by Anne Zoelle
Constantine pulled a hand over the material that Delia had given him to cover his cuff. “The magic will absorb your intent and form a contract.” His lips tightened. “Depending on what the founders set the magic to do, we will be at its mercy. We will break the contract after finding Price. We will need to in order to fight and escape. Our exit won't work with it in place.”
I nodded slowly. I was still hoping that we could get out of this with Olivia, Marsgrove, and zero bloodshed. “Maybe we shouldn't be thinking about how we are going to subvert the Justice Magic before it scans us and binds us to it, though?”
Constantine took my face in his hands and pressed his fingertips to my temples.
A moment later, I blinked at him. “You just took a thought from me.” I couldn't remember what it was; just that we'd been speaking of whatever it was moments ago.
“I temporarily subverted it. You'll regain it in five minutes' time.”
He closed his eyes, and a moment later his gaze was glassy as well. “Let's go.”
I pointed at the dome. “Do we just walk through?” A weird sense of Deja Vu gripped me.
“Yes,” he said. “We are only here to reunite you with your lost loved one. Keep that firmly in mind. You'll...need to pull me through with you. Once inside, you can use magic sparingly—the dome will process it without backlash. But our presence will be noted—two additional ticks in the population ledger—and we don't know who might be watching for it. We have the cloaks, but we need to be quick.”
No pressure.
Shadows stretched along the walls of the dome, making me eye the landscape around us. Somewhere, Kaine lay in wait.
Never one to delay, I thrust my left hand forward.
Touching the dome was like touching a liquid just viscous enough not to attach to my palm. Trusting Constantine's words, I projected calm, peaceful thoughts—I wanted to be reunited with Olivia, it was what I desired—and pushed the feelings out through my fingers. My hand sunk through, magic parting around my fingers, allowing me to pass as if through a waterfall of beads. I gripped Constantine's hand tightly in my other hand and pulled him through behind me.
No alarms sounded. But a gripping tension took hold of my body—a slowing of sound and movement.
The streets of Corpus Sun were desolate and lifeless. They were so dusty and empty, I expected a tumbleweed and crooked sheriff to greet us at any moment.
A neighborhood of Tudor and Colonial houses elevated the dusty and dreary atmosphere slightly. Small gardens were brown and wild. At one time, this must have been a beautiful place.
There was still a sort of wild beauty. A sense of survival permeated the air. We have seen worse and we are still here, the wind of the town seemed to whisper.
But the shadowy presence grew larger in my mind, and I tugged Constantine closer.
Mentally following the connection at my chest that had abruptly strengthened, I sent slim tendrils of magic to look for corresponding connections.
Points popped up in my mind, spreading a sensory grid through the town, pinpointing areas where Olivia might have been. There was a vague sense of darkness surrounding all of them, but she'd walked that path there, then turned that corner, and—
A vibrant rose glow pulsed to life from a point a few streets over, connecting to my magic so suddenly that I stumbled. Tart strawberry and sweetened wine.
Constantine neatly caught my stumble and tugged me into a spot behind a fence.
“What is it?”
“She's there,” I whispered, pointing.
“In the building that looks like the Grim Reaper's summer home?”
“Yes,” I said, looking at the half-Gothic, half-broken building that towered above everything else.
Used to a lot of decrepit buildings in the Midlands, there was still something especially concerning about this one. “Let's go.”
Constantine held me back, gaze fiercely serious all of a sudden. He slipped something circular into my armband, under my cloak. “That is your exit, if I don't...”
If I don't survive.
“All of us are getting out of here. We will be making it out of here together,” I vowed.
“Ren...” His eyes were distant.
I squeezed his hand. “You think you will die and take Raphael with you. And I'm telling you that is not going to happen.”
A small smile slipped over his lips. “I suppose your wish is my command?”
“The only differences between the evil witch and the fairy godmother are the decisions they make and the actions they take,” I said pointedly. “They can both be clever.”
He let out a low laugh. “My wardrobe is already fixed, though.”
I cast a look around the corner in both directions down the street. We were still alone in an abandoned town. “You, of anyone, can figure out how to carry off white and pink in style.”
He smiled and we slipped back out onto the street.
Our cloaks were well-suited to magical camouflage as we edged around buildings and darted between alleys, and I had practiced maneuvers like this plenty of times in the Midlands where there were always man-eating beasts to avoid.
But as we continued on without encountering anyone, our stealth was more for our own satisfaction than anything else.
The best thing that could be said about Raphael was that he worked alone. Godfrey had mentioned that both he and Raphael had superiors—but Raphael seemed a free agent, more than anything else.
A vicious pet that the terrorists let have its way.
The target building was as eerie on the inside as it was on the out. It reminded me of the upper level of Okai in that way—creepy, like there was something specifically scary about the building that I hadn't yet put my finger upon.
Constantine paused in the middle of a huge, empty atrium decorated with columns at the edges and composed entirely of what looked like marble and sorrow. He cocked his head at me in question. I put up four fingers then mimicked climbing stairs with them. Olivia was four floors up.
So was Raphael.
Constantine dropped to one knee on the black marble floor.
“What are you doing?” I whispered, darting sharp glances around the large open hall. “We need to go.”
The gold that emanated from my skin when I focused my sight had started pulsing. Raphael was doing active magic four floors above us.
“Fulfilling a bargain.” Constantine's lips curled unpleasantly, as he sketched out a rune, then carefully placed a single emerald on top of the design.
“If you are calling a demon here, so help me—”
He looked up at me with surprise. “How did you know?”
A very fake look of surprise. This close to his goal, the feelings in him were bordering on manic.
Not good. Not any of it.
He rose and in one fluid move stepped forward into my space. “Do you trust me to be your fairy godmother?”
His eyes were direct and fierce, his gaze slightly unhinged. There was something balanced precariously there, despite the joking we'd been doing in order to keep our anxiety under control.
I thought of the betrayal that everyone was positive Constantine was going to enact. Then I thought of what I knew and felt. I grabbed his wrist. His pulse point was beating wildly beneath my fingers. “Yes.”
He pulled his free hand down a lock of my hair, smiling at it as he captured it in his fingers, then released it, leaned down to the floor and touched the top of the gem, activating whatever it was. “Let's go.”
At the top of the stairs, we secured our cloaks more tightly before rounding the last corner.
Raphael stood alone in a large, broken solarium at the end of the decrepit hall. Constantine's focus sharpened. By silent agreement, we split to each side of the hallway.
I couldn't count on Constantine not to attack him, but if we could slip past...
We were almost level with Raphael's position, one to each side of him in the large room, when he smiled.
&nbs
p; “You came, Butterfly.” His smile was almost real in his golden face as he looked directly at me, through all the concealing spells we'd laboriously threaded into the cloak. “I knew you would.”
Chapter Forty-five: Golden Storm
He was staring right into my eyes.
“You are wearing something truly exquisite, Butterfly. But you can't hide from me. Not this way. Your magic, your presence is too rich. I've been saturated by it before.” He smiled. “I know you are there.”
I pushed the hood from my head. There was no reason to hide anymore.
Over Raphael's shoulder, I could see Constantine grit his teeth, deeply displeased at my action. Even with my hood off and his still on, the cloaks were still linked together, allowing me to see him. He stayed back, silent and hidden.
“I'm here. Under your deadline,” I said to Raphael.
He motioned to the door at my right. His movements were a little strange—almost wooden. I was used to slinking grace from him. “She's just where you were heading, and as alive as she was when you saw her last. Take her and go.”
I frowned and shifted. “That's it? No tricks?”
He looked at me innocently as he raised his palm. “Tricks?”
Constantine was already in motion, striding up behind him, magic glowing in his hand. The shadows shifted, and for a moment I saw the old Raphael—the one from his classmates' memories—as unshaded light hit his face. I mourned for that boy as Constantine's hand rose.
But Constantine's hand never fell.
Constantine made an abrupt quarter turn, defensive instincts reacting lightning fast, and thrust his hand into the massive shadow that appeared from nowhere.
Right into Kaine's chest.
Kaine shrieked, but whatever offensive magic Constantine had conjured had been for direct use against Raphael, not Kaine, and dark pleasure fell over the praetorian’s expression as his form seemed to sharpen and a shadowed hand thrust Constantine's hood back, exposing him.
I threw magic at Kaine, but a force slammed into my chest and I was slammed against the wall. Breath knocked from me, I blinked through blurry eyes to see Tarei standing over me, smirking maliciously. Among other things, he'd re-fractured the rib I had fixed on the ride over.
I saw a phantom spring up and envelop Raphael. Then there were three, then nine of them. Praetorians appeared out of nearly thin air. They gripped Raphael, trying to force something around his neck.
“Come precious boy,” a voice cooed as Stavros' face spiraled into view on one of them, then appeared on another body when Raphael whipped a blade through the first. “Time to return.”
Behind them, black shade dripped from Kaine as his razor-sharp shadow fingers pierced Constantine's chest. Blood arced everywhere.
Blood bubbled up from Constantine's mouth as he smiled. “But at least you won't be able to have her.” He ripped something from his belt and slammed it into Kaine's throat.
Kaine's hands wrapped around his own throat and he gurgled, then burst into a thousand shadows that dropped to the floor in writhing, black curlicues.
The individual parts immediately started pulling together—Kaine regenerating quickly at Constantine's feet. Tarei, gaze still focused on me, drew back his hand.
I released the magic from an entire container directly into Tarei's chest, and thrust my free hand into my pocket and pulled. A boom exploded from the area where the praetorians held Raphael, but I couldn't afford the distraction to look. The vine leaped free of my hand as soon as it hit the air, dove at Kaine's fragmented shadows, and devoured them as they were reconnecting on the floor.
Tarei hit the floor from my blast in the midst of Kaine's pieces, and the vine leaped on Tarei, devouring him too.
My breath came in pants as I looked frantically around the space. Raphael and the other praetorians were nowhere to be seen. I would have thought them figments of the imagination, if not for the debris littering the space where they'd stood. The whole series of events after Raphael's last spoken word had taken about fifteen seconds.
Crimson lips parted, Constantine stared at the spot where Kaine and Tarei had been. The fattened vine lay on the ground, absently grooming itself with engorged lethargy. “That was morbid, darling.”
“I don't think they are dead,” I said shakily as I rose.
Alarm peels were ringing in the air outside and lights were flashing through the broken windows. A persistent pain in my right leg was growing, trying to hobble me. The Justice Magic had definitely registered our fight.
“Not dead, though being digested alive seems quite dire.”
Constantine coughed up blood, a red mist spewing from his lips. I shoved one hand against his cheek and pushed a tiny lotus flower on his tongue. This one had been made with the help of Greyskull, specifically with Kaine's magic in mind.
“You aren't going to die for me,” I said fiercely, shaking him a little, using up half a container of magic to heal everything in him faster.
His smile was red. “Don't worry so, darling. I'm far too pretty to die.” He swallowed, then shuddered as the concentrated magic immediately went to work. “Paper, Ren, really?”
I shoved him back a step, relief making me angry. “You can help concoct something better when we get home. Don't die. And, watch the vine.”
Not knowing how long we had or what might happen next, I wasted no time in pushing open the door where Olivia's life force pulsed.
Like the rest of the Spartan, creepy building, this room was devoid of furniture.
But not of people.
I stumbled on my pain-magicked leg, almost unable to believe.
“Liv.”
Olivia was trussed up in one corner, Marsgrove in another. Her eyes were closed, and spells laced patterns over her.
But I could see the rise and fall of her chest. Alive.
I wanted to grab her, but caution prevailed. It would be a mistake to touch her yet. The spells were all linked to a small box a few feet away from her. I fell to my knees in front of the box, and as soon as I neared it, it was like a switch flipped and she jolted upright. Upon seeing me, her eyes went wide.
“Liv,” I repeated.
She didn't respond verbally, but she was frantically tracking my movements with her eyes, and she glanced pointedly at the lock.
The lock had an embellished design, and inside the box I was sure I'd find the spell's initiation point. A lock made by Raphael. I plucked two hairs from my head and pulled magic into my fingertips—magic supplied by my shield and the spells Raphael had placed upon me long ago. I coated the plucked hairs with the magic in order to use the hairs as a focal point and a key shield—the last one quite literally.
Kneeling, I pulled out my lock picks—the magical ones I had gotten after being locked up by Marsgrove—and wrapped a single hair around my favorite pick and best wrench. My gaze flitted to Marsgrove in the corner. He was watching silently as well, but with something infinitely strange in his gaze.
He was personally getting to witness how I'd escaped from him.
Constantine cast a glance over all of us, but didn't move to help. He braced himself painfully against the doorway, keeping watch.
I got one spell free and Olivia's voice escaped. “Ren.”
She looked at me as if I was an apparition, face drained of color and shock painted across her features. “It was really... You really...”
“Of course.” Automatically reacting to her distress, I tried to pick the other spells free faster, fingers slipping. “Did you think you were talking to a figment?” I asked lightly—my voice only shaking a little despite my crushing relief mixing into a terrible cocktail of terror, panic, and liberation.
“What are you doing here? You can't be here,” she hissed. “You need to be at Excelsine.”
“We. We need to be at Excelsine.”
“Who let you out?” She demanded in a way that sounded like a death threat. Warmth and further relief rushed through me.
“Psh. Like anyone l
et me.”
I finally got the lock free and the box clicked open. I pressed the button inside, and the shield fell. It was almost too simple.
She looked at the box and the origination of the spell. Then she looked at me. I shifted on my knees, unable to read her for a moment.
She launched herself at me.
“You idiot,” Olivia said, as she sobbed into my neck, holding me tighter. “You absolute moron.”
I hugged her tighter, burying my face in her hair. “I missed you too.”
She sobbed.
“Red Colonel?” came a familiar voice through the emergency line.
“I've got the package,” I said, face in her hair. I had her. I had saved her. I had failed with Christian. But I had saved Olivia. “And we will initiate the return sequence in five.”
Kaine and Tarei were temporarily contained, and as far as I was concerned, we could leave them. Raphael and the rest of the praetorians were...gone. I had no idea where they were. And, we were in a ghost town, because, thankfully, Raphael worked alone. Things were looking up.
“Intercepted Legion communications. Troops moving your way. Three minutes. Hurry.”
Or maybe not.
“We have to go,” I said, manhandling Olivia to her feet as I painfully rose. The Justice Magic was trying to work its way through my second leg. I hobbled over to Marsgrove and made quick work of his bonds. His were a lot less complicated than hers, oddly. Maybe Raphael had thought I wouldn't save him?
Marsgrove was up and out the door almost before I got the last spell free.
Olivia, however, was unmoving, looking out the broken window at the Legion pounding down the hill and toward the dome.
Three minutes? We had forty seconds. I pushed her into motion. “We have to go.”
Her skin was the color of chalk.
“I can't leave.” The skin around Olivia's eyes tightened in pain. “I can't.”
“What? No. Did you develop some magic psychosis?” I demanded, physically hauling her taller frame toward the door, shooting pains in my legs be damned. When she stuttered to a stop, I put my arm through hers and dragged her.
“You don't understand, Ren, there are things implan—”