“I’m not arguing,” he said.
“Good. Since there’s only one way out of this, and we all know it, why don’t we get it over with?”
“It won’t work out the way you think,” Xia said.
The warlord gave him a look that said more than words could have about his opinion of fiends who stood up for witches.
“Nothing ever does, Xia.” She turned to Kynan and met his gaze head-on. “Warlord.” She touched her fingers to her forehead. Guess she had been paying attention. “Whatever you have to do to make this go away, do it.”
Kynan smiled. “Sit down, fiend,” Kynan said to Xia.
He did. But he stayed prepared. Xia was getting a hell of a wave from Kynan. The flow of magic through and around him increased, and it floated him as high as a kite. Kynan was shaping his magic, focusing on Alexandrine and bringing Xia along. He could feel her, close and real, her magic flaring hot. Alexandrine’s fear rolled through him, and Xia edged off the bed toward her. Her eyes were losing their pinpoint status now. She was practically back to vanilla. He stretched out a hand, just close enough for him to brush her shoulder.
“I won’t let Kynan hurt you,” he said. “Not physically. This is going to be all about your magic. If you’re really going to do this, I’ll make sure you come out okay. I promise.”
She licked her lips, and Xia and Kynan both followed the tip of her tongue. The connection between him and Kynan drew hard at him. The warlord was turned on by Xia’s recollection of sex with Alexandrine. He wanted to do her like that, too. He wanted her long legs wrapped around him, hearing her moan while he was changed, going harder and harder.
Alexandrine touched the back of her head. “I’m cold here,” she said. “Like ice.”
“Kynan’s pulling, and you’re reacting to that.” So was he. Reacting and pulling. The warlord had some twisted magic. His power flashed hot, then settled down.
She rubbed her arms. “Was that him?” she asked.
“Yeah, baby. That was him.”
The mattress dipped as Kynan knelt on the end of the bed. He’d already pulled enough magic to incinerate the room. The air got hot, and Alexandrine, whose body wasn’t adapted to this, broke out in a sweat. She knelt on the bed, too, rubbing her forearms.
“What’s going to happen?” she asked. “Will it hurt? I want to be prepared, that’s all.”
Kynan leaned forward, looking down into her face. Her eyes were wide open and fixed on his. “I’m going to pull,” he said. He put a hand behind her neck, cupping her nape. “You might feel it. If you do and you feel like fighting it, don’t.”
“How?” she whispered. “How do I do that?”
Kynan’s eyes turned dead black. “Just don’t, or I won’t be responsible for the consequences.”
“She can’t promise that, Kynan.” Xia slipped an arm around her waist. “I’ll keep her under control, all right?”
“See that you do, fiend, or I’ll fry you both.”
“I can handle it, Warlord.” Xia reached for the magic building in him. Alexandrine was familiar to him now, and getting himself settled in her head wasn’t hard at all. He felt her mind join his and then theirs. He was far from stable, and he had to work hard to stop the chaos in him from boiling over. Despite Kynan being so near, Xia pulled Alexandrine into his arms. Her magic beckoned to him. Sweet and hot. Power rippled down his skin and along his spine.
The warlord returned his attention to Alexandrine with considerable intensity. “All you need to do right now, witch, is fall in. Like you did before when it was Xia. I’ll do the rest.”
She nodded, but she was stiff as a board and holding on to the bedspread so tight her knuckles were white.
Kynan released some of his magic into her. Alexandrine jerked back and cried out. He moved in, and Xia slid a hand under Alexandrine’s chin, turning her head to the side to make things easier. Kynan pressed the side of a fingernail to her throat until blood welled from the cut. The warlord got a taste of her blood, and with that, Xia felt Kynan’s magic go in. They both felt her resist. And struggle not to.
Xia had her under control. Only, as it turned out, he didn’t have himself under control. Things got fucked up fast.
Chapter 22
Kynan Aijan smelled like hot sand. His body radiated enough heat to make Alexandrine feel like she was in the Mojave Desert. In summer. At high noon. His mouth was on her throat, and the freaky thing was how she was losing her sense of where she was in space. She was afraid of what would happen to her when this was over but couldn’t see how keeping things the way they were was going to be worth the shit her life would become. No way would Xia be okay with a permanent connection to a witch.
Xia was a familiar, calming presence in her head, but Kynan was there, too, and the warlord didn’t calm her down. Her thoughts folded in with Xia’s and Kynan’s with so little separation she wasn’t sure who was experiencing what. Maddy would find this experience fascinating, and Alexandrine tried to commit the details to memory so she could tell Maddy what it had been like. If she lived through this.
The taste of blood flowed in her mouth and down the back of her throat, hot, sweet blood spiced with magic. Those sensations had to be coming from Kynan, and yet an alien part of her wanted more. She wanted more of the rich, deep taste of blood. Alexandrine reached out and touched. Who? She opened her eyes and tried to move her head. Someone was holding her, but he let her go, and she connected with black eyes: beautiful, intense, black eyes in a strong face. Kynan Aijan. How lovely he was. The image of Maddy she’d held in her head was still there, and Kynan was enthralled by it. She actually felt the warlord searching for more. With a growing horror, she realized her memories of Maddy were there for him to study and commit to memory. Just like his memories were open to her.
She moved toward him, touching his cheek, running a hand along his torso. His magic pulsed in her. He wasn’t Xia. She wanted Xia, and this was Kynan Aijan. War-lord. Lover of Magellan, the man who’d enslaved him. In love with Carson Philips, the woman he’d been ordered to murder. A killer hundreds of times over. Because of people like her.
“We’re not like him,” she said. And she was thinking of Maddy most of all. “She’s not like them.”
“Xia,” Kynan Aijan said. “You need to get her under.”
“She is under,” Xia replied. “You’re the problem right now. Quit jacking off and get this done, Warlord.”
The exchange brought Alexandrine’s thoughts and perceptions into better order, discreet, individual. Discernible. Kynan Aijan and Xia. And her. Alexandrine Marit.
“You’re a pain in the ass, Xia,” Kynan said.
“That’s what she tells me.”
Her head flashed cold, and her blood froze in her veins as Kynan reached for her magic with the intent to take. Every instinct she possessed screamed in protest.
“Baby,” Xia whispered in her ear. His arms encircled her, held her tight against him, but they didn’t stop Kynan from coming after her. “I’m sorry,” he murmured. “So sorry.”
She had to let this happen. She wanted to fight him, but if she did, God help her, she faced a life in which Xia would come to hate her. She’d probably learn to hate him, too. What kind of future was that? If she kept her magic, knowing what the copa would do for her, eventually she’d take it. And then take some more. Until she ended up like her father. Cold. Merciless. A slave to her magic. With blood on her soul. Or dead. Or both.
Kynan’s will worked its way inside her. Fear sent her pulse skittering at his continued incursion. Alexandrine reached inside herself, quivering with fear, and let down her defenses; she wanted a different life than the one before her if she didn’t. She wanted an independent life. And maybe most of all, she wanted a chance with Xia.
Baby, it’s okay. I won’t let him hurt you.
The process started with unexpected speed. She tried to shout that she wasn’t ready yet, but the air around her compressed until it felt solid on her skin. God, le
t it be over quickly. The smell of heat and sand radiated around her. Sound roared in her head. Colors rainbowed behind her closed eyes. A tearing pain set in, continuing, inexorable.
Kynan was cutting her off from her magic. Meager though her abilities were, her magic was a part of her. She hadn’t expected to feel like she was being ripped apart.
“No,” she said. Out loud? In her head? She struggled to sit upright and then did, away from the comfort of Xia’s embrace, sliding off the bed. The cacophony of sound and pain followed her. The major muscles of her legs slivered with pain, a rain of needles beneath her skin. She lurched, moving backward so that she continued to face the bed yet managed to keep her balance.
Kynan’s magic came on, taking over her head again. Her vision was doing funny things. Nothing worked the way she expected. Colors bled together again; lines of perspective disappeared or took impossible trajectories. She squeezed her eyes closed and shook herself. When she opened her eyes, she could see again. But everything was different somehow, and she didn’t understand why or what or if the world would ever be normal again.
On the bed, Kynan sat on his haunches, hands on his thighs. His eyes were pools of black. Ink black. Midnight black. Forever black. Xia stood at the side of the bed, not far from her, and her heart turned over in her chest at the sight of him. Loss overwhelmed her. She wanted, needed, respected, and maybe even loved Xia, crazy as that seemed, and it tore her apart to think that when Kynan was done, her connection with Xia would be gone. Even though it had to be this way.
Would he want anything to do with her when her magic was gone? Or would he think, There’s a witch well served? Why would he care anything about her, once there wasn’t any reason to protect her? Her legs gave out as Kynan’s power surged into her again, enveloping, suffocating her. Ripping away from her.
Gasping, she bent her head down, touching her forehead to the floor, forcing herself to do nothing while this horrible rending of herself went on and on. She felt the moment when her magic became inaccessible. Not gone as she’d expected. Just inaccessible to her. It was as if she were trying to reach through to the other side of a mirror. She could try for the rest of her life, and she’d never be able to step through.
It was over then. Grief filled her. She was separated from her magic. Saved by a loss from which she’d never recover.
Alexandrine lifted her head, and the first thing she saw was Xia. He was close to her, as if he’d meant to go to her and then thought the better of it. If she wasn’t in such pain, she could touch him. He was the color of lapis, nothing like his human form, and was beautiful in a way that both terrified and aroused her and reminded her she may have lost more than her magic. His eyes burned blue. Searing hot.
It was over. Everything was over.
Inside her, the tearing pain started again, burning in her, through her. Kynan was an enormous presence in her head, malign and evil. Her back shivered, and she didn’t need any magic for the leap of intuition that shattered her. Kynan wanted more than her magic. He wanted her bound to him the way Magellan had bound him. Against her will. Enslaved. The knowledge took root and blossomed outward. If he succeeded, and she didn’t die tonight, he’d make it happen eventually. His presence in her head grew, and Alexandrine fought the warlord with everything she had in her.
He was taking control. Making her whatever the fiend equivalent of a mageheld was. Kynan’s magic suffocated her. A part of her that wasn’t her magic but was still some essential part of her ripped away.
Help me.
She fought hard. Holding on with everything left to her. With her eyesight going out again, she was unable to focus on anything that wasn’t smack in front of her. She saw Xia stand up straight. The air around him rippled, and then he vanished.
On the bed, Kynan’s head snapped back. For half a second, Alexandrine was perfectly clearheaded. She and Xia had made a terrible mistake trusting Kynan. He was after more than her magic and her memories of Maddy. He wanted her to pay for what Magellan had done to him. And now that he knew about Maddy, he’d want the same for her best friend, too.
Run.
If she didn’t, with Kynan Aijan owning her and her magic, she’d be dead within twenty-four hours. She didn’t think for a moment he’d let her live long. No way could she survive the kind of things he wanted to do to her.
The warlord’s magic came back at her in a whiplash effect. She screamed, but no sound came from her paralyzed throat.
Kynan Aijan hadn’t moved from his kneeling position, though he’d relaxed. He was Kynan. She knew that. Brown hair past his ears, a face a woman would die to have looking at her in passion. And yet, though she saw the warlord, what she felt from him was pure Xia. An invisible wire ran between her and Kynan, but it connected to Xia, who, as far as she could tell, wasn’t even in the room anymore.
Her throat felt raw, and when she managed to speak, her words were hoarse. “Xia?”
Kynan smiled, and that’s when she noticed his eyes weren’t black anymore. They weren’t breathtaking golden brown, either. Kynan’s irises were white, streaked with pale blue. “Fuck, yes,” he said.
A shiver went down her back and lodged in her belly, because the voice was Xia’s; everything except the way he looked was Xia. She pushed herself to her feet on hollow legs. “What happened?” she whispered.
The warlord slid off the bed and stood at his full height. Not as tall as Xia but longer legged. “Don’t be going all boo-hoo on me, okay? We need to figure out what to do now.”
“Xia?”
He strode to her and got up close, sliding his hands from her shoulders and up her throat to hold the sides of her face. “Don’t freak on me, Alexandrine. Keep your head on your shoulders, and there’s a chance we’ll get out of this.”
“How?” She put her hands on his chest and immediately snatched them away when his eyes changed color. Flickering from white to blue to brown to black and back to white.
“Kynan wigged out on us,” he said. “He got your magic and then he just… lost it. If I hadn’t taken possession, we’d both be dead.”
Alexandrine backed away; she had no doubt in her mind that this was Kynan Aijan standing in front of her, touching her. And yet she felt a connection to Xia, and it came from the warlord who was looking at her with Xia’s eyes.
“Babe, babe.” Xia’s voice again. “You’re freaking. That’s not productive.”
“Is this permanent? Are you trapped in there? Xia?” She stepped close. “If you don’t tell me what’s going on, I really am going to freak.”
His body went hot, and then Kynan growled, a sound that froze Alexandrine where she was. “I can’t hold him much longer.” His eyes flashed through shades of blue and, finally, back to white. “You can’t be in here when I let him go, Alexandrine. You need to get the hell out of here.”
“Bullshit,” she said. “He’ll kill you.”
“Maybe.”
Inspiration, or just pure desperation, hit. “Where’s your knife?” she asked.
“Get out, Alexandrine.”
She grabbed his scabbarded knife, shoved it in her front pocket, and dragged him down the stairs after her. The brazier was still hot. She pulled out Xia’s knife, letting the scabbard fall to the floor, and yanked on Xia’s hand. “Down. Now. On the floor.”
Xia, in Kynan’s body, stretched out on the floor. Alexandrine straddled his torso. Her hands shook as she pulled the knife from its scabbard. The blade glowed blue in the dimness. She let the scabbard fall to the floor and put the point of the blade under Kynan’s chin. She touched his cheek. “Thanks, Xia. Now, let him out. Or you get out, however the hell that works.”
“Watch out with that thing—it’s sharp.”
“Yeah, I know.” She managed a smile. “Do what I said, Xia.” She tightened her thighs around Kynan’s rib cage and tensed. The air heated again, but she didn’t feel any corresponding chill in her head. No prickling along her arms. She didn’t dare look, so she sensed, rather tha
n saw, Xia leave the warlord. She pushed the knife closer to his chin. His eyes flickered. Brown eyes, close to black. “You pull, Kynan Aijan,” she said, “or try anything at all, and you’re toast. We clear?”
Chapter 23
Xia stayed in his nonhuman form once he let go of Kynan. Warlords had killed for lesser infractions than what he’d just done, which was break one of the kin’s primary rules—possession without consent was forbidden. He expected Kynan would want to pound him down to the size of a brick. He was not, however, so contrite about what he’d done that he wasn’t prepared for Kynan’s retaliation against Alexandrine. Xia made sure he held enough magic to put some serious hurt on the warlord before he went down.
Only, Alexandrine managed to have thrown a major kink in things. She pressed a hand to the warlord’s shoulder and kept the point of Xia’s knife right above the knob of Kynan’s throat.
“Don’t even think about it,” she said to Kynan. With her voice all hoarse, she sounded damned scary. “You pull, you even blink, and you’re dead.”
“Something wrong?” Kynan asked. For a pissed-off warlord, he looked normal enough, but Xia felt the power gathering in him. Alexandrine was oblivious. But he wasn’t, and on more than one level. Man, that was fucked up.
“What the H did you think you were doing?” she snarled at the warlord. “You tried to kill me.”
“You’re a witch.” He moved a hand.
“Nuh, uh, uh.” Alexandrine put all her weight into pressing Kynan’s shoulder flat to the floor. “This thing is sharp. I don’t think you want to make any sudden moves when I’m not feeling very steady.”
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