Crimson Wind (6 page)

Giselle’s mouth twisted, and then she turned and stalked out. Xaphan winked at Max, then followed.

Alexander slid his chair back and stood.

“Going somewhere in particular, Slick?” Max asked, using her favorite nickname for him.

“Yes,” he said, and strode after Giselle.

“Hey, Slick.”

Alexander turned in the doorway, his expression carefully neutral. He wanted to tear someone in half, and right now, Max was the one he wanted to hit most.
He’s pretty to look at.
Like he was a boy toy. She had dismissed him without a thought, and it churned in his gut. But he would be damned if he let her see the effect she had on him. At least, not until he had her alone on the road. Then they would settle things.

“When you’re done chatting with Giselle, I want to see you.”

“Do you?” he asked, and walked away. He was not bound to Horngate, and she had no right to command him. He would see her when he got around to it.

GISELLE HAD NOT GONE FAR. SHE WALKED BY HERSELF, although she was wobbly. Xaphan paced behind and to the side. He turned as Alexander approached, his wings flaring protectively in front of Giselle. He said nothing.

“I want to talk to her,” Alexander said.

“Let him through,” Giselle said.

Xaphan hesitated, then lowered his wings and stepped aside. “Your funeral,” he told her.

“Alexander isn’t going to hurt me, are you?” she asked. She motioned him to accompany her inside a small sitting room. A dusty assembly of chairs, couches, tables, and shelves was stacked against one wall. Wide cracks zigzagged across the walls and ceiling. The room was still waiting for repair.

He glanced over his shoulder. “I would rather we were not heard,” he said.

Her brows rose, but she scraped a wide circle in dust on the floor with her foot and stepped inside. He followed suit. She bent and drew a sigil, and power flickered around them.

“No one will hear,” she said, crossing her arms as she watched him. “What do you want?”

He rubbed a hand over his mouth. This was absolutely a bad idea. Still, he did not have a better one. “Magpie came to see me.”

Giselle stiffened, her eyes hardening. “What did she say?”

“She said I would get my heart’s desire. And that I would be Prime.”

The witch did not say anything for a long moment. Instead, she paced slowly inside the circle, her brow furrowed. She looked at Alexander. “I don’t want you to be Prime. Not here.”

“Neither do I.”

Her brows rose. “I wish I could believe that. You could be useful here.” She frowned again. “But you knew I wouldn’t. You knew telling me would make me want you dead, just to be sure. What’s your game?”

“I want a place here. That is my heart’s desire. So I am going to go with Max to California, and I will keep her alive and bring her back. When I do, it should prove I can be trusted. So I will want you to bind me.”

“Or what?”

He shrugged. “I will think of something.”

Like threaten Max.
He could see her racing to the conclusion. He did not bother to contradict her; she would not believe him.

“So this is blackmail? I’ll have Xaphan burn you to a crisp the moment you walk into the hall.”

“It will not work. Magpie’s prophecies always come true,” Alexander countered. “She told me so. Therefore, I must become Prime.” The words were like hot lead on his tongue. He must become Prime. But he could put it off for a hundred years—a thousand. Shadowblades did not die naturally—they had to be killed. All he had to do was keep Max alive.

“She runs after trouble like starving sharks after blood,” Giselle pointed out.

“Yes. No doubt that will make the trip more interesting for me. But I will keep her alive.”

She cocked her head at him. “I’m curious about one thing. Why haven’t you voluntarily bound yourself to Horngate as Thor and the angels did?”

“What would be the point? Unless you want me, any oath I make is meaningless, not to mention stupid. I would be chained here, unable to leave.”

“It could be taken as a sign that you want to be here.”

He bared his teeth in a snarl. “I nearly killed myself defending this covenstead from Selange and from the angels. Surely that tells you that I want to be here.” The words were hot and hard.

“Or it tells me you are very clever. Selange could be trying to plant you inside my covenstead to spy.”

He snorted. “You really believe that? She cut my bindings and kicked me out. She does not want me any more than I want her.”

“Your loyalty to her is underwhelming.”

“Is that it? You want me to be more loyal to her? Despite all she has done to me?” He crossed his arms, looking down at her, his gaze hard and unrelenting. “This is not about me at all, is it? It is about Max. You have tortured her for thirty years, and you fear she will turn on you. After all, if I turned on Selange, who treated me reasonably well by comparison, then what might Max do?” He shook his head. “You are stupid if you think she would betray Horngate. She is not capable, no matter what you deserve.”

Giselle’s lips pulled tight. The corner of Alexander’s mouth quirked up with malicious humor. He had hit close to the heart of the matter.

“You want to protect her from me, but who protects her from
you?
” he asked softly.

“Careful. Remember who you are talking to,” Giselle said, her cheeks spotting red.

He grinned, feeling his Prime pushing for escape. “Or what? You will kill me? You could have done so any time in the last four weeks. You want me here. You want me serving Horngate. With the Guardians attacking all over the world, you need all the warriors you can find. I am an asset.”

“You are,” Giselle agreed. “But only if you don’t challenge Max. You are a Prime. How could you be content serving when you could lead?”

“Before long, Niko, Tyler, and Thor will step up to Prime level. What will you do then?”

“None of them could win a challenge against Max,” Giselle said with a dismissive wave of her fingers.

“But I could.”

“Very possibly.”

“I do not want to. I am content to follow her.”

“I’d like to believe that.”

“How do I prove it to you?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know. Figure something out. Bringing her back from California alive is a start.”

Something in the way she said it made his skin go cold. “You are hiding something. What?”

She stared at him a long moment and then gave a little nod. “My visions refuse to show me how things will turn out. They have never been so disjointed. What I do get are fragments. I don’t know when anything will happen or what the pieces mean, except that you and Max are together and you are fighting someone or something.” She licked her lips. “One vision in particular bothers me. It involves a living void.”

“A living void?” Alexander repeated, frowning. “What do you mean?”

She folded her arms, rubbing her skin as if cold. “It is the opposite of life. A feeling of sterility—of complete annihilation. I think—” She broke off, looking at him warily. She came to a decision. “I think the Guardians have let loose something they didn’t intend to. They wanted to bring back the balance of magic to the world, but I think they brought back something else, too. Or it’s coming. I can’t tell. Whatever it is, it’s dangerous. Worse than that. You’re going to run into it.”

“And?” There was more. He could tell. “You did not tell Max this.”

Giselle gave a jerking shake of her head. “I think she gets killed. You have to prevent it.”

Alexander felt like she had punched him in the gut. His Prime exploded, driving out anything but the need to hunt and kill. It was a wild, primitive feeling. Max
could not
 die. The thought of it was so full of pain it nearly dropped him to his knees.
What the hell?

He had no time to consider the burst of feeling. He carefully stepped back from Giselle as Xaphan filled the doorway. The angel could kill him easily, and he would if he thought Alexander was threatening Giselle.

“Are your visions always true? Like Magpie’s?” he demanded hoarsely.

The witch shook her head. “Sometimes. I can usually tell if an event is fixed or if it can be changed. Not this time.” She stared at him, her eyes cold. “Stop it. Or don’t come back.”

She hesitated. “One more thing. I don’t like blackmail.” Then, with a movement that was as sharp and fast as a cobra strike, she flicked her fingers at him.

A hard ball of black magic struck him in the chest and sent him staggering backward. The magic permeated Alexander’s chest and exploded inside his ribs. He gasped and convulsed, his arms and legs jerking wildly. His back arched as the shards of magic whirled like a hurricane of glass inside him. He dropped to the ground. His heart and lungs shredded, and blood filled his throat and ran from his nose. He choked and fought for breath, pain racing through him like a forest fire.

Then, just as suddenly as it had begun, the hurricane inside him turned to something different. He felt the magic soften and heat. His flesh mended, the blood draining into its proper channels, his heart and lungs coalescing back into themselves and starting to beat and pump as they should.

He panted, every muscle quivering with the aftermath. Still, he refused to show weakness. He levered himself to his feet, bracing his legs wide and facing Giselle defiantly. He smelled Niko, Tyler, Max, and Thor as they came into the room, the ward of silence keeping him from hearing their footsteps.

Giselle was watching him with cold implacability. Magic curled in her eyes like ribbons of smoke. His stomach clenched. Even this depleted, she still had deep reserves of power.

“Never forget what I can do to you,” she warned.

“That?” He shook himself. “Cleared my sinuses is all. Surely you can do better.” He wiped the blood from his nose with the back of his hand.

She smiled. “Don’t tempt me.” She glanced past him, then back. “One last thing. Did Magpie’s prophecy say anything else?”

“Yes.” He walked out of the ward circle. He scanned the others, his gaze lingering a moment on Max.

She eyed him with that thousand-yard stare he hated. She was so far from him at the moment that she might as well be on another planet.

“What was that about?” she asked.

“Meeting of the minds,” he said, and headed past her toward the door.

“Remember I want to see you, Slick.” Her voice was edged.

“Yeah? Take a picture.”

He turned and left.

Chapter 5

DAMN. THAT LOOKED LIKE IT HURT,” NIKO SAID, following Alexander. “Glad it wasn’t me.”

“Me, either. What do you think he said to deserve it?” Tyler asked as he joined them.

“Maybe he told her she was fat.”

“Or that she looks old.”

“Never good to say to any woman,” Niko said. “Even if it’s true.”

Alexander ignored them. He needed to think, to calm his Prime, and to figure out just what the hell he was going to do next. His fingers clenched. He felt like ripping something apart. He glanced over his shoulder. Niko and Tyler were exchanging knowing looks. Alexander turned forward before they saw him. So it was going to be an attack, was it? What did they want from him?

He headed for his quarters. The two Blades continued to trail behind him. After a while, they fell silent. Alexander turned a corner. Now, he thought. Now they spring the trap.

Niko snatched his shoulders and slammed him against the wall. Before Alexander could react, Tyler dug the point of a knife into Alexander’s ribs above his heart. Blood trickled down his side.

Alexander did not move, reining himself in. These were his brothers now, and Horngate could not afford to lose either of them. Still, they needed a lesson in manners, and he meant to give them one. Just as soon as he learned what they wanted.

“Here’s the deal, Slick,” Niko said, using Max’s nickname for Alexander. From her, it was annoying. From anyone else—intolerable. He hissed and his muscles flexed. Tyler’s knife jabbed deeper.

“I will make you very sorry,” Alexander rasped past Niko’s grip on his throat.

“Easy, now. Don’t get ideas,” Tyler said. “You won’t heal so well if I hack your heart into stew meat.”

“We just want you to be very clear about the rules of your trip to California. If Max doesn’t come back alive, then you’d better be sure you don’t, either. And just so you don’t get any bright ideas, we want your promise on that. Understand?”

Alexander did. It was an oath he could give easily, but he was in no mood to indulge these two. It was time to take them to school. He gave a minuscule nod.

“Good,” Niko said, and released his grip a fraction, enough to let Alexander speak freely. “Get to it.”

Their first mistake was thinking that they could force him. Their second was forgetting that he was telekinetic.

With a thought, he twisted the knife out of Tyler’s grasp, sliding it back to slice the tendons of the other man’s hand. In the same moment, he kicked Niko’s left knee, shattering it with a wet, crunching sound. He grasped the hand clutching his throat and twisted, snapping Niko’s wrist.

Tyler lunged, coming in low. Alexander whirled as he struck, gripping his elbow and flipping him over his hip and slamming him to the floor. Tyler rolled smoothly to his feet, and now Alexander was between his two attackers. Clever. Both darted in. Niko’s injured leg dragged, but it hardly slowed him. Such were the Blades that Max trained.

Alexander whipped a roundhouse at Niko, kicking him in the jaw before the other man realized he had moved. He clobbered Tyler in the head with a downward jab. Then he was dodging and weaving as the two kept coming. He was never where they expected. More than once, he lured them into punching the stone wall. Bones crunched and blood spattered.

It was a beautiful, violent dance, and Alexander found himself smiling fiercely as he twisted and lunged with velvet fluidity. This was what he was made for.

Niko and Tyler were worthy adversaries, and soon he saw that they were smiling, too. They attacked again and again. Although Alexander took some punches and kicks, he gave better than he got. At last, both of his opponents were lying on the ground. Tyler’s eyes were black and nearly swollen shut. His nose was broken, and his mouth was pulpy. He was panting. Niko did not look much better. He sat up slowly and eyed Alexander with careful respect.

“Nice moves.” His voice was slurred. He rubbed the side of his jaw. There was an imprint of Alexander’s boot rising on his skin and another around his neck from a Brabo choke. “Wouldn’t mind learning a few of those.”

Tyler rolled onto his side with a groan. “When did you get so damned fast?”

“I always have been.”

“You’ve been holding out,” Niko said.

Alexander could hear the suspicion in his voice. He sighed. “You saw me with Tutresiel this morning. I held nothing back with him. Before that, I wished to be welcomed here, and you already distrusted me. It seemed smarter not to add more fuel to your fire. But you know that I was Shadowblade Prime. It should come as no surprise that I have skills.”

“We saw you with Tutresiel, sure, but you see things better when you’re the one getting hit. You’re faster than Max,” Tyler said as he clambered to his feet. He staggered to the wall and leaned against it.

“I might be.” Alexander watched them carefully in case they decided to renew the fight. “Is that a problem?”

“Depends,” Niko said as he stood.

“On whether you think I am loyal to Horngate?”

“On whether you are. And whether you plan to challenge for Prime.”

“Max would say that whoever was strongest should take it.”

“Maybe, but strength—and speed—aren’t everything. Brains, instinct, heart, loyalty—they matter, too. And Max is neither weak nor slow,” Tyler said.

“Then she will win. So there should be no problem, should there?”

Neither man said anything. There were no guarantees, and Alexander was a threat. That was why they had come after him in the first place, and their fight had only demonstrated how much of a threat he was.

The corner of Alexander’s mouth twitched upward. Max, as much as Giselle, was the heart of Horngate. If Alexander took Prime—presuming that he could, and he had his doubts about that—none of her Blades would follow him. He knew it without a doubt. Just as he knew that Giselle would not suffer him to live.

But he had no intention of challenging her. Neither did he intend to grovel to make these two or anyone else believe him. They would just have to figure it out on their own.

He glanced down at his swollen, bloody hands and flexed his fingers. “So do you want to start again, or are we done?”

“We’re done,” Niko said, rubbing his jaw again. “For now.”

“Anytime you want another go at me, I am ready. Now, if that is all, I am going to go clean up.” He started to turn but stopped when Niko spoke again.

“You know, someone might think you’ve got your panties in a twist over Max,” he said, spitting to the side. “You’re not exactly acting like someone who’s after the Prime job.”

Alexander snorted. “No kidding. Have I not been telling you so?”

“Could be an act,” Tyler said. He was leaning over with his hands on his knees, his breath sounding liquid. He was bleeding inside.

“Could be. But I do not need to prove myself to you.”

Niko smiled slowly. “No. But it’s awfully fun to dance together.” He rubbed his chest. “Hurts a bit, though.”

Alexander stared, then chuckled, feeling the Shadowblade inside him retreating. “You are a fucking bastard.” He glanced at Tyler, who had found his knife and was wiping it on his pants leg. “Both of you.”

Niko grinned. “So they say. Don’t see it myself. Women love me.”

Tyler snorted.

Niko turned and started limping up the corridor. Alexander fell in beside him. Tyler came along more slowly.

“How much do you have to pay them before they love you?” Alexander asked.

Niko put a hand over his heart. “You hurt me. I am simply adorable, and they can’t resist me.”

“Adorable as a black widow spider, maybe.”

“Compared to Max, I’m a kitten. I almost feel sorry for you.”

Alexander grimaced. “Me too. But I would not bet against me. I mean to win.”

“She beat you once already,” Tyler pointed out. “That’s how you got here in the first place.”

Alexander glared over his shoulder. “I remember. But this time, I am more motivated. She is the prize, after all.”

“She is at that,” Niko said. He stopped and held out a battered hand. “I’ll wish you luck. You’ll need it.”

Alexander stared a moment, then grasped the proffered hand. “Imagine that. Miracles do happen,” he murmured.

“So I’ve heard. Like angels serving a witch. Or a Prime deciding he doesn’t want to be that anymore.”

“Do not make that mistake. I am a Prime, and I always will be. It was stupid to pretend otherwise. But Max is Horngate’s Prime, and I do not plan to try to change that. Just as when you and Tyler rise to Prime, you will not try for it. Or am I wrong?”

Niko drew back with a frown and then nodded. “Nope. Not a snowball’s chance in hell.”

“She’s our Prime. End of story,” Tyler said flatly.

“Then we understand each other at last.”

“Yeah. I guess we do,” said Niko.

“I would take it as a personal favor if you would enlighten the others while I am gone. I would rather come back to friends than enemies.”
If
he came back.

“We’ll make it happen. Just take care of our girl.”

“All that I can get away with before she kills me,” Alexander agreed.

Niko grinned. “I don’t envy you. She’s been in a foul mood.”

“And I make it worse. I can hardly wait.”

He turned up the corridor to his apartment. He ached from where their punches and kicks had landed. They’d broken his ribs in at least three places, and he was pretty certain that his right shin was cracked as well. He went into his bathroom, rinsing the dried blood from his face. Niko had broken his nose, and there were swiftly closing cuts on his forehead and along his cheeks. Bruises splotched his lower back, chest, and arms. He’d be mostly right in a few hours, but their wounds were more severe and would take longer to heal. Satisfaction made him grin.

It faded abruptly as he recalled Max’s family. He squatted down and opened the undersink cupboard. Reaching back under the bowl, he felt for the hole where the pipe ran back out of the cabinet. He reached behind and hooked a string that was attached to the pipe and carefully fished out the phone tied to the end in a crude net. He unfastened the phone and dropped the string in the wastebasket. If anyone searched his apartment while he was in California, they wouldn’t find anything damning.

He turned the phone on and saw that there were two dozen text messages and one voice message. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Most of the messages were from his network of contacts in the magic world. They were the reason he had bought this phone and kept it hidden. They were too valuable to lose, but he knew that Max and Giselle would think it too risky for him to keep a phone number he had had when he was with Selange. Or they would think he was still working for her. Either way, if they found the phone on him, he was dead.

He punched in a number. It rang three times, then went to voice mail. “It is Alexander,” he said. “I am looking for information on magic activity in Winters, California. I need all you can tell me as soon as you can. Send a text.”

He pressed the End button and glanced again at the messages. They could wait. He dialed his voice mailbox and punched in his password. There was only one message. Valery. He stiffened, his breath catching in his chest. Magpie was right. The only reason for Valery to call was that she had found the Amengohr amulet.

The rich tones of her voice filled his ears and rolled through his body like a caress. “Alexander, my sweet. I have found it at last. Do not take too long to call me back. It will not remain where it is for long.”

He replayed the message. She really had found it. Alexander reeled. He had never believed she really could. Not even after Magpie’s prediction. And now—

He stared unseeing at the wall. What did he do now?

The amulet could give him the power he needed to keep Max safe. But he did not have time to go get it. And even if he did, Giselle had seen her die.

Once again, violent emotion crashed over him. He shuddered as it swept him up. He was drowning. He was burning up. He was falling off a cliff. He dragged his fingers through his hair, sucking in a painful breath as he fought for calm. Ever since Magpie’s visit, he’d been thinking of how he could keep Max safe, although the chance of her dying had hardly registered. He could not really wrap his mind around it. She was too vibrant, too smart, and too strong.

Giselle had seen her die.

You will be Prime.

The two ideas collided in his head like two semi trucks. Giselle was not sure that her vision was true. It could not be true. But then how else did he become Prime?

Alexander stood mechanically, setting the phone down carefully on the counter. It was all he could do not to let his Blade go on a rampage. But he needed to stay in control. He needed to think. He drew a long, slow breath.

Giselle’s vision might not be fixed. So he could change the outcome. He brought his battered fist down hard on the countertop. Cracks webbed across it. He would change it. He was not going to lose her, not now, when he had just realized how badly he wanted her. Needed her.

Abruptly, he stripped away his bloody pants and underwear. Every muscle in his body was clenched tight. He was not ready to feel this way. It was stupid. It was insane. And yet he wanted Max like he had never wanted another woman in his life. He grimaced at himself in the mirror. Of all the women to choose—she was thorny, foul-mouthed, reckless, and as hard as tempered steel.

And just thinking of her made him ache with want.
Damn.

He stepped into the shower and washed the blood from his skin, then stepped out, dried himself, and dressed in a pair of black jeans and a black turtleneck he pulled from the wreckage of his dresser. He found his duffel in the closet and stuffed spare clothing into it, followed by his emergency kit, which included a light-sealing tent, a box of power bars, a healing salve, two spare combat knives, a .45, a .9mm, a dozen full magazines of both shot shells and regular bullets for each gun, two window- and door-sealing kits, two quarts of orange Gatorade, and a set of bandages.

He looked around the room. He owned next to nothing. He had left everything at Aulne Rouge, his former covenstead. All he had now were the clothes he had bought and the phone that he had tossed on the bed. He stared at it.