Cynthia hugged each of them in turn, and then she and Alistair stepped from the circle and vanished.
That was the first time Diana had witnessed the magic of the older pair, the first time they’d let their inner lights shine. Like their sons, they were more powerful than what she’d come to expect from the descendants of the Chosen.
“We still don’t know if we’ll be allowed to help you or not,” Cheri said.
“No, we don’t.” Meghan nodded. “But we’re sisters, and we have to try.”
Diana nodded. “Sisters and brothers. We are the three, and now the three plus three plus three.” They moved closer, joined hands. Circles held power, earth power and spirit power. This was a law of creation known since the beginning of human time. Since that very first fire, held within a circle of stones, warmed the first settled cave, the symbol of the circle has been powerful and true.
“We do know you can’t come with us, stand by our sides while we deal with Gregor,” Logan said. “As you were to face your final test alone, so must we. But with the unknown in the mix, that unexpected other…”
“We’ve already done more, been allowed more, than the Concilium originally intended.” Diana looked at her sisters then met Logan’s gaze. “It’s because they weren’t aware of all of the aspects to the Prophecy, either.”
“For whatever reason, the Sylph held back,” Cameron said. “Not just at the time you were sent, but in the beginning—at the time of the Great Separation and the first telling of the first prophecy.”
“Perhaps because there must always be a moment of choice,” Diana said. “For if there is no choice—right versus wrong, good versus evil—there can truly be no reward or no punishment.”
“We’re stronger than we were.” Max looked around the circle. Diana knew he spoke of not just himself and Tony but Ryan and Jeremy as well. “We’re not as strong as we one day will be, but we’re strong enough, for now.”
“We’ll send you all we can, pour all we can into you from here, if we’re allowed to do so,” Ryan said.
“Leave here knowing that, and knowing that we six who remain will keep our focus on you three—until we’re nine once more.” Cheri met Diana’s gaze.
Diana nodded and then met Meghan’s gaze and then the gazes of each of their men. Her sisters smiled at her. She could feel their love, and it was more than it had been because their men were now her brothers.
“Until then,” Diana said.
She and her men stepped from the circle and waited until the six who remained joined hands, forming once more a circle within a circle.
Then Diana closed off her power and felt Cameron do the same. She knew Logan focused because she felt his power rise up and could even see his amulet glowing slightly under his T-shirt.
And then, in a heartbeat, they’d left the park behind and stood before a very large, very grand house set back on a large piece of property. It seemed like a castle, but even without her magic, she had the sense that evil lived here. As she took in the stone steps leading up to the front door, that door opened.
“He’s waiting for me, but he doesn’t know I’m not alone,” Logan said. “I think he’s using just enough of his magic now so that he can hit me harder, faster, with the rest.”
“Well now.” Cameron smiled. He squeezed her hand, a gesture of reassurance. “Let the games begin.”
* * * *
He sensed the disturbance of the space outside and felt the signature of his enemy’s magic. He’d known the young warlock would know to come to here and that he’d be eager to fight anew.
Gregor Fortuna was ready for him.
He waited within his home office, the same room he’d called his sons into that first fateful meeting, when he’d known the time of the prophecy was at hand.
Of course, the room looked considerably different on this, his most glorious, day. He’d moved out the table and chairs, leaving but one chair, on a platform. His family crest—one he’d created for himself upon the birth of his first sons—had been blazoned upon a flag that hung above his seat—above his throne.
In ages past, I would have been worshipped as a king—or a god. He rued the passage of an era he’d never tasted. It had surely been a time more suited to him than this modern one could ever be.
He brought himself back to the moment and did his best to quell his excitement. Yes, this seat was his throne because he was the most powerful warlock on earth. And, after today, after he vanquished the younger, lesser warlock, he would be more powerful than ever.
He would remain unchallenged as well, for the power of the prophecy would be broken and the Great Separation would be renewed and would continue forever. These things he understood because of the tales that had been handed down in his family from father to eldest son for centuries.
The best reward of all was that his success today would make him immortal. That had been the real goal all along. Who needed sons to carry on when one would never die?
So Gregor sat, and he waited. The doors to this room were closed, but not locked. He wanted his prey to open those doors directly ahead of him and step into the majesty that was his power. He wanted to savor that moment when the young pup comprehended the depth and richness of Gregor Fortuna’s magic. Logan Firth. He’d learned the pup’s name and planned to use it as he consigned him to hell.
The doors opened ahead of his prey’s arrival, and Gregor smiled because Firth had used his magic for the feat. It took years of practice for a warlock to learn how to conserve his power, how to control it, and how to use it measure by measure. Too much too soon and time was needed to replenish it. That is something I will not miss—having to replenish with time and rest.
Gregor shook his head, thinking of Firth. First, the pup had used his magic to bring him here and, now, another show of strength. Like all young men, like his own sons had likely done, he couldn’t help but grandstand.
It will be his destruction.
Footsteps echoed, and Gregor stared in disbelief as Logan Firth entered the room with two other people—a man and a woman—and slowly walked toward him. They stopped midway between him and the door.
“A throne? Really? Isn’t that a little grandiose?” Firth treated him to an insulting look, and then he had the gall to smirk. And then the realization of who Firth had brought with him sank in, edging away his pique.
Gregor could hardly contain his glee. The fool had brought the entire triad to the slaughter. Then his words registered anew. Gregor sent him a sneer. “Do you really think so?”
“No. Actually, I think it’s a lot grandiose. I’ll tack on egotistical, as well.”
“You’re a fool, Logan Firth.”
“And you’re demented, Gregor Fortuna. The path you’re on is a misguided one. You did not inherit the powers of your sons. The magic doesn’t work that way. There can now be no thwarting of the prophecy, as we three are already mated. The only result of a confrontation between you and us will be your death. It does not have to be this way. You can choose to stop this. Destiny demands a choice from you, now. Your fate, Gregor Giuseppe Fortuna, is in your own hands.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about. I feel the power of my sons burning hot within me—just as I felt the surge of power when I stripped the magic from my own twin all those years ago!”
“No. The power within you is dark and corrupted. But it is finite. You think you are a warlock and powerful?” Logan pointed to Gregor’s family crest, hanging above him. “Trappings don’t make the man. You’re all you think but only in your own mind.”
Gregor’s temper stirred at Firth’s continued disrespect. “I’ll show you my power, pup. You and your brother will die, and then your woman will spread her legs for me!”
He lurched out of his chair, anger, fury…power…running hot and wild within him. He struck out, the magic a spear, burning, white hot, and aimed directly for the heart of Logan Firth.
Three hands stretched out—one from each of the triad—and
Gregor’s spear of fire sped toward the ceiling and then sizzled out.
The other male opened his hand, and a fireball appeared, swirling, spinning, like a fiery snowball that grew and grew. Then he withdrew his hand, and the ball spun toward Fortuna.
Gregor raised a shield, protecting himself at the last moment, but even so, he felt the punch of power and very nearly lost his footing.
“What is this!” He stared in disbelief as the two who had accompanied Firth stood before him, power burning bright within each of them, even the woman. “A trick. You make it seem as if these two are also beings of power. It is a lie! I must not believe it! I must kill you, now.”
He lashed out at Logan, both hands working to send spears of metal and glass toward him—his own personal shrapnel bomb. The spears bounced off an invisible shield, and the ground shook as a blast of magic erupted from the triad, a fast-moving freight train of power that lifted him off the ground and slammed him against the wall.
Gregor shook his head to clear the sound of the explosion from his ears. Using the wall to brace himself, he got to his feet. His throne had been turned to kindling and sawdust and lay in a shambles before him. His crest lay on the floor beside the remains of his chair, now nothing more than a scrap of material, torn from its mast, torn and blackened.
Gregor sensed a moment when his enemy had lowered their defenses and struck out, a crude punch of power that sent them all three flying. He followed it up with another and another and laughed as they tumbled and fell, as they all three began to show nicks and cuts, as the sight of blood and the scent of it filled him with a killing lust. Surely he had them now!
The woman held out both hands, and Fortuna screamed at the sensation of a million gnats biting him. Taking his focus from Logan for one heartbeat, he sent a splinter of heat toward her.
The other man stepped in front of the woman, and Gregor’s heat-arrow spun around and rebounded toward him.
He had to use more power to repel his own attack, and because it was to deter his own magic, the shield he formed was weaker than the others had been.
“You can’t win.” Logan stood before him, shielding the others. “We don’t want to kill you, but we will.”
“If you could have, you would have already. No, you think to trick me with your lies. I am invincible!” He stepped forward, unleashing all his magic, forming it into a giant boulder that would crush the pup and his triad for good.
“Enough!”
Gregor’s boulder vanished. He looked up, barely believing his own eyes. Standing in the doorway of the room was his one great mistake, his shame…his youngest son, Roman.
“You’re here, now? Well good, I’ll kill you, too.”
Roman stepped into the room, and Gregor stared, as an aura of magic seemed to surround his youngest child. It had to be another trick from that pup, Firth. He spared a glance and wondered at the way the triad had moved aside and was staring, wide-eyed at Roman.
“No, Father. You’re not going to kill anyone—not ever again. And here is not where this will continue. The shock waves cannot be contained here, and even now, the police are on their way.”
Then lightning flashed, thunder roared, and the room around them disappeared.
Chapter 13
Diana shook her head, this particular transportation spell stronger than any she’d ever felt. She was used to the magic, to being one place and then another, but this, this had been different.
The magic—Roman’s magic—deposited her as she’d been inside Gregor’s house, crouched down between her men. A brisk breeze blew around them, sharp and cold and with the scent of the ocean in every breath. The sound of waves crashing feathered in the background, a just-barely-there sound that formed a wall that seemed to surround them.
Roman had brought her and her men and his father to this place. The grass beneath them seemed out of place. Lush and long and verdant, it was the sort of grass one would expect to find in a sheltered, soil rich lea, not near a cliff looking down over the ocean.
To her right, as if it had been pulled from a nineteenth century painting, a well-maintained crofter’s cottage stood, small and sturdy and ageless. Diana didn’t know where they were, exactly, except they were very far away from Chicago.
“You would act against your own father?” Gregor sounded outraged as he faced his youngest son. He didn’t look around at where they were. He focused only on Roman. “You should be helping me! You should be standing by my side and seeing to it our enemies are vanquished!”
Logan and Cameron both reached down and helped Diana to her feet.
Are you all right, love?
Diana sighed, relief filling her to be in mind space with her men. Both were looking at her but it had been Logan who’d asked.
Yes, my love, I’m all right. A few nicks and cuts, but nothing more. What about the two of you?
The same.
Likewise. I feel something different, here. It’s as if a curtain has fallen between us and them. It’s a spell, obviously, but I don’t know what it’s for, or whose it is.
Like Cameron, she, too felt the curtain, as he called it. Her magic rose up, filling the role of counselor, opening her understanding.
It’s a protection spell, and it’s Roman’s magic. He’s making sure that Gregor can no longer harm us.
Roman looked over at them for just a moment, and though she had no idea of his exact thoughts, she knew he had heard their conversation. She read kindness in his eyes, but it was a kindness mixed with resignation and regret.
Diana almost didn’t notice the healing. With one look, his magic began to heal the several small cuts and bruises she’d suffered moments before. And with that healing was a sensation, instantly recognizable. At the instant Rick and Ed had released her that night on the beach, she’d had trouble drawing that first breath—until this same sensation had come over her, and she’d been able to finally inhale.
She met Roman’s gaze. He gave her a slight nod, as if he was totally aware of her thoughts and was admitting what she suspected was true.
Well, now, that’s handy and an unexpected boon.
I guess we know, now, whose magic we’ve been feeling—even if it feels just a bit different than what my sisters felt. Meghan and Cheri had shared their experiences with her, in mind space. She’d felt the power that had conjured a shark, and a hungry raptor. She put her focus back on the scene unfolding before them.
Roman had turned back to Gregor. “These people are not my enemies, Father. Neither are they yours. They wish you no harm. They’ve only returned measure for measure and have asked you, twice, to stop.”
“You fool, it will be the end of us all if this prophecy is allowed to come true!”
“No, Father. Everything Logan Firth has said to you is true. Nothing of what you know of the prophecy has any basis in fact. My brothers would have continued to live, regardless of the three who came to this realm to seek their destined mates. The Great Separation will come to an end, no matter your actions, and all those who’ve been gifted—including the Scorned and the Chosen—will once more be in a position of choosing to do good or evil. Those who choose good will be needed more than ever, as the challenges ahead facing this planet will need everyone’s magic to surmount them.”
Gregor seemed incapable of processing the words his son offered him. “I should have murdered you when you were a teenager, as your brothers urged me to do. You are no credit to me, turning against me this way. You’re just another enemy for me to dispose of.”
Because Diana was watching so closely, she saw the shadow of pain cross Roman’s face.
He sighed. “Even then, when I was a teen, my power eclipsed yours.”
Gregor’s gaze widened. “So I was right…the seventh son of a seventh son has great power!”
Roman shook his head. “That isn’t the reason I’m as powerful as I am. My mother came here to this realm from the other. She was of the Gifted.”
“That whore? She had nothing b
ut the smallest ember of the chosen in her breast. I know because all the whores who gave me whelps were only that—descendants of the chosen with just an ember of magic.”
“You’ve never been able to see any woman as having value beyond being a vessel for your seed.” Roman stopped and ran a hand through his hair. “And I’m fooling myself, believing you can be reasoned with at all, hoping against hope that you can change.”
“So what now? You’re going to kill me? Kill your own father?” Gregor sneered at Roman and treated him to an insulting visual appraisal. Diana marveled that he spoke as if he wasn’t a man who, by direct action or manipulation, had killed his own sons. “You’re weakened by your flaws—and by your do-good bleeding heart. You’re too weak willed, too soft to kill me. You’re just another failure, like every one of my sons.”
“You’re wrong, Father. I’m not soft at all. I will kill you if you leave me no choice.”
The door to the cottage opened, and an older man stepped out. Diana knew she wasn’t alone in the sense of disbelief she felt. Standing there was a man who was the mirror image of Gregor Fortuna, only without the sheen of madness in his eyes.
I think this also answers the question of what happened to Remis Fortuna. Logan’s voice, in her mind, matched the expression on his face.
He and Cameron both looked shocked.
I’m surprised Gregor didn’t kill him. But maybe, at the time they had their clash and Remis disappeared from sight, Gregor wasn’t insane enough.
Cameron had always been the one to reason things out.
Remis walked toward Gregor but stopped when he was beside Roman. “No. Roman, no. You will not kill your father this day. That is for me to do.”
“You! You powerless nothing! You cannot kill me.”
“Uncle Remis, no! You can’t. That will kill you, too!”
Gregor Fortuna looked furious and, maybe, for the first time, a little bit afraid. Then he seemed to shake that off. “You, I can handle. You have no power. I already took that. Against me, you are nothing.”
The Gifted 3: Passions Ascended (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Page 12