“I don’t know what to do,” I said. “I’ve never done a spell like this on my own. Nathaniel’s the architect. I just put power into whatever he designs. The only thing I know how to do on my own is destroy. And you need to let me go because I have to help him. He’s bleeding from the inside. He’s going to die if I don’t do something.”
Nathaniel had almost died once protecting me, when I’d killed Azazel and the result had triggered a violent explosion of magic. But back then I hadn’t cared about him. He’d been an unwanted bodyguard, a replacement for Gabriel who could never replace my husband.
Now he was something else to me. I wasn’t sure what that something was, or what I wanted him to be, but I wasn’t going to lose him five seconds after we’d argued about this very thing. I wasn’t going to stand over another bleeding body knowing that my enemy had taken someone else from me.
I know how to do a healing spell. Gabriel taught me that much, Samiel signed. But you’ve got to protect us. You’ve got to protect your baby.
It was hard to think when part of me was panicking, picturing Nathaniel in his death throes on the bed where we slept together. It was hard to accept that Samiel could fix this when I needed to do it myself. I needed to see with my own eyes that Nathaniel would be all right.
And as I thought this, I felt a questing thread of power swirling around me, seeking, hunting. It wanted me. It wanted to destroy me and my child.
I didn’t think. I pushed my own power out, against the thing that shouldn’t be here, that shouldn’t be able to violate the sanctity of my home but somehow had.
The other’s magic resisted. It pressed back against my will, and the resistance hurt. This magic was a strange and alien thing. It was not the product of its own will but another’s, and as such it wasn’t affected by emotion as I was. The shifter had been told to do something and it would exert whatever force necessary to achieve that task.
I pushed harder, drawing deeper into the reserves of my power but not dipping into the well of darkness. I didn’t know what might happen if I tapped into my black heart when I was in my present confused emotional state. There was a good chance that I wouldn’t have control over my magic, and then I might end up destroying us and everyone on the block in an effort to keep the shifter out.
On the upside, the shifter problem would be solved.
I exerted more will, more magic, pushing against the shifter’s power. I needed to get that thread out so I could seal up the house. The shifter’s spell receded against me, and I could actually feel it draw its attention away from Nathaniel to me. The spell crept toward me again.
But Nathaniel is safe, I thought. The knowledge that the shifter was no longer killing him by degrees while I fought its magic helped me relax, helped my own magic flow more freely. I gave a great push with my power, envisioned it shoving the shifter’s spell out of the house.
The creature did not expect the sudden surge, and its magic seemed to rear back for a moment. That allowed me to send my own spell around the house like a protective bubble. I slumped against the wall, panting with effort. It shouldn’t have been that difficult to get rid of the shifter. I had enough magic to kill some of the most powerful creatures that had ever walked the Earth.
Too much of myself was bound up in the darkness now, I realized. By not accessing that part of my power, I was cutting myself off from my strength.
I noticed Samiel had left the kitchen, and Beezle was sitting on the counter watching me.
“I saw some of that,” he said. “Didn’t expect something so low could give you so much trouble.”
“I didn’t expect it, either,” I said. “Did Samiel go to help Nathaniel?”
“Yeah,” Beezle said.
I straightened, intending to go to the bedroom to check on Nathaniel, when I suddenly buckled in half with pain.
“What is it?” Beezle asked, alarmed. “Is it the baby?”
“No,” I said. “It’s the shifter. He’s shoving against the protective spell, trying to make it break.”
Because I put so much of myself in the spell, I could feel the probing magic of the shifter, looking for cracks, and realized I would not be able to relax and let the spell do its work. As long as the creature was outside, it would try to get in.
“This thing is like the effing Terminator,” I said, pouring magic out to reinforce the bubble. “It’s not going to go away.”
“I’m not sure this is good for you,” Beezle said. “You look kind of sick.”
“It’s not going to be good for any of us if it gets inside,” I said.
Rivulets of sweat poured down my face as I chased the shifter’s attempts to crack my spell, patching weaknesses as I went.
Samiel and Jude came out of the bedroom and saw me slouched against the wall. Jude’s shirt was covered in Nathaniel’s blood.
“What’s happening?” Jude demanded.
“The creature is trying to break Maddy’s protective spell,” Beezle said. “It would be really helpful if Daharan came home right now.”
Is this good for the baby? Samiel signed.
“Not a lot of better options,” I said through gritted teeth. “I need you all to go away. I can’t concentrate when you’re talking to me.”
“If the creature is performing a spell, it’s probably nearby. This is our chance to catch him,” Jude said.
“You can’t go outside,” I said. “If you go after the shifter, you’ll break the circle and then we’ll be right back where we started.”