Bram and Mathias raised their hands and blasted one another. Their energies collided head-on, like two high-speed trains traveling in opposite directions on the same track. The resulting crash was terrible and awesome. Fire roared at the ceiling, then flamed out toward Bram.
He ducked and, with a grunt, hoisted Marrok up from the ground.
Then Shock raised her arms and shouted, “Now!”
As if his words were the match on a tinderbox, a spark jolted inside Olivia like lightning. Thunder followed when she shuddered. The energy that had been gathering shot from her fingertips, sizzling her skin. As it jetted from her, she saw it, white, gold, and violet mixing in an odd laser—headed for the wrong person.
“Bram!” she screamed.
He couldn’t hear, didn’t move out of the way at all. Instead, he reached for Marrok, lying so frightfully still in the pool of blood on the brick floor. Oh, dear God. She was going to hurt Bram when this blast of energy hit him square in the back. She might even kill him, all because she’d let Shock crawl inside her head and used her magic for violence.
But as the energy hit Bram, the stream flowed around him like water around a rock. It hit Mathias in the dead center of his chest.
He staggered, tripped, gasping for air. His evil eyes opened wide in shock. Then he crumpled to the ground, blood oozing from his nose, mouth, eyes, and pores.
“Bloody hell, witch!” Shock growled in her ear.
Everyone stopped dead. Collective amazement sucked the air out of the tunnel. Incredulity was written all over Ice’s face.
Duke whistled. “Amazing!”
What the hell had she done? “Is he dead?”
No one answered. She looked over at Duke, who was now closest to Mathias. “Devastating injury. It would kill most wizards.”
“But this is Mathias,” Shock pointed out.
Right. The man had healed his own bullet wound, so it was possible that she hadn’t finished him for good. On the other hand, he wasn’t getting up. Or moving—at all.
Still…“We ought to finish him off now,” she suggested.
She struggled against Shock’s hold so she could help out. He refused to release her.
“Get your bloody hands off her,” Duke demanded.
“Piss off!”
Ice ignored the drama, and with broadsword in hand, stalked toward Mathias.
“She’s right. The only good evil wizard is a headless one.” He paused, peering closer. “What the—His signature is nearly blank, almost like he has no magic. Bloody hell!”
“Is it possible she eradicated his?” Caden asked.
“Normally, I’d say no. But she’s a le Fay.”
They all turned a glance on her that was part awe, part fear. Was she that powerful?
Suddenly, the Anarki swarmed around Mathias protectively, resuming the fight with Ice and the others. They also blocked Olivia’s view of the psycho wizard.
The Doomsday Brethren jumped back in the melee. Bram ran, clutching Marrok’s bloodied form against him. Before he could escape, the half-dead reached after him, seizing, grasping, fists ready.
Carrying Marrok’s superior weight, Bram stumbled to his knees. Immediately, he took a blow to the face from one of the half-dead. Another grabbed him by the hair with a skeletal hand and yanked back. Still clutching Marrok to his chest, Bram couldn’t defend himself against the brutal punch that pounded the right side of his jaw and sent his head snapping into the kick of another Anarki.
She had to fight!
Olivia struggled against Shock’s hold, but he wasn’t budging.
“Stay,” he growled.
“I swear I’m going to kick you in the balls the first chance I get!”
No matter how she flailed her arms or kicked out with her legs, she could not dislodge the incredible strength of his hold.
“Don’t be daft. If you charge in there, the Anarki will kill you.”
“Why the hell do you care?”
Shock cursed. “Here, hold this.”
Reflexively, she grabbed the item he thrust at her as he stalked off toward the battle. She looked down at the smallish, leather-bound thing in her hands.
The Doomsday Diary?
“Is this…” Shock was already gone, shoulders deep in the melee. But doing what?
Why had he given her the book?
Caden emptied bullets into the Anarki, expertly avoiding the other Doomsday Brethren. Slowly, Bram crawled to the edge of the tunnel, Marrok clutched against him. The Anarki tried to claw him back.
Olivia tucked the book inside her blouse and raced forward. She didn’t know much about fighting, but she’d played a little soccer in school. She had a mean kick.
She reached the first half-dead soldier camped on Bram’s back, who was beating Bram brutally. The wizard’s gorgeous face was swollen. Blood dripped from his nose and mouth, matted his hair, covered his shirt.
And still, he did not leave Marrok to the whims of Mathias’s army.
Olivia kicked the half-dead Anarki on Bram’s back. The decomposing body’s head snapped back, then fell off. She grimaced and fought the urge to retch as black goo spewed. Instead, she locked her fingers together, and with a battle cry, struck the ribs of another Anarki attacking Bram. The zombie’s rib cage collapsed under her fist. She shuddered.
“Get yourself safe!” Bram panted.
He was rescuing a man who might already be dead and was halfway there himself, and he worried about her?
“You two get somewhere safe. I’m fine.”
Olivia charged into the battle as Caden flattened another four Anarki with bullets. She sidled closer to him, grabbed one of the blades strapped to his thigh, and plunged it into the half-dead soldier headed for her. It crumpled to the ground.
“Damn it!” Caden swore, shaking the gun.
He had run out of bullets. Very bad news. Anarki still fought everywhere, and Olivia knew they needed all the firepower they could muster.
At least she didn’t see Mathias up and fighting.
Caden tossed the gun down. “Give me the knife.”
“Don’t you have another?” she asked as another zombie closed in on them.
“Shock has it.”
He’d given Shock, the traitor, a weapon to help the Anarki defeat them? Well, hell.
Suddenly, the lights flickered, then blanked out entirely. She held in a scream. In the dark, someone grabbed her, but she knew instantly it wasn’t Anarki.
“Be still,” a voice whispered in her ear.
Shock. He’d tried to capture her for Mathias’s personal use earlier. What did he want now, in the middle of the darkened tunnel, in the heat of battle? She stomped down on his instep, and he hissed in her ear, hopping away.
Eerie silence fell, making her shiver.
Someone snapped then, and the lights illuminated the tunnel again. Bodies of the dead Anarki zombies littered the charred tunnel, oozing black slime. To her stunned surprise, Shock and the Anarki who hadn’t been felled by the Doomsday Brethren were gone.
So was Mathias.
The Doomsday Diary was still resting against her chest, close to her heart.
Exactly where she wanted Marrok to be.
“What happened?” she murmured.
Duke scanned the tunnel. “We won the battle. Time will tell if we won the war.”
Back at Bram’s estate, Olivia paced beside her bed, across which Marrok lay, frighteningly pale and still. On the other side, Duke, Ice, and Caden had gathered near with grim faces. Olivia knew by their expressions that her mate’s condition was grave. Bram, standing at the foot of the bed, had called for a wizened old wizard, magickind’s answer to a doctor. The old man mixed a poultice, said a few words, and waved his hands.
Earlier, she’d washed Marrok clean of blood and Sabelle had helped her dress him in fresh clothes. He was mending, and faster than the average human, but not at the pace he had mere days ago. Why wasn’t he healing into his protective, pushy self?
Bram watched the healer intently. Olivia held in a scream. The not knowing killed her. Would her mate, the man who held her heart in his hands, die for saving her?
“Damn it, what’s going on?” she asked.
Still bloody and ragged, Bram looked like he’d fought a pack of bears and lost. To his credit, he hadn’t once mentioned cleaning up…or asked about the diary.
“He will live,” the old healer said finally. “Many others would have gone on. Something holds him here.”
Yeah, cursed immortality. She sighed as the healer left, explaining there was nothing more he could do.
Bram’s eyes narrowed in a scheming expression that meant he was up to something. “I have an idea for healing him.” Bram took her by the hand, guiding her to Marrok’s side. “Put your hands on his chest.”
She frowned quizzically, but did as she was told. Marrok’s hard flesh felt so alive under her touch, his warmth, the ripple of muscle. So…normal. Olivia could almost believe he was sleeping, if it weren’t for the angry jagged cut bisecting him and his shallow breaths.
Puzzled, she frowned at Bram. “Won’t I infect his wounds with my germs? Maybe he needs a hospital.”
“Imagine filling out that form.” He cleared his throat and mimicked a female nurse’s voice. “Age of the patient, madam?”
Good point.
“Just put your hands on him, close to his heart, and close your eyes. Remember that burst of energy you had in the tunnel? How did you know to do that?”
“Shock grabbed me as I was trying to escape. He barked at me to gather and focus the energy, then encouraged me to blast it.” The memory of the event rolled over her, and she cast an apologetic glance at Bram. “When I first released it, I thought it might hit you. Thank God, it ran right around you.”
Bram sent her a stunned stare. “How did you do that?”
“I don’t know. I just kept hoping it wouldn’t touch you and it didn’t.” Bram’s expression made her pause. “That’s not normal, is it?”
“By all rights, your blast should have hit me, perhaps killed me. Shock had nothing to do with your energy missing me?”
“He made me madder and madder, taunted me into blasting out all my anger. And I was furious! Mathias was hurting you, and he’d already—” Olivia dropped her gaze to Marrok. Fear climbed inside her belly again, gouging at her composure. She fought tears as she curled her fingers around his arm. “What will happen to him?”
“You’re going to cure him by focusing on healing thoughts instead of anger, then pouring that power into Marrok.”
With a gasp, Olivia jerked her hands from Marrok. “No! I either killed Mathias or ripped out all his magic with that blast. I couldn’t—”
“You seriously wounded him, but the bloody sod is still alive and had at least enough magic to teleport out and take the Anarki with him.”
“Maybe Shock did that.”
“We don’t know which side Shock truly supports, but only Mathias could control the Anarki and make them disappear. So unfortunately, he’s alive and well. But you reduced him a great deal. That in itself is a victory.”
Olivia didn’t know if not having killed Mathias made her feel worse or better. Power had surged through her, and she had wished him dead when she blasted him. She’d stunned him enough to flatten him to the ground and make him bleed.
“But it didn’t really help.”
“I wouldn’t say that. Mathias was down, even as he left. His signature was nearly blank. That indicates very weak magic. It’s likely you damaged his power a great deal, maybe even permanently. That is very helpful. Mathias without power is just another cheesed-off man.”
Which made him a heck of a lot less dangerous. “Isn’t it odd that I can do magic before transition?”
Bram hesitated. “Yes and no. Most can perform simple spells before reaching maturity. The key, however, is simple. The magic you performed was both strong and complex beyond what an untransitioned witch should be capable of. Beyond what many fully transitioned can do. You’ll be extraordinarily powerful someday. And everyone in that tunnel took notice.”
“Are my powers strong enough to heal Marrok?” She glanced at her pale, fading mate, her heart squeezing in fear all over again.
“At the very least, your concern and need for him should carry through your bond and give him strength.”
“W—what if I accidentally hurt him?”
Impatience crossed his face. “Do you love Marrok?”
“Yes.”
“Your love will reach him. Magic isn’t merely about spells. You can learn them—and must. But casting magic revolves around the power of the witch or wizard. Power you clearly have. It’s also about passion and intent. You intended earlier tonight to hurt Mathias and you violently wanted it. You did. Right now, you intend to heal Marrok and yearn for his recovery. I don’t know if you have healing magic, but as I said, at worst, your touch will reaffirm your bond and strengthen his will to live.”
Olivia stared at her mate, lying so still. His breathing had grown more ragged. His skin now rivaled a winter snow. No more time to argue or worry. Though Marrok had said that he wanted to die, she knew he would never want to die at evil’s hand. She had to do everything possible to enable him to choose life…or death.
