Magic of Worlds (The Guardians Series Book 3)

by Lexi Ostrow

  “I have need of a new name. And that is something only a Word Speaker with magical powers can help with. Ah, I know you are thinking, ‘Don’t you all have those?’ Hardly, not every Guardian lives in a paranormal story. Besides, your personal religious choice makes you more in tune with the energy needed to help with a name change.”

  She knew that names held power, even if Alcott hadn’t told her that when explaining why Ryce wasn’t a Ryce anymore. She could practically feel her jaw grinding together as she tried to tell him to go to hell.

  “Aside from that, I could use you on my side. Every warrior is a possible victory. Granted if you help with one you cannot help with the other.” He waved his hand. “You may respond now, but not move.”

  Her lips flew open painfully as if tearing dried glue from the soft flesh. “You can fuck off in whatever corner of hell you live in.” She tried to spit at him, but nothing happened.

  He only grinned wider, laughing for a moment. “I had expected such defiance. Unfortunately, I cannot break you the way I broke Cal. Your body and mind would snap under torture.”

  Her nostrils flared in anger. “You know nothing about me!”

  “I know that you are a product of a tragically broken home. I know your father taught you small traces of right from wrong and that Alcott has stepped up that knowledge and has trained you in the art of defense. I know you’ve never endured intense physical pain and that you are stubborn enough that your body would give out before your mind if you were tortured. So that option is out.”

  “You’ll have to kill me then,” she said, the challenge to do it in her voice.

  “See, that does me no good.” He stroked his fingers over his perfect chin. “What if I promised not to destroy your precious Guardian? After all, you will need one, regardless of whose side you fight on.”

  She tensed. He could be telling the truth. Alcott’s blood would be on her hands if she didn’t agree. And your father would be disappointed in you. He didn’t teach you to switch sides and give up. He taught you to protect those you love and do what was right.

  Unsure if her eyes moved or not, she attempted to narrow them at Demus. “Alcott wouldn’t want to live if it meant helping you.”

  “You seem so sure of that.”

  “I know him. I know his heart, and I know his soul. I will not help you.”

  Demus growled, and she felt the air grow thick around her — not quite suffocating her, but something similar. Though she could breathe it was hard, and her eyelids began to grow heavy. A wicked tiredness descended over her, dropping her to the ground, knees crunched under her. The last thing she saw was Demus’ golden eyes staring down at her.

  Witch fire exploded from Alcott’s hands, slamming uselessly into chairs and curtains. A roar of fury tore from him as the floor of the condo shook, something only he and Dale could feel.

  “Alcott! You need to calm down,” Dale shouted from mere steps away. “Look at her, she’s breathing for crying out loud, and your magic can hurt her!”

  Alcott heard the words but could not process them. Anger rolled through every fiber of his being.

  She’s gone. She’s gone. He could feel himself begin to hyperventilate as the meaning washed over him. He had failed. Kellie was gone. There was no way to dismiss what had happened. He was her Guardian, and he’d let her get hurt. Not once, but twice, including the attack in New Orleans during the summer. Her faith in him had been misplaced. All their faith in him had been misplaced, he was not deserving of the freedom he had received.

  All he had done was fail his Word Speakers. Twice.

  The rage he felt slipped into despair as the loss of the woman he loved slammed into him. Tears welled up in his eyes, and he didn’t even care who saw them. Ryce was to blame. He’d done something that had pissed his brother off and Demus had come after them for no reason. Dale hadn’t been the target, Kellie had been. His Word Speaker.

  The room grew small, hot and began to spin. Images slammed into him. He and Kellie training. Teaching her to use her powers. Sex. A tumultuous collage of moments that did nothing but deepen the stinging cut to his being.

  “Kellie,” he choked out, barely able to force her name past his lips.

  He wasn’t certain how much time passed. He forced himself to look everywhere but at the prone form of the woman he loved. The one woman who meant more to him than his life.

  His eyes fell to the place where Kellie had collapsed on the floor. The rise and fall of her chest was steady, but certainly impossible to miss. He froze, not trusting his eyes and what they showed him. Taking a step closer, he rubbed them, shocked to see that her breathing hadn’t stopped. Whatever had been done to her, she still lived, at least for the moment. His knees buckled under him at the thought that she might not. Pain barely fazed him as it traveled through his body from the impact to the wooden floor.

  “Alcott, get up. We have to move her someplace,” Dale urged, his hand landing on Alcott’s shoulder.

  “I don’t think you should touch her.” Breena’s voice was meek compared to the fiery tone she typically used when trying to get attention.

  Alcott turned his gaze to her, even as he reached a hand out to cover Kellie’s. “Why not?”

  “Didn’t you see what happened to her? Right before Demus left?” Now she sounded angry.

  “Don’t toy with me right now, Breena. If you have something to say, fucking say it.” He’d never heard himself use such a deadly tone, but he didn’t feel guilty.

  “I’ll ignore the tone because I cannot begin to understand the hurt,” Breena said with a scoff and kneeled beside him. “Just before Demus left, it looked as if he separated Kellie from herself. As if he took her soul and left her body behind.”

  “Which would make sense,” Dale said, also sitting down on the floor, encasing Kellie in a circle. “If he left her body, it’s like an insurance policy we won’t go after him. Because it’s damn likely only he can undo whatever he did.”

  “She’s not dead,” Alcott whispered softly, essentially ignoring everything that had been said. It washed over him but did nothing to permeate the anger and fear coiled tight within his gut.

  “Aside from the obvious fact that she has a pulse, no she is most certainly not dead. The question is what did happen to her?” Dale stated rather emotionlessly. “Breena, she’s unconscious, can you go in?”

  “Absolutely not!” The command bellowed from him. “I know how that works, and you will not touch what little energy she has.” His whole body was tremoring with rage once again. “You will not.”

  “I do not have to take anything from her. I can merely slip inside and see how the energy patterns on the strings of her life are. Think of it like the tales of the Fates cutting someone’s life string. If I can see how strong hers are, we can know how quickly we need to proceed, and what to tell our fearless leader to help him get her back.”

  His teeth were still clenched together, but he nodded. Of course, they were right. Checking on her vital signs was the only way to know how bad she was. He looked back at her chest, trying to breathe easily once seeing how steadily she was breathing.

  “Dale, are you certain you don’t want to do it?” Breena asked skeptically.

  “I want to be here should anyone else try to attack. You’re quick to kill, and I want anyone that dares to come back to get to the brother we report to for questioning.”

  If Breena found the words harsh, she didn’t indicate it. “Alcott, there is no pain associated with this, I swear it. I trusted you inside my mind, and I let Kellie try. Trust me to do this.”

  He felt himself blanch at the request. He’d entirely forgotten that Breena had allowed them inside her mind. “I understand. I apologize if my outburst seemed like I did not trust you. I am having trouble not racing off and finding a way to Demus myself. I trust you, explicitly.” He looked back down at Kellie and squeezed the hand he was holding. “Is there anything I need to be looking out for?”

  “No, she
won’t even know I’m there. I won’t be touching anything, just looking at vibrancy.”

  He blew out a long, slow breath through his nose. “Do it. Please. When Ryce gets here, he’s going to wake her up or snap her out of it, whatever the fuck it takes. But you’re right, we should do this first.”

  Breena closed her eyes, and Alcott found himself staring at her. Her face was a mask of tranquility, which did nothing to ease him. His heart pounded so quickly and loudly in his chest that it roared through his ears like drums. Over and over, he rubbed the pad of his thumb over Kellie’s hand, doing anything to keep himself grounded to her.

  “She’s going to be okay, Alcott. I’ve dealt with Demus on a more personal level than I care to admit. He doesn’t do anything without a reason. If he took her, he wants her. Doing it this way, I’m certain it was a means to an end that would keep us at bay. A threat to us, not to Kellie.”

  He leveled his eyes at the Word Speaker, glaring. “And what good could possibly come of him needing Kellie?”

  “None. But if he needs her, she’s alive. It’s possible the plan was never to kill her in the first place.” Dale ran a hand through his short coppery hair and looked at the wood planks. “Is it possible that . . . well, that she might have any inclination to darker impulses.”

  “Not at all,” the words were stern, quick and positive. “I’ve been with her long enough to know that. Her mother left her, which I admit could taint her soul. But her father instilled value in her, as did her legal guardians. While she’s certainly not Mother Theresa feeding the poor, she’s never had a violent impulse save for when I was in danger. There’s no way in hell she’s a match for Demus, or I would’ve been warned first.”

  Dale nodded curtly. “I just needed to ask. To be certain.”

  “Well, I’m certain.” The darkly spoken words hung in the space between them.

  “She’s there,” Breena said, cutting through the tense moment. “All five strands of life are bright and tightly strung. Whatever has been done to her isn’t endangering her life any. Though I’d wager a bet that if something happens to her here, or wherever she was taken, the consequences won’t be pretty.”

  He didn’t dare let out the breath he had been holding. Clenching his free hand, he finally released Kellie and pushed to his feet.

  “Mother fucker! Yes, I’m talking to you. You won’t let me call you by a name so that is how you’ll be referred to from here on out!” he screamed, grateful that none outside the condo could hear him. His chest heaved with exertion, and he felt himself grow slightly light-headed as he continued. “I’m talking to you! Oh, wonderful deity of ours. I’m waiting for you, and I’m going to keep waiting until you show yourself.”

  Seconds ticked by, the only sound in the room the heavy breathing emanating from his mouth. Growling low, he wished like hell he had a way back to the other realm. “Goddess be damned! Show yourself, your warriors need you!” The room spun from the intensity of his shout, but still nothing.

  “He’s not going to show, is he?” Breena asked Dale.

  However, Alcott was the one to answer. “Oh, he’s going to fucking show. I don’t fucking care how long I have to scream or how many things I have to destroy until he does. I know what the man truly in charge does to him, and he’s just paying it forward like a dick.” The words were slightly less than a civilized growl.

  He tossed his arms up, witch fire flickering over them. “Well, come on then, Ryce! Come and teach me not to call you that! Come see how I’ve grown since we began to spar because I’m fucking done!” The floor rumbled with his anger. “Do you hear me? I’m fucking done. You want a civil war on your hands? So be it! I won’t hesitate to force Dale to take me to the Word Speakers he knows of, and I will poison them against you. This is a battle you will not win. Show yourself!”

  “Alcott, maybe you should —”

  A streak of witch fire licked through the room and hit Dale in the chest, dragging out a deep shout. Breena had a blade to his throat within seconds, and a small trickle of blood dripped from the instant pressure.

  “Try that again, witch, and I’ll remind you what being a Guardian means. Friend or foe, you touch him again, and I will destroy you.”

  “Breena, stop,” Dale choked out, dipping his hand in water and drawing an arc of it up as he utilize the healing talents from his past Guardian.

  Alcott felt no remorse, only a distinct anger that, even after attacking the special one, no one had shown up. “I’m not sorry. I shouldn’t have done it, but I’m not sorry. Stay out of my way right now. If you need me to leave, I’ll go in the hall, but do not interfere with me trying to save her.”

  “I understand. A mistake is a mistake. I can’t imagine what I’d do if Breena were ever seriously threatened. I was just saying to give it a rest for a moment.” Dale rubbed his hand over his chest.

  “I have no intentions of giving it a rest. He does nothing but bitch about how Huracan refuses to help when needed. He has no reason to do that considfering he does that to us.”

  “Who or what the fuck is a Huracan? Some sort of hurricane about to hit?” Dale asked, irritated.

  “It’s the God who placed the pair of them in charge to begin with. The man who supposedly foretold the prophecy and granted the existence of Word Speakers. and therefore, us.”

  Breena let out a whistle. “Who would’ve thought they weren’t the only ones in charge.”

  “Ryce! Goddess help you, come fix what you’ve allowed to happen!”

  The words were no sooner out of his mouth than the demi-god appeared before him, trench coat dusted with snow and eyes flaming.

  “I don’t understand why you think I’m some sort of fucking puppy on a leash —”

  Alcott rammed him, straight launching himself shoulder first into his closest friend’s chest. The man stumbled backward a step but did not falter.

  Alcott didn’t stop.

  His fist cracked into the man’s jaw, doing nothing, save for sending a jarring pain through his arm. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except for the fact that the asshole under him had taken his sweet time arriving. Over and over, he slammed his fists into his friend’s face, growing angrier each time the strike did not cause any injury.

  He felt someone pull at his shoulders, but he didn’t care. He didn’t even care when his foot kicked into Kellie’s unconscious body when Ryce finally threw him off. With a noise that would have disturbed their neighbors had it been anyone else hitting the wall, Alcott finally snapped out of his rage induced haze. He was breathing hard, blood covering his knuckles from punching the other man.

  Without a word, the man stood up, tugged on his trench coat and narrowed his striking silver eyes at Alcott. “Are you quite finished?”

  Chapter Nineteen

  He took slow, deliberate steps in the direction of one of the only Guardians he actually considered a friend. Alcott was sprawled on the floor, back resting on the wall he’d been thrown into. Anger blazed out of his eyes so brightly the blue seemed to glow.

  “I’m so fucking sick of being attacked by my Guardians,” he growled and tugged on his coat again, trying to get it to fall flat against his body and not wrinkle up. “Seriously, the whole kit and caboodle of you think that I’m a goddamn punching bag or something.” He extended a hand downward to Alcott.

  “Maybe if you weren’t such an arrogant, self-serving prick, we wouldn’t have a reason to kick your ass.” Alcott snarled and pushed himself up, ignoring the outstretched hand.

  “Touché. Although, I can assure you nothing I do is self-serving. I have spent thousands of years solely existing to stop a darkness from destroying the world. I’ve lived practically alone and watched everyone, save for my brother, die. I’ve seen the rise and fall of civilizations and mourned the loss of more beings than you could ever hope to know in your limited lifetime. So while I will agree that, at times, I am a dick, I am never self-serving.” He felt his eyes flash, a warning that all in the room had se
en at least once prior.

  Alcott dragged his knuckles over his dark t-shirt, wiping his blood off. “As I said, if you weren’t such a prick.” he grumbled and continued to glare at him. “You might not be self-serving, but I dare you to tell me that you’ve had our best interests at heart the past few months. Pairing us up, leading us together to be targets and allowing your brother to destroy any of us that he can.”

  As many times as he’d been bitched at and attacked by a warrior, he’d never heard such utter bitterness and contempt directed at him prior. He knew he had failed. It was impossible not to know. He’d recently left Siberia, burying another fallen pair. Alcott had trusted him, that was obvious, but why was his friend so vehement that he’d failed?.

  That was when he noticed the distinct lack of a fourth person in the room. “Where is Kellie?”

  “Look. Fucking. Down,” Alcott thundered.

  Dropping his eyes to the floor, he cursed, realizing immediately that the Word Speaker was certainly not engaging in a late afternoon nap. However, her chest rose and fell as peacefully as if that were all she was doing. He knelt down beside her, placing his fingers to her neck to verify her pulse was as steady as her breathing. He was almost dismayed to find out that it was. Gently, he shook her. She did not respond. Focusing on healing, he watched as the white glow fled from his body to hers. Nothing changed.

  “What has happened here? Someone other than Alcott please answer me. I believe he needs time to compose him and rightly so.”

  “We were attacked. Probably a half an hour ago.” Dale was standing off to the side, out of harm’s way, which was smart.

  “By what?” He raised a brow, curious what could drop a human into such a deep sleep.

  “Who,” Alcott barked.

  “Demus.” He didn’t say his brother’s name as a question. It wasn’t one. “Was he alone?”