Magic Unchained (45 page)

“Everyone back inside the line!” Patience commanded as six other
camazotz
regained their feet, then four more. “Retreat,
now!
”

Most of the
winikin
responded instantly. Breece, though, kept hacking away, calling, “Just one more—”
She broke off with a strangled cry when the demon yanked itself from her grip, grabbed her by the neck, and bit down.

The crunch was horrific; the sight of her body going limp and then getting tossed aside was even worse.

Closing his eyes on a moment of silent prayer—for her, for all of them—Sven carried Cara to the little spit of sand where they had stood in their first shared vision, the one that had started them down the path to this place, this horror.

He cast a look around at the chaos of a battle going badly wrong. The Nightkeepers had managed to raise a glimmer of red-gold magic around the screaming skull and were bearing down, repeating the chant over and over again, trying to pierce the barrier between this life and the next and not getting far. The
winikin
were battered and exhausted; their blood-links were faltering even with Brandt and Patience acting as buffers, and the shield was flickering in and out.

Most of the
camazotz
had fallen back, but not because they had lost their leader. No, they were keeping up just enough of an attack to wear out their enemy. Then, once the shield was down all the way, they would move in. And feast.

Sven’s blood chilled, but he found a prayer. Or maybe more a question. A challenge.
Is this what you wanted, gods? Is it
?
Or did I fuck everything up by turning my back on the woman I love?

His brain hiccuped a little at the “l” word, but his heart didn’t miss a beat.

Cradling her to his chest, he breathed her in and found himself thinking simply,
Please, gods
. It was what she always said when she wasn’t sure whether she had
the right to ask for their help. And for the first time, he knew how that felt.

He didn’t deserve her, hadn’t fought hard enough for her when the time was right, and now he might be too late. But he loved her, damn it. He fucking loved her.

“Give me one more chance,” he said softly—to her, to the gods. “I promise I won’t let you down ever again.”

And, wonder of wonders, he felt a quiver of magic run through him at the vow.

Heart jumping from zero to sixty in no time flat, he opened himself to the power, sought it, latched onto it, and threw his soul into its warmth. He tore open the
winikin
connection he had blocked so self-righteously that morning, and welcomed the pain. Then he channeled all of his energy and that tiny quiver of magic straight into the
winikin
bond, whispering in his soul:
Please, gods
.

For a second nothing happened. And then, just barely, he felt the thinnest thread of a connection, a faint trickle of warmth.

Come on, come on!
He held nothing back, but still it was more a stream than a torrent. Why was he so weak? He had come back to make amends. He knew what the visions were now. Yet still his magic didn’t return. Had he damaged things with Cara so irreparably that even his power had turned away?

“Give her your magic,” JT urged. He was crouched down on the other side of Cara now, though Sven hadn’t sensed his presence. The
winikin
’s expression was urgent. “It’s the only way to burn off the poison.” And although he didn’t say it, they both knew the
winikin
were down to the dregs of their energy, and probably the Nightkeepers as well. They needed a boost and they needed it now.

A few days ago—hell, even a few hours ago—he and Cara together could have put some serious power into the mix. Add in Mac and the sable coyote, who was crouched near Cara’s head, watching her with worried eyes, and they might even have been able to turn things around.

Now, though, he shook his head. “I’m trying. It’s not enough.”

Worse, she was fading, getting weaker, letting go. He could feel it, but couldn’t stop it. And for the first time in his life he felt truly helpless, truly at the mercy of the universe.

A ragged sob tore at his throat. “Don’t you dare give up on me. Not now. Not—” He broke off at a tap on his shoulder, jerked his head up with a growl. And saw Sebastian standing there, offering his bleeding palm.

Twenty more
winikin
stood behind him, a mix of the factions. Beyond them, a skeleton crew was doing their best to hold the shield around the magi, who were bleeding from their hands and tongues as they called on the First Father to return. Worse, the
camazotz
were massing once more, their blazing eyes fixed on the shield with hungry intensity.

“Take it,” Sebastian said, turning up his bloody palm to the light. “She’s ours too.” There was a quiver of magic in that, as well, as if the
winikin
had already made a new promise to their leader.

Nodding, Sven clasped Sebastian’s hand in his.

The punch of power that rocketed through him nearly blew his damn head off his shoulders.

“Holy shit,” he managed to gasp as the united might of the
winikin
roared inside him, immense and powerful and seeming to be searching for something.
Searching, searching…
“Holy, holy shit.”

“Can you do it?” Sebastian grated, his voice seeming to come from very far away.

Sven nodded. “We’ll get her back. I promise.” The vow made a bigger ripple, augmented this time by the power of the
winikin
and everything that was inside his heart as the blood-link wove together, gaining strength and becoming something real and whole. And, riding the wave, Sven opened himself to the
winikin,
to the magic… and to Cara.

The response wasn’t anything he expected.

A sudden wind whipped up inside the cavern and lightning lashed down and hit the domed shield, scattering along it like a science museum exhibit gone badly wrong. The
camazotz
screeched and charged, hammering into the shield and making it groan beneath the force of their attack. But suddenly it didn’t look like they were trying to break the shield so much as get inside it. Their eyes were wild, their wing beats frantic.

“Shit!” Sven tried to pull the power back in, rein it tight, but it was out of control, whiplashing through him and up into the storm.

Overhead, near where the fallen-through spot let in the light, a huge cloud gathered, overlapping the rocky ceiling of the cavern, somehow existing both on this plane and another. Lightning struck the dome again, frying a bat demon with a huge and meaty bug-zapper noise. It shrieked, fell to the ground, and lay smoking.

Thunder rolled in the air, making the ground tremble.

“Sven, no!” Dez shouted, lunging up and breaking the blood-link to wave him down. “Stop! You’re calling the hellhound!”

“I can’t stop it!” Whatever chain reaction was happening had reached critical mass. Magic flowed from the
winikin
into him, from him to Cara, and then back up again in a feedback loop that filled him up, made him invincible, and terrified him all at once.

Searching, searching
… He didn’t know what the magic was looking for, only that it was very near. It had two legs, four, wings, fins, a crocodilian tail.…
Searching
… The sable coyote’s head whipped up and she gave a joyous bark.
Found!

The magic snapped out of him, cut dead, and if he hadn’t already been on his knees, he would have fallen. He sagged.

Cara shuddered in his arms and her eyes flew open and locked on his.

Relief hammered through him, though there was fear too. Fear that she wouldn’t be willing to give him one final chance. “I’m sorry.” He caught her against him, held her tight. “Jesus, gods, I’m sorry.”

She avoided his eyes. “What’s happening?”

Stomach sinking, he answered, “I don’t know anymore. I thought I did, but—”

Thunder barked and lightning speared from the storm cloud, arrowing through a ragged hole in the sagging shield-stone spell and whipping toward them.

“Move!” Sven called a quick shield that flared to life strong and sure, shocking him even as he hooked an arm around Cara’s waist and dragged her aside. Mac lunged after them, leaving the sable coyote behind. She froze there, splay legged and wide-eyed.

And the lightning hit her squarely, as if she had been the target all along.

“No!” he shouted, heart shuddering at the horrible howl and the smell of burning hair. But when the flash cleared, she stood there unscathed, eyes bright and alert,
and locked on Cara. The female didn’t even look like she’d been singed; she seemed totally unharmed.

“What is she?” Cara asked, voice hushed.

“I thought… Oh, shit!” The female’s body blurred and stretched without warning, expanding, enlarging, growing until the sable coyote—or demon?—was the size of a horse, stiff ruffed and vicious-looking, with coal red eyes that fixed immediately on Cara, suddenly all too familiar.

The hellhound had arrived in the flesh. And this time it wasn’t letting her get away.

“Come on,” Sven yelled, dragging at Cara’s arm. “Fall back. I can shield us!”

Heart pounding, she turned to run. “Go!”

No!
The
nahwal
’s voice cut through her panic and confusion.
Join now or all is lost!

And she stopped dead. “Oh, gods.”

Sven spun back. “Here? Now?”

But Cara got it. She freaking got it.

They had been right about some things, wrong about others. And they’d been very wrong about the two of them. “It’s not talking about us joining,” she said softly. “The signs have been pointing toward this guy all along.” She indicated the hellhound, which was crouched with its head low, its hackles raised, and its huge teeth bared. “He’s not the enemy. He’s tried to reach me whenever I’ve been deeply linked to the magic through you.”

Sven shook his head, but there was a look of dawning wonder on his face. “He’s a she, and she’s the one who’s been sending me the visions. She’s been looking for you.” His voice quieted. “I thought she was your familiar.”

Cara caught her breath.
My familiar. Gods
. And in that instant, she yearned… and then she let it go, because the creature facing her was nobody’s familiar. “No. I think she’s the key to the resurrection spell. Her and the
winikin
together.”

That was what the signs had meant. Not that she and Sven were destined.

He took a step toward her. “Cara—”

Shouts interrupted, coming from the shield. The Nightkeepers were breaking the spell and rallying with the
winikin
as more
camazotz
poured from the tunnel. They were going to need help, though.

Cara held out her hand to Sven. “I need to borrow your magic. It’s working now, isn’t it?”

He avoided her eyes. “Yeah. Good as new.”

That shouldn’t have pinched, but did. She accepted the pain, though, just as she accepted the terror that took root and grew as they approached the hellhound. Mac stalked at her side, bristling, though she didn’t know whether that was coming from his instincts or Sven’s thoughts. Maybe both, because the creature was monstrous up close, fierce and fanged, and smelled faintly of burned hair and ozone.

The storm had gone quiet, but the clouds remained. Now, as the hellhound’s growl notched up, thunder grumbled beneath their boots.

“Don’t be rude,” Cara said in a reproving voice. “You came looking for me, remember?”

Lightning flickered and the air grew heavy and storm-charged.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Dez say something to Strike, who shook his head. When Anna did the same, her stomach clenched. The Nightkeepers were exhausted,
the shield failing, the teleporters possibly too spent to evacuate.

So when the beast shifted, looking ready to charge, she pulled her combat knife, opened the slashes on both her palms, and held out a hand to Sven. “Okay. Let’s do this.”

He hesitated. “Cara, I—”

“Not now,” she interrupted. Because if he gave her one more empty apology right now, she was afraid she would be the one to block him, not the other way around. “Tell me after.”

He said nothing more, but nodded and took her hand, and when the blood-link formed, it carried with it a huge upwelling of warmth and support. She nearly staggered from the impact of it, the aching sweetness of feeling magic coming through the bond once more when she had thought it lost forever, and from how much she wanted to send the same back to him. But the difference was that while she would mean it wholeheartedly, his would last only as long as it was convenient.

So, saying nothing, she accepted the warmth along with the magic, and crossed the last few feet that brought her into the hellhound’s range. Coal red eyes watched her approach, but the huge beast didn’t move.

Lightning flickered, though, followed by a growl of thunder.

“You came looking for me,” she reminded the beast. “Well… I’m here. I don’t know what you want from me. But whatever it is, you can have it.”

“Cara…”

She ignored Sven’s warning growl and, with his magic inside her and his blood-link making her feel like she could do anything, be anything, she held out her hand and opened her fingers to let the blood trickle free.

The beast moved like a striking snake, snapping its jaws to trap her hand in its massive teeth. She screamed in shock, but when Sven and Mac both surged forward, she said, “No! It’s okay. It’s…” She trailed off as the huge animal’s tongue swiped her palm and new heat seared through her, new magic.

“Holy shit,” Sven said, and looped an arm around her waist to support her when she sagged. “What is this? What the fuck is this?”

She didn’t know, couldn’t have told him if she did, because suddenly the creature reared back on its haunches and let out an earsplitting howl that drove her back and into his arms. She didn’t want to cling, but she could only watch in terrified awe as fresh lightning split the sky, thunder pealed, and the clouds erupted, fragmenting into a dozen vapor trails. Twenty. Forty.