Spell Bound (Darkly Enchanted)

by Stephanie Julian

  “Get to the end of the alley and wait for me there,” Borelli hissed before he turned back into the room.

  He fired twice, the sound reverberating off the walls of the narrow alley, making rats scurry from their hiding places. Leo flinched but never hesitated as Shea forced him to run faster down the alley.

  Stopping where he’d told her, she put Leo between herself and the brick wall of the building and watched Borrelli.

  Walking backward to keep an eye on the door, the grigorio continued to shoot. Gunsmoke hung in the air, the stench thick and choking.

  When he reached them, Borelli slung Leo over his shoulder like a sack of flour and grabbed her arm. Then he ran like hell.

  She had a hard time keeping up, but she kept her mouth shut. Her heart flooded with adrenaline and fear made her stomach roll. Afraid to slow them down, she concentrated on not stumbling. As a kid, she’d learned to run on deer trails in the forest in her bare feet, her dad right behind her, ready to catch her if she stumbled.

  “Shit.” Her foot snagged on something and she nearly fell. Gabriel dragged her until she had her feet under her again.

  “Concentrate or we’re dead,” he hissed. “I can’t carry you both.”

  He was right, damn him.

  They didn’t run long, but it was a flat-out sprint up the alley. Shea’s lungs burned and her calves sang with pain.

  But when Borelli skidded to a halt, she wanted to scream at him to keep going.

  Until she saw the three men at the end of the alley.

  Borelli nearly dropped Leo in his haste to put the boy behind him and against the wall of the building. Then he grabbed Shea’s arm and pulled her behind him, as well.

  He kept his gun leveled at the men, two of whom had guns aimed at them.

  The other was a boy, tall for his age, but still only a child. Maybe fourteen or fifteen. He looked like an angel with strawberry-blond hair and a face full of curves instead of angles, though his body was almost painfully thin, at that awkward stage between teen and man.

  He smiled then, sweet and innocent. His expression sent a chill through her entire body. Goddess, the vibe she got from him slithered on her skin like slick black oil. He was anything but innocent.

  Borelli’s voice hissed between his teeth. “We need to get to the tan car behind them. When I tell you, grab the kid and follow me.”

  “Hello, grigorio.” His voice just beginning to deepen with age, the teen made the title sound like a curse.

  Gabriel never looked away from the two men with the guns. “Don’t even try it.” Borelli stared straight at them. “You’ll both be dead before you pull the trigger.”

  The teen laughed, a weirdly young sound. “You wouldn’t dare shoot that thing in my vicinity, would you, grigorio? A bullet is such a small thing to alter. One tiny flick of the air and it can land somewhere you didn’t expect.”

  As if to demonstrate, one of the men squeezed off a round, straight at Borelli’s head. Shea gasped, but the teen waved his hand in the air and the bullet veered away and lodged in the building.

  Goddess, the boy was grigori, like Gabriel. Cold terror spread through her body. This is what Dario wanted to turn Leo into. Oh, Goddess, please—

  “You know, you’re right about bullets.” Borelli’s gun didn’t so much as waver. “But then, I never was much for machinery.”

  Faster than her brain could process, Borelli’s hand, still holding the gun, shot out and connected with one of the men’s chins before tossing a left hook at the other.

  As the men fought, Shea kept her eyes on the teen. He stood to the side, his unwavering gaze stuck on Leo. Waiting.

  Shea hated waiting. Damn it, she wanted him to make a move so she could do something. Not only had her dad taught her how to drive, but he’d taught her how to take care of herself, too.

  Finally, the teen’s eyes narrowed and he began to inch forward, seeing a tiny gap in the fighting between Borelli and the other two men.

  Come on, bastard. Come on.

  He came at her first with magic. His arus brushed against her and she braced herself against it. It was so cold, it burned. A fierce hatred fueled it, one she couldn’t fully grasp. She only knew it hurt, and her head began to pound.

  Steady.

  When he was close enough, her fist swung out and clipped him on the jaw. Pain radiated up her arm at the force of the blow and the kid rocked back on his heels. But a second later, he smiled and slugged her back.

  She saw it coming, knew it would hurt like hell, but she took it like her father had taught her. And when it didn’t drop her, the boy’s smile finally faded.

  And hers spread.

  “Hey, kid. Didn’t your mom tell you it isn’t nice to hit girls?”

  She grabbed his shoulders, catching him off guard. Then she pulled him forward and kneed him in the groin with everything she had.

  He hadn’t been expecting it, stupid kid, and he fell to the ground with a strangled screech, clutching his balls.

  “Run, now,” Borelli yelled as he finally knocked one of the men to the ground and kicked the other away. “The car.”

  Shea obeyed mindlessly. She picked up Leo, her brother’s arms wrapping around her neck, the warmth of his body sinking into her skin. Hugging him tight, she ran.

  They were nearly to the car when the men caught up to them. One grabbed for Leo, the other hit Borelli with enough force to knock him into her.

  She stumbled against the car and hit her hip hard. Still, she twisted, struggling. She had to get Leo away. Had to—

  Someone began to scream, someone close.

  A shaft of pain shot through her head, nearly blinding her, but she struggled toward the car, holding onto Leo as tightly as she could.

  She didn’t realize until the man grabbing for Leo fell away that he’d been the one screaming. He dropped to the ground, writhing and waving his burning arms, the flames quickly spreading.

  “Get in the car!” Borelli shouted at them. “Get in the car!”

  Her mouth hanging open, she stood there, motionless.

  Blessed Goddess. Leo. Leo had done that.

  “Sissy.”

  Startled by the sound of his voice, she turned to look into her brother’s deep brown eyes. She saw his fear so clearly, it jumpstarted her body. She turned to wrestle open the front passenger door and slid in with Leo.

  Boosting him over the backseat, she said, “Stay down and don’t move.”

  She watched while he did that then turned to see Borelli slide into the driver’s seat.

  The car came to life with barely a sound, a fact that struck her as funny. With all the rest of the drama, there should be roaring engines.

  The thought didn’t last long as Borelli pulled a tight U-turn and peeled out in the opposite direction. Turning to look through the back window, she saw one of the men lift his arm, point the gun and shoot.

  “God damn it, get down.” Borelli palmed her head and shoved it onto the leather seat, even as he turned the next corner one-handed and at nearly fifty miles an hour. “I don’t want you to get fucking shot.”

  He took another turn without braking, his hand still on her head, and she heard a small “oof” from the backseat. Habit made her say, “Watch your language.”

  His fingers tightened in her hair. He wanted to respond. She could practically hear the words on the tip of his tongue.

  He didn’t. Instead, he released her, replacing both hands on the wheel.

  Sitting up, she let her gaze roam over their foul-mouthed savior. Except for a split lip, a decent-sized bruise on his cheekbone and a bloody tear in his pants at the knee, Borelli looked okay.

  She felt awful. Her jaw throbbed from the right hook the teen had landed and her head throbbed with the onset of a migraine. She wanted to curl into a ball and pass out.

  Closing her eyes slowly, she tried to suck in a few deep breaths but the pain wouldn’t let her.

  No, can’t afford this now. Leo…

 
; With a force of will she didn’t realize she possessed, she pushed the pain back into a tiny corner of her brain until it was manageable…or at least simmered below agonizing.

  When she felt she could, she shot a look at Borelli. He was focusing an enormous amount of concentration on his driving. It was a palpable force that didn’t encourage conversation.

  Fine by her. She needed a few minutes to regroup. With a grimace, she muttered the pain-blocking spell her mother had taught her years ago, knowing it would only delay the inevitable.

  They drove for at least fifteen minutes, winding around the city streets before Borelli broke his silence to speak to Leo.

  “You okay, kid?”

  Gingerly, she moved her head to see Leo nod. He looked steady, as if he hadn’t just made a grown man cry in agony.

  Then Borelli glanced at her and lowered his voice. “You okay?”

  And here she thought she’d been hiding it well.

  “I’m fine.”

  “You took a pretty good shot to the jaw.” He raised a hand. “Did you—”

  “No!” Hell, no. If he touched her, it’d be like throwing gasoline on the fire of her impending migraine. “No, it’s fine. I just need to eat.”

  Hopefully that would help hold back the gnawing pain in her head. She refused to take one of the pills in her pack. She couldn’t afford to be knocked out right now.

  “Check the glove compartment,” Borelli said. “There’s usually something in there.”

  Pushing her hair out of her eyes, she sat up cautiously, checking the back window first to see if anyone was following them, seeing Leo, huddled on the seat behind Borelli.

  He looked up at her at the same moment and she no longer saw fear in his eyes. Questions, yes. Even a little excitement.

  “You okay?” she asked.

  He nodded once then looked at Borelli. She knew exactly what he was thinking.

  Head still throbbing, even through the pain-blocking spell, she turned to Borelli. “Where are we going?”

  Late-night traffic was nearly non-existent, but the man didn’t spare her a glance as he pushed the car even faster. “We’re gonna find a hole to crawl into for a while.”

  Now, why didn’t she like the sound of that? “Where?”

  “Somewhere safe.”

  * * *

  “What do you mean, you lost them?”

  Peter’s chin shot up, a wild look of fear in his eyes. “They’ve got a powerful grigorio with them now. And the boy’s strong. He killed Phillips, made him burn with his hand.”

  Dario Paganelli raised his eyebrows, surprised. Not something he felt every day. “What do you mean? He lit a match and set him on fire?”

  Peter shook his head. “The kid touched him and he burst into flame. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  Now, that was interesting. The boy had la tocadura de bruja. And how convenient was that, considering?

  Rising from behind the desk in his St. Pete Beach home, Dario went to the window to look out at the warm Florida sunshine. “Do you at least know which way they went?”

  “Yes. Yes, we do. They headed north.”

  Dario nodded, though he wasn’t condoning Peter’s actions. His men had been chasing this boy for a year, ever since Kelsey, his latest grigori protégé, had felt his very strong energy from halfway across the continent.

  The deaths of Kyle and Celeste Tedaldi, a grigorio and one of the original thirteen streghe, had been an unexpected bonus, but they’d hidden their son too well. His men hadn’t been able to find the child at their home in Wisconsin and, with her dying breath, Celeste led him to believe the boy was on the west coast. His men had spent a few fruitless weeks chasing down that tidbit of information.

  Now, they’d lost him again.

  Dario hated setbacks. The boy was more valuable than even he’d thought and would make his mission, the mission with which his father had cursed him, that much easier.

  All of the boys he had stolen from the streghe over the centuries had served their purpose well. Kelsey, especially, had been most helpful. But Celeste’s son could prove to be the strongest of all.

  “Why would they return north when we believe the grigori stronghold is somewhere in the west?”

  “I don’t know,” Peter said. “Possibly to throw us off.”

  Dario nodded. “That could be. But it could also mean he’s taking them to the women. I’ve long thought they were holed up somewhere in the northeast, but they’ve concealed themselves well.”

  He paused, knowing Peter hung on his every word. The other man remembered what had happened to the man who’d filled the position before him. That man had allowed Kyle and Celeste to escape almost twenty-five years ago. He had to have the carpets and wallpaper replaced after he’d freed the man’s head from his body.

  “You know, I’ve always wanted to say this. Too many movies, I guess.” Dario turned and let his gaze linger on Peter. “Find them. Find him and bring him to me. I want the boy alive.”

  Peter swallowed audibly. “Yes, sir.”

  “Kill the girl and the grigorio. They’re unimportant.”

  * * *

  Gabriel didn’t speak as he drove over the Bingaman Street Bridge then east on Route 422 before turning left onto Shelbourne Road.

  The urban sprawl of Exeter Township soon gave way to the farmland of Oley Township. Frequent checks in the rearview revealed no tail, but he wanted to be sure before he took them to the safe house.

  He still couldn’t quite believe what he’d seen. The kid had the tocadura de bruja, the touch of the witch. It was rare, even among grigori.

  No wonder Dario wanted the kid so badly. The kid had power, more than he should at his age, but he didn’t look any worse for wear for using it.

  Shea, however, hadn’t opened her mouth since she’d asked where they were going. He slid a glance at her. Her skin shone ashen in the faint light of the dashboard. She looked ready to faint.

  “Hey, are you okay? You weren’t hit, were you?”

  Taking a deep, shuddering breath, the girl shook her head. “No, I’m…I’m fine. Just a headache. I’m fine.”

  Headache, his ass. She didn’t look fine. Far from it. Maybe some food would help. There hadn’t been anything in the glove compartment when she’d checked. He’d have to resupply his stash of granola bars.

  “Hey, kid.” He waited until the boy looked at him in the rearview. “Spread out for a while, take a nap. You’re tired.”

  He flicked a tiny sleep spell at the kid, just enough to make him yawn before nodding.

  “Please,” Shea spoke so softly he almost didn’t hear her, “don’t do that. Not to me, either. We’re not…” She paused. “Just don’t.”

  “He needs to sleep. We need to talk.”

  She sighed and those gorgeous lips pursed, but he was right and she knew it.

  A few minutes later, she stole a look over her shoulder. The kid had already gone lights out.

  “So where are we going?” she asked.

  He deliberately didn’t answer. It was guaranteed to piss her off and that’s exactly why he did it. She looked a little too shocky. He figured pissed off was better than terrified.

  Shea gave a disgusted hmph. “Where. Are. We. Going?”

  He glanced at her and watched the lines in her forehead deepen. Not at all detracting from the exotic beauty of her face.

  Which he really didn’t need to be thinking about right now.

  Shit.

  “I want to make sure we don’t have a tail before we double back and head to a safe house. When I think it’s safe, then I’ll take you to talk to Serena.”

  “Who’s Serena?”

  Could she really not know who Serena was? Especially if she knew Celeste, it seemed really fucking unlikely that she wouldn’t know who Serena was. Still… “Someone you’re going to want to talk to.”

  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her lift one hand to her head. She rubbed her temple, as if trying to ease
a headache.

  Join the club, babe.

  “What’s your real name?” he asked.

  “My real name is Shea. Shea Jones.”

  “Yeah, right.”

  “Listen, Mr. Borrelli—”

  “Back to mister, huh? What? Asshole’s not working for you anymore?”

  For a second, he thought she might actually laugh. He’d really like to hear that. Then she shook her head. “Watch your language, please.”