by K. F. Breene
“Let’s hope this week doesn’t frazzle him more, if this is the way he reacts to nerves.”
She paused for a moment, serious again. “It won’t last a week. It will only last as long as it takes for me to get a clear shot off at Elliot Graves.”
Twelve
The limo rolled up to a large tunnel in the center of the mountain. A cement arch curved over the narrow, two-lane road. Past the entrance, there was only darkness.
“This is fine,” I said into the deathly quiet limo, my heart nearly choking me. “This is okay. Ivy House is shadowy too, and it’s lovely.”
But it wasn’t lovely, Ivy House. It was a nightmare for anyone who wasn’t welcome, which was nearly everyone.
“Does it have animated dolls? That’s the question,” I said.
Austin still held my hand. He gave it a squeeze but didn’t comment. He’d put his game face on. Normally that would make me less nervous, because he would surely have my back, but in this situation there was probably very little in the world that would have eased my anxiety.
The car entered the tunnel, and that thick, choking darkness washed over us. The driver must have turned on his lights, but I couldn’t see my hand in front of my face. How could he see the road?
“Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap, it’s happening. We’re going to be attacked.” My magic ballooned around us, and my power ripped outward, seeking out danger. It found some sort of spell promoting blindness. I tried to blast through it and took out the window instead. Glass shattered, but the limo shuddered and kept moving. I belatedly thought to try the door. Locked. “We are not in his power,” I reminded myself in a whisper as panic ate at me. “No one has power over me!”
I fired off spells as quickly as I could, no idea how to counter whatever was making me blind but figuring I could create havoc in the meantime.
“Get clear,” I yelled at Austin.
His hand ripped free of mine, and I felt him practically dive forward in the limo. I could’ve just shielded him from what I was about to do, but I was acting faster than I was thinking, and that thought was belated as well.
I slammed a spell into the door. The back tire bounced into the air, the sound and sensation jarring as it came back down. Metal squealed and twisted. More glass shattered. Finally, the door ripped off and cool air gushed in, smelling of exhaust.
Darkness still cocooned me. The limo slammed to a stop.
“Do not go out that door,” Austin growled, clearly realizing I’d blasted it off. He didn’t need to tell me twice. I was no fool.
I tried a ball of light, but the magic creating the darkness swallowed it almost immediately. I tried again, and this time I pumped all my power into it. I didn’t care if it morphed the spell into something unexpected. I needed to see!
Before I fired it out of the limo, I felt out my people through the link and put a protective spell around them, making it a little larger to encompass the shifters I knew were near them. That done, I let loose.
White cracks formed within the blackness, spiderwebbing out. They grew and spread, almost like pressure fractures in a wall or cement. My spell was battling that of Elliot Graves, power against power. We’d see if I was any match for him.
While I waited for the verdict, not able to pump more power into the spell after shooting it off, I threw magical bombs, blasting the other door off and blowing out the rest of the limo’s side windows.
“Am I magically covered?”
“Hah!” I slapped out my hand in a stupid karate chop, uselessly striking Austin’s shoulder. I hadn’t heard him crawl back toward me. “Yes, yes, yes, though some of my more adventurous spells might physically jolt you.”
He squeezed my knee and brushed past me as he exited the limo from the hole on the other side, where the door used to be. Or so I thought. I obviously couldn’t see my handiwork.
Light forced its way through the inky blackness like the roots of a great oak, undaunted by the resistance, undeterred in its goal. I blasted the area directly in front of us, behind the next limo up, and heard metal pop, followed by a heavy thud, like bouncing.
I felt my people scramble toward the right, hurrying. Austin was around the back of the limo, already heading back toward me, moving faster than a non-shifter could, relying on his other senses to show him the way.
My magic blossomed through the sky, peeling back the blackness. It showered the curved sides of the great tunnel and shone against the mangled metal around me. Glass spread across the cement outside my door, Austin stepping on it in his fine suit, his hands at his jacket edges, ready to strip if he needed to change. A moment later, my stomach dropped.
My people were all standing on a cobblestone sidewalk in front of a large entryway, their eyes wide, hands hanging at their sides as they gaped at me. Behind them, glass littered the floor. What had once been a large glass double door was now a hole. Men and women in red suits, like hotel staff, cowered in the corners of the large room beyond with their arms over their heads.
Austin let go of his jacket and smoothly stepped toward me. I could feel his utter delight through the link but had no clue why.
My spell drifted away, taking the lingering blackness with it, and I noticed the lovely ornate gas lanterns suspended by chains above the road, the magical flames purple, blue, and pink. It almost reminded me of the crystals at the core of Ivy House. More lights glowed from the sides of the tunnel, highlighting the narrow road, the yellow line down the middle easy to see.
Given a couple of the limos had made their way to the curb and the rest were in the process of doing so, I suspected only the passengers had been magically blinded. Though, given the fact that everyone had made their way to the little sidewalk in front of the destroyed doors, maybe the others hadn’t been blinded for long. They’d all known exactly where to head when they (clearly) thought I was about to blow them up.
Smoke rose from one of the limos in front. I could just see another with the trunk all twisted. Someone’s luggage had probably suffered from that one.
Absolutely no one moved in the ensuing silence.
“So…” The glass crunched under my stiletto as I stepped forward, my voice echoing around the cavernous space. The late-afternoon sunlight shone through the large tunnel entrance behind me. “That was some sort of welcome, was it? Some sort of magical…howdy-do?”
“Maybe you should’ve taken some of that chocolate Ex-Lax,” Ulric said, and the pressure released. The people in red coats slowly pulled their arms away from their heads, peering over their shoulders. Limo drivers poked their heads out from around the ruined entrance, seeing if the coast was clear. Cyra’s fire swirled around her, and everyone else gave her a lot more room than she actually needed.
“Seems to me,” Mr. Tom said to Niamh, “that you failed to tell her that mages typically give a show of their power when their guests first arrive.”
“That might’ve slipped me mind, yes,” Niamh said, dusting the glass from her shoulder. “But now we know that our Jessie has more power.”
“Shh.” Mr. Tom batted at her, then looked upward and into the corners of the door. “They might have surveillance out here.”
“She’s not telling them anything they didn’t just realize.” Hollace stepped forward and looked away from us, down the long tunnel and out the small hole on the other side. “What should we do about the basajaun?”
“Did he run?” I asked in disbelief, slipping my hand through Austin’s held-out arm. I could feel the basajaun now, walking back toward us.
Mr. Tom sniffed. “Your limo driver took off running like a coward. The basajaun went after him. Apparently he didn’t like the idea of anyone getting away. Cyra, you are making black spots on the cobblestone. For a centuries-old soul, you are horribly bad at containing your magic.”
“It’s harder to control after rebirth,” Cyra said. “Doubly hard after many rebirths in a short period of time. It usually takes me a few months to level out.”
“I never thought
I’d miss the dolls,” Hollace said. “Let’s hope there’s a lot of rock in this place, which won’t catch fire, or I’m going to be sprinting out of here like the basajaun. Only I won’t be trying to catch anyone.”
“Niamh didn’t tell you about the show Elliot Graves would put on either, huh?” I asked Austin quietly as everyone set to work wrestling the luggage out of the trunks with twisted metal. Thankfully, they all (loudly) blamed it on Niamh.
“She did—” Austin cut off as he walked me through the ruined glass doors and then stopped, surprise blistering through the link.
He’d clearly expected some dark series of tunnels, small spaces carved into the rock with low ceilings, rough rock walls, and uneven ground. And if not that, something other than the luxurious setup before us.
Cream walls rose to the curved ceiling, sporting a rectangular square of muted light surrounded by thick white paneling. A large gold chandelier hung from the middle of the ceiling, dripping with crystals. The metal frame curled up and supported a candle with a flickering magical flame. A design of large blue flowers with darkened violet middles was painted on the walls, their deep brown stems painted close to the ceiling so the blooms hung downward, with pops of yellow birds flying or sitting within them.
“That reminds me of the flowers you got me on our first date,” I mumbled, tracing their path along the walls. “Different flowers but similar color scheme.”
In contrast to the white paneling around the glowing patch of light, dark baseboards lined the floor and the large open doorways leading away from the front room. A couple of blue velvet chairs, the same shade as the flowers on the walls, waited in front of us, pushed up against a small table as though inviting us to sit until our accommodations were ready. There were more small seating areas beyond that, situated in front of large ornate mirrors to make the room look bigger.
“Niamh did tell me he’d put on a show,” Austin said, picking our conversation back up as he guided me to the chair setup. I sat down happily enough. There was plenty of luggage outside, but I wasn’t supposed to help my people get it. This week, I would act like some sort of duchess, expecting everyone to do everything for me. I wasn’t all that put out by that.
He sat down in the other chair. “Given your reaction, however,” he continued, “I assumed we were being magically attacked.”
“I mean…we were. With blindness. I feel like that’s an attack.”
“It can certainly be construed as such.” Austin crossed an ankle over a knee and extended his arm until it was resting across the back of my chair. “Not all mages give a show of their power. If the host knew the mages he’d invited were more powerful, for example, he wouldn’t take the risk. A more powerful mage would tear the spell down and send a message, not only for the hosting mage, but for everyone else at the…meetup. Or party. Elliot Graves put on a show to declare that he is the most powerful mage here. He holds all the cards.”
“And by tearing it down…”
“You’ve just sent your message.”
“Except I didn’t know I was doing it,” I whispered.
“You knew exactly what you were doing. You just didn’t know it was a statement. You also wrecked his transportation and blew a hole in the side of his—certainly warded—front door. If there was ever a question of who had more power, you just answered it. We just have to be more careful now, is all.”
“Why is that?”
“Because he’ll know that, head to head, your brawn will win. If he comes at you, it’ll be from behind. When you least expect it.”
Thirteen
Sebastian sat at his desk and watched the cameras in utter delight. The heir of Ivy House had made an entrance that would be gossiped about for years to come. Her team apparently hadn’t alerted her to the protocol at one of these things, and wow, he marveled at her sense of survival and her reactions in a tight situation. Blowing out the limo doors and the entrance? Scaring the staff?
That display would create fear-soaked rumors that would travel to the other mages, no problem. She was wild and unpredictable. Incredibly powerful. She’d broken Sebastian’s spell from the inside out. Cracked it open like an egg. No finesse, no meticulous approach, just brute strength.
No one else would be able to counteract that spell. Not in the time allotted. The drivers had been given precise instructions on how fast to drive from the start of the tunnel until they pulled up to the curb. Not even Sebastian could work a counter-spell—or counter-curse, if you wanted to be dramatic—in that amount of time. Not with the precision it required.
Still, every single mage he’d invited would try to do the impossible. They’d experience the power of the spell for themselves, which would make it even more difficult for them to believe she had torn it down. They’d probably tell themselves the staff had gotten it wrong. Or maybe they’d convince themselves the shifters—the animals—had wrecked the place.
But that would scare them, too. This was a no-lose situation. Ivy House would be proud of her heir’s debut in the magical world; Sebastian would make sure of it. He might die for his troubles, but magic was risky.
The huge and hairy basajaun entered the screen on the main camera, angled to pick up the loading zone. The basajaun held his prize, a scared-senseless driver who would almost assuredly quit and take whatever punishment he was given. Sebastian wasn’t sure he blamed the guy.
The driver hung upside down, his palms over his face and his ankles captured in one of the basajaun’s giant hands. It was the worst game of peekaboo the world had ever known. For that driver, anyway.
“Sir, the living quarters are ready for— What in the…”
“Yeah, yeah.” Sebastian motioned to Nessa, his right-hand woman, organizer of all things, and the only person he could really call a friend in the magical world. “Get a load of this.” He pointed at the screen, then gestured to all the other screens showing the entranceway and tunnel.
“Oh wow.” Nessa leaned closer, pointing at the basajaun. “You weren’t kidding. Holy hell, that thing is huge.”
“And ferocious. Seriously, you will pee your pants, I am telling you. I hope they sign up for the trials. I half wish they didn’t have to be a secret until the last minute so I could have gotten a general feel for if she’d go for it.”
“She wants to kill you. She’ll sign up.”
“Let’s not dwell on the details.”
“She did all that? Or did the shifters help?”
“No, no. She did all that. Amazing, right? She literally blew through my magic. Like…blew it up, I mean.”
She gave him a look that was half amused and half perturbed. “Normal mages wouldn’t be tickled by that fact.”
“And they also wouldn’t get the opportunity to train an ancient, fabled magic that will dwarf all other magics.”
“If she doesn’t kill you first,” Nessa said dryly. “Your sister didn’t finish her Sight.”
A heart attack had knocked Sebastian’s sister out of her trance right before she made it to the outcome of the final battle. She’d died five minutes later, before they could get help.
Sebastian had been preparing for years, counting down to this meeting, with the blind hope that the heir wouldn’t kill him in the final moment. He very well might have been planning his death all this time. It was a helluva leap of faith, but he’d clung to his sister’s dying words, which she’d struggled to say right before giving in to eternal night. “You must…walk this journey. You must follow the stars.”
Follow the stars. It sounded lofty and full of purpose. Or so he hoped. It was what he’d clung to this last decade.
The waiting was almost over. The pivotal scene was upon them.
He was doing everything he could not to think about it. His elaborate game of cat and mouse with the other mages showing up would hopefully distract him from the possibility that he might be about to follow Jala into death.
“Oh…hel-lo.” Nessa looked at the screen showing the waiting area. An attend
ant had stopped next to the couple, no doubt relaying the information that their rooms were ready. The alpha stood, helping Jessie up after him, both of them dressed to the nines. “He is all man.”
“Don’t even think it.” Sebastian put his hand in front of the screen. “Don’t even look. Ever. Eyes and especially hands off him, unless you want a world of hurt.”
“Don’t worry, I’m not going to try to steal the heir’s man. But I don’t mind looking, not one bit. You said he was in shape; you didn’t say he was a god. The guy is H-O-T, hot.” She fanned her face, nearly salivating.
“Seriously, Nessa, I’m not joking. That female gargoyle is entering the mating phase—or maybe she’s in it by now—and she will literally tear your face off and wear it like a party favor if you encroach on her territory. That man is her territory. Do not pass go; do not collect two hundred dollars. He likes violence, too. He’ll like watching what she does to you.”
“All right, all right,” she said softly, her gaze still lingering on Austin. “He’s incredibly handsome, though. And just…so…masculine. They don’t make mages like that.”
“They don’t make shifters like that either, I think. From what I’ve seen, he’s unusual for his kind. More powerful and more intense. It has something to do with his father and mother—I couldn’t get a straight answer out of anyone. They only trusted me when Jessie was around, and I didn’t want to make her suspicious by asking too many questions. Just wait until you meet him in person, though. He is terrifying. More so than the basajaun. Or the phoenix. Or the thunderbird. Or even the vampire. That one is wily, the vampire. Half the time, he didn’t make sense—he’d just pop up next to me randomly, offering some strange sort of floral anecdote. He kept giving me doilies, too. Oddly shaped doilies. I couldn’t tell if it was a threat or a joke or… He really unnerved me—I got the feeling he was intentionally trying to disorientate me. He definitely didn’t trust me, that was clear. I think he knew I was hiding something. I kept waiting to turn around and find him sinking his fangs into my neck. It was a crazy couple of weeks.”
