The Wolf Who Fought for His Soul Mate (12 page)

stronger than I look. Nothing can hurt me as long as we have our

bond.”

The words might have been said largely for Jace’s benefit, but

Paris found encouragement in them as well. He smiled at his lover,

and Jace’s resistance broke.

Paris felt how much it took out of his mate to let him go.

Nevertheless, Jace did so, releasing him and allowing him to move

forward. Paris joined Noah inside the pentagram and waited.

“So now what?” Paris asked, keeping his voice a low murmur.

“Give me your hand,” Noah replied. As Paris did so, he noticed

with some trepidation that the warlock’s fingers were still glowing.

He didn’t pull away, though. He was probably just being ridiculous.

Magic might be dangerous, but this was Noah. Even if Paris barely

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knew him, he’d heard about what Noah had done and respected him

greatly for it. This would be perfectly safe.

He was so convinced of it that he hissed when the blue light

slashed a long cut in his palm. Jace shot forward, ready to jump to

Paris’s defense. Once more, Noah stopped him. “It’s okay. Normally,

it’s not recommended for anyone to willingly give their blood for any

spell since other witches can and will use it against you. I wouldn’t do

that, though. Once we’re done here, I’ll clear all traces of your blood,

just in case.”

“I believe you,” Paris said out loud. Just for Jace, he added,
“Let

him work. I’m not made out of porcelain. It’s just a scratch.”

Jace clenched his fists and gritted his teeth, his body as tense as a

bowstring. Paris sent waves of love through their bond, wishing he

could do more to reassure his mate.

“We’re just being silly,”
Jace whispered in his mind.
“Like you

said, it’s only a scratch.”

Paris met Noah’s eyes and nodded. “All right. What next?”

“Close your eyes and relax,” the warlock replied. As Paris

complied, Noah gave him further instructions. “Count with me.

Ten…Nine…Eight…”

Noah’s voice droned on, and Paris found himself drifting, drifting,

until Noah’s words became a dim echo. Oddly enough, Noah seemed

to be speaking to him at a different level, too. Paris was somehow

aware that his ears weren’t processing any further messages other

than the countdown, but a string of incantations filled his mind,

flowing over him, threatening to overcome him. If not for his bond

with Jace, he would have been scared. As it was, he relaxed and

accepted Noah’s power.

At first, Paris thought he could manage, that he would be able to

open himself to the magic without losing his will to it. But then, all of

a sudden, energy exploded within him. A tidal wave of strange

thoughts, emotions, images, and incomprehensible flashes of reality

swept over his mind. Paris’s eyes shot open, but he seemed blind to

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everything around him. His vision was filled with things that had

happened a long time ago. And this place…This place had so much

history. Laden with pain, the ground ached to tell its story to anyone

who would listen. Paris wanted to scream, but the agony coursing

over him wasn’t physical. It went beyond what his body could process

and delved deep into the caverns of his soul.

And then, Paris sensed Jace. He could almost see his mate with

his mind’s eye, reaching out to him. Finding an anchor in Jace’s

strength, Paris struggled to grasp what the magic was trying to tell

him. He didn’t have to know every single memory that had become

imprinted in this particular spot. They just needed the one that

involved Aria and Tyrell.

As new understanding flooded him, Noah’s presence started to

guide him. In the beginning, it felt somewhat clumsy and awkward,

but then it became clearer, like a beacon steadying itself and lighting

the way through a chaotic maze. Paris’s mind finally began to discard

the incoherent messages, and a crystal-clear image formed.

* * * *

Aria watched her new employer with a degree of apprehension.

He was working on creating a pentagram using nothing but his hand.

It was quite interesting to watch. He was simply rotating his finger,

and the line appeared wherever he willed it to.

It should have looked awkward, since he was in a wheelchair. In

fact, given his current condition, he should have seemed small and

defenseless. But even if Tyrell was paralyzed from the waist down,

unable to fix his body through any sort of magic or medical

procedure, he remained as dangerous as ever.

To a certain extent, Aria had been surprised when she’d met

Tyrell. She had first seen a handicapped child that would probably be

powerless in any serious battle. But he had quickly shown her that it

was not the case. Tyrell’s current form had been injured during an

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attack on Isaac Wade, but his real power lay within his magic, and

those abilities were just as potent as before.

“What exactly does this spell do again?” she asked.

Tyrell looked at her, his old, wicked eyes seeming out of place in

his young face. “It will give you some of my magic,” he replied, “and

create a thread of connection between us. With you as my familiar, we

will be able to unify our strengths against our common foes.”

Turning his attention back to the pentagram, he continued to draw

the glowing image. Aria didn’t get the impression that he was pissed

at her for asking, so she dared another question. “So I’ll have

powers?”

“Yes,” Tyrell replied, this time not looking away from his work.

“Essentially, if, or rather, when you face the Wades, they won’t be

able to shackle you or immobilize you using that silver-based drug.

You’ll have that strength I imbued you with, permanently.”

Oh, Aria liked that idea. As a shifter, she was naturally wary of

magic, but Tyrell Hall had helped her escape her imprisonment. She

owed him. However, it wasn’t gratitude that urged her to stay by his

side, but the real knowledge of his power. He was dangerous, and he

could hurt her if she tried to double-cross him, but as long as she was

agreeable, she could use him. Much like she had with her former

husband, really. It would just take some adapting and cautious

maneuvering. She had to be more careful this time, and not get too

ambitious. He would share some of his magic with her, but she was no

fool. She knew it would have a price. But even if she’d wanted to

refuse him, it wouldn’t have been smart. At the moment, he was her

only ally, and a very valuable one.

Aria remained silent, now excited about the prospect of her new

abilities. She scanned the faces of the people around them, silently

wondering what they all thought. They hadn’t all been pleased at her

appearance, but from what she’d noticed, most of them feared Tyrell

too much to oppose him. Tonight was no different, and while several

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men and women seemed uncomfortable, only one person spoke up. A

woman.

“Are you sure about this, my love?” she asked.

Tabitha was Tyrell’s wife from his previous life. She hated Aria

with a passion, most likely because she realized that she herself was

obsolete. The only thing she’d probably been able to offer to Tyrell

was sex and perhaps companionship. With Tyrell becoming a child,

sex was out of the question, and now Aria had swooped in to take the

only thing that remained.

“It’s not that I don’t trust you,” she insisted, “but Aria is a

shifter.”

“I know,” Tyrell replied in an irritated voice. “That’s exactly the

point.”

Aria hid a smile. Truly, she was much better as a companion for

Tyrell than Tabitha could ever be. The witch was weak, fixed on

emotions that meant nothing. Tyrell and Aria understood each other.

And should there come a time when sexual entertainment was

required, perhaps once Tyrell got another body, Aria didn’t have a

problem with providing the necessary service.

Perhaps Tabitha knew this as well, as, in spite of Tyrell’s obvious

annoyance, she continued to insist. In a way, Aria was surprised.

Surely, Tabitha must realize by now that disobeying Tyrell wasn’t the

way to draw his attention, at least not in a favorable way.

Aria mentally counted to ten, and inwardly smirked when, right on

cue, an invisible power struck Tabitha, sending her flying several feet

away. The rest of the warlocks and witches seemed torn between

running to her aid and sticking to their spots so that they wouldn’t

draw Tyrell’s wrath upon them. With a dismissive wave, Tyrell

wordlessly allowed them to tend to the now-unconscious Tabitha.

Aria would have preferred for Tyrell to kill the whore, but she

understood his point. He was merely disciplining his coven. If they

went around killing their people, they wouldn’t have the hands they

needed when the time came for the confrontation with the shifters.

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Either way, Aria had more important things to worry about than

Tabitha. Tyrell gestured for her to kneel in the center of the

pentagram. A small hand landed on her head as Tyrell spoke words in

a language she didn’t understand. She began to grow dizzy, hot,

unable to draw air in her lungs. Her wolf snarled, trying to pull away

from the foreign power invading her. Aria loved the shifter part of

her, but now, that wildness and impulsiveness was becoming a

detriment to her progress. She leashed her beast, opening her mind to

Tyrell.

A few seconds passed while pure flame seemed to engulf her. It

hurt, but Tyrell was relentless. At this point, Aria could no longer pull

away, so she desperately wished for it to be over soon. She felt as if a

drill were piercing her skull, burying itself inside her brain. She

thought that any moment now, her heart might burst out of her chest

to land at Tyrell’s feet in a bloody lump.

None of that happened. Instead, something seemed to click inside

her. The wolf howled in protest, but began to quiet down when she

realized there was no way out. And then, Aria became aware of

something new inside her, a new, amazing power. Tyrell had given

Aria what he’d promised.

At last, the warlock released her, and Aria got up on shaky legs.

Oddly enough, she felt both as weak as a newborn pup and as

powerful as a goddess. The conflicting sensations confused her,

leaving her dizzy and, to a certain extent, annoyed.

“It’ll settle soon,” Tyrell explained. “You just need to get used to

it.”

Indeed, as she listened to him speak, Aria already found her vision

clearing and her body accepting some of her new power. “So what

now?”

Tyrell rubbed his hands together in a gesture that looked very odd

on a child. “Now, we strike. Winter Tomacelli won’t even know what

hit him.”

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Aria nodded, feeling quite pleased with the plan. Everyone

expected Tyrell to strike at some of the other shifters in Japan, or

perhaps the Wades, who had been his first target. Sidhe prince Winter

had left with his mate, Corbin, and probably considered himself to be

safe in his haven.

But Tyrell didn’t take kindly to having his plans thwarted. He had

wanted Isaac Wade to kill Winter’s baby, and when Isaac had failed

to do so, he’d decided on a new idea.

Tyrell squeezed the armrests of his wheelchair and smirked. “It

will be perfect. I will leave this flawed body behind and replace the