by K. F. Breene
“Do not lay that spell, Sasha!” Toa commanded with strain in his voice, his face pale, his hands fisted. His legs wobbled where he stood, trying to balance magic and work it at the same time.
Charles stepped forward, but staggered in a wave of dizziness. Magic pulsed and pushed, yanking at him one minute and pushing the next, threatening to overcome him. Threatening to blast him with more than three times what he could safely handle.
“Include the Boss in this link—he can balance this,” Charles said through clenched teeth.
“Hurry, Toa,” Dominicous said, knuckles white around the hilt of his sword.
“She is working—something,” Toa replied with strain lancing his words. “She is laying intricacies she doesn’t understand. She is in survival mode.”
A male went down, rolling away. Three steps had the demon halving the distance to Sasha, faster than thought. Claws swinging.
Shit.
Charles staggered forward, skin on fire. Magic scored him like razor blades. Sweat drenched his face.
So this is what the warning stages of magic shock felt like. Now he knew why Sasha wanted to hold back more often than not.
“Almost…” Toa went down on one knee, yanking the magic away from Charles. Trying to keep it centered. Trying to split his focus. To play Superman.
Dominicous stepped forward with Stefan, shaky on his feet, ready to combat the demon regardless of the magical balance in which he teetered. Another roar shook the ground from the bear, followed by one from a massive tiger.
A quick wave of fear crossed the Boss’ face before determination rushed back in. He stepped toward Tim, cutting him off, trying to cover the hole he thought Tim would leave if he got scared and ran. As he did so, he left a gap…straight for Sasha. The creature saw it, saw her, right before Dominicous slid over, covering the path to her with his body.
“Focus, Stefan. Focus on her,” Dominicous yelled, somehow bracing for that galloping, clawed, grinning monster. Also playing Superman.
“She laid the spell.” Toa went down to his knees. He wavered, his brow dipping low over his eyes. Then his eyes closed. Hands met concrete.
The magic in the link whipped wildly, stabbing Charles before ripping away nearly completely. Then back. Toa hung his head, struggling for control. Struggling with a spell so intricate Charles was lost.
The demon lurched toward the Boss. Swirling magic sparkled along the Boss’ flexed arms, his sword at the ready. His eyes flashed excitement and wrath ready to be unleashed.
Before he could run forward to meet it, though, leaving Sasha open again, Jonas barreled through. Brawn and snarls, orange sword whirling, the crazy male slashed. The sword cut through the demon hide, eliciting a hissing snarl. A dagger blossomed out of nowhere, Jonas’ manic grin one to match that of the demon. Orange blazed and seethed around his arms, turning his body into a weapon. He slashed with them, raking the creature’s arm, ripping leathery skin off like peeling a banana.
Sasha stared straight ahead, as if she could still see the demon through a wall of males and fur. Sweat beaded her brow. Her breath came in fast pants. Her thumb stroked her whistle.
“Stefan…” she whispered.
Toa’s head bent, panting as well. Dominicous stepped forward to slash the creature but staggered, the magic pulsing in the link swung from one person to the other wildly.
Three wolves and a mountain lion vied for position, trying to close Sasha off. Jameson was there, fighting them back, keeping them from her, but also from the fight. Keeping himself from it as well.
“Fight together!” Charles screamed despite himself, his vision clouding, going dark. Pain screamed at him, stabbing then ripping away, leaving him dizzy in its wake.
Jonas was flung to the side, a gaping hole in his arm where a claw had gouged.
“Stefan…” Sasha pleaded.
“Get her out of here!” the Boss screamed, his sword flashing up, ready for the strike.
“Give her more magic!” Toa yelled back, on hands and knees. “She cannot disengage once the spell is laid. It is too intricate—”
“I can’t give to her and fight it off at the same time,” the Boss growled. “She’ll have no protection! I will trade my life for hers if needed.”
“Instead you’ll accomplish the opposite!” Toa’s head drooped, the magic whipping through the link in hard slashes, pounding Charles, then back toward Toa, then to Dominicous. Painful chaos.
The bear fought to get through. The demon bore down. The Boss’ sword came up, as fast as that thing, but before he could lope off an arm, its whole body convulsed.
Its screams cut off at exactly the same moment Sasha fell. Charles dropped his sword in order to catch her, only getting half her body in time, her face scraping the concrete. He cradled her in his arms, half falling on her in a wave of dizziness. He quickly checked for a pulse, his heart in his throat, barely able to see and not caring.
“C’mon, Sasha, be okay,” he prayed, his fingers finding the spot on her fragile neck. Her head lolled.
“We’ve disbanded it,” Toa said in a hiss, struggling to get up. And failing.
Charles glanced through the crack in bodies, his vision clearing in a wave as the link dissolved. To an oily black smear across the concrete. The burnt hair smell had turned into a smell of charred flesh.
“If it wasn’t for you, would she have made it?” Dominicous asked Toa, shaking like a tall building in an earthquake.
“I was able to cut it off around her spell. Had she had more power and energy, she would’ve disbanded it quickly and easily. She needed more energy. More power. Only one person could’ve supplied it—through a blood link.”
A beat in her neck pushed back at Charles’ fingers. He sighed in relief as Jonas came running up, blood gushing out of his arm. Behind him loped the huge tiger and a mountain lion.
“She needed you,” Toa accused the Boss, still not able to stand.
The Boss stared back, uncertainty warring his blank mask.
“If you won’t use your blood link, Stefan, you need to allow someone else to enact one. She cannot be this vulnerable again. You nearly killed her,” Toa pushed, anger contorting his face into something out of a nightmare.
“You have to figure out a way to link with her magically,” the Boss retorted.
“You think this is over?” Toa shot back, stunning everyone mute with his uncustomary animation. “There’ll be more demons. There’ll be more perils. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe in a week. Right now, you are her only hope. And you’ve failed once—what about the next time? What then? Will you let your pride kill her, or will you let someone else help her to live? A blood link is the only way!”
Charles barely had time to witness a flash of anxious defeat cross the Boss’ face before he was hobbling up with Sasha in his arms, Jonas helping him stand. He didn’t have time for the challenge that was sure to follow—Sasha wasn’t out of the woods yet.
Chapter 4
I was giving Toa a run for his money in the blank stare department. “I’m sorry, come again?”
Toa sat across from me in one of the many rooms in the mansion. Calm and unaffected, as normal, he was trying to convince me to gnaw on his vein. This, to him, was a perfectly normal request.
“With magic like yours, it is sometimes necessary to establish another blood link so you can acquire help in times of…stress,” Toa explained for the millionth time.
“You are creating the current times of stress, Toa.” I grimaced. The thought of drinking his blood was…revolting. Drinking blood period, when I logically thought about it, turned my stomach. But with Stefan it was intimacy so acute that I felt it the length of my body. It didn’t seem abnormal with him. Even the taste was sweet and earthy, pleasurable.
“No, Toa. Just…ew. No. And Stefan would flip.”
“Stefan has given his consent.”
My flat stare became incredulous. Toa’s stare never wavered. “Stefan gave his consent? Stefan. The guy that mad
e my bodyguard pee himself when he thought Charles might’ve laid a hand on me. That Stefan?”
“He realizes that his inaction nearly killed you the other night. You are the most precious thing in his life; it is not asking overmuch to secure your survival. He sees the value in what I propose. He is facing issues from his childhood that shaped him in both negative and positive ways. He’s latching onto the negative, clouding his judgment. He has realized this—he is an excellent leader to have done so. It now becomes your obligation to follow through. When he can’t help you magically, you will need to turn to another.”
“And that’s you? So you’re going to what, shadow me the rest of my life?”
“We could’ve lost you, Sasha. Your father, this clan, and our entire organization would’ve suffered. We need to take steps to prevent that.”
“Okay,” I waved my hand like I was swishing away flies. “You can cut out the lecture tone and talk normally. You don’t have to be all professional about it.”
“That is exactly what this is—a professional arrangement. You share a very soft link with Dominicous. He is family. Would it be so strange if you extended that link with the person who shares his blood link?”
“Yes. It would.”
We were back to the stare-off. Those ice blue eyes held mine serenely, his hands clasped in his lap. I wouldn’t be surprised if he asked for a cup of tea next with a pretty little flowery cup and a saucer.
Still…I had to concede that it had been a close call. I’d been out for two days, so near the brink that only Stefan’s blood could revive me. If Toa hadn’t disbanded that demon just in time, I wouldn’t be sitting here right now. He had saved my life, and now asked to have an easier way to do it in the future.
My stomach turned for a different reason. I hated that Toa was right. That I’d needed Stefan’s help with that demon, and he wouldn’t supply it. Worse, since that night, three nights ago, he’d been distant. Fear, uncertainty and guilt washed through the link constantly, his emotions raging from one thing to the other even though his face stayed perfectly blank. That demon had triggered old wounds, and now he was trying to shut me out.
But sucking blood from the guy in front of me was a bit extreme. Plus, in what world did I want Toa to feel all my emotions? I might be able to figure out how to cut them off without simultaneously cutting off Stefan’s, but I’d still feel what Toa was feeling.
Yuck. No way.
I shook my head. “Why didn’t Stefan talk to me about this? He doesn’t just give up control.”
“As I said, he does not like it, but he does see the value in it. I doubt he wanted to show his weakness by admitting his inabilities.”
“You people and your fear of weakness.” I blew out a frustrated breath. “Look, either we need to find a different way to share magic, or we just won’t. This has gone too far into insanity-ville.”
Toa maintained his patient tone as he said, “Stefan is sacrificing on a personal level so that you may have some assurance. Some safety. Will you spit in his eye by refusing?”
Lead settled into my body. The one thing I didn’t want to do was let Stefan down for any reason. He’d constantly backed and supported me, sacrificed for me, taken the hard road to stay with me. I owed him some discomfort if it meant he’d rest easier.
I recommenced the stare off, assessing. I really didn’t want to. I really, really didn’t.
“I’m not convinced he approved this,” I muttered.
“What does the link tell you?”
Guilt rode through it heavily, laden with a sense of failure. My heart dropped. He did know. He was sacrificing his dignity, allowing others to see that he couldn’t provide for me as he ought, in order to keep me safe. This was terrible, but it was what he wanted.
I shook my head, trying to think of a way out of this. And failing.
Chapter 5
Stefan sat in the early morning light at the back of the mansion, breathing the fresh air to calm himself. The link with Sasha had winked out a half hour before. He’d felt her doubt, and then she’d muffled their tie, something she did when she was uncomfortable with his presence. It didn’t take a genius to know why.
After another fifteen minutes he heard her soft, even pace behind him, making her way to the stone bench on which he sat. He tried not to hunch in on himself as she settled quietly beside him. She didn’t touch him as she usually did—not even a glance of the arm.
“So…” She stared out at the budding day, the trees swaying in the chilly breeze of the morning. “You’re under the impression I need to share emotion-space with Sir Stares-A-Lot, huh?”
His intestines felt like crawling snakes. “I let you down, Sasha. You could’ve died.”
“True. I could’ve died a few times since I met you. I’ve been overextending my whole magical life. And you’ve always been there to pick up the pieces. I trust you, Stefan. I trust that. You’ve always kept me safe.”
“Not this time.”
“To err is human. Even though, you know, you’re not actually human. Look, Stefan…tell me what’s wrong. Confide in me. Don’t just pawn me off on some blondie vampire look-alike because you’re too chicken to open up to your future mate. Please.”
“I just…” How did you tell the love of your life that you weren’t worthy of her? That you were a coward. That the male she pledged her life to could not provide for her.
His body hunched.
“Hey,” she whispered, swinging her leg over his and sitting on his lap, facing him. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pulled his face into her neck. “I know why you did it, okay? I know it was something to do with your parents. It’s okay to be afraid, Stefan. We can’t be hard all the time. If you can’t admit it to me, you’ll end up brittle. You don’t have to hide that stuff from me.”
He shook his head again, emotion he’d been pushing down since he was young bubbling to the surface. “I can’t,” he pleaded.
“Tell me what happened,” she whispered. “To your parents. Confide in me.” She hugged him tighter, combing her fingers through his hair. Soft support. Unconditional love such that he could barely remember.
Before he could help himself, it was all tumbling out.
He’d been sitting in the living room as the sun sprinkled through the windows. The knock at the door had echoed down the empty hall. He’d opened it to Jestin, one of the warriors that fought regularly with Stefan’s father, scratched and beaten to hell. His face warred with death and sorrow. Lead had settled deep in Stefan’s young chest, then, struggling with the dread he’d felt as he read the defeat in Jestin’s eyes. The loss.
“Jestin was the only one who lived,” Stefan heard himself say. The words sounded hollow. “Two humans called a demon up on the territory line. We were tight with the Mata at that time, sharing the coverage of patrolling that line. The demon was a strong one—very strong. It dominated, then killed, those who had called it. The Mata, with some of our clan, were supposed to provide the first layer of defense while a team of magic workers tried to cut it down. Tried to banish it.”
Stefan shook his head, his body quivering under the petite body of his beloved. “That thing ripped through three people in a split second. Just as the clan was scrambling, trying to get control, the Mata took off. Most of the first layer of defense ran like cowards. My father, a fierce fighter and the Second of the clan, did what he could to organize his men, but they weren’t enough. Not after the Mata had fled. The magic circle was working on it, but that demon took down the line in record time, my father fighting a good fight, but…
“My mother was a green. She had intricate abilities with magic, so she always worked the spells in a Merge with the backing of a few powerful magic users. She couldn’t fight—not with the responsibility of casting a spell to take that thing down. She stood where she was, resolute, as, one by one, everyone got chopped down around her. She suffered a hit right before the spell did its job. That thing cut out her midsection. It cut out my
unborn sister. Jestin said that when she hit the ground, she was dead. As was the fetus.”
Sasha squeezed him hard. Fire burned away his insides, remembering the day he’d heard he was going to be a brother. He was going to be the big protector—his sister’s own personal guard unit. His dad had given him a male-to-male talk about the seriousness of his new duty—he would have to be steadfast to her and keep her safe from any danger. His father handed him this personal mission, the responsibility of a grown male.
At the time, Stefan had felt like the most powerful male alive.
It had all been torn away, along with his parents, with each word out of Jestin’s mouth.
“Every time I think of a demon,” Stefan purged quietly, “I think of losing everything. What if the Mata had stayed? The group would’ve taken some losses, yes. That thing was manic. I might’ve lost one parent, but my mom would’ve been protected. She would’ve made it. I would have a sister. I wouldn’t be so damn alone…”
Pain heaved, trying to rip free from the casing he’d stored it in all these years. “I can’t protect you, Sasha,” he admitted. “I let them die. I should’ve been there. I was old enough to help. I was already orange by then—orange magic would’ve helped.”
Something inside him broke. His inadequacy of that day raged to the surface, merging with the inadequacy from three days ago.
He didn’t know how he’d continue if he lost her. She’d become the most important thing in his life. He would give up everything for her—his clan, his life—everything. And even though every fiber of his person recoiled at the thought of sharing her, if it kept her alive through his failings, then it was worth the torture of knowing another male had a claim on her. He would make sure she lived at all costs; he had no one else but her.
He dug his face into the sweet-smelling skin of her neck and let it all go. Clutching onto her like a lifeline, he purged the fears of losing her, the loneliness of all those years, the desolation after hearing the news spilling out in childlike sobs.
