Warrior Enchanted

by Addison Fox

  “No. It won’t take long at all.”

  Pain stabbed her in harsh, terrifying bursts at the sight of her brother and what he’d become.

  A monster.

  He had the same gifts as Drake and his Warrior brothers—but not. The talent may be the same but the manifestation in Magnus was just twisted and wrong.

  “Em, get out of here.” Magnus tilted his head toward the exit of the garage. “Go home and wait for me there.”

  “I can’t. You can’t do this, Magnus. Stop. Please stop. We can get you help.”

  “I don’t need help.”

  What could she say? How could she make him see reason? “Of course you do. This isn’t you, Magnus. It’s not who you’re meant to be.”

  “Get out of here, Em!”

  The fears she’d harbored about her sister reared up and slammed her like a storm on the sea. She’d questioned Veronica’s ability to act in a crisis, but could she do what had to be done? Could she look at Magnus as something other than her brother and acknowledge what he’d become? What she’d seen him become with her own eyes.

  “There’s a way out of this, Magnus. There has to be.”

  “My life, my choices. They don’t concern you. I just need you to get out of the way.”

  “Of course it concerns me. You concern me!”

  The snake stilled as her words echoed off the concrete of the garage.

  “You’re my brother.”

  “And you’re my sister. I don’t want to hurt you. So go. Please.”

  The last word—the “please”—tore through her along with the raw, painful memories of all that had come before. His desperate need for them to understand him and accept him never went away. Never faded.

  But the things he wanted them to accept…to understand.

  It was madness.

  All his adult life, Magnus was always asking for their understanding of things that he had no place doing in the first place. Her, her grandmother, even Veronica. He wanted them to accept his actions and disregard what those same actions said about him as a person.

  “Oh, Magnus. I’ve watched you make one bad choice after another. Do you have any idea how that makes me feel? How that makes Grandma feel?”

  “They’re my choices.”

  “We’re your family.”

  “You wouldn’t understand. You can’t understand.”

  “Then help me. Help me understand how any of this possibly makes sense.” Her gaze dropped to the snake, surprised when it not only fully stilled, but seemed almost catatonic.

  “After Mom—”

  When he broke off, she pushed back, unwilling to hold back the anger and the frustration and the horrible, awful fear any longer. “What about Mom?”

  “There you go.” He waved a hand. “I can see it, Em.”

  “See what?”

  “The fucking judgment. It screams off you in mind-numbing waves. I can hear the words in your head.”

  “There are no words in my head.”

  “Bullshit! They’ve always been there. Pounding with a verdict I couldn’t defend myself against if I tried.”

  “I don’t judge you, Magnus. I’m trying to understand you.”

  “You’ll never understand me. And you’ll never understand what I’ve become. You’re too pure.”

  She shook her head as a nauseous kernel of fear slipped into her belly. “Pure?”

  “You’re a white witch. You believe in the raw beauty of your power and you won’t take from the dark.”

  “I’m no different than many others.”

  “But it’s not what you come from!” The words ripped from him, the outburst even more immense for the fact that the snake remained perfectly still.

  The fear roiled faster now, hard, choking waves of it in her stomach that rose up toward her throat. When she finally got herself under control and could speak, her voice was an agonized whisper in the quiet garage. “What do you mean?”

  “I was there! I helped Mom in a black magic ritual.”

  “You couldn’t have.”

  “She wanted me there. The witches helping her told her if she used my blood, she’d be stronger. The magic would be stronger to bring him back.”

  “Magnus, no.” She shook her head, trying to puzzle through his words. To make sense of her mother’s actions. “No.”

  How could her mother do something like that? Was her grief for their father that strong?

  Or was his loss simply the catalyst to spring free what had always been there?

  “Yes, Em. It’s true. But she changed in the end. The woman—the one who’d told her it would bring Dad back. That woman turned on her. Tried to use me, instead.” Magnus’s voice exploded on a loud rush—part shout, part sob. “She saved me. Pushed me from the circle and took the punishment instead.”

  “And that’s why you changed? Why you became so different?” She hesitated, her emotions ricocheting as she imagined the ritual gone bad. On a deep breath, Emerson pushed for all of it. “And the man in the park? Did you kill him?”

  “He was there, Em. The night…” Magnus broke off. “He saw. He knew.”

  Dark, oily waves of grief swirled through her, dragging on the very fibers of her soul. “So you did kill him. And now you’ve traded your soul to possess another kind of magic? Another sort of darkness? Did you learn nothing from Mom’s sacrifice?”

  The anger—the mind-numbing, soul-searing anger—tore through her from the very top of her head to the tip of her toes. It rose up with a unique power all its own, and for the first time in her life, she sensed the truly dangerous edges of her magic.

  “She died in vain if this is what you’ve become!”

  The air around her grew heavy, and Emerson abstractly realized it wasn’t caused by her.

  On a rush, a woman materialized before them, her stance aligned with Magnus.

  “Isn’t this cozy?”

  Eris.

  Drake tamped down on the urge to leap forward and drag Emerson into a port and get her out of there. Much as he wanted to protect her, even he knew she had to see this to fruition. They all did.

  Life had certain inevitabilities a person learned over thousands of years of living and the one that sat at the top of the list was that you couldn’t outrun your fate.

  No matter who you had on your side or how hard you tried.

  As he kept his gaze firmly pinned on the pixie-sized woman who had captured his heart with her tough talk that hid cotton-candy-sweet emotions, he knew he was facing his own fate.

  He’d known it, of course. But as they stood there with so many unanswered questions hanging in the balance, it was all crystal clear.

  He was in love with Emerson Carano.

  Emerson moved to stand next to him and placed her hand in his. The simple gesture was obvious and immediate—they’d combine their power to take down the threat.

  Just as they’d practiced.

  “You ready?” He turned to look at her. Tension rode her features, evident in every part of her body from the widened set of her feet to the stiff set of her shoulders to the steely grip she had on his fingers.

  “Yep.”

  “Isn’t this sweet?” Eris crooned as she placed a hand on Magnus’s arm to keep him still. “What do you have there, Drake? She looks like one of Charlie’s Angels. The spiky hair and tats add a unique touch.” Eris put her free hand on a hip. “Surprisingly feminine and just a little bit wicked.”

  “She’s worth a million of you and you know it.”

  “Too, too sweet.” Eris smiled, her grin wolfish. “I think someone’s in love.”

  “Or pissed off,” Emerson suggested, her tone casual.

  Drake felt the heavy squeeze of his hand before all hell broke loose.

  Fire streamed from Emerson in a hard arc, focused dead center on Eris’s chest. The swift, immediate action had the desired effect. The goddess dropped to her feet, momentarily shocked by the speed of the assault. Before she could even breathe, Emerson sh
ifted tactics and focused on the woman’s midsection, careful to keep the flames high enough to avoid any possible oil slicks on the ground. It wasn’t foolproof, but she was conscious of what she was doing.

  Consciously trying to keep them all safe.

  Quinn’s breathless “what the hell” was followed by his war cry. Emerson stopped the flame as the bull leaped on Eris, her high-pitched screams echoing off the heavy walls of the garage.

  As Quinn moved, Emerson shifted her focus to her brother, bathing the coiled snake in golden streams of fire. Magnus let out a harsh scream of his own but moved out of the line of fire, having already learned his lesson from the other day. That movement was all Drake needed. With a quick squeeze of his own, he whispered to Emerson, “Please stay back with Callie.”

  And then he leaped.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Magnus struggled against his hold, but Drake refused to let him up. The snake was damaged from the burns, but was quickly regaining its strength. Drake could feel the snap of its head as it dived for his ankles. Its venom and fangs weren’t functional as the snake regenerated itself from the fiery assault, but it clearly wasn’t going to be left out of the fight.

  Marshaling his own tattoo, Drake let his senses reach out. Lifting off his body, the conjoined fish went to work, seeking any life-giving water in the vicinity. As the tattoo aided him, Drake refocused on his quarry. He pounded on Magnus, grunting when the asshole got a good, heavy box in over his ears, and still, he maintained the connection as his aura sought the water.

  His senses roved over the garage, seeking the source he knew was somewhere. He landed another punch on Magnus, this time to the stomach, before a wave of pain shot up his left leg as the snake’s fangs sank into his calf.

  No poison followed the bite, and he was about to shake it off when he felt the fangs retract and the weight of the snake shift away. Heat licked close and he realized Emerson had moved up and was firing on the animal yet again.

  Their lack of touch meant her fire went wider, not as focused as what she could create when they were together. It was that mistake that nearly cost them all.

  As her stream of heat went wild on the snake, one of the residual pools of oil that abounded all along the garage floor caught fire.

  “Emerson! Get away!”

  The barrier of heat knocked her back, throwing her against the external wall of the small office where the unconscious attendants still lay. Drake caught her movements from the edge of his vision. The urge to go to her was strong, but when she waved a hand to indicate she was okay, he again focused on his task.

  Where is the water?

  The flash of fire had momentarily distracted Magnus, but the man had regained his feet. Drake rose to meet him, the heavy fist that plowed into his midsection a clear signal Magnus had gotten his second wind.

  With an answering fist of his own, Drake resumed his search of the garage and…

  There!

  Through the open door of the office he sensed the water. A row of large jugs, the type that were used on top of a cooler, drew his attention. Without wasting any more time, he pulled on the water there, dragging it toward them and the still-burning fire.

  Drawing on every drop he could reach, Drake pulled at the water, willing it to cover the floor first, before marshaling what was left of it to aid in the fight.

  Quinn continued to grunt next to him as he engaged in battle with Eris. The fight was completely physical, and whatever reserve he and his brothers might normally have about hurting a woman wasn’t in evidence as the bull and the goddess went toe-to-toe.

  “What have you done to my sister?” Magnus grunted as he whirled away from the torrent of water that pummeled his midsection. As the force pushed Magnus back, Drake shifted his focus and forced a wave at Eris.

  “Nice one, Drake.” Quinn exhaled as the wall of water tripped up Eris in her four-inch heels.

  “I’ve done nothing to your sister except love her and accept her just as she is.” The available water supply was waning and Drake knew it was time to end this. “She’s made every glorious inch of herself all on her own.”

  Magnus wiped at the blood that pooled in the corner of his mouth. “Her abilities are amazing. Even for my family, they’re unheard of. My mother couldn’t even do that.”

  “She’s gifted.” Drake lunged the moment he saw an opening. Magnus’s midsection was exposed and the snake was recoiling on the floor. With heavy movements, Drake slammed his booted foot on the snake’s head while he rammed his shoulder into Magnus.

  The well-timed movement had the desired effect, knocking Emerson’s brother backward while using the snake tethered to his body to hold him in place.

  Although none of their tattoos could technically be ripped from their bodies, the sheer force of the battle had the snake dissolving back into Magnus’s aura, relieving him of one of his battle strengths.

  Unwilling to give Magnus time to figure out how to work around it, Drake continued his assault, his movements determined as he pressed Magnus on across the floor, until a concrete wall stopped his backward movement.

  “She’s worth so much more than you,” he gritted as he caught Magnus’s neck in a tight grip. “And yet you cause her endless pain. You throw her love back in her face.”

  “You know nothing,” Magnus grunted back, the cords of his neck sticking out with the effort of his struggle.

  “She would have helped you. Done whatever she could. Yet you shame her with what you’ve become.”

  “I’m just. Like. You.” The grip on his neck had the words coming out in whispered fits.

  “You’re nothing like me.”

  Drake felt the tide of battle shift as the fight moved in his favor. The urge to simply destroy him was a living, breathing thing inside of him, yet Drake knew it wasn’t an option.

  His duty was to rid the world of threats, but this was the brother of the woman he loved.

  Could he do that to her? Or live with himself if he did?

  Themis.

  He’d capture Magnus and call on Themis. Gain her aid to turn him back to whatever pathetic waste he was before.

  “Drake. Please.” The small hand on his forearm stopped him. Pulled him back from the internal debate on what to do with the man. “Please. You can’t hurt him.”

  “Em,” Magnus gasped out. “Make him. See reason. He’s going to kill me.”

  Her gray eyes swirled with misery and an odd sort of acceptance, as if her entire life had led to this moment. “Is there any other way?”

  “There is.”

  The complete and utter focus on Magnus had him forgetting Quinn’s battle a few feet away. The loud shout tore his attention away for a fraction of a second, but it was all Eris needed.

  A white-hot burst of light crashed over all of them with the force of a tornado. Drake lost his grip on Magnus as Emerson went flying back to land in a heap near the small office.

  “You will not take what is mine.” Eris’s voice echoed off the concrete of the garage as her hand tightened on Magnus’s shoulder.

  Before any of them could move in to stop her, the goddess and her charge disappeared into a port.

  The back porch had always offered an odd sort of comfort and this moment was no different, Drake thought as he held Emerson in his arms. It signified home as well as the end of a battle.

  He’d never known which he appreciated more, but the moment of arrival always brought out a quick instant of reflection.

  “Let’s get her inside.” Callie shifted from foot to foot as Quinn fiddled with the security system.

  Emerson had taken quite a hit off of Eris’s fireball and Drake was unwilling to put her through a port until Callie thoroughly checked her out. Add to it he hadn’t had breakfast and was fairly drained from the fight and the possibility of a bumpy ride wasn’t out of the question. She’d remained lucid, but limp in his arms for the block and a half walk back to the brownstone.

  “We’re almost there, baby,” D
rake crooned against her temple as he headed for the deep couches and warm atmosphere of the library.

  “Where do you think she took my brother?” Emerson’s voice was quiet, but her eyes were more than clear as she looked up at him.

  He laid her gently on the couch, the mix of fear and pain that rode her features an arrow to his heart. Kneeling down next to her, he linked his fingers with hers. “I don’t know.”

  “Were you going to kill him?” The words were even quieter than the last and they held a world of meaning.

  “I wanted to get him to Themis. To see if she can fix him.”

  “You weren’t going to kill him?”

  “Only if he touched you.”

  “He’s my brother, Drake. My family.” She struggled to sit up, but he gently held her still. “He wouldn’t do that.”

  “I don’t think he wants to, but he may not be able to help himself.”

  “He can’t be saved? Is that what you’re trying to tell me?”

  “Emerson, you have my word that I’ll try to get an audience with Themis to get him help.”

  “And if that doesn’t work?”

  “We won’t know unless we try.”

  Her eyes narrowed and he knew she wouldn’t be put off. “But if it doesn’t work. And he comes back.”

  “You come first.”

  Finley stared at the file on her computer, nausea churning in her gut. Why had she come here?

  Why hadn’t she listened to Grey?

  She’d fought him about coming to work, claiming she needed routine. Needed to be a part of things until he’d finally agreed.

  And now she knew exactly what she was a part of: a corrupt office with a colleague who was in way over her head.

  Her gaze skimmed over the window next to her before settling on the clock. It was well into the afternoon and she hadn’t eaten yet.

  Maybe she wouldn’t come back.

  She shot a quick text to the security detail Quinn had assigned her and Matthew texted back he’d meet her in front of the building. The man had made no secret of his dislike of waiting that far away from her, but even Grey had agreed she didn’t need to tip anyone in the DA’s office off by running around with her new accessory in tow.