Spellbound

by Kelley Armstrong

  "Strongly consider it," Sierra said.

  Severin stepped into the circle and began reciting the incantation. I tugged and writhed against my bonds, but I wasn't going anywhere. Not until this was over.

  I didn't need to wait long. The last words had barely left Severin's mouth before he teetered, then jerked upright. Then he looked at me and his eyes glowed a green so bright I blinked.

  "Savannah." His voice was pitched low, silky, musical. He seemed to glide across the room toward me. I could feel the heat radiating off him. Sweat trickled down my face as I stared into those piercing green eyes. Not just any demon. A lord demon.

  I struggled not to shrink as he came closer. I'm not sure I didn't anyway. Sierra stepped back fast, her gaze averted, cheeks flushing, lips pursing, as if annoyed by her reaction.

  The demon stopped right in front of me, those waves of heat making sweat spring from every pore. Then he lowered himself to a crouch. When he reached to touch my face, I had to grit my teeth to stay still, and even then, I couldn't maintain eye contact.

  He cupped my chin in his fingers and rubbed his thumb along my jaw. I knew the incredible heat of his touch should burn, but it was like a hot-water bottle on a winter's night. I leaned into his hand, in spite of myself.

  "As perfect as any mortal could be," he said. "Such power. Such incredible power."

  Not anymore.

  I didn't say the words aloud, but his grip tightened and I looked up to see his eyes flash with an anger that should have terrified me, but I drank it in and I felt . . . pleased. Satisfied.

  "Someone took your powers," he said. "I had heard the rumor, but I didn't believe it. I didn't think anyone would dare."

  So it wasn't you? Again, I only thought it, but his grip tightened and that anger flared once more.

  "Never," he said. "When I find out who did . . ."

  A blast of heat sent every scrap of paper in the room whirling. Sierra yelped and fell back. To me, it felt like a sauna door opening, and I basked in the heat of the demon's rage.

  "Whoever did this will pay for his trespass," he said. "Now that I have confirmation, I'll set a legion of demi-demons on the task. You'll get your powers back, Savannah."

  I shook my head. "I'm not making any bargains. I don't care who you are--"

  "No?" He tilted my face up. "I think you know who I am, and if you do, you know that I'd never try to bargain with you. I'll give you what you need. Freely. That is your birthright."

  When I didn't answer, he lowered his face to mine. "You do know, Savannah. I know you do. Who am I?"

  "Balaam."

  "Yes." He kissed my forehead and when he pulled back, I felt the burn like a brand on my skin. He crouched before me, his face level with mine. "I'm not here to make bargains, Savannah. But I am here to ask for something. I need your assistance in helping you achieve your birthright. The kind of life you deserve. Which is not a life spent hiding. All supernaturals are superior to mere humans. You know that."

  We have gifts. So do many humans--intelligence, wealth, strength. It's what you do with them that counts.

  "True," Balaam said. "But what do you plan to do with your gift, Savannah? Hide it? One of the most powerful supernaturals in the world, working as a receptionist? How does that feel?" He leaned closer. "They've made you think it's a worthy calling. But you know it isn't. You know you should be more."

  And I will be. Someday. When I've earned it.

  "They really have brainwashed you, haven't they? You have earned it, Savannah. By your very birthright, you've earned it. Now it's time to seize it. You understand what I'm talking about, don't you?"

  I spoke aloud now. "This supernatural liberation movement. You want me to join it."

  "In a way. You'll join and you'll let these people do the work. But you'll rise in the ranks, with Sierra and Severin at your back, and when the time comes, with my help and theirs, you will push past these lesser supernaturals and reap the benefits."

  "Which I'll share with you."

  He eased back on his haunches. "Yes, I would benefit by having my offspring leading the charge. But I have children other than your mother, Savannah. And a dozen grandchildren. You're the one I chose. The only one."

  "Because I also have witch and sorcerer blood. And I'm very, very well connected."

  He smiled. "And very, very perceptive. Which I expect. As I do not expect you to leap at my offer now. Stay with your friends. Think on what I've said. When the time is right--" His head snapped up. "I believe we're about to be interrupted."

  Sierra squawked something, but Balaam ignored her and touched my cheek again. "Think of what I've said. You deserve better, my child. And whatever your answer, I will make sure you get your spells back. I promise it."

  Sierra stepped forward. "You said someone's--"

  Severin's body collapsed. He let out an oomph as he hit the floor, then groaned and lifted his head, blinking. "Okay, next time? Some warning would be appreciated."

  As he pushed to his feet, the door handle clicked.

  Sierra spun on her brother. "I thought you locked--"

  "I did."

  He jumped to grab the door, but it swung open.

  "Huh, this doesn't look like luggage storage," said a Southern drawl. In walked a guy with blond curls, broad shoulders, and blue eyes that didn't glance my way.

  "It's not luggage storage," Severin said as he and Sierra moved in to block me from view. "Now, if you would please leave--"

  "What's this?" He bent to examine the chalk circle. "This isn't that devil worship stuff, is it? You kids really shouldn't play around with that."

  Severin reached for the intruder's arm. The guy grabbed his instead, and whipped him clear over his shoulder and into the wall.

  "Hey, Clay," I said. Clayton Danvers. Elena's mate. The Alpha's bodyguard. The Pack's enforcer. If I had to be rescued by someone, Clay would top my list.

  "Took you long enough," I said.

  "You're welcome," he said.

  "The rescue operation, I presume?" Sierra moved over beside me and reached out, fingertips icing over. "I believe we have a standoff."

  "Nah," Clay said.

  He lunged and grabbed Sierra's arm so fast she let out a yelp. He threw her across the room, where she landed beside her brother, who was struggling to his feet.

  "This is a standoff," Clay said.

  He grabbed the rope on my hands and yanked, and it snapped like thread. I bounced up.

  "And this is a fair fight," he said.

  Sierra snickered. "Um, no. Hate to break it to you, but your girl there is spell-free these days."

  "I know. Otherwise, it wouldn't be fair at all."

  Severin flew at Clay, who caught him by the shirtfront and whipped him against the other wall. "My mistake," Clay said as Severin slid to the floor. "Apparently, it's still not fair."

  He tossed me the rope. "I take it you're still able to tie knots?"

  "Sure." I knelt to bind Severin. As long as I kept out of the way of his hands, I was safe. Same for Clay, who went after Sierra. She'd wised up faster than her brother and stayed out of Clay's reach, which left them dancing around each other, lunging, and missing as their opponent spun out of the way.

  Sierra could have run. But she didn't even look at the door. We had her brother, so she was staying. Finally, Clay tired of the game, and when she charged him, hands outstretched, he lifted his right arm to block. She grabbed it. Her fingers frosted. He didn't even flinch, probably because an old zombie scratch had left the area insensitive to pain.

  With his left hand, he grabbed her around the throat. One good squeeze and she let go of his arm and started kicking and punching and struggling. He carried her by the throat to me, and I used the last piece of rope to bind her hands.

  "We want to negotiate," Sierra said once I had her bound beside her brother. "We have answers you'll want."

  "Then we'll get them," Clay said. "We'll do it your way, though--the same way you got answers from that
half-demon in Albuquerque. And if you have any idea who I am, then you know that compared to me, you're amateurs."

  I got his attention and mouthed, "Keep them alive."

  "Course," he said aloud. "Killing them is easy. Real technique is seeing how long you can keep them alive."

  He turned to the siblings. "Do you know why mutts don't set foot on Pack territory?"

  He told them. By the end of his story, Sierra looked like she was going to puke. Severin just sat there, his head down. Clay grabbed a handful of his hair and yanked his face up.

  "Did you hear what I said?"

  Severin's eyes glowed orange. "Oh, I heard, wolfman. And I'm impressed. I'll be even more impressed if you can fight your way out of this."

  He lifted his hands and snapped the rope as easily as Clay had. As he leapt up, Clay sidestepped, then came back behind Severin and slammed him in the back of the head. Severin dropped, but twisted at the last second, caught Clay by the leg, and threw him into the wall.

  "He's a demon," I said. "Possessed."

  "News flash about two minutes late," Clay said as he darted out of the demon's way. "The glowing orange eyes were a tip-off."

  "It's not a lord demon," I said. "Green is lord. Orange is just a regular demon. If that helps."

  He glowered at me. "You know what would really help, Savannah? If you--"

  The demon's punch caught Clay in the chin and sent him reeling. The demon glanced at Sierra, and I raced over so he wouldn't free her. He didn't try, though. Just looked at her and went after Clay again.

  This time, Clay didn't get distracted. He didn't try to hit the demon either, just kept out of his way, watching him, studying his moves. As moves went, they were simple ones. This was an entity accustomed to relying on brute strength.

  Then Clay slipped. As he staggered, the demon swung full-force. Clay spun out of the fake stumble, and kicked the demon in the back of the knees. The demon dropped. Clay grabbed him by the hair.

  "We only need one of them alive, right?" he said.

  "Right."

  Sierra screamed. Clay's free hand grabbed Severin's neck to snap it and--

  Severin disappeared. A figure flashed, so fast all I saw was a shape reaching for Sierra. Then she disappeared, too.

  Clay raced for the door and threw it open. I followed and caught up to him in the parking lot, looking around.

  "They're gone," I said. "Teleportation. Balaam wasn't going to let them get killed. Just enough of a roughing up to teach them to pay more attention."

  "Whatever." Clay took out his cell phone and dialed. "Hey, it's me. Got her. I had to take care of a demon infestation first. Seems to be over now, but I'm getting her in the car."

  He paused. "I'm fine. She is, too. Can you call--?" Another pause. "Thanks. See you in Miami."

  "Was that Elena?" I asked.

  I knew it was. You could always tell by his tone. So why did I ask? Because he hadn't looked at me since we'd left the room. With Clay, that meant he was seriously pissed off. I hoped I was wrong, which is why I was trying to get his attention.

  "How's she doing?" I asked. "I know she was attacked--"

  "Battered and bruised. No lasting damage. Car's over there."

  "How's your arm?" I said. "It looks like it's blistering. Are you--?"

  "Jeremy will take care of it in Miami."

  "Okay, so you're upset about Kate and Logan? Rhys told you the twins could be a target, and I almost delivered Elena right to them--"

  "You didn't deliver Elena anywhere. No way you could have known this had anything to do with our kids."

  "Is it because you're here, rescuing me, when you'd rather be taking care of them? I--"

  "In the car, Savannah," he said, unlocking the doors on the rental.

  "No, you're mad at me and I don't understand what I did."

  "Nothing."

  I planted myself in front of him. "I know I did something." "No, you didn't do a goddamned thing. What the hell was that, Savannah? I'm fighting a demon and you stand there, doing fuck-all?"

  "Excuse me? Did you miss the part about me not having my spells?"

  "I didn't think it meant your whole body was paralyzed, along with your brain. My mistake."

  I took a step back.

  "You run and I'll stuff you in that damned trunk and lock it. Which, all things considered, might be the best place for you."

  He threw open the driver's door and climbed in. As he shut it, he noticed I was still standing there and put down the window.

  "Get in the damned car, Savannah. I'm not Adam. I'll chase you once, and then I'll make sure you don't run off again."

  I got in the car.

  twenty-two

  Of all the friends I have today, Elena was the first I'd bonded with. She'd been taken captive by the people who'd killed my mother. At the time, she'd been friendly, but not overly chummy. Not like Leah.

  Leah had been one of those adults who doesn't really "get" kids, tries too hard and ends up coming off phony and condescending. At the time, I hadn't been mature enough to realize that. I only knew that when Elena came along--with her quiet concern and unwavering attention and fierce determination to get me out--I liked her better. Trusted her more. As a child, I was worthy of her protection, but a deeper bond wouldn't come until she knew me better. That felt genuine. I had to earn her respect.

  Then I met Clay and realized earning Elena's respect was nothing compared to the task of earning his. The first summer I'd spent at Stonehaven, Clay had tolerated me only because of Elena. I'd known he didn't like having a near-stranger stay in their house, and even as a child, I'd understood what a huge honor I'd been given.

  I'd earned his respect by staying out of his way and not expecting anything from him. I didn't expect anything from Elena or Jeremy either. At home with Paige and Lucas, I was known to sleep in until noon, then wait for lunch to be put on the table, and take off afterward, bitching if they called me back to clear my dishes. At Stonehaven, I woke up with everyone else, helped with breakfast, and cleaned up. If I needed towels, I found them. If I needed entertainment, I grabbed a book. If I needed clean clothes, I hauled my dirty ones to the basement and asked if anyone else wanted some washed. Of course, I wasn't expected to do everything myself, but I offered and I pitched in, and in doing so, I earned the respect of the most feared werewolf in the country.

  And now I'd lost it.

  I could rage against the unfairness of the accusation. What did Clay know about losing your greatest strength? About feeling powerless? A lot, unfortunately. That zombie scratch four years ago had left him with a nearly useless right arm, just weeks before the birth of his children, when the drive to protect his family was so strong it nearly drove him crazy.

  How had Clay dealt with that? Moaned about the injustice of it? Surrendered his role as Pack enforcer and relied on the others to defend them? No, he worked out harder than ever, then learned to compensate for the remaining weakness. No one had marveled at his determination. No one had expected anything less. That was just Clay. If you'd asked me what I'd have done under similar circumstances, I'd have said "the same thing." I was tough, too. If I got thrown from a horse, I got back on.

  Only I hadn't. I'd watched Clay fight Sierra and Severin and never even considered leaping in to help.

  What had happened to me?

  Maybe nothing at all. I thought I was strong and determined and resilient, but that was only because I'd never been tested.

  Karl met us at the airport. Jeremy had sent him with Clay, and they split up to cover more territory when I wasn't at the hotel. Karl wasn't happy about the situation. If Hope was in danger, he wanted to be with her. But he did as his Alpha wanted, namely because it was also what Hope wanted.

  I got a curt nod from him as he paced the private hangar, waiting for the Cortez jet to be ready to take us back to Miami. I'm sure he blamed me for getting kidnapped. Not that I'd have gotten a much warmer reception under any circumstances.

  On the
jet, Clay called Elena again, to fill her in on the details. He didn't tell her about my damsel-in-distress routine. That wasn't his way. He just gave her his story, then put me on speakerphone to talk about Giles and the group.

  They were concerned, of course. They were worried about the twins and Hope, but when it came to the big picture--the exposure risk--their primary concern was for the Pack first, friends second, greater supernatural world a very distant third. That's how werewolves think.

  I asked if the twins were in Miami.

  "No," Elena said. "Antonio and Nick took them to Europe with the boys."

  By "boys" she meant eighteen-year-old Noah and twenty-two-year-old Reese, young werewolves the Sorrentinos had taken in last year. In other words, they'd gathered the younger generation and headed for higher, more defensible ground.

  "If we need help, Nick and Reese will join us," Elena continued. "Antonio will stay behind with Noah and the twins."

  Clay took the phone off speaker then, to talk to Elena alone. Karl sat by the window, looking out, paying no attention to either of us. I settled back, closed my eyes, and tried to sleep.

  I didn't even get off the plane before Paige was on it, Lucas right behind her. The werewolves slid off quietly.

  I looked at Paige and Lucas, so familiar that even seeing them made my chest ache. Made me want to curl up on the seat and start sobbing like a little girl, waiting to be comforted. Paige, nearly a foot shorter than me, her curves shown off in a sea-blue sundress, her dark curls pulled back, her face drawn in concern. Lucas looking even more somber than usual, tall and lean, his tie and glasses both uncharacteristically crooked as if he'd hurriedly pulled them on in the car.

  As I stood to greet them, my whole body trembled. Even my voice wavered.

  "So I guess Adam told you," I said.

  Paige crossed the last few feet between us and hugged me, so tight she managed to squeeze out a couple of tears before I collapsed, chin resting on the top of her head, eyes closed.

  "We're so proud of you," she whispered, her arms tightening around me. "I know that wasn't an easy decision to make. I know it wasn't a decision at all. Just an impulse. But it was a huge sacrifice. I don't know"--her voice caught--"I don't know if I could have done the same."

  I hugged her back. "Believe me, I wouldn't have made the offer if I thought anyone would take me up on it."