The Adversary

by Thea Harrison

  “Of course,” said one of the most infamously dangerous sorcerers in the world in his deep, pleasant voice. “Liam and Khalil filled us in. Would it be all right if I went into the tent for a few moments? I don’t know that I can sense or do anything while Dragos is wearing the null spell shackles, but I’d like to check for myself.”

  “Please do.”

  She looked at Sidonie, who gave her a small smile. “Magic is Morgan’s forte, not mine,” the musician said.

  “I’ll be right back.” Morgan strode into the tent.

  Pia steeled herself to wait. Hope was painful, and so was not knowing. To give herself something to do, she flipped on the mom switch and concentrated on Liam. “You’ve been doing a lot of flying. Do you need to eat?”

  His tight stance relaxed a bit, and he gave her a look so full of exasperated love, the imperious Djinn standing beside him smiled. “I didn’t do much of the flying on this trip,” he reminded her. “Khalil did. And I’ve eaten some sandwiches. I’m okay, Mom. What about you?”

  “I’m okay too.”

  “But when did you last have something to eat?” he pressed. “You’ve been expending a lot of energy as well.”

  His persistence made her think back. The last time she had eaten had been breakfast, and that had been ages ago on this day that felt ten thousand years long. No wonder she felt hollow and edgy.

  But the last thing she wanted to do was put food in her mouth. “Good point. Do me a favor—please go back to the house and get me a protein shake. Lots of coconut milk, lots of calories.”

  She could tell by how his stance changed that he was relieved to be given something else to do. “You got it. Anything else?”

  “No, I—” She broke off as the tent flap lifted and Morgan stepped outside.

  And there was that damn hope again, clogging up her throat and shaking her hands. She wasn’t sure if Liam would notice, but she clenched her hands into fists anyway.

  “I’m sorry,” Morgan said as he strode to them. “Unfortunately, there wasn’t anything I could do.”

  The crushing weight landed on her chest again. She said tightly, “I’m not surprised.”

  “I’m not either,” Morgan said. “But I still had to try.”

  “Yes. Thank you.” She forced herself to take a deep breath. They were all looking at her carefully, as if they expected the crazy woman to reappear.

  They weren’t wrong to be cautious. The crazy woman wanted badly to come back. The only thing that stopped her was the sane part of Pia who pinned her down.

  “We need to make our next move,” she told them. “Carling, Beluviel, Grace and Khalil, and Morgan. You guys are my dream team. We have to go down into the ruins to see what we can discover about our invader.”

  “I’m coming too,” Liam said.

  “No.” The word came out of her faster than conscious thought. When he looked like he might argue, she said more strongly, “I said no, Liam. I’m your mother, I’m in charge while Dragos is incapacitated, and I don’t have to have a reason. Just no. You’re not going down there, not after what happened to your dad. Don’t put that on me.”

  She didn’t have to physically touch him to know how he vibrated with the need to reject what she said, but he reined it in and said simply, “Okay. Whatever you need.”

  “Thank you.” Grateful he chose not to push it, she blew out a breath. “Both Carling and Rune, and Bel and Graydon, have to decide if they can let their mates split up for this, or if Rune and Gray need to let the other sentinels take over here.” She looked at Morgan and Sidonie. “I suppose you need to decide that too.”

  “That’s already decided,” Sidonie replied. “I have no need to join the party and possibly hold everybody back because I don’t have anything useful to add.”

  Briefly, Pia admired her. She wasn’t sure she could make that decision if her mate was involved in something that was potentially so dangerous, but werewolves were different from the Wyr. Or maybe Sidonie just had such a staggering confidence in her lover, it superseded everything else.

  “Okay,” Pia said. “I want everybody to meet me at the house and be ready to go in….” She had to do some mental calculations, because they didn’t have cell phones, cars, or other ways to cut down on prep time. Glancing up, she gauged the moon’s position in the sky. “Before the moon sets.”

  Khalil told her, “Carling, Grace, and Bel are already waiting at the house. Before moonset will be plenty of time.”

  Liam also glanced at the sky. “It’ll be dawn in a couple of hours. Would it be better to wait until daylight?”

  Frowning, she considered that. “Daylight didn’t do me or Dragos any favors when we had been in the ruins and waiting will only waste time we can’t afford to lose. We’ll go down as soon as we’re ready.”

  Nobody spoke up or poked holes in her plan, so that was that. They headed back to the splendid three-bedroom prefab house that Dragos had constructed solely with her comfort in mind, and that she now hated quite illogically.

  It was still a perfectly fine house. It had three spacious bedrooms, a couple of fireplaces, cool ecofriendly technology that worked well in Other lands, granite countertops, soft close drawers, blah blah blah. But they had barely arrived when disaster had struck, and there weren’t enough good memories to offset the bad. She wanted to set it on fire.

  The thing possessing Dragos had walked his evil cooties through the house. As soon as she had her mate back, she was going to turn on the complaining wife faucet and let that sucker run. They were going to live someplace else. Anyplace else. She didn’t care where or in what. A Quonset hut would do. Like she’d said to Liam, she didn’t have to have a reason.

  Back at the beautiful, doomed house, Grace, Carling, and Beluviel weren’t the only ones waiting. Eva and Linwe were there too, along with Aryal, Quentin, Bayne, and Grym.

  Pia left them all to update each other and figure out everything they needed to figure out, and probably talk about her while she was gone. She strode into the kitchen pantry, grabbed her breast pump and some empty bottles, and headed for the bedroom.

  Eva caught her in the hallway. She bit out, “Not now.”

  “Pia, what can—” Eva caught sight of what she held in her hands, took in her tense attitude and the overly wet sheen in her gaze, and drew up short. Then Eva pointed at her. “I’m your partner and your bodyguard. I know you told Liam he couldn’t go, but don’t give me any of the same shit. I’m going down in the ruins with you. Your go bag is packed. I’ll be out here waiting with the others.”

  Eva’s sharp, no nonsense attitude was exactly what Pia needed when she needed it the most. “Do you know anything about how the children are doing?” she asked, her voice strangled with the tears she refused to shed.

  “Every single one of them is perfect,” Eva said. “And they’re all being doted on. Niniane and Tiago, and several other badass people I shall not name are with them. Niall is giving everybody hell, and they can’t wait to hand him back to you. We’ve been getting regular complaints. I mean updates.”

  Closing her eyes, Pia smiled. “That’s my baby boy. When I’m done, please get my breast milk to him.”

  “Of course, honey.” Eva gave her a brisk nod. “Go do your business. We’ll be ready when you are.”

  Pia gave her a crooked smile. “God, I love you. Have you had a chance to get laid yet?”

  Panic flashed over Eva’s bold, beautiful features. “No, and shut your mouth!” she hissed. “Linwe’s just in the other room! You know how Elven hearing is!”

  “I hear it’s pretty good.”

  “Get out of here!” Eva slapped her on the back. “Shit!”

  Wonder of wonders, she actually laughed. Pretended to be normal, just for a few moments. Then she went into the master suite and got on with her business.

  Two days, max. Dragos had promised. And at least an hour of that time was already gone. She could withstand almost anything for two days.

  And in the m
eantime, they might find something in the ruins that could help.

  Chapter Four

  Dragos had just enough time to warn Pia before the adversary’s latest spell enveloped him completely.

  He slammed into darkness, but this time he didn’t lose consciousness. Iron chains whipped around his body, pinning his arms and legs together, and something shoved him hard. He toppled and fell and fell…

  He plunged into icy water that closed over his head, and the combined weight of his body and the chains caused him to sink. He couldn’t breathe or swim, and his lungs quickly started to ache.

  He was trapped, drowning. There was no way out. No way to shout for help. Panic beat at him with black insistent wings.

  Dragos took a moment to admire that panic and the comprehensiveness of this spell. The adversary had not been idle while Dragos had been talking to Pia. He’d had time to craft this attack carefully.

  This was different from the pretty idyllic clearing or the mirror spell by the water. It was aggressive, deadly, and immaculate.

  There were many types of illusion spells. Most of them did not hold up under closer scrutiny. The stronger and more complex the illusion was, the more it tricked the mind into believing it was real.

  And if you built an illusion spell that was strong and complete enough, it could convince the mind of just about anything. Combine it with a panic spell, and you could literally cause someone to die because they believed they would die. The mind was a powerful thing.

  The adversary was no longer looking to subdue him or encourage him to self-destruct. He was looking to kill.

  Murdering the host you were possessing, however you chose to do it, was an extremely risky maneuver, because more often than not the body died along with its native consciousness, and there was always the possibility that the host’s death would take the possessor with it.

  Either this parasite was highly confident he could maintain control over Dragos’s body after Dragos’s consciousness died, or he was desperate. Or both.

  But as beautifully crafted as this latest illusion was, it still had that fatal shortcoming—it did not encompass Dragos entirely. He knew better, and he didn’t believe it. The chains, the lack of air, the dark, frigid water, this version of his body—the only thing that was real was the intricately crafted structure of the spell that created it.

  And Dragos remembered very well the time when he existed before earth was formed, when he had no physical body. When he soared through the heavens basking in a sunlight so pure it was a piercing sword of luminous gold. His consciousness knew very well that he did not need a breathing body for him to survive.

  But his enemy didn’t know that.

  After a few lightning-fast calculations, Dragos continued to struggle futilely. He allowed the panic to sink through most of his consciousness. After he judged that he’d had enough time to “drown” he went limp, and his fake body settled on a rocky bed of sand.

  Then he waited, inert, drifting in silent darkness, his mind acquiescent. He had never personally driven someone he had possessed to death, so he could only guess at what would happen next.

  If he had truly died there would be no consciousness to cage, so the spell that created this version of his body, along with the chains that bound it, would lose its anchor. At that point, theoretically, it should dissipate.

  He sensed the adversary’s silent, sharp attention. This was a game Dragos had been playing his whole life, a game he loved: two predators sizing each other up, calculating odds, and planning their next moves.

  Here I am, you bastard, the dragon thought, deep where the spell could not reach. I’m helpless and unconscious. What are you going to do now?

  Slowly the alien presence crept closer. As he did, Dragos relinquished his attachment to the fake body, and both it and the chains dissipated. He let his mind expand, a dragon mantling its wings—and then he struck.

  When Pia exited the master suite, she was freshly showered and dressed in sturdy jeans, hiking boots, and a T-shirt. Eva waited just outside her door and raised her eyebrows as she looked down Pia’s figure.

  “What now?” Pia asked.

  “Nothing, I would just feel better if I saw some Kevlar,” Eva replied. “A little armor to guard your chest plate, I don’t know, something.”

  “I get it, but there’s nothing alive down in that hole.” Pia paused. “Nothing that’s physical, anyway. The biggest danger to anyone is going to be magical in nature.” She handed over the bottles of breast milk. “Please see that this gets off to where it needs to go.”

  “Jocasta and Ramone will know who to give this to. Be right back. Don’t leave without me.”

  “Of course not.”

  Pia walked toward the living room, where there was a large party of people deep into a discussion of magical theory. All of them were dressed in sturdy clothes and leather half armor, with backpacks and weapons. She assessed the group.

  Rune and Carling—no surprise there. Rune had not been able to let Carling get too far away ever since she and Pia had been kidnapped. Beluviel and Graydon, also no surprise. Grace and Khalil, Morgan and Sidonie, Bayne, and Liam.

  At her arrival, everyone stood. Morgan said, “We decided on an even number for the party going down into the ruins. That way we can stay in pairs and keep an eye on each other in case one of us starts to show distress or act strangely. Bayne has agreed to be my partner, with your approval.”

  Pia regarded the sentinel who gave her a sleepy-looking smile. The three gryphons looked like they could be brothers—they were powerfully built and had varying shades of blond hair and suntanned skin. Rune was the most classically handsome, and Graydon’s features were the roughest.

  Bayne had a little Gerard Butler action going on, with a strong-boned, weathered face, a firm, sensual mouth, and dimples that made a surprising appearance when he smiled. He ambled rather than walked, and the ringtone on his cell phone was “Staying Alive” by the Bee Gees. Even the wave in his unruly, sun-streaked hair looked relaxed.

  He had also been the head of New York’s Wyr Division of Violent Crime for many years, and none of the sentinels had achieved their positions by being easygoing or lax, at least not on the job. She liked Bayne so much and wasn’t fooled for a moment by his jovial, easy-going attitude.

  “I approve,” she said, and Bayne’s dimples made a fleeting appearance as his smile deepened.

  Liam told her, “I’ll walk with you, at least to the ruins. But like I promised, I won’t go in.”

  “Good.” She turned when the front door opened, and Eva walked in. “If we’re all ready, let’s go.”

  Morgan gave Sidonie a lingering kiss and the beautiful musician hugged him tightly. As everyone filed out, Bel touched Pia’s hand with a reassuring smile. “I know this is incredibly stressful and scary, but we’re going to figure this out.”

  She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. “Yes, we will.”

  This trip to the ruins was far different from the first time when, for convenience’s sake, Dragos had shapeshifted into the dragon and had flown with her over the settlement to the construction site of the new concert hall. The early morning sun had been blazing, and she had caught glimpses of the unseen at the edge of her vision, wispy flickers against the bright sunlit sky.

  This time, the group strode quickly through the settlement. It was very late at night, and after the events at the beach party when they had tackled Dragos—the interloper in Dragos’s body—to the ground, the twenty thousand inhabitants had retreated back to their individual encampments.

  Despite the lateness of the hour, people lingered in huddled groups, talking in low voices around campfires, and watched the group warily as they passed, but nobody approached. The celebratory attitude from earlier had vanished, and everyone wore weapons.

  Thinking back to the unseen during her brief flight with Dragos, she thought of her strange encounter in the clearing and beckoned Bel over. As the Elven woman fell into step beside
her, Pia told her telepathically about what had happened.

  One moment I could see them plain as day, and in the next moment they had vanished, she finished.

  The torches positioned periodically along the path made Bel’s large eyes brilliant. Fascinating. And the change happened when you shapeshifted?

  Yes. That first one clearly wanted to touch me, which was not okay, but I don’t think he—or she—meant any harm. Pia frowned. I’ve been too busy until now to even think about it, let alone try to figure out what it means. What do you think?

  I think it means you’re even more extraordinary than I already knew. Bel gave her a warm smile. Your Wyr form must be closely attuned to the dimension they inhabit. Their realm lies so close to ours. I wonder what else you could see and hear of theirs? What if you could step into their realm altogether? It would be a form of travel entirely different from walking the crossover passageways or the speed of the Djinn in flight.

  She shuddered at the thought. And what if I couldn’t make it back? I could be trapped in some alien place forever. No, thank you.

  As they talked, they drew near the construction site.

  Bayne said suddenly, “I smell blood.”

  The group’s reaction was instantaneous. Liam and Eva flanked Pia and faced outward. Khalil dematerialized and surrounded Grace, causing her figure to blur. Graydon pulled Bel to his side and drew his sword.

  Carling, Rune, Morgan and Bayne raced forward. As the others approached, they crouched beside a prone figure. Carling straightened immediately. “He’s dead. His throat was cut.”

  “There’s another one.” Morgan strode over to the body, some thirty yards away. After kneeling briefly, he said, “Same here. Looks like a knife stab to the jugular. Very neatly done. With the right approach, the victim wouldn’t have had time to call out.”

  “How many guards were left on site?” Bayne asked. He didn’t wait for a reply. Instead, he jogged around the large, jagged hole in the ground.