The Keepers: Archer (22 page)

“Ah, the famous Grimoire and the four stones that open it.” Warrick smiled, his eyes alight with pleasure as he stared at the book.

Sienna glanced at Warrick, irritated at his triumphant expression. He was practically drooling.

She stood back, immediately starting a gentle chant in a language foreign to Warrick. He fell silent, giving her the space she needed to perform the ceremony. Her trance grew deeper, her concentration focused on the entrance to the tomb. The fire torches flickered brighter, larger, illuminating the room in bright sparks. She began rocking, chanting louder and louder, whilst the flames burned brighter, feeding on her energy.

Fire. A power so familiar to her entire essence that the magic rolled off her with ease.

And then it was over.

She fell silent, dropped her hands beside her legs, and concentrated on regaining a steady breath. Her shoulders were heaving, her heart pounding, the adrenaline soaring.

“Is it done?” Warrick asked, his voice hitched with excitement. “Is the seal of the door broken?”

Sienna nodded.

Warrick took three heavy booted strides toward her and grabbed her arm. “You’re coming with me.”

She yanked her arm away. “No way, Warrick.”

He’d already grabbed her arm again, his grip unrelenting this time, and began tugging her toward the opening.

“It won’t work, Warrick!” she snapped, slapping at his hand. She shoved him away, and quickly took several steps away from him. “I’m the witch who sealed the room. If I enter the tomb, everything I’ve just done will come crumbling down, and we’ll never get Mason out.”

Suspicion flickered through his eyes, but like a hungry dog ripe for his prize, Warrick shook it off. “So now what?”

“I’ll wait here. Bring Mason to me, and I’ll break the spell that binds him.”

Warrick’s eyes narrowed, and he slowly turned to look at her. A moment later, he marched toward her, grabbed her tiny wrist in his large calloused hand, and slammed it against the rock behind her. She didn’t flinch when he reached for the shackles, unperturbed by the chain he quickly slapped around her wrist.

Locks were of no deterrence to her. Clearly, the warlock’s senses were overshadowed by his desire to see his brother freed.

Warrick tightened the shackle on her wrist and stepped back to admire his handiwork. “My insurance policy.”

Right.

“I’m not going anywhere,” she said, trying not to sound too sweet. She simply needed the warlock to get into the damn tomb.

He didn’t reply, turned around, and disappeared into the tomb.

Sienna closed her eyes and breathed a sigh of relief.

Everything they’d fought for culminated into this one moment for Warrick. Freeing his brother and regaining his own powers.

Like hell.

Sienna had barely freed herself from the bloody shackle that bound her right wrist when Warrick came hurtling toward the entrance of the tomb.

“Where is Mason?” he shouted. He tried walking through the doorway but an invisible obstacle kept him from leaving. Roaring with fury, he slammed both hands against the sides of the rocky doorway. “You crazy bitch! What have you done?”

Sienna tossed the shackles, and wiped her hands on her jeans, the sticky blood adding another notch to her anger. Archer’s blood.

Unable to suppress the satisfied smirk, Sienna turned to face the warlock. He kept trying to walk through the door but the spell she’d cast on him remained firm, the barrier locking him inside the tomb. His face was red from rage, his eyes rounded in disbelief, his nostrils flaring.

“Where is my brother?” he roared, slamming a hand against the wall.

“Relocated, Warrick. We moved him.” She was pleased with the even tone in her voice, revelling in the triumph that he’d walked into her trap so easily.

Warrick’s warriors were still outside, but they’d handle them. With luck, they might flee once they learnt the fate of their leader. A leader now incarcerated in a gloomy, rocky tomb, about to live out the same fate as his older brother.

Sienna thought of the mysterious faces strewn across the floor in his study. A torturous end for a man, but a fit punishment for evil.

She walked toward the doorway of the tomb, ducking her head to avoid colliding with the roof lantern. She stopped in front of Warrick, a fierce jolt of triumphant pride settling inside. Aside from what he’d done to her Keepers, he was also responsible for so much pain and misery to so many innocent people. Leading up to the night they’d bound the Brogan brothers, Mason had been the more evil leader of the two and Warrick had stood by while many lives were wrecked in their quest for power and control. At some point, he’d decided to take a stand and he’d become just as evil as his brother.

But no more.

“We had a deal, Sienna!” he shouted. “Where the hell is Mason?”

“In similar lodgings to this, Warrick.”

“We had a deal!”

“I told you before; I don’t make deals with the devil.”

“You bitch!” he snapped, spittle flying out of the corner of his mouth. Fury raged in cold black eyes, his face scrunched in hatred and fear. “I’m going to kill you, Sienna. You and your pathetic Keepers!”

“Go ahead, Warrick. You’ll have all the time in the world to plot your revenge against my Keepers and me.” She gave him a wicked smile. “Pity you can’t get out.”

“You’ve messed with the wrong person, Sienna. Mark my words. You will all die. DIE!” he spat with such hatred that she stepped away. “And when I’m done with you lot, I’m going after every witch and Keeper I can find!”

“Knock yourself out, Warrick.” She headed for the door, needing to get away from him, needing her Keepers.

“Sienna!”

Ignoring him, Sienna stopped in the doorway of the tunnel and glanced back. With a quick swoop of the arm across the room, the fire lanterns blew out, plunging the small room into blackness. Not wanting to stay in the eerie room any longer, Sienna turned toward the tunnel and hastily made her way to the end.

Warrick’s vicious shouts could be heard all the way down the tunnel, and she ran the rest of the way.

God, the tomb was torture.

Hands shaking, she swiped at her brow. With a giant gasp of air, she broke through the doorway and froze, gaping at the chaos that reigned throughout the forest.

“Oh, no.” Her mouth dropped, her eyes widened, and everything inside her clenched in revulsion.

Whilst she’d been in the tomb with Warrick, a full-blown war had broken out between his warriors and her Keepers.

They’d destroyed the forest, trampled bushes and flowers, uprooted trees. Various weapons lay scattered across the ground, whilst other weapons were clutched in the hands of the warriors that surrounded her Keepers. Fire surged through the trees, the ground splattered with burning embers. The smell of smoke, mingled with raw fear and fresh blood, filled the air with sickening reality. Warlike cries echoed through the forest, followed with screams and shouts that made her blood curl.

There was so much destruction, so much blood.

An arrow surged past her with a hissing noise, and Sienna quickly rolled to the ground. Jumping to her feet, she crouched low, staring at the bloody mess around her.

She spotted Archer first, in true hand-to-hand combat, with three of the warriors. With a loud roar, he plunged a fist into a warrior’s jaw, knocking him out, and swung around to fend off the second warrior. More punches and kicks were thrown with a violence she seldom saw from him. Blood gushed from his enemy as Archer broke his nose with a swift punch to the face. Archer whirled around, aiming a lethal kick at the third warrior’s chest that sent him hurtling backward into a nearby tree. The warrior crashed against the ground, dazed and confused, but struggled to his feet.

A bolt of fire surged past Sienna, annihilating a warrior headed her way. The man tumbled backward down the stairs in a pile of flames and horrified screams. Sienna spun around, scanning the war for signs of Declan.

Surrounded by fire, his weapon of choice, Declan fought the onslaught of violent warriors. Fireballs hurled through the air, along with several lashes of red heat that resulted in painful screams from the men at the tail end of his wrath.

Two men charged Declan from behind, hoping to neutralize his brutal powers by overpowering him, but a sharp gust of wind hit them moments before they reached their target. As though they were weightless, the blast of vicious wind sent them soaring through the air and crashing against the hard ground.

Ethan charged toward Declan, swinging around so that their backs were against each other. Fighting their way through the army of warriors, they reached Archer who had begun to take strain from his injuries. Together, her Keepers formed a circle, back to back, and faced the continuous onslaught of men together.

They were as bloody as their attackers, worn, weary, and exhausted.

But they fought on.

With piercing war cries, several of the warriors charged the trio of powerful men. Declan reacted with several defensive fire bolts that plunged the approaching men to the ground in a burning inferno. The fire quickly fizzled out, and the warriors struggled to their feet.

Sienna gaped at them in horror. They were black from the burns, their skins a mangled mess of burnt flesh from the intense heat of the fire, yet they were still fighting. She scanned the forest, realizing they had all risen.

What the hell?

Sienna’s gaze zeroed in on the warrior closest to her, scanning his body, and she cursed when she spotted the chunky round pendant slung around his neck.

A protection spell.

Damn. Warrick had linked them all with a protection spell, the spelled pendant they all wore protecting his warriors from harm. And no doubt, Warrick had linked the spell to himself.

An icy hand crept across Sienna’s heart, and she drew in a sharp breath of air as realization hit her. She spun around, glaring at the entrance to the tunnel, horror washing over her.

The door to the tunnel scraped open to reveal the warlock she had just entombed with a spell of her own – a spell that wouldn’t work if he too wore the protection pendant.

Without checking, Sienna knew that he did. He’d been a step ahead of her the entire time and had faked a perfect reaction to her entrapment spell. No, no, no!

Warrick pushed through the heavy door, sweaty, angry, and flushed. A wicked grin crossed his face as black eyes found Sienna. “I had you fooled, didn’t I? I deserve top points for that performance, don’t you think?” He laughed, the sound tinged with a triumphant evil that made her skin crawl.

“Warrick.” His name came out on a whoosh of air, her heart thudding a frantic rhythm as her brain quickly rerouted a plan.

Warrick charged toward her, his smile vanishing. He lunged for her, but she quickly sidestepped him. “You bitch! You would have left me there to rot like you did with my brother.”

His warrior, Harper, stormed to the bottom of the stairs, and let out a loud, eerie warlike cry that had all the other warriors stand down.

Silence fell across the forest, the crackling of the blazing trees and a few groans of pain from the injured men the only sounds that echoed through the tension.

Warrick walked to the edge of the rocky platform and scanned his army of followers scattered throughout the forest. They were dirty, bloody, injured, and charged with adrenaline, but they waited for further instruction from their leader.

Her Keepers maintained their position, exhausted from the fight, but not backing down. They kept their backs to each other, each brother offering protection to the other, their gazes pinned on the warriors around them.

Warrick’s expression brightened when he saw them and he flashed an evil smile at Sienna. “Your Keepers look a little worse for wear.”

“They are three men against an army of yours.” Sienna was unable to keep the hatred out of her voice and gave him a hard, unblinking stare. “Considering your men are covered with a protection spell, I’d say my Keepers aren’t fairing too badly.”

“Ah, the protection spell. A helpful spell I picked up from one of the witches I killed.”

“Release my Keepers, Warrick. This is between you and me.”

Her words sent a flash of fury across his face, and his eyes clouded with darkness. “You broke our deal, Sienna. If it wasn’t for the protection spell I cast upon myself, I’d be rotting in a tomb like my brother.”

She heard the bitterness and resentment laced within his words, but refused to flinch. Her plan had backfired, but her mind scrambled for another one. And all the while, her entire body ached with the truth that this was one fight that her and her Keepers might not win.

She met Warrick’s angry gaze. “You deserve the same fate as Mason.”

“And you’ve just signed the death warrant for everyone you’ve ever loved.” Warrick nodded to Harper who quickly disappeared behind the rocks. When he returned, he had a woman slung over his shoulder. With a satisfied laugh, he dumped the woman on the platform beside Warrick. She fell to the ground with a thud, groaning softly before opening her eyes.

“Gran!” An icy chill of horror chased through Sienna, and she rushed to her grandmother’s side, breathing a sigh of relief when Rose blinked. She looked so pale, her clothes were dusty, her hair matted with a smear of blood. Sienna frantically wiped it away, her heart pounding with anger. “What happened? What did they give you?” Sienna whirled on Warrick, blind with rage. “What have you given her?”

“A dose of revenge.”

“Rose Thorn?”

“Maybe.”

She hated the way he said it, as though he’d simply given her grandmother an apple pie on a merry occasion. But this wasn’t apple pie and there was nothing merry about the moment. She glanced at her grandmother, weakened from the dreadful herb.

“Take her inside the tomb,” Warrick ordered Harper with a curt nod. “And kill her if I don’t come back.”

Sienna stepped in front of her grandmother, everything inside her aching for the older woman. She didn’t have to look around her to know the dangers that surrounded them. Even though it killed her to have her grandmother inside the tomb, she knew it was the safest place for her amidst the fight that brewed.

“I’ll come for you, Gran,” Sienna said, putting her arms around Rose. “I’ll fix this, I promise.”

Weak and weary, Rose held her tightly, placing her lips to Sienna’s ear. “You can do this, Sienna,” she whispered. “You are the chosen one. The Pure.”

Sienna nodded, not understanding her grandmother’s ramblings, but quickly brushed it aside as Harper stomped toward them. “I love you.”

“Remember Sarah,” her grandmother whispered as Harper hoisted the older woman to her feet.

Sienna’s heart shattered as she watched her grandmother disappear into the tunnel. She raised blazing eyes, full of hatred, toward Warrick. “If you hurt her, Warrick, I will spend the rest of my life making yours a misery.”

“Oh, you’ve already achieved a great deal of that, my love,” he said with a fake smile. His expression cleared, and his jaw flexed. “I’d instructed my men to harm your Keepers but keep them alive. My patience is running out and I’m about one breath away from ordering their deaths. Tell me where Mason is.”

Sienna looked at her Keepers, torn between the men she loved most and the destiny she lived for.

“Sienna, no!” Archer shouted, his voice gruff, tortured.

“Tell me, Sienna, or I will set my men on your beloved Keepers,” Warrick warned.

“Sienna!”

Deciding he’d had enough, Warrick glanced over his shoulder toward his warriors. “Kill them!” he roared, his thick rumble of words shattering the silence. “Kill them all!”

“No!” Sienna screamed, rushing forward, but a string of leafy ropes slid across her path and grasped her ankles with such speed that she gaped in surprise. A quick glance at Warrick told her what she already knew. Sarah’s powers, now his powers. A master of the earth element, meant for protecting the good. And Warrick had perfected the use of Sarah’s powers with ease. More leafy vines raced toward Sienna, crowding the others, sliding around her body in a tight grip that had her gasping. Trying to tug free from the tight vines that bound her, she sought out her Keepers. “NO!”

They’d already sprung into action, fighting for their lives against the men instructed to kill them. And this time, the fight was worse.

Vicious, brutal, an end goal of death in sight.

Warrick laughed, the sound loud and tinged with madness. He came to her, a syringe in his hands, and a triumphant jiggle to his step.

Rose Thorn.

So that had been his plan all along. He’d weakened Rose, her Keepers, and now her.

She stared at the liquid in his hand with such intensity and hatred, not even blinking when the syringe exploded.