Magic of Worlds (The Guardians Series Book 3)

by Lexi Ostrow

  “And what would you have me do until then? My brother is cheating.”

  “His side will suffer as yours has. The playing field must be level in that fashion. He took lives from you, and so I will take lives from him.”

  Finally, words that seemed to settle the bitter black hatred burning deep within. “And me?”

  “You will return to what you have always done. You will disband your paired up Word Speakers, and remove any memories from them of time spent together. They may not retain memories of the atrocities they encountered. All will go back to how it was.”

  “And what of Dale?”

  The God was so silent he could almost feel the wounds of torture he’d incurred after giving Dale Ciara’s gifts.

  “I do not see harm in allowing him to retain his memories. He is to your champion of sorts if the war happens while he lives. Only one lock is broken and it is not my place to speak on when the others will fall. Take heed, repair what has been dismantled and I will see to your brother.”

  As suddenly as the wind had whipped up the snow, it died down. He was alone again, feeling far to content with the knowledge that others would die to fix the balance than anyone leading the side of good ought to feel.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Cal looked out over the panoramic view of the French Rivera. It was the most serene location he’d ever let himself settle. If one could call living in a modest hotel settling. At the moment, he certainly did.

  It had been nearly four months, give or take, since he’d last seen hide or hair of Demus. The man had let him out, allowing him to live as if he were a Guardian. The idea had been to make him readily available to help with any attacks. Instead, he’d fled rather quickly and had taken up in a vacant hotel room.

  There was something rather enjoyable to the whole invisibility thing. He could go where he wanted, when he wanted and for free. He could eavesdrop on someone’s sensual night and drain power from a coven’s ritual. Wiccan’s could normally sense him, but he could feel himself steadily growing more powerful. The only drawback was the utter loneliness. Twice, he had thought about returning to the book and simply being a character. Each time, he’d decided lonely was better than essentially dead.

  “Demus will come eventually. He always does,” Cal said with a yawn as he watched a tiny skiff come into port.

  It was true. He’d run away before, but he certainly hadn’t actually hidden from Demus. Sure, he’d attempted to cloak himself on multiple occasions, but Demus had always found him. Four months without interference from the commanding demi-god seemed strange, but Cal had spied on his brother more than once and knew that Demus had his hands a bit full.

  Shaking his head, he raised the coffee mug to his lips and swallowed a generous portion of the steaming liquid. “That’s what happens when you bite off more than you can possibly chew,” he mused with a smirk.

  “You would know of that intimately, would you not?” A sound as eerie as death pierced through the blissful morning calm.

  Cal tensed, the fine hairs on the back of his neck rising. He could feel his heart pump faster, but did his best to turn as slowly as he could manage. There was no need to feign shock as he faced Demus’ dark golden eyes and impeccably rich looking leather jacket.

  “I had begun to wonder if you would ever return for me.” His words contained more bravado than he’d thought he could muster.

  “I was biding my time. My sources have told me that my brother and Huracan are hunting for me. The cloaking spell you and the others created could dwindle at any time. It means I need more power. Specifically, your brother’s. Can you manage to kill him and trap it?”

  Once upon a time, less than half a year before when Kellie unleashed them, his blood would have sung to destroy his brother. Not any longer. He took a long swig of the coffee, attempting to build up his confidence, before setting the empty mug on the small veranda table.

  “I have no interest in that. I have spent years trying to track him and kill him. Each time he succeeded. I have made peace with the fact that, one day, you will force me back to being a two dimensional ink stain on a page. I do not wish to fill my days with useless death attempts and trouble.”

  Demus tsked, his eyes darkening. “I had truly hoped you would not feel that way. Alas, I cannot say I am stunned. I will offer you one last chance to agree.” He took a step forward, his fangs glistening in the early sunlight.

  Swallowing hard, Cal closed his eyes for a moment. He wasn’t ready to return to the oblivion and never be alive again, but he wasn’t going to risk his life for the hundredth or so time only to fail. “I will not help. I accept my fate.”

  The already twisted grin that marred Demus’ face grew wider. “I had assumed as much. Unfortunately for you, no is not in my vocabulary.”

  Cal gasped as he felt his windpipe being crushed under an invisible force. Frantically, he allowed his witch fire to burn across his body. He flew backward, nearly tipping over the tiny balcony. All that saved him was Demus’ hand grasping his shirt. He’d been unprepared for the vicious strike of the other man’s fist as it slammed into his nose. Bone shattered and blood filled his mouth as tears sprang to his eyes.

  “You see I have other ways of persuading you. Even if it still boils down to your freedom.” Demus growled, flashing them to the strange space between worlds, a solidly black room with swirling colors on the walls. “I truly, truly do.”

  ***

  Blood rushed to Cal’s ears even as the water slowly rushed away from his face as Demus pulled the chair from the water. His lungs cried out as he opened his mouth to gasp down air. He couldn’t see the other man through the swelled skin around his eyes, but he could hear the question.

  “Are you ready to help, Cal?”

  Pain roared in his head. He was ready, only his lips wouldn’t open to answer. His eyes pushed open as wide as they could, sending a lancing pain through him. Demus was mere feet away, filing his nails, and not paying a lick of attention to him.

  I’m ready! he shouted in his mind. It felt as if he were trying to claw his way out of a coffin. No sound came out, and no recognition came from his tormentor.

  “No? Two days of this was not enough?” Demus dropped the nail file and took a step closer. “Such a pity. Very well then. A small reprieve so I do not accidentally kill you.” He turned and was gone a second later.

  Cal couldn’t enjoy the moment. His body screamed in agony from countless strikes of a cat o’nine tails. There was no longer any feeling in his lower extremities, but his upper half still felt every pull from having been stretched on the rack.

  A tear rolled uselessly down his face, whether in pain or anger he was not certain. He knew Demus had kept him responding and wanted nothing more than to kill him. The silence around him led to nothing as pain transferred to sleep.

  ***

  The sting as a blade carved mercilessly through his left thigh drew a ragged scream from his already sore throat. Hot blood streamed down his leg, mimicking a sensation of having wet himself. He winced and screamed as the sharp dagger came back for a second pass, digging deep into the already painful wound. His breaths came out in short gulps between his shouts.

  “Such a pity. All of this because you were not ready to do the one thing I asked. And after all that freedom I gave you.” Demus chortled.

  Without warning, the blade slammed into his palm. Cal howled in pain, the sound nearly wolf-like. Tears stained his vision as completely as blood marred his body.

  “Six days, Cal. Six very long days.” Demus walked a close circle around the chair Cal was tied too before grabbing a fistful of hair and jerking his head up. “What do you say? Are you ready to help me now?”

  “Yes.” The word was so quiet Cal thought he’d only spoken it in his head once again.

  “Very good then.” Demus’ grin was evident in his words.

  Demus jerked the dagger out, drawing fresh waves of blood over his fingers. A sensation of warmth passed over Cal just
after as wounds felt as if they were stitching up, and muscles that were long past destroyed knitted themselves back to a painless state. When the healing reached the swelling on his face, and his vision cleared, he gasped at how close Demus was standing to him.

  “Always remember, Cal, just who is in charge when it comes to true magic.” Demus waved a hand without waiting for a word from him.

  A doorway shimmered into view and Kellie sat in a very modern looking home with people he’d never seen before.

  “They cannot see us. This is a viewing window, not a doorway.” Demus walked away from him, stopping a few paces out. “Rest up. In a few hours we will begin. What I have planned will require more finesse than what you’re used to. I have use for Kellie, and I need you to make certain your brother doesn’t get in the way of me acquiring her.”

  Cal felt nothing when Demus flashed out. He’d lost all ability to feel as the torture had continued. He was nothing more than the shattered shell of a once powerful witch — bent and broken to another’s command.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “Absolutely not!” Kellie laughed, gasping for air as she looked at the image on the paper before her. “Sorry, there is just no way in hell that looks anything like an aardvark!”

  “Humans! You’re so judgmental!” Breena stomped her foot but had a smile on her face. “I knew there was a reason I didn’t play Pictionary with Dale, but you claimed you didn’t have any artistic skills.”

  Still laughing, she had to force the words out. “I don’t need artistic skills to know you lack way more than I do.”

  “Dale, it’s not that bad is it?”

  Dale looked between her and Breena, trying his best to hide a smirk. “Not that bad for a turtle, babe.”

  “Not funny.” Breena crossed her arms over her chest and tossed the marker to Kellie. “Fine, you do better.”

  Forcing herself to take deep breaths, Kellie turned the kitchen chair to face the impromptu easel Dale had set up. “Shouldn’t I wait for Dale’s partner? Doesn’t seem fair to do another round without Alcott.”

  Dale stretched his arms above his head before casually wrapping one arm around Breena. “No, this building is pretty big. Whatever wards he’s replenishing will probably take a chunk of time.”

  Kellie had felt snubbed when Alcott had gone out to add to the wards they’d placed prior. He’d told her that he had plenty of knowledge of such things, and it would look a little silly for her to be out wandering around doing it — the benefit of him not being fully released coming in handy.

  “Well, at least that way he can still pretend he thinks I’m fantastic at everything.”

  Just across the room, she noticed the faintest shimmering in the air. “Hey, when the guy formerly known as Ryce comes, does he just randomly appear or does he create a doorway like thing from the books?” She kept her eyes focused on the shimmering, waiting for it to grow bigger or for someone to step out of it.

  “Normally, he just appears. Though I’ve seen him take the alternate route,” Dale said, turning his attention to the space she was looking at. “That could be him, trying to be discreet, or it could be anyone. Breena, grab me a glass of water.” He turned to Kellie and explained just before she could ask. “I enjoy having access to everything. Alcott is wonderful for earth and fire magic, but he has no control over air or water. My prior Guardian had water skills. I’d rather be safe than sorry.”

  Nodding, she continued to stare at the shimmering air, which was slowly growing bigger. Dale took a small step back, and she saw fire glowing in each of his palms. She had not seen or been a part of the disastrous meeting, but it appeared he was too on edge. Even if it was a book character, the three of them had to be more than capable of dispensing anything that appeared.

  The space ceased to grow, and the shimmering air leisurely shifted, clearing and allowing a scene to form on the other side. It was nothing remarkable, just a suburban street like any other. Curious, she took a small step forward, ignoring Dale’s growled warning to be careful. Whatever was coming likely wasn’t an enemy if it was taking so long to appear. Perhaps Dale wasn’t the only one gifted with a way to walk through worlds after all.

  A man appeared just on the other side. His black, cropped hair and chiseled cheekbones were a welcome sight, and she didn’t even mind that his smirk seemed uncharacteristically big. Minus not having a trench coat, she didn’t notice anything off. She sighed, her shoulders relaxing as she looked at the brother in charge.

  It wasn’t until he stepped through and smiled that a chill passed over her, and she realized his eyes were gold, not silver.

  “Dale!” Breena shrieked, and the glass of water dropped to the wood floor, shattering.

  Kellie didn’t have time to react as Dale threw a ball of witch fire across the space. Demus screamed as the fire hit him, but it was more akin to a hiss of anger. She focused, igniting the flames along her body, only to feel a fist smash into the side of her head.

  Dizzy, she barely managed to stay upright as she felt a hand wrapping tightly around her forearm. She turned, only half surprised to see Cal before her. She hadn’t read a book since the ordeal had started, which meant only Cal could come for her. The room spun momentarily when his fist slammed into her stomach. As she righted herself, she silently chanted a quick grounding spell to make certain it did not happen again before moving onto more defensive measures.

  Instantly, flames burst out on her arms, but Cal held tight, his eyes a wild frenzy. “You have no idea what I have been through this past week. Paltry flames will not deter me.” With his free hand, he pulled an athame from the pocket of his jeans.

  She felt the blade the bite against her neck enough to let her know it was there, but not draw blood. Kicking out with her left foot, she smirked briefly as it connected with his balls. However, as with the fire moments prior, he flinched but didn’t release her.

  “Cal!” Alcott’s voice rang out as he appeared in the room, likely called by their bond because of her distress.

  “Ah, yes, Cal.” Demus tsked as he arrived, and with a wave froze everyone in the room.

  It was only the second time she’d experienced an utter lack of control, which only made her fight against it. Her muscles pushed and squeezed, trying to move, but she couldn’t make any part of her body respond, other than her eyes. She saw that Dale and Breena were all but ignored off to the side, and the man in leather looked crazed with fury as his hands reached toward Cal’s neck.

  “You should have remembered what I told you. She is not to die. I need magic users and your brother isn’t the only one here.” Demus snarled loudly through the room

  Demus lifted his hand into the air, and the athame sliced across her neck as Cal’s body lifted helplessly into the air. She flinched, not in pain, but in understanding. Even if her chest was not rising and falling rapidly, she was breathing quickly and panicking over the words she’d just heard. She wouldn’t help him. She wouldn’t work for him in any way. But as she watched Cal’s body slowly move into a horizontal position, she wondered if he wasn’t just going to kill her for what she had.

  Cal’s neck snapped to the left seconds before his body dropped to the floor, lifeless. Panic latched onto her like a friend as she realized Demus was likely going to kill them all. Her eyes flashed to Alcott’s, and she hurt at the tears she saw there. For all their differences, he’d never tried to actually kill Cal.

  Demus stepped over Cal’s broken form and stopped in front of her. She could feel the malice roll off him in waves and was grateful the other brother did not create such a suffocating effect when he was present. A gentle hand trailed over her face, as tenderly as Alcott’s, but it only caused bile to creep up her throat. As he touched her, the strangest sensation passed over her, like pins and needles everywhere. Her arm swayed slightly, and she realized his touch had given her the ability to move, to attack him.

  The condo floor shook. Books slid off shelves, and somewhere, a vase crashed with an ear-sha
ttering loudness. Another roll of the ground knocked her into Demus. Even in her panic, she was shocked Dale was using his magic. He’d explained before that once a Word Speaker twenty-seven everything was real, which meant he was truly shaking his condo building and creating an earthquake in downtown Seattle.

  Demus’ eyes rounded even as he tugged her against his body, using her as a shield. When he turned her around, still holding her against him, she saw Dale working free of whatever paralyzing power the brother had. The floor continued to roll beneath them. She couldn’t catch her balance enough to try to break away the hold on her. Digging her elbow backward, she connected loosely with Demus’ muscular chest before he tightened his grip.

  “I should kill you all, but for now, I do not have the time.”

  In an instant, she went from being in Dale’s dining area to seemingly nowhere. Much like the brief time she’d spent with the other brother, colors swirled as if alive over the walls. Only, where the others had been a brilliant white, these were an inky black. She shivered, and for a moment, wasn’t certain if she was afraid or cold. On top of that, she felt strange, as if she were displaced or having an out of body experience. When Demus turned to her, his eyes practically glowing yellow, she knew it was fear. Again, the nearly familiar sensation of being frozen washed over her.

  “You are quite beautiful,” Demus said, appraising her as he walked a tight circle around her. “I can see that Alcott has tremendous taste in women.”

  At the mention of Alcott’s name, her blood ran cold. She tried to speak, to tell him to fuck off, but couldn’t even open her lips.

  “You’ll find attempting to speak is useless, for now at least. In fact, there’s not too much you can do. You see, your spirit is here, but your body is rather . . . Well, unconscious on the floor with your friends.” His lips curved into an ugly smile. “I have a use for you Kellie. Well, two uses really.”

  She tried to lean back as his hand reached toward her, smoothing out her tousled hair. Being so near to him was sickening and felt as if he could physically drain the good and caring traits of her personality away. Of course, he couldn’t but his icy hand touched her anyway.