Soul of the Storm (The Wardbreaker Book 2)

by Katerina Martinez

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Even as Axel’s father shoves him aside, even as he’s forced to watch the woman he was dancing with get swept away by another man—a man he hates—one voice in his head speaks louder than all the others.

  She’s breathtaking, it says.

  Her hair, blue like a clear, sunny day over a frozen lake. Her skin, tanned, despite spending most of her time indoors or out at night. She has a figure like few other women Axel has ever met in his life, slender and lithe, but strong; much stronger than she looks. In many ways, she’s like a panther—graceful, powerful, and feral at heart.

  No one will ever tame her. Better men than Axel have tried, if you believe her stories. But maybe that’s for the best. A woman like Isabella can’t be tamed. Shouldn’t be tamed. To try and cage her would be a crime against nature itself. No, best to let her be free and wild, and hope she likes you enough not to kill and eat you.

  Metaphorically speaking.

  For a moment he’d forgotten she was dancing with his father, but then he spun her out of his sight, and that broke the spell. He’d thought about marching back over there and getting in the way of them, but then he remembered why they were here. They needed to try and convince his father to give Karim up. That wasn’t going to happen unless his father thought he was the one in control.

  Catching sight of RJ and Danvers on the other side of the dance floor, he crossed over to them, trying never to lose Isabella in the press of dancers. He caught sight of Magister Eliphas as he walked, saw Becket standing in the furthest corner of the room, his red eyes glowing dimly against the brightness of the hall. Asmodius wouldn’t break the Athenaeum’s rules and try anything. Not in here. Not with so many eyes on him.

  But that meant Axel couldn’t, either.

  “How are you holding up?” Danvers asked as Axel approached.

  “Fine,” Axel said, “I just wish I knew what they were saying.”

  “I bet you wish for more than that,” RJ said.

  Axel glared at him. “What does that mean?”

  RJ shrugged. “I get it. I wanna beat his face in, too. He thinks he owns the place and everyone in it.”

  “You’re right, but we can’t make a move. We have to let her try and convince him… she’s on her own.”

  “No, she’s not. We’re here, we’re watching. We’ve got her back, and she knows it.”

  Axel paused and scanned the room. “Sure, but who’s got his back?”

  “You’re more of an expert on that than either of us. See anyone you recognize?”

  “A couple. But if I know my father, the people in here likely to make any move against us aren’t going to be hanging out inside the Athenaeum—they’ll be outside, somewhere, waiting for us to make our exit. That’s why we need to leave together.”

  “Strength in numbers,” RJ said.

  Axel nodded. “Exactly.” He gestured with a nod of his head over to the Magister. “I don’t know how much my father has told him about us.”

  “What could he have told him?” Danvers said, shrugging, “As far as the Magistrate knows, it was Hartigan who broke into the vault and stole from the Council, and he’s already at Harrowgate.”

  “Any sign of crows?” RJ asked.

  “None,” Axel said, “But I doubt they’d have come here, anyway. This isn’t their scene.”

  “That’s something, at least. I’d still feel more comfortable if I knew who your father had in his pocket around here.”

  Axel realized then he’d lost sight of Izzy and his father. Nervously, he scanned the crowd for them, wondering if they’d disappeared behind a column, or if they were being blocked by the other couples who’d taken to the dance floor once the champagne had started doing its work. When he saw her again, his father had his cheek pressed against hers.

  His blood started boiling inside of his veins, like he’d just swallowed a bottle of fire. Fury taking hold of him, he went to make a move, but RJ was fast enough to grab his arm and hold him in place. “What are you doing?” RJ asked.

  “What is he doing?” Axel hissed, trying to keep his voice down.

  “I don’t know, but what you were about to do was gonna get you put down by Legionnaires. You’ve gotta keep your cool, man.”

  Axel found himself hating his father even more, right now. The look on Izzy’s face—when they moved in a way that allowed him to see it—wasn’t one of confidence, but one of angry fear. Fear. Whatever he was saying to her had enough of an effect to shatter her confidence and bring her primal instincts to the fore.

  This wasn’t a conversation anymore; it had transformed into a cruel intimidation.

  “Get the car,” Axel said.

  “We ain’t leaving you here,” RJ said.

  “You aren’t, just do it.”

  RJ squeezed Axel’s arm and pulled him a little closer. “I know you wanna do good by her,” he said, “But starting something in here ain’t the way.”

  “I’m not starting anything, I’m just—” he lost track of her again. This time, when he tried to find her, he saw only his father. He was alone, and he was staring directly at Axel with a look on his face he’d grown up seeing. A look he was only too accustomed to. It was a look of victory. He had engaged in battle, and he’d come out on top, and now Izzy was missing.

  “Where is she?” Axel asked, frantically searching for her.

  “Shit, I don’t know,” RJ said, joining the search.

  “There!” Danvers said, pointing at the front doors leading out of the Athenaeum.

  Axel turned in time to watch them close, just about catching Izzy as she squeezed through them. Many heads had turned to watch her leave, some were whispering, now. Axel didn’t think anyone knew who she was, but they’d remember something like this if they ever saw her again. Athenaeum wasn’t a place for dramatics.

  “We need to go, now,” Danvers said.

  “I’ll try and cut her off,” RJ added, following her as she headed for the doors.

  Axel wanted to go with them, but his father was still staring at him from the dance floor, his hands in his pockets, a satisfied grin on his face; like a lion that had just devoured a gazelle. Fire in his throat and in his heart, Axel marched over to his father, stopping short of grabbing him by the lapels of his jacket.

  “What the fuck did you say to her?” Axel barked.

  Asmodius narrowed his eyes. “You look a little wound up, son,” he said, “I suggest you carefully consider your actions.”

  Axel pushed the limits of how close he could get to his father without making too big of a scene. “What did you say to her?” he growled.

  “The truth… you know I don’t enjoy lying, especially when the truth can be so much more satisfying.”

  “I swear, if you’ve done anything to hurt her—”

  “—now, Axel… don’t tell me you’re developing feelings for this girl?” Asmodius interrupted, “You and I both understand this is a… bump in the road for our family. Soon enough, you’re going to understand you made a grievous mistake when you made the decision to take a sabbatical from your real life. Maybe then, we’ll be able to laugh about this together again… as a family.”

  “I’m done listening to you. The next time we see each other again, you’d better be ready.”

  Asmodius smiled a wide, friendly smile. “That’s the second time you’ve threatened me. I’m going to give you those two for free, but I won’t tolerate a third. Do I have to reinstitute my old methods of discipline? I thought we’d put the licks behind us.”

  Axel’s mind flashed back to when he was a child, staring at himself in a mirror, his eye bruised, his lip bloodied. With his mother gone, there was nobody around to protect him against his father’s favored methods of teaching. For every time he’d step out of line, he’d have to take a lick—usually a strike with a leather belt. If he refused, or resisted, it would turn into three licks. If he cried after taking them, he’d take a clean strike to the face. Enough, most of the time, to
knock him out cold.

  He felt sick thinking about it, thinking about how he allowed this to continue; how he never stood up to his own father. He wouldn’t let himself be bullied anymore.

  Spinning around on his heel, Axel made for the door, stopping in his tracks when Asmodius called out behind him. “Oh, and Axel,” Asmodius said, “I’m disappointed you kept that necklace. Do the right thing, and destroy it.”

  Frowning, Axel started walking again, heading straight for the doors out of the Athenaeum. There were already people gathered at the front, little groups of mages inside of which hushed conversations were taking place. Out here, he could feel residual magical energy humming in the air. And at the foot of the small set of steps leading from the Athenaeum’s front door, RJ was holding a pair of red-bottomed heels.

  “Hers,” he said, and then he pointed through the woods. “Sounds like she went that way in a hurry.”

  Axel stared at the trees and pictured Izzy dashing through them, barefoot, maybe using magic to make her body move faster. Through the thick woods, he spied several flashes of distant light. Arcs of lightning pushed through the clouds, above the trees, filling the night sky with color. There was no thunder, only the slight charge in the air, evidence that she’d used magic—and a lot of it—only moments ago.

  “I’m going after her,” he said.

  “Like hell you are,” RJ stepped into his path. “We’ve gotta stick together.”

  “You need to get Becket and tell him what’s happened. I need to go after her.

  “No way, I’m going with you.”

  “Get Becket, then come and find me!” Axel called out as he ran.

  He knew he was throwing the rulebook out at this point. Going after Izzy on his own, without RJ or Danvers for support, wasn’t a good idea, but Izzy was on her own right now. All he knew was that he needed to get to her, and he needed to do it fast. If she’d used magic to get moving, there was no way he’d be able to catch up with her on foot.

  The best he could do was grab his car, speed along the road following the lightning, and hope he could find her before something happened to her.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Move.

  Just move.

  Let your instincts take you where you need to go.

  Trust them, for they won’t lie to you.

  Fly through the forest, feel the wind on your face, the leaves and branches as they break against your skin.

  Our connection draws you to me now as it always has.

  Come home, Isabella.

  I’m waiting for you.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Axel’s headlights caught a flash of blue hair just as his car ground to a halt, but by the time he got out, she was gone. Lightning ripped the sky apart, thunder grumbled. With his heart lodged in his throat, he raced toward the edge of the cliff, not sure exactly what he was really hoping to find.

  Black water frothed and foamed some distance beneath his feet. He could smell the water from up here, the salt and the brine. Little flecks of sea spray touched his face. A firework display of lightning strikes went off in the clouds, ripples of light and shadow cascading over his head and across the entire horizon itself.

  With a gut full of dread and relief, he knew, she’d made it into the Tempest.

  The lightshow flashing overhead slowly fizzled out, casting the horizon into darkness. Axel’s shadow broke in front of him, its impression catching on the glittering mist rising into the air in a furious flurry. He decided he would wait for her. When she was done, this was the spot to where she would return, and there was every chance she’d need his help getting back on her feet.

  Dizziness, nausea, confusion—these were all things waiting for every mage as soon as they made it out of the Tempest.

  He had no way of knowing how long she’d take. Maybe an hour, maybe a day, maybe ten more seconds. Time worked differently in the Tempest than it did here. There was no way to make predictions. Even his own experience in finding Phades within the Tempest wouldn’t help him because the Journey was different for every mage.

  Axel’s skin prickled, a sensation that crawled from the base of his back and all the way up his spine. Two other shadows stepped into the misty spray, their dark silhouettes flanking his. They weren’t exactly being subtle, were they? But then, that was their thing. Karkov and Delia weren’t in the business of ambushing their targets—they wanted their marks to know the crows were coming for them.

  Taking a deep, slow breath, Axel turned around.

  He couldn’t see their faces. They were like living shadows standing in the car’s headlights, their features totally obscured. Axel slid his hands into his pockets, scoffed, and shook his head. “You’re getting slow,” he said.

  “Slow?” Delia asked in a mocking tone, “You’ll have to explain what you mean.”

  “I thought you’d have found me weeks ago.”

  “Oh, we found you. But what would’ve been the purpose in making ourselves known while you were in the presence of all your new friends?”

  He could hear the contempt in her voice, and he didn’t care for it. “That makes sense. Although I don’t suppose waiting to make your move has gone down well with my father. He’s not exactly known for being a patient man.”

  “On the contrary. It was your father who suggested we wait for the right time to strike. He doesn’t want us taking any chances.”

  “Is that why he didn’t make a move at the Athenaeum?” Axel asked, “Because he knew you’d do the job for him?”

  “Not quite. You see, your father’s priorities have… changed, ever since you decided to fly the coop.”

  Axel narrowed his eyes. “Changed?”

  “I’m afraid you’re no longer someone he wants us to expend energy retrieving.”

  Karkov put in, “You are only optional,” Karkov put in.

  “Optional… I see. And I guess that means you are to bring me in alive or dead?”

  Delia nodded. “That’s right. Although, of course, if you wanted to, you could decide to simply go back home. Your chances of survival would also certainly improve if you brought him what you stole from the Magister. Speaking of which…”

  “I don’t have it,” Axel shrugged. “If you were really as good at what you do as you think you are, you’d know that by now.”

  A pause. “Where is it?” Delia asked, lowering her tone.

  Phades, Axel thought, and in an instant another shadow joined the fray—only this one would be invisible to Karkov and Delia. The vaguely human phantom descended beside Axel, his black cloak billowing against the wind, his eyes two balls of purple fire inside of his almost featureless head.

  The world around Axel suddenly became instantly clearer, as his Guardian helped his mind process his surroundings much more efficiently than normal. Every sway of a blade of grass, every single mote of sea-spray, the voice of the wind playing against his hears; little escaped his notice.

  “He has called Guardian,” Karkov said. Despite his size and brutish appearance, Karkov always had a keen sense when it came to people, much like a bloodhound.

  “Preparing for a fight?” Delia asked.

  “I’m not giving you anything,” Axel said. “If you want me to talk, you’ll have to beat it out of me.”

  “I think you underestimate our resolve,” Delia said, preparing her stance, “But if it’s a fight you want, pretty boy, then a fight you shall have.”

  Axel waited for one of them to attack first. He knew how they fought, but he wanted to gauge them first. He wanted to know what their state of minds were like, how they were feeling. That would help him determine where they would go, and how they would move, before they even took those steps.

  The best way to defeat a mage in battle was to stay one step ahead of them. That had been one of the first things his father had taught him, and arguably the sanest piece of advice he had ever been given.

  Karkov and Delia separated, each moving opposite to the other in an attempt at
flanking the spot where Axel stood. The car’s headlights were giving them the advantage of being able to easily see him, while keeping them relatively obscured. He was able to track their movements with Phades’ help, but getting out of the light was probably a good idea.

  It was Karkov who made the first move. The brute wound back his arm and fired a bolt of green magic at Axel, but Axel was quick to deflect it away. Delia came next, rapid-firing three separate spells at Axel in the course of only a few short seconds. It put him on the defensive, forcing him to step back and defend, step back and defend.

  It was that, or get hit with whatever body-wracking, Vivimantic curses the crows were keen on inflicting.

  Phades was quick to warn Axel, without having to speak, that he was being pushed closer and closer to the cliff’s edge. Not long after, he was able to feel the way the ground started to slope under his foot. He didn’t have to chance a look to know he wouldn’t be able to move another couple of steps.

  It was time to fight.

  Karkov’s hand gleamed with green light as he charged another spell. Delia, on the other hand, was pressing further and further around Axel’s position. His keen insight told him she was recharging after having launched that barrage of spells at him, and she’d need another few seconds before being able to attack again.

  Now was his chance.

  Axel threw himself into a forward roll just as Karkov blasted him with magic. The ball of green light struck the rocky ground where he’d had been standing a second ago with enough force to send chunks of it flying off the cliff. Delia barked for Karkov to hit Axel again, but Axel’s spell was already on its way to the larger of the two crows.

  A burst of red-violet light struck Karkov in the shoulder, making him stagger, shaking his head. The magic was meant to confuse and disorient him, to interfere with his sharp senses—the thing that made him dangerous. But Karkov was a Vivimancer, and a tough one at that. One hit wasn’t going to do it.