by Linsey Hall
“Where did you go?” he demanded.
Blasts of magic exploded behind him, colorful and terrifying. I’d never seen so much all at once. It was like standing in the middle of a war zone.
“I saw Anat. We can stop them by repairing the crown on her statue and destroying the dark red lines on the floor.”
His gaze flicked to the statue, understanding dawning. Then he looked at the floor, where a dark red line was painted into the ground. Magic radiated from it, sparking against my calf.
“Destroy the lines?” he asked.
“Tear up the floor if you have to, but we need to break the spell that is feeding her power into the cult members. It’s what keeps them alive even after their throats have been slit.”
He nodded. “I’ll deal with the lines. The witches can help.”
I nodded. “Be careful.”
He gave me one long look, his eyes sparking with something I couldn't quite identify, then sprinted away.
I pressed my hand to my comms charm. “Eve? We need to find a broken bit of stone that was once part of Anat’s crown.”
“On it.”
I looked up, spotting her darting low to look at the crown then off across the sky.
All around, the battle raged. I slipped away, leaving the witches and my friends to keep the cult occupied. My lungs burned as I sprinted through the temple, searching for a broken bit of stone. It was a distinct shape, but how the hell were we going to find the things in a city this big?
Ten minutes later, when panic was starting to rise, Eve’s voice echoed out of my comms charm. “I think I’ve found something. Meet me at the statue.”
I spun around and raced back to the main room. The halls were full of fighters, witches against red cloaks. The witches were tearing up the ground, using their magic to gouge the stone and destroy the red line. I prayed that we were only destroying the magical shadow of the temple and not the ancient floor itself.
The red cloaks tried to stop the witches, and the fighting was fierce. I dodged blasts of magic that exploded all around, ducking under the flying fists of red cloaks who sought to block my way.
As I sprinted back into the main temple room, I spotted the torn-up floor around the red line. Grey had done his part. Now Eve and I had to do ours.
“Up here,” Eve shouted from above.
I looked up, spotting her. She darted down into the room, forcing her way through the semi-transparent roof. A huge piece of stone was clutched in her hands.
“That’s it!” I grabbed it from her, inspecting the shape.
One of the red cloaks roared, then another. They’d spotted me holding the piece of Anat’s statue, and rage echoed in their voices. They sprinted for me. Eve turned toward them, shooting lighting from her palms.
“Go,” she shouted. “I’ll cover you!”
I tucked the broken piece of stone under my arm like an American football and ran toward the statue. It soared thirty feet overhead. How the hell was I going to climb it with this thing in my arms?
As if she’d heard my worry, Mac appeared at my side, shoving her brown shoulder bag at me. “Here!”
“Thanks!” I shoved the stone into the bag, looped it over my back, then began to climb the statue.
It was rough going, the stone smooth and slick. I found handholds in the dress and kept climbing. All around, the sounds of battle raged. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught sight of more red cloaks converging. Most were bloodied and beaten. They should be dead.
My friends fought them, trying to buy me time as I climbed. Quinn had adopted his panther form, and he tore into the red cloaks viciously. Mac threw potion bombs with deadly accuracy and Eve shot lighting. Seraphia worked steadily in the background, destroying the red line painted into the ground with a pickax that someone must have conjured for her. The witches formed a barricade between me and the attackers.
But the red cloaks were so powerful. They shot massive blasts of magic at my friends, concussive booms that bowled over witches like bowling pins.
I climbed faster, my muscles burning. Finally, I reached the top. I stood on her shoulder as I tugged the bag around to my front.
Weak, I leaned against Anat’s head, my body trembling from the magic that pulsed out of her crown. It felt as powerful as she had felt, and it was all bad feelings. Rage and despair and violence. Her warlike side.
I prayed that magic would adhere the broken piece of the crown to the statue, because I had no mortar or glue. I pulled the broken piece of the statue out of the bag and raised it with trembling arms.
Down below, a shout caught my attention.
It was a roar of rage. Of terror.
I glanced down just in time to see a red cloak at the base of the statue. His hands were raised, glowing a violent green.
I’d seen that green before.
The sorcerers had hurled a blast like that at Grey, and it had nearly killed him. This, however, was far bigger. Far more powerful. I could feel it from there. If that hit me, it would kill me in an instant.
But Grey had seen it, too. He stood at the base of the statue, guarding me. The red cloak was right below him, aiming for me. Magic pulsed as he flung his hands upward, throwing the blast of deadly power right at me.
Grey leapt, putting himself between me and the blast, taking the hit straight on and landing on top of the red cloak.
He lay still.
Terror surged through me, fear like I’d never known. But the stone was heavy in my hand, and the battle raged on. Only I could stop it.
Worried tears pricked my eyes as I raised the stone to the crown, pressing it to the broken section. Panic threatened to eat me whole as magic flared. Like a cool breeze, it whispered through the room. The painted lines in the floor faded, no longer able to conduct Anat’s magic.
One by one, it washed over the red cloaks. They dropped like flies, their bodies turning to dust as their cloaks puddled on the ground. The sound of battle faded.
Frantic, I scrambled down the statue, desperate to get to Grey. As I neared him, I felt it.
The bond.
It surged back into me, our mate bond, so powerful that I nearly collapsed.
Whatever he’d done, he’d reestablished the bond. Tears streamed down my face as I fell the final few feet, landing in a pile at his side.
He lay crumpled on top of the red fabric that had once outfitted a cult member. That bastard had turned to dust, however.
“Grey!” I pulled him over, running my hands over his body and reaching for the pulse at his neck. “Grey! Wake up.”
Tears blurred my vision as I pressed my fingertips to his neck, feeling for a pulse.
Figures fell to their knees beside me, but I paid them no attention. I didn’t even know who they were. I didn’t care.
Finally, I found a pulse. Faint and weak, but there.
I dragged my sleeve over my eyes, wiping away tears and clearing my vision. Grey looked even worse than I’d feared.
His face was so pale he looked dead, and his eyes were closed. Deep shadows hollowed out his face, tearing a hole in my chest.
I looked up. “Someone help him. A healer. Something.”
One of the witches rested her hands on him, a frown stretching across her face. “He’s nearly dead.”
“But not totally. Save him.”
Her gaze flickered up to mine, worry in their depths. “I’ll do what I can, but . . .”
“Just do it.” I gripped his hand, fear and hope crashing around inside me. Our bond roared, the mate connection stronger than ever.
Cursed Mate.
That would be back too, but I’d deal with it when Grey was well.
The unknown witch pressed her hands to his chest. Several more witches beat their way to the front, shoving aside their coven members.
“Non-healers clear out,” Beth shouted.
They did as they were commanded, and more women joined us, pressing their palms flat to Grey. Healing magic glowed golden from their p
alms, flowing into him.
Seraphia joined us, keeping her eyes on Grey. She rested her palm on his forehead, and tiny green plants sprouted up through the broken stone. They leaned toward Grey, seeming to transfer magic from themselves and into him.
I looked up at Seraphia, but she didn’t meet my gaze.
The room was silent as the healers worked. In the distance, I spotted more of them tending to their friends. Grey wasn’t the only one wounded, but he was the worst off.
Every second was an eternity. I wanted to scream my rage and worry to the sky, but I swallowed it down.
Finally, he moved.
His eyes opened.
The witches moved back.
“Grey?” Hope flared in my chest. “Are you all right?”
“I’m—” He sat up, rubbing his face. “I’m fine.”
The witches climbed to their feet and melted away. Seraphia disappeared like a ghost. But I only had eyes for Grey. I flung my arms around him, hugging him close. His arms, warm and strong, wrapped around me.
He crushed his mouth to mine, kissing me like he would never let me go. Connection and joy and comfort surged through me, like coming home.
I couldn’t get enough. I wanted to absorb him into me until our two souls became one. It took everything I had to tear myself away.
His gaze searched mine, worried and beautiful.
Everything felt right when we were like this. As if the earth were finally turning on a proper axis after millennia of being off kilter.
Now that our bond was back, I realized I’d been walking around feeling like I was missing a limb.
And yet . . .
We were still Cursed Mates.
Epilogue
Carrow
The next day, I stood in the Shadow Guild tower, covered in dust as I tried to scrub out the ghosts that still haunted the place. The last twenty-four hours had been a whirlwind.
After the battle, the Temple of Anat had begun to repair itself almost immediately, magic flowing out from the statue of Anat to mend the floors and remove the red paint that the cult members had applied. Once the crown had been repaired, she must have regained her power.
We’d lost none of our forces, though there had been some truly gruesome injuries that would take time to heal, even with magic. All of the kidnap victims were home, thank God.
Grey and I had parted almost immediately. The kiss had ended, and we’d realized we shouldn't be around each other. We were still cursed mates. All our work to break the mate bond was undone.
My theory was that Grey’s act of sacrifice to save me must have broken it. He’d thrown himself into that blast without hesitating.
But now what?
Even though the bond had been broken, I’d fallen for him even harder. I wanted to be with him, with or without the bond.
I scrubbed a hand over my face, head pounding. I’d come to the Guild Tower to think about it all—to try to figure a way out of the future that was barreling toward us—but I was no closer to an answer.
“You want a drink or something?” Mac asked from my side.
I blinked, startled, and looked up at her. I’d totally forgotten she was there. “What?”
“A drink? Or a break? You look like you need one.”
I dragged a weary hand through my dusty hair. “I could probably use one, yeah. It’s been a long week.”
“It’s not that.”
I shook my head. “Fine. You see right through me. It’s Grey.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know. What is there to do?” Memories of how wasted away he’d looked after his disappearance flashed into my mind. It hadn’t taken long for the curse to wear him down. “If he doesn’t kill me, he’ll waste away. Quickly.”
“Well, he’s not going to kill you.”
“If he can help it. He’d said he couldn’t control it when he was too far gone.”
She grimaced. “Yeah, that’s bad.”
I turned back to the piles of boxes in front of me. All were made of wood; most were nailed shut. They called to me, making my fingers itch to open them.
For some weird reason, I felt there were answers here. About what, I wasn’t sure. About me? About Grey? About Rasla, who I was still obsessed with? Why had he hated the Shadow Guild so much? What was it about those who were different?
Maybe there were answers to everything here. Or maybe it was desperation. Because I was desperate now. I didn’t know if I loved Grey, but I certainly didn’t want to lose him. And I didn’t want to lose my life. But unless I figured something out, that was going to happen.
No.
I could do this. I’d gotten myself out of miserable scrapes before, and I was going to get myself out of this.
“Come on,” I said to Mac. “Let’s look through these boxes. There’s got to be something good in them.”
~~~
Cursed Mate, the final book in Carrow and Grey’s, series will be available at the end of August, 2020. Click here to check it out.
Thank You!
THANK YOU FOR READING!
I hope you enjoyed reading this book as much as I enjoyed writing it. Reviews are so helpful to authors. I really appreciate all reviews, both positive and negative. If you want to leave one, you can do so at Amazon or GoodReads.
Acknowledgments
Thank you, Ben, for everything. There would be no books without you.
Thank you to Jena O’Connor, Lexi George, and Ash Fitzsimmons for your excellent editing. The book is immensely better because of you! Thank you to Susie for your incredibly keen eye on typos.
Thank you to Orina Kafe for the beautiful cover art.
Author’s Note
Thank you so much for reading Devilish Game! As always, there were a few historical tidbits that I wanted to share more about. The most obvious one is the ancient city of Ugarit. It is an archaeological site located near the Mediterranean in Syria.
The city is in ruins because it is so ancient. The tunnel that Carrow and her friends used to enter the city still remains, but the rest of the buildings are destroyed down to the lower walls. It was difficult to recreate what Ugarit would have looked like as I do not have much familiarity with that period of history. An article written by Tarek Teba and Dimitris Theodossopoulos was extremely helpful (A Graphic Reconstruction Methodology For The Conservation of Cultural Heritage). The tavern and plaza that featured in the scene were part of their research.
The city contains two temples—one to the god Baal and the other to the god El. El was a Semitic deity in Mesopotamia and the Near East. However, the goddess Anat suited the story better and so I replaced his temple with hers. She was roughly as I depicted her, a goddess of both war and peace.
Anat was popular in many places—from Ugarit and Egypt to Meopotamia and Israel. She was slightly different in each place, but the Atef crown that she wore in the final scene of the book was inspired by a bronze figurine found of her in Syria.
This book was dedicated to the students who are missing school during the Covid-19 crisis. My heart hurts for those who are missing school and their friends. The college party scene at the Witches’ Guild came about because I was remembering how much fun I had in college (at parties like the one I described, except without the random and ridiculous array of football fight songs).
That’s it for the historical elements in the book. There will be one more in Carrow and Grey’s series, and I hope you will come back to read it!
About Linsey
Before becoming a writer, Linsey Hall was a nautical archaeologist who studied shipwrecks from Hawaii and the Yukon to the UK and the Mediterranean. She credits fantasy and historical romances with her love of history and her career as an archaeologist. After a decade of tromping around the globe in search of old bits of stuff that people left lying about, she settled down and started penning her own romance novels. Her Dragon’s Gift series draws upon her love of history and the paranormal elements that she can't help
but include.
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. All reference to events, persons, and locale are used fictitiously, except where documented in historical record. Names, characters, and places are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
Copyright 2020 by Linsey Hall
Published by Bonnie Doon Press LLC
All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form, except in instances of quotation used in critical articles or book review. Where such permission is sufficient, the author grants the right to strip any DRM which may be applied to this work.
ISBN 978-1-648820-01-4
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