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by Larsen, Patti


  I was thrown from Femke’s mind and power, staggering slightly, head on fire for an instant before my vampire soothed it. And felt my stomach clench into a knot so tight I could barely draw breath.

  That’s why, my demon sent, her normal fire cooled in her anxiety.

  Poor Femke. Shaylee wept softly, though her strength never waned.

  We must help her. My vampire’s anger showed rarely, but now was an appropriate time. Except as I pulled myself back to the present and into the chaos around me, I realized this might be the worst time after all.

  Mom’s magic vibrated around her as Femke’s tried to pin her down. The two hounds repelled the WPC leader’s attempt to hold my mother, their own massive capacity filled beyond the magic they’d once controlled. I think I’d made a pair of monsters. Good thing they were on our side. Quaid looked so pale I thought he’d pass out at any moment. Piers had at some point crushed Jean Marc to the floor under a blanket of black and was trying to keep Tallah off his prisoner while Varity held off the other Enforcers.

  What the hell happened? Best guess, while I was digging around in her damaged and possessed psyche, Femke snapped.

  Might be a good time to interfere, Piers sent to me. Before someone dies. He didn’t sound amused now. Or like he was kidding.

  My white sorcery, tying easily into the black hounds, shut them all down. I hated to do it, but there was no alternative. Heavy handedness wasn’t exactly something I shied from, but things were so out of control right now I feared this little act of mine might put Mom at risk as she feared.

  No way around it, sweetheart, Mom sent, desperation counterpoint to her grim tone. I hope you found out something you can use. Because this isn’t going to end well if Femke isn’t dealt with.

  Oh, I knew what was wrong now. Trouble was, I had no idea how to help. I stared at Femke who thrashed in my grip, teeth chattering with her need to fight me, and tried not to weep with Shaylee.

  Konstantin. The damned Black Soul sorcerer. He’d embedded a part of his soul in my friend to control her and it was slowly eating her alive.

  Mom, I sent. Be prepared for anything. It was all the warning I had to give, opened to Piers and Varity at the same time, to Quaid. The black dogs already linked to me knew the score. Screw everyone else, including the Hensleys. If this went wrong, there was a good chance they’d be mental smears on the floor when I was done.

  White sorcery curved into a tight blade, the former hounds of the Wild Hunt backing me, I dove back inside Femke and began to carve away the soul of Konstantin.

  Slippery, oily and sneaking past my every move, the slice of black soul evaded me like a snake in the water. What was meant to be a sudden and instant rescue became a long drawn battle where my physical eyes watched Femke’s body stretch upward as if she’d been put in a noose, whole body shaking from the effort I made to free her from the slavery of the Black Soul. Internally Galleytrot and Darae both snapped and snarled at the creeping sliver of spirit, their dog instincts driving them mad with frustration as they chased it down only to fail over and over. They grunted in my mind, whining their frustration. I knew the feeling intimately.

  Tallah and Shenka fell back from Femke while the two dogs and I struggled to catch the illusive stain, staring in horror. The room flooded with Enforcers, battering against Varity and Mom and Piers. My determination paled to hope, spun to despair and, finally, as Femke collapsed with the spirit of the evil sorcerer still inside her, failure.

  I’m sorry, Syd, Galleytrot panted. This is beyond us.

  I slammed everyone back, panting, chest hurting as my friend collapsed onto the floor. Dying. The Black Soul was killing her and it would finish the job if I fought against it any longer. It made that infinitely clear to me, the scrap of who Konstantin had been giggling his evil glee into the darkness he spread over her again.

  I had all the power in the Universe, skills and experience no one else had. The will and drive to succeed born of hard knocks and steady success against all odds. But right here, right now, when it seemed to matter most, there was nothing I could to do save her. And that hurt most of all.

  I let Mom feel it even as I flexed my power and shoved the invading Enforcers out of the room and into the hall, sealing it the door behind them. The two hounds reinforced my shielding, the weight of their massive magic an immobile mountain. Let the Enforcers batter against such power, wear themselves out. It didn’t matter, none of it mattered. I’d failed my friend from the moment I let her be kidnapped.

  If Konstantin was still alive, I would have killed him myself for what he’d done.

  Can we raise his ego and… my demon trailed off. Oh.

  Yeah. Oh. All of the dead are gone. I hated to sound so pathetic, so without hope. But it was true. Any chance we had of talking to the echo of Konstantin was lost to the void along with the Universe’s spirt magic. Maybe I could reach the piece of spirit left behind? Expose it somehow to the void and let that dark place do the rest? But from his original, gleeful retreat, convincing the actual soul of the creature to put itself in a risk situation would actually be harder than leaning on his ego. At least the echo of who he had been would be malleable. The soul, on the other hand… spirits were another matter altogether. And it had anchored to Femke so deeply it was part of her now, linked firmly to her own spirit, keeping itself safe from the pull of the void.

  Did anyone really have any experience with this kind of thing? I didn’t. The souls I knew—aside from Liam’s sacrifice—were long gone after their bodies were dead. There had to be a way.

  Can you help? My question to the vampire inside me was tentative and she answered with equal reticence.

  I don’t know, Syd. Her whisper sounded hoarse and wobbly. Maybe. But the trouble is containing the spirit inside her. Tracking it and controlling it so it doesn’t kill her while we talk to it. I’m not even sure where to start. And trying to expose it to the void might put me at risk. Though it’s one I’m willing to take if it will save her life.

  Not even going there.

  So now what? My demon wasn’t about to let me give up.

  We must be practical about this, my vampire sent, soft and regretful. We may be forced to remove Femke from power so she can no longer be a threat to others. No mention of the threat she posed to herself.

  You mean kill her.

  I do. Caring in her tone, but truth. If that’s what we must do.

  No way. There had to be a solution I was missing because I was so emotionally attached, so deep into this. I was just tired. Something would come to me.

  Wouldn’t it?

  “Syd.” And then Femke spoke, her blue eyes clear if full of pain, one hand rising toward me. I fell to my knees at her side, cradling her head in my lap. “Oh, Syd. I know. Please, if you love me.”

  I nodded, tears falling to splash on her pale cheek. “I’m doing everything I can,” I said. “We’ll fix this.”

  “No, Syd,” she whispered, the madness creeping in around the edges. “You know what you have to do.”

  She understands, my vampire sent.

  Absolutely not. “I’m not killing you,” I said.

  “Put me out of my misery.” Femke wept, shook, pressed her face into my leg. “Please, it hurts so much.” Her blue eyes blinked slowly, huge and bulging as she visibly fought what returned to take her over. “I beg you, if you are my friend, my sister,” her hand clutched at me, “you will end this now and save all of us from what I’m becoming.”

  I held her against me, choking on tears that didn’t seem to want to stop. I can’t, I sent. But I’ll save you, Femke. I promise. You just need to hold it together a little while longer. Can you do that?

  Her mental wail drove a dagger of guilt through my heart.

  ***

  Chapter Twenty Two

  At least the Enforcers we finally let back in the room didn’t try to arrest us outright. Femke regained enough of herself to tell them to stand down, though as I helped her to her feet, shaking an
d weak, I felt her losing her battle all over again.

  We left her in Quaid’s care before the black spirit inside her could turn her against us and make this whole mess worse than it already was, fleeing from Hong Kong. Piers left on his own, Jean Marc still in his possession, at least. I trusted him not to let the former Dumont go even if Femke broke completely and came for him. Piers was smart enough to find a way to hide the former Brotherhood leader from her when she recovered.

  If she recovered. If the Black Soul inside her hadn’t done so much damage to her by now she wouldn’t even be able to mumble the alphabet while she drooled in a corner. I should have done what she asked, should have released her from her pain. But Quaid’s power and eyes and fear begged me not to and I just couldn’t be the one to stop her heart.

  I couldn’t quit on her no matter what she wanted.

  As for Tallah and Shenka, I was all for taking their sorry asses back to Harvard with us, but Mom just shrugged and turned her back on them. There had been no backlash from my workover of Femke thanks to Quaid, so the two remained intact, at least. But they both looked lost, broken, especially when Femke ordered them taken from her presence.

  Let them suffer for their choices and try to justify to themselves what they’d done.

  Mom sighed in my head as we departed, the cool, dimness of her office in Boston embracing us like a hug after the insanity of the last fifteen minutes. Was it really that short of a time? I shook my head as I sealed the veil behind us, Varity collapsing into a chair across from Mom’s desk. “You two know how to throw a party,” she said. “I take it we’re going to take steps to protect our territory from now on?”

  Mom, grim, nodded. “Seal our borders,” she said, regret in her eyes. “From all comers.”

  Not good. But I hardly blamed her. Do you need my help? I knew she did and yet, when she hugged me gently, kissing my cheek, she let me go with her heart as much as her body when she stepped away.

  “Go,” she said. “Do Syd things. We’ll handle this.”

  I grimaced. Just call, I sent. I’m here, Mom.

  I know, sweetheart, she sent. But I’m also acutely aware now of your other activities. She winced slightly. The loss of my power… and the loss of you for six months. From her tone both were unbearable, brought tears to my eyes I blinked away. She heaved a sigh, as though accepting at last who I’d become. We need you out there, too. And we’ll be fine.

  She didn’t sound convinced herself she had things handled, not completely, but I knew better than to argue with her. Loved her for her faith in me, even when my own was on shaky ground.

  I left them with a plan half formed in my head, chest tight and sore as I touched down on the grass outside the entrance to the werepalace. Charlotte’s magic bumped into mine the moment I appeared, welcoming me inside. I wasn’t sure she’d be home, but was glad to find her in her quarters, settling into a soft couch a few minutes later with a glass of wine in my hand and my werewolf royal friends sitting across from me, intent canine senses focused completely.

  I loved that about them.

  Charlotte didn’t flinch when I told them what I’d discovered about Femke, though her husband, Sage, seemed less stoic. He’d not been a werewolf his whole life, so I had to forgive him his lack of complete calm when it came to bad news. That distinction was reserved for the level and dedicated werewoman I knew so well.

  When I finished, I took a sip of wine. “I need to see Danilo,” I said.

  That time I got to her. Charlotte’s blue eyes tightened a moment before she sat back, crossing her long legs. “He’s in prison.” Dull and dead, her tone. So Charlotte.

  “I know,” I said. “WPC prison. Do you know where?”

  She shook her head, but not as a negative. “I’m not sure what you think he can do for you.”

  “Danilo was in close contact with the mafia at the time Femke was kidnapped,” I said. “He might know if there are other Black Soul sorcerers who survived.” It was my last hope. If so, if I could track one of Konstantin’s people, maybe I could convince him or her to help me.

  With violence, if necessary. I hoped it was necessary. Please, let me hit something.

  Charlotte’s lips twitched, but she nodded sharply, once. “I’m coming with you.”

  I’d counted on that.

  We left the anxious and unhappy Sage behind as my werefriend and I stepped through the veil. Now what? Her mental touch always felt more wolfish than woman.

  Part of the reason I hoped you’d come, I sent. You and your brother have the same parents, the same DNA. I might be able to track him through that family connection.

  She held still as I dove into her power, as clear and open to me as always. The wolf in her welcomed me, quiet and watchful. I would never betray its trust, asking it to kindly show me where her brother was. How odd, the way she felt now. There was a time she’d been not quite so perfect, before she embraced her wolf and became whole. I liked her this way much better. She almost felt drach.

  Which made me pause. Have any of your people gone missing?

  Not yet, she sent. Though I’ve heard from Piers he’s starting to lose sorcerers. And your mother admitted some witch families have vanished.

  Neither of them shared that with me, I growled.

  You have more important things to worry about, she sent. Can you stop the exodus?

  No. Hated admitting it, too.

  Then why should they trouble you with obvious issues you can’t change? Wolf logic. I could choke her for it sometimes. Can we get on with this?

  Fine. Whatever.

  Femke or Quaid or whoever it was that imprisoned Danilo might have thought they were clever using sorcery to hide him. But they hadn’t counted on the combination of Charlotte’s still intense connection to her brother—emotional and physical—and the fact my white sorcery trumped their black every day of the week.

  We touched down underground in a quiet, white painted hallway with buzzing lights overhead and a sterile scent to the air. Why was it always underground? All the better to crush the souls of those within, I guess. No sight of outside, nothing but the white and the stillness and that horrible smell.

  It had to be hell for a werewolf. I’d always thought Mom did Danilo a disservice by letting him live. This would be a fate worse than death for the former wereking. From the sudden flash of despair in Charlotte’s wolf magic, she agreed with me, though it was there and gone so fast anyone else would have missed it.

  “We should hurry.” Her voice barely carried in the muffled air of the hallway. Who knew what the surveillance in this place was like? Chances are whoever guarded this place—Enforcers, more than likely—already knew we were here. Let them try to stop me from seeing Danilo.

  From doing what I feared I needed to help Femke. I just hoped I could live with the consequences of what I was about to do.

  If Charlotte suspected she didn’t say anything, simply led me with unerring confidence across the narrow hall to the white door with the large number 213 on it. Cell number? Who knew? Who cared? Not when it opened at the touch of her hand and she let herself in.

  I clenched my jaw against the sight within, the tall, handsome man with the heavy black beard that reminded me more of a bear than a wolf, who gazed at us from where he sat crossed legged on the floor, looking up with sad eyes.

  “I knew you’d come,” Danilo said. “I’m ready.”

  ***

  Chapter Twenty Three

  Was he really? I didn’t think so. Sudden anger woke inside me, the same instant power hit my shields. The Enforcers were coming, an alarm claxon sounding overhead as a bright, red light burst into life on the ceiling.

  Danilo looked suddenly confused, Charlotte lunging gracefully forward to grasp his arm and jerk him to his feet. So, she did know why we’d come. As she turned with her brother in her grasp, gaze flat and unemotional, I thanked her silently for trusting me.

  “I don’t think you’re ready for this,” I said, opening the ve
il as the magic of four Enforcers hit the door behind us.

  “What are you doing?” Panic washed over his face. “I thought you were here to kill me.”

  Charlotte snorted and shoved him ahead of her through the gap in the veil. “You’re an idiot,” she winked at me. “This is a jail break.”

  Five seconds later we stood on the peak in Nepal, the empty and looming castle of the Empress of vampires watching over us. It was the most remote place I could think of and without any power or observers we could at least have a moment to talk. I locked us down under a shield of white sorcery and crossed my arms over my chest while Danilo shivered, hugging himself under his thin, cream jumpsuit.

  He’d lost weight, his usually buff physique now lean and long, making him seem less lumbering juggernaut and sharper blade. Pale skin made him appear wasted, though a terrible hope burned in his dark eyes.

  “I don’t deserve my freedom.” And yet, he wasn’t really arguing with me. Charlotte punched him hard in the shoulder, irritation showing.

  “Shut up and listen,” she snarled.

  He nodded, swallowed. “What do you need?”

  So willing and eager. I’d take it. And filled him in on what happened up to now. He listened as he shivered in the cold air and I finally took pity on him, warming the bubble we stood inside to a more comfortable temperature while he absorbed what I said.

  “You could have asked Mother,” he said at last. “She was as much a part of this as I was.”

  “We know that,” I said. “But I figured you had more incentive to help us than her.” And considering she was long gone, escaped through sorcerous assistance to who knew where, I couldn’t ask Olena such pressing questions.

  Not until I tracked her down and forced the truth from her. Another time. When I had time.

  “I don’t have proof,” he said at last, “but I always suspected the Black Souls infiltrated further into the mafia than just a power connection.”

 

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