Chapter 24
For a split second, Blaze froze.
The sight of Silas lanced through her like a knife. In all the years she’d thought of him, missed him, been terrified of what he might do to her, she’d always prayed she’d never meet him like this.
Evil and dark, totally in the power of the idol.
Now she knew. Taking it away hadn’t helped. She hadn’t saved anyone.
She had to figure out how to break the tie between the coven and the idol, permanently. And then she had to figure out how to destroy it.
The leader slowly raised his head, turning his dead eyes in Blaze’s direction. His twisted expression never changed, and his movements were awkward. That’s Silas projecting his essence through someone else’s body, Blaze realized. He isn’t really here. Why isn’t he here? He raised his hands and magic pulsed out of the hole in his chest, down his arms and out into the circle.
Despite his clumsy, almost comical movements, the force of his power almost knocked Blaze to her knees.
She locked her legs and pushed back, feeling Zane’s power supporting her. Whatever Zane was, wherever his power came from, there was a lot of it. The protective fire grew lighter, white shining through the blue flames. Blaze focused on that, on dissipating the shadow that tried to pull her inner darkness into the idol and bind it there.
A blast of matching power surged from Zane. The shadows emanating from them snapped back into their bodies, leaving them staggering, barely able to keep the circle alive.
The coven seemed to know that. They turned to face the idol, standing in a triangle with muddy yellow energy the color of sulfur streaming from them, trying to break Blaze and Zane’s circle of protection and containment so they could get to the idol.
Or it could get to them.
“FREE ME!” The terrible voice of the idol thundered through the room once more. The coven redoubled their efforts, and Blaze and Zane were locked in place, all their energy focused on keeping the coven’s magic at bay. Blaze felt sweat pouring off her body, and Zane’s shirt was wet.
How long could they keep this up?
Sharp black shadows streaked out from the coven, converging on the idol. It roared with pleasure, beginning to draw power from them.
Power that was given freely, feeding the idol. The blue-white flames sank, the circle of containment weakening further.
The leader shuffled forward, head lolling, his limp hand reaching out for the idol. He’s not really here, Blaze reminded herself. He’s remote-controlling this body. She should be able to use that.
If she could cut off the contact between Silas and his host, maybe his power would cut off too.
“Zane!” she screamed.
He couldn’t possibly have heard her over the noise of the idol, commanding its minions. But somehow he did. With a huge effort, he slowly turned his head toward her.
“Give it everything!” she shouted.
She knew he already was, but he gave a jerky nod. Blaze called on everything inside her. Blue-white power roared through them. Blaze let Zane take control of it, and then used a tiny thread of her power to call up a simple telekinesis spell, focusing on a heavy glass jar on one of the shelves behind the coven.
Osha. The strongest herb she had to protect against spirit possession.
Trying to split her focus between the protection circle and the jar, she used the last of her energy to lift it off the shelf. She hurled it at the coven leader, the jar accelerating faster and faster, until it hit his host body on the head and shattered.
Dried osha leaves and powder showered down.
The host body jerked, coming suddenly back to consciousness. He screamed, blood running down the side of his face, and his body arched in a seizure.
Silas fought to keep control, but his concentration was broken and the host’s mind fought his, the osha working to sever their link. Blaze could feel the group’s magic spiraling out of control. The idol rose in the air, straining toward the sorcerers. Blaze threw the last of her power into the protective circle.
The idol hit the circle of flame like a lit match in a room full of gas fumes. The competing magics detonated with a thundering roar.
The coven sorcerers were blasted against the wall, slamming into the shelves behind them. The idol tried to go to them, and Blaze lunged at it, grasping it out of the air just as the explosion of magic picked her up and hurled her through the air towards the balcony doors.
At the last moment, Zane somehow managed to get between her and the doors, wrapping her tightly in his arms. They crashed through, shards of shattered glass and chunks of splintered wood raining down around them. The force hurled them over the railing, and they fell towards the stone terrace below.
Rebel, perched on the balcony railing with her climbing rope wrapped around her gloved hands, saw the scene unfold as if in slow motion. The sorcerers entering the room, the boss using Jack like an animated doll.
The magics fighting each other, bright blue swirling amidst muddy yellow. The coven coming so close to winning, to recovering the idol.
And then the jar of herbs coming at Jack, tumbling over and over in the air toward his head. Rebel had called out in warning, but no one could hear her. She watched the jar shatter on his skull, the herbs coating his body, watched him seize into a spine-cracking arch, body bent backwards, toes barely touching the floor.
Screaming.
And then the balcony doors exploded outwards with a hot sulfurous wind like a taste of hell, and Rebel was flying off the balcony, half-conscious, tumbling inexorably toward the ground.
Thorne came down in a deep dive, magic and earthquakes and deep terrible voices rumbling through his brain. As he approached the back of the house, headed for the lighted French doors on the left side, the doors shattered outward with a huge booming crash.
He saw Zane get blown out in the aftershock, holding Blaze in his arms. His brother Changed, wings unfurling, and caught the wind.
Thorne blew out a fiery breath of relief. He was all right.
Thorne was turning to follow Zane when he saw a dark limp figure tumbling off the balcony, nearly invisible in the shadows. He furled his wings and dove, praying he’d get to her in time.
He barely made it. He caught the woman in his front claws six feet above the ground and backwinged furiously to keep himself from crashing. He landed hard, breaking a bone in his left back foot, but she was alive.
He laid her gently on the ground. She was dressed in all black, masked like a cat burglar. Thorne turned back to human and examined her for injuries, but she seemed to be okay, just stunned.
Thorne peeled away her ski mask and looked down at her. She had a strong face, not conventionally pretty, maybe—the mouth was too broad and the features too bold.
But there was something about her…
Thorne sniffed, not believing what he was scenting. A faint residue of magical tracking dust.
He sat back on his heels, wincing at the pain in the broken foot. This must be the woman Zane had met in the vault the other night. She’d returned for the idol.
She hadn’t caused that spell explosion, though. If she had enough power for that, he would smell it all over her.
Thorne glanced up at the balcony. He could sense movement in the room beyond, and feel strange magic. Attackers?
He leaped upward, Changing to dragon form, and flew up to the balcony with two great flaps of his wings, hovering in the air. The room beyond was a wreck, spell books and ingredients and candles all tumbled off the shelves onto the floor. In front of the far wall was a jagged black oval about the size of a doorway, and two black-robed figures were staggering through, supporting a third.
Thorne Changed to human and darted inside, but he was too late. The figures disappeared into the black, and the portal shrank and vanished, leaving nothing but wreckage behind.
Thorne gave one quick look around, but the intruders were gone. He flew back down to his mystery woman.
There was no one there.
Rebel stumbled through the woods, grabbing onto trees and underbrush to keep herself upright. She was still feeling woozy—all she knew was that all hell had broken loose, and she had to bail.
The last thing she remembered was the magical explosion knocking her off the balcony, sure she was going to die. And then waking up lying on the terrace, with barely a scratch on her.
What the hell had happened? She’d bet money none of those crazy-ass sorcerers would have saved her, even if they’d been in a position to.
Was it the witch?
If so, why? And then, why just leave her there?
She heard faint sirens in the distance. First responders, checking out the explosion. They might find Jack Harper’s van parked down the road from the house, but they wouldn’t find anything to link it to her.
She’d parked her own car two miles from here, at the head of one of the hiking trails that crisscrossed the ridge, and walked from there. She wasn’t hiking that far right now, though. Her whole body ached, and her head was still ringing.
Rebel stuffed her ski mask in her pocket and pulled off her gloves, shaking out her hair. She’d walk to the nearest well-lit house and call an Uber from the driveway, pretending she’d been visiting there. With her burner cell and an Uber account under a fake ID, no one would ever trace it to her.
She’d get as far away from this crazy mess as possible.
Then she’d figure out what to do about that damn idol. And how to keep that psycho sorcerer from coming after her and her sister.