CHAPTER TWELVE
“They didn’t matter anyway. I only wanted you.” Marc came within a few feet of me, probably sensing that my magical strength had waned. When he saw that I didn’t make a move to cast a spell, he came closer until he stood right in front of me. He peered into my eyes—and I stared right back, despite feeling so vulnerable.
“I’m no one important.”
“Are you sure about that, Miss George?”
“What did you call me?” I felt a nauseating shock run through me like an electric current. He made me think of the other Cruenti and the warlocks that had attacked that night at Éclat. Despite my surprise, my anger began to rise as I realized someone had betrayed me; whether this traitor worked within SOE or the Maquis, I swore I would root them out.
“I know who your father is and I believe you’re worth tracking down.”
“You’re Marcellus...” With a quick movement of my hand, I tried to stab a reverse fixation symbol into him like I did with Isidore at the university, but his hand shot out and grabbed my wrist, twisting and squeezing it until it cracked. I shrieked in pain and dropped my knife. I balled my fist and swung a right hook, but he grabbed that wrist as well. As I began to work my body magic on him, I spoke to him as a distraction.
“Who told you about me?” I pushed the pain from my mind and concentrated on feeling for any weak points in his body.
“A friend of yours...” He pulled me against him, his eyes gleaming with greed. As he lowered his head and breathed in my scent, I could feel his lips on my neck, and I acted.
I sent a rush of energy into him that would’ve stopped his heart and killed him. Instead, I only had enough strength to interrupt his natural rhythm and make his body jolt. Blood spewed from his nose and mouth and he roared in pain. I wasted no time in tearing myself loose and delivering a high kick to his head. I grabbed my silver knife, and with quick methodical flicks, drew a large triangle for Fire. As the air around Marc began to spark and crackle, several flames formed in mid-air and came crashing down on him, but he quickly repelled them.
When I saw that my spells were becoming less effective because of my fatigue, I scrambled toward the car without looking back. I fumbled around and cursed under my breath when I realized Ken had the key, and so I ran over to Marc’s car, started it, and sped away. As I swerved onto the main road, I kept my right hand on the steering wheel and carefully began feeding small bursts of energy into mending my injured left wrist. I cried when I felt the bone reset, and when the torn sinews beneath refused to heal all the way, I wanted to curse again. Suddenly, an explosion from behind hit the car, sending me spinning out of control.
I hardly had time to brace myself for impact. I erected a weak protective shield when the car slid in its final spin and the rear end collided with a tree. The crash made a deafening sound and for a moment all I could see was a terrifying darkness. When I forced my eyes to focus, I felt my shoulders stiffen and blood drip down the side of my face. My heart raced as I slipped my silver knife into my uniform pocket and leaned to the side to empty out the glove compartment. I found a short dagger made of steel and a revolver. I took the gun.
My legs folded and kicked when Marc jumped on me from the driver side. He grabbed my legs and tried to pull me outside, but I shot him in the chest. He backed away and disappeared. Just as I sat up, his hands came crashing through the passenger side window and knocked the revolver out of my hand. He wrapped one arm around my neck and the other tore away my nurse’s headdress. I tried to pry his arm away, but he was intent on strangling me.
Taking the chance that his avarice outweighed his rage, I managed to tell him through stifled breaths, “If you kill me...like this...my blood will...be no good.”
His moment of faltering was all I needed to grab the steel dagger and drive it into his neck. I heard a bone-chilling gurgle as he let go of me. I reclaimed the revolver and crawled through the driver side, thinking that I had at least bought myself another minute since he’d have to dislodge the knife and regenerate. I started to run when I heard an eerie sound in the air that made me freeze in place. It started off as a large whoosh, and then I heard a guttural sound as if someone, or something, was trying to speak.
My legs numbed and I dropped to my knees. With unsteady hands, I checked how many bullets were left in the revolver. I couldn’t die...not tonight. I took a shot at the dark figure in the air. It blotted out some of the stars in the sky. I missed, and in vain, I shot my last two bullets at it.
I leaned forward on my knees and clenched my teeth as my stomach cramped. My chest tightened as I heard a loud screech that made the air fluctuate and push me completely to the ground. My body was numb. All I could see and taste was the cool soft earth. I didn’t even flinch when Marc caught up to me and pulled me to my feet. He stood behind me, gripping me around my waist so that I couldn’t break away. His other arm crossed my shoulders, and for a moment I thought he might try to strangle me again.
“Look at it, Isabella.” He moved forward with me, toward the Black Wolf that had landed. “And people have the gall to say Cruenti are abominations.”
The Black Wolf wore all black garb and a silver hood that covered most of its face. I could see the bottom of its nose and mouth, which made me sick to look at, because it reminded me of a bat’s.
“Don’t...” I dug my feet into the ground, trying to impede Marc from bringing us closer. There was no way in hell I was going near that thing, at least not without a fight.
“Perhaps I should introduce you.” He pushed me forward again.
“No!” I shouted, as the Black Wolf hissed at me. Marc gestured for it to keep its distance.
“Black Wolves trade most of their humanity for their powers. Look at him: he can barely speak, but he’s very cunning and strong enough to use his magic to kill his target.”
“Are you any better?” I still writhed in pain from my injured wrist. “One minute you want to hunt me down and capture me, and the next you want to kill me. You’re losing it already, aren’t you?”
Our reason governed our logical decisions, sat in judgment as our conscience, and made up an essential part of what made us human. Cruenti warlocks all eventually degenerated and lost this faculty.
“I am above the Wolves, Isabella. So is Octavian. We’ll never become like them.”
The Black Wolf crouched to the ground and then crawled toward us with unnatural movements of its limbs. It didn’t even bother to walk upright anymore. I sank down in an attempt to get out of Marc’s grasp, but it was useless. When the Black Wolf came close enough, I kicked it in the face as hard as I could. It screeched and tried to bite my foot off.
“This one’s mine!” Marc swung me halfway out of reach.
The Black Wolf crouched again, clicking its mouth open and shut. A dark red Circle shot up around us, one I never saw before. It enclosed us all inside so quickly, that it felt like I was suffocating.
“What did I tell you?” Marc said to the Black Wolf as he raised his arm and formed a gesture with his hand. The Circle broke, and the Black Wolf began crawling on all fours again, slowly circling us.
“What do you want from me?” I asked, thankful I could at least still talk with Marc.
“Where’s Carson?”
“I don’t know.”
“We’ll know soon enough. He’ll come for you if he knows I have you—then it’ll be settled.”
“What are you talking about?”
“When your father disappeared in Rome, several warlocks boasted about finishing him off. I killed them all, and thought, if they couldn’t beat me, then they sure as hell couldn’t beat Carson George. I knew he was alive, and it was only a matter of time before I figured out that Carson wasn’t hiding from the Black Wolves, but from the Gray Tower. He’s a Drifter.”
“You psychotic...is that why you took Heilwig? Because of my father?”
Damned liar. Manipulator. I refused to fall for his mind games.
“I took Heilwig because Octavian wa
nted him to make those weapons for Hitler. Octavian still isn’t even convinced that your father is a Drifter. I just wanted Veit so I could rip his throat out and steal his powers. He wasn’t meant to survive this anyway, and I will have him in the end. But you don’t have to die here. You can come meet Octavian yourself.”
“And be used as bait for my father?” Or worse, Octavian’s dinner?
The Black Wolf came toward me again. It opened its bat-like mouth, but this time Marc shoved me forward. I screamed, “All right! I’ll go!”
Marc spoke to the Black Wolf with a grating voice in a language I didn’t understand. He must’ve given it a command, because the Black Wolf backed away and then flew up into the air and left us. While Marc had been speaking to the Wolf, I had gathered every last ounce of my remaining energy to attempt another spell on him.
I acted and went for his heart again, but with a roar he repelled me once more and threw me to the ground. I landed hard and had my breath knocked out of me, but it didn’t stop me from grabbing handfuls of his hair and diverting his teeth away from my neck. I punched him as hard as I could.
The earth beneath us suddenly quaked, and the ground exploded. I felt a tingling sensation in my toes that rose up my legs, then my back, and all the way up to the top of my head. The air changed; it smelled different, and for a moment it grew dense at my fingertips. I only reacted that way when an elemental wizard did magic.
“Brande...”
Everything seemed to unfold in slow motion. Marc turned and caused sparks to dance in the air until they merged and formed flames around Brande. The fire came crashing down on him, but he only absorbed the flames and sent them flying right back toward Marc. He shielded himself from Brande’s reciprocal spell, but I had already created a Circle of Healing with my silver knife and welcomed the fire.
All around me I could see the bright white flames encircling me, and the roar of the curative blaze raged in my ears as it drowned out the sounds of battle. My full strength returned, and my physical injuries were healed. When my restoration was complete, the Circle of Healing subsided and disappeared.
Marc pulled out two searing red daggers. He hurled them toward Brande, and as the daggers went flying, Marc also forced a nearby tree to come plummeting down onto him. One dagger missed, but the other had grazed Brande’s arm. He barely kept the tree from crushing him by commanding the soil to rise and form a barrier. Marc swung around and came toward me, but I activated an Air symbol and sent him flying back with a gust of wind. He rose to his feet and lurched backward when a man with a silver sword came from the same direction Brande had—and nearly decapitated Marc.
I immediately rejoined the fight, rushing toward Marc. He still fought with the swordsman, and I positioned myself to strike at him. He quickly backed away from both of us, knowing good and well that if he tried to block my strikes, that he would be vulnerable to the swordsman.
“Leave us, sorcerer!” The swordsman made a sweeping arc with his sword and diverted a spell of blindness that Marc sent whirling toward us.
Marc grunted with frustration when he saw he was at a disadvantage. He retreated, evaporating into a black mist and leaving an ominous air about us. I turned toward the swordsman, and our gazes met. I noticed for the first time that he wore a Roman collar.
“Gabriel di Crocifissa, at your service.” He inclined his head and sheathed his sword. With a single gesture, he quenched the remaining flames that began burning the surrounding foliage.
I tentatively shook his hand. “I...don’t think I’ve ever seen a sword-wielding priest.”
“Gabriel is not your typical priest.” Brande approached, slightly hunched and moving as if he ached all over. He had a cut above his left eyebrow and he slowly flexed his left arm where the dagger grazed him. He would’ve lost that arm if the weapon went straight in. Even though he used body magic to close the wound, it still caused him pain.
“I thought you were back at the Gray Tower.” I wrapped my arms around his neck since it seemed to be the only body part that didn’t hurt. I gave him a hug. Standing on the tips of my toes because of his height.
“I was south of here in the Provence region. I told you it would be more difficult to make it back to the Gray Tower.”
“Well, I’m glad you were still in France. I didn’t know how much longer I was going to last.”
“What were you doing here?”
“I destroyed those weapons that the alchemist Veit Heilwig had made, but the factory was a dead end, and I can’t find the laboratory he’s in. And Brande, the Nazis were forcing him to make those weapons. Why didn’t anyone ever tell me Veit had trained at the Gray Tower?”
“Brande! This way!” Gabriel ran ahead and flagged down an approaching car. I could tell by his excitement that he recognized the driver.
“Where did you find him?” I asked, walking side by side with Brande toward the car. I gazed into his clear gray eyes, and wiped some dust and dirt from his dark hair.
“I ran into him in Salon-de-Provence. He had disguised and embedded himself among Mussolini’s men. He’s coming to the Gray Tower as an emissary from the Vatican.”
We greeted the young woman in the car and got in. Gabriel sat in the passenger seat, exchanging a few words with her and introducing us as the car pulled off. “Brande, this is Adelaide, an SOE agent. Her father is a dear friend of mine.”
Brande said hello once more before letting out a sigh and slouching in the backseat.
“I’m Noelle, I’m also SOE.” We exchanged smiles.
“Pleased to meet you. When I heard Mathieu Perrine’s broadcast tonight, I came out patrolling the area. I’ve never seen so many SOE agents and Maquisards on the move.”
“Tonight turned out to be an important night,” Gabriel said as he turned toward me. “I hear you’ve brought down another factory.”
“With plenty of help.” I smiled at Brande. He had fallen asleep.
“Where do you need me to take you all?” Adelaide asked.
“I need to go back to Paris—to Renée Apolline’s house.” I would be wasting my time going back to find Ken. Knowing him, he’d already be headed to Renée’s in hopes of meeting me there. We had agreed to always regroup at our last safe house if we ever got split up.
“I will go with you, then.” Gabriel’s gaze met mine in silent affirmation of his intent to stay with us.
I began to wonder why.
The Tower's Alchemist (The Gray Tower Trilogy, #1) Page 18