Hugh (Her Warlock Protector)

by Hazel Hunter

  The orange glow of her chi was soft around the edges and fluctuating. Now he could see that the red blotches on her skin were burns. He could see that her breathing was shallow. Thank the gods she was unconscious.

  “General Colmain,” said a voice behind him.

  Hugh whirled.

  A man stepped forward. Bald, maybe forty, wearing a gray wool suit, a bow tie, and gold-rimmed spectacles.

  “Or do you prefer Doctor?” the man said. Though he didn’t smile, he inclined his head. “You can call me Professor.”

  A cold shot of fear landed in Hugh’s stomach. He narrowed his eyes, studying the man. Every Magus Corps member had heard of the Professor. But not a single report held his description. In fact, there were those who believed he was only a rumor. Either he was a bogeyman or someone that Wiccans didn’t survive. Hugh now knew he was no bogeyman.

  “I see my reputation precedes me,” he said. “Yet again.” He strolled toward Phoenix. He tapped a long, metal rod in his hand. “Oddly enough, the necromancer had never heard of me.” As Hugh leaned forward, at the end of his chain, the Professor cocked his head down at Phoenix’s still form. “The educational system has failed this new generation.” He looked at Hugh, his round lenses sparkling in the brilliant spotlight. “Wouldn’t you say?”

  “She’s not a witch,” Hugh said. “Let her go.”

  Holding the rod under his arm, the Professor removed a small, white, plastic-wrapped ampoule. Hugh recognized it. It was an ammonia inhalant. The Professor bent to Phoenix and, with one hand, snapped it in two beneath her nose. For a second there was no reaction. Then her brows furrowed, her eyes opened, and she reared her head back, coughing.

  The Professor stepped back.

  “Phoenix,” Hugh said.

  At the sound of his voice, she looked up.

  “Hugh?” she said, her voice trembling. She pushed up to one elbow.

  “Phoenix.” He knelt and stretched out his hand to her.

  Though she began to cry, she crawled toward him. He could see that the burn marks all had two small holes at their centers. Whatever that device was that the Professor carried, he had used it on her. She was obviously in pain, breathing hard. Her elbows were bruised. And her lower lip was swollen.

  “Just a little further,” he said, stretching out. Her legs and arms were shaking. “That’s it. Almost there.”

  But she collapsed. With a sickening thud, she fell back to the floor.

  “No,” Hugh muttered, reaching for her. “Just give me your hand.”

  Though she stirred, she obviously couldn’t muster the energy.

  The Professor stepped from the shadows. In a blur of motion, he whipped the rod from under his arm. Hugh heard a click that a loud buzz. Two glowing, red tips with a blue arc of electricity disappeared behind Phoenix.

  “No!” Hugh said, as Noobie snarled and snapped.

  Phoenix screamed. It was that same bone-chilling scream he’d heard from outside. She rolled away from the Professor and straight to Hugh. With just the one arm, he scooped her up and held her to him. But in the next instant, she hissed and pulled away. He’d touched the burn on her back.

  “Hold still,” he said, repositioning his arm and helping her sit up. He knelt behind her. “Here.”

  He lowered his hand to the new burn on her back. The electric rods had punctured her skin. He sent chi there, pouring through the holes and closed them. The burnt skin glowed orange as he traced his fingertips over it. The redness faded and smooth pink replaced it. In moments, it was healed.

  Phoenix took in a long shuddering breath and let it go.

  “Lean back,” he said.

  She collapsed against his chest. Now he could reach the burns on her stomach. As he looked down at the orange glow, he saw a pair of shoes appear at the edge of the circle. Though he continued to direct the chi over Phoenix’s burn, Hugh looked up.

  “Hypothesis two confirmed,” the Professor said. “Now for the quiz.”

  Without warning, he grabbed Phoenix’s chain and jerked it.

  With a strangled cry, she flew from Hugh’s grasp. Though he instinctively reached for her, his hand landing on her calf, he let go. As the Professor dragged her back toward the wall where her chain was fastened, if Hugh had grabbed her leg, she’d have choked.

  Hugh stood. “She’s of no use to you. She’s barely learned to control her power. Let her go.”

  As she clutched at the leather collar, the Professor kept a hold on the chain, not letting her low enough to sit on the floor.

  “I know,” the Professor said. “Though a necromancer would be an asset, she was never my goal.”

  He jerked the chain up, yanking her to her knees.

  Hugh strained forward, even though he knew he couldn’t reach her.

  “When I get my hands on you,” he said through clenched teeth. “You’ll regret that.”

  “Really?” said the Professor, as though he were truly interested. “It’s my understanding, General Colmain, that you are a healer. How exactly would you make me regret anything?”

  “I’ll beat you to death with my hands,” was Hugh’s instant answer. “Then I’ll set your body on fire.”

  The Professor shook his head, as Phoenix sagged. “I find that highly improbable, General.” Her breathing was becoming more labored. Her stomach sucked in and out. “You’re not even a field operative.” He looked down at Phoenix as she tried to reach up to the chain he held. “And that brings me to my quiz.” He turned on the electric prod and held it up for Phoenix to see.

  She whimpered and squirmed, trying to get away. Noobie snarled and snapped his jaws.

  The Professor addressed himself to Hugh. “Where is the nearest Wiccan healing center?”

  Hugh blinked at him. “What?”

  “Wrong answer,” the Professor said.

  He jabbed the rod at Phoenix’s stomach. As she twisted frantically, it caught her hip. She screamed.

  “Stop!” Hugh yelled, and the Professor took it away.

  “Surely you didn’t think I would come for some neophyte necromancer. No, General. It’s you I want. It’s you who hold the key to hundreds of centers and covens worldwide. It’s you who will allow me to find thousands, even tens of thousands, of Wiccans. You are my gateway.” He looked down at Phoenix, who was breathing hard and dangling by her neck, only one hand on the collar. “She is a means to an end, though an important one.”

  Searing realization burned in Hugh’s chest. To save Phoenix, he would have to betray others.

  “We have forever,” the Professor said. “Consider it an unlimited time exam. Such are the benefits of immortality.”

  Though Hugh kept his eyes on the face of the Professor, his mind slipped to another time. Phoenix wasn’t immortal. If the Professor thought he could keep this up indefinitely, he was wrong. Hugh thought of denying his love for Phoenix, but that would spell her death even sooner. His mind raced.

  “Where is the Los Angeles coven?” the Professor said.

  Hugh stared at him. “I don’t know.”

  Without hesitation, he jabbed Phoenix in the stomach.

  She double over without so much as a sound, and hit the ground.

  Her chi flickered.

  “She’s in shock,” Hugh said.

  The Professor let go of the chain and stepped back.

  “Then you had better heal her,” he said.

  A wild idea occurred to Hugh. He tensed at the very thought of it. He stole a sideways glance at Noobie.

  “I can’t reach her,” Hugh said.

  Keeping an eye on Hugh, the Professor shoved Phoenix with his foot. Though it pained Hugh to see him do that, he backed up just a fraction, gathering his chain silently in his fist.

  “Not far enough,” Hugh said, reaching out, at least a foot short. “I have to reach the burns, not her hand.”

  Again the Professor stepped forward and used his foot to shove her the remaining distance. Then he stepped back. “There.”

>   Hugh cursed silently. There was no way he could reach the Professor. He looked down at Phoenix. Eyes closed, lips parted, her skin was ashen with the shock. Her chi was dim and flickering. If he didn’t intervene, she would die.

  “Do your thing, General,” the Professor said.

  Hugh placed a tentative hand over her heart, and reconsidered his insane plan.

  Here in the glaring light he saw so clearly. He couldn’t be the means of death for countless numbers of Wiccans. But he couldn’t see Phoenix suffer. He wouldn’t. He could heal her now, only for the Professor to find some other use for her––or not. If she refused to bring Templars back from the dead, she would die, after being tortured. As long as there was information that they thought they could extract from him, she would be made to suffer. It had to stop now. He had to take the only chance he would ever get.

  The orange glow around his hand began. But rather than manipulate her chi toward her faltering heart and lungs, he took it away. He willed it away from her center, out to her ribs, her shoulders, her extremities. She stopped breathing.

  “No,” he said, not having to feign the fear. He put his ear to her chest. There was no heartbeat. Slowly, he sat up. “She’s dead.”

  The Professor cocked his head back and looked down at her. He scowled a little, the first sign of any emotion at all.

  “Liar,” he said.

  Hugh got to his knees, staggered to his feet, and backed up a pace.

  “She’s dead, Templar,” he said seething. The rage was no pretense either. “And it’s your fault.”

  The Professor stared incredulously, glancing between Hugh and Phoenix and then at the torture device in his hand. Precious seconds were ticking by. Hugh felt sweat on his upper lip.

  He had induced a near-death state in Phoenix’s already weak system. Though her chi was still there, if her heart was stopped too long, she would suffer brain damage and then true death.

  “You can torture me until this warehouse falls to dust,” Hugh said, between clenched teeth. “You won’t get anything.” He paused and stared down at Phoenix. “How’s your quiz going, Professor?”

  At that, Hugh turned away. Noobie whined piteously.

  “That can’t be,” the Professor said. Hugh heard him moving. He stole a glance behind him. The man was leaning over Phoenix. He picked up her wrist and felt for a pulse.

  Before the Professor had finished or could back up, Hugh lunged forward. Even as his handcuffed wrist broke, he shoved the Professor with his other hand. Off-balance, the Professor lurched sideways, straight for Noobie.

  The giant poodle’s jaws gaped open as he pounced. The Professor screamed as Noobie’s teeth sank into his shin. But the man still had the rod. He planted it in Noobie’s back. With a wild yelp, Noobie let go, and the Professor stumbled backward. But now Hugh was ready. He cocked his fist. Red rage filled his vision, and he squeezed his balled hand so hard it shook. Before the Professor could turn around, Hugh punched him.

  His knuckles landed directly on the back of the man’s neck, just below the skull, on the cerebellum. The sound of crunching bone was followed by the Professor collapsing straight down, like a puppet whose strings had been cut. For a mortal, it would have been a killing blow, but Hugh knew better. He dropped to his knees next to the man. His chi still glowed, but not for long. Hugh only had seconds before Phoenix suffered asphyxia, but the Professor would not be allowed to live. Hugh rolled the man to his back, and saw his neck twist at a crazy angle. The Professor’s eyes rolled sideways to look at him. Hugh slammed his hand down on the man’s chest and…took.

  In his life, Hugh had never done such a thing. He didn’t even know he could. But in an instant, it was done. What was left of the Professor’s chi simply evaporated. The man’s glassy eyes stared past Hugh at the glaring lights, unblinking. He was dead.

  Breathing hard, heart pounding, Hugh sat back on his heels. He stared at his own hand. What had he just done?

  Noobie barked. Hugh jerked his head up.

  “Phoenix!” he muttered, swiveling in place.

  He leaned over her. Her chi was so dim! He laid his hand on her heart.

  “Don’t you leave,” he whispered. “Don’t you dare.” Noobie whined behind him. “Noobie and I need you, Phoenix. Don’t leave.”

  A bright, orange light flared around his fingers. The chi in her body gathered under his palm.

  “That’s it,” he muttered. “That’s it.”

  But she lay still as a stone. The chi flickered.

  “No.” He pressed his palm down hard. He forced his own chi down. Though his stomach plummeted as though he were in an elevator, the light flared so bright he had to avert his gaze.

  Phoenix heaved in a huge lungful of air and coughed.

  Hugh raised his hand and the light disappeared. Despite the pain in his broken wrist, he leaned closer.

  Her eyes were open but staring past him. How long had she been without air? It couldn’t have been four minutes—could it?

  “Phoenix?”

  She was still breathing hard and didn’t look at him.

  “Phoenix?” he tried again.

  He put a hand to the side of her face. There was nothing he could do if parts of her brain had died from lack of oxygen. But as he gently caressed her, her gaze drifted to his face.

  “Hugh?” she whispered.

  Relief flooded through him as though a dam had burst. He closed his eyes and put his forehead to hers.

  “Phoenix,” he whispered. “I thought…” His throat constricted, unable to say the awful words.

  Noobie barked.

  He felt her stir. “Noobie?” she said weakly.

  Hugh opened his eyes and sat up.

  “Don’t move,” he said. He glanced at the Professor’s body. “I have to find some keys.”

  And matches.

  Chapter 22

  Nix screamed herself awake. She clamped her hands over her mouth.

  “It’s okay,” Hugh whispered. She realized that she was tucked against his side. “I’m here. Noobie’s on the floor. You’re in your bed.”

  “What day is it?” she said.

  Hugh gently rubbed her back. “It’s Wednesday,” he said. “And yes, the animals are all fed.”

  They were naked under the covers. Though the temperature of the room was chilly, Hugh’s skin was warm. She cuddled closer. Though Hugh had healed her, the nightmares continued.

  “It was the Professor again,” she said.

  She smoothed her fingers over her stomach, where the burns had been. After Hugh’s healing, there wasn’t even a mark. But he’d told her that her body was still recovering. She was tired.

  “He’s dead,” Hugh said quietly. “He can’t hurt you again.”

  “I know,” she said.

  “Sleep,” he whispered.

  As much as she dreaded the dreams, she couldn’t keep her eyes open.

  “You’ll be here,” she said, “right?”

  She could hear rain spattering against the window.

  “There’s nowhere else on earth I’d rather be.”

  “Okay,” she said nodding, as consciousness faded. “Just checking.”

  * * *

  • • • • •

  * * *

  As Hugh filled the canary bowls, his cell phone vibrated. He saw the Caller ID, set down the seed, and answered.

  “Commandant,” he said, moving away from the bedroom door. “This better be good.”

  “Hugh,” the man said, using his first name, “I guarantee it is.”

  The Magus Corps was bending over backwards. They had screwed up big time.

  “Roxandra has resigned as Coven Master,” he said.

  Hugh nodded to himself. That had been the first negotiating point.

  Thanks to her, the Corps had formed the erroneous belief that Phoenix had collaborated with a Templar. The truth was she had resurrected him, not knowing who he was, not that Phoenix would have cared. The man could no more hurt her than
he could hurt himself. Even now Hugh felt a huge debt of gratitude to him. The pastor had tracked the Professor to that godforsaken warehouse, driving with a broken arm and concussion. Knowing that he couldn’t help Phoenix in that state, he’d then driven to the hospital to find Hugh. But as a Templar he sucked. Like everyone else that Phoenix touched with her gift, he was bonded to her. Hugh watched the canaries peck at their food.

  “And Ramon?” Hugh asked.

  There was silence on the other end.

  “We’ve issued a bulletin. He’s not to be touched.”

  Hugh could almost hear the Commandant’s teeth grinding. The special bulletin for a sergeant brother was unprecedented. Then again, so was the prospect of having a General go rogue. Nor had it been an idle threat. The Corps had been ready to see Phoenix die. Based on Roxandra’s intel they’d cut her and him off from help. While Wiccans all through L.A. had hid behind their wards, he and Phoenix had been left to fend for themselves. Seeing Ramon survive with them was the least that Hugh could do for him. That was the second point. There was one more left.

  “And?” he said, gazing at the bedroom door.

  “The contractor will give you a call this afternoon.”

  Hugh was surprised. “This afternoon?”

  As word had spread that he’d killed the Professor, the Corps had used him as some sort of poster boy. It would boost morale they said. But as far as Hugh was concerned, they could shove their morale. The only morale he was concerned with was beyond the bedroom door. To Phoenix, the Professor would be a nightmare that might never end. Nor did Hugh kid himself about defeating the man. The punch had been a lucky shot. The Professor had thought very little of his opponents. He’d been careless. Though the door to the bedroom was shut, he knew that Noobie was curled up at Phoenix’s feet. If it hadn’t been for her familiar, Hugh and Phoenix might still be in that warehouse. Hugh had burned the Professor’s body there. Though he hadn’t let Phoenix watch, now he wondered if he should have.