But over the years, I put two and two together. I understand what he is—what it means to be a warlock. That they’re Oath Breakers. That was enough to make me able to guess what happened between you.”

  “Why do you care?”

  “I have Aurora now.” His silver eyes darkened. “I know what it’s like to have lost the one you love. If I lost her again….” His jaw clenched. “I couldn’t handle it. I think that you are that person for Malcolm.”

  “If I am, why didn’t he explain this to me? Try harder to make me understand instead of just breaking my heart all those years ago?”

  “Would it have mattered? You’d hate him either way. Rightfully so.”

  “Yes.” Her fists clenched unconsciously. She felt for him, being torn between duty and desire, but everyone faced that at some point.

  “Exactly. And Malcolm is a man of action, not words. He committed the crime against you. Why try to fix it with words when it’s not possible? He’d apologize but not explain.”

  Sofia reached for Malcolm’s hand and squeezed it. She didn’t know what to think. What did it matter if he was a man of action when his actions had hurt her?

  Except that he was trying to be better now. And from the way her heart pounded and her thoughts clung to Malcolm, she was probably falling back in love with him.

  Falling in love with an Oath Breaker. As soon as this was over, she’d have to run from him. They couldn’t have anything real. Fate would see to it. She could die because of this. Laira had.

  “He came to me for help, you know,” Felix said.

  “Tonight?”

  “Yes, but earlier too. He knew this might be dangerous. That you were at risk. In the event that anything went south, he wanted back-up.”

  Sofia’s shoulders sagged. Malcolm had done that and hadn’t told her?

  Actions over words.

  “Why don’t you get a few hours of sleep,” Felix said. “We’ll stay here.”

  Fates, that sounded good. Exhaustion dragged at her. She just wanted to close her eyes and not think about any of this. “Inara has something she has to tell me. Something the witches knew.”

  “It can wait a few hours, can’t it? We’ll see to it that she stays here.”

  The lure of sleep was so strong that she nodded. She also didn’t think she could handle any more bad news right now. “Thanks. I really appreciate it.”

  Felix nodded and left the room.

  She was so lucky to have these people—although she didn’t even know most of them by name—willing to help her. Her gaze was drawn to Malcolm, lying still on the bed.

  Although their past had torn out her heart and he was at fault for their current predicament, she felt almost a little lucky to have him too. He had done everything in his power to protect her. He was lying to her because he’d tried to protect her. His theft of the dagger had gotten her into this mess, but if they could get out of it, she could almost forgive him for it.

  She knew it was a bad idea, but she climbed into bed next to him and curled up on top of the comforter. She reached out a hand and laid it on his shoulder. His warmth comforted her.

  Gods, she didn’t want any more reasons to care for him. She had too many as it was. On top of her memories, she now could accept that he’d essentially been brainwashed into becoming a warlock. Not to mention his constant attempts to save her life. He’d made terrible choices in the past—unforgivable choices, no matter his upbringing—but she was falling for him.

  She couldn’t help it.

  And it would be the end of her.

  Warmth suffused one side of Malcolm’s body. Sofia’s scent overwhelmed him. His eyes snapped open. Bright morning sun filtered through the mullioned windows. He glanced right.

  She lay curled up against his side, her dark hair gleaming in the light. She wore all her clothes—even her jacket. Dust covered it.

  The sight brought back a memory of the night before. The witches charging into the dungeon after Felix had busted through the wall. They’d thrown a blast of magic at them and then…

  Nothing.

  He remembered nothing after that.

  No doubt he’d been knocked out. Sofia had saved him? His brother?

  The questions were driven from his mind when she shifted, wrapping an arm around his waist.

  Satisfaction and comfort enveloped him. This is what he’d wanted all these years. Not just her body or her wit or her strength, but her constant companionship. When he’d first met her, he’d known without a doubt that he’d found his mate, a concept that had only been whispered about amongst his people.

  It’d been an entirely foreign notion for a boy raised by sorcerers. Not all sorcerers were like his clan, but he hadn’t realized that until he’d been far older. No one in his village had had a mate. It was impossible. They worshipped power to the point that becoming a warlock was the ultimate goal. The only goal.

  Most of the adults had been warlocks—unable to love another without fate tearing it from their grasp. That extended to children as well. Children were conceived and raised out of necessity, not love. The desire to pass on their line was strong amongst his people, as it was amongst Mytheans and mortals alike.

  He remembered being on a trip to the village with his friend Corbin as a boy. A street performer had been singing a ballad about love, a word he’d never even heard. Girls had been gazing at the singer, their eyes gleaming. He and Corbin had watched, completely perplexed. They’d only figured out the meaning of the word through context in the song. It’d barely made sense to him.

  Not until he’d met Sofia.

  And then he’d fucked things up.

  He shook the thought away. He would win her back. He had to.

  Sofia shifted.

  He glanced at her. Her eyes flew open, confused.

  He pulled her toward him and kissed her hard, then pulled away and leaned his forehead against hers. “Bloody hell, I was afraid I’d lost you.”

  She scrambled up until she sat next to him.

  “You’re all right.” There was relief in her voice. She reached out to touch his chest, then drew her hand away.

  “What happened?” he asked.

  The story she told of the Salem Coven made his brows rise. When she finished, he asked, “Everyone is here?”


  “I think so. Felix said they would stay. Inara has to tell us what the Salem Coven knows about me.” Worry flashed across her features. She climbed out of bed.

  He rose and his gaze followed her across the room. Kitty jumped off the chair by the fire and followed her.

  “I’m going to shower,” she said. “Then let’s all meet in the kitchen.”

  “Sofia,” he said as she went through the door. She turned to look at him. “Thank you for saving me.”

  Her brow creased. “Of course.” She turned and left.

  Malcolm scrubbed a hand across the back of his neck. Bloody hell, winning her was going to be hard. She was so skittish. He sighed, then headed to the shower.

  Fifteen minutes later, he headed down to the kitchen. His brother and Aurora were at the stove making bacon, from the smell of it. Esha and Warren were pouring coffee, her dark head bent near his blond one. Inara stood at the island, scooping scrambled eggs onto plates.

  Felix turned and asked, “Feeling better?”

  Malcolm nodded. “Thank you for coming to get us. All of you.”

  Esha lowered her cup from her mouth. “Not a problem. I enjoyed it. Nothing like a little battle.”

  “Aye. I don’t get out often enough,” Warren said.

  Sofia walked into the kitchen, Kitty trailing her.

  Aurora turned from the stove, her golden hair gleaming. “Morning. I’m Aurora.” She pointed at her sleek black familiar who sat at her side, gnawing on a piece of bacon. “That’s Mouse.”

  “I’m Esha.” She pointed at the big, scruffy tomcat who gazed longingly at Mouse. “That’s Chairman Meow.”

  “Warren.” He nodded at Sofia.

  “Nice to meet you,” Sofia said. “Thanks for getting us out of there.”

  “No problem,” Aurora said, then glanced at the stove. “Bacon’s done. Let’s eat.”

  They all collected plates and sat at the kitchen table.

  “My enchantment never worked, so why did you help us?” Malcolm asked Inara before he took a bite of food. It didn’t make any sense.

  “I had my reasons.”

  “You’re going to have to expound upon that,” he said.

  She sighed and put her fork down. “Or what?”

  “You won’t like the consequences.” Her knowledge might threaten Sofia. He’d stop at nothing to eliminate that threat.