Magic Resistant (32 page)

The bolt slammed into him as he closed in on
Markus. His whole body convulsed. Unfortunately, his momentum kept
him going forward and he succeeded in reaching Markus, knocking him
off balance.

Logan spun around, warned of the danger at
his back. Julia wanted to scream in frustration. Her aggravation
increased when she noticed no one else assisted. They all stood
back and watched, like it was some damn drama show unfolding and
not a life and death situation.

None of them would do anything unless told to
by their leaders. Leaders who didn’t want to interfere with one of
their own.

What a bunch of bullshit, such complete and
utter bullshit. Politics, plain and simple, kept them silent. Even
Mara and Roan held the rest of their personnel out of the fray so
they could claim ignorance on Markus’ actions. If they sent anyone
to help then they cemented their position against Logan. Even with
all the evidence against him, there hadn’t been a trial and it
would be political suicide to aid in any harm against him.

Pissed off beyond belief knowing they’d let
him die to safeguard their political careers, Julia cursed them.
Bunch of damn cowards. Good thing she had no political career to
worry about. This bastard wouldn’t leave this room a free man.
Anyone who tried to stop her would become a casualty of her
anger.

Markus steadied himself, recovering from Kim
knocking into him. She focused on the Avenging Reaper, her partner
and no longer an illusion. It seemed apt. Markus was now Death.

She mentally checked which earring was
available to her. The fireball and magic arrows out of commission,
still recharging. Use the earthquake, perhaps? Though it might
throw Markus off balance too. The hold spell was recharged and she
hadn’t used the gust of wind yet. The rest were useless as they
were self-only spells. She didn’t have enough time to gather energy
and overcome her resistance to cast a regular spell. Imbued or
nothing.

Decision made, she touched her jasper earring
and called up the wind. It pushed its way across the room, starting
as a small breeze until it was a gale force when it struck Kim.
Much stronger than she remembered, she winced when she heard bones
break as his body again slammed into the wall. Maybe this time he’d
stay down.

Logan took that moment to attack and Julia
chided herself at her lack of faith in Markus. She should've known
better. He'd been toying with the other man. He wanted him closer.
In one swift motion, he pulled the same trick on him that she had
on the werewolf in the alleyway - Markus sliced open Logan’s
stomach.

As the tear in his gut widened, she realized
with equal amounts of horror and amusement she’d received one knife
back from Markus, not two. He didn’t carry any knives himself which
meant he gutted a Coterie leader with her blade.

Crimson blood dripped from between Logan’s
fingers, splashing onto the floor, and the werewolves howled,
either in grief or rage, she wasn’t sure. Quite possibly they were
simply hungry. The scent of blood now an overwhelming stench. A
slow glance around the room showed several werewolves struggling
against the change. Aaron’s eyes were closed, fists clenched and
veins popping out on his arms as he strained to control the wolves
baser side.

Suppressing the mindless bloodlust was
taxing. More so with no one else to share the burden.

Derek ghosted over to Aaron, silent and fast
for one so massive. Placing a hand on the Coterie’s shoulder, he
too closed his eyes and channeled his own strength into the sole
leader.

One by one, the Elites tossed off the desire
for carnage, caging the primitive beast inside.

A newcomer, possibly the mage who shielded
Logan, took advantage of the confusion. A faint change in the air,
the increase in ozone tipped off Julia.

Slipping into her inner sight, taking care to
avoid Mara and Roan, she saw the gathering energy twisting inside
him. Too much for a simple spell. He had no reason to need magic;
the fighting was over. Healing Logan was a medic’s job.

No, he was generating a large, destructive
amount of magic.

Oh shit, a death spell. Someone in this room
would die.

No one else noticed his actions, too intent
on the bleeding werewolf.

Who was his target? A room filled with
powerful and important people, any one of them his intended
victim.

Shutting down her inner sight, she scanned
the room. The hair lifted on the back of her neck as he released
the energy. The faint ghosting from the spell headed straight for
Jackson. His minor shielding wouldn’t withstand the excessive surge
of power. Without a second thought, she pushed Jackson out of the
way and the bolt rammed through her shielding. She dropped to her
knees as she convulsed. Everything went dark, her body falling limp
to the ground.

This sucks
. She thought as her
consciousness slipped away.

Chapter
Twenty-Five

JACKSON WHIPPED
AROUND, wondering why Julia pushed him. His heart stopped as he
stared at her motionless body sprawled on the floor. A scream of
agony ripped from his throat and he rushed to her side. Slamming
down onto his knees, he gathered her in his arms, his body shaking
in fear. He smoothed some loose hair from her face, willing her to
open her eyes.

“Julia, Julia! No…” He moaned as his fingers
slid down to her throat. He checked for her pulse, but there was no
beat, no sluggish movement, nothing. His brain wouldn’t accept it.
She couldn’t be dead. Not his Julia.

Dimly, another angry shout of denial
shattered the air. Barely contained fury ripped through the room as
he heard, “No one is
ever
allowed to touch her. She’s under
my
protection!”

Spots appeared before his eyes as a violent
flash of light burst in the room. All sound except Jackson’s
ragging breathing ceased. He didn’t care. Nothing else mattered.
Only Julia. She was the focus of his whole world.

Gently, he laid her on the floor and began
CPR, hoping to start her heart again. He counted off thirty chest
compressions. He stopped and tilted her head. Opening her mouth, he
made sure there was no blockage. Two breathes in and back to chest
compressions.

Healing spells weren’t his expertise and he
refused to waste a moment trying. He hadn’t forgotten the initial
time he healed her and the magic washed over her, unable to fix a
sprained ankle. Without her cooperation, how could he heal a
stopped heart?

Breathe, damn it, breathe
. He thought
frantically.
Please don’t die
.

The other voice raged on, “If she’s dead, you
will
all
die. And I will make it agonizing.”

Footsteps thundered towards him, skidding to
a halt within inches from Julia. Not stopping for a second, he
continued CPR, willing life back into her body. He wanted to hold
her, anchor her to this world with his touch, but instincts were
driving him. Eyes blurry with unshed tears, he tore his gaze from
Julia’s still form. Markus crouched down next to him, his hand
hesitantly inching toward Julia’s arm.

“Is she alive?” Markus sounded as broken as
Jackson felt, though his face remained an impenetrable mask.
Jackson didn’t care if everyone saw his naked emotions. Impossible
to hide the intense pain ripping through him. All training had
deserted him.

“I can’t find a pulse. Damn it, I can’t find
a pulse.” What would he do without her? He hadn't realized how much
joy she brought him. The happiness when she smiled. The fun he had
when he teased her. It all crashed into him, crushing him under the
weight of pain, seeing her lying so motionless.

“Let me try.” Markus put two fingers onto her
neck and waited. He exhaled in relief. “There’s a pulse. It’s
faint, very faint, but it’s there. She needs Keeper.” He moved to
pick her up. Jackson blocked him. He gathered Julia into his arms,
holding her tight to him.

“No, she needs a healer. Keeper can’t help
her. I’ll teleport her to the hospital.”

“She can’t be teleported. Trust me. I won’t
let anything happen to her.” His voice broke, but he continued, “I
love her as my own daughter. I helped raise her. I will
not
let her die. You either help me or I’ll go through you.”

Jackson tilted his head back, needing a
moment to control his emotions. Astonished, he whipped around,
taking in the impossible.

Frozen. Everyone in the room including all
the Coterie leaders, frozen.

How in the nine hells did he freeze Mara and
Roan?

The immense power it took to hold so many
people at once was staggering. If Markus wanted to, he’d
effortlessly go through Jackson, and Julia would be dead. Instead
he was fighting to keep her alive.

With great reluctance, he handed her to
Markus and swiftly got to his feet. When it looked as if Markus
would protest, Jackson gave him a hard stare. No way would he leave
her side.

“More Enforcers will be here soon, the ones I
trust. Be good and stay where you are.” Markus stared straight
ahead, trusting in the strength of his spell. Jackson shook his
head in awe and reminded himself to never, ever piss off
Markus.

Chapter
Twenty-Six

HOUSED IN THE
SUB-BASEMENT of the Coterie Headquarters, the massive library
contained much of the mage lore. Also located there, Keeper’s
private quarters. Jackson and Markus both hurried to the hidden
elevator in the one of the Mage Coterie’s office. Since Keeper
dealt almost exclusively in mage lore, access to him was primarily
through the mages. Jackson paid scant attention to the plush
office, a dramatic contrast to the starkness of the main lobby.

Here, they spared no expense. Thick
carpeting, genuine oak desk, Italian leather couch for guests and
original paintings from the Group of Seven artists. The far wall a
bank of windows overlooking Lake Ontario.

Located on the inside wall, the elevator
tucked away from prying eyes. Markus a familiar visitor as his
thumbprint and energy signature already keyed in for clearance.
They stepped inside and pressed the single button available -
basement - and the door slid shut.

Why were they wasting time using an elevator
instead of teleporting? Julia was near death. She didn’t have time
for this bullshit.

His thought barely finished when the door
opened. How in the nine hells did it go down seventy-five flights
in such little time? He almost smacked himself when the obvious
answer occurred to him - magic. Why wouldn’t the most powerful
mages use a little magic to save them some time, especially if they
needed Keeper for an emergency? He wanted to kiss them for their
frivolous use.

They hurried down the short hallway which
opened to the main greeting room. Another drab area meant to
discourage lingering people. More hard, uncomfortable looking
chairs (there must’ve been a sale on these terrible chairs) lined
the right wall while a small unmanned receptionist desk sat facing
them.

Judging by the dust, no one used it.

A plain wooden door faced them across the
room, wide open. Keeper gestured for them to hurry and they wasted
no time. What could Keeper do for Julia the mage healers couldn’t?
They specialized in healing magic. He didn’t.

Jackson wanted to snatch Julia from Markus’
arms. She needed proper help. Winning against the other mage was
hopeless though. Even with his magic close to depletion, Markus was
still too strong.

Turning his attention to Keeper, he tried to
contain his worry for Julia. The pain and fear nearly crippled him,
thinking straight near impossible. All rational thought deserted
him. Had he been thinking clearly, he would’ve refused bringing
Julia here. He should’ve fought harder.

He studied the other man, the one now
responsible for saving Julia. Every time he saw Keeper, he
readjusted the mental image. He kept expecting a wizened old man
and instead the Keeper of All Knowledge was an attractive man in
his early thirties. His reddish brown hair had a thread of silver,
the only hint of age on him. No laugh lines creased his brown eyes
or mouth. He dressed impeccably, a high end suit worth more than a
month's salary for Jackson. His loosened tie and slightly mussed
hair was the sole sign of his distress.

His lack of visible aging meant he was
anywhere from five hundred years old to well over a millennium.
Mages aged extremely slowly, something they liked to keep under
wraps.

Jackson, at forty-five years old, looked like
he’d be more comfortable in a college pub. His unkempt hair and
stubble aided this illusion. Compared to Keeper, he was a toddler,
barely out of diapers. Even Markus, at over three hundred, easily
passed for a college student.

Irrelevant musings, a way to distract his
mind as they raced through the large, semi-public library. Many of
the books here were replaceable, mass produced and focused on the
histories of the races. The rare and valuable books locked away,
inaccessible to all but a select few. Jackson heard rumours about
what the books and scrolls contained, some which may explain the
origins of the different races and forgotten magic, but he’d never
had the pleasure to see them.

He rushed passed the rows upon rows of
shelves, following closely behind the other two men. Another time,
the size of the library would’ve amazed him. There was even an open
area with an eight foot long table and several chairs around it to
study the books at leisure.

At the far end of the well lit rectangular
room, they turned right and the two other men disappeared into the
wall.

Assuming they hadn’t forgotten about him, he
pushed into the illusion. The initial resistance worried him. He’d
encountered this kind of security measure before. If his personal
signature wasn’t added, he’d be trapped inside the illusion.