Lychos

by Larsen, Patti

  “I don’t know,” Piers says as we come around the final turn and reach the bottom. “She disappeared before you were taken.”

  I stop him, hug him hard one last time. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” He clears his throat. “We have to go.”

  I nod as I pull away, wiping at my nose and wet cheeks. More tears. I didn’t think I had the moisture to spare. “Can’t we just take one of your tunnels out?”

  Piers shakes his head, arm around me as he guides me down a wider hall, decorated this time, with a heavy medieval influence. Definitely a castle of some kind. I drift past a suit of armor as he whispers.

  “Rupe has this whole place blocked with sorcery,” my friend says. “I can’t cut through it. We have to make it outside his shielding.”

  “He’s controlling my magic.” I almost choke on those words. “Can you free me?”

  I feel his power crawl over me, my wolf shuddering at his touch.

  “Not until we’re outside,” he says, pausing at the top of another, grand set of stairs. The place feels silent to me, as though no one lives here, but the lights are on and it feels well maintained. “It should be safe, the others are creating a diversion. Let’s go.”

  I follow him, not asking who he means, can only guess it’s the usual suspects. And that guess is confirmed as a dark-haired woman hurries from a side corridor and up the stairs toward us, her blue eyes locked on me. I almost fall into Ethpeal’s arms as she races to greet me and flings her arms around me, holding me so tight it’s hard to breathe. Who needs breath when I have her there?

  “Piers.” She releases me long enough to snap orders. “Go help Demetrius and Miriam. I’ll take Charlotte the rest of the way out.”

  He hesitates, but she smacks his arm and he nods with a grin, rubbing the offended spot.

  “Yes, ma’am,” he says, hurrying away, though he looks back as he reaches the bottom step, just before disappearing down the same corridor from which she appeared. Ethpeal spins me toward her, face grim and angry.

  “The Steam Union is coming,” she says, guiding me down at last. “And I want that boy to have lots of room to run from his mother if she decides to try to arrest him.”

  Poor Piers. I understand his reasoning for leaving the Steam Union. I’m not a huge fan of Eva Southway myself. But I fear he did it for me, the wrong reason to abandon his people.

  “Don’t you worry about him,” Ethpeal says as we reach the bottom floor. I glance sideways, realizing the castle isn’t empty after all. A crumpled collection of bodies lie on the marble floor, one of them with short, dark hair and another with long, the Dumont brothers unconscious.

  Or dead. I can hope for dead.

  “We can hope Eva will be too occupied with Rupe to worry about her son,” Ethpeal says, hurrying me forward, not to the same hall Piers ran down, but the opposite way. My stomach heaves as she stops me at a cart and forces a bottle of water into my hands. “Drink as much as you can. But hurry.”

  I gulp the cool water, emptying the bottle in less than thirty seconds. My insides cramp, protesting the onslaught of precious liquid, but my wolf works her magic, and I’m eagerly reaching for another from Ethpeal’s strong hands a moment later. I take the third with me, making short work of my second banana, craving meat but not having time to be choosy.

  Ethpeal doesn’t flinch when a pair of young men emerge at a run from the corridor up ahead. A giant wall of black hits them like a train engine, bowling them over. She swears softly, too quiet for me to make out the words with my heart pounding in my ears at the forced exercise, but I’ve heard her repertoire and can guess she’s using her favorites.

  “Piers says your sorcery is blocked,” I say.

  “From making an escape route, yes,” she says. “But I can still pack a punch. In here.” She shoves me through a doorway, using her shoulder to push open the heavy door before slamming it shut behind her. I follow, feeling better for the water and bit of food, to a glass door at the far end, leading out into a lush garden. The outside air is a balm on my soul, deep breaths of it filling me with the scents of roses and other flowers, dirt and clean, open sky.

  Something rumbles off in the distance, on the other side of the house. Ethpeal pushes me down the stone path through the garden and into the open lawn on the other side. I look back at the squat castle, up at the tower that was my prison, even as a black sheet of flame engulfs the property. I stumble and fall on my hands and knees in the fragrant grass as Ethpeal tumbles to the ground beside me, the rolling pressure of the assault a physical blow.

  “I guess Eva made it,” Syd’s grandmother grins at me. “As much as I admire her gumption, I’m happy to miss the crap hitting the fan.” She stands, offers me her hand. I take it, hoisting myself up, only to find myself in her arms again.

  “We really have to go,” she whispers in my ear.

  “I know,” I say. “Ethpeal, thank you.” Now I can cry, I have the water in me to do it.

  She pushes me away, roughly swiping at her own cheeks. “Silly girl,” she says. “You are family.” Her eyes widen, gaze over my shoulder, power gathering even as I turn and realize we’re not alone.

  Andre, his resurrected sons behind him, run from the edge of the garden, looking back over their shoulders as they flee.

  ***

  Chapter Twenty

  They are no match for Ethpeal’s sorcery, but it’s not her I’m worried about. I raise one hand to stop her as she gestures, a sheet of black flame twisting outward from her feet as the trio of Dumonts come to a skidding halt on the slick grass.

  “They belong to me.” I don’t meet her eyes, don’t need to. I can feel her power retreating, surrounding me even as Andre pales, damaged face mottled with crusted pus, eyes bulging at the sight of me. He knows he’s in trouble as Ethpeal’s power dives inside me and breaks the hold Rupe’s magic has over my soul. I feel myself freed even as I throw my essence into the wolf, leaping at Andre’s throat.

  Jean Marc tries to block me with magic, a hoarse shout following a ball of witch fire he hurtles at my head. But I snap at it as my power blazes, devouring the energy and channeling it inside me. Kristophe flees, screaming like a girl, and I let him go even as my front paws impact Andre’s chest, carrying him to the ground.

  I ignore Jean Marc, feeling Ethpeal’s sorcery behind me, knowing she will keep him occupied, though I hope she doesn’t kill him just yet. I’ll track down the younger of the Dumont brothers when I have leisure. Right now, everything I want is right here, under the full weight of my wolf body, staring at me with absolute terror.

  His magic is as powerful as ever, but I’m in the full throes of my perfect shape and driven by the need to hurt him. Perhaps the sorcerer who guards me offers her aid as well, but I don’t notice if that’s the case, or care. Blue eyes bulge at me, the infection in his face oozing out in a bubbling mix of blood and pale green jelly from the broken crust over the slices on his face. The bite on his other cheek has been uncovered, bandage gone, bright red around my teeth marks.

  He smells ill, dirty, as though the very core of him as become infected. I sneeze in his face, spraying him with wolfy snot and saliva, barking a satisfied laugh at his horrified expression.

  Andre. I send the thought directly into his mind. Hello, Andre.

  He struggles under me, but I push harder with my magic, containing him.

  How are you feeling? I sniff deeply. The damage I’ve done, the infection I scent, it’s all through him now. Not the same as a werewolf’s bite does to a human, but deeper, fed by my hate and magic, spreading illness throughout him. I’ve done him far more hurt than I originally intended and it makes me happy. He’s suffering, his power reduced by the injury. While his coven sustains him, I can feel the rot inside and know it’s only a matter of time before he dies in agony and madness.

  I could kill him here and now, end his pathetic life. But the thought of him withering away, unable to stop the degradation happening to him, app
eals to me at a most basic, child-like level. The girl I was giggles her wicked glee as I back away from him and allow myself to transform to human, standing naked over him, the coat Piers gave me discarded on the grass behind me.

  “Have a nice what’s left of your life, Andre,” I say, waving him off. Ethpeal comes to my side, frowning, but doesn’t argue when Jean Marc makes a lunge for his father and drags him to his feet. The pair stagger off into the darkness as Syd’s grandmother hands me the longcoat. I slip inside it, shivering in the night, but with pleasure.

  I will find Andre in his last days and sit at his bedside and watch him die slowly.

  Such sweet vengeance.

  As I turn to Ethpeal, I feel the sudden pressure of sorcery, but not hers. She shakes her head at me as I cinch the belt of the coat tight and turn to find Eva Southway striding across the grass toward me. Piers’s handsome mother looks pissed, her close-cropped blonde hair spiked up as though as angry as she is. I hold my ground, glaring back at her, noting Piers’s presence behind her as she comes to a sudden halt only a few feet away, a small group of her people surrounding her.

  “Charlotte Girard,” she says, crisp and angry.

  “Leader Southway.” I don’t bow my head and she’s lucky I used the honorific considering the time I’ve had. She’s done everything in her power—including turning against her own son—to capture Sage and I and I can’t help but hold the pursuit against her.

  “Where is the revenant?” She looks past me at Ethpeal, frown deepening. “I should have known you’d be here.”

  Demetrius pops his head around Eva’s shoulder and waves at me with a sweet smile. I grin and wave back.

  The Steam Union leader glares over her shoulder before sighing. “Well?”

  I shrug, dull anger replacing everything. “I don’t know,” I say. “He’s gone.”

  One of her fists thumps against her thigh as her tall, lean body snaps around to face Piers. “If you’re hiding the fugitive—”

  “Give it a rest, Mum,” he says, leaving her side to stand with me. Eva watches with narrowed eyes as Demetrius, with a wink and a grin, cross the grass to join me. “I don’t answer to you any longer, remember?”

  “You’re a rogue in my territory,” Eva snaps. “Is that how you want this to play out?”

  Piers’s anger shows at last as he shakes his head at her, long fingers jabbing the air between them. “You’re missing the most important point,” he says, voice bubbling with temper. “There’s another rogue you’ve let run rampant and he’s the reason we’re having this damned conversation in the first place.”

  Eva’s jaw jumps but she nods once, sharp as a knife cut. “We’re tracking him,” she says, a hint of petulance in her voice. I know the Steam Union has suffered in the past, small and weak in number, unable to act though the need was there. But Eva isn’t doing her people any favors by holding back now. Or by playing by old rules.

  I should talk. I’ve only learned that lesson myself. Seems we all have a ways to go.

  “Where is Syd?” I was sure she would be here and it hurts she’s not.

  “I have no idea,” Eva says, anger returning. And resentment hovers in her now. Bitterness. Well, if she’s not going to act, someone has to. And Syd has never been one to stand by and let the bad guys get away.

  “Maybe you should be chasing the real criminals,” I say. “Instead of standing here, berating your son and treating me like a criminal.”

  “I won’t let the revenant get away.” Eva’s voice practically vibrates with passion. And I understand, then, why she is so eager to catch Sage. I can smell it in her fear, feel it in the waves of anxiety she carries around with her.

  “Your people didn’t make him.” I take a step toward her, hand outstretched. “He’s not your responsibility. And no one blames you or the Steam Union for his creation. We know Rupe acted on his own.”

  She shivers, fury all over her face, but doesn’t comment. I take that as a good sign and go on, feeling so sure of myself, I know this is my chance to get through to her and diffuse the situation.

  “Rupe is still Brotherhood,” I say. “But he’s working on his own.” I shrug. “At least, that’s what he told me. Belaisle appears to have fallen from grace and Rupe wants to replace him. You are in a powerful position, Eva. To take down the last of the Brotherhood and ensure the dominance of the Steam Union. Sage is my responsibility.” I thump my chest with one fist, hoping she listens, needing her to run off and do whatever it is she’s going to do and leave me to finish this fight. “Rupe and his sorcerers are yours. I’ll let you do your job, if you leave me to mine.”

  She doesn’t move a long moment, or react, though I feel her anger ebbing, her fear retreating. When she finally nods and turns from me, her mind reaches for mine.

  Keep my son safe, she sends. Or I’ll hold you personally responsible.

  She and her people vanish through a black tunnel, leaving the rest of us behind on the cool grass. I watch her go, heart tight, chest so compressed by the need to hold myself back, it’s hard to breathe. The moment the doorway slips shut, I turn to my friends who stare at me with expectation.

  “Let her try to find Rupe,” I say. “I already know where he went.”

  “To the palace,” Piers says, a tiny smile twitching the corner of his mouth. “Mum’s going to be pissed, Charlotte.”

  “Let her be,” I say. “This is my fight and no one is going to keep me from winning it.”

  ***

  Chapter Twenty One

  The words are barely out of my mouth when the air over head explodes with blue fire. I look up as Femke and her Enforcers appear, holding my place as she plunges to the ground and runs to me headlong. Another enthusiastic embrace, another moment of tears as she hugs me tight, rocking me back and forth as she chokes her own sobs into my ear.

  When we pull apart, she turns me slowly around, examining me, though all my physical hurts are now healed. Her sorrowful eyes tell me she’s aware I didn’t escape this entirely unscathed, but I shake my head at her, scattering the tears from my cheeks as I deny the questions she wants to ask.

  “Andre was here,” she says. “I have Enforcers rounding him up. He’ll stand trial and be executed, if he harmed you in any way.”

  I take her hand, pull her to me. “Let him go,” I whisper. “Send him home and ban him from your territory if you feel the need, but don’t harm him.”

  She stares into my eyes. “Charlotte—”

  “Please.” I wink at her, letting her see and feel my wolf. “He has a horrible end coming to him, Femke. I want him to enjoy every minute.” I then share with her the last touch of him I felt, the infection, the rot, and she shudders before nodding.

  “As you wish,” she says, eyes bright with more tears.

  Cursing, stumbling, the Dumont brothers and their father are herded from the dark by a pair of Enforcers. The moment they spot Femke, the three of them begin their protests, but the European Leader merely holds up her hand and they fall silent.

  “You are culpable,” she says in an icy voice matching her Scandinavian beauty, “in the kidnapping of a free werewolf, communion and cooperation with a rouge sorcerer, and invading my territory without permission when you were asked to leave Europe.”

  Andre’s lip curls, pulling against the wounds on his face. He has some arrogance left to him, it seems, though he refuses to look at me and his hands shake when he points at Femke.

  “We had nothing to do with any of it,” he lies, bold as you please. “We were coerced.”

  A typical and expected excuse. Femke’s anger doesn’t leave her, but she shrugs and gestures to the Enforcers guarding the Dumonts.

  “I couldn't care less,” she says. “You’re not mine to deal with any longer. Your own Council Leader will have to ponder your fate. But hear me, Andre Dumont.” Blue fire crackles around her, an ice queen, as stunning as she is deadly. “If you set one foot in my territory ever again, I will have you killed on sight, wi
thout prejudice, and anyone who succeeds in ending your life will be rewarded by me personally.”

  Andre twitches, old hate and anger simmering in his eyes. He turns from her with a sharp bark at his sons who slink off after their father. I wish Syd could see it. Their utter defeat almost makes everything worth it.

  No, not quite. That will take much more than simple defeat.

  Blue fire flares and the Dumonts are gone, back to America. I’ll pay Andre a visit when the time comes. For now, I have to find Sage. And rescue my grandfather. The timing is finally right. The trauma is over and Zoe was right—I survived it. Came out stronger on the other end, just like I always do.

  I turn to Femke and hold out my hand. “Is the army still waiting?”

  She nods. “And have been for days. Since you were taken.” Her face crumples, the stormy chill of her leader persona fading as the woman who cares about me returns. “Charlotte,” her voice is suddenly thick and heavy with regret, “I’m so sorry, this is my fault.”

  “No,” I say. “It’s Rupe and Andre’s. But the latter will wait.” I rub my arms through the fabric of Piers’s coat. “Where is Sage?”

  The Council Leader’s sadness is my answer. “We don’t know,” she says. “When we tracked Andre here, we assumed Sage would be with you.”

  I reach out for my love, but can’t find a trace of him. The thrill of panic that follows I smother with focus. “And Oleksander?” I hold myself rigid against my fear of the inevitable. “Is my grandfather still alive?” I almost don’t want to ask.

  Femke looks suddenly relieved as Ethpeal steps up and slips her arm around my shoulders.

  “Safe, for now,” she says. “Demetrius and I are just waiting for the order to go in and get him.”

  I nod. “If I’m right and Rupe is with the werewolves, he could be blocking your ability to travel there, too.”