by Лори Девоти
“What the hell are those?” Kelly muttered, rolling again, this time into Kara. Not waiting for an answer, she pushed to her feet and sprinted to the other side of the ring, putting distance between her and Kara.
“Over here, Cruella,” Kelly screamed.
A sly smile curved Lusse’s lips. “Simpletons,” she said, and pulled both hands to her chest. Her eyes gleaming, she flung both arms out into a V shape, power bolts flying from each hand — one directed at each sister.
“Crap.” Still on the ground, Kara scrambled to escape. The bolt brushed against her, burning through the jumpsuit and sending an icy pain shooting through her side.
Kara lay in the dirt gasping for a breath, frozen with the shock of being hit. She pressed a hand to her side; it came back red with blood.
She stared at it stupidly. Funny, she didn’t feel as if she was bleeding.
“Kara,” Kelly screamed.
Kara looked, her hand still palm up in front of herself.
Lusse had taken a step forward; her eyes focused on Kara, she lifted both hands and prepared to throw two more bolts — both directed at Kara.
All Kara could do was stare at her, unable to believe any of this was really happening.
20
A scream rent the air. Suddenly, bolt after bolt of energy dug into the earth around Lusse. Kelly, a crazed look in her eyes, lunged forward, her hands a flash of movement around her head, pulling bolts from nowhere and tossing them as quickly as her arms could move.
“Leave my sister alone,” she shrieked.
Lusse turned, two huge bolts gripped in her hands. Eyes narrowed, she pulled her arms back over her head and prepared to toss them, but at Kelly, not Kara.
Something inside Kara snapped. She glanced up at the dais. Risk still stood there rigid, his face grim. “Help me,” she willed, her desperation pouring through her eyes.
His jaw tightening, he turned his face away.
Kara wanted to curl up in a ball, lie sobbing in the dirt until all this passed. But it wasn’t going to pass, not until either Lusse or she and Kelly were declared the victor.
A whistle pierced the air, Lusse’s energy bolts catapulting toward Kelly.
Inhaling, Kara pulled in more energy and concentrated on what she wanted — to save Kelly, to save herself.
Every muscle in his body clenched tight, Risk stared down into the ring. Kara was bleeding. His nostrils flared.
Her eyes huge with an unspoken appeal, Kara looked at him. Knowing he couldn’t interfere, if he did it would only jeopardize their escape, he turned his face away. He felt Kara’s despair, like a leaden sigh settling over him.
He couldn’t help her. He had to let Lusse defeat her and her sister. It was the only way, he reminded himself over and over. The words becoming almost a mantra in his mind.
Feeling stronger, he looked back at the ring. Kara spun away, her hands upraised, her face tilted upward, exposing her delicate neck. She inhaled deeply, her hands shaking slightly as if she were holding weights that were almost too much for her to bear.
Risk tightened his jaw. She had to fight this alone — she had to lose.
A slight breeze stirred Risk’s hair.
Jormun straightened on his bed of pillows. “Do you feel that? The twin. She’s doing that.” His eyes flashed with pride.
Risk leaned over the dais. The breeze grew stronger, began to move the dirt on the ring’s floor, too.
Lusse blinked, then lowered her brows. With a muttered curse she heaved two energy bolts toward Kara’s sister.
The wind picked up to a howl. A huge disk of power, air and dirt swirled together, forming a wall between Lusse and Kelly, and beside it stood Kara, her hands still outstretched, her body swaying with the wind.
“She is doing it,” gloated Jormun, his massive hands clapping together.
Lusse’s bolts slammed into the disk. Sparks sprayed as the bolts vibrated against Kara’s shield. A gut-wrenching grinding sound forced the skapt backward, their tongues darting from their mouths in alarm.
“Fabulous.” Jormun grinned. “Now what will your witch do?” he asked Risk.
Her face twisted with rage, Lusse began to twirl, creating her own tempest of power, but behind the shield, Kelly seemed to have tapped into what Kara was doing. She held her arms out to her sister, adding to Kara’s creation.
Their disk grew bigger and bigger, forcing Lusse backward, trapping her against the boundary of the ring.
They were winning. They were beating Lusse.
Risk paced the length of the dais, watching for some sign that Lusse could still win, but the witch was fading. Her shoulder bowing as Kara and Kelly forced her into a smaller and smaller space.
Jormun clapped his hands again and shot Risk a beaming grin. “Looks like they are winning, forandre.”
Not yet. The battle wasn’t won or lost or…Risk shook his head. He hadn’t lost his chance to save Kara yet. Fair or foul, Lusse had to win this fight.
But how? He couldn’t help Lusse, even if Jormun wouldn’t object, he couldn’t go that far; he had to get Kara to do it herself. He had to convince her — talk to her.
The solution rocked into him; he shook his head at the simplicity. Change — he had to change, in front of Kara. She’d asked him to do it before and he’d refused, convinced it would seal her horror of what he was. But now he had no choice. It was the only way to speak with her.
Closing his eyes, he let the magic engulf him. His feet widened, his hips curved — throwing him to all fours. Sounds and scents multiplied. He could hear Kara’s breathing, smell her resolve. With a shake, he settled into his hound form and opened his eyes.
Jormun stared at him, a slight curve to his lips. “You can’t help her, forandre. It’s her battle to win.”
Or lose. The serpent shape-shifter still had no idea of Risk’s true goal. His head lowered with determination, Risk padded to the edge of the dais, and opened his mind to Kara.
They were winning. And without hurting Lusse. Kara couldn’t believe it was actually happening. She stepped forward, concentrating on holding the disk of power she and Kelly balanced between them. Lusse edged farther backward, her own cyclone of energy slowing, losing force with each inch of ground she lost.
“Kara.” Risk’s voice startled her, almost making her lose focus.
“Kara,” Kelly yelled, apparently sensing Kara’s drift in attention.
Kara snapped herself back, refusing to look at the dais.
“Kara, look at me,” Risk called inside her head.
Kara licked her lips. They almost had Lusse. Just a few more minutes and she and Kelly would win.
“Kara, please.” Sadness, desperation — emotions Kara had never heard in Risk’s voice before, not even when he’d described being sold by his parents. “Kara,” he pleaded again.
Unable to resist, she turned her head. The silver dog from the bar parking lot stood on the dais. A sliver of fear shot through her; her muscles clenched; her power wavered causing the disk to stutter, the edges waving, disappearing for a second.
“Kara, concentrate! What are you doing?” Kelly dug her heels into the dirt, increasing her effort to hold the disk. Sweat broke out on her forehead, lines forming on her face. Muttering, she glanced toward her sister.
Kara looked back, unsure what to do, what to think, then glanced at the dais. Kelly’s gaze followed hers.
“Kara, no. Whatever he’s doing to you, ignore him. We almost have her — concentrate.”
Nodding her head, Kara turned her back on Risk.
“Kara, lose. You have to lose. It’s the only way. Jormun wants to keep the strongest witch. If you lose, he’ll let you and Kelly go free. He’ll keep Lusse instead.”
Her eyes huge, Kara cast her gaze toward Kelly. Her sister shot her a warning look, and nodded her head toward the disk. “Don’t give up now,” she seemed to say. She pushed another step forward, edging Lusse a bit closer to the ring boundary.
“Kara, trust
me.” Risk’s words tore at her.
Unsure, Kara paused.
“Just a little more,” Kelly choked out, her breasts heaving with the effort of holding both her half of the disk and the portion Kara had let slide.
“Kara…” Risk’s plea was no more than a whisper, making it somehow all the harder to ignore.
Her eyes filling with tears, Kara dropped her arms. The sudden loss of power sent Kelly flying backward onto her seat. Kara stood there, panting, praying she had made the right choice.
Lusse weaved forward, a hand pressed to her chest, her eyes filled with disbelief. Her gaze shot from Kelly to Kara to Risk.
“Good work, alpha.” She grinned, her hands shooting upward.
Kelly’s face fell, hurt and betrayal showing in how she turned her head, in her mumbled, “No, Kara.”
With a laugh, Lusse stumbled forward, waving her arms, gathering power with each step.
The room fell silent, like the stillness of a mountain seconds before an avalanche strikes.
Something was wrong, Kara could feel it. Too much power, Lusse was pulling too much. Perhaps she could survive the delivery of her blow, Kara had no way of knowing. But Kara was sure of one thing, there was no way she or her sister could survive the strike.
Lusse stopped, her body bending, power flooding out of her arms, her legs, her torso.
“No,” Risk roared. The ignorant witch had broken Jormun’s one rule. She was delivering a death blow, and he had allowed it by letting her in the ring without Jormun’s bracelet.
Without another thought, Risk leaped, flying toward the ring and Kara.
Behind him an even greater roar sounded. The skapt fell to their knees, their hissing combining with the hum of power flowing from Lusse, and the booming shriek behind him. Risk ignored it all, his only thought Kara and saving her from Lusse.
Kara staggered sideways toward her sister. Growling, Risk lunged in front of her. His teeth bared, he threw himself at Lusse just as she unleashed the first wave of power.
Dirt, power and the stench of obsession swirled around him. His gaze focused on Lusse, on the insanity flaring in her eyes, he struggled forward.
Another shriek split the air. The skapt threw themselves prone on the ground. Lusse’s head shot upward, her eyes rounded in horror, she went shooting backward, over the ring and onto the bodies of the fallen skapt. She lay there quivering, her hair singed, her eyes rolled back in her head.
All sound stopped.
Dead. Was she dead? Afraid to look, Risk stood frozen, then he felt it. Something large, filled with power and slithering toward him.
On the ground a few feet away, Kara stirred. Her sister gasped, and Risk turned, his hackles raised and his feet braced, ready to fight.
A gigantic green serpent slid toward him, its tongue flickering out over Kara, her sister, and then Risk. “Calm, little forandre.” Jormun’s voice echoed inside Risk’s head. “Your witch, she cheated.” Jormun, the snake, rose; his head weaving above them, his tongue danced over Lusse. “She didn’t wear the bracelet.” He shook his head as if in disapproval. “Too bad. It would have saved her some hurt.”
Risk stepped backward until he felt Kara’s body next to his. Her sister scrambled forward, grabbing Kara’s hand and attempting to pull her away from the snake and Risk.
“She won though, didn’t she?” he asked.
The snake cocked his head. “And…” He flicked out his tongue again. “She lives.” Jormun’s rolling chuckle sounded in Risk’s mind. “Well met, forandre. Take your witches and leave.”
Witches? Risk blinked, unsure he had heard the larger shape-shifter correctly.
“Don’t lose your advantage. Leave while the bargain still holds.” With that, the serpent lowered his belly to the ground and slithered out of the hall.
The snake-men hurried them out of the hall toward the door where Kara had first entered what seemed a lifetime ago with Narr. Risk trotted along in the rear, his eyes alert, but avoiding Kara’s gaze. When they reached the first doorway, the snake-men parted, allowing Risk to walk between them until he stood beside the sisters.
Kelly, her eyes narrowed, said, “What’s happening? Why’s this…beast with us?”
Her mind swirling, Kara ignored her. They were letting them leave; she didn’t know what had happened, but Risk had been right. He hadn’t betrayed her. Jormun’s letting us leave. Risk, too — just not…Lusse. The image of Lusse lying immobile on the ground slammed into her.
“Is she dead?” she asked of no one in particular.
The closest snake-man blinked.
“Lusse, is she dead?” Kara repeated.
“Who cares?” Kelly muttered.
The snake-men glanced from Kara to Risk, as if he had said something. One hissed, then said, “She lives, just knocked out. She proved she was the stronger. Only the strongest can serve Jormun.” His eyes gleamed.
“The strongest?” Kelly raised a brow.
Risk growled. To Kara’s surprise, her sister snapped her lips shut.
“So, what happened to her?” Kara asked.
“Too much power. She couldn’t filter it all,” the snake-man replied. He reached into a small crevice near the doorway and pulled out the stick that Kara now knew opened the door.
“But…why didn’t anything happen to us?” Kara motioned to herself, Kelly and Risk.
“Forandre?” The snake-man hissed, a disbelieving sound. “Nothing hurts forandre.”
“And us?”
“Bracelets. They protect. The other witch was lucky. She wasn’t wearing one. In the past, witches weren’t strong enough. The power of Jormun’s change overwhelmed them…killed them.”
“But Lusse…?”
“Survived, strongest. She will serve Jormun well.” The entire group nodded, their tongues darting in and out of their mouths.
So the other witch, Kelly’s friend, Jormun had killed her, but perhaps not intentionally. Kara glanced at her sister, who was staring at the band around her ankle. Did it matter? Dead was dead. A shiver passed over Kara.
The snake-man swung his stick, striking the door. Even before the vibrations had slowed completely, the group had turned and began swaying away.
Something warm knocked against Kara, nudging her through the doorway. She dropped her hand, hitting fur — Risk still in his other form. Walking beside him, down the tube that lead to the portal, she let her fingers rest lightly on his back.
Strangely, she felt no fear — or even unease. Walking beside Risk felt normal, safe.
When they reached the portal, it was already open. One hand on Risk, the other clasped around Kelly’s hand, Kara stepped out of Jormun’s world and into the Guardian’s Keep.
Risk herded Kara and her sister through the doorway and into the Guardian’s Keep, then quickly circled around so he was between them and whoever or whatever might be waiting for them in the bar.
“Well, I didn’t expect to see you again.” The garm, in human form, leaned against the bar, his arms crossed over his chest. His gaze drifted from Risk to Kara’s sister, where it settled and stayed.
The twin grabbed Kara’s arm and shoved her way past Risk. “Let’s go.”
Kara balked. Using her body weight against her sister, she refused to move.
The garm raised an amused brow and turned his gaze back to Risk. “Were they worth it?”
Risk tilted his head.
With a low laugh, the garm pulled a pair of jeans from behind the bar and tossed them in a heap in front of Risk. “Heard you were coming. Thought you might want to change.” He grinned.
Not in the mood for forandre humor, Risk grabbed the denim in his teeth and dragged it backward until he was a few feet away from Kara and her sister.
With a small amount of privacy, he turned his back to the others and began to shift.
“Damnation,” he heard Kelly mutter. Ignoring her, he finished his change and began tugging on the jeans.
When he spun back around, both Ka
ra and Kelly were staring at him. The garm bent down to rearrange some bottles with angry clanks.
Risk stood, dressed only in the garm’s worn jeans, his gaze on Kara, feeling vulnerable and exposed — something he’d never experienced before meeting Kara, before loving Kara.
Unable to form words, he held out one hand.
“No way.” Kelly placed a restraining hand on Kara’s forearm. “We still don’t know what happened back there. Maybe he’s been sent through to watch us, use us somehow.”
Kara shook off her sister’s grip. “He saved us.”
Kelly sputtered. “Not. How do you figure that? We had Lusse dead to rights. We were winning. Then he did…something. Broke your concentration. He caused us to lose the battle.”
Her eyes focused on Risk, Kara replied, “But that’s it. Don’t you see? If we’d won, Jormun never would have let us go. Risk convinced me to lose. Jormun thought Lusse was stronger — that’s how we escaped.”
Kelly frowned. “He convinced you to lose? How? Just with that one note?”
“No.” Kara smiled. “The note should have been enough, but it wasn’t.” She took a step toward Risk. “I’m sorry. I should have trusted you.”
The band around Risk’s heart loosened.
“Kara,” Kelly objected.
Kara held her hand out to her sister, shushing her, then took the last few steps into Risk’s arms. He pulled her to his chest. His nose buried in her hair, he inhaled her scent, her love, her.
“You can accept…” He let the words trail off.
She looked up, her eyes shining with tears. “Everything. I love everything about you.”
When he started to speak again, she pressed her fingers to his lips. “What about you? Can you forgive me for throwing you out? For being so…” she glanced at her sister “…stubborn?”
He laughed, all the stress, worry and fear he’d been carrying evaporating like mist. “Anything, everything. If you can accept me, and all I’ve been, there’s nothing I wouldn’t forgive.”