by Linsey Hall
“Good.” Iain leaned toward the door, tilting his head and listening. “Be ready for the guards. I can hear some inside.”
“I’ve got this.” Connor reached into his potion sack and withdrew a black glass orb.
I raised my brows. “What’s that?”
“Smart bomb. Good only for situations like this, where you have one of the enemy already captured.” He stopped near a fallen guard and rubbed the glass potion bomb against the guard’s cheek. Ten seconds later, he stood.
“What the heck does that do?”
“Makes the potion bomb smart.” He grinned.
Cass raised a brow, still clearly confused.
“Just watch.” He hurled the potion bomb at the floor in front of the closed door. It shattered, a plume of silver smoke curling up from the bomb. It shot around the room, moving from fallen body to fallen body.
“What’s it doing?” Cass asked.
“Looking for someone to knock unconscious. It ignores us because we’re clearly not one of the palace guard.”
“But if you’d touched it to one of us, it would attack us all, huh?”
“Yep.”
Cass grinned. “Clever.”
When the plume of black smoke could find no victims, it returned to the huge wooden door and slipped under the crack. I tilted my head, listening hard.
One by one, I heard bodies fall to the floor.
After ten seconds of silence, Connor smiled. “I’d say that’s it.”
He pushed open the doors to the throne room, striding inside without even looking.
I followed, immediately spotting the fallen guards. A dozen of them had been standing right in front of the doors, ready to attack as soon as we entered. The king and queen slumped in their chairs, unconscious.
Iain whistled. “That is very convenient. Do you have any more of those?”
“No. I just developed it and it took a while. This was a test run.”
I scowled at him. “This is a bit serious for a test run, don’t you think?”
He shrugged. “Worked, didn’t it?”
“Uh…” Cass’s voice echoed with worry. “I’m not sure it did. Look at the king and queen.”
I turned to look at them, spotting the dark mist that pooled at their feet. The darkness inside me rumbled, trying again to come to life.
“I have no idea what that is,” Connor said.
“It’s the same darkness that’s inside me.” I shivered, unable to look away.
“Yeah, my potion bomb can’t fight that,” Connor said.
The mist that had gathered at their feet crept toward us, crawling across the floor like a living thing. It coalesced to form the shape of a man, just like it had inside my head. My arm tingled in response.
Before I could raise it to attack, the figure split into four. Three of them were solid, sparkling obsidian. They looked hard as stone and were shaped like four-legged beasts of indeterminate species. They had thick bodies and big, clawed feet and squashed, dog-like heads. A rumbling growl emitted from their throats. The man-shaped figure was still made of the same misty substance that swirled with evil, and it drifted toward me.
“You guys take the beasts,” I said, my gaze glued to the threat that approached me.
The true danger came from him.
The three beasts roared then charged. Iain sprinted toward the one closest to him, sword and shield drawn. The two collided, Iain’s sword striking the beast across the neck. A massive shard of glass broke free, shattering against the ground.
Cass caught sight of it and traded her sword for a conjured mallet. She slammed her hammer against the glass monster’s head, shattering it. The creature continued moving, fast and deadly despite its headless state. It swiped out with a huge glass paw, smashing into her and throwing her against the wall. She staggered upright, shaking out her limbs. A grin stretched across her face. “So that’s how you want to play it?”
“Connor!” I drew my biggest ax from the ether and tossed it to him. He snagged it deftly out of the air and swung for the monster who attacked him.
The blade cut into the glass creature’s front legs, shattering them. The creature roared and stood up on its back legs, launching itself toward Connor. He darted out of the way quickly, coming around from the side to attack again.
My companions had it under control, but my problem was just growing bigger—literally. The smoky figure had grown to twice its size, becoming a giant of swirling black mist. I was drawn to it, the darkness inside me pulling me.
Don’t fight it.
The urge roared inside me, stilling my tattooed hand when I would have raised it.
“No.” I fought to get the words out, forcing the darkness down deep inside me. I could feel it trying to take control of my muscles. Being in the presence of more of its kind gave it energy.
I drew in a ragged breath. My arm tingled with power, and I raised it.
You can’t beat me. The words came from the figure in front of me, even though the creature had no mouth to move.
“Of course I can beat you.” My arm ached as I raised it, muscles burning as the darkness fought me from within.
You’ve got this. Puka’s warm body pressed against my side, and I drew on her strength.
The creature glided toward me, so graceful that it was even more terrifying. My heart thundered. If it reached me, it would possess me fully. Even Connor’s potion couldn’t hold it back.
My new magic roared to life inside me, burning bright and fierce. I still didn’t have full control of it, but I directed the power toward my tattooed arm, which glowed golden and bright.
The magic inside me exploded, a bolt of light that shot out of my hand and slammed into the figure’s chest. It shrieked, the mist exploding outward. I collapsed, my strength gone. Puka lunged in front of me, trying to shield me with her body.
It was unnecessary though. Through bleary eyes, I watched as the mist zipped toward the king and queen, its original hosts. They were weak still, unconscious in their chairs.
The mist disappeared back inside them, no doubt planning to recoup its strength.
I tried to drag myself upright. The chaos around me had stopped, each of the glass monsters shattered into thousands of pieces. I spotted Cass gripping her upper right arm. Blood seeped from between her fingers. Connor had a huge cut on his thigh, but he managed to stagger toward her, digging two tiny vials out of his pocket.
Puka looked at me. I’m going to go raid the bodies of the guards.
“Good luck, pal.” My voice was reedy.
Puka scampered off and Iain dropped to his knees next to me, blocking my view. “Are you all right?”
“Yeah.” Gasping, I tried to sit. Weakness surged through me. Instinct had made me shoot most of my magic at the shadowy evil, and I could barely move, every limb feeling like it weighed a million pounds.
Iain reached for me and pulled me into his arms, cradling me in his lap. He winced, and I caught sight of blood soaking through his dark shirt. The fabric parted to reveal a mean gash.
“You’re wounded.”
“Those bastards had sharp claws, but I’m fine.”
“You need a healing potion.”
“I’ve got one.” He fumbled in his pocket and handed a tiny vial to me, his eyes dark with concern. “Take this.”
“I don’t think that’s what I need. You take it.” I shoved it back to him.
“No.” His voice was firm despite the fact that his jaw was tight with pain. His eyes flashed, dark with worry.
He’d die for me.
The thought popped into my mind, and I knew it was true.
Giving me the healing potion that he so clearly needed was the least of what Iain would do for me. I could feel his concern like a physical thing.
And it wasn’t just the mate bond.
He hadn’t looked at me like this when we’d first met. No—the terrible worry in his eyes, the deep fear for me…
That was all new.
Now wasn’t the time for this.
“I’m not physically injured,” I said. “It’s my magic that is exhausted.” I cupped his cheek. “Take the potion.”
He scowled at me, then turned to Connor. “Do you have something for energy? Caera has depleted her magic.”
“I’ve got something. Be right there.” Connor drank his healing tonic, and the wound at his leg began to knit itself back together. Cass’s arm was already repaired, and she was stretching it.
Iain turned back to me.
“Take the damned healing potion,” I said, leaning against the strong arm that supported my back.
He uncorked the vial with one hand, then drank the potion quickly. He pulled me closer, wrapping me in both arms.
Warmth and strength flowed from his hands into me, imbuing me with energy. I gasped, able to sit up more easily. My gaze flicked to his. “I thought I was taking a potion for this.”
“I’m taking the potion.”
He was giving me some of his life force, just like he had before when I’d been injured. It was more powerful than any potion.
He’d made himself weaker so that I’d be stronger. In turn, he would take the energy potion from Connor to recoup what he gave me.
I pulled back, not wanting him to give me too much.
My mind flashed back to the last time he’d held me like this—after we’d escaped the underground palace of the Primordial Ones and I’d been nearly dead from blood loss.
It was times like these, when our lives were at stake and we were too weak to fake it, that I saw where our feelings truly lay.
He cared for me. Deeply.
And I cared for him.
The thought seemed to drive the darkness deeper into me, and I doubted it would have the strength to force me to say something terrible as it had earlier. The more secure I became in my feelings for him, the less weakness it had to prey on.
“How do you feel?” Iain asked.
“Better, thanks.”
His brow still furrowed with concern, he pressed a kiss to my forehead.
Connor knelt at our side, and I pulled back fully from Iain. Connor gave Iain an appraising look as he handed him the potion.
“Thanks.” Iain took it and swigged it back.
I climbed out of his lap and stood, feeling like a million bucks as I reached for his hand. He took it, but didn’t let me pull him up, rising instead under his own steam.
“I’m fine,” he said. “You can wipe that worried look off your face.”
“As soon as you wipe it off yours.” I flicked a gaze over him. “And don’t do that again. You need your magic as much as I do.”
He said nothing, but a smile tugged at the corner of his lips. It was a smile that said, “I do what I want.”
I turned from him, looking toward the king and queen. They were still out cold.
“They’ll be unconscious for another hour unless we revive them.” Connor reached into his potion pack and withdrew a couple small vials of hot pink liquid.
“Let’s move quick, then,” I said.
The four of us approached the king and queen, who were slumped over in their thrones in the middle of the room. Their hair was streaked with the gold of royalty, and their robes looked like they were alive with flame.
I held out my hand to Connor. “I’ll do the queen if you’ll do the king.”
He nodded, then turned to Iain and Cass. “Why don’t you guys move behind the thrones? We don’t want them feeling outnumbered when they wake up.”
Iain’s gaze flicked toward the bodies of the fallen guards, brows raised. I could tell what he was thinking—the king and queen were going to be freaked out no matter what. But this was the best we could do.
“I’ll be ready from behind if they fight too much when they wake,” Iain said.
“Thanks.” Connor nodded.
He and Cass retreated to the open space behind the thrones, and Connor and I approached the unconscious figures. I could sense the dark magic wafting around them—weaker than it had been, since I’d dealt a serious blow to the shadowy figure, but there nonetheless.
I caught Connor’s eye. “While they’re unconscious, can we dose them with the potion that will help them control the darkness?”
“No. They need to want to take it and control the darkness. The potions magnify the desire for control, so consent is one of the key ingredients.”
I grimaced. “Fantastic.”
“They’ll be more susceptible now, when they’re recently woken. It will work.”
I swallowed hard, hoping he was right. “Ready to wake them up?”
He nodded, then reached for the king.
Carefully, I lifted the queen’s head and poured the awakening potion between her lips. She sputtered and gasped, sitting upright and striking out. I ducked her blow, then darted backward a few steps. The king woke with a gasp. “What the hell is going on?”
The queen struck out again. Iain stepped toward the back of her throne, but I shook my head slightly. He stopped dead still.
The queen glared at me. “What are you doing here? What’s happened to my guards?”
I raised my hands. “You’ve been possessed by the same dark evil that cursed our people, but we have a potion that will help you regain control. Will you take it?”
“Get away from me,” the queen hissed.
Oh fates, this wasn’t going to work.
6
The queen hissed at me, raising her hand so that a ball of fire glowed at her palm. “You have come without an invitation.”
“Um. Yeah.” I looked toward the king, who was gripping his temples tightly. “You need to take this potion. You’ll feel better, I swear.”
“What kind of potion?” his voice sounded weak and strained.
“It’s meant to magnify your desire for control,” Connor said. “A mixture of wolfsbane, amber dust, thistle root, and Fae magic.”
The king raised a shaking hand. “Give it to me. I feel the darkness. It shouldn’t be there.”
Connor handed him the potion, but the queen reached out and smacked it away.
Iain dived from behind the throne, snagging the potion out of the air before it smashed to the ground.
The king shot out of his throne and gripped the queen’s arms. He looked deeply into her eyes. “Hesperia, get ahold of yourself. This isn’t like you.”
She struggled, trying to break away. “You don’t know what’s like me.”
“Of course I do. It’s me, Ossian. I know you. And this isn’t it.” He shuddered hard, and I could tell that he was fighting the darkness within him. If we didn’t get the potion into him soon, he might lose the battle.
“This is the way it’s meant to be, Ossian. Don’t you see?” the queen’s voice vibrated with intensity.
“No, Hesperia. It’s not.” He pulled her close and hugged her, resting his forehead against hers. “Come back to me. This isn’t you.”
It was strange to see such a tender moment between the normally cold king and queen. But it seemed to work. The queen shivered, then pulled back.
She looked around the king’s head, her gaze meeting mine. Something seemed to clear behind her eyes, as if she now recognized me. “Caera?”
I nodded. “I was possessed as well, but the potion helped me. The darkness is still inside me, but it’s not in control anymore. The potion will help, I promise. My brother is a genius with them.”
Her gaze moved to Connor, her expression assessing. “I recall that. Before you left us.”
“To go with my sister. I never agreed with how that was handled. Evicting her was unfair.”
But we’d been too young to fight it. Coming with me had been the most he could do, and I’d love him forever for it.
“It was the best way to protect her.” She looked toward Iain. “From him.”
“That’s not a concern anymore.” Iain’s voice was gruff, and
the queen’s mouth tightened.
“No, it’s not, is it? You have certainly changed your tune regarding Caera here.” Her gaze turned knowing. “You’d die for her, wouldn’t you?”
It was as if the queen had read my mind from earlier, but the question was so intensely personal that I cringed.
Iain didn’t, though. He stood straight. “I would.”
His voice was so strong that it seemed to imbue my spine with some strength. I hated discussing emotions around strangers, and I had a feeling it wasn’t his thing either, but he wouldn’t hide from this. His gaze met mine, but I looked away.
The queen gestured to the guards on the floor, and her voice turned dark. “Are they dead?”
“Unconscious,” Connor said. “They’ll be fine in an hour.”
“Then give me the potion.” Her voice was weak, shaky.
I rushed to her side and handed the small vial to her. Behind her, Cass shifted lightly on her feet, clearly ready to jump for the potion if the queen chucked it.
The king held out a hand, and Iain handed him the other tiny vial.
The king and queen swigged the potions back at the same time, their eyes immediately going bright.
The queen gasped. “I feel so much better.”
The king shook his head as if clearing it. “What’s going on? I thought you banished the curse. Why is it inside us?”
I shook my head. “Not entirely. I did what I could, driving it from the land and our people. They are still cured. But we… the curse managed to get into me somehow. And into you.”
“It targeted us.” The king rubbed his head. “It wants control, and we’re the best way to get it.” The king stood and gestured for us to follow. “Come, let us sit.”
The king and queen led us to a table by the fire. They took the chairs in front of the flames, and the four of us sat across from them.
The queen’s gaze moved appreciatively to Iain. “I know who you are.” Her eyes moved to Cass, who’d sat next to me. “But what about you?”
“This is my friend, Cass Clereaux,” I said. “She’s an expert tracker.”
I didn’t tell people that Cass was a FireSoul. That was her secret to tell—not mine. Especially since it was the kind of secret that could get one thrown into the Prison for Magical Miscreants. The Order of the Magica was clear about its fear and hatred of FireSouls, who were so powerful that they were considered a threat.
