Magic Side: Wolf Bound Complete Series: Books 1-4, page 99
“Pretty much. I thought you’d take some time off after everything that happened at Bentham,” she said, laughing. “That place is a shitstorm magnet.”
I smiled dully. “Yeah, well, I’m not sure we solved anything at all. We defeated Dragan, but I’m pretty sure we woke a monster in the process.”
Neve glanced over as we climbed the steps to the brass doors. “What do you mean?”
My stomach suddenly clenched. How much should I tell her? Jaxson’s warning was still fresh in my mind. We thought Dragan would be the one to release the Dark God, so we took the bastard out. If the wrong person hears of this and puts two and two together, they might decide to do the same thing to Savy.
I hadn’t known Neve long, but I trusted her. As for the rest of the Order, however, I wasn’t sure. Even if they were well intentioned, the Hall of Inquiry probably leaked rumors like a rusty sieve. The wrong someone might hear, but I had to tell Neve something, even part of the truth.
I rubbed my tired eyes, hoping the Zinger would kick in. “The wolves have a legend of a Dark Wolf God that will bring devastation to our world. Well, I think killing Dragan woke him, and now everything is messed up.”
Neve stopped and put a hand on my shoulder. “First off, I know that tone of voice. Whatever is going on, don’t blame yourself for this. You stopped a catastrophe at Bentham. We saw the runes Dragan burned into the roof of the prison. By the looks of the spell, he was going to send the whole place, along with its magic, nuclear.”
I recalled Dragan’s words, shouted toward the sky: I have prepared your altar, great one! A sacrifice unlike any before.
Neve squeezed my shoulder gently. “That explosion would have hit the lakeshore with a tsunami, Savy. So whatever else happened, you stopped a lot of people from dying.”
Or had I just deferred their fate?
She released me and gave me a warm smile. “Cheer up. You’re not on your own. I’m here to help, and so is the Order. What can we do?”
Taking a deep breath, I said, “First, I need to get rid of the Soul Knife. I think it has a role to play, either in my hands or in someone else’s.”
“I see why you wanted to unload it so quickly. The good news is that Archmage DeLoren is waiting to take it and lock it in the Vault. But if there’s anything else you need, let us know.”
Could you lock me in there, too?
I held my tongue on that one.
Neve turned and headed up the last steps into the Hall of Inquiry with me right behind, and we pushed through the front door, avoiding a few officers on their way out.
The front room was bustling with employees arriving to work. Breaking out of the crowd, I followed Neve down a marble corridor to an open elevator.
I shoved my hands in my pockets to keep from fidgeting as I watched the glowing numbers on the door descending…1, 0, B. “So, what exactly is the Vault?”
Neve flashed me a grin. “It’s a magically concealed labyrinth with hundreds of portals that lead to hidden rooms scattered around the world. It’s the best place to keep something safe and practically impregnable.”
The nerves fluttering in my chest eased a smidge. “Good.”
The sooner the cursed thing was locked away, the better.
Bing. The doors opened at level V. We followed the warmly lit corridor around several corners until we reached a heavy brass door.
I eyed the symbols engraved into the metal. Electric energy pulsed around us, and my skin prickled. “It’s beautiful.”
“And deadly. No touching,” a gruff voice sounded right behind us, and I jumped.
“Archmage DeLoren.” Neve smiled. “Nice to see you again. This is my friend Savy.”
The older man tilted his head slightly as his blue eyes narrowed in on me. “Detective Cross said that you are in possession of a cursed weapon that needs to be locked away?”
With difficulty, I stole my attention from his bushy, caterpillar-like eyebrows. “Uh, yes. The Soul Knife, which belonged to an Italian mage. I’ve been storing it in the ether for safekeeping, but I need to get rid of it. Someplace safe that no one can access.”
“A Soul Knife,” he grunted. “I haven’t seen one of those for ages. A particularly medieval and fiendish weapon. You can be assured that it will be safe in the Vault. It’s impregnable."
Neve glanced at the weathered archmage, and something flashed across her face that caused his gaze to harden with an undercurrent of annoyance. What the hell was that about?
It didn’t matter. I held out my hand to call the knife, then hesitated. “Once it’s safe in the Vault, I won’t be able to summon it back, will I?”
The archmage furrowed his brow. “Once something is inside the Vault, it’s impervious to outside magic. No power on this Earth could summon it because it is no longer on this earth.”
The tension in my shoulders eased. “That’s what I wanted to hear.”
I rubbed my palms on my jeans and focused my mind on the Soul Knife to summon it to me, imagining how it felt in my palm.
Nothing.
Pressing my lids shut, I dug deeper, recalling the patinaed bronze blade, the inscribed runes and raised ridge that cut down its center. My magic strained, and I tasted the knife’s signature—oaky and rich like wine on my tongue—but I couldn’t seem to draw the cursed thing from the ether.
I opened my eyes and growled in frustration.
DeLoren cocked one of his hoary eyebrows. “Is something wrong?”
“I can’t summon it,” I said in surprise.
“Have you summoned it before?” he asked, the slightest undercurrent of irritation in his voice.
I held out my hand again and gave a snarl of frustration when the knife didn’t appear. “I’ve done it dozens of times. Something’s wrong.”
“Hmm.” The archmage rubbed his beard thoughtfully. “Maybe your mind is unfocused. Let me see if I can help.”
Unfocused? I paused and shot him a piercing glare. I was exhausted and stressed. I hadn’t slept in a day, and the Dark God was looming over everything I did. So yeah, maybe I was unfocused.
Neve stepped up beside me and squeezed my shoulder. “Take a breath, Savy. You’ve been through a lot recently. You’ve got this.”
I inhaled deeply and nodded. “Okay. Let’s try again.”
DeLoren’s magic flared and enveloped me like a warm blanket, but I still couldn’t get a sense of it. I cleared my racing thoughts and focused on the Soul Knife. The heaviness of the blade in my hand. The coolness of the metal.
The sound of wheat blowing in the wind hummed in my ears. It was close.
And then, a cold weight tugged against my magic and sent a shiver down my spine as the wound on my shoulder ached. A deep voice rose in my mind: Why would you want to give up your claws, little wolf? We have so much work to do.
The Dark Wolf God.
Creeping terror clawed at my heart, and my eyes flew open.
“Shit,” I gasped, dragging my hand through my hair. Was he blocking my magic? Trying to control me?
Neve looked between DeLoren and me, worry in her eyes. “What happened?”
Jaxson’s warning to Casey burned in my mind: Tell no one until we understand what’s going on.
I could trust Neve, but the archmage? I didn’t know him. If they learned that the Dark God was trying to take control of me…
“I need some fresh air.” The walls of the corridor were constricting, and the magic pulsing off the Vault was making me nauseous. My head throbbed, and my heart began to race.
I didn’t pause to explain, but just bolted down the hall and punched the call button on the elevator a half dozen times.
You can’t run, little wolf. Sooner or later, you will submit to me, the Dark God said.
Terror coursed through my veins, and when the doors opened, I threw myself inside, jamming the starred button for the lobby. What am I going to do?
“Hey, wait up.” Neve slipped between the closing doors. “What’s going on, Savy? You’re freaking me out.”
Her signature filled the small space, and after a moment, it felt like I could breathe again. That the dark presence in my soul had lifted.
Her vivid eyes shone with concern, and she pulled the stop button on the elevator. “Talk to me.”
I swallowed hard, chest heaving. “He stopped me from releasing the Soul Knife.”
“Who?” she asked, eyes bright with concern.
I pressed myself against the back of the elevator. “The Dark Wolf God. I heard his voice. I think he wants to use me.”
“We should tell DeLoren.”
I grabbed her arm and whispered, “No! There are prophecies about the Dark God…and about me. If people misinterpret them, it could go really, really badly for me. I need to figure out what’s happening first.”
Neve’s expression turned grim. She nodded and released the stop button.
The elevator lurched up to the main floor, and the doors opened. She followed me across the foyer and out the front doors. The sky was still overcast, blotting out the fading sun. I slumped onto the stairs and stared out across the green expanse of the Midway. “Please don’t tell anyone yet.”
Neve sat down beside me and squeezed my hand. “I won’t say anything, and you can count on my help, one hundred percent. We’ll figure this out, gods and prophecies both. I know things probably feel wildly out of control right now—I’ve been there—but we’re all in charge of our own destinies, even though it may not feel like it at times.”
I nodded, but I wasn’t sure I believed it.
How did one fight one’s own destiny? More to the point, how did one defeat a god?
Kick ’em all in the nuts? Wolfie prompted, and I smiled softly. That had been my motto once, back when my biggest problems were a rundown car and customers skipping out on tabs. Problems that a Belmont girl could reasonably be expected to face.
Might still work, she suggested.
I closed my eyes and responded, I haven’t heard from you in a while
Things…have been different. Fading in and out. There are longer and longer gaps. I don’t know how to explain it, and it’s making me nervous.
“You and me both,” I muttered.
“What?” asked Neve.
I blushed. “Just talking to myself. Sorry.”
She leaned over and bumped my shoulder. “Don’t worry, we just have to work through the problem. Stop fretting over the big picture for a moment, or you’ll get overwhelmed. Something is clearly up with the weapon you have, so figuring that out is the first step. Perhaps it’s a curse. I know a diviner…”
Taking a deep breath, I stood. “You’re right, but I think I have to talk to my aunt. She helped me bind the knife in the first place. Maybe she can undo the spell.”
Neve smiled and rose as well. “Okay, then that’s step one.”
I slipped out my phone and pulled up Laurel’s number. My finger hovered over the screen, emotions thrashing inside me.
She’d bound my wolf. She hated my mate and my pack. But even though I’d hurt her deeply, she’d always been there to help. And I needed her help now, more than ever. Whatever it took, it was time to reconcile.
9
Savannah
“I’m so glad you called,” Laurel said as I stepped into her kitchen. The sweet warm aroma of snickerdoodles hit my senses, and my mouth began watering.
She wore a paisley apron that was dusted with flour. “You look like you saw a ghost, Savannah. Tell me what’s wrong.”
My aunt looked at me with a troubled expression that twisted my gut. She was such a cluster of contradictions. I knew that in her dealings, she could be hard and ruthless. She was a lethal sorceress, and probably one of the most dangerous people in Magic Side. And yet, here she was baking me cookies from scratch.
I took a seat at the kitchen island and fisted my hands to keep them from shaking. Last time I’d been there, I’d used the Sphere of Devouring to destroy Dragan’s soul. There was no easy way to explain all the shit that had unfolded since.
But she needed to know. If anyone could help me sort things out, it was her.
So I spilled my guts and told her everything. The Dark Wolf God. What had happened at Pere Cheney. The Soul Knife. When I’d finished, a weight had been lifted from my shoulders, but Aunt Laurel looked pale and distraught.
A buzzer went off, and she jumped up and took two baking sheets out of the oven. The rich cinnamon scent wafted off the piping-hot cookies as she set the sheets on the stove to cool.
“I’ve heard of the legends of the dark one. Just pieces and hearsay, but this…” She paused and turned to me. Worry lines etched her forehead.
“Is bad,” I finished, the words catching in my throat. “I don’t know what to do.”
Laurel nodded and began moving the cookies to the silver cooling racks she’d set on the counter. “You’ve got a good start. Don’t panic, and seek help from people you trust. I learned that the hard way. When I was younger, I thought I had to carry the world on my shoulders until Rhia—an old mentor of mine—knocked some sense into my head.”
She broke the edge off of one of the cookies and sneaked it in her mouth. “I know I told you not to go to the Order before, but you were right to try to give up the Soul Knife. I’ll help you summon it, and I can remove the spell so you can bring it to the archmages and lock it away in their ridiculous vault.”
Hope and relief flared within me. “You could do that?”
She slid two cookies onto a plate and handed it to me. “Of course I can. I cast the spell, didn’t I? Together, we should be able to summon the blade. Removing the magic bonds will be easy.”
Thank God.
As I heard Casey stir upstairs, I bit into a cookie and moaned at the warm, sugary goodness. Hints of vanilla, butter, and caramel flooded my tastebuds. Being a wolf had its benefits, and heightened senses were top on my list. Everything tasted way better.
Or actually, in some cases, way worse. Burritos from gas station hot shelves, for instance.
Laurel took the stool opposite from me, and I brushed off the crumbs from my hands before placing them in hers.
“Focus on the knife like I taught you,” she said, closing her eyes.
Laurel’s magic wrapped around me like a familiar hug. I squeezed my eyes shut and went through the process that had always worked, envisioning the signature, the feel, the details of the knife.
But just like earlier, I couldn’t call the Soul Knife to me. It was like my tether was severed, or at least restrained.
Worry crept under my skin, but I reached harder, searching for any connection with the cursed blade. My aunt’s signature pulsed, and the buzzing of bees and scent of cloves filled the room as she intensified her efforts. The little symbols she’d drawn on my palm appeared, but the knife did not.
After a minute, I released the breath I’d been holding and pulled my hands free of Laurel’s. “It’s not working.”
“I can see that.” Her brow was furrowed, and the intensity of her gaze sent chills up my spine. “This is very unusual. I sensed the Soul Knife, but its connection with you is different.”
“Different?”
My palms suddenly felt sweaty. Different wasn’t necessarily bad. I’d always been different. But the way Aunt Laurel said it sent panic coursing through me.
“Like the spell has been tampered with. Altered,” she said. “Another magic has crept into the bond.”
Shit. “The Dark Wolf God."
She stood up abruptly and placed her palms on the table. “I’ll look in my spell books to see if there’s any way to counter the magic that has reworked the original spell. There must be. But for now, you need to be extremely careful. Who else knows about you and the prophecy?” Laurel asked.
“Just me, Jaxson, and Sam. And Neve at the Order.”
My aunt looked at me knowingly. “It might be safer if you move back in with us. If the rest of the pack gets wind of this…”
They’d kill me?
I shook my head, even though doubt crept into my heart. “I’m safe with Jaxson.”
“Are you certain? I don’t trust those wolves, Savannah.”
Heat flushed my neck, and I had to tamp down the defensiveness that surged. “I’m a wolf, and I trust him more than anyone.” And that was the truth.
Laurel stiffened and turned to the sink to vigorously clean the dishes. “I know you share a bond. Trusting him that much makes sense, though I don’t understand the ins and outs of such things. It’s not like you have a choice about it.”
Somehow, her tone was frustrated and disapproving and hurt and accepting all at once—but it was her words that sliced deep. “Every choice I make is mine.”
Fuck the fates.
I stood to leave, the legs of the stool scratching against the linoleum floor.
“That’s not what I meant, dear. The fates push us toward things, but the choices are always ours. I just know how strong the mate bond is, and I know that what you feel for Jaxson is real. I may not like it, but that’s not for me to decide.” Sadness floated around her, dousing some of the flames of my anger. “You’re my niece, and I love you.”
I bit my lip. “All of me, or just the LaSalle half?”
Laurel reached out and placed her hand on my arm. “All of you. You may not believe it, but your mother and I…we weren’t like sisters, but we had an understanding. A closeness, even. We both loved your father so much, and that gave us common ground.” Her hand dropped away. “I’ll try to remember that. After your parents died, and I thought I’d lost you, too, I let bitterness get the best of me.”
I wanted to leave it there, as if her feud with the pack had been about her brother, but I couldn’t. I knew better.
My gut tightened with the fear of what I’d learn. “Your issues with the wolves go deeper than that. You’ve got dossiers on dozens of North American packs. And you’ve been keeping them updated.”
She flinched, and shock and anger crossed her face. “What were you doing snooping in my office?”
I squared my shoulders, trying to hide the guilt and shame. I’d trespassed and violated Laurel’s privacy, but the information she’d collected on the werewolves was dangerous and motivated by bad intentions.
