Magic Resistant (4 page)

Fingers moving deftly, she weaved the
complicated pattern while still holding onto the thyme between two
fingers.

“
Suppressio
” she said as she shaped
the magic and released it. The thyme swirled and danced in the air
before gently touching the troll. The effect was anything but
gentle.

Eyes widened and lips peeled back from nasty
yellowed teeth as his nightmare appeared before him. Guttural
whimpers the sole sounds he made as he fell backwards onto the
grass, crab-walking away from the horror consuming him. His club
lay forgotten on the ground.

Julia surveyed the battle. The imp harassed
Seraphina while roots held her in one place. The leaf guardian and
one of the trolls still on fire. Jackson was dodging flaming
branches, already taking a hit, his jacket torn and skin showing
through. Blood stained his sleeve. As he was freely moving his arm,
she assessed it as non life-threatening, though it probably hurt
like hell. One troll left and he seemed confused about how quick
they were losing the battle.

Exhausted from the flight through the forest,
from pulling energy for her spells and feeling the effects from the
magic induced sleep, Julia was close to empty. Her reservoirs
tapped dry, nothing but dust left.

This had to end.

Grabbing her blasting rod from its loop on
her belt, she waited a few precious moments until the three trolls
and the guardian moved closer to each other. Gathering as much
energy as she safely could, she focused it through the rod and
released it as an arc of pure concussive force.

It slammed into the four of them, causing
them to fly backwards several feet. The fire had finally consumed
the life from both the troll and the guardian. Their smoldering
bodies lay motionlessly on the ground. The remaining two trolls
sprawled senseless next to their kin, neither moving but alive.

Some of the force pushed her backwards a few
steps, causing her to lose her footing. In her haste, she awkwardly
stepped on an exposed root. Feeling a twinge of pain, she pushed
aside the ache, ignoring the distraction.

Julia had a moment’s sense of satisfaction
over her handiwork before exhaustion overtook her. Swaying, she
slid into a boneless heap. Darkness again greeted her for the
second time that day.

TIRED, ALMOST drained, he struggled to open
the portal. Drawing energy inward, he then directed it towards the
invisible doorway. A shimmering rip between the two worlds
appeared.

A swift glance over his shoulder showed
reinforcements pushing their way through the forest and into the
clearing. The ones still alive on the ground were pushing
themselves upright while the imp continued to harass Seraphina.
Once he left this plane, Xerix would be dismissed from its summons
and its essence would flow back into the ring.

Jackson knew he couldn’t continue to fight.
The last bit of his energy had gone into creating the portal. They
needed to leave now or die here.

Rushing to her side, he picked up the slight
woman and slung her over his shoulder fireman style and hurried
through the narrow opening. He disregarded the burning in his arm,
the pain negligible. The familiar queasy sensation caused by the
interplanar travel rapidly disappeared. However, the aches and
weariness from the battle did not. He didn’t know when he'd ever
felt so worn down. It’d been too long since he rested properly, a
full night sleep without waking up in a panic.

With a flick of his wrist, he closed the
doorway and jogged to the nearest parked car. The woman bounced on
his shoulder, her head flopping against his back. She’d need a
healing spell once she woke up.

Halting next to the car, he opened the door
and pushed her into the back. She slumped down with a little sigh,
fell over sideways onto the seat and remained still. A twinge of
guilt, his need to protect, protested over not buckling her in
safe, but dismissed it. A stupid move, staying in one spot. The Fae
opened the portals between planes with ease and while several were
banned from this world, many could cross the threshold.

Humid and sticky, the night air was
oppressive with heat. His shirt clung to him with sweat. The ripe,
cloying smell of decay and car exhaust filled his nose.

Overhead, tall buildings and streetlights
obscured the night sky, impossible to see any stars. The only
sounds were cats yowling and an occasion car driving on nearby
streets. In this part of the city, most people were in bed, good
little civilians unaware or uncaring of the dangers outside their
homes.

He glanced down the dimly lit alley. Garbage
littered the ground and the walls were so close he could reach out
and touch both without stretching. Not that he wanted to since the
walls were pretty slimy looking. Water dripped down, the brick worn
in several spots.

He'd scouted out the alley earlier yesterday,
knowing a portal to Fay existed here. Distance and time worked
differently in Fay than it did on Earth. While the portals were a
ten minute hike apart on the other side, he was now about a thirty
minute car ride away from the downtown office building. It was also
no longer early morning, but late evening.

If things went badly (which they had!), he
required an escape plan, a way to evade the Enforcers. He'd spent
weeks searching for portals which was why he’d been in the office
building in the first place. The rundown junker of a car he’d left
here for his getaway, knowing no one would steal it, and then
stashed all the necessities, including weapons, food, change of
clothes and extra cash in it.

He hadn’t counted on having a passenger with
him though. She was a huge complication to his plans.

Opening the driver’s side door, he slid into
the seat. Grabbing the seat belt, he buckled himself in while
starting the engine. A low-level hum of energy alerted him to the
activation of the portal. Wasting no time, he pulled onto the
street and headed south. As crazy as it sounded, his destination
was downtown Toronto. He knew they would track him to this spot and
he hoped they’d assume he took Highway 401 out of the city. Two
major city blocks south, it was a logical conclusion.

Traffic was insignificant at this hour, so
his sole frustration was all the red lights. On the other hand at
least they kept him from speeding and drawing attention to himself.
Impatient to get back to the hostel, he wanted to hole up and
figure out his next move, especially since he needed to decide what
to do with this woman. He glanced over his shoulder to check on
her.

Still unconscious and more or less on the
seat. A few rough stops had caused her to move closer to the edge.
Guess he better ease up on the breaks or she'd wake up with one
hell of a headache.

Finally, Jackson turned onto the side street
near the hostel and pulled into an empty parking spot. He fed the
meter a few dollars to get the maximum three hours. The car would
either be ticketed or towed once the time ran out, but he didn’t
care.

He'd bought it from a roadside sale in the
country, meaning he stole a "For Sale" car and left the cash in
their mailbox in an envelope. Then he switched the plates with
another car in case the owners reported it stolen.

Opening the back passenger side door, he
leaned in and hauled the woman into a sitting position. At least
with the late hour, most people were either in bed or at the clubs.
No one was around to notice him carrying her into the hostel.
Slamming the door with his hip, he used the fob to lock the car. No
need to have his emergency stash stolen.

Making his way unnoticed to his quarters, he
opened the door and gently laid the woman on the twin bed - the
only bed - in the room. He hadn’t expected company when he paid in
advance for this place. Once he had her tucked her and comfortable,
he left the room, locked the door and verified the wards were in
place. He had a misdirection ward set up to stop tracking spells,
along with a few others. Soon the Enforcers would realize they were
missing one of their own and he didn’t want them breaking down his
door. Satisfied everything was intact, he hurried off to gather his
emergency supplies.

Chapter Three

JULIA WOKE WITH a
pounding headache. This situation was becoming all too familiar and
it ticked her off. She didn’t audition for the role of the helpless
maiden. Growing up, she disdained stories of princesses and their
chronic need for a man to save them.

This ended now.

She turned her head, expecting the forest and
instead saw plain white walls. Her hands sunk into a thin blanket,
not grass and dirt. Dipping her chin to her chest, a hideous blue
and brown patterned blanket covered her. A lumpy mattress cushioned
her body and when she moved, it squeaked in protest.

Fighting off the panic rearing its nasty and
unprofessional head, she flung back the blanket and sat up. A bit
of dizziness assaulted her and she hoped standing wouldn’t be an
issue. Worry gnawed at her. Did anyone know where she was? What
plans did Jackson have for her?

A complication. A burden. An unknown
element.

At best, he would drop her off somewhere and
disappear. At worst... oh damn, she didn’t want to think about
that. A demon trafficker, capable of anything. She needed an escape
plan.

Her eyes roamed the room. On the small side,
it was an open area similar to a bachelor apartment. To her left,
an open door showing the sink and part of the toilet. Both white
and basic. The sink was the pedestal type, no extra cabinet space
underneath.

Across from the bed near the main door, a
kitchenette with a small section visible through the doorway. The
wall blocked her view of the fridge and stove. At least, she
assumed it came equipped with the major appliances. The wooden
cabinets lining the upper and lower areas gave it a homier
appearance. It didn’t match the rest of the cold, impersonal
room.

Right of the bed, past a small nightstand,
stood a tiny kitchen table and three chairs; one edge of the table
pushed against the wall. Perhaps that was the reason for odd number
of chairs. Or maybe a drunken brawl destroyed it. The tiny room
brought to mind a starving student's budget, loud parties and rowdy
nights.

Swinging her legs over the side of the bed,
she disregarded the sharp sting in her ankle. She stood and
crumpled to the floor when the pain became impossible to ignore.
She yelped as she fell, unable to contain the involuntary cry.

The door flung open, banged against the wall,
and Jackson filled the entry. Wary, he assessed the room and slowly
closed the door behind him. Relaxing a little, he tossed a duffle
bag to the side of the door when no immediate danger presented
itself. He prowled to the kitchenette and bathroom, scanning each
area before satisfied no menacing presence lurked.

“Are you okay? What’s wrong?” The concern
almost fooled her. His warm, liquid smoke voice wrapped around her,
begging her to trust him. Helpless to resist, she focused on his
lips and she fleetingly wondered what it’d be like to kiss him. His
lower lip fuller than the upper one gave him a hint of sensuality
and softness.

The intelligence gleaming in his eyes told
her not to trust him. He’d take advantage of her if possible. She
needed to keep her guard up. He was the enemy.

"Nothing. I’m fine.” Exposing weakness went
against everything she'd learned. Drilled into her to hide who and
what she was, it’d become habit to deny anything that didn’t make
her stronger in the eyes of another. If a mage thought she had some
power, they’d be less likely to realize she was resistant. And less
likely to execute her for something beyond her control.

Long blonde hair streaked with blood,
sightless eyes screaming at her to run.

Closing her eyes against the onslaught of the
decades old memory, she instead focused on the pain in her ankle.
Perhaps, if he thought her feeble, it would make escape easier. He
wouldn't watch her as closely.

“It’s my ankle. I can’t stand on it.” She
admitted with great reluctance.

Cautious, she watched him through her lashes,
unsure of his mood. He closed the gap between them, an unreadable
expression on his face as he studied her. Was he planning on
killing her, using her as a hostage?

Markus had warned her many times. Dangerous
and unstable, stay as far away from Jackson as possible. Well, that
wasn’t happening anymore.

He knelt beside her, his hand gentle as he
touched above her calf. She tried to pull away, but he held steady
as he then calmly placed his other hand on her ankle.

"Maybe heal the scratches on your face as
well." He murmured.

The tingle of energy from his attempted
healing washed over her, unable to penetrate through her magical
resistance.

Forcing down the resistance required
concentration. Picturing it as a brick wall surrounding her,
blocking her from the magical world, she'd removed it brick by
brick. Lowering the wall was the sole way magical healing worked.
However, even exposed, she never received the full effect like
everyone else.

Years of practice meant it took seconds to
drop the wall. Except she hadn't expected him to heal her. The wall
remained intact, cutting her off from his spell. Did he notice his
healing failed?

Trying to read him, a near impossibility
against a trained Mage Enforcer, the dark brown lashes framing his
deep brown eyes caught her attention. Any woman would’ve been
envious of them. He was so close to her she could see the faint
stubble on his strong jaw and the amber flecks in his eyes. His
mahogany hair was a little messy and in need of a trim. It curled
over his broad forehead and covered his collar giving him a sexy
just-out-of-bed look.

Shocked and horrified at her thoughts, she
bit the inside of her cheek and tasted blood. No, finding him
attractive, not an option. It was a betrayal of her Enforcer’s
oath. While she’d spent time committing his features to memory in
case she ever found him, not once had she consciously considered
his masculinity or how it would affect her.