Witchlock

by Sherrilyn Kenyon

  Yes, it was something with deep sentimental value, but his father had taught him to care for people, not things.

  He traced a finger over what was left of the ruined piece of art and swallowed hard, trying to let go of how much he cared for this buckle.

  The silver and diamonds meant nothing to Storm, only that it was a tangible reminder of his dad.

  It might be easier to let go of his anger if Storm believed it had been an accident, but the gargoyle had snuck in here and taken his belt out of the bedroom.

  One of the diamonds was still in place, staring at him like a macabre, one-eyed mask.

  Storm had to get out of here and clear his mind.

  Evalle's empathic gift was not as strong as his, but she would know what he was feeling. Even he couldn't hide his anger right now and the longer he stayed here the more it would upset her.

  His phone buzzed.

  He checked the text from Tzader: I need you to go over what happened with hunting the troll killer. It would be simpler if we did it at headquarters. No point in bringing Evalle out during daylight. You can relay any new information to her.

  At least now Storm had a reason to leave. That had to be better than saying he needed some air to clear his head. He sent back an affirmative.

  Then Tzader added: Quinn's on his way to headquarters and wanted to know if you would bring Lanna with you.

  Storm replied: Yes.

  He stuffed the belt and his clothes back into the duffel and left it in the corner, then grabbed his leather jacket and shrugged it on.

  When he reached the living room, Evalle was still walking and humming to Feenix, who'd snuggled even closer.

  Storm asked Lanna, "What do you need to do before you're ready to go?" Storm glanced at Evalle then looked away. "I've got to leave for a bit."

  Evalle swung around to watch both of them. "Why?"

  "Tzader texted me about coming into headquarters and asked if I'd bring Lanna. Quinn will meet us there."

  Lanna gave Evalle a smug look. "I told you Cousin was back." Then she picked up the handle of an old rolling suitcase. "I am packed."

  Evalle eyed Storm. "I didn't get a telepathic message, but Tzader texted you?"

  He could see how that might not sit well with her. "Because he needs me to debrief everyone on the troll killer hunt."

  "I'll go with you." Evalle started toward the bedroom and Feenix's wings flapped quickly. She stopped and patted him again.

  Maybe getting out of the way would help her calm Feenix down, too.

  Storm added, "Tzader said it wasn't necessary for you to come out in daylight to make this meeting since I can catch you up on anything when I get back."

  "Did he specifically say not to bring me?"

  "No, but he just doesn't want to have you travel in daylight when you don't have to." Why was she being so edgy about this? He'd think she would be glad to avoid the sun and headquarters, which meant interacting with Sen.

  Hell, Storm would just as soon pass on this meeting.

  "Fine."

  He hated that word. It was the most dangerous word in the female language. "What's wrong?"

  She glared at him.

  What had he said wrong?

  Evalle glanced at Lanna, then back at Storm. He got it. They had an audience. There was nowhere for a private conversation unless he cast a spell to protect their words, which he didn't have the time for right now even if Evalle looked receptive, which she didn't.

  He had a stop to make before he went to headquarters, and that stop had become even more important now.

  He grabbed his keys off the counter, causing them to jangle.

  Feenix lifted his head at the sound and looked from the keys to Storm's face. Feenix hadn't touched silver keys that had been left out in the kitchen, yet he'd gone for Storm's belt in the bedroom.

  Evalle cleared her throat and said, "Don't forget the other diamond."

  Storm picked it up only because he didn't know if it would bother her more if he left it sitting there. He had never questioned his instincts around Evalle, but at the moment he was off balance and didn't like it. "I'll be back in time to pick you up and meet Adrianna."

  She gave a wooden nod.

  He stepped over to her, but on the opposite side of where Feenix had dropped his head onto her shoulder. Storm gave her a long kiss on her forehead and whispered, "Get some more rest, okay?"

  "Right."

  Another curt answer. He couldn't do anything about this until he managed to take the strain off Evalle and that wouldn't happen by him staying around right now. "Call me if you need anything."

  "If I do, I'll send a message to Tzader since you'll be with him."

  He started to say something, but she tipped up her chin in challenge. Evalle didn't deal with emotions well and being uncomfortable made her combative.

  Much like a cornered animal.

  He hated that he was the cause of more anxiety.

  She added in a flat voice, "Just flip the switch that activates the power for the elevator. I took the warding off the controls when we came in last night so that you could leave when you wanted."

  Storm closed his eyes for a minute at the turbulent emotion beneath her last words.

  ...you could leave when you wanted.

  She'd designed a complicated, warded security system that involved a constantly changing code to prevent anyone or anything from accessing the elevator. That would be no problem for Storm if not for requiring the ability to manipulate the lock with kinetic power, which he did not possess.

  He'd joked that she could build one hell of a prison.

  She hadn't caught the joke.

  He would fix this mess as soon as he returned. The sooner he left and handed off Lanna then made his report, the sooner he could get back here. With Lanna gone, he'd have an easier time talking to Evalle.

  Lanna walked to the door, keeping track of every word said and not said. She started to speak and Storm shook his head, pointing for her to leave. She sighed and obeyed his silent order.

  When Storm reached the door, Evalle still had her back to him.

  Feenix watched Storm over her shoulder. The gargoyle patted Evalle while keeping his gaze pinned on Storm and saying, "Mine."

  Evalle hugged him back. She probably thought Feenix had been speaking to her. "Yes, I'm yours baby."

  But Storm and Feenix both knew for whom that message had been intended.

  That gargoyle may not know a lot of words, but he knew the power words when it came to Evalle.

  Feenix pfft quietly in Storm's direction and a puff of smoke curled from his snout.

  Storm shut the door and caught up to Lanna.

  He knew for sure that he could straighten out this tension between him and Evalle, but he had no idea what to do about Feenix's territorial behavior.

  How did you have a conversation with a gargoyle that had the vocabulary of a three-year-old child?

  But Feenix was far wiser than a child.

  And that little critter meant the world to Evalle. Storm was the last person who would ever separate them or be the cause of conflict between those two. He definitely did not want to put Evalle in a position of having to choose between him and Feenix.

  She'd been put through enough in her life.

  He wanted her as relaxed and happy as she'd been the last night they'd made love in the backyard of his Midtown house.

  He should have realized the turmoil he'd cause her by moving in when she'd never lived with anyone, not even a family.

  They hadn't discussed it.

  He'd spent hours making love to Evalle that night outside, because he hadn't wanted to take her around the taint the witch doctor had left inside.

  Evalle invited him to move in with her, and all he could think about was finally being able to keep her close all night long. Or all day long. He didn't give a damn as long as he could hold her and love her the way she deserved to be loved.

  But his presence was creating discord in
the one place that had served as her safe haven before he showed up. She loved with her whole being and she'd suffer in silence before uttering a word of complaint.

  She deserved to be happy in her own home.

  He would make sure that happened.

  Castle KievRus, Ukraine

  Chapter 12

  Veronika lifted the hood of her signature red robe and let it fall behind her. She studied Tegus Bilguun, the twenty-six-year-old, male sorcerer draped spread-eagle against the gray stone wall in the dungeon of her family's Ukraine castle. Chains anchored to the wall secured his wrists and ankles so that he hung a foot off the floor, wearing only jeans. With blond hair, aristocratic nose and chin, plus amber-gold eyes, the man gave her an attractive view.

  This castle was one of six similar holdings in different parts of Europe, and her ancestors had lived here for over a thousand years, but they hadn't built this structure.

  Her bloodline came from that of royalty, not laborers.

  Her ancestors had also been a bunch of bleeding hearts, but she hadn't been born with that affliction.

  "Who the hell are you?" the sorcerer yelled when he realized he was no longer alone.

  "Veronika of the KievRus coven."

  "There's no such coven. My family would know."

  "We have been in existence since the ninth century."

  "Sorry, but I'm not a history fan. Give me back my cellphone and I'll look it up. Oh, that's right, I won't be able to hold anything again after you fucked up my hands!" he screamed. He tried to move his hands, then gasped in pain. "You will so pay for this, bitch. Your death will be slow and painful."

  "I think not," she answered, stating the obvious. She'd had his hands sandwiched between boards, then drilled all the way through with half-inch bolts holding them encased. Blood still dripped from between the boards, running down stones that had been cut and placed many centuries ago.

  This dungeon had held other powerful beings in the past, but none so significant as this sorcerer.

  She'd have preferred for Tegus to be free to use his hands, because that would provide a true test of her powers. But she couldn't risk having miscalculated her progress and allow him to harm her.

  Her window of time narrowed with each day.

  He shouted, "What do you want?"

  "You'll be the first to become part of the greatest power ever seen in this world, which will rise again very soon."

  Blood drizzled faster down the wall when he banged the wood against the stones with his struggles.

  She informed him, "You only hurt yourself. You can't destroy the wood slats. That wood will not catch fire or break, short of Thor striking it with his hammer."

  This sorcerer might be young, but just one flick of his fingers could kill.

  Even something as simple as the right combination of words could be used as a weapon.

  She should know.

  At the age of six, she'd stopped the heart of her family's pet wolfhound, even though she'd misspoken the words given to her by an old crone who knew Veronika would be the one to revive the KievRus. So often, it was the intention that really counted in a spell.

  The family had warned her against testing her majik as the time for Witchlock drew close, but she would not be careless in these tests.

  Tegus spit out a slew of derogatory remarks. Words to shield his pain and save his pride. When he wore himself down, he yelled, "Use my blood for a curse and my family will find you. When they do, they'll wipe whatever KievRus you claim still live from the face of this world."

  He thought she intended to use his blood to fuel a spell?

  She was no dark witch who wasted her time on such things. That was for those who lacked vision for witchcraft. Those covens were no better than the mealy-mouthed white witches who refused to dirty their hands with dark arts. No, Veronika had known her destiny from the moment she'd read the history of the original KievRus coven.

  Her people would never fear retribution or betrayal again.

  She would see that day.

  As the only person of this generation who could restore the KievRus coven to its former glory, she could afford no mistakes. The time was nearing for when she'd be gifted with the power of Witchlock, but she had much to do before that moment.

  She kept the sphere tucked close inside the deep sleeves of her robe. Withdrawing her empty hand, she pointed a finger at Tegus.

  Power vibrated in the room.

  "Don't be a fool. My family will retaliate!" he shouted, though the sound had been reed thin and hurting. His words were losing punch. He rasped, "You can kill me, but you'll never live to enjoy a moment of whatever you're trying to do."

  Tucking her hand back inside the sleeve of her other arm, she smiled. "I'm not going to kill you. At least, that's not my goal."

  He squinted, frowning at her, then shook his head. "Then more the fool you are, because I will rain down terror upon you and your family the second I am free."

  "No one can find my family. They've hidden from your kind, and from mundanes, since the time when your ancestors tried to destroy our coven."

  He stopped cursing her and stared with profound confusion. "What are you talking about?"

  "You really should study your family history. In the thirteenth century, Mongols captured Kievan Rus here in Ukraine. One of our own betrayed us, intending to become the harlot queen of the Mongolian ruler, but he was wise enough to put her to death once she'd served her purpose. Before that happened, she told him how her coven had used our majik to manipulate events and would use their power against him if our people found him to be an unfit ruler. Your Bilguun grandfather, many times over, led a group of soldiers to behead my entire coven." They killed three family members before the rest of the coven found out and dealt with the soldiers.

  "You have got to be kidding. That was eons ago. What is this? A replay of the Montagues and Capulets?"

  "Hardly, as I am no one's Juliet. Certainly not yours."

  "What do you know? I agree with you on something." He sucked in a deep breath that sounded like an attempt to fortify his battle to maintain equal ground in spite of the pain creasing his face. "What the hell do you want then? Revenge?"

  "Retribution for deaths long past is too simple for what I seek. My ancestors expect me to bring our coven back to power so that we may live free of persecution. This is not about an execution of justice, but to take control of all witchcraft."

  First.

  Then she'd pick off the most powerful, one at a time.

  Tegus laughed, his derision falling off of her as easily as water off a duck's back. He shook his head in disbelief. "You're kidding, right? Sure, you caught me in a trap, because I was not expecting someone to be stupid enough to put their hands on the son of a Sterling witch and the Mac An Aba Mage. If you do succeed in killing me, one of them will come for you, and you'd better hope it's my father and not my witch mama."

  I certainly hope so, but not until I reach my full potential.

  She kept that thought to herself. The Sterling coven would hiss and carry on if they knew she'd captured one of theirs, but they had clearly failed to inform him of their agreement with Veronika or he wouldn't have been so easy to snare.

  They were not a concern right now.

  She maintained her calm only because she knew what was coming, while he did not. She asked, "Have you exhausted all your threats? Shall I begin?"

  That sobered him. "I don't need my hands to deal with you."

  And now would come his attack.

  As he began calling up dark spirits to aid him, she pulled out the hand that held a diaphanous white sphere the size of a cantaloupe. It spun on her palm. Energy boiled around the sides and wisps of white smoke wicked into the air.

  He paused, his eyes focused on her hand. "What is that?"

  "You know the tale of Witchlock, don't you?"

  "Witchlock? That's ... impossible." His gaze jumped to her face and he lost all the arrogance of a moment ago. His eyes dart
ed back to the steaming sphere in her hand and shock took over his expression. "It can't be. That was lost to everyone. How did you ... "

  "I don't have time to discuss this. Once this experiment is successful, I'll have to bring in the next specimen, which shouldn't be as much of an effort. Children are actually a joy to use as experiments."

  Tegus became very quiet.

  Now that she had his full attention, she continued. "You see, this is not about wielding Witchlock. When the moment comes for me to embrace the Witchlock power, I will have no trouble with one like you." A partial truth. But she did still need to learn how to control the power she received from Ragan. Then she wouldn't lose consciousness the first five minutes she took possession of Witchlock and it overwhelmed her. She'd read the history. The more power she gained now, the stronger she'd be during the eclipse.

  "You're insane," Tegus accused her.

  She ignored his lack of understanding and finished explaining what this test meant. "All I'm doing right now is learning the way this power will travel through a bloodline, such as along the energetic connection from you to your son. You should be very proud of him. His powers are quite strong for an untrained eight-year-old who is half human."

  "No. Not him. Take anything you want from me, but spare him. Please!"

  And there it was. This was the vulnerable point in Tegus. She would locate that in every powerful being she chose to exploit.

  "I can't possibly fail to finish this experiment once I take control of your power."

  Tegus started shouting curses. Not profanity, but the real ones that had been created by his ancestors and intended for the destruction of entire armies.

  Now she had a worthy adversary.

  She extended her index finger on the hand holding the sphere, ignoring everything except funneling the energy from the sphere through her body and out to her finger, then sending that stream inside Tegus's mind.

  His livid cursing was cut off mid-word by his own scream. He arched his body against the restraints anchored in the wall. "Get out of my head!" Veins stuck out all over his chest. His muscles twisted and moved like snakes inside his body.

  Howling came from a distance. He was calling in spirits. They wouldn't be able to harm her, not with this much raw power running through her body, but they could distract her.

  Her body trembled from the strain, and she drew harder and harder for each breath, desperate to maintain control. Blood trickled from her nose and her head felt as though it would split in half any second.