Married (37 page)

He used his magic to forcibly part the crowd before him and saw Tulah fighting a futile battle against Charles. Another Ngozi held her struggling mother, pulling her away from the table as she scratched and clawed at his arms until blood welled and splattered the white tablecloth. Adam flicked his fingers and sent a spell spinning in their direction.

Charles twisted Tulah’s hair around his hand and threw her against the table. He pressed close, leaning over her back as his hand disappeared between their bodies. Adam screamed from the depths of his soul, raw denial ripping from every pore as he crashed around the tables.

The bastard would rape Tulah, right there in the ballroom, surrounded by war and panicked crowds, just to stake a false claim before Muso rescinded the offer.

Tulah bucked, her head rising, wet caramel eyes locking with Adam’s in an eloquent plea. Her mouth moved and she winced. She jerked and struggled, making it hard for Charles to hold her down and fumble with his pants at the same time. Magic flew from Adam’s palm.

It gave him enough time to reach her. Adam dove over the table to catch Charles’ braids but then slid off, crashing to the floor without releasing his anchor. Charles’ head whipped back, his leg collapsed. Tulah spun away toward freedom.

Adam surged to his knee and pounded a fist into the man’s iron jaw. Charles snarled and shook it off. The Ngozi was bigger, brawnier, the perfect enforcer for someone of Graves’ criminal mindset, but Adam was quicker and his magic was stronger.

He used everything at his disposal. Energy shot from his palm to smash into Charles’ chest. The big man arched against the floor, teeth bared, eyes mere slits. A spell blasted out at Adam, taking him back to the floor.

He jumped up and kicked out but Charles swiped at him. Adam hit the floor again. He lifted his foot a second before the other man’s weight crashed down on him and caught Charles in the stomach. Air rushed from the man’s chest in an explosion of spittle. Charles hadn’t been prepared for the blow.

Need and vengeance, determination and self-worth were all on the line. The image of Tulah’s face, soft with satiation, her sinuous movements beneath his thrusting body, only added to Adam’s intent. The connection between them spurred him on. The stark lines of her features etched with fear every time Charles spoke to her whipped him into a frenzy.

Adam would kill the fucker.

Magic poured from him in heated waves. Charles snarled and growled, his body shaking as he staggered back. Adam climbed to his feet, circling the man, looking for an opening. His opponent spun and raised his hands into a defensive boxing position.

Charles didn’t seem to want to fight with magic. Most witches did. Adam dodged a fist and kicked out, drawing on a lifetime of serious combat training. He let his power flow down to the tips of his toes.

Charles went down and Adam took quick advantage, pinning him to the floor with a hasty spell. Adam swung his head, searching for Tulah. She weaved through the fleeing crowd, nearly swallowed in its tide while trying to maintain her stance as she watched Adam fight for her. Her face was twisted into lines of horror, her gold dress was crushed, torn and spotted with Charles’ blood. Adam felt the skin over his cheekbones pull tight under a new swell of fury.

He swung in the other direction. Muso and Graves were battling it out magically. Muso had a bloody nose, Graves’ lip was split, a red stream running over his chin to stain his torn tuxedo lapel. But Muso was slowing, losing his battle against Graves’ onslaught.

Daniel rushed around them, commanding them to stop. He stepped between them and was brought low by some spell. His body convulsed, anger and pain lighting his eyes and baring his teeth.

Adam felt the wind stir at his back. Charles. Adam ducked and spun, snapping back into his warrior focus. Adam would die before he let Charles find victory.

He slammed a fist into the other man’s stomach, but Charles was prepared. Adam’s knuckles met the solid rock of tensed muscle and pain spiraled up to his elbow. Ignoring it, he sent a bolt of magic spinning into his opponent’s body.

Charles’ face folded into lines of determination. His eyes flickered and glowed. His hands clenched rhythmically and a massive tendon popped out on his neck.

Adam felt the magic rising in his opponent. It was a hint of unfamiliar heat against the inferno of Adam’s own fury. He knew Charles must have realized that he couldn’t win physically, so he’d switched tactics. Adam was confident of his superiority in that sphere. With a flick of his pinkie, he sent the Ngozi man staggering back.

Before Charles could regain his balance, Adam spun behind him. With no remorse or hesitation, Adam grasped his opponent’s head. Braids slid over his knuckles like snakes as Adam twisted with every bit of strength in his arms. Magic erupted from his palms and something snapped in Charles’ neck.

Adam let the body fall to the floor.

Tulah threw herself into his arms immediately. Adam hauled her close, hands running over her as he evaluated the expression in her eyes. Fear and relief, a heart-wrenching combination. He looked beyond her. Only moments had passed, the guests were still jamming the doorway on their mad rush out. He looked closer, willing the berserker haze to ebb from his senses, and noticed the amassed escapees were all Levys.

Around him, Ngozis were fighting themselves.

“Get out of here, Tulah.” Adam barely recognized his own voice, the thrill of battle still humming in the deep tones.

She shook her head, clutching at his neck. “I can’t, they’re trampling each other. I saw two people go down and they haven’t gotten back up.”

He needed her away from the fight, safe from the danger. His sanity demanded nothing less than total protection. “Change form, honey. Be a cat and slip past them all.”

“My mother—”

Adam scanned the room. Tables were overturned, candles were tipped over as their flames guttered. Flowers littered the floor, trampled by the stampede. Silviu was across the room, blocking the press of Ngozi marauders from Madeleine who leaned against a wall, pale and wilted.

Georgie fought by their table, defending Margaret as the crowd struggled to push past. His cousin threw punches while Christiana pulled their aunt back. Ileana and Eliasz were pressed spine to spine, Ileana’s arms around Tulah’s mother as her betrothed smashed a chair over someone’s shoulder.

“Over there.” Adam set out across the ballroom with Tulah tucked under his arm.

They only made it a few steps when Graves rolled past them. In a flash, he was on his feet and sailing through the air to crash into his brother. Magic formed a dangerous cloud Adam was forced to retreat from. Muso cursed and the room wavered with his spell. Graves held on to the other man and screamed.

Dark light flared out around Graves in a malicious halo, twinkling with jewel-toned flickers. Muso arched, teeth clipping his bottom lip before he melted to the floor. Still locked on the Family Father’s shoulders, Graves followed.

Muso was only dazed. He fought to his knees, shaking his head. Graves pushed himself to his feet, hunched over and stumbling as he reached for his fallen walking stick. He lifted it like a bat and swung, the muscles of his biceps bulging through his tattered shirt.

Muso dove out of the way. The emerald struck the floor. Wood cracked, chips flew in every direction. A percussion of magic followed, shaking the room and pitching Adam and Tulah off balance. He grabbed her arm and dragged her across the dance floor at top speed.

Adam crashed to a stop in front of his cousin. “We need to get out of here.”

She barked a bitter laugh and swung out at an approaching Ngozi. “Have you seen the door?”

He pushed Tulah toward her mother and yelled at them both. “Change and get out of here!”

Her mother immediately dissolved, slipping through Ileana’s arms. Tulah stared at him with wide eyes filled with denial.

“Go, Tulah!”

Ileana grabbed Eliasz’s shirt and nodded toward the door. “The crowd’s not thinning, they’re in too much of a panic. We need to clear the way.”

Eliasz’s lips twisted but his jaw firmed. He looked to his left, and Adam followed his gaze to see Silviu fighting to help Madeleine cross the floor. The old woman stumbled against the wall, clutching at a banner for balance. “We’ve got to get her out of here,” Eliasz said.

Georgie looked around. “Eliasz, clear your Family from the door. Adam, get Margaret and Chris out. Then I can help Silviu without worrying about all of you.”

Adam backed up and nodded at Tulah. “Change, honey, please. Get out of here.”

Fear darkened her eyes as she clutched his shoulders. “I won’t leave you.”

“Yes, you will.” He pushed her to his side, naturally looking toward Georgeanne for further instructions.

His cousin’s eyes widened, her mouth dropped. She jumped at them, pushing them both with a strength born of pure adrenaline. Adam lurched back, blindly snatching at Tulah as she went flying.

Georgie landed in front of them with her arms outstretched. Dark magic slammed into her tiny frame, driving her back a foot. Immediately, she burst into flame the color of tar and twinkling with rubies.

She was consumed in the blaze.

Chapter Thirty-One

Georgeanne

Darkness swallowed her. The universe went silent around Georgie, cutting off the screams of the wedding guests and the curses of the Ngozi Family. All she saw were flickering ruby lights, all she heard was her own heartbeat.

Agony ripped through her as her skin peeled off one layer at a time. Her blood boiled and evaporated. Her muscles shriveled and caught fire. Her bones were reduced to ash under the awesome pressure of dark magic and her Bane imperviousness couldn’t protect her. She knew with terrible certainty that she couldn’t withstand the onslaught.

The silence was shattered by a spine-shaking scream. Rage, pain, indescribable fear—the sound roared and built higher, dragging on and on through her chest until it became a physical sensation and Georgie thought it would bring her to her knees. The sound echoed and rebounded in her skull as gold light spiraled up from the depths of her soul and wrapped around her.

The awful sound was the full fury of a Reap witch.

The Bane shield within her snapped like a rubber band. Vibrations shook her from the inside out while something hard and hot in her core shifted and swelled, then latched on to that primal scream and soaked it up. The Bane imperviousness fortified itself with the raw emotion threaded into that scream and grew strong enough that Georgie glowed with a hot, golden radiance that rivaled the sun.

The dark magic catapulted off the Bane shield and shot out of Georgie’s body. She felt a fierce tug deep in her center and it sent strength winging through her. She filled up like an empty vessel, but she didn’t know what filled her. She was remade, even as the darkness faded and the room returned.

Adam caught her as she fell back. Georgie looked up into his face as she struggled for breath and saw the shock riding him. The scream continued to roll around her, taking the shape and cadence of her name. Slowly, she turned her head, surprised by the pulse of pain in her neck.

Though he stood protectively in front of her grandmother, Silviu stared at Georgie with wide eyes, the promise of death flowing from his tense body in tangible sheets of magic.

Muso and Graves were statues. Daniel stared between her and Silviu, sweat rolling down his temples, a blue line of shock surrounding his lips. His throat worked, his eyes were blank. Constance huddled behind the head table with her parents.

Everyone else had come to a complete halt, frozen where they stood, trembling with an all-consuming fear. Total silence rooted the crowd. Glittering nets of magic traced the hollows of knotted muscles until every quivering witch in the room glowed. They’d been paralyzed in the act of obeying primal instincts, clutching at each other in a futile bid to find safety in numbers, their faces contorted into masks of terror and disbelief.

Silviu had shown his strength, and it was boundless.

“Fuck,” Adam breathed.

“It—” Georgie cleared her throat and willed her vocal cords to cooperate, “would have hit Tulah.”

“It would have killed her.” Adam’s voice was slurred and slow.

“Get them out of here.” Georgie pushed upright, swaying as she fought for balance.

“Did you hear him scream?” Adam shook his head, fear-filled eyes locked on Silviu. “There was magic in it. In a fucking sound. More than I ever thought a single witch could possess.”

“Get. Them. Out.” Georgie shoved at her cousin’s chest, forcing him to move.

He was still too dazed to understand. “She would have fucking died. I thought
you
fucking died.”

“We don’t have time for you to fall apart,” Georgeanne snapped. “Get moving!”

She staggered against the table, groping for her purse. It was on the floor, half hidden by a wilted bouquet of orchids. She ran her eyes around the room, taking in as much as she could, as quickly as possible. Her brain grew sharp, a honed weapon, as she pulled herself together.

There were fewer people at the door. Silviu had made them pause, had shaken them enough to stop their fighting and let them begin to slip out of the exit. Eliasz directed them, naturally commanding his Family and giving them a leader to obey.

Three bodies lay crumpled on the floor, victims of the mad dash toward safety. In the center of a heap of broken tables lay another body with long braids spread out around his head. Two Ngozis leaned against the far wall, blood pouring from their noses as their chests heaved.

Muso and Graves returned to life. Silviu protected Georgie’s grandmother as the Ngozi men crashed into each other, grappling with arms and spells. Neither had the physical advantage, but Graves’ magic was steadily winning against the Ngozi power Muso contained within him.

Graves had claimed his magic had been enhanced, and his personal magic was proving stronger than that of the entire Family bloodline. Georgie forced numb determination to extinguish a rebellious flicker of fear.