by Patti Larsen
He snarled back, but grunted and spun back to his work.
I probably should have told Charlotte to back off, but I just didn’t have the heart.
She’d earned a little fun.
We’d just reached the top of the staircase when Demetrius stopped, dropping to a crouch, looking through the iron railing at the entry below. I slid up beside him, Charlotte, now fully human again, still clutching Trill so hard the girl winced from the contact.
“Your place is with us.” Belaisle stood below, at the base of the stairs, Owen before him with two guards flanking him. No sign the sorcerer had any idea I was free, so at least we had something. Without the crystal and my power, I couldn’t act against Belaisle. But I wasn’t willing to leave the boy behind in the care of the Brotherhood either. All I could do was hover there and hope Owen would come to us.
I’d just have to deal with Belaisle later.
“I’ll never join you,” Owen said, voice strong, sure. “You can threaten me all you want, threaten my sister and the people who have helped us, but we know our duty. We’ll stop you, somehow.”
So much courage. I found myself grinning even though Owen’s stand was pretty empty. Trill stared down at her brother with a fierce kind of love and loyalty and I wondered how their grandmother managed to instill so much faith in the two of them, faith in each other, considering their destiny.
Belaisle finally waved at Owen. “Take him back to his sister,” he said. “If they don’t comply with my orders, kill her.”
Owen’s face settled into a mask of anger. “You won’t kill her,” he said. “She’s too valuable.”
“You’re wrong,” Belaisle snapped back. “Neither of you has any value. Believe it. And with her dead, the last hope of the maji dies with her.” He laughed. “You think we can’t find another with maji blood to part the veil for us? Foolish boy and your pathetic prophesy.”
Belaisle turned, swept really, away, heading for his office with his perfectly coiffed hair and impeccable pinstripe suit. We’d see how cocky and collected he’d be the second I was out of this cursed place.
The thought of facing him with my full power made my mouth water.
Charlotte hissed at me, retreating from the sightline of the stairs and I half-turned to follow her. We could retreat to the room now, pounce on the guards, maybe take them out before they could warn Belaisle. Make a clean break and tear this place apart from the outside.
At least, that’s what my brain wanted to happen.
The reality wasn’t under my control.
His amber eyes alight with flame and a howl of fury on his lips, Demetrius Strong took matters into his own hands, flinging himself forward to attack the approaching sorcerers.
***
Chapter Thirty Five
The first went down without a sound, mouth gaping open as the former Chosen leader landed on him, legs wrapped around his chest, arms flung around his neck, gaping mouth flashing those very white teeth. Owen didn’t hesitate, lunging forward toward us, Trill grasping his hands and pulling him after her as Charlotte spun and landed a bone-crunching kick to the second guard’s chest.
No, I wasn’t kidding. Bone definitely crunched under the heel of her heavy boot, ribs at the very least, if not the man’s sternum, giving way to the ferocity of her attack. I let her have her head, the wolf half emerging again, foam dripping from her fangs as her snout elongated, talons hooking from her stretched and knobbed hands.
“Get them out.” She snarled those three words just before she threw herself at the third guard who was already turning to retreat, his feet tangled in the toppling man she’d just disabled while Demetrius’s power sucked the life out of his captive.
The sight held me for a moment, watching as the Brotherhood sorcerer’s face withered, his skin shrinking and wrinkling, eyes bulging from his desiccated face. I only broke free of the horrible sight when the first man Charlotte attacked finally crashed his way to the marble floor below with a heavy thud and the ring of metal as his boot struck the railing hard enough to make it sing.
Time to go. I reached for Charlotte to pull her along with me only to find myself falling away from her as she spun and grasped my arm, thrusting me backward away from Demetrius and the lifeless corpse he released. I caught a glimpse of movement at the bottom of the stairs, a rush of suited bodies, locking eyes with Belaisle just before Charlotte’s iron grip pulled me past the corner and out of the line of sight.
So much for a quiet getaway. I wrenched my arm free of the weregirl, spinning to race beside her, Demetrius on our heels while the spiral staircase echoed with shouts and pursuing footfalls.
As we turned a second corner, taking a left down a narrow hallway, I spotted Trill and Owen at the end of it, both frozen. They turned toward us, Trill’s face scrunched in anxiety. As I looked up and past her, I realized why.
No exit. Just a large window overlooking trees, a very tall floor up from the garden below. We were trapped.
Charlotte seemed to think otherwise. She didn’t pause or hesitate, grasping my arm again before she dove between the two kids with her feet out in front of her. I’d been slowing down, losing momentum, but her powerful grip carried me forward with her as the glass shattered under the pressure of her blow.
I was flying, out and slightly upward in a slow arc. At least, it seemed slow. Everything hung in the evening air, the soft tinkling of breaking glass playing music around me, Charlotte’s snarl counter-point. Fear took me, shook me hard, collapsed my lungs, forced my mind to the past—
—falling and falling, the shining mountain flashing past me, the red-tinted stone of the Parade below as I plunged to the ground—
—my demon screamed as we cleared the threshold of the shields and tore open the edge of the veil, pouring Charlotte and I into it. My feet touched ground a heartbeat later as that same tear deposited the pair of us on the grass outside the house, glass raining down in a sharp-edged shower as I looked up to see the gaping gazes of our three companions as they leaned out the window to stare at us.
“Don’t.” I clenched my teeth and balled my hands into fists, wincing at the pain in my right where a shard of glass slit the skin. “Ever.” I reached upward, jerked my hands apart, opening a rift in the veil just outside the window. “Do anything.” I held on tight as the three tumbled forward into the gap. “Like that.” My demon writhed and howled, so agitated I could hardly contain her. “Ever. Again.” I turned on Charlotte as Trill and Owen collapsed at my feet out of the gap my demon made, Demetrius sliding free to crouch next to them. My wereguard stared me down, the wolf in her eyes defiant.
“We’ll see,” she said.
Speechless rage saved her life. That and the shouting from above, from the back of the house, all around us. I threw up a shield on instinct before swearing softly and letting it fall again, knowing my wards were worse than useless.
Belaisle and a pack of his sorcerers ran around the corner of the house, skidding to a halt in the dew-wet grass, glaring under the light of the white overhangs scattered through the garden. They must have arrived back at the mansion after Demetrius freed me, though with the perpetually empty feeling of the house, there was no way of knowing how many of the Brotherhood to expect. “I don’t know what you think you will gain from this,” Belaisle said, panting to catch his breath. “Return the children.”
Like I’d stolen them or something. The anger I’d aimed at Charlotte found a new playground, fed by the pent-up frustration of the last few hours. I let my demon out, heard her shrieking even as Shaylee reached deep into the earth and released her fury, the ground shaking so hard the sorcerers staggered and even Owen reached for his sister for support. My vampire remained silent, but just as upset, making me wonder what trick she had up her sleeve.
Though I knew I could do little to damage the sorcerers, my show seemed to have the desired impact. Maybe Belaisle’s people weren’t used to opposition, or perhaps they doubted their own abilities. For whatever reason, th
ey shrank back from me, tripping over each other to retreat, though a sharp order from their leader brought them, anxious and on guard, back again.
“I believe I owe you a killing,” I said. “Since your effort failed, it’s my turn.” I let my demon’s power circle him, snuffling at his scent, lapping amber flames around his legs. He flinched, but didn’t move, so at least I knew I was getting through to him, no matter his abilities.
Epiphany. Shielding didn’t just give them power. It gave them power over us.
I laughed in his face, patting his cheek with the flames, a stray wisp snaking out toward his goatee.
“Might want to put that out,” I said as the hair began to smoke.
Belaisle cried out, slapping at his own face, the tip of his beard crumbling in his hand. When he met my gaze again, I knew I’d finally pushed him to his edge.
Bring it.
Before I could test my theory further, Owen leaped in front of me, the crystal pulsing in his hand like a baby star, fingers reaching for me as he did. I suffered the touch of sorcery, the devouring magic pulling me into Owen’s world while Belaisle’s eyes flew wide before narrowing.
“Thieves,” he snarled. “So this is the way of witches?”
Owen spun on two of the Brotherhood easing their way closer, despite their fear, pulling me along with him. The black mist formed around them, the same mist I’d seen in the maji chamber, only this time it was thicker, more like fog, clinging to their legs and arms, wrenching them forward. Both men sagged to their knees, eyes wide and full of black, mouths hanging open as Owen’s had. Only it was he who took their power, flowing faster and faster into him, through me, until he stood inside a roiling ball of black, my body struggling to gag, spit out the churning shadow. My arm disappeared into the cloud, only his shoulders and head exposed, and the crystal held up before us.
“Stop him!” Belaisle’s order was ignored as his people backed off. They were even more afraid of Owen than they were of me.
“Now you see!” Owen turned from the two sorcerers, his power leaving them be as they sagged to the ground with a pair of matching sighs. They weren’t wasted like Demetrius’s opponent had been, at least. “You see what I am? Why I will never join you.”
Belaisle reached for him, face falling into a parody of welcome. “But this is the very reason you’re meant to be one of us, Owen, my boy.” He eased forward a step, compulsion in his words even I felt through the connection with Owen. “You are to be our greatest warrior, our most powerful leader. You will be worshipped and loved for all ages and nothing will stop you from having what you want.”
Owen swayed a little. What hold did Belaisle have over him? I squeezed his hand, strengthened our connection, and Owen stilled.
“Liar,” Owen said, holding the crystal out. “You want me to join you? I want you to join me.” Belaisle coughed softly. No, choked. Black mist poured out of his mouth, rushing toward us. Three sorcerers threw themselves in their leader’s path, taking his place, disrupting Owen’s focus. The boy backed off as Belaisle leaned over his knees, gagging and panting for air.
“Kill them.” His words were a wheezing gasp. “Kill them all!”
They might have been afraid of me, terrified of Owen, but there were dozens of them and more appearing from the darkness around us by the moment.
Enough.
Gram, I sent, feeling her latch onto me in desperation. We need help.
Just come home, she shot back.
I could have. Just torn open the veil and rode it with my small group, escaping. For now. But Belaisle wouldn’t stop and I needed him to know chasing us, pursuing us further, was a very bad idea.
Just help, I snapped at her. Or stay out of the way.
The family magic surged in answer as the coven cried out in fury.
The air beside me shuddered as Sebastian appeared, Gram in his arms, Uncle Frank and Sunny on his other side. I could feel the clan arriving, the coven with them, circling the Brotherhood, penning them in.
Remember, I sent, they can’t hurt you if you don’t shield. And doing so means your power works on them.
Joy, fierce and hot as the family called up their magic while the clan flickered in and out of shadow, white spirit magic crackling like lightning.
Trill spun on me, glasses crooked on her nose, brown eyes full of fear. She was going to do something stupid, I could totally tell, but Owen was already being pulled out of my grip, his hand no longer locked in mine as she grasped her brother in her arms and shoved the two of them between Belaisle and me.
“Where is she?”
***
Chapter Thirty Six
Damned fool girl, what was she doing? But the smirk on Belaisle’s face told me. Still full of himself, still thinking he could win. The pulsing light of the crystal faded, cooled, and I understood at last why Owen had taken my hand.
My crystal. His power. Rather a wicked combination.
As for Belaisle, I was a little surprised at his continuing arrogance. Either he was unaware I’d discovered the secret to fighting his kind or he just didn’t have the brain capacity to believe he could lose.
About to prove him wrong.
“Where’s who?” Belaisle took a slow step forward, his people closing in. Only now they were split in focus as the coven and the clan pushed against them with magic and rage.
“Bastard!” Trill threw the word at him, as sharp as any knife. “Where is our Nona?”
“Your precious Nona.” Belaisle brushed at one sleeve as though he wasn’t standing in the middle of a fight he was about to lose. “Ah, yes. The old woman. I recall now. She died badly, I’m afraid.”
Trill shuddered, Owen’s black mist falling to pool at his feet as the star inside the crystal faded to a pinpoint of light.
“You killed her?” So much pain in those three words. I actually worried Trill was broken.
And I needed her functioning.
I needn’t have worried she’d fall apart, not after years of heartache and running. But what she did do shocked me so much I didn’t fight, didn’t think to, as she turned and grasped my hand, the same one Owen held, our connected grip slippery with the blood still oozing from my cut and tapped into my magic.
Not the same. At. All. Weird. Awful. Painful. Stomach clenching—
Awesome. We locked together, her power to mine, creation magic feeding us, swelling between us in a storm of magic.
Owen’s power made me sick. Hers filled me with joy.
Like this, Trill sent, spinning out a shield, but not a shield, not like anything I’d ever made before.
But felt? Used? Oh yes.
I followed her, added my power and experience with such materials as the two of us created a plane wall, a veil of our own in a half-circle dome with our little group inside.
The. Most. Incredible. Thing. Ever.
Ever.
This is what magic is meant to be, Trill sent, her heart singing in tune with mine, no matter what we faced, the music of our magic filling us to the brim.
Yes. Of course.
Belaisle and his sorcerers attacked, throwing power at us, drawing on the veil, or trying to. But there was nothing for them to feed from, quite to the contrary. The rubbery slickness deflected their magic, sending it flowing away to be absorbed by the world around them, their effort wasted as Owen lifted the crystal and opened his own magic, taking my other hand, the blackness surrounding him surging to new life.
Light and shadow came together. In me.
“Are you really ready for this?” Belaisle staggered as Owen’s power snaked out, dividing into multiple branches, touching more and more sorcerers as he poured magic into the crystal and sucked even greater amounts back to it. “Sydlynn Hayle, are you ready for war?”
I smiled at him, laughed, couldn’t help myself. Felt the balance of my power as the creation magic tied tightly to all parts of me, destruction her happy sibling. “Are you, Belaisle? I’m starting to think you’re having second thoughts a
bout me.”
So. Freaking. Awesome.
And then the stupid Enforcers had to show up and ruin everything.
Black-robed witches were suddenly everywhere, filling the sky overhead, blue power crackling as they slammed up a dome of magic around the entire group of us, coven, clan and Brotherhood.
As if they could ever contain me. Yeah, right. Still, seeing them had an effect, at least. I pulled free of Trill, our veiled dome collapsing, Owen’s magic leaving me as I stepped away from him as well, the realization of what I’d done erasing all the good feelings.
Blood magic. No matter its real name or purpose, it was still an offense punishable by death.
Oh, crap.
Way to break the law with hundreds of witnesses, Syd.
“You will cease your conflict, under orders of the Council of North American Witches.” Pender settled to the ground, striding forward with three other Enforcers at his back while the rest continued to circle above us. Power touched me, power I knew intimately, but I didn’t have time to wonder why he was there, his delicious magic on the wrong side.
“Your Council has no sway over me or my people,” Belaisle snapped, pulling the ragged edges of his arrogance around him.
“Nor mine,” Sebastian said.
“Perhaps not,” Pender said, “but I am authorized to end this conflict one way or another. And if that means arresting all of you and sorting it out later, I’ll do so.”
“Try it,” Belaisle said. “The battle you end here will mean the beginning of a war. Unless.”
Pender paused. “Unless?”
“You allow us to leave.” Belaisle actually backed up a pace. “Neither of our people are prepared to begin something we can’t finish.”
Hell no. “You let them go,” I snarled, surging forward, “and you’re only making things worse for us later.”
Pender fixed me with a glare. “Done,” he said. “Though our Council Leader has a message for you.”
Belaisle snarled something under his breath, but nodded.
