by K. F. Breene
“Witches and warlocks seem to be more earth conscious. When one has less power, he or she must reach for any source at their disposal to make up for that which is lacking.”
“I bet you’re a hit with all of them, hmm?” I shook my head. “By the way, many men use the term witch. It’s gender neutral these days, like mage. Something about negative connotations with the term warlock in the Spanish Inquisition days…”
“That doesn’t concern me.”
“Oh yes, a real hit.”
“Not far now.” He motioned in front of us at a wall of trees. I could barely make out a small, rickety wooden fence separating the suddenly wooded area from the swamp. Water closed the wooded area off into an island; the raised path we were on was the only dry way in.
Closer still, I squinted at what looked like a boot at the edge of the trees and the water, off to the right after the path met the island. From the angle it was splayed on the ground, it looked as if it still contained a foot. Problem was, I didn’t see the leg attached.
Darius stuck his hand out in front of me, surveying the same thing. After a moment, he dropped his limb. “I think we will soon find the answer to our latest question.”
My attention stayed on that boot as we drew closer to the end of the raised path. I could barely see where the land bowed strangely—not something you’d see in the Brink. “He’s got one of those sheets on, doesn’t he?”
“She. That is a woman’s boot.”
I rolled my eyes—it looked like a normal combat boot to me. “Don’t tell me you’re a fashionista, too. How do you possibly find the time?”
“It is important to change with the times so as to remain undetected among humans,” Darius said. “I always pay attention to fashions of the day, and patterns of speech. It is how I am still alive after all these years.”
That made sense. Another point to him. So annoying.
Right where the path met the island, still about ten feet from where that boot lay off to the side, a vibration of magic jiggled my bones and stopped me dead. I held up my hand for Darius to stop beside me before taking out my sword.
“Do you feel that?” I asked in a hush.
I raised my palm to face the magic, inviting the currents to run through my blood so I could hear their song. That would lead me back to the nature of the spell, then to the type, and finally to the purpose. That was the goal, anyway. When a powerful mage was behind the wheel, he could disguise his intentions.
I bent to feel the area near my feet. The magic thinned down near the ground, not forming a root as it should have. “Our mage either got lazy, or isn’t as experienced as his power level suggests. This wouldn’t trap someone, though. This blockade was placed independently from whatever has that boot. Though the distance alone should’ve told you that.”
Slowly, with a steady hand, I slid my palm along the ground. Razor-sharp pain sliced into my skin, the edges of a nasty spell catching the top of my hand. I sucked in a breath and gritted my teeth, waiting to see if the spell manifested into magical knives or some other horrible thing. When it didn’t, I continued pushing my hand forward until the pain moved up toward my wrist. I held it, wondering if this would evolve into a physical reaction of some kind. Still nothing. Just a barrier.
“Three inches thick, or so.” I pulled my hand back slowly. “The edge of it, which is frayed because the spell wasn’t properly rooted, hurts like the devil. That seems to be about it. I can’t tell if it’s a tripwire of some kind. Not yet, anyway.”
I eyed the path, and then the water off to either side. The memory of that gaping mouth with the sharp rows of teeth flitted through my mind. Those serpents were onto me—at least the one was—and they knew I liked to hang out over the water. I had to make this quick.
“I need to reach right, Darius. Help.”
He knew the drill, and quickly realized he’d have to be a more active participant this time.
I leaned over the side, feeling his strength holding my weight. “Pull me in,” I said, watching the water. I leaned over the left side of the path as well, feeling how far that spell went. “Okay, lift me up.”
His long fingers curved around my ribcage and glanced off my breasts.
“Dude,” I said, shaking him off as soon as I could. “Not cool.”
He didn’t comment, clearly only concerned about my analysis and not my personal boundaries.
I scowled in thought, remembering the bite of the spell. The gap at the bottom. “This was done by a powerful mage who has good control over his magic, but lacks experience. A younger person, maybe, or someone without the proper training early on. The feel of the currents suggests a darker sort of magic—the type that gains energy from sacrificing, calling on demons, that sort of thing. Not all of those things are bad, mind you. Some religions exist peacefully while using those practices, but I’d bet this guy is after personal gain. This spell…is not peaceful. I came across another mage whose magic felt like this just a day or two ago, depending on how long I’ve been in this place. Could be coincidence, but given your problem and my involvement, I’d bet not.”
“Who is this other mage? We should speak with him.”
“Oh. Uhm.” I drew the sound out. “I accidentally killed him, actually. That was my bad.”
“How can you be sure this mage is male?”
I shrugged. “I’m not. I just deal with guys a lot in my trade. When they go crazy, they really let that freak flag fly. The mage I accidentally killed is proof of that.” I blew out a breath and stepped back, looking to the side, around the barrier spell, at the boot. “The spell over there is keeping the vampire from melting away like you all normally do when you die. Of course, she could just be asleep, but it’s obvious she’s intended to act as bait.”
“Bait?”
“Yeah. I mean, she’s clearly on display. We saw her from a ways out—any vampire would’ve. So you’d hurry to check on her, not notice the clear barrier spell before smacking into it, and whammy, bad day.”
“Given that the other sentinels are nowhere to be found, it’s doubtful one was left alive. This mage wouldn’t want to leave behind a live witness.”
There was that, yeah.
“Up until now, someone has been getting in and out without making their presence known,” he continued. “But now, sentinels are missing and a wall of magic has been thrown up to block our entrance. Our enemy is stepping up his game.”
I held up my hand, something I did when I needed to think and people were talking to me. “With this much power, he could’ve used a boat those other times and easily disguised it. That’s the most logical explanation for how he got in. These new developments of hiding his tracks, possibly killing sentinels, and creating a barrier could mean that he’s in a hurry. Like maybe he’s trying to head us off and had to navigate on foot. Maybe also that he is watching us, seeing how we deal with all this. He could even be trying to ambush us to prevent us from finding anything. There’s no way to know yet.”
“Watching us doesn’t fit.”
“Not really, no. Do a lot of vampires know you were going to investigate this?”
“This specifically? No. What lies in this place is not common knowledge, even to vampires. We choose carefully who guards this paddock, and the vampires are all at least upper-middle level. However, Vlad’s involvement and my role in the investigation will signify something big is going on.”
“And our mark will see the writing on the wall.”
“Easily.”
“Okay. So you’ve got some loose-lipped vampires tipping off our mark. While you were playing dodge death with me, he was running ahead and blocking our way into this place. And he did a good job. I’m not sure who you would’ve gotten to break through this.”
“That I trust? No one.”
“Aw. Doesn’t that just make me feel all warm and cozy inside.” He opened his mouth, and I held up a finger to stop him. “Yes, I know, you’re only using me because I’m expendable, and you can�
��t afford to kill your precious, expensive mages. Relax. I know the score.”
I bet he didn’t know the score, though. I wasn’t nearly as easy to kill as he probably thought. Especially when I knew the hammer was about to drop.
“Hacks,” I said, back to thinking about the problem in front of me. “They’re probably charging you an arm and a leg for their bulk ordering and the marks on their casings. I bet you showed them the golden chair and they immediately thought sucker.”
“Are you finished?”
“Stalling? Not really.” I blew out a breath and stared at the waters. “No way to get in by going around. That serpent will attack, I have no doubt.”
“One jumped up for me when I retrieved the other casing. I wouldn’t be surprised if the carcasses of the other sentinels were dangled over the water for the serpents to dispose of. When you dangled yourself over, the creatures probably thought it was feeding time again.”
I grimaced. “I am not having warm thoughts about this mage we are dealing with.” I looked at the spell and motioned him forward. “Do me a favor. Bend down and slide your hand along the ground. Slowly.”
Those honeyed peepers were trained on me for a long moment before he bent and did as instructed.
I guessed he did trust me a little.
The top of his hand started to sizzle, then peel. Webs of black lines flowed over his skin. The muscles in his arm started to tremble and his hand shook, but he didn’t make any other sign that it hurt, nor did he withdraw.
“Holy crap, man, take your hand away!” I yanked at his sleeve.
He shook his hand out and watched as his skin regenerated. Wide-eyed, I stared back at the empty space, which hosted a much nastier spell than I’d realized.
“They aren’t heading me off—they are heading you off. You’ll want to watch your step more than usual.” I pushed power into my blade.
Darius stood slowly, his face the terrifying mask of a predator. “They should hope to catch me.”
“They hope to kill you, it looks like. But whatever. Okay. How do you want to do this? I can most likely cut this spell down, but that will let them know you have powerful help. Right now, they are just planning for you. I’m a wild card, and spells like this, while they hurt, don’t affect me as strongly. That helps us now, but if they figure out my deal, they’ll tailor their attacks a little better. That would definitely hinder us down the road.
“The alternative is sneaking under this thing with a little know-how from me. Call it magic cat-burgling. They’ll never know.”
His eyes trained on my face for a few beats too long. “Sometimes, you seem so naive, almost useless, in your approach. Other times, like now, you are truly eye-opening, Reagan Somerset. It’s like beholding a goddess. I almost can’t believe you’ve touched down in the world of mortals.”
Heat crawled through my cheeks, and I blinked way too much. I did not see that coming.
“Right,” I said, unsure how to reply because, despite the really sweet part of that comment, half of it was a bitch slap. “Awesome.” I cleared my throat. “So anyway, about the spell…”
“Cut it down and then I will set a spell. How they take down my spell will tell me a great deal regarding their magical style.”
Excitement ran through me. I’d used spells conjured by others, and been attacked more times than I could count, but I’d never seen someone meticulously formulate an info trap out of purchased magic, like I knew Darius would.
“What type of counter-spell will you be working?” he asked.
“Oh. Uh…” I drew out the sound, half looking down at my pouch. The more powerful the spell, the harder it was to break. Getting the correct opposing magic just right, usually in the form of a counter-spell, could make the difference between a dead spell, or a dead spell breaker.
Of course, my magic didn’t work like that. It just ate through spells. I was the world’s master key to all the magical locks within a mighty large power spectrum. Mine was a very specific skill set that I could not advertise.
When I worked alone, I didn’t have to bluff.
I really missed working alone.
“I’m just going to…” I took out a casing and pretended to break it against my blade while moving to shield my movements. “I have this spell here which should subdue the volatile magic…” My voice drifted away into mumbles.
He leaned forward to ask another question, but before he could get it out, I steadied myself and struck, aiming to tear through the thick, gooey magic as fast as possible. My blade sliced in and slowed. The working was much more intricate and intense than it had appeared. The mage had disguised the real meat of the thing, which was now sucking the power from my sword. Once depleted, the spell would attach to me like a leech, stealing my life with each beat of my heart.
Hell’s doorbell. This was very tricky spell working.
Straining with effort, sweat beading on my forehead, I pushed more power into my sword. It slogged through, fighting. Losing. Only halfway to the ground, its power was almost depleted.
Tapping into my life force, where I could store magic like a battery, I pumped more into the sword. My sword turned an angry shade of red, and black tendrils ran through the wall, crystallizing it.
My arms were quivering, but my shining blade was once again making progress. Breathing hard, knowing the spell needed direct contact with my magic—not through the sword—I summoned a tiny bit of fire. It flicked along the bottom of my blade, hopefully not noticeable to the nosy parker looking over my shoulder, and seeped into the spell. The fabric of the spell tore, little by little at first, then faster as I bled in more fire. My toes tingled and spikes of pain jabbed my eyes and temples. My power was almost out.
“Blood would be good about now,” I said through a clenched jaw, squeezing my eyes shut against the pain and putting everything I had into the sword, cleaning out the corners of my body and wringing myself dry.
“My blood can help revive you, not lend power,” Darius said, his face suddenly close but his voice so far away.
“Almost.” The word fell from my lips, vague and wispy. I should’ve risked using more of my direct power in front of Darius. The decision to protect my secret might’ve been my undoing. “Almost.” The last of the power gushed from my blade. The spell unraveled in a whoosh. Metal snapped. I saw black.
Chapter Nine
“That’s better. Yes, drink,” a deep, sexy voice urged me. A strong arm held me tightly against a rock-hard body. “Drink.”
The sweetest elixir I’d ever tasted dripped past my lips and exploded on my tongue. I couldn’t even describe the flavor, only that it was the best thing I’d ever had the pleasure of tasting in my entire life. Joy and adrenaline surged through my core, blossomed in my middle, and blasted into all the dark, depleted magical wells inside my skin. My life’s force filled up and overflowed, a feeling that made me want to laugh manically. Even my skin felt healthier. My head fuller. My nails stronger.
The dripping stopped and I groped wildly for more, finding a smooth face and latching my palms on to the cheeks. I claimed the full, warm lips, which quickly moved against mine. Passion rose up between us. A moan welled in my throat. But as good as it felt, the taste of that delicious, lifesaving decadence was missing.
I pushed away. Sunlight danced in my eyes, but I didn’t have to squint. The most beautiful man, with gorgeous honey eyes, gazed down at me. His muscular arms held me on his lap as we sat in the middle of a bright green meadow. Wildflowers danced and played in the soft breeze, their movements like laughter. His hard, pulsing heat pushed against my butt.
Ten feet from where we huddled together, two bodies entwined as one, stood a cream-colored, regal animal. Light glowed from around it, and rainbows flickered when it moved.
“No fucking way.” I blinked a million times it seemed like, laughing, or maybe crying, from joy as I beheld the most glorious animal that had ever walked the Brink or the Realm. “Am I tripping on acid?”
&nb
sp; “In a way.”
Oh man, that voice was sexy. Perfectly tuned for my listening pleasure.
Speaking of pleasure…
I leaned my head back as kisses trailed down my neck, making me shiver. When Darius sucked in the sensitive skin on my neck, I twisted so I could wrap my legs around his middle. His hardness was now right where I needed it. If it weren’t for these danged clothes, he could enter me. Over and over.
“Taste me,” I groaned as a fang trailed along my artery. “Take me, Darius.”
His fingers snaked through my hair and he made a fist, clutching tightly. His other hand hardened at the base of my neck, trapping me in his hold. A surge of desperation overcame me—a need so strong that I was panting with desire.
“Yes,” I cried, gyrating against him. “Yes. Harder.”
He shook me a little, proving his dominance. Ready to claim what was his. In contrast, his lips glided softly across my fevered skin, leaving a trail of scorching wetness.
This seemed so right in the presence of that great animal. Mating. Bonding. Celebrating life.
What the hell?
Shock, fear, and—most importantly—reality bitch-slapped me.
Have I gone fucking crazy?
I tried to struggle away, but Darius wouldn’t release his hold. The dull, delicious ache of fangs pressed on my skin, ready to puncture. “Don’t you fucking dare, Darius!”
I slapped my hands to the sides of his face and dug my thumbs into his eyes. His grip loosened. He flinched away. I used the space to my advantage by hooking my arms under his and ripping them upward, flinging his hands off. I hopped up and wobbled across the meadow, patting my body to make sure my weapons were in place. Once I was far enough away, I turned back and prepared to physically fight the man while I mentally fought his effect on me.
Darius rose slowly, the bulge in his pants prominent and a little smile tickling his lips. “My, my. What layers you have, my lovely Reagan. So much passion. So much fire. Come. Let me taste you.”