Threat of Magic (Dragon's Gift: The Amazon Book 4)

by Linsey Hall

  “Nice place,” Maximus muttered.

  “Peachy.”

  The next street we came to was more residential, but the dark magic in the air made my stomach turn.

  The sounds of hounds picked up again, and I frowned. “What’s with all the dogs? Where are they?”

  “Beats me. I can’t see them.”

  When we reached the crossroads, I stopped dead. “This has to be it.”

  Where the two roads intersected, black magic sparked. It glittered in the air, bringing with it an even stronger stench of rotten flesh.

  Maximus grimaced. “We’re definitely close.”

  I pointed to an archway across the road, sitting at the corner of the crossroads. Hecate’s symbol was carved into the stone. “Bet you twenty bucks there are stairs under that arch.”

  “Not taking that bet.” He grabbed my hand, and we crossed the street, hurrying in front of a carriage that picked up pace when it saw us, aiming to run us over.

  I flipped the driver off, a demon with green fangs.

  He just smiled wider.

  “Dick,” I muttered.

  Maximus chuckled and pointed to the arch. “I’m glad I didn’t take that bet.”

  Jackpot. A wide set of stairs led down into the darkness. Torches burned on either side, and I shivered.

  “It looks like something from nightmares.” I gave my voice my best witchy impression. “Come, come, down into the dark.”

  Maximus wrapped an arm around my shoulders. “I’ve got you, babe.”

  I grinned up at him. “You copping a feel?”

  “Would you object?”

  “With you, no. But I think I’ve made my feelings quite clear, so it wouldn’t be copping, technically.”

  “Just responding to an invitation?”

  “Exactly.”

  “I RSVP yes.”

  I laughed at the terrible joke. “Watch a lot of wedding shows when you were learning about the modern day?”

  “A few.” He shuddered. “I learned what a bridezilla is.”

  “Charming, huh?”

  “Very.”

  I wanted to joke like this forever, but we were literally in hell on a visit to the almost-devil, so now was not the time. “Let’s go.”

  We started down, going side by side into the dark. As we descended, the baying of hounds became louder.

  “They’re down here?” Maximus asked.

  “I think they might be everywhere.”

  We were deep underground by the time the stairs leveled out in a room that was about thirty feet by thirty feet. Hecate’s symbol was etched into the ground, and an archway of flame stood on the other side. We’d have to walk through fire to keep going.

  I swallowed hard. “Fantastic.”

  Maximus walked toward the flame, holding out his hand. Slowly, he moved it closer to the flickering orange fire. “It’s not hot.”

  “Let’s go, then.”

  Together, we walked through the flame. I couldn’t help the spike of adrenaline that hit me—it really looked like fire—so I closed my eyes.

  Just as Maximus had said, it didn’t burn.

  I opened my eyes on the other side and gasped. “Holy fates.”

  “There have to be thousands.” Maximus’s gaze ran over the enormous crowd in the huge underground atrium. The ceiling was high, and though the room was enormous, the crush of bodies was intense.

  “They’re all wearing identical cloaks,” I said. The red fabric draped over their forms, concealing them entirely.

  “Hang on.” Maximus’s magic barely flared as he conjured two cloaks for us.

  I threw mine over my shoulders and pulled up the hood. Maximus did the same, and I reached for his hand, determined not to let go. If I lost him in this crush, I’d never find him again.

  “What can you see up there?” I asked. I might have super good eyesight, but he had the height. And in here, that was everything.

  “Looks like there’s an exit on the other side, through a big arch. There’s a smaller group in front of it.”

  “Let’s join them.”

  He nodded and began to pull me through the crowd. As we pushed through, I realized that all the individuals were chanting something low under their breath. It was almost as if this were a worship session, but everyone was doing it on their own.

  Praying to Hecate? Or someone else?

  I couldn’t quite understand what they were saying. The words were too foreign or jumbled. How were they speaking, though? In Elysium, no one had been able to speak without an offering of blood.

  Maybe that was why they worshipped her.

  A cloaked figure slammed into us, tearing my hand away from Maximus. My heart leapt into my throat, and I bit back a scream.

  “Maximus!” I whispered, reaching out for him.

  The figure who’d slammed into us surged toward me, getting right in my face. Beneath the cloak, I could see crazed blue eyes and a vacant grin. He was semi-ghostly, just like we were.

  The figure reached for my neck, hissing, “Invader.”

  “No.” I smacked his hands away, but he thrust them back at me. Panic trilled along my spine.

  If everyone here realized that we were interlopers, we were dead. No way we could fight them all. The figure wrapped strong hands around my neck and squeezed.

  I might’ve looked dead because of the potion, but I sure as heck wasn’t. My neck ached and my lungs burned as he cut off my air.

  Oh fates, he could kill me.

  Chapter Ten

  Quickly, I drew a dagger from the ether and shoved it into his stomach.

  Please work.

  The figure opened his mouth as if to scream, and I smacked a hand over his lips, grimacing at the slimy feel. Ew.

  I twisted the knife, jerking it upward.

  The figure crumpled.

  My blade slipped out as he fell, and I looked up, desperately searching for Maximus. He pushed his way past two people, stopping right in front of me.

  “He could sense we were different.” My heart still pounded in my ears.

  “Let’s hurry, then.” Maximus grabbed my hand again. This time, his grip was almost punishingly tight, but I squeezed back even harder.

  We slipped through the crowd, trying to keep the shoving to a minimum. No need to draw attention.

  By the time we neared the small group in front of the arch, I was panting. Despite the high ceiling, this place felt insanely claustrophobic. All around, people pushed and jostled, excited for something. Occasionally, I saw flashes of the people beneath the cloaks. All were ghostly, and all had the intense eyes of the man who’d attacked me.

  It was a cult. Some kind of weird dark magic death cult.

  And their leader was the one I was supposed to convince to give us world-saving info.

  Yeah, that’d be easy.

  Flames burst to life in the middle of the archway, briefly flaring a bright blue. The energy in the crowd rose, and excited murmurs filtered through.

  Maximus’s grip on my hand tightened. I held my breath, waiting. The anticipation in the air was impossible to ignore, and even I started to feel a bit excited.

  I took it as more evidence that I had an unnatural affinity for this place. No matter how hard I wanted to get rid of the darkness inside me, it was always there.

  Just my freaking luck.

  The flames flared bright purple, and the crowd surged forward. Maximus and I didn’t even have a choice. We were carried through on a wave of bodies, flowing with the crowd toward the purple flames. My heart thundered as we neared, and I struggled to move backward, to have some control of our destination. Maximus pulled back as well, but the crush of bodies was too powerful. They forced us through the flames, which reeked of sulfur and prickled against my skin as we passed.

  Thank fates they didn’t burn.

  We entered a room that was far smaller than the one we’d been in. The ceiling was about thirty feet high, and it was a narrow space, over a hundred feet lo
ng. On the far end rose a stone platform. A waterfall poured down from behind it, sparkling with dark magic. The crowd surged toward it, beginning to chant. Their words were unfamiliar, which meant they weren’t Greek, since I could now understand it. There were possibly some Greek root words, but this was some dark hell language.

  The crowd stopped abruptly in front of the waterfall, leaving about twenty feet between them and the platform with the water pouring down behind it. Maximus and I stood right in the middle of them, pressed together.

  Hounds began to howl, baying toward a moon I couldn’t see. I looked around, searching for them, but saw only the crowd of ghosts with feverish eyes.

  “Where the hell are they?” Maximus murmured.

  “No idea.”

  The waterfall flared with dark magic, catching my attention. I turned toward it, unconsciously leaning forward with the rest of the crowd.

  Whatever they were waiting for was about to happen.

  A moment later, a tall figure stepped through the waterfall, her dark hair flowing down her back. Two tall dogs stood at her side, each skinny with sleek black fur and red eyes. They stood on the stone stage, staring out at the crowd.

  The woman was beautiful in a cruel way, with thin lips and dark eyes. Her dress was a glorious purple sheath of silk, with flowing sleeves trimmed in gold.

  Damn, Hecate could dress.

  Her magic reeked of sulfur and rotten vegetables, and the smile that she shot the crowd was both satisfied and devious. She definitely liked being worshiped. With the way this crowd was nearly vibrating with excitement, they liked worshipping her.

  Pride. That was her thing, according to Mordaca.

  Her dark gaze traveled over the worshippers and stopped on Maximus and me. Her eyes widened.

  Well, there went our cover.

  I’d hoped to observe her for longer, but it looked like that wasn’t going to happen.

  “Intruders.” She pursed her lips and tilted her head. “Well, isn’t that interesting.”

  My heart began to thud. If she decided to sic her minions on us, we were in trouble. I tensed, ready to fight.

  She looked down at her dogs. “Brutus? Judas? What do you think?”

  They woofed. I had no idea what it meant, but she seemed to like it, because she smiled and raised her hands to make a parting-the-waters gesture. The crowd surged back from us, forming a ring with us at the center. There was about twenty feet between me and the nearest cult member, but somehow, this felt even more claustrophobic. Everyone stared at us, their interest palpable.

  The dark waterfall shimmered, and twenty transparent blue figures stepped out from beneath the water, flanking Hecate like an army.

  My heart leapt into my throat and my skin turned to ice.

  Phantoms.

  Oh, shit.

  Shit, shit, shit.

  I wanted to turn and run—anyone in their right mind would turn and run.

  Phantoms were literally the worst supernatural creatures out there, and it didn’t surprise me a bit that Hecate would have an army of them. The ghostly figures fed on the misery and fear of their victims, forcing them to relive everything terrible in their lives.

  Why the hell were they here?

  Though I asked the question, I had a sinking feeling that I knew.

  It was nearly impossible to fight Phantoms. Del, the FireSoul who was half Phantom, could go up against them when she was in her Phantom form. But they were so incorporeal that I couldn’t make contact with them in my human form.

  But if they got a grip on me…

  I shuddered.

  Hecate said nothing, just raised her hands and gestured like a flight attendant pointing down the aisle toward the exit at the back. She looked like an icy cold bitch, and I swallowed hard.

  The Phantoms surged forward, a wave of transparent blue figures. They were on us in an instant, their cold hands grasping. A strong grip tightened on my arm, and the touch nearly made my knees buckle. Pain shot through me as my mind exploded with agony.

  Images of my sisters dying at the hands of the Titans flashed in my head, making tears spring to my eyes. Thoughts of me succumbing to the darkness within me followed close on its heels.

  I would become a slave to the darkness and forsake my sisters, resulting in their deaths. Resulting in the destruction of the Protectorate. The death of Maximus.

  Memories of my time with the Rebel Gods surged within me. I’d succumbed to their darkness during my captivity.

  I was prone to it.

  I could do it again.

  I would do it again.

  The horrible thoughts tumbled around in my head as the Phantoms reached for me, their hands scrabbling against my limbs.

  I sucked in a ragged breath, trying to get control of myself. I couldn’t fail like this, a victim to my own worst fears.

  Beside me, Maximus struck out.

  His hand connected with a Phantom’s cheek, and the creature flung backward.

  Wait, what?

  Maximus had been able to hurt the Phantoms.

  Because we were also kind of ghostly?

  Maybe.

  I’d take it.

  As the terrible thoughts threatened to drag me down into despair, I swung my fist toward the nearest monster. My hand connected with its cheek, and the creature stumbled backward.

  Hell yeah.

  The little victory gave me hope, and funnily enough, that hope was enough to light a fire within me. Horrible images still flowed through my mind, making me shake, but I had enough strength to lash out.

  I went wild, kicking and punching. It was like a demon took over my body, fueled by panic and terror. There was nothing worse than being trapped in my own fears, and I’d do anything to get out of it.

  The Phantoms began to stumble back, my attack more than they could take. Next to me, Maximus fought off his own demons, and they were surging backward even faster than mine were.

  “Enough!” Hecate’s voice echoed through the chamber.

  The Phantoms stopped, but I didn’t. I charged them.

  When I came back to my senses, the idea that I’d charged them would sound insane. But I couldn’t help it.

  I was sick of being afraid. Sick of it.

  Sick of my horrible memories, sick of my fear of falling to the darkness, sick of my fear of not being good enough.

  So I went nuts, going after the Phantoms like I was going to tear them limb from limb.

  “I said, enough!” Hecate’s voice thundered through the room, and my limbs froze in place.

  I was in mid punch, my arm outstretched. I could even feel the snarl on my face. But I was frozen solid. Though I couldn’t even move my eyes, I could just barely make out the image of Hecate staring at me. The Phantoms were frozen all around, some of them running, some of them looking like they wanted to charge me, their hands outstretched and their faces twisted in hungry grimaces.

  Bring it! I wanted to shout.

  “Come.” Hecate’s icy voice cracked through the room, and the Phantoms followed the command, drifting back to stand behind her.

  My limbs unfroze, and I almost fell over. At the last second, I caught myself, staying on my feet. Panting, I stared at Hecate, hating her with everything in my soul.

  Then I turned and went back to Maximus, who looked pale beneath his hood. His jaw was tense and his eyes shadowed. He’d probably just relived his time in the Colosseum, or something even worse. I wanted to reach for him. To comfort him.

  It wasn’t an option right now. Revealing weakness was the worst thing we could to.

  So I stopped next to him, pressing my shoulder to his. It was the most we could manage, and it helped. Warmth spread through me, his touch grounding me. He was my anchor in the storm, and I hoped I was his.

  I turned to face Hecate.

  “Who are you?” Hecate demanded. “And what are you doing in my domain, uninvited?”

  “I don’t suppose you’d believe we want to join your cult?” I almost pu
t the word weird in front of cult, but bit it back at the last minute. I’d seen what she was capable of, and I didn’t want to mess with her.

  “You could only wish to be so lucky as to join my minions.”

  I glanced around to see how the crowd liked being called minions, but there was just an audible sigh of happiness from this bunch.

  Oookay.

  Weirdos.

  “Who are you?” Her voice cracked like a whip.

  I drew back my hood to reveal my face. “I am Rowan Blackwood, the Greek Dragon God.”

  Her brows rose. “Ah, so you are the one.”

  I nodded.

  “Well, I didn’t give you my magic.”

  No, and I was glad. Only some of the Greek gods had volunteered, and I was having enough of a problem with Hades’s magic that I didn’t want her dirty stuff as well.

  I shrugged. “Fine by me.”

  She scowled, then seemed to realize she was showing emotion, and smoothed out her features. “I don’t think I like you.”

  I resisted a second shrug, and I definitely didn’t say that I didn’t like her either.

  “And who’s the big fellow with you?” she purred.

  Maximus drew back his hood, and she stared at him appreciatively.

  Ha. She might’ve wanted him, but he was mine.

  “I am Maximus Valerius.”

  “Ah, gladiator. I followed your exploits in the Colosseum years ago.”

  Of course she had a thing for enforced blood sports. What a bitch.

  He nodded, but said nothing and appeared to be supremely bored. Despite the pain of what we’d just gone through, he was determined to piss her off. Mordaca had said “be tough,” and he had no problem with that. I nearly grinned. Her pride would not like that.

  “Well, neither of you are weak. Why are you here?”

  “We have questions,” I said.

  “Why would I answer them?”

  “Maybe you can’t.”

  “I can do anything.”

  “Really?” I tried to make my voice skeptical. She clearly wasn’t going to give me the info I wanted because I asked nicely. So I had to trick her into it. Or win it from her.

  “Of course I can.” She scoffed.

  “Better than me?”

  She looked at me like I was crazy. Maybe I was.