Blood Magic (Dragon Born Alexandria Book 2) (21 page)

Marek hesitated. He looked like he was considering joining them.

“No,” Logan said. “Help Naomi protect the hybrids. Alex and I can handle the Convictionites.”

Marek looked like they’d both lost their minds, but he just turned and ran off down the hall. Logan pulled out two knives. How he still had any left after that massacre was a mystery to her, but Alex would rather count blessings than bodies. She turned, scanning the central chamber. There were multiple staircases that fed into the basement. The Convictionites could come from anywhere—or everywhere. Containing her wild magic had sapped her powers dry and numbed her senses, so she couldn’t even feel them.

“They’re taking every staircase. Simultaneously,” Logan told her.

Everywhere it was. The Convictionites sure didn’t do anything halfway. Alex wiped her sweaty hands on her pants, then drew her sword. She could already hear them coming down the stairs. She and Logan turned back-to-back.

The Convictionites streamed into the cavernous chamber from all directions, their hatred so thick that she could feel it even through her numb senses. There were mages sprinkled among them, greater threats hidden inside the swarm.

But what Alex didn’t see coming was the greatest threat of all.

A fist hammered into her arm, sending her sword flying across the room. Pain exploded inside of her as an elbow slammed into her ribcage. She collapsed to the floor, sucking in air, struggling to push herself back up. She lifted her gaze.

Logan loomed over her, his eyes glowing a radioactive green.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Magic Binds

“LOGAN,” ALEX SAID, even knowing there was no use. He couldn’t hear her, not through the vile magic the Convictionites had wrapped around him.

Logan pulled back his foot to kick her in the head—then stopped suddenly. He stepped aside to make way for the man who had just emerged from the mass of Convictionites. Dressed in a white-and-silver tunic and matching tights and boots, the man was practically glowing under the enormous floodlights blaring down from the high ceiling. That wasn’t the only reason for his eerie glow, however. He was a mage. Sort of. He didn’t feel like any mage Alex had ever come across, but there was something undeniably mage-like about his aura. If her magic had been in better shape, maybe she could have figured out exactly what he was.

His dark eyes looked down at her. “So, you are the one who’s been causing all the trouble tonight. You don’t look like much.”

“You’ll find…” Ignoring the rupture of pain in her side—and the wheeze in her breath—she pushed up from the floor. “…that I’m full of surprises.”

“My mistress has told me of your tenacity. However, now that we are face-to-face, I find myself underwhelmed.” He looked like he wanted to yawn with boredom, but considered himself too posh to do so. “I expected a great warrior mage. Instead, I found a little girl who can barely stand on her own two feet.”

“Use your vile magic to command Logan to hit you,” she told him. “And see how quickly you get up again.
If
you get up again.”

“Silly girl. I am more powerful than you could ever imagine.”

“Oh? What’s your name, hotshot?”

“They call me the Sultan.”

“So this is the all-powerful Convictionite weapon we keep hearing about. Funny, now that we are face-to-face, I find myself underwhelmed. But bonus points for the cute outfit.” She bit through the pain to smirk at him.

“Your sarcasm has not been exaggerated.” But it obviously didn’t tickle his funny bone. He still looked like he wanted to yawn.

“Sarcasm is medicine for the soul.”

“It’s not healing you.”

Haha. Alex glared at him, struggling to keep her eyes focused.

I can try to do something about that pain,
her dragon told her.

You can use healing magic?

No, but I can block out the pain until we find a proper healer.

Oh, right. If Alex’s magic had been working properly, she could have done that too. She really needed to find a way to control it. Shoving it back into hiding every time it went wild was just not working.

Ok.
But try not to make me bleed out all over the floor,
she teased her dragon.

You’re already doing that.

A moment later, the pain faded from her side. That was one problem sorted. Now on to the fifty other problems standing right in front of her.

“What do you want?” she demanded of the Sultan.

“My mistress seems to believe you’re special.” He shrugged, unconvinced. “I will bring you to her. Then our scientists will figure out what makes you tick. If you survive the tests, she might allow you to serve her.”

“Is that what she did to you? Did she torture and experiment on you until your will broke?”

“Don’t be absurd, girl. I am exactly where I want to be. Where I’m
meant
to be. We will rid the world of your filth.”

“And then?”

He frowned at her. “What do you mean?”

“If the Convictionites succeed—if they kill every supernatural on this earth—then what happens to you?”

“The virtuous will be spared,” he said quickly, automatically, like it was programmed into him.

“The virtuous supernaturals? So, you mean the supernaturals who don’t go around killing people just because they’re different? The supernaturals who aren’t trying to commit mass genocide should be ok then, right?”

“You understand nothing,” he scoffed.

“So, basically you’re giving me the standard villain’s response when he’s caught in a logical fallacy.”

“You are the villain, fiend.”

“And that’s number two. You bad guys really need to rewrite the Evil-doers Handbook.”

“There is no such thing.”

“I see.” She nodded. “So that’s the whole problem.”

“Enough of this nonsense.” The Sultan looked at Logan. “Bring her.” A vicious smile slid across his lips. “Preferably unconscious.”

“Hey, now that’s just rude,” Alex said, hopping out of the way as Logan grabbed for her.

His hands closed around empty air, but he didn’t stop. He stalked forward, cold, machine-like. Alex could smell the vile magic twisted around him, a reeking stink stew of corpses and rust. Her magic was bubbling to the surface again, so she could see it now too. A translucent, glowing lattice of silver-white threads glowed faintly against his black clothes. The same magic pulsed from the Sultan. The Convictionites weren’t using a device this time. It was the Sultan. His powers were mimicking the effect of the device, commanding the magic in Logan’s body to do his bidding.

The realization had no sooner hit her when Logan broke through her defenses. His hands closed around her arm like an iron clamp, then he pivoted and threw her across the room. She managed to turn her fall so that she landed on her feet. Logan stalked forward, his eyes like twin green search scopes. With her magic back, Alex pushed up a barrier between them and the Convictionites.

Are you sure being stuck inside this bubble with Mr. Fast and Furious is such a good idea?
her dragon asked.
 

Alex summoned a solid wall of ice between her and Logan.
I need to touch him to break the magic controlling him.

If you need to touch him, why are you putting up a big wall?

The wall shook, and grains of ice rolled down the side like silver sand.

I’m still working out the finer points of my plan
, Alex admitted.

Her dragon snorted.
You’d better work fast because your boyfriend is nearly through your pretty barrier. And just for the record, I think this is a really reckless idea.

I thought you liked reckless ideas.

I do. Usually, I’m all for grabbing the bull by the horns.

The wall let out another groan of protest. Logan hit like a battering ram.

But not that bull,
her dragon continued.
If you die, so do I. And I’d hate to rob the world of my magnificence.

I’ll keep that in mind,
Alex chuckled and took off running toward the wall.

She sprinted in hard, powerful strides, closing the distance in seconds. As she reached the wall, she sprang off the ground, launching into the air. Beneath her, the final remnants of her wall collapsed, and ice chunks poured down. Logan’s head jerked up, but for once he was too slow. She kicked both feet down on his back, slamming him face-first against the pile of dissolving ice. She landed and jumped around, pinning him down.

But before she could tear at the magic holding him, he bucked back, throwing her off of him. Her back smacked flat against the floor. She ignored her broken breathing and rolled away before his boot could stomp down on her.

This isn’t going as you’d hoped,
her dragon commented.

Not…helping.

Alex jumped to her feet. Logan was still in there. She could feel his true aura—that delectable aroma of warm spice, amber, leather, and orange—beneath the sickening stench of the Sultan’s magic. She could feel his blood burning, straining against the control. She snapped her magic at the vile power holding him. It didn’t budge. The control was too strong. This would only work if she grabbed him and shot her magic right through his body, just like she’d shot that lightning through him at Purge. She had to get closer to break the spell.

Logan grabbed a pair of iron chains from the ceiling, swinging them in opposing circles as he neared her.

“Easy, right,” she muttered, laughing weakly as her eyes followed the swish of the chains.

I have an idea.

Oh?
she asked her dragon.

Logan’s chains lashed out, quick as lightning. She darted aside to avoid the first, but the second pounded punishment into her arm.

He’s too strong,
her dragon said.
We need to unleash our magic and link together. Like the book said.

Alex jumped back, narrowly missing an iron slap to the head.
But we don’t even know how.

You have to let go, Alex. Let your magic go. Stop trying to control it. Stop trying to fight it.

No. Mages who lose control of their magic go on mad killing sprees.

Logan’s chains struck again. One twisted around her ankle, tripping her onto her back.

Those mages don’t have a dragon. You have to trust me,
her dragon assured her as she rose again, more slowly this time.

The lashes from the chains were taking their toll. The iron in them wasn’t helping matters either.

Now, Alex!

Alex closed her eyes. She dropped her pretenses, all those years of holding in her magic, all those weeks of holding it back. Like a beast unleashed, it sprang forward, scorching her blood as it tore out of her. Primitive and dangerous, it flooded her senses with undiluted power. It seared and burned and made her body convulse in waves of pure rapture.

Her dragon’s magic intertwined with hers, building, burning. Fire and ice, water and lightning, earth and wind. The elements spun together inside of her, drawing out something new. Something different. Something dragon.

Alex could feel her dragon now—
really
feel her. Their magics weren’t just twisted together; they were linked into a single, continuous blend, a harmony of mage and dragon. She opened her eyes to a world crisp and clear. Logan swung his chains around again, no longer silver blurs but linked loops of linked metal. She could track them with uncommon ease. The iron wasn’t bothering her anymore either.

Her hands darted out—almost of their own volition—and caught the chains. Gold and pink rivers of lightning shot across the metal links, crashing into Logan. The chains dropped from his hands. He’d frozen in place but not gone down. She could still feel the net of the Sultan’s magic around him, its frayed ends clinging desperately to his aura.

She stepped forward, hitting him again with lightning. He fell to his knees. She squatted in front of him and slammed the heel of her hand against his chest. She felt the binding magic shatter, releasing him from its spell. The psychopathic glean to his eyes faded out.

“Welcome back,” she said, sighing in relief.

“Alex, I—”

She held up her finger. “Just wait.”

She focused on the bubble, heat building inside of her as it billowed outward, swallowing the Convictionites in burning purple flames. The magic pierced her senses. Hot waves raged through her body, throbbing in time to her pulse. The sweet, burning sensation popped against her skin. Sweat beaded along her hairline.

Whatever that purple magic was, it sure as hell wasn’t quite fire. As the magic cascaded through her body, the flames ate through the guards, turning them to ashes in seconds. Then it puffed out, leaving her shaking with unspent spasms. Ok, that was new. And kind of terrifying.

I believe that was dragon fire,
her dragon said, smirking.

Alex looked back at Logan. Clearing her throat, she said, “Ok, you can apologize now.”

He didn’t even comment on the dragon fire—or her rather obvious reaction to it. He reached out, his hands cupping the back of her head. He kissed her quickly on the forehead, then rose.

“You’re hurt,” he said, extending his hand to her.

She took it, allowing him to pull her to her feet. “I’ll be fine.” She still couldn’t feel any pain, which was either good or really, really bad.

His gaze swept across the hall of ashes. “How did you do that?”

He sounded clinically detached, which she supposed was better than appalled. His reaction wasn’t all that surprising from an assassin with his reputation. At least this meant the two of them were equally messed up.

“Uh, well. I’m not quite sure how I did it,” she said. “I apparently just unleashed my magic.”

“And you’re sure you’re all right?” he asked. “I’m sorry.”

“Yes.” No need to mention the cascade of rapture she’d felt as the flames turned the Convictionites to ashes. She was trying hard to forget about it. “And don’t be sorry.”

He leaned in, wrapping his arms around her. Soft, teasing, his lips brushed against hers. “But I am sorry.” He kissed her long and deep, then quickly pulled back. “We have to go. More Convictionites are coming down the stairs.”