Authors: Deborah Cooke
“Keep us posted,” Meagan said.
“I will. Take care of Jessica. You’re the spellsinger.”
“Got it,” Meagan said. “And, Zoë, be careful.”
Right. I was, after all, getting on Jared’s bike.
W
E GOT TO THE VACANT
lot, and the glamour of the library that Jared had summoned was still there.
I slanted a glance at him, wondering at the power of the spells.
This time, though, it was swirling with orange Mage light. I could see the spell pressing against the windows from the inside, as if it were full of the chaotic power of spells, spells so potent and vibrant that they couldn’t stay still for a moment. They couldn’t just glow—they had to zoom around like manic fireflies.
“Can you see the spell light?” I asked Jared quietly.
“I can feel it.” Even though we were both wearing helmets, I could hear how grim he was through the microphone. “It’s only going to get worse,” he added, which was probably true.
I got off the bike, liking that he offered me his hand, and tugged off my helmet. I watched with some amusement as he parked the motorcycle carefully.
He glanced up and caught my smile, took offense a little. “What’s so funny?”
“I’m not sure you’re going to ever need it again.” I glanced at that spell light and knew it would be some kind of miracle if we went in there and returned alive.
On the other hand, we didn’t have a lot of choice.
“Think positive,” he said.
I nodded and tried to do just that.
Even though I’d never seen spell light so vivid or frantic.
“Is it true that they mostly hunt at night?”
“Until they get stronger.”
“Can we tell how strong they are yet?”
He gave me a look, and I got it. Not without going in.
Jared fastened the helmets to the back of the bike and came to stand beside me. We were just looking at the glamour of the building. He reached out and took my hand, gave my fingers a squeeze.
“What did you get busted for?” I asked, and felt his surprise.
He glanced my way. “What difference does it make?”
“Probably not much, but I’m thinking I might not ever have the chance to ask again.” I shrugged, my gaze compelled to watch that orange spell light. “Do me a favor and get rid of one distraction.”
“Just one?” I heard the smile in his voice before I saw it.
I squeezed his hand back. “Just one.”
He heaved a sigh and considered the glamour. I knew he wasn’t really looking at it. “It was a guitar. I really wanted it. My dad could have bought it for me, but he’d never buy me a guitar.”
“Why not?”
“He thinks music is a waste of time.” Jared pursed his lips. “My dad is really successful. He makes a lot of money and he buys a lot of stuff. That’s important to him. The stuff and the way other people admire his stuff.” He shook his head. “It was never very important to me. He thinks that because we don’t want the same things, I’m just not ambitious. He thinks the music is an excuse, a way to be lazy.” He turned to look at me,
his eyes glinting. “I asked him about the guitar. We had a huge fight, not just about the guitar, but about everything. He had a lot to say about my being a disappointment and not being worthy of being his son.”
“Ouch.”
“I was mad and I was done. I went and took what I wanted. The owner knew me, though, because I’d been in to admire that guitar so many times. It didn’t take a brilliant cop to follow the bread crumbs to me.” He grimaced. “I was stupid.”
“Why didn’t you just get a job or do something to earn the money to pay for it?”
“Impatience. I wanted to impress some people, some people who didn’t deserve to be impressed.”
He wasn’t looking at me, but his words made me remember my own act of theft. I’d stolen the carrier for a pizza to impress Adrian, the apprentice Mage. I’d returned it, but still.
That gave me an idea. “Were the Mages trying to recruit you then?”
“What difference does it make?”
“Well, their spells can make people do things they wouldn’t do otherwise. They can make you think things and act in ways you wouldn’t usually.…”
Jared squeezed my fingers. “Thanks, dragon girl, but you don’t need to find an excuse for me.” He released my hand, then held up his right hand. “This is the hand that broke the store window.” He looked at his left hand. “And this is the hand that took the guitar from the display.” He met my gaze, his expression resolute. “It doesn’t really matter what influenced me to do what I did. I did it. I had to answer for it. And I can never change the fact that I did it.”
“Did you go to jail?”
“No. My dad knows people. He tried to fix it, the deal
being that he’d be rid of me forever in exchange. I had to work in that store for six months for free, and give back the guitar. It turned out to be the best thing that ever happened to me. The owner was really cool and encouraged me to learn to play better. That’s where I met my bandmates and where I realized what I wanted to do with my life.”
“Did you tell your dad?”
“No point. He’ll always think I’m a loser with no ambition.” He shrugged and glanced at me, cautious. “Besides, he doesn’t have a son anymore.”
“I don’t think you’re a loser.”
He considered me and I saw the glint of hope in his eyes. He spoke softly then, his words making me shiver. “Maybe dragons do see beyond the surface.”
“Maybe.”
“Donovan was the only one who stood by me. He sold me the Ducati cheap, because he knew I loved it and would take care of it. Dragons have always been there for me. Which is why I wanted to meet you, to meet the only dragon girl there is.” He turned to face the glamour while I tried to deal with the lump in my throat, and he took my hand in his once more. “Maybe this is what it’s all about, Zoë. Maybe finishing these ShadowEaters—and by extension the Mages—is why we met and why we connect.”
“I don’t think so. I don’t think that’s good enough.”
He smiled at me. “Saving the last four kinds of shifters isn’t enough for you?”
“Not nearly.”
“Maybe that’s what I like about you, dragon girl. You’re not one to go with the easy choice.”
“I’m a dragon,” I said with pride. “We don’t do subtle.”
“No, I guess not.” He looked at me and my heart nearly broke with yearning. But that spell light was dancing and
tugging at my attention, so strong that it drew my gaze even from Jared.
“So, what do you say?” I said, acting all cavalier. “Shall we kick some butt and save the world?”
“It’s too early for lunch,” Jared said with a grin. “We might as well do it.”
And we marched up the steps, hand in hand.
This time, the glamour didn’t waver.
It glowed.
I refused to think that it was a glow of anticipation.
T
HE WINDOWS WERE SO FILLED
with golden spell light, it appeared as if the interior of the building was on fire. Even though it was an illusion, it felt foolish to be walking closer. Once again, the street was completely vacant. We could have been the last two people left on the planet.
Maybe that was the effect of the spell. My heart was pounding, not just because Jared was holding my hand so tightly and his shoulder was brushing against mine. I could feel a beat, one that resonated through my whole body and shook my bones.
Jared started to hum. I saw a purple and blue spell unfurl from his lips, sweeping around us. It was small, a gossamer net, and I wondered whether he was trying to fake them out by pretending to be a less powerful spellsinger than he was. I had to assume that he could buttress that filigree net and be quick if necessary.
I hoped he was quick enough.
We reached the double doors. I took a shaking breath, uncertain what we’d find inside. Jared gave my fingers one last squeeze, then released my hand and opened the door.
At his touch on the door handle, the glamour collapsed into nothing.
We were falling—right at the same moment that the ShadowEaters swarmed us. There were thousands of them, snapping and licking and biting, pressing against us on all sides. They were more powerful than I’d expected—they’d let me underestimate them until it was too late.
Jared shouted, losing the rhythm of his spell, and I couldn’t tell whether he could see them or just sense them. It didn’t matter. They were blinding in their brilliance and their sheer quantity. They snatched at us as we tumbled, and I felt the graze of teeth. The spell light danced around us like a web, and there was only one thing I could do.
I called to the shimmer and, in a flash of pale blue, I shifted to my dragon form. I snatched Jared up and leapt into the darkness, soaring high in the air. A wind erupted, swirling around us like an angry hurricane, and the ShadowEaters shouted. Jared began to sing, brilliant purple spell light spilling from his mouth to surround us like a cocoon.
Jared gave a shout of triumph as I flew higher and I cleared both the turbulence and the ShadowEaters. I turned then, looking down at the ground. They were there, their golden eyes gleaming in the darkness, and I wasn’t really surprised when the first one leapt to snatch at us.
“The first guard,” Jared said.
He was right. They were a distraction.
I peered into the shadows beyond them. With my sharper sight, I could see a nexus of spell light far below. It was leaping and sparking like a bonfire lit in a trash can.
If I wasn’t completely disoriented, it was at the same spot where Trevor and Adrian had summoned the ShadowEaters.
There was a spellbound figure beside the bonfire.
Was it Kohana?
“Sing,” I said to Jared, then dove toward the flickering golden light. He sang with vigor, throwing out his hands as
he conjured an impressive shell of purple and blue spell light. He wove it around us, shaping the spell with such dexterity that I knew he’d been practicing for this moment. We were inside a mesh cocoon of his spell light that repelled the assault of the orange spells. Jared’s spell wove and sheltered, like a gleaming net. Theirs were all spikes and points and lightning bolts intended to cause as much damage as possible.
The ShadowEaters howled in anticipation of a feast, leaping toward me and snatching at my claws and wings. I soared through them like a fighter jet, protected by Jared’s counterspell and targeting the bonfire. It might be a lure, but it was where the prize could be found. Those spells seemed to respond to my proximity, and the flames leapt higher as I dove toward them.
I saw Trevor. I saw the book that he was consulting, reading it like a songbook. I saw Kohana bound on the ground before the bonfire, shifting shape rapidly between human and Thunderbird form.
I chose to believe that this wasn’t a trick, that Kohana really was in danger. It was a risk, given his history, but I couldn’t do otherwise.
As I dove toward them, the ShadowEaters pressed behind us, pushing us closer in a way that did nothing for my confidence. Trevor suddenly and triumphantly pulled the NightBlade from his sleeve. They hooted and clustered near him, anticipation making them vibrate in the air. I raced toward him, talons outstretched. That was when I saw two more figures spellbound on the ground.
Nick and Isabelle.
Motionless.
And Suzanne was sitting beside them, as if she had been frozen in stone.
“The sacrifice,” Jared whispered, and I knew he was right. Trevor intended to join the ShadowEaters, too. “Put me down,” he instructed tersely.
“But…”
“I need to brace my feet to sing properly, and you don’t need the deadweight.”
I chose not to think about the literal meaning of what he’d said. I set him down as easily as I could without slowing down very much, and he gave me a thumbs-up.
Just as he’d said, his spellsong became suddenly brighter, swirling up to surround me like a protective cloak.
Trevor continued his invocation, then pivoted with a flourish. “Shadow and blood!” he cried, and reached for Suzanne. I watched in horror as he slit her throat and she tumbled to the ground, like a doll. He laughed, turning toward Nick and Isabelle with glee. I plummeted toward the earth and snatched the NightBlade out of his hand, the sharp edge still dripping with blood.
“No!” Trevor shouted, not releasing his grasp on the handle. His eyes were radiant gold, as filled with spell light as those of the ShadowEaters.
I soared high, but he hung on with superhuman strength.
I had the NightBlade but wasn’t sure what to do with it. I didn’t want to use it, because I was afraid it would twist my impulse to its own purposes. I wanted to ruin it. But I had no idea how—and there was no guarantee that any plans I made with it in my grasp would be my own.
They might be the will of the NightBlade.
I tried to sing the note that Sigmund had delivered in that message, well aware that I am officially tone-deaf. It couldn’t have been the right note, or maybe it didn’t matter, because it made no difference to anything.
Then Trevor began to snap at my shadow. His features dissolved as I watched, his clothes disappearing and his body becoming an anonymous skin filled with light.
I thrashed, flying haphazardly in an attempt to shake him off. He finally locked his teeth on my shadow and ripped a bite free with such savage force that I felt as if my soul were being torn. He laughed again, exultant, then threw himself into the air to join his fellows. I was stunned that he left me in possession of the NightBlade, as if it didn’t matter.
I looked down to see a ShadowEater taking a bite from Kohana’s shadow, delighting in ripping it away from his body. I heard Kohana cry out; then the ShadowEater joined its fellows. They swirled in the sky, mingling and whirling, potent and disgusting.
Then they circled and prepared to dive toward the bonfire to finish what they’d begun.
They were going to have a feast.
On Nick and Isabelle.
Over my dead body.
Jared had taken advantage of their momentary absence. He sang with all his might, widening the cocoon of spell light to protect the three captives. He could have been weaving a bubble over them, one that defended them from the ShadowEaters’ assault. I felt their indecision like a tangible force, then knew their choice a heartbeat before they made it.