by Nadine Mutas
“My pleasure.”
“Don’t touch them, though.”
“What if they touch me?” He waggled his brows.
“No.”
“Not even a little rubbing?”
“Bahram.”
He heaved a sigh. “All right.”
Satisfied the incubus had the situation under control, Merle turned to Tallak and Basil. “Let’s go.”
Tallak took point, Merle ran in the middle, and Basil brought up the rear. They entered the house unimpeded, the wards already taken down by Hazel and the others. Inside, they were greeted by chaos.
The fight raged in all rooms, spells flying everywhere, singeing furniture and walls, blasting apart lamps and picture frames. It was hard to figure out what was happening where and who was doing what, so much smoke and magic clouded the air. Merle thought she saw Lily and Alek in the salon to the left, fighting in a whirl of otherworldly-quick martial arts moves and slashing blades, and maybe Madhuri Gupta and Kristen Frost facing off with three Draconians in the room to her right.
Basil fired off arrows and used his shapeshifting ability to temporarily confuse some of Juneau’s witches by turning into one of theirs while he moved up the staircase. Unfazed by the chaos, Tallak ran after Basil, and hurled some charms of his own, apparently completely familiar with witch power due to his stolen memories.
And Merle ran like hell, dodging spells and throwing some prepared magical grenades while trying to make her way to the door of the basement at the back of the hall.
The sounds of witches—Draconians—coming directly toward her made her leap behind a large armchair. She was out of grenades, and had nothing else to throw.
The two witches dashed past, and she wanted to move out from behind the chair as the door to the basement flew open, and Hazel ran out, followed by Hanna and Elaine—who steadied Rhun between them.
Merle’s heart seized. He looked dreadful, beaten up and bloodied and too sluggish for his lean, powerful body.
Rage a storm in her veins, she vowed to make Juneau pay for every minute he suffered at the Draconians’ hands.
She was about to run to his side, help carry him out, when a flash of white caught her eye. Unnoticed by Hazel, who gave Hanna, Elaine, and Rhun cover from the witches coming at them from the front, the head of the Laroche family had appeared in the doorway just behind them.
Juneau hissed a word and flicked her hand, and Hazel cried out and collapsed. While Hanna blocked a spell from the two other Draconians, Juneau struck again, her face twisted into an expression of horrifying madness. Rhun screamed and convulsed so hard he pulled Elaine down with him as he crashed to the floor.
Hanna barely disentangled herself from Rhun’s grasp in time to avoid going down as well, but the moment of inattention cost her. A spell by one of the approaching Draconians hit her just as she sent out a wave that made the other two witches stumble and fall. Hanna made a muffled sound of anguish, and crumpled to the floor.
Another spell of Juneau’s slammed into Elaine just as she crawled out from under Rhun, and the head of the Donovan family slumped down again.
Holy hell, no.
While Hazel rose on shaky legs, the other three were out of commission, but breathing. At least the two Draconians lay motionless a few feet away…but right now, it was only Hazel facing off with Juneau.
And the blood trickling down from Hazel’s nose didn’t bode well.
Juneau raised her hands, which glowed with gathering magic the taste of which hinted at death, and smiled grimly at the group.
And Merle made a split-second decision. If she didn’t step in they would all die. Hazel, Elaine, Hanna…Rhun. Chaos still reigned in the rest of the house, and no one would come in time to stop Juneau.
“Into hunger, pain, and darkness, hidden from the light,” Merle whispered, calling up her magic, her focus on Juneau, who stood only feet away from her but hadn’t noticed Merle’s presence, “I bind thee in the Shadows, in never-ending night.”
Juneau gasped, jerked, her eyes bulging. The first line of the spell was already enough to paralyze her, giving Merle time to finish the verse.
“Leashed and helpless, thou shalt pine,” she continued in a whisper. “Held ever after by the magic of my line.”
Swirling, writhing darkness rose up from the floor, snapping at Juneau’s feet, twining around her legs. The stygian mist covered her body as if intending to devour her. The last image Merle saw of the witch before the Shadows took her was her face frozen in horror and pain.
And then nothing in the place where Juneau stood just seconds ago.
A moment, a heartbeat of shock at what she’d just done, and then Merle dashed over to her friends, to Rhun.
“Merle!” Hazel whirled toward her as she spotted her running over. The Elder witch had to steady herself on the wall, her breath uneven. “What are you doing here?”
“Settling a score,” Merle replied grimly, glancing at the spot where the Shadows had taken Juneau.
Rhun groaned in that moment, and everything fell away, dissolved into insignificance as Merle crouched by his side.
“Rhun,” she whispered, stroking his blood-matted hair. “I’m here. We’re getting you out. It’s all over.”
“I was just,” he rasped, “getting cozy down there.”
“Hush.” She kissed him, not caring a bit about the blood on his face, her cheeks and mouth wet with tears.
Elaine stirred and grimaced. Hazel helped her to her feet, assessed the scene quickly, and knelt next to Hanna, holding her shaky hands over the other witch’s body.
A moment passed, then Hazel balled her hands to fists. “She’s gone.”
Merle clenched her jaw, her throat burning. Godsdammit.
With a shuddering breath, Hazel closed Hanna’s eyes, whispered, “Travel well.”
“Downstairs all clear,” Lily yelled from the living room.
Basil came thundering down the stairs, followed by his father. “Upstairs is clear too.”
Elaine, who had gone to check the kitchen and the back rooms, nodded, her face not as pale anymore as a few minutes ago. “All Draconians present here are either dead or incapacitated.” With a disdainful look at the witches lying on the floor, she added, “With Juneau gone, they might come around. Some of us should stay and make sure they get a good talking-to.”
Hazel glanced at Elaine. “Can you do that? I’d like to go with Merle and Rhun, make sure he’ll be all right.”
The head of the Donovan family nodded. “I think I’ll rather enjoy cleaning up this mess.”
“Let’s go,” Merle said. “Thank you, Elaine—let’s talk later.”
Together with Hazel, Merle helped Rhun stumble outside, Tallak and Basil in their wake, Alek and Lily joining them too. Bahram straightened from his lazy slouch against the car when he saw Rhun.
“Damn, man,” he said, “you look almost as bad as that one time you asked a puma shifter if he uses a litter box or a toilet.”
Rhun’s mouth twitched up. “It was a legit question.”
Bahram came over, indicating to Merle and Hazel that he’d take him from here. Putting one shoulder under Rhun’s arm, he clapped him on the other shoulder. “I’m glad you made it out.”
Bahram hauled Rhun to Basil’s car parked a few blocks away, put him in the back seat, and walked toward his own car to follow them. Merle slipped in next to Rhun, Basil sitting down behind the wheel. With Tallak in the front passenger seat, Hazel opted to drive her own car back to the mansion, Alek and Lily taking Alek’s truck.
Rhun leaned his blood-streaked head back on the seat. “Did you really send Juneau into the Shadows?”
“Death would have been too nice for her.”
“I always knew you were a feisty witch.” Dark appreciation in his tone, affection pulsing through their mating bond.
She took his hand, her heart heavy despite the joy of having him back. I drew on outside magic to weave that spell, she said mind-to-mind to Rhun.
He met her gaze, the knowledge in his eyes stark. How much?
She swallowed. I don’t know if it’ll be enough to warrant a payback.
He twined his fingers with hers, silent, because there were no other words to be said. They both knew the stakes, knew the impossible choice she had to make, and its probable consequences.
If the magic she tapped caused the Powers That Be to demand payback, she’d lose the baby.
Chapter 38
Magic clashed in the sky as Arawn collided with the dragon again and again. Smaller his eagle form might be, but his power still matched that of the beast, and the essence of their battle was of the non-physical kind.
Time and again, he tried to take off and head toward his territory, toward that spot where he saw lightning strike down out of the corner of his eye, but the dragon thwarted every attempt to break away. Roaring, it launched itself at him, a wave of primeval magic making the air wobble, the world groaning on its hinges.
He narrowly escaped the giant claws, executed a deft move to turn in mid-air when a huge shadow slammed into the dragon, took it down toward the mountain. A flash of golden feathers and fur, followed by a feral screech.
The griffin.
Breathing hard, Arawn whirled around, wanting to make for his territory now the dragon was distracted.
Lightning on the slope of the mountain.
His heart stopped as his senses picked up her presence, the bond between them pulsing with her nearness. Again, he whirled around in the air, only this time, he shot toward the volcano. Toward Maeve.
He could make out Velez, who was holding her pressed tight to his body. Red tinged Arawn’s sight, primal instincts swamping him, demanding he tear the other male to pieces.
He slammed down on the ground in an explosion of power that rocked the mountain, disturbing the ash around him until it created a whirlwind storm of white and gray and black. His magic writhed and clawed, ready to snap and rip.
“Ah,” Velez said genially. “There you are. So glad you can join our party. I brought a guest.”
He squeezed Maeve’s waist, making her whimper. Her amber-gray eyes wide, she stared at Arawn, and the sight of her in Velez’s grasp was enough to want to make him raze the world. His power built to a crescendo of brute force.
Velez clucked his tongue. “Come now. You know as well as I do that you cannot use your magic against me. Not with her so near. Not when she is still in such a lovely mortal form.” He pressed her closer again and gave her a smack on her cheek.
Arawn snarled, fury raking across his nerves—because Velez was right.
“Anything less than an attack at full force will have no effect on me, brother. Going full tilt, however, would kill her human form at this proximity.” He pursed his lips. “Such a dilemma.”
“Let her go, and I will let you leave.”
Velez laughed. “And why would I do that when she is my best bargaining chip? Really, the nerve of you.” He shook his head. “See, I was wondering how I could gain your cooperation. Was thinking I would threaten to turn your entire dominion and all its inhabitants to ash. I do have a dragon now, after all.” He winked.
Said dragon still battled it out with the griffin in the skies above, causing tremors to shake the air and the ground, sending waves of buzzing, jolting magic over the mountain.
“But then,” Velez went on, “a little birdie told me there is something you value even more than your territory, someone you care for more than for your power.” He stroked over Maeve’s hair, and Arawn wanted to stick that hand in a shredder and turn it into mincemeat. “She really is special. Seems like she has been through a lot.” He grimaced. “It would be so unfortunate if I ripped out the beast inside her and killed her in the process.”
“Do that, and I will hunt you to the ends of the earth, and hack you into little pieces while you are conscious, then let you heal to do it all over again. For eternity.”
“Hm.” A cold, cold smile. “You do care a lot about her. So you might actually consider my second offer. See, the first one was better, but—alas—you refused, and now it is off the table.” He shrugged. “If you want her to live, all I need in return is a binding pledge of servitude—in blood.”
Arawn barked a harsh laugh. “You want me to bend the knee to you?”
“Since that would make sure you do not stand in my way, and has the lovely side effect of me gaining control over your dominion and the impressive network of favor-bound creatures you built, yes, I want you to bow to my will.”
Maeve stirred in Velez’s grasp, struggling against his magic. “No,” she choked out. “Don’t.”
Arawn met her shimmering eyes, fire and smoke and a passion burning so deep, so true, it was the purest thing he’d ever touched in his life. If her flame were to be snuffed…no other light should be permitted to shine. And while he would have fought a sky full of gods to keep her—if he had to shred his honor, his pride, his soul to make sure she survived, he would do so.
He would even do what he had never, in all the millennia he had lived, dreamed of doing.
“All right,” Arawn said to Velez—and went down on one knee.
Maeve fought against the insidious power holding her immobile. To no avail. She wasn’t strong enough. How could she be, when she didn’t even have access to her magic, or the beast lurking inside her?
Again, she turned inside, tried to reach the ancient force in her core. If only she could call it forth, then Velez would lose his leverage—when she was the one who commanded the beast out, she’d survive.
It should be so easy. The spell was dissolved, nothing should keep that beast in there anymore. Why wasn’t it coming out? Why isn’t this easy?
She gritted her teeth and called on the beast again. Come out. I want you out.
Darkness and silence and the weight of her failure. She was too weak, wasn’t she? The one thing she should be able to do, the one power she had—and she couldn’t manage it.
The impact of her abject incompetence was like a blow to her guts.
This was her reality, though, wasn’t it? Always too weak, always dependent on others to protect her. The one time she dared move out of her family’s home and take charge of her life, she was kidnapped and tortured and raped. Because she wasn’t strong enough to fend for herself.
Filled to the brim with ancient power, and yet unable to use it to protect herself. She didn’t know whether to cry or to laugh. Both?
And even now she couldn’t call that beast forward, even now it failed her—but it was active enough to kill her family, wasn’t it? Important enough that she was abducted and tortured because others wanted to harness the immense power waiting quietly in her core.
Those damn powers, that damn beast… How could she ever truly embrace them when they brought her nothing but pain and loss and scars?
She couldn’t. A simple and shattering truth.
Slumping in Velez’s grip—which didn’t change her position at all, since he’d paralyzed her—she choked back a sob, crushed by the weight of her despair, and listened with rising horror while Velez laid out his nefarious plan.
He wanted Arawn to submit to him, wanted him to make a binding pledge of allegiance to Velez, and thereby hand him the power over Arawn and his dominion. Holy hell. If Arawn surrendered, if Velez was given that sort of power…
The world would drown in blood.
But Arawn would never agree to it. It went against his very nature to submit to anyone, to give up the power he’d been gathering back over thousands of years, to hand over the dominion he built with painstaking effort. He wouldn’t throw all of that away just for her.
As well he shouldn’t, not for someone who was so fucking weak.
“I want you to bow to my will,” Velez said.
Her heart stumbled when she saw the shift in Arawn’s expression, as if he was…actually considering it.
“No,” she choked out past the magic holding her in place. “Don’t.”
<
br /> Arawn met her pleading look, the forest green of his eyes in stark contrast to the glowing red of the lava flowing down the mountainside—and the love shining in those green depths pierced her heart, her soul.
“All right,” he said to Velez, and went on his knee.
“No!” Maeve struggled again, threw herself against the power encasing her.
Velez clutched her even more tightly. “You will bind yourself to me in blood and submit?”
“Yes.”
Her pulse raced, stampeded through her like a maddening drumbeat that stole her breath. She couldn’t let this happen. She couldn’t let him submit. Not Arawn. He was hers.
Something roared inside her, and it wasn’t the beast.
Closing her eyes, she dove deep, deep, deep, and driven by the explosive mix of fear, love, protectiveness, and sheer teeth-gritting will, she rushed past the shards of the broken spell, past the pain and the shame and the resentment, the agony of accepting the fact she killed and maimed her family, past the fear of a power she had no idea how to handle, to the beast…
…trapped in a cage of her own making.
She’d kept it in there. By not fully embracing it, by resenting it for the bloody trail of pain it had left in her life. It hurt to acknowledge it. It ripped her raw to reach out and touch the force that was responsible for the death of her mom and Moira, for mentally crippling her dad. For causing her to be kidnapped and tortured.
It fucking hurt, but she reached out through that pain, reached out to the beast, for the first time in her life.
Come forth, she whispered, her heart gentle and open. I want you with me.
The ancient presence uncoiled and stretched in the darkness. I have been waiting for you, it whispered back.
And then it lunged at her, in a flash of fire and ash, and the world lit up in an atomic blaze.
“You will bind yourself to me in blood and submit?”
Arawn glared at Velez. “Yes.”
His erstwhile brother smiled and held out his hand. “Do it, then.”
Arawn’s attention flicked back to Maeve, who was shuddering in Velez’s grasp—more than before. Something was wrong. Pulses of deep emotions reached him across the bond, a maelstrom of feelings he couldn’t figure out.
