Heart Strings (Black Magic Outlaw Book 3) (18 page)

 

 

 

 

I groaned under Kita's strength. Blood ran down my arm like water from an open faucet. I wiped my palm through the blood and clamped down on her wrist. The contact sizzled her flesh. Her eyes went wild, but she only pressed harder.

Her fan blade bit deeper into my arm. Right through my armor. Right through my zombie skin. Cutting to the bone. The pain was unbearable. Kita had to have been feeling something similar from my blood, but she was too close now. If this kept up, she'd slice clean through me.

"Do something," I grunted, turning to Em.

"Stay out of this, Emily," warned her sister.

Tears ran down Em's face now, but she didn't move. More conflicting behavior. Behind her, Ceela was barely aware of what was happening, fighting her own battle inside her head. The two men in the room, if you could call them that, stood eager. Tyson watched as one might the final seconds of a football game. And Connor Hatch was filled with awful glee.

A twanging pain raced up my left shoulder as I lost the feeling in my hand. My nerves were shot now. The shadow was gone. Still holding my forearm above my head, I released Kita's wrist and let the blood magic fall away. Then my free fist came up hard and fast into her belly.

Immediately, the force bearing down on me lessened. Kita's fierce demeanor was ever stubborn, but her eyes grew lazy. She furrowed her brow and stumbled backward.

I shoved away and hugged my wounded arm, securing the heartstone once more.

Kita Mariko coughed. The fan in her hands shrank down to normal size, and then it clattered to the floor, just bamboo and paper. Its golden aura winked out. The paper mage's hands clutched the ceremonial bronze knife protruding from her gut. Then she buckled to the floor.

Emily screamed and the bright light snuffed out. Tyson roared. My alligator boot kicked the candle on the floor away from me. Then I cupped both hands around the ruby heart and surrounded it with shadow.

"No!" screamed Connor. Emily kneeled by her sister. The elemental lumbered toward me.

Compressing shadow into something hard, something physical, is unnatural. To do it with the density I needed felt like fighting the pull of a black hole. But I was strong. I'd been around the block once or twice. I was at home in the shadow. And I needed this.

The orb of pure darkness attempted to escape my fingers. I squeezed harder. Once again gripping the heartstone, I let myself think of every single gross act that had been done in its name. Emily. Martine. My parents. My sister. I brought them all to bear on my conscience in an unrelenting weight.

And I shattered the hell out of that pansy artifact.

The ruby exploded, much of it impacting my chest and arms. The pain was nothing compared to what I already carried.

Connor's face was clear for one last, brief moment. He watched his entire house of cards topple. His empire, he called it. Service.

I didn't see nobility. I saw subjugation. Contempt. Panic. It was all etched into his sharp features.

And then he was gone.

Every candle in the mansion simultaneously winked out. The darkness encompassed us like a crypt.

Me? This was my element. It was more like a blanket.

I saw every detail as my eyes sucked in the black. Numerous heart strings flailed in the air. Without a power source, they withered and dissolved in seconds. In their absence, the Covey stood aimless. Confused. Ceela crumpled to the floor, exhausted.

I wasn't sure what would happen next. Destroying artifacts is a tricky business. The effort could easily have unintended results. But for their part, no one went into a rage and attacked me. With Connor gone, and his hold on them, they were purposeless.

I waited as their eyes adjusted to the faint light of the lava coursing through the volcanic elemental, and I wondered why he wasn't attacking me as well.

"Where am I?" choked out Kita. "Emily?"

I rose to my feet. "Oh no."

I hurried to the fallen paper mage. Blood spurted from her mouth and sprayed her older sister's face. Kita Mariko shuddered as she took painful breaths. I ran my hand under the collar of her jacket and felt the same neck I'd once held a knife to. It was bare, as I'd known.

"She's one of them," I swore.

"Emily?" asked Kita again, her eyes going distant, affixed to a far-off place. Em squeezed her sister's hand and leaned close.

"It's over, Kita," she said. "It's over."

Kita's body tightened and a final, racking breath fled her lips, and then she was gone.

I didn't know what to say as the sun crested over the horizon and filled the room with new light. The silence stretched into minutes.

"You killed her," whispered Emily.

She gripped her half sister's hand tightly, as if it were up to her whether she could let go or not. I almost spoke but a glint of light caught my eye. Around Kita's wrist was a thin bracelet with a heart-locket charm.

"You killed her," whispered Emily, once again.

"I didn't know," I offered weakly, clutching my bleeding arm. I backed away as Em refused to look at me. I'm not great with women, but I know when nothing I say could possibly help.

Ceela's human guise convulsed on the floor. I ran to the girl and ripped the locket from her neck. Then I carefully unwrapped the duct tape binding her wrists.

"How do you feel?"

"Like a used toothbrush," she said, shivering.

"Throok and I came for you."

"Throok?" Confidence spread through her like a drug.

I nodded. "He couldn't get past the Nether gate. I..."

She read the gloom on my face. "We need to help him."

Damn it. She was right. We had to get out of here, anyway. I wrapped the length of duct tape around my forearm, grimacing as I pulled the wound tight to stem the bleeding. After I was done, the cut was completely covered and sealed. I was a bloody mess, but what hadn't already leaked should now stay inside.

I returned to Kita's body, picking up the knife that lay beside her. She was dead, no two ways about it. I softly placed my hands on Emily's shoulders. "We have to go."

She shook at my touch. "I'm not going anywhere."

"Wizard," urged Ceela, leaning on the doorway. "We need to hurry."

I ignored her. "We can't stay here, Em. Who knows when he'll be back? He might bring help."

"I'm
not
leaving my sister."

I hissed. I wanted to throw her over my shoulder and drag her out, kicking and screaming.

Two heavy feet stopped beside me. It was Tyson Roderick, returned to his human form, the man in the white suit. "I'll take them," he said, dropping a broken heart locket on the floor.

His voice wavered as he spoke. Even an elemental like himself had to deal with the after effects of being a thrall. I wasn't sure if I could trust him, if he cared for anything in the Earthly Steppe, but something told me he'd be true to his word.

They knew each other well, after all. They were the Covey. What was alive of them, anyway. Free, but broken. There had to be kinship there.

Emily's safety was my main concern, of course. Tyson or not, I didn't want to leave her. I leaned over to her once more, words ready on my lips to convince her to come with me.

She lashed out viciously. "I can't deal with you right now!"

I drew back.

"Wizard," reminded the satyr.

My eyes met the elemental's. I thought of Throok and cursed. I told Emily I'd be back, but I wasn't sure if it came out louder than a whisper. Then I hurried out of the hexagonal room.

Ceela was still disoriented from the heartstone's pull. Whatever its effects had been, she'd fought it, never fully tamed. I wondered how long the effects would take to completely wear off, if the Covey could ever truly recover.

I thought of Emily's inconsistent behavior. It was very likely Connor had to deal with times of greater and lesser control, when Emily could've almost escaped his clutches until he resparked her passion and returned her to the fold without question. Maybe, with the leash gone, they would all be free for good. Or maybe the pull on her heart would still be forever present. Control was a bitch like that.

Ceela had only been exposed for a short time. Her withdrawals were mostly physical; she was dizzy and weak. I helped her down the patio steps, but she was determined to walk on her own after that.

"There it is," I said, pointing to the crab hole. "Will you be able to get through?"

"It depends if he bothered to ward the gate going both ways."

I jumped in first, actually managing to land in the Nether on my knees this time. The effort pulled open the cut on my arm, though.

The welcome face of the minotaur greeted me. Throok watched as Ceela's hooves daintily hit solid ground beside me. Surrounding us was a horde of dead spriggans. Their bodies were crushed, trampled, beaten, and gored six ways from Sunday. For Throok's part, he looked pretty beat up himself, even if most of the blood on him wasn't his own.

"Throok!" shouted Ceela in glee. She ran and threw her arms around him.

Already, I thought, she looked stronger. Whether it was the Nether or her natural form, I knew the principesse would be fine in a day or two. Plenty of bed rest and whatever passed for chicken soup down here, she'd be good as new.

Throok was different, though. He remained in the same blunt pose as before, not returning the girl's embrace. She noticed it too. The satyr pulled away and eyed him strangely. And then I heard chitinous laughter.

Grettle sauntered out of a side passage, dragging her extra pair of dead legs underneath. She was still missing a hand, but twisted Throok's kukri in another. A third guided a length of shining string. No—a line of web. It pulled taut against the minotaur, binding his arms to his side.

The spider witch grinned, but it wasn't her that spoke.

"Like flies in a web," remarked Orpheus, emerging into the tunnel.

 

 

 

 

Ceela recoiled from the minotaur. Throok's muscles rippled but his arms were bound to his sides. He attempted to step between the faun and the princess, but his legs were tied too. Without the satyr supporting his weight, he would've tripped.

"Orpheus," I grumbled, tightening the duct tape around my arm. "I've had a bad day."

"They'll get worse as the mark does," he rejoined. He tapped his boomerang against his curved horn. "But that's what you get for manhandling me, human."

"My hands are covered in blood. I could do it again."

Orpheus handed his weapon to Grettle. She took it with her last free hand and stood in my way, a bouncer preventing access to an exclusive silvan party. A bouncer with a sword, a boomerang-hatchet, a web, and a stump. Just to make the point that it wasn't a nice party, she pointed the kukri at me.

I assessed the situation. Throok was tied up. Ceela still disoriented. Me? I'd live. My supply was cashed, but I still had blood and shadow. There was always plenty of that in the world. For now, I bided my time, waiting for an opening.

"Wizard," chided Orpheus. "This is Nether business. I am a baron of Bone, she a principesse of Juniper. Leave the politicking to us."

The faun stroked his scraggly beard as he rounded Throok. He ignored the larger silvan completely, turning all his attention on the object of his desire. A toothy grin overtook his goat face, and his pointed ears relaxed.

"There you are, my dear." His voice was soft now. Gentle. "Do not worry. I will not mistreat you." He took her hand in his. Grettle hissed lightly.

"Don't hurt him!" cried Ceela, her eyes watering.

The faun's brow furrowed. "Him? You are concerned for him?" Orpheus considered the minotaur and nodded. "Fine, my love. Whatever you ask. He shall be released when we depart."

Grettle spun to him, producing her stump hand. "He maimed me, my lord."

Orpheus sighed. "Yes. We will see what we can do about that."

"We can
eat
him," she insisted. "You told me I could have them both."

"No!" said Ceela, her thin chest heaving.

Orpheus tightened his lip and held out his hand. "My hatchet, dear."

Grettle smiled and placed the bone weapon in his hand. The faun hefted the familiar weight and deftly snapped the web connecting the spider witch to her prey. Throok was still bound but no longer leashed. With the sudden absence of resistance, he lost his balance and fell on his shoulder.

"But Orpheus!" screeched the witch.

"I will not hear it!" he snapped. The witch shied away from his tone. "The principesse is my betrothed and I will respect her wishes." He turned to address Throok. "The bindings will dissolve in a short time. When they do, see that you do not follow us. The Circle of Bone would not welcome your presence."

Ceela watched Throok with shimmering doe eyes as the faun pulled her away. Grettle scoffed heartlessly as she towered over him. She looked me over, too, bulbous eyes filled with depravity and wickedness, mandibles salivating from her desire to eat my flesh.

"Come, my love," whispered Orpheus to Ceela, kneeling before her and kissing her hand.

Grettle turned, and all the hate festering in her eyes before was nothing compared to what surfaced now. A high-pitched cry seeped from her throat and filled the cavern. Then the spider witch lunged.

It was quick and dirty. A moment of unbridled passion and fury. Grettle lifted the kukri high and brought it down towards Ceela's turned head. Throok jerked in his bindings. I dove into shadow and dashed forward—but even I was too slow. I rematerialized behind the spider witch at the end of her blow.

Only her blow never landed. The kukri was flung wildly and staked into the dirt. Grettle's arm was still attached, resting beside it. A large gash ran across her chest leading to the severed shoulder. Orpheus stood between his princess and his witch, hatchet held low, painted with black blood.

For a moment, the spider witch balanced on four legs. Then, as she folded to the floor, Orpheus caught her and laid her gently on her back.

Grettle's eyes shrank and her jaw closed, taking on her more human appearance. Pale, lanky, dirty. She spat out blood as she stared into the faun's face. "I..." she rasped, forcing her eyes to focus. "I do not blame you." Then her head went limp.

The baron closed her eyes and waited a long moment, shutting out the rest of the world. Out of a strange deference, no one moved.

"She loved me, you know," he said softly. "But I love another. And so it goes."

Ceela was white as a ghost, still jolted by her close call. Somehow she summoned the courage to speak. "You can't dictate the heart, Orpheus," she said compassionately, eyes trailing to Throok. When he met her gaze she seemed to grow taller, her conviction steadying. "Just as you love me, so too do I love another."

She knelt beside the minotaur and unraveled the weakening web. Throok ripped away the remnants and the two silvans kissed.

Orpheus waited until their embrace was done, rested his hand one last time on Grettle, and stood with a sigh. "You will dishonor the Oak Table with that wedding. Instead of forming a political alliance, you will foment a war."

The minotaur stood and puffed his chest out. He took a step forward and growled.

Ceela placed a dainty hand on his chest. "Love is a cause worth fighting for."

"And should I not as well?" returned Orpheus.

She shrugged. "If you wish. Just realize that the only one fomenting war is you."

I'd never realized how regal Ceela looked before. I mean, she was still a kid. She had a lot to learn, but I had no doubt she would learn it.

I retrieved Throok's sword and tossed it to him, mainly 'cause I felt pretty useless so far. He held it ready at his side. I was ready for anything too, but Orpheus was done fighting. He was outnumbered and introspective. His love for the satyr, if that's what it was, would never be returned. And now the one who
had
loved him was lost forever.

"You cannot win me," said Ceela. "You cannot earn me in time." The satyr's voice rose and I perked my ears at the oncoming silvan justice. "It was never about your status or exploits, Orpheus. It was about you, and me, and how we felt for each other. The best you can do is find a place beside us at the Oak Table."

Take that. I blinked. "Wait. You're gonna let this guy join you?"

She shrugged. "It's a smart alliance, Cisco. One that is clearly already desired by both circles. Besides, it comes with a price." The satyr turned to the faun baron. "Remove the curse on the wizard. Let him free. He was merely doing as I beseeched, and attacking him is like attacking myself."

Orpheus nodded glumly. "A day, a night. Consumed by blight. Come from the dark, free of the mark. It is done, human."

The black mark itched. The crust turned to dust and fell away. The discolored stain beneath shriveled until it was nothing. My hand, my skin, the tattoo—they were fine. Back to normal.

I shook my head. My life was an addendum to a silvan alliance.
This
is why I hate the Nether.

"We should get moving," said Throok, all business.

The principesse nodded and turned to me. "Will you accompany us to our dominion?"

"I..." I rubbed my face. "I can't. I have business on Fire Island. But you can't stick around down here with..." I pointed my eyes at Orpheus even though he could plainly see my face. He sighed loudly.

"Wait a minute," I complained, not willing to let this slide. "Is that it? We're supposed to pretend nothing happened? We all just shake hands and say our goodbyes?"

"Goodbyes," grumbled the minotaur in a dour voice. A grin hid beneath his snout as he offered his hand. "I
hate
goodbyes."

I answered his grip with mine. "The smile doesn't suit you, bud."

He grew serious. "Thanks for your service to the principesse."

Ceela stood on her tiptoes and kissed me on the cheek. "The Juniper Circle is grateful, wizard."

The young couple started down the tunnel. I waited. I told myself I was making sure Orpheus didn't trail them, but the truth was I didn't know what to do. My immediate concerns were handled and I was left feeling a little stunned. I stared at the new skin on my hand, wondering about fresh starts.

Orpheus whistled and several spriggans stomped from their passage, eyeing me warily. At his command, they lifted the spider witch's body and carried it away. Orpheus followed them, heavy of heart, parting words trailing behind him.

"The Nether mark is gone, wizard, but I cannot absolve you of the deaths on your hands. The mermaid, Gemma—she lusts for your blood. And I cannot dissuade her course."

"That much I understand," I said, Kita Mariko's dying face etched into my memory. "They're not the only pair of sisters I've broken up."