[Southern Arcana 3.0] Deadlock (21 page)

Mahalia hummed softly. “Have a little faith, Alec. Don’t give it more power than it really has.”

Easy enough to say if you weren’t a shapeshifter, and he would have told her as much if Michelle hadn’t appeared in the doorway. It was the first time he’d seen her without her baby clutched protectively in her arms, but that wasn’t what raised the hair on the back of his neck. Power pulsed around her, the kind he’d almost forgotten dwelled in her slight body.

Michelle Peyton was a dangerous woman. A determined one. Having that power on his side eased some tension inside him. “Ready?”

She nodded, then looked to Mahalia. “Does he know?”

“Enough to start,” she answered. “He can do it.”

Alec tensed. “Do what?”

“The loose ends,” Mahalia whispered. “The ones tied up in you. You have to let them go.”

Let go. Great. Something he was fucking fantastic at. “What happens if I can’t?”

Her stare was steady. Implacable. “You have to.”

“Because it will hurt her if I don’t?”

“Because this won’t work if you don’t.”

Well, at least he had motivation. He nodded and rose, offering Mahalia his hand. “Let’s do this.”

Every single step down the dark hallway seemed to take an eternity. Carmen waited in the middle of the floor in the den, her knees drawn up to her chest, though she scrambled to her feet when they walked in. “Hi.”

Alec crossed the floor and ignored everyone else as he pulled Carmen into his arms. “Hey, sweetheart. How you doing?”

“All right.” She clutched his shirt. “Michelle’s very soothing.”

Not something Michelle heard often, he’d bet. He smoothed Carmen’s hair down and held her close, and now that he knew what he was looking for it was easy to feel the wild little curl of magic between them. Not so much, just enough to make the world a little fuzzier, to make everything that wasn’t her seem distant. Less important.

Michelle stepped up beside them. “It’s time.”

Carmen pulled back, and the look in her eyes told him that she’d already heard the hard truth Mahalia had laid out. “I guess we’ll know soon,” she murmured. “What’s real, and what’s…” She trailed off and looked away.

“Hey.” He turned her face back to his. “I like you, Carmen Mendoza. Mating instinct doesn’t cause that. Keep that in mind, huh?”

“I know.” She smiled, almost hesitantly. “Mahalia explained domino strategy to me, so I want a rematch.”

It made him laugh. “Did Mahalia tell you I always win? Maybe you should get Kat to explain it to you instead.”

“I’ll figure it out.” Her hand closed around his. “I’m smart.”

“Yeah, you are.” Alec looked to Mahalia. “So what do we do?”

“Don’t move.” She laid one hand on the back of his neck and the other on Carmen’s, her eyes closed and her brow furrowed in concentration. “Relax.”

Easier said than done. Magic brushed over him, an oddly insistent tugging, like someone plucking at the power just beneath his skin. Try as he might, he couldn’t keep from tensing. “Mahalia, explanations make me relax.”

“Right now, I’m trying to separate the two of you. Unweave where this magic inside her has latched on to you. That has to come first.”

His hands tightened on Carmen, and he forced himself to relax. To hold her gently. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” Mahalia said. “Concentrate on letting go.”

The plucking grew worse, until he felt like a pair of boots with someone jerking at the laces. When he glanced at Michelle she had her eyes closed, her face serene as she held out both hands, palms toward them. A moment later, she frowned. “Alec?”

He fought the urge to snarl at her. He lost. “What?”

“Focus on the way you feel before a change. The way you make everything quiet, just before you reach for the magic.”

Alec closed his eyes and tried. He concentrated on the wildness inside, the wolf who paced like an angry animal at the zoo, biding its time. The wolf didn’t want to relax, didn’t want to lose the wild, near-feral she-wolf it had marked.

Carmen whispered his name, her fingers squeezing his.

He had to let go, or he’d lose her in a far more devastating fashion. He smoothed his thumbs over her knuckles, using the soft, gentle touch as an anchor as the first knot of magic binding them together unraveled.

She made a soft noise of pain, almost a whimper, followed by a shaky sigh. Her hands turned, urged his to do the same, until they stood there, palm to palm, with the bonds between them quickly fading.

And then…nothing.

Quiet.

For the first time in nine days, his head cleared. The world snapped into focus, though he hadn’t realized how blurry it had gotten. With instinct settled he could think again, and the wolf echoed his sharp relief. Control had never been a human ideal he imposed on his baser half—he
was
control.

Usually.

Now he had control. He dragged in a deep breath, filled himself with Carmen’s scent—and found it no less arousing. Attraction was still there, even sharper now that he could find the boundaries of it. It was real. It was his.

She would be his too.
Soon.

Mahalia dropped her hand from Alec’s neck and stepped closer to Carmen. “I wish I could say that was the worst of it, honey, but that was only the beginning.”

“I know.” She stared up at him, the vicious bite of loss darkening her eyes. “But I’ll be fine.”

“You’ll be fine,” he repeated, making the words firm. “I’ll be right here, Carmen. Through all of it.”

“Sure you will,” Mahalia cut in, “but later. You have to go now, Alec.”

Everything in him, wolf and man alike, rebelled. “Like hell.”

“It’s too risky for you to stay. Right now, the only thing keeping her magic from latching on to you again is that Michelle and I are holding it at bay. We can’t afford to expend that energy, not if we’re going to help Carmen.”

The woman knew how to cut his legs out from under him. Alec reached up to touch Carmen’s cheek. “You gonna be okay?”

“Don’t worry too much about me,” she whispered. “I’ll see you in a little while.”

“Yeah, you will,” he promised. He dropped his hand from her cheek. Stepped back.

Turning and walking out of the room was the hardest thing he’d done in years.

Nothing had prepared Carmen for how much it would hurt.

Another burst of pain splintered through her, and she bit her lip until she tasted blood.
Hurt
didn’t describe the tearing that grew worse as each second ticked by. It didn’t belong inside her, this magic, but it had rooted itself in her anyway, and every rhythmic word that fell from Mahalia’s lips ripped away another layer.

The soft chanting faltered, and the witch blew out a shaky breath. “I think…we might need to stop for a minute.”

Carmen opened her eyes, and marveled with slight detachment at the way her vision swam, with lights and colors playing at the periphery of the room. Then she realized it wasn’t her eyes at all, but actual magic swirling around them. She wasn’t used to such displays, and it made her shudder.

“Nothing to worry about.” Even as Mahalia spoke, the sparkles died away, fading into nothingness. “Just a little flashy magic.”

The woman’s dark skin was ashen, and Carmen wondered what the hell
she
looked like. “Want to tell me why you really made Alec leave the room?”

Mahalia answered with a rusty chuckle. “Never can put anything over on the empaths. Y’all feel too much.”

“Maybe.” She’d seen her share of loved ones freak out at the sight of someone in pain, and sometimes ignorance was bliss. For a man like Alec, though, waiting would be torture. “How much longer?”

“Depends.” She cast a look at Michelle. “What do you think?”

Michelle, at least, looked composed—if you ignored the tension around her eyes and the thin sheen of sweat on her forehead. “We’re getting toward the end of the most painful parts, but there’s a long way yet to go.”

Carmen gripped Mahalia’s hand. “She said this wouldn’t harm the two of you. Was she lying to make me feel better?”

“Michelle doesn’t lie, honey. It’s not in her nature.”

Michelle smiled. “I wouldn’t say that’s entirely true, but in this case…no, Carmen. It’s not dangerous for us. It does take a lot of concentration, though, which is why a few minutes of rest won’t hurt.”

“Okay.” The truth of the Seer’s words was clear, and it allowed Carmen to relax. The echoes of pain had already begun to drift away. Her body expected more agony, some sort of lingering wound to show for it, but she felt fine, and the end result was disorienting. “It’s strange, almost…”

“Easily forgotten. Not anything like physical pain,” Mahalia agreed.

“It’s all in your mind.” Michelle smoothed a few stray hairs back into her otherwise immaculate bun. “The easiest pain to recover from.”

In every way but one. Alec had left, and the ache of separation was fresh and sharp. It was useless to worry about it, to wonder what would happen between them with the magic gone. He would feel the same or he wouldn’t, and foreknowledge of neither outcome would change the decision she’d made.

She had to be herself.

“You think too much,” Mahalia observed.

“So I’ve been told.”

Michelle tilted her head and studied Carmen, an odd curiosity in her eyes. “It’s not a common tendency in the empaths I’ve known.”

Something Carmen had heard time and again. “I was like this before I even remember being psychic. My mother used to tell me it was a good combination.”

“Heart and mind. It is a good combination. A powerful one.”

“Sometimes it gets me in trouble.” Like when there were no rational answers to be had, only trust and faith. “Like when I can’t shut my brain off.”

“Ohhh.” Mahalia lowered herself to a leather chair and shook her head. “At least you and Alec won’t have the same problem in that respect.”

“Be nice, Mahalia,” Michelle murmured.

“I’m not being ugly, and Alec would be the first to tell you it’s true. He’s all about—”

“Instinct,” Carmen finished for her.

“That’s right, instinct.” Mahalia leaned forward in the chair, bracing her hands on her knees. “Gut.”

Michelle didn’t relent. “Instinct’s just another way of thinking. A faster way. Some of it we’re born with, and some of it we learn. Instinct is experience reminding us of the things we’ve already thought about.”

“You’re right, of course.”

“Alec thinks,” Carmen told them. “All the time, about everything. Every single possibility in every single circumstance.”

Mahalia smiled. “Michelle’s definition of instinct.”

“And while we’re on the topic…” Michelle’s smile faded. “My instinct tells me that the sooner we get this done, the better.”

From the way Mahalia’s expression sobered, as well, it wouldn’t be pleasant. “I’m ready.”

“Carmen?”

It won’t last long. Get it over with.
“Like you said, the sooner, the better.”

Michelle stepped forward and held out both her hands. “This next bit will be the worst. Mahalia’s laid the groundwork. She’s separated enough of the magic to protect you for this. But now I have to tear it out.”

A terrifying thought, because surely this had to be the dangerous part. “It’s only in my mind, right? The pain?”

“It’s only in your mind,” Michelle confirmed. Then she hesitated. “Are you a strong projective empath?”

“No, not usually. I have to try—” She broke off and bit her lip. “Should I take a few minutes, make sure my shields hold?”

“No. If you’re not very strong, I can contain it. But if you’d been like Kat… Well, it would have been different.”

“No.” She’d felt the sheer amount of power that emanated from Kat. Even with shields and iron will, it spilled over. “Nothing like that.”

“Good. In that case…” Michelle’s fingers tightened. “Just hold on.”

Oh dear God.

Everything before was nothing compared to the thick blaze of anguish that rocked Carmen. Her head pounded, and she wanted to scream but no sound would come. She felt as though she was teetering on the edge of a void, a deep, dark vortex, and with one more tiny push, she’d disappear into it.

It’s in your mind.
The voice, her own and not, echoed through her.
Meditate. Build your walls.
If it kept her in and the world out, surely it could protect her from this torment.

In her mind, Carmen made herself as small as possible, bent low against the screaming pain, and began to build.

When twenty-nine minutes of tense prowling ticked over into a half hour, Alec gave up pacing the hallways and went in search of Luciano.

The ranch was a sprawling building, a mix of older construction and new additions. It was easy to spot the money in the quiet decorations, understated in a way that usually meant someone had taste—and social status. Old money, like his mother, who had turned her husband’s Texas ranch into the sort of place magazines fought to photograph.

Luciano’s home was different. Tasteful, sure, but lived in. Photographs of horses lined one of the hallways, some artistic black and white, some more casual. Following Luciano’s scent led him down another hallway, this one lined with more recent photos.

Kat grinned at him from one picture, an arm looped around her cousin’s neck and a Santa hat perched crookedly on her head. Derek’s smile was wide enough to split his face in two, and the next photo showed him and his wife, Nicole wrapped half around him, her brown eyes alive with joy. A third had Michelle and Nicole together in front of a Christmas tree, and even Michelle’s usual sadness seemed less piercing.

Family pictures. Little Nicole Peyton had made a family here in spite of all of the odds. She’d told the supernatural world and its endless rules about who she could and couldn’t marry to go fuck itself, and had picked the man she loved. Then she’d left.

For all his protestations, for all of his damn rationalizations, it was the one thing Alec had never done. He’d never just…walked away, not even when he’d married Heidi. He’d still played the political games. Tweaked the Conclave’s tail sometimes just because he could. Because someone had to.

Maybe it was time that someone wasn’t him.

The pictures ended at an open doorway, and through it he found Luciano sitting in a wide rocking chair beside a crackling fire, Michelle’s baby cradled in one arm.