Decision made, she touched her jasper earring and called up the wind. It pushed its way across the room, starting as a small breeze until it was a gale force when it struck Kim. Much stronger than she remembered, she winced when she heard bones break as his body again slammed into the wall. Maybe this time he’d stay down.
Logan took that moment to attack and Julia chided herself at her lack of faith in Markus. She should've known better. He'd been toying with the other man. He wanted him closer. In one swift motion, he pulled the same trick on him that she had on the werewolf in the alleyway - Markus sliced open Logan’s stomach.
As the tear in his gut widened, she realized with equal amounts of horror and amusement she’d received one knife back from Markus, not two. He didn’t carry any knives himself which meant he gutted a Coterie leader with her blade.
Crimson blood dripped from between Logan’s fingers, splashing onto the floor, and the werewolves howled, either in grief or rage, she wasn’t sure. Quite possibly they were simply hungry. The scent of blood now an overwhelming stench. A slow glance around the room showed several werewolves struggling against the change. Aaron’s eyes were closed, fists clenched and veins popping out on his arms as he strained to control the wolves baser side.
Suppressing the mindless bloodlust was taxing. More so with no one else to share the burden.
Derek ghosted over to Aaron, silent and fast for one so massive. Placing a hand on the Coterie’s shoulder, he too closed his eyes and channeled his own strength into the sole leader.
One by one, the Elites tossed off the desire for carnage, caging the primitive beast inside.
A newcomer, possibly the mage who shielded Logan, took advantage of the confusion. A faint change in the air, the increase in ozone tipped off Julia.
Slipping into her inner sight, taking care to avoid Mara and Roan, she saw the gathering energy twisting inside him. Too much for a simple spell. He had no reason to need magic; the fighting was over. Healing Logan was a medic’s job.
No, he was generating a large, destructive amount of magic.
Oh shit, a death spell. Someone in this room would die.
No one else noticed his actions, too intent on the bleeding werewolf.
Who was his target? A room filled with powerful and important people, any one of them his intended victim.
Shutting down her inner sight, she scanned the room. The hair lifted on the back of her neck as he released the energy. The faint ghosting from the spell headed straight for Jackson. His minor shielding wouldn’t withstand the excessive surge of power. Without a second thought, she pushed Jackson out of the way and the bolt rammed through her shielding. She dropped to her knees as she convulsed. Everything went dark, her body falling limp to the ground.
This sucks. She thought as her consciousness slipped away.
Chapter Twenty-Five
JACKSON WHIPPED AROUND, wondering why Julia pushed him. His heart stopped as he stared at her motionless body sprawled on the floor. A scream of agony ripped from his throat and he rushed to her side. Slamming down onto his knees, he gathered her in his arms, his body shaking in fear. He smoothed some loose hair from her face, willing her to open her eyes.
“Julia, Julia! No…” He moaned as his fingers slid down to her throat. He checked for her pulse, but there was no beat, no sluggish movement, nothing. His brain wouldn’t accept it. She couldn’t be dead. Not his Julia.
Dimly, another angry shout of denial shattered the air. Barely contained fury ripped through the room as he heard, “No one is ever allowed to touch her. She’s under my protection!”
Spots appeared before his eyes as a violent flash of light burst in the room. All sound except Jackson’s ragging breathing ceased. He didn’t care. Nothing else mattered. Only Julia. She was the focus of his whole world.
Gently, he laid her on the floor and began CPR, hoping to start her heart again. He counted off thirty chest compressions. He stopped and tilted her head. Opening her mouth, he made sure there was no blockage. Two breathes in and back to chest compressions.
Healing spells weren’t his expertise and he refused to waste a moment trying. He hadn’t forgotten the initial time he healed her and the magic washed over her, unable to fix a sprained ankle. Without her cooperation, how could he heal a stopped heart?
Breathe, damn it, breathe. He thought frantically. Please don’t die.
The other voice raged on, “If she’s dead, you will all die. And I will make it agonizing.”
Footsteps thundered towards him, skidding to a halt within inches from Julia. Not stopping for a second, he continued CPR, willing life back into her body. He wanted to hold her, anchor her to this world with his touch, but instincts were driving him. Eyes blurry with unshed tears, he tore his gaze from Julia’s still form. Markus crouched down next to him, his hand hesitantly inching toward Julia’s arm.
“Is she alive?” Markus sounded as broken as Jackson felt, though his face remained an impenetrable mask. Jackson didn’t care if everyone saw his naked emotions. Impossible to hide the intense pain ripping through him. All training had deserted him.
“I can’t find a pulse. Damn it, I can’t find a pulse.” What would he do without her? He hadn't realized how much joy she brought him. The happiness when she smiled. The fun he had when he teased her. It all crashed into him, crushing him under the weight of pain, seeing her lying so motionless.
“Let me try.” Markus put two fingers onto her neck and waited. He exhaled in relief. “There’s a pulse. It’s faint, very faint, but it’s there. She needs Keeper.” He moved to pick her up. Jackson blocked him. He gathered Julia into his arms, holding her tight to him.
“No, she needs a healer. Keeper can’t help her. I’ll teleport her to the hospital.”
“She can’t be teleported. Trust me. I won’t let anything happen to her.” His voice broke, but he continued, “I love her as my own daughter. I helped raise her. I will not let her die. You either help me or I’ll go through you.”
Jackson tilted his head back, needing a moment to control his emotions. Astonished, he whipped around, taking in the impossible.
Frozen. Everyone in the room including all the Coterie leaders, frozen.
How in the nine hells did he freeze Mara and Roan?
The immense power it took to hold so many people at once was staggering. If Markus wanted to, he’d effortlessly go through Jackson, and Julia would be dead. Instead he was fighting to keep her alive.
With great reluctance, he handed her to Markus and swiftly got to his feet. When it looked as if Markus would protest, Jackson gave him a hard stare. No way would he leave her side.
“More Enforcers will be here soon, the ones I trust. Be good and stay where you are.” Markus stared straight ahead, trusting in the strength of his spell. Jackson shook his head in awe and reminded himself to never, ever piss off Markus.
Chapter Twenty-Six
HOUSED IN THE SUB-BASEMENT of the Coterie Headquarters, the massive library contained much of the mage lore. Also located there, Keeper’s private quarters. Jackson and Markus both hurried to the hidden elevator in the one of the Mage Coterie’s office. Since Keeper dealt almost exclusively in mage lore, access to him was primarily through the mages. Jackson paid scant attention to the plush office, a dramatic contrast to the starkness of the main lobby.
Here, they spared no expense. Thick carpeting, genuine oak desk, Italian leather couch for guests and original paintings from the Group of Seven artists. The far wall a bank of windows overlooking Lake Ontario.
Located on the inside wall, the elevator tucked away from prying eyes. Markus a familiar visitor as his thumbprint and energy signature already keyed in for clearance. They stepped inside and pressed the single button available - basement - and the door slid shut.
Why were they wasting time using an elevator instead of teleporting? Julia was near death. She didn’t have time for this bullshit.
His thought barely finished when the door opened. How in
the nine hells did it go down seventy-five flights in such little time? He almost smacked himself when the obvious answer occurred to him - magic. Why wouldn’t the most powerful mages use a little magic to save them some time, especially if they needed Keeper for an emergency? He wanted to kiss them for their frivolous use.
They hurried down the short hallway which opened to the main greeting room. Another drab area meant to discourage lingering people. More hard, uncomfortable looking chairs (there must’ve been a sale on these terrible chairs) lined the right wall while a small unmanned receptionist desk sat facing them.
Judging by the dust, no one used it.
A plain wooden door faced them across the room, wide open. Keeper gestured for them to hurry and they wasted no time. What could Keeper do for Julia the mage healers couldn’t? They specialized in healing magic. He didn’t.
Jackson wanted to snatch Julia from Markus’ arms. She needed proper help. Winning against the other mage was hopeless though. Even with his magic close to depletion, Markus was still too strong.
Turning his attention to Keeper, he tried to contain his worry for Julia. The pain and fear nearly crippled him, thinking straight near impossible. All rational thought deserted him. Had he been thinking clearly, he would’ve refused bringing Julia here. He should’ve fought harder.
He studied the other man, the one now responsible for saving Julia. Every time he saw Keeper, he readjusted the mental image. He kept expecting a wizened old man and instead the Keeper of All Knowledge was an attractive man in his early thirties. His reddish brown hair had a thread of silver, the only hint of age on him. No laugh lines creased his brown eyes or mouth. He dressed impeccably, a high end suit worth more than a month's salary for Jackson. His loosened tie and slightly mussed hair was the sole sign of his distress.
His lack of visible aging meant he was anywhere from five hundred years old to well over a millennium. Mages aged extremely slowly, something they liked to keep under wraps.
Jackson, at forty-five years old, looked like he’d be more comfortable in a college pub. His unkempt hair and stubble aided this illusion. Compared to Keeper, he was a toddler, barely out of diapers. Even Markus, at over three hundred, easily passed for a college student.
Irrelevant musings, a way to distract his mind as they raced through the large, semi-public library. Many of the books here were replaceable, mass produced and focused on the histories of the races. The rare and valuable books locked away, inaccessible to all but a select few. Jackson heard rumours about what the books and scrolls contained, some which may explain the origins of the different races and forgotten magic, but he’d never had the pleasure to see them.
He rushed passed the rows upon rows of shelves, following closely behind the other two men. Another time, the size of the library would’ve amazed him. There was even an open area with an eight foot long table and several chairs around it to study the books at leisure.
At the far end of the well lit rectangular room, they turned right and the two other men disappeared into the wall.
Assuming they hadn’t forgotten about him, he pushed into the illusion. The initial resistance worried him. He’d encountered this kind of security measure before. If his personal signature wasn’t added, he’d be trapped inside the illusion.
Seconds later, he was standing in a narrow hallway. The electric scones lining the walls gave it a more medieval feel as did the exposed brick walls. He jogged after them, refusing to let Julia out of his sight.
Past the living room and a kitchen, they made a beeline for one of the bedrooms. Jackson had never been in the private quarters of Keeper and he honestly didn’t care what it looked like. He wanted Julia healed. He could’ve been walking through the fiery pits of a demon dimension and it wouldn’t have mattered to him.
It took a few moments for them to reach Keeper’s guest bedroom. At least it seemed to be the guest room as there were no personal touches at all. The walls had landscape paintings. A pale purple bedspread on the bed. The nightstand decorated with a single lamp. And the top of the dresser bare.
Markus began explaining the situation when Keeper interrupted him.
“I felt it when it happened. Lie her down here.” He gestured to the low twin bed. “I already have the stone prepared to mentally connect to her. It’ll help her drop the wall. Once that happens, be ready with your strongest healing spells. Markus, we’ve practiced this. You know what to watch for.” His faint British accent gave him a cultured, knowledgeable air.
Markus and Keeper moved to the right side of the bed while Jackson took up residence on the left. Julia centered in the middle, within easy reach of all three men.
“What in the nine hells is going on? Why aren’t we bringing her to the healers?” Jackson couldn’t hold his tongue any longer. This was literally a matter of life and death.
“Julia’s special. Things you don’t know would affect any treatment given to her. This is the only way. Now, you’re either going to help us or get the hell out of our way.” Keeper snapped at him. Fear and worry bled from his voice. Keeper and Julia knew each other?
“I’ll help. And if she dies because you wouldn’t take her to the healers, I will kill both of you. I don’t care how powerful you are.” Jackson glared at them. The two most powerful mages of the Coterie, barring perhaps Mara and Roan, and he meant every word he said.
“I would expect no less.” Markus replied without a hint of emotion. Despair shadowed his eyes as he glanced at Julia. Tenderly, he ran his fingertips across her cheek before clenching them into a tight fist.
“I’m ready to link with her. As soon as the wall drops, Markus, cast. Don’t waste a second. How long it stays down is anybody’s guess.” Keeper knelt down next to the bed and placed a flat, grey stone on her forehead. His hands rested on top of the small rock.
A meditative chant flowed from him, filling the room with its power. His voice, a soothing, peaceful oasis, helped calm Jackson’s tightly wound nerves. Neck muscles still throbbing from the stress, he wondered if he’d lose Julia so soon after finding her.
Gazing at her, realized he had no idea what they were talking about.
What wall? How would he find it?
Chapter Twenty-Seven
JULIA SAT ON the rocky beach overlooking the lake. Tall trees surrounded the area, standing on guard like majestic sentinels, towering high above the water. A loon cried in the distance. Its haunting call answered by its mate. Pines, oaks and brush grew thick and untamed. A riot of colour splashed across the forest as autumn encroached on summer. Leaves were turning red, orange and yellow. Vivid green from the pines intermingled with the oaks.
The ground itself rocky with a thin layer of dirt. Moss and dead vegetation covered the massive boulders. Patches of wild blueberries thrived throughout the forest, any berries left behind by the birds now overripe and scattered on the soil. Tiny, overgrown trails cut through the underbrush made by small animals.
The lake placid and serene, the sun glinting off its greenish blue water. Insects buzzed around leafy fronds, dodging croaking frogs and jumping fish. A small creek drained from the lake, weaving down its own rocky path, worn by centuries of movement. The second, smaller pond was stagnant and overrun with vegetation. Choked with weeds, lily pads and pussy willows only insects thrived. Fish had long since died out. Marshy grass ringed the water, making it almost impossible to approach.
She loved coming here. The tranquility seeped into her bones, relaxing her, releasing all her worries. She melted into Jackson’s embrace, her back against his solid chest, savouring the feel of his arms around her. Smiling, she took pleasure in listening to Jackson, Markus and Keeper talk about inconsequential things, just everyday patter.
The bright sun shone overhead, no clouds to mar the perfect beauty of the blue sky. Tilting her face upwards, she soaked up the sun’s rays and let her mind drift. Birds chirped and called to one another.
She never wanted this moment to end, wanted to stay here forever.<
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“Julia... Julia... Julia!” Faint at first, someone called her name. The voice became louder with each shout, more insistent. Trying to ignore it, she grabbed for the serenity of this place, wanting to hold on tight. It shattered with another loud yell of her name.
She looked around, trying to pinpoint the location of the call. No one else seemed to notice it as they continued talking. Sighing, she closed her eyes and tried to pretend nothing was amiss. Snuggling deeper into Jackson’s arms, she used him as a warm shield against any intrusions. This was her place, her special place, and she didn’t want anything to ruin it.
“Julia, answer me! I know you’re here. Help me find you.” The voice continued on, unrelenting, crushing her peace.
She wanted to rest, to drift along with no worries to drag her down. Who in the nine hells was calling her name? What did they want?
“Julia, please, answer me!” The voice sounded closer... and familiar. Frowning, she tried to place the voice, to remember who it belonged to. The effort seemed too great and she pushed the thought away.
Please leave me alone, let me stay here. She begged. I want to stay here. Don’t want to go. I’m happy here. Leave me alone. Don’t ruin it.
“Julia.” The voice was now right next to her. If she opened her eyes and acknowledged him, her world would splinter apart. “Open your eyes, Julia. You can’t ignore me. I won’t let you. Open your eyes.”
A command she couldn't resist. So many years she'd listening to him, obeyed him. Sighing deeply, she pried her eyelids apart and glanced upwards. A face as familiar to her as her own stared at her. His hazel eyes shadowed with sorrow and a pain she didn’t understand. A gentle breeze ruffled his hair, sending some of the reddish brown strands across his forehead. He absently brushed them away, his gaze never wavering from hers.
“Keeper. Why are you here? You’re already over there, talking to Markus.” She pointed to where the first Keeper sat on the blanket next to her mentor. She blinked when he dissolved, leaving nothing behind. Markus kept on talking to the air, unconcerned with the disappearing act.
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