Arcane Heart (Talents Book 2)

by Angela Knight

  “Let’s get interesting.” The Arcanist’s voice, no longer distorted by the bullhorn -- he must have dropped it -- sounded amused, mocking. Jake didn’t recognize it.

  “Jake?” His mother sounded dazed, frightened.

  “Shut up, bitch!” The kidnapper clubbed her hard with his gun hand. Diane fell with a cry, landing on her side at his feet.

  Jake tensed in rage, his own and his cat’s. His fury was all the hotter for the terror boiling under it. He ached to leap onto the outcrop and take the bastard out, but kidnapper and victim were twenty feet up and about five feet ahead. An impossible jump even for a flesh and blood lion the size of Clarence. If he missed…

  The glowing figure planted a foot on the side of his mother’s face, pinning her there as he aimed his invisible weapon down at her. Diane being Diane, she beat at his calf. “Get off… me… you jerk!”

  The Arcanist laughed. And drew back a foot to kick her. “That’s no way to…”

  Oh, fuck this. Jake got a fix on his target’s location, opened his eyes, and sprang. His human body could leap a hell of a long way carried by magical leonine muscle, but he’d never tried a jump that far.

  Glowing paws hit the lip of the outcrop, scrambled, almost lost their grip -- and caught. Roaring, Jake powered himself onto the stone in a furious surge. Snapping his eyes closed, he saw the Arcanist standing astride Diane.

  Cursing, the kidnapper aimed the gun at him and emptied the clip as fast as he could pull the trigger. Bullets ricocheted off Jake’s manifestation in an explosion of magical sparks. He lunged at the bastard, striking out with his claws, glowing jaws wide to display his armory of teeth. “You keep your fucking hands off my mother!”

  With a defiant howl, the Arc leaped into a spectacular spinning kick aimed at his muzzle. Jake swung a forepaw, batting the Talent out of the air like a tennis ball. He went flying, hit a pine tree with a melon thump, and fell in a senseless heap.

  Jake came down twisting to avoid Diane, who lay coiled in a ball with both arms thrown over her head, and hit the stone with all four legs apart. He had a moment to feel triumphant relief…

  Until the magical trap sprang shut around him in an explosion of sparks and rotating sigils. He barely had time to think, Oh shit!

  His brain seemed to detonate in a white-hot blast. Jake had never felt such blazing, frenzied rage, such a bloody craving to make someone pay. The bastard had dared touch Diane Nolan -- the single mother who’d worried and struggled and fought to give her sons a better life, only to be forced to bury one of them.

  The magic-using shit had tried to kill Jake’s mother.

  He deserves to die.

  Head low, the air around him vibrating with his snarl, Jake stalked toward the Arcanist, eyes closed to let him focus on his prey. The man stirred feebly, a bare twitch of his chin.

  I’m going to bite the little prick’s head right off his shoulders…

  “Jake?” The voice was a hoarse croak, and he opened his eyes to look around, lips rippling with his snarl.

  The middle-aged woman lifted herself on her elbows, her face white everywhere it wasn’t bruised and scraped. “Don’t, Jake! He’s unconscious. It would be murder.”

  “You can’t tell me…” He broke off, and for a moment he recognized her through the bloody haze clouding his vision.

  Until another wave of fury tore through him, ripping the moment of sanity away.

  He roared.

  She jerked her gaze away and huddled submissively, her voice going high with anxiety. “You’re under a spell! Like Bobby. Just like Bobby. Please, please, don’t. I’ve lost one of you. I can’t lose…”

  That’s Mom. I can’t hurt Mom. He froze, shaking, trying to see her through the red-hot firestorm that hazed his vision with the need to rend and tear and kill. With the craving for blood.

  Mom’s blood. An icy bolt of horror jolted through his madness. Get the fuck away before I hurt her. Start killing, won’t be able to stop. Like Bobby.

  Somewhere on the ground below, a voice spoke, reverberating with magic. “Jake? What’s going on?”

  Kurt. Kurt’s down there. Kurt can stop me.

  Wheeling, he ran toward the end of the outcrop and threw himself over the edge.

  * * *

  Her head felt as if it was about to topple off her shoulders if she made one wrong move, but Diane Nolan managed to crawl to the edge of the granite outcrop.

  Twenty feet below, Jake’s manifestation crouched, tail lashing, as he faced off with Erica, Genevieve, and Kurt’s tiger.

  Her son roared, the sound louder and more inhuman than she’d ever heard it. Whatever spell that bastard Arc had cast on her boy, it was bad. No, damn it. Not again. I’m not losing you, too.

  Teeth gritted with effort, she reeled to her feet. And damn near blacked out again from the vicious pressure against her eyes. Suck it up, Diane.

  She needed to get down there, try to talk some sanity into her child. Teeth clenched with effort, she began to hobble down the length of the rock. She was not looking forward to trying to climb down that slope.

  Wait, where the hell was the kidnapper? The last thing she needed was for him to come after her. Diane closed her eyes and turned slowly, searching with her aural vision…

  There he was, huddled on the ground at the foot of a tree, dead or unconscious. He’s lucky Jake didn’t eat him.

  She started to turn away, only to realize he might regain consciousness and escape, especially given the Spook Suit. Damned if that jerk’s getting away after what he did to my son. Diane hobbled over and bent to wrap her fingers in the fabric of his full-face mask, almost face-planting in the process. Bracing one hand against the tree, she finally dragged it off. It peeled off slowly, revealing a bleeding scalp wound.

  As she straightened, his head appeared, looking decapitated. When she stepped away holding the mask, the spell broke and the entire man appeared, looking like an abandoned rag doll in black body armor. He was a big man -- dark haired and bearded, about forty, with the heavy muscularity of a boxer. His chest still rose and fell.

  At least Jake didn’t kill him. Not that he doesn’t have it coming. Still, it would be better if he were alive to be questioned.

  Shoving the mask into the back pocket of her jeans, Diane turned to stagger along the line of the hill, searching for a way down.

  With the sound of her son’s menacing roars echoing in her ears, she knew she’d better hurry.

  * * *

  Erica latched onto Genevieve’s arm and jerked her friend back away as the two glowing Ferals circled each other, muscles tense, heads low. She’d heard Jake roar a lot over the years, but he’d never sounded so thoroughly inhuman. Every time that savage, thundering sound raked her eardrums, it was all she could do not to flinch.

  “Jake, you’re under a spell,” Kurt said, his magic amplifying his voice. “Remember what happened to Bobby? Remember what he did to Dave? I don’t want to have to kill you to keep you from killing someone else, and you don’t want to end up living in the tree house with Dave for the rest of your life. You finally have Erica. Don’t screw that up.”

  Genevieve leaned in and yelled into Erica’s ear, fighting to be heard over the Ferals. “We’ve got to break that damned spell! We’re going to have to get closer.”

  “You can’t do it! It’s going to have to be me. He won’t kill me.”

  “Bobby killed Dave!”

  “Bobby wasn’t in love with Dave.” She grabbed her shoulder mic and triggered it. “Sheriff Gable?”

  “Any luck getting Nolan back under control?” He sounded as grim and desperate as she felt. “We’re still trying to evacuate, but the crowd’s on the verge of a wholesale panic.”

  “Warn them that if they run, they could trigger him to attack. Besides, Hussein Bolt couldn’t outrun a manifested Feral. Walk slowly and calmly. If he charges, get down on the ground, cover your head with your arms and roll into a ball. Do not move. Do not make eye contact. Kurt will ke
ep him from hurting you.” As long as Jake doesn’t kill him. “And I’m going to break the spell as soon as I can get close.”

  “How are you going to do that without getting mauled?”

  “Magic.”

  Jake lunged at Kurt again, and the glowing tiger leaped back, ducking a vicious slice of leonine claws. Roaring in frustration, the lion jolted after him, but the tiger danced away, probably hoping to exhaust Jake with a chase until his manifestation simply collapsed.

  It might even work.

  Erica licked lips gone dry with terror. She had to figure out how to break that spell, assuming she had the juice left after what she’d done with the Bards. Her head still throbbed like a kettledrum, but at least sheer terror had given her a second wind.

  Jake’s back was to her now, and she edged closer, reaching for her Talent to examine his aura.

  Oh fuck.

  White burned so hot in his skull she could see the frenzied heat through the golden blaze of his cat. Crimson sigils orbited him like moons around Jupiter. Deciphering them, she realized the spell was every bit as bad as she feared. It was designed to overwhelm the human half’s centers of judgment and self-control while maddening the cat half. Probably the only reason it hadn’t affected Diane too was that her Familiars were dogs.

  Studying the spell, she took another step closer…

  The lion’s great head snapped around, glowing eyes narrowing in rage. His muscles tensed. Erica froze.

  “Oh, fuck no!” Kurt charged, plowing into his friend. As Erica and Genevieve leapt away, the fight was on in earnest.

  * * *

  The cats’ roars hit his ears in a sonic assault that made Roger Johnson’s hands shake with the need to run. Instead, he forced himself to help a reeling Humanist stagger toward the parking lot they were using to evacuate the civilians.

  You’re a cop, damn it. Do your damn job and get these people out of here.

  But an image flashed through his mind for the tenth time in the past few minutes: the bear Feral dragging Steve across Faraday Square as the cop howled in agony and terror.

  Roger tightened his grip on the Humanist’s arm to keep himself from shaking. He could almost feel fangs sinking into his own flesh.

  Today was going to be another nightmare to add to his collection.

  All around him, desperately quiet men and women streamed into the woods around the park. A guy in an HH T-shirt stopped to take the elbow of an elderly woman in a polyester pants suit, steadying her when she tripped. If he realized she was a Talent, it didn’t seem to matter.

  A thin hand clamped down on Roger’s forearm, manicured nails digging into the flesh. “Did the cat kill him?”

  He jerked around to see Virginia Laurel glaring up into his face, eyes wide with fury and desperation. “Who?”

  “Adrian!” she hissed.

  “Adrian who? What the hell are you talking about?”

  She leaned in and rose on her toes until she could snarl in his ear. “The Arc terrorist. Did Nolan kill him?”

  Rogers jaw dropped as he suddenly had a whole new reason to be horrified. “What?”

  “Shut. Up.” Virginia tried to drag him away from the humanist he was guiding. He released the man and followed her until they were clear of the streaming crowd. Finally she turned on him and demanded, “Did the cat kill the terrorist?”

  “Who the fuck knows? I couldn’t see from where I was.”

  She wrapped a bony hand in his collar and jerked him down until she could snarl in his ear, “You’ve got to make sure he’s dead. Find him and kill him.”

  Roger tried to pull away, but she wouldn’t let go and he didn’t want to attract attention by ripping out of her hold. “You are out of your fucking mind.”

  “You’re involved in this up to your badge! If that little bastard takes me down, you’re going with me. Get up there on that hill while everybody’s distracted.” A deafening roar sounded, and another replied. “With all the noise the cats are making, nobody will hear anything they shouldn’t.”

  She released him and gestured impatiently. Glancing around, he saw Clary, Green, Hampton, and Martin standing, waiting for her orders. A more sinister collection of cops he’d never seen in his life. “Go with him,” she told them. “Make sure.”

  Clary’s jaw tightened, but he gave her a jerky nod.

  Satisfied, she hurried off to disappear into the trees with the rest of the evacuees.

  Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. He felt sick. It would be a miracle if they weren’t caught.

  Martin bared his teeth. “You heard the lady. We got a job to do.” And judging by the look on his face, if Roger didn’t do it, Martin would -- and kill Roger while he was at it. He didn’t have a choice. If Laurel said she’d take him down with her, she meant it.

  Besides, the psycho she’d evidently hired had it coming for doing all this shit.

  * * *

  Damn it, the Arcanist bastard had known his business. Erica scanned the spell, but she could see no misshapen or badly spaced sigils.

  Jake charged Kurt, who ducked aside, whipping out a paw to rake across his friend’s glowing muzzle. Jake reared as Kurt leaped, and the two manifestations slammed together in an explosion of sparks. Wrapping their paws around each other, they ripped, clawing, fighting to puncture one another’s magical shell and reach vulnerable flesh.

  Jake began to muscle Kurt backwards, and the tiger released him to bound away. Erica’s heart sank. Kurt was moving more slowly, his manifestation no longer as bright, while Jake’s lion shell burned as hot and moved as fast as ever.

  I’m running out of time. If he takes Kurt down, we’re all screwed. Erica edged closer to the fighting pair, knowing she risked drawing Jake’s lethal attention, yet desperate to see the spell more clearly. Every muscle tensed as she prepared to leap away if he turned toward her.

  Then, at last, she saw it. One sigil wasn’t quite as bright as the others. There you are, you little bastard. Not much of a weak point, true, but it was going to have to do. She started forward…

  Jake’s great maned head whipped toward her, gold eyes blazing, lips pulled back from fangs longer than her fingers. Erica froze, remembering the sight of Dave’s lifeless body lying on the cave floor.

  Leonine muscles tensed…

  “Jake…” she whispered. Pleading.

  His eyes widened as recognition flashed in their mad depths. His lips relaxed down off his teeth. “Eri…”

  “You’re not touching her!” Kurt landed on him in an explosion of sparks, all four legs encircling Jake’s torso as he dove for a grip on the back of the manifestation’s maned neck, jaws wide, fangs glowing.

  Roaring, Jake twisted in a move no human could have matched, throwing himself to the ground and rolling. Sparks exploded as the cats twisted together, roaring in a deafening chorus, claws digging for purchase. Jake’s rear paws raked the tiger’s belly, leaving dim gashes in the manifestation where they penetrated.

  Shit. Kurt’s manifestation’s definitely failing…

  Sensing the danger, Kurt released him and leaped away. Jake rolled to all four paws and dove for the tiger’s throat. They tumbled as Kurt fought to escape, writhing and biting. But Jake got him pinned on his back, immobilizing him with fangs sinking into his throat. Kurt’s shell darkened beneath the pressure of those glowing teeth…

  The vulnerable sigil rotated into view. Erica raced toward the battling cats.

  Insane, this was insane, but it was the only chance they had…

  “Erica!” Genevieve’s voice rang with helpless terror for her husband, for Erica, for Jake himself, but Erica knew she couldn’t stop. A thought flashed through her head: If I don’t have the juice to pull this off, he’s going to kill me. But she couldn’t stop, or Kurt would die -- and Jake would be destroyed as surely as Bobby had been.

  Thrusting out a hand, Erica sank her fingers into the dimmer sigil barely a foot from the lion’s huge glowing head. And hit it with all her strength.

 
; Nothing happened.

  Jake’s eyes rolled toward her though he didn’t let go of Kurt’s throat. One forepaw released its grip on the tiger and lifted. He’s going to rake my legs open.

  Too fucking bad. She’d survive that. She wouldn’t survive letting Kurt die. And neither would Jake. She shot her will toward the earth as Genevieve had taught her, fighting to draw power even without a spell circle. More, I’ve got to have more…

  A feminine hand landed on her shoulder, nails digging in hard. “Erica!” Gen cried. “Take mine!”

  Power blasted into her, a great blazing wave of it, nothing held in reserve, backed by all Genevieve’s desperate love for her husband. Pain blazed through her, but Erica ignored the vicious burn as she grabbed her friend’s magic like a drowning woman. Drinking it down, feeding her own into it, she blasted it into the sigil, backed by the raw force of her will, her furious determination not to lose either man.

  The sigil blasted apart, vanishing in a cascade of sparks. Their joined magic burned right through the kidnapper’s spell, splitting it wide, dissolving its sigils into glowing mist.

  Jake’s eyes widened. He froze, the grip of his jaws going slack. With a convulsive heave, Kurt drove his rear legs hard into the lion’s belly, throwing him ten feet through the air. Leaping up, he drove a shoulder against Erica’s hip, sending both women stumbling away.

  Kurt whirled, planting himself between them and the lion. “Are you insane?” he shouted, without looking around at them. “Get the fuck back!”

  Jake snarled, but the white blaze of psychotic rage burning in his head had dimmed.

  I’ve just got to snap him the rest of the way out of it. Ignoring the tiger’s warning rumble, Erica headed toward Jake, sidestepping Kurt’s lunge for her arm. Her gaze lowered, she sank to her knees until her head was lower than Jake’s -- a gesture of submission. Slowly, she extended a shaking hand.

  “Are you nuts?” Kurt snapped, starting toward her.