Shifting Loyalties

by Patti Larsen

  Piers took my hand as I stepped away from Maksym. “Now,” I said. “Where's the Czar?”

  The big werewolf's face hardened, eyes sparking with anticipation. “I can lead you there,” he said, guttural voice full of fury and heavy with his accent. “With pleasure.”

  Our werewolf escort formed up around us as I followed Maksym across the room, leaving the dead sorcerers behind.

  “That was close,” Piers whispered in my ear.

  “Story of my life,” I whispered back. “Give me a hand, would you?” I reached for him, my sorcery touching the edge of his. “We need to shield them from the Czar so he can't use them against us.”

  Piers nodded, his magic flowing into mine easily, as though he'd done something like this before. I flinched at the sharing, feeling like he was suddenly in my space. The emptiness of our mutual power was gone as his being joined with mine.

  My, he sent, voice rich and deep as it echoed inside me. What a lovely soul you have.

  Heat rushed to my cheeks as his power stroked me in places he really shouldn't have been. I slapped him abruptly, though not harshly, and did my best not to grin as he laughed and retreated with reluctance.

  Focus, I sent. Like this. I showed him the webbing network of shielding I'd adopted so many years ago, during the days I hated magic. Now adapted to my sorcery, it formed a powerful net around myself and, with his help, the werewolves.

  I could feel I’d impressed him, heard his low mental whisper of admiration. And wouldn’t you know, Piers was a fast learner. Within seconds, a hard shell of sorcery surrounded us. Yes, I could have done it myself, but I needed to be able to defend us with my other magicks when the time came and having Piers there for support meant I could let him take on the bulk of the focus to keep the shield in place.

  His mind shuddered as I pulled back and let him support the network, still feeding him power.

  Sydlynn Hayle, he whispered in my mind, I worshipped you before. But now, I'm absolutely in awe.

  Smarty pants, I sent. Just hold the shape and we'll be fine.

  You think I’m joking, he sent before falling silent.

  Maksym led us in a stomping charge through the palace, out of the wing we were in and into more lived-in sections, bright with light and rich with wealthy accoutrement. A few human servants ran before us, terror on their faces, but we didn't encounter any more werewolves or their horrible sorcerer handlers.

  It wasn't until we burst through a large door I realized where he'd taken us. But, to my frustration, the Czar wasn't in his throne room. The huge room echoed hollow with the sound of our marching feet as I stomped my way to the base of the throne dais and spun on Maksym with a scowl.

  “Now where?”

  He shook his head, shoulders stooping. “He should be here,” he said. “He is always here.”

  The other werewolves nodded, muttered in Ukrainian.

  Okay, so we had to do it the hard way. I reached out around me, siphoning off a little sorcery to tie into my demon, vampire and Sidhe power, searching for the Czar. The place was gargantuan, but it was faster to skim using my mind than to tromp our way physically around the acres of property.

  After a thorough search of the palace, I came up empty.

  All but for the black zone.

  “Could they be hiding in the prison area?” I thought of Charlotte. I should have gone after her first.

  Maksym shook his head. “No, not there. If he is not in the palace, he has fled.”

  A soft cheer of victory rose from the werewolves, but I wasn't joining them in their happiness. I'd left far too many enemies behind to raise havoc later and refused to do so this time.

  As my magic slowly retreated, I felt the subtle touch of someone I did know. But not on the main level of the building. Underground. I latched onto the whisper of Charlotte's soul through the fluttering black goop, which had weakened for whatever reason, allowing part of her through. My body jerked in response to the discovery.

  “What's down there?” I jabbed at the floor beneath my feet, remembering the sight of the fallen weres and sorcerers in the hall Piers destroyed even as Charlotte’s presence winked out before coming back into my awareness again.

  “Tunnels.” Maksym spun and strode off. “Of course, the passageways. This way.”

  “Not this time.” I reached for the veil and tore it open. “There's a faster route from A to B.”

  The werewolves shuddered at the sight of the glowing amber opening even as Ahbi's power shrieked at me.

  Too late. A massive surge of power erupted behind me, slamming me in the back and driving me to my knees. That same power wrapped around me, jerked me backward as Piers's hold on my hand tightened and Maksym lunged for me.

  Flare of blue, fast, lightning fast, too quick for my egos or I to respond. Sudden icy cold as I fell forward on my hands and knees in the snow.

  Turned with a snarl and a ball of fire at the ready to find Gwendolyn and Finlay glaring back at me.

  “You two,” I snarled, “had better back the hell off before I do something permanent to make you.”

  Finlay's power swelled around him, chest puffing out as blue magic flared. “Try it.”

  Gwendolyn pressed her hand to his arm, pulling him back, her pretty face filled with distress. “You must stop,” she said, to both of us. I stood, still burning with demon fire, Piers beside me, a pool of blackness surrounding us. He still had the shield up. Good boy.

  “To hell with that,” I said. “Your Council has allowed another magic race to be enslaved for centuries.” I cracked a fresh whip of demon fire into a bank of crusted white, a cloud of steam rising as the snow melted in a rush. “Centuries.” Shaking? Check. Ready to tear someone a new one? Check. Didn't care who that someone was?

  So. Close. To. Check.

  “Please,” Piers spoke up. “Listen to her. To us. The Steam Union has been asking you to intervene. But nothing has been done and now that same race is in great danger.”

  Gwendolyn hesitated while Finlay scowled. I was beginning to wonder if the young Enforcer had another expression.

  “You're coming with us,” he said. “To the border of our territory. And you're going home.”

  “I hate to repeat you,” I shot back. “But try it.”

  His whole body twitched, broad face bright red. “You’re lucky we don't arrest you.”

  “I wouldn't advise attempting it,” Piers said with humor in his voice. Where he could find the funny in this situation was beyond me. Charlotte was moving further and further away, her presence still flickering as though the shielding around her failed from time to time. I had to go after her before the Czar realized she was exposed and sealed her off where I couldn’t find her.

  But the second I reached for the veil, Finlay's power lashed out and shut me down. I snarled and drew back my demon power as she roared in rage, but just couldn't bring myself to hurt him.

  Damned conscience. I really had to do something about it.

  “Arrest us if you want,” I said while Piers glanced at me with raised eyebrows and whispered, “Us?” “But at least have the guts to help the werewolves who live in your territory.” I prodded them both with the image of the handler whipping the weres into transforming. “Your responsibility.” Another shot of Charlotte, spirit broken, the controlling collar around her neck. “Your duty.”

  Even Finlay backed down, head dropping, and though his scowl remained, it was less antagonistic and more hurt.

  “We will come with you.” Gwendolyn shook her head at her partner when he glared at her in shock. Had to say he wasn’t the only one. Had I really gotten through to her at last? “Sydlynn is correct, my friend. We've allowed ourselves to follow a false leader for too long and you know it.” He grumbled while my heart leaped, but he didn't argue. Gwendolyn turned to me. “But you will allow us to deal with it, and you will follow our orders.”

  Whatever helped her sleep at night. “Let's go.” I reached for the veil again.

&n
bsp; Allowed my demon to take over the long string of cursing I kept inside as Finlay blocked me.

  “Show me where to go,” he said. “I'll take us.”

  I rolled my eyes and sighed. Classic, but what other expression would fit such stubbornness?

  Whatever.

  Even as Finlay reached for my mind, I felt Charlotte's spike of fear and knew we were out of time. I threw the image at him, the one I managed to fish from her frantic mind, saw some kind of podium, as ornate as the palace, in a giant room. With a cross over the back wall.

  A cross? They were in a church?

  Oh. My. Swearword.

  “Hurry the hell up,” I said as Finlay's power wrapped around Piers and me. “The bastard is about to marry her.”

  ***

  Chapter Twenty Six

  I leaped from the flare of blue magic, out of Finlay's reach, storming down the massive central aisle of the chapel. Um, church. Yikes. Cathedral? The place was massive, just past the outer edge of the palace grounds, full of stained glass depicting religious scenes. But I didn't have time to admire the artwork.

  Not while Charlotte knelt at Yure Danko's feet with him smirking down on her.

  “Get away from her!” My roar echoed through the place, my demon backing my rage, Shaylee shaking the ground, the pressure of our collective anger shattering some of what was probably priceless glass.

  Boo freaking hoo.

  I was so tightly in tune with Charlotte I almost missed the sight of Raoul and Oleksander, groveling at Vasyl's side. The Czar's second in command watched my approach with cool calculation while I jabbed my finger at him.

  “Go tell Liander Belaisle I'll be seeing him soon.” Prod.

  The bald sorcerer flinched.

  And check mate. Gotcha.

  The Czar didn't seem worried as I stomped my way closer. In fact, he seemed eager.

  Too eager. I stopped in my tracks, let my sorcery reach out. Felt the werewolves hiding in the pews, their guns aimed and ready.

  Bastard. I'd had enough.

  Yure looked up over my shoulder and addressed Gwendolyn and Finlay. “We demand you remove this person,” he flicked his fingers in my direction, “from our property.”

  I gaped in absolute shock at his arrogance before slowly pivoting on one booted foot to stare at the pair. Gwendolyn bit her lower lip while Finlay wavered.

  No they would not.

  “Sydlynn.” Gwendolyn shrugged, hands open. “I'm sorry. We can't interfere unless a law is being broken.”

  I spun back and pointed at Charlotte, her father. Her grandfather. “Are you freaking kidding me?”

  Finlay had the sense to look uncomfortable when he spoke. “The werewolves are his property,” he said. “And he has every right to do with them as he chooses.”

  So much for them coming to help the enslaved and downtrodden.

  “When people become property,” I snarled, “witch law has failed.”

  They both blanched, Gwendolyn’s cheeks as pale as a vampire.

  “Why did you even bother?” My hiss of rage hurt my throat.

  Neither of them spoke. There was nothing to say. They were either with me or against me. On the side of right or getting out of my way.

  I heard the ceremony behind me start up again, felt Charlotte's fear turn to dejection and resignation.

  No. Not in a million freaking years. No.

  I was so done.

  With a blast of spirit magic, I shoved the pair of witches back toward the exit. They weren't prepared for the attack, clearly, not from the stunned look on their faces. They bodily impacted the doors, flinging them open. I pushed so hard they fell out of the building before I slammed the way shut behind them and sealed the wood together with a shot of earth magic.

  I spun on Piers who grinned at me like this was funny. A snap of power drove the smirk from his face and got his attention.

  Keep. Them. Out.

  I turned away from him before he could answer and faced the altar. Reached for Shaylee who sang her joy as she dove beneath the earth and exploded outward.

  I'd never been in the middle of an earthquake before. Sure, I'd felt her shake my world, rattle some things. Break a few people. But never an all-out, no holds barred, rip roaring ground splitting.

  My magic held me steady, bubble of power thrown out around me as the ceiling groaned and fell, chunks soaring down in slow motion to crush pews to powder. The hidden werewolves screamed in terror, running for their lives as the Czar snarled and created a shield of his own.

  Around himself.

  I've never hated anyone so much in my life. Not Ameline, not Liander Belaisle. That one act of absolute selfishness drove Yure Danko to the depths of my hit list, right below cockroaches and mosquitoes.

  I stretched myself thin to protect the werewolves, but I did it. Threw everything I had into it while Shaylee shook and shook.

  And shook.

  The crisp winter air finally stopped her, as my shivering broke our concentration. When I released the shields around the others and pulled back to my own personal space, I found myself standing in an open channel, the church a pile of rubble around me. I had no doubt the palace behind us suffered terrible damage as well, but that wasn't my problem.

  No, my problem stood, untouched and still grinning, at the other end of the empty aisle, waving at the dust cloud now able to settle around us.

  He turned and, with deliberation, gestured for the attending official, likely one of his own sorcerers, to resume the ceremony.

  “Charlotte!” I screamed her name as I sliced at the power holding her. “Say no! That's all you need to do and I'll finish taking this place apart.”

  She turned her head, met my eyes. “I don't have a choice,” she said. “You know what that feels like, Syd. Don't you?”

  Oh, hell. “You do have a choice,” I said, walking closer now the werewolves were more interested in running from me than they were shooting me. “If you've learned anything from me, you should know there's always a choice.”

  “They own my people.” She raised her shoulders and dropped them again. “They will own us forever.”

  “That's a lie.” I glared at the Czar even as he laughed at me.

  “No,” he said. “You are the liar. Our people made them.” He grabbed a fistful of Charlotte's hair and jerked her closer to him, her face pressed against his crotch. Horrible, horrible anger burst from my gut and up my chest as he went on. “And there's nothing you can do to change that.”

  “Let.” I slammed power into him, not caring if it was Sidhe or demon or vampire or sorcery. “Her.” Again and again, I pummeled him until he staggered back, hand dropping. “Go.” One last hit and he grunted, blood bursting from his nose.

  Rage flared in his own eyes, finally. He wiped at the blood with one hand, lips curved back, eyes bulging. “I will kill you for that!”

  “Don't you mean, 'we'?” Way to prove you're a just an ordinary douchenozzle, dude.

  Insanity joined his rage as he spluttered, spit flying from his mouth. He pulled himself together as Charlotte leaned back, eyes locked on mine. With his focus broken, I managed to cut open the bubble of sorcery around her and reach her inner mind at last.

  You chose me once, I sent, frantic now to get through to her as her dull eyes told me I was losing her despite my need to pull her closer. You chose to come back for me. Remember? Vague recognition lit her gaze. Spluttered like a flame. Died. And I failed you. She tried to argue then, but I cut her off. It’s my turn this time, Charlotte. I'm choosing you, don't you understand? I choose you right back.

  Hope, just a flare of it, but enough. The bond is broken, she sent. There's nothing we can do.

  I don't know what it feels like. I wrapped her in my power while the Czar, now aware of the contact, tried to shove me out. Show me. And I’ll do everything I can to rebuild what we lost.

  She hesitated. Only a moment, but long enough Yure's sorcery managed to find an edge and push. But he was too late
.

  I felt it, the soft kiss of promise, the way the werewolf bond gave a shard of soul from one to the other, creating a connection so profound, so close, they would die without their bonded. Love, family, protection, commitment. All of those and more wrapped up in werewolf power. Their greatest gift and their downfall all in one simple act of giving.

  Just as he shoved me out, I felt Charlotte touch me, hold onto me.

  And together, my power feeding her wolf, we remade the bond.

  It sparked along the edges of the bubble holding her captive, burned it away like a fire on a dry patch of grass. The Czar fell back with a cry of fear, almost staggering into Vasyl who pushed him away with disgust on his face. I noted it, but didn't focus on him, not while Charlotte's whole body tensed. Relaxed. Magic pulsed over her, fed by my various magicks. I felt her, clearly, much more clearly this time. Because the bond was no longer one-sided. My vampire, Sidhe, demon and sorcery all linked with her, giving to her as she had given to us.

  Charlotte stood in a rush, roaring her joy and her freedom into the bitter cold night sky to the howling counterpoint of her people.

  ***

  Chapter Twenty Seven

  As Yure gaped, I let him feel what I'd done, what Charlotte and I accomplished. Together. No master, no bonded. Equals.

  “Impossible,” he whispered, the sound carrying in the cold night air.

  “Not so much,” I grinned at him. “Now, let her go.” I glanced at Raoul and Oleksander, both watching me with burning eyes as I faked a thoughtful expression and tapped my chin with one finger. “Come to think of it, I want all the werewolves,” I said. “How does that work for you?”

  I only had a second to gloat as the Czar stared, unable to comprehend I'd beaten his delusions of godhood. This time I was ready for the burst of witch magic overhead, expected it long before now, to be honest. I was just grateful Applegate waited long enough for me to free Charlotte before showing up to blast me one.

  I wasn't disappointed. She burst into view, surrounded by Enforcers, power crackling around her in a halo of fire.