Natural Dual-Mage (Page 49)

Cahal took two unhurried, though extremely quick steps to cover the opening. Knees bent and body relaxed, he waited for the vampire to reach him in a dead sprint. The vampire jumped at him, claws out, mouth open, drool hanging from its fangs in a thick rope. Cahal stepped forward diagonally, bending gracefully to miss a claw, before reaching forward and grabbing the vamp by the neck and upper arm. He spun, using the vamp’s momentum to redirect the creature, and flung him into the shifters running toward them in a herd.

Once done, Cahal straightened, took two steps backward, and resumed his position at Penny’s back. He wasn’t even winded, as though he handled upper-middle-level vampires on a daily basis.

Whoever had hired this druid had clearly paid out of the nose, and he had been worth every cent. Emery never would’ve defeated this guy if he’d accepted the other bid—the one to kill Penny—though he would have died trying.

“Fracken crackhead’s pajamas, we have to break through this!” Penny yelled, sweat dripping down her face. He saw her glance up, then her body stiffened.

He followed her gaze…and almost emptied his stomach.

A seemingly endless number of mages walked toward them in horizontal lines, dressed in purple, red, and orange robes—high-powered magical workers, extremely capable, and sheriffs who were used to fighting under pressure. They’d increased their faction tenfold, obviously gearing up for this skirmish. Reagan, Penny, and he had a lot of power, but they were nothing compared to what was gathered within the dome. They wouldn’t be able to compete.

“Just blow it up, Reagan,” Penny said through clenched teeth. Her voice rose in pitch. “Just blow it up, or we’ll need to move this operation elsewhere. Soon they’ll be within striking range.”

“I can’t. That sucker up there is…trying to play footsie. What are you?” Reagan’s voice was wispy, all her concentration on her task. “I haven’t seen you before.”

“It’s a thing. It’s a reflection of someone’s personality,” Penny said, still working on the root. She was closing in, Emery felt it, but they needed Reagan to crack the cusp of the spell. The watcher.

“But it’s in the air,” Reagan said. “It’s just sitting on top of this ward. Or is it creating it?”

“You want her to live, yes?” Cahal asked Emery, his voice low and smooth. If he felt any pressure from the coming danger, he didn’t show it.

“Yes—”

“Above all, you want her to live?”

“Yes.”

Cahal’s eyes flicked to the side. To the mass of power slowly walking their way, working on a monstrous spell, he had no doubt. They’d banded together to face a common threat. It would’ve been commendable if his people weren’t the targets. “I will await your word to extract her. I would take her now, but—”

“No.” Emery knew Penny was there. Knew Reagan was close. Knew that if he helped, he could push them over the edge. “Not yet.”

“I will wait. I will rely on you for her survival.” The druid’s ice-blue stare burned into Emery’s brain, and he felt the duty to protect Penny pass to him. Felt it slither in his blood and take root.

Emery nodded, accepting the responsibility he had already assumed, before moving to Reagan and gripping her hand. Magic ran between them, the feeling strange and surreal.

“That’s unusual,” she said with a furrowed brow.

“Penny needs you ready, and you’re lagging. Show me.” He closed his eyes like Penny always did, focusing on what Reagan felt with her magic. Unbelievably, an image lit the backside of his eyelids. The top of the sphere, incredibly high off the ground, the surface pocked and the seams weak. Reagan’s magic had already eroded the weak points. But a glowing beacon sat in the middle, on the defensive, ready to react if foreign magic touched it.

“You said it has a personality, Penny?” Emery asked, going through his huge Rolodex of spells. Thinking of things he’d personally used, techniques he’d only heard about, and the Guild’s unsavory practices.

“Yeah. Here. Quick!” Penny sucker-punched him with something hard.

He lost his breath, but captured the stone she’d thrust at him.

“Plain Jane,” she said. “Your Plain Jane. It wants to be with you.”

Emery didn’t have time for power stones now, but he took it anyway, trusting her.

“They are advancing faster,” Cahal said, voice still calm, body close to Penny. “They all hold something in their hands.”

Emery felt the magic building, felt a wisp of deadly intent, which meant Penny had to be drowning in it.

“You’ve got thirty seconds,” Penny yelled at him.

What sounded like a bear roared. Wolves growled. Air whipped behind Emery as if something had raced past him. A vampire, he’d bet.

Magic shot close to them. Emery felt the pull to leave Reagan so he could defend them.

“Let them handle it, Emery,” Penny said in an urgent tone. “We need you here. Help her get that done.”

Penny knew him incredibly well. It was almost eerie.

The stone throbbed in his hand. Reagan took a step back, her silent urge for him to take over. He kept his grasp of her hand. He couldn’t properly use her magic without contact yet. He was slow to learn Penny’s innate gifts.

“What do you do, pet dragons?” Reagan muttered.

The stone throbbing in Emery’s hand stilled his thoughts. Power pumped through his body. Like a heartbeat.

“Blood magic,” he said, spells running through his head from a book long since forgotten. Something he’d found in his surrogate father’s room—a tome about circles and demons and bringing back the dead. He’d devoured it, fascinated by stuff straight out of bad horror flicks and gruesome tales told around the campfire. He’d even tried a spell or two before his brother had found out and ratted on him.

“They sacrificed someone for that spell—tore their soul from them so it could be used as the watcher, the keeper of the compound. Living flesh would’ve gone into the spell. The victim’s screams. The blood of the lost.” Emery racked his brain, trying desperately to remember if he’d ever heard about a counter-spell. Or something to peacefully set it off. “Peace,” he said, ripping his eyes open.

He wished he hadn’t.

The mages of the Guild had come to a stop on the other side of the ward. One of the three barons, dressed in a blood-red robe, stood out front, leading the spell they were calling into existence. It was hidden behind a shimmering, moving wall of magic, but Emery could see it rising.

“Shhhiii…” Emery gritted his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut again. “Get ready, Cahal.”

“Don’t you get ready, Cahal,” Penny said. “Emery has this. He’s right there. He has the answer. I feel it in him.”

“Ra ra ra,” Reagan said, shaking Emery’s hand a little, whether cheerleading or telling him to hurry, he couldn’t say.

“Peace for the tortured soul. Send the soul to its resting place.” He braced himself and reached out, finding Penny’s hand with the stone between it. Feeling a stronger force of serenity flow through him. Flow through Reagan. Sparkly white light danced behind his eyes. Deep black rolled through it. His grayish mutt met the two sides in the middle, and he held his breath. “Here goes nothing.”

He took Penny’s approach—rather than attack the spell, he embraced it with her serenity. With her care and beauty and love of all things natural.

“It’s time,” Cahal said, moving closer.

“I don’t want to rush you, Emery, but hurry,” Penny said, and for some reason, that was hilarious.

He laughed in deep belly chuckles as their combined magic surged around the watcher. The peaceful light infused the twisting and churning, anguished and decrepit spell. He wrapped it up snugly and sent the soul to its final resting place as Reagan stepped back into the ward and went to work, finding each crack and wresting it open. Lining the seams with fire or ice, depending on what was needed.

“Now blow it up, Penny,” Reagan said, letting go of Emery’s hand. “Then run like bloody hell.”

34

I didn’t wait, and I didn’t hang around. I shoved in a combination of Reagan’s fire, my own blend of magical heat, and Emery’s lightning, then I turned and sprinted.

“Wrong way.” A large, strong hand gripped my upper arm and whipped me around. Cahal gave me a little shove. “Now run.”

“Go, go, go, go,” Reagan yelled as she sprinted back toward the trees.

The shifters and vampires, temporarily short on enemies as the large group behind the ward readied their spell, watched in clear confusion as we ran through them, away from the mages. Darius and Vlad were the first to follow. Roger led his lot after them.

“This way,” Reagan said, turning left and running along the tree line.

Seek and destroy.

“We have a—”

Reagan whipped out her sword and stuck it up into the air, cutting through the spell filtering down.

“You got it,” I finished.

“Where are we going?” Emery asked, keeping up with me as I barely made pace with Reagan. Cahal loped easily by our side, and his perpetual ease was starting to get on my nerves.