Hot Magic

by Holli Bertram

  “I’m your Guardian. I’m checking to see if everything is all right.”

  “No. Everything is not all right.” Harry might be having sex with another woman while she languished in prison. Okay, it was a nice room, with killer clothes, but she was still languishing.

  She tried to pull her thoughts together and think clearly. How could she be selfish enough to be angry with Harry when she knew he needed to break the curse? Would she rather he suffer with Marguerite in his head or have sex with another woman? Afraid to think about it too closely, she spoke. “Can you get word to my mother, Dorie and Tasha about where I am?”

  “That’s not in my job description.” Linda folded her arms and tapped a foot, encased in what looked like purple alligator skin.

  “Linda, please.”

  She shrugged. “Already have. All three of them are on a plane on their way here.”

  The news cheered her and worried her at the same time.

  Linda nodded at her. “That was some feat, you pulling all those folks out of Gehenna. Twice. Absolutely brilliant work. Made all Triad members proud.”

  Yeah. But not proud enough to ignore a little thing like making a deal with a demon. Besides, Julie wasn’t sure that she could even be considered a Triad member, with her mixed heritage. A thought occurred to her. “If I’m not a Triad member, can I be held to Triad laws?”

  “Don’t go there, Dancer. You better be a Triad member.”

  “Why?”

  “If they decide you’re wild, you’ll get banished. If they decide you’re a demon, nobody’s gonna want anything to do with you.”

  “I don’t have cooties, you know. Just a demon father. It’s not contagious.” She tried not to be hurt. “You all have a real thing against demons, don’t you?”

  Linda just stared at her.

  “Okay. Sorry. Root of all evil. I know.” She sighed.

  “There’s no easy way out for you. The Council will put you through the wringer, and then Harrison will pronounce judgment. He’s known for his strict interpretation of the law.”

  “Doesn’t Harry have to recuse himself on account of possible bias?” He knew her. He’d kissed her. He’d been to Hell and back with her. Surely that counted for something.

  “Balances aren’t biased.”

  “Ever?”

  “Ever.”

  Linda sounded very sure of herself. Which made Julie slightly less sure of the outcome of her trial. She’d counted on Harry to have a bias toward finding her innocent. But what had Joe said? The law would always come first with Harrison. Adventure had come first with Jack. War and evil came first with her father. Maybe her demon blood led her into her own personal little hell of bad relationships.

  She began pacing the room. “What are the chances I’ll get a not guilty verdict?”

  “Did you make a deal with a demon?”

  “There were extenuating circumstances,” she hedged.

  “Did you make a deal with a demon?” Linda repeated.

  Julie sighed. “Technically, yes.”

  “You’re guilty, Dancer.”

  She stopped pacing. “What will happen to me?”

  “The Balance likes you, so you may just be sent to Lobolo for a couple hundred years.”

  “I’m so glad he cares.” With friends like that…it was time to plan a prison break.

  Bas suddenly appeared in the room.

  Julie jerked and fell back on the bed. “Bas! You scared me.” She pushed up on her elbows.

  “Sorry.” He spoke tersely as he took her arm and pulled her to her feet. He wore jeans and a white T-shirt today. His lips were set in a tense line.

  Julie felt a flicker of concern before she remembered what Linda said he’d been doing. Pimping for Harry. But why would that make Bas worried? Women were no doubt lining up to sleep with the man.

  “Come.” Bas tugged on her arm. Julie stepped toward him, her heart racing. She’d never seen Bas like this before. His face was hard and his eyes glittered, filled with a vast and ancient power. Gone were any signs of his usual humor and charm. Something was seriously wrong.

  Quick as a whip, Linda broke his grip with a wicked swipe of her hand and inserted her body between them. “The Dancer’s not going anywhere. She’s under Triad arrest and can only be released by Council edict.”

  Bas gritted his teeth but spoke calmly. “Peace, Guardian.”

  Linda stiffened and stepped aside, quickly and silently. Bas gripped Julie by the waist and pulled her against him. She locked her hands on his arms, driven by a sudden, desperate worry for Harry.

  Then she stood in what appeared to be a lush office. Her gaze swept the room quickly, logging details. A large, mahogany desk took up most of one side of the room. Two laptops and a neat stack of paper looked lost on the massive surface. Beige walls and gleaming hardwood floors gave the space its only hint of warmth. Several black and white pictures broke the monotony of the walls. Ansel Adams? Oddly enough, the room held no furniture other than the desk and chair, giving it an empty feel. Except for the fact that Luc stood in front of the desk, frowning at the floor beside it.

  Not at the floor. At someone on the floor. Julie was already moving when she saw two shining wingtips poking out from behind the side of the desk.

  Harry.

  She brushed past Luc. She barely noted that Marguerite lay on the floor beside Harry. She dropped to her knees. Harry didn’t move. His face scrunched, as if he were locked in the act of lifting a heavy object. Her hand went immediately to his heart. It beat quickly under the soft, white silk of his shirt.

  “What’s wrong with him, Bascule?” She gently smoothed the hair away from his forehead. He felt cold, stiff. “What has she done?” She couldn’t even look at Marguerite.

  “Your father’s enemy, Ashakarin, uses the link he helped Marguerite forge to access the Balance’s mind. Ashakarin is attempting to invade and take over the Balance.”

  “Why?”

  Bas squatted down beside her, his eyes trained on Harry’s face. “Ashakarin lives for two things—to escape Lobolo and to get back at your father for putting him there. Very few people have access to the lost dimension. Only a few of the Immortals. And Harrison. The Balance is given the knowledge by the previous Balance, when he assumes the position. For the Triad, it is the place of ultimate punishment.”

  “So Ashakarin can gain his freedom if he controls Harry,” Julie said slowly.

  “Yes.”

  “He must be very powerful to be able to attack Harry like this from another dimension.”

  “He is.”

  “How did my father defeat him?” Her hand traced Harry’s jaw as her mind worked furiously. She had to touch him, connect with him. She had to save him.

  “Ashakarin is powerful but your father is brilliant. Abigor tricked him.”

  Julie took in a deep breath and leaned toward Bas. “If I have sex with Harry right now, will this all end?”

  “If you can have sex with Harry right now, you’re even more powerful than I think you are.” Bas nodded toward the still man on the floor. “It’s not going to happen. His energy is focused on the battle he wages against Ashakarin. He’s fighting for his soul.”

  Julie’s hand went again to Harrison’s chest and she rubbed gently, as if she could give him her heat. He was so cold.

  With frightening clarity, the perfect solution popped into her head. She ignored it. “I’m a social worker,” she said loudly, just to remind herself. “I help people.” But while she subscribed to the Social Work Code of Ethics, she hadn’t actually sworn to a Hippocratic Oath. Okay, where did that last bit come from? Her heart started beating faster. “Shut up, brain.”

  Bas frowned. “Julie?”

  She spoke quickly. “What if Marguerite dies? Will that break the link?” She was gathering information, nothing more. Luc made an odd noise, but she didn’t look at him.

  Bas watched her with interest. “You’re going to kill Marguerite?”

  Jul
ie finally turned to the woman beside Harry. Marguerite seemed to be in agony. She fidgeted restlessly, her hand thrashing out toward Harry. “She’s in a lot of pain. I bet she would ask me to do it if she could. It would be a mercy, a good thing.” She looked up and met Bas’s steady gaze. Her voice fell to a whisper. “Isn’t Harry’s life worth more than hers?”

  Harry had given his whole life to the Triad from the time he was a child. No one had ever loved him. Except maybe Bas, and Bas was hardly a warm fuzzy. This brave and good man deserved so much more than to have his soul destroyed because of this woman’s stupidity.

  “Marguerite is nothing.” The words rasped out of Julie’s throat, surprising her.

  “You judge her harshly,” Bas commented quietly.

  “I could kill her, couldn’t I?” Julie rubbed both hands against her thighs and contemplated the idea. She felt the power in the room, pushing against her skin, hers to shape.

  “Think it, and it would be done,” Bas agreed. “No fuss, no muss.”

  “Then Harry could get up and walk away from all this, free and whole.”

  “Yes,” Bas said quietly.

  Julie tried to think it through clearly, but emotion swamped her, confusing her. The only thing she knew for sure was that Harry could not die. She could not let that happen.

  Bas said nothing.

  Luc’s voice came from above her head. “You can’t judge my sister. You can’t kill her. You don’t have the right.”

  She looked up, anger emerging, bright and clean. “She gave up her rights when she allowed Ashakarin into her head, when she allowed herself to become a conduit of evil. What right does she have to kill Harry?”

  “If you kill Marguerite, you are no better than she.” Luc met her gaze, unflinching.

  “Ha! Is that supposed to make me feel bad? I’m far worse than she.” Julie stood slowly. “I’m the evil she only channels.”

  “No. You’re not.” Luc shook his head vehemently but took a step backward.

  Julie turned to Bas, who had one hand on Harry’s arm, one on Marguerite’s. His eyes were narrowed and his face intent, as if he could monitor the flow of energy between the two people on the floor. “What should I do, Bas?”

  Bas opened his eyes fully, his gaze unfathomable. Very slowly he removed his hands from both Harrison and Marguerite. “Kill her, Julie.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  “What did you say?” Julie couldn’t believe her ears.

  “Kill her,” Bas repeated. “Harrison is weakening. He can’t hold out much longer.”

  Julie stared at Bas for a moment, fear for Harry paralyzing her ability to think. She slowly knelt beside Marguerite and placed a hand against her forehead. Marguerite felt warm, damp and very alive.

  Julie closed her eyes and thought back to one of her lessons with Bas. She visualized herself as sponge. She gasped when the lights in the room actually dimmed as energy soaked through her pores. She’d never even made a light flicker during her lessons. Heat and energy filled her, tingling up her arms. She opened her eyes, and her gaze flew to Bas.

  He smiled. “I told you once you started to use and shape power, it would flow to you more easily.”

  Marguerite twisted under her hand. With a slight tug, Julie knew she could reach in and pull the life force from the woman. She turned toward Luc. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Julie, you can’t do this.” Luc said the words with certainty.

  Of course she could. Demons kill. She was half demon. So why was she hesitating? Years of contact with Ashakarin had probably damaged Marguerite past repair. “It would be a kindness to kill her.” She repeated her first argument.

  “A kindness to kill. A merciful act.” Luc choked out a bitter laugh.

  “That’s me, a regular Mother Teresa.” Murderer to saint in one neat twist of logic. Maybe she could get a job as a political spin doctor after this was all over.

  Her gaze slid to Harry, so still on the floor. Harry, I can do this. I won’t let you die. Her hand started shaking, and she closed her eyes again, not wanting to look at Marguerite while she killed her. She took a deep breath then sniffed more deeply. The faint bite of cinnamon scented the air and calmed some of the fear and anxiety swirling in her brain.

  You always have a choice.

  Her eyes flashed open, searched for Bas. He still bent over Harrison. He hadn’t spoken, had he?

  “Bas.”

  His head swung toward her.

  “I’m sorry. I can’t do it, I can’t kill her.”

  “Good.”

  “Good?” She stared at him for the space of two heartbeats. “What do you mean? We don’t have time for games, Bas.”

  “I don’t play games. Make no mistake Julie. Your choice in this is deadly serious.”

  “Well, now that I’m not going to take Marguerite out, we need to come up with a Plan B.” Harry looked paler, as if all the blood had headed somewhere far away from the organs that needed it. Every passing second, tension wound tighter inside her. She had to act quickly.

  “I think you can bind with Harrison and join power without having sex,” Bascule said.

  Well, why hadn’t he said so sooner? Wait a minute. “Bind together. Is that the blood-mate thing Harrison mentioned?”

  “Yes. I can perform the ceremony that will bind you.”

  Whoa. Harrison definitely didn’t want to bind with her. He’d been crystal clear on that point. Even in the grip of very strong passion, he’d backed away so that it wouldn’t accidentally happen.

  Luc spoke from behind her. “You may give him back his soul, but you’ll take away his reason for existence.”

  Julie shot him a questioning look.

  “The Council won’t allow a demon-bound Balance.”

  Giving him his life would take away his reason for life.

  Great choice. But, then again, no choice. She wouldn’t let Ashakarin have him. Besides, he couldn’t really be mad at her for not letting a demon take over his soul, even if meant he was tied to a half-demon, and he lost his beloved job, right?

  Of course he could.

  “Do it, Bas. Bond us together.”

  Bas took her left hand and before she had time to wince, he sliced a deep cut across her palm by moving his finger above it. He did the same to Harry’s hand. Then he joined them, palm to palm. Julie swallowed hard and curved her fingers through Harry’s, holding him tightly, mixing their blood. She tried to will her life force into him. Please, please, she prayed. Help him. Help me help him.

  Bas cupped his hands around their clasped ones and began chanting in a language she didn’t understand. Latin, maybe. But since the words “veni, vidi, vici” comprised the sum total of her Latin—and they weren’t mentioned in the binding ceremony, thank you, God—she couldn’t be sure.

  “It’s done.” Bas released their hands.

  Julie kept her fingers entwined with Harry’s. “I don’t think it worked. I don’t feel any different. Shouldn’t I feel warm and tingly and connected to Harrison?”

  Bas gently tugged at her hand until she released Harry. He ran a finger over her cut and then Harry’s, closing the skin.

  “Bas,” Julie said urgently. “You need to do it again. The blood bonding didn’t take. I don’t feel Harry. I’m not joined with him. I can’t help him fight.”

  “Julie. Be still. He shields himself against Ashakarin. To break through those defenses will weaken him. You have to ask him to let you in.”

  “He’s unconscious.” She pointed out the obvious.

  “Ask him,” Bas repeated quietly.

  Right. She turned to Harry and put a hand on either side of his face, feeling the rough scrape of whiskers against the palms of her hands. She shut out the sound of Marguerite, still moaning. She shut out Bas and Luc, whose worry sat like a brick on her shoulders.

  “Harry.” She spoke the words in a whisper. “Let me in, love.” She paused, felt nothing. “I know you’re used to fighting alone, but you don’t have to anym
ore. I’m here.”

  Still nothing. She needed to get closer. She gently straddled his waist, one leg on either side of his ribs, and sat on his stomach. “Harry, we’re bonded now. We’re family. Let me help you.”

  A mental door slowly creaked open, and she caught a glimpse of him, felt the edges of the terrible battle raging inside him. How had Harry survived this long?

  A thread of energy Harry couldn’t spare focused on her for a moment. “Go! Ashakarin will have you.”

  “If you let me in, we can stop him together.” She willed him to trust her, to open to her.

  The door began closing much too quickly. She searched desperately for a way to convince him to let her help. “Harry, if we defeat Ashakarin, we can have sex.”

  Maybe he was going to do it anyway. Maybe he didn’t have enough energy left to close his mind to her. Maybe he was a typical guy.

  Whatever the reason, Harry’s mind opened to her in a rush that pushed her flat against his chest. She screamed as energy cascaded through her, overwhelmed her, drowned her.

  She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t think. Then abruptly, the whirlwind stopped and everything stilled. She cautiously opened her eyes.

  Julie thought for a moment that she’d landed in that movie with Robin Williams, the one where he follows his wife through the afterlife to pull her out of Hell. The scenery seemed to shift and blur, and everything was just a shade too intense to be real. A grassy field stretched as far as the eye could see. Peaceful, in a bizarre sort of way that totally freaked her out. She slowly turned a circle, trying to get her bearings, trying to find Harry,

  Suddenly, the pastoral landscape dissolved into a huge Coliseum. Tiers of crowded seats sprouted and rose around her on all sides. The grass beneath her feet flattened and turned into packed sand. The roar of screaming voices filled the air, along with a sense of rising excitement and anticipation. The hair on her bare arms prickled, and she turned, as if tugged by a string, toward her right.

  Harry stood twenty feet from her, bare legs spread in a firm stance, body tense and coiled. She’d never seen him like this—elemental, dangerous, fierce. Stripped of his polish and elegance. Stripped, period. He wore a skimpy loincloth secured only by a few clever tucks of cloth.