Allie Beckstrom 09 - Magic for a Price Read online

  And lashed out at the remaining people from Seattle, knocking them out before they even had a chance to block.

  I felt like I’d just been wrapped in fire, every inch of me stinging in the suddenly cold air. But it had been worth it. The fight was over. Unconscious people littered the ground. The only people standing were Collins, who as far as I could tell didn’t have blood on him, and Zayvion, who had regained his feet and was striding toward me. Zay looked angry, a little singed, but whole.

  Over his shoulder, I finally saw Shame. He stood behind a young woman, one arm wrapped around her waist, the other clamped over her mouth. He leaned down just enough so he could whisper in her ear, his eyes burning green beneath the black of his bangs, his face the cold white of the moon. He was a figure carved in alabaster and ink.

  It took me a second to register what seemed strange about him.

  Something was wrong with the woman. Like a fly held by a spider, she was stiff, wide-eyed, and terrified. And yet she didn’t raise her hands to cast magic, didn’t made a single sound.

  Shame was doing something to her—no, the magic around Shame was doing something to her. I didn’t think Shame was in control of it anymore.

  “Shame?” I said quietly.

  Zay stopped. Spun on his heel. Collins was backing away from Shame, fast.

  “Shame!” Zayvion yelled.

  “No!” I pushed Stone out of the way and ran. Not to Shame. To Zay. I caught Zayvion’s arm and pulled him back out of Shame’s reach.

  Just as the darkness around Shame lashed out, whipping through the unconscious people lying in the gravel. Shame stopped whispering. He tipped his head up to the starry sky. And laughed.

  As he drank their lives down.

  “Stop,” I said. “Shamus, don’t do this. Don’t kill them!”

  But Shame could not hear me.

  Ghostly shapes lifted up from each body, faint and misty. Whips of Death magic snapped out and pierced the ghosts. That darkness drank them down until there was nothing left, not a ghost, not a shadow. And then, not even the bodies in the gravel.

  “Fuck,” Zay whispered. “Eleanor.” I felt his fear roll through me, as mine washed through him. And in that second, neither he nor I wanted to do what we knew must be done.

  Take Shame down. No matter the cost.

  Chapter Ten

  The woman, Eleanor, was still in Shame’s arms, cradled almost lovingly against him. I didn’t know why he hadn’t killed her yet.

  Shame was no longer gaunt and skeletal, no longer as pale. He no longer looked like standing and breathing hurt. He tipped his face down and smiled at Zayvion and me. The man looked amazing. Healthy. Strong.

  But that was not our friend looking out from those eyes.

  That was a man lost to the madness of power. The power of Death magic.

  The last person I’d seen drink lives down like that was Jingo Jingo.

  “Jesus,” I breathed. “Please, Shame, let her go. We don’t want to kill anyone. That’s not who we are. That’s not who you are.”

  Zay very quietly pulled a knife from his belt. I could tell he was ready to cast a spell, to throw the knife, to shut Shame down.

  But if insane Shame put his hands on Zay, I didn’t think Zay would survive.

  “Let her go, Shame,” I tried again.

  Shame blinked. Slow, languid. Caught in the thrall, the sensual embrace of Death magic.

  “So. Sweet,” Shame said.

  Darkness around him stroked slowly, sensually over Eleanor, surrounding her. Consuming her. Her eyes closed and she slumped in his arms.

  “No!”

  Zay ran, knife and magic cutting a wicked spell. I ran, casting Shield to hold Zayvion, to keep Zayvion out of Shame’s reach, away from his touch. I couldn’t lose Zay. Refused to watch him die, even if he was trying to save Shame.

  I threw Shield around Zay, around me. It spun out like a pure blue glass, wrapping us in a bubble.

  I moaned from the pain of it, the grinding weight of magic. It felt like that single spell weighed a ton, as if magic were bleeding out of me, pulling from my skin, my bones, to feed that spell.

  Zay flicked his wrist and the spell that was caught on the edge of his blade sliced through my Shield and razored toward Shame.

  The Death magic and darkness around Shame licked out, tentacles drinking Zay’s spell down. He turned those un-Shame eyes on us again. And began chanting.

  The woman’s ghost stepped out of her body, looking confused and afraid. She tried to take a step away from Shame, tried to run, but the blackness around him snaked out and wrapped a thread around her insubstantial wrist and pulled her in close.

  “Shame?” Terric’s voice was soft, but somehow carried across the air. Even filtered through my Shield I heard it as if he were standing at my shoulder, even though he was just now pushing himself away from the inn and walking our way.

  Shame heard him too. He looked away from us to Terric.

  Terric radiated pure light, achingly beautiful. As he walked, grass sprung up around his footsteps, vines pushed through soil and rock to brush his boots, to unfurl and catch at the edge of his coat, the cuff of his sleeve.

  He was surrounded by magic, Life magic. And the world came to life around him. Life magic poured just as strong from him as Death magic poured from Shame.

  I could not tell if Terric was in control of the magic. I didn’t know if letting Terric and Shame get near each other would stop Shame or if it would spark off something else. Create something even more dangerous.

  Soul Complements can make magic break its rules. Was this how Leander and Isabelle used magic when they were alive? Was this how their madness began?

  “Don’t,” Shame said. He still hadn’t let go of Eleanor’s body. But her body hadn’t dissolved like the others. Yet.

  Terric shrugged. “I know what you want, Shamus,” he said in a voice that promised all the pleasures of mind and body. He strode over to Shame, graceful, intense.

  Shame blinked, as if trying to parse what Terric had just said. As if trying to decipher the meaning behind the words. A hint of the man I knew shadowed his eyes. “No,” he said. “You don’t.”

  Terric smiled and my breath caught at the unworldly beauty. My concentration faltered. The Shield around Zayvion and me broke and fell soundlessly to our feet.

  Zayvion’s arm was around me, holding me tight. It was the only reason I wasn’t walking toward Terric.

  That, and my fear. Of what he was. Of what he and Shame might become together.

  “Yes,” Terric said, stepping so close to Shame he could touch him if he lifted his hand. “I do.”

  He paused, held Shame’s gaze.

  And Shame could not look away.

  Terric raised his hand. Shame flinched. But Terric didn’t touch Shame. Instead, light and Life magic washed outward from his palms.

  Trees shivered from the touch of that magic, the wind stirred and the world sighed. All around Terric life sprang forth, rising in great green twisting fronds and branches at his feet, rolling outward as if stirred by a gentle breeze, brush and vines reaching to engulf them. All of that green, all of that life, created by magic, answering a call only magic could utter.

  Shame closed his eyes again, only this time, his face was tipped to a new light, to Terric. Serenity played across his features as the darkness around him drank down the light that poured free from Terric’s hands.

  As quickly as the living green vines and grasses grew, they were just as quickly drained to dust by the hunger of Death magic surrounding Shame.

  Neither Zay nor I moved. I didn’t know where Stone was, where Collins was. Maybe inside the inn, maybe back in the car. A fleeting thought crossed my mind: This was our chance. To stop Shame and Terric, or maybe to do something more. Knock them out. End them.

  I knew we should. Zay knew we should. But neither of us wanted to destroy them.

  There are no happily ever afters for Soul Complements. I’d been told th
at over and over again. I’d seen Chase and Greyson die. I’d faced the horror of what Leander and Isabelle had become.

  And even though I knew watching Shame and Terric lose themselves to the give and take, the light and dark, life and death of magic might mean I was standing by and watching them lose hold on their own minds, their own humanity, I could not bring myself to stop them.

  They were beautiful. Powerful. Primal. This was what magic was supposed to be. Dark and Light, balanced.

  Well, without the dead girl between them.

  The greenery dancing around them rose shoulder high now, bending toward Shame, reaching to him with soft green fingers.

  Death magic lashed at the green, tearing through it, burning, destroying, consuming. The plants dissolved into silver rain that pattered against gravel, and which Terric drew up again so that greenery and life bounded back, growing, thriving with riotous joy.

  Shame could not destroy faster than Terric could create. They were equal, matched. Soul Complements.

  And then, finally, Shame shuddered as if waking from a deep, hard sleep.

  The plants stopped growing. Darkness around Shame thinned to the faintest of shadows in the hollows of his skin. The light around Terric dimmed to a slight nimbus.

  And they both took that last step toward each other. Terric wrapped one arm around Shame’s shoulder, supporting him as Shame nearly fell forward with the dead woman between them.

  “Ter?” he said, realizing there was a woman in his arms. “Shit. Oh, shit. No. Eleanor.”

  Terric seemed to come to his senses, and shifted his grip so he could help Shame lower the woman to the ground.

  Her ghost stood nearby, watching, sadly.

  “No,” Shame said again, on his knees now next to her. “I didn’t. God in heaven, tell me I didn’t. Terric. Tell me I didn’t kill her.”

  Terric sat on the ground next to him. He put his hand firmly on Shame’s shoulder, as if that contact alone could hold back the panic, the horror of what Shame had done.

  “She wasn’t the only one,” Terric said softly. “They’re all dead.”

  Loss and horror hollowed Shame’s face. He swallowed, shaking his head, then stumbled up to his feet. Got about ten feet away before he was on his knees again, retching.

  Eleanor’s ghost stayed where she was, staring down at her body, and then at Terric. She seemed to make a decision and drifted over to Shame, standing several feet off to one side of him.

  Even at this distance, I could see the faint silver line that tied her to him.

  Terric didn’t get up to help Shame. I wasn’t sure if Terric could get up. He was still on his knees next to the body, his eyes closed, hands loose on his thighs. In the dark of the night, he looked bruised and beaten.

  With an unspoken agreement, Zayvion started toward Shame and I walked over to Terric.

  It was strange to push my way through ankle-high grass where just a moment ago there had been gravel. Stone was suddenly at my side and paced along with me, burbling and sniffing at the grass, before sitting on his haunches and ripping out handfuls of it that he tossed over his shoulder.

  It smelled like grass. It felt like grass and sounded like grass.

  What had they done? Magic. And using magic meant it used you back. I could not imagine what the price for this would be.

  “Terric?” I didn’t touch him.

  He opened his eyes, looked up at me. “Allie. I think…” He paused as Shame retched again. “I’m sorry. We’re sorry. It was…” His words drifted off and he just stared at me, his eyes too glassy, as if a fever raged beneath his skin.

  Zayvion was talking quietly to Shame. I heard Collins walking their way.

  “It’s done,” I said, touching Terric’s shoulder gently. I didn’t know what I expected. Heat, I guess. Or some kind of magical backlash. But he just felt like Terric, his coat a little cool in the evening air, and the soft warmth of a fever radiating from his bare skin.

  “We’ll figure it out,” I said. “Can you stand?”

  “I think so.” He moved to push up on his feet, and groaned. “God, my head.” He pressed his hand gingerly over his forehead and eyes. “Hurts.”

  I was surprised he wasn’t unconscious. That was a hell of a lot of magic to call on, and Soul Complements or not, magic always found a way to make you pay.

  “Let’s get you in the van,” I said. “Can you take a step?” I guided him away from the body, and we moved toward the van. Zayvion had already gotten Shame on his feet, and was walking with him, his hand supporting his arm.

  Shame walked like he was in a daze.

  Shock, I figured. It wasn’t that Shame hadn’t killed before. But this time he’d let magic take control of him to drink down lives and consume bodies.

  Just like the one man he most hated, Jingo Jingo, had done.

  Is this what a master of Death magic really was? A monster?

  Collins opened the van door for Zay and Shame, and they both helped Shame step inside. Eleanor sort of floated into the van to sit behind him. Then Zayvion came back and helped me with Terric, who still had one hand over his eyes.

  We got him in the van too, in the middle seat next to Shame, who was sitting upright and stiff, staring straight ahead.

  The three of us—Collins, Zay, and I—stood outside the van for a second.

  “They didn’t mean for this to happen,” I said.

  Collins just shrugged. “There is no nice way to wage a war,” he said. “We went into this knowing there would be victims. Innocent or not, those people came here with one goal—to kill us. I prefer this outcome, if you must know. Let’s get to the next well.”

  He climbed in the van and slid around to the backseat. Stone whuffled under my hand, bumped his head on Zay’s thigh, then eased his way into the back of the vehicle.

  Zay pulled the door closed. “I don’t know,” he said, answering my unspoken question of what we should do. “Shame’s in shock. How’s Terric?”

  “Speaking some. In pain. We need to take them to a doctor, or someplace where their magic can be monitored. Kevin’s?”

  “We don’t have time. Let’s call someone. Have them meet us at the Faith well.”

  “Good,” I said. “That should work. Help me with…Eleanor, okay?”

  War or not, I wasn’t going to leave her body out there in the cold where animals could get to her. Not that I had a great idea of what we should do with her body, but the least we could do was get her inside the inn.

  Zay thankfully didn’t argue with me. We walked back to where the body was lying, picked her up, and carried her to the back door.

  It occurred to me that this wasn’t the first dead body Zay and I had moved in the last couple of days.

  “Are you okay?” Zay asked.

  “I hate this,” I said.

  “I know. But you cast magic. Impact and Shield. Are you all right? You…something hurt you and you feel different to me, Allie.”

  Oh. That. I sighed. “Dad did something in my head. It hurt. A lot. And then I could access magic again. That hurts too. Of course.”

  “Did you ask him what he did?”

  “He’s unconscious.” We paused and Zayvion opened the door to the inn. The wind stirred in the trees, louder now with all that grass and shrubbery to riffle through.

  “Why can’t Shame and Terric control magic?” I asked as we brought her body down the hall we had used to get to the well. But instead of going down the stairs to the left, we opened one of the unlocked side rooms on the right.

  “Soul Complements. They came about it on the battlefield—killed people as they were drawing on each other, drawing on magic,” Zay said. “They died for each other, lived for each other. It…changed them.”

  “We died for each other,” I said. “Hell, I walked straight into death for you, Zayvion Jones.”

  We placed Eleanor gently on the floor and I looked around for a blanket or cover of some sort. This was one of the spare office areas Maeve used whe
n running the inn as an inn. There was a nice leather couch with a throw blanket on the back of it.

  “I’ve been thinking about that,” Zayvion said.

  I gathered up the blanket and paused before spreading it out over her. Eleanor had straight blond hair and a soft heart-shaped face with a long thin nose. I thought she might be in her early twenties but still looked like a teenager. “She was so young,” I said. “Too young for this.”

  Zay didn’t say anything.

  “Did you know her?” I asked.

  He nodded. “Her name was Eleanor Roth. She trained with Maeve several years ago. Had a huge crush on Shame. Not that he noticed.”

  “Why didn’t he notice her?”

  “Said she was too young and too sweet for him. That he’d ruin her.”

  I didn’t know what to say. He’d been right. He did ruin her. Although I didn’t know how young and sweet she was anymore, since she’d come here to kill us.

  I placed the blanket over Eleanor, covering her still face.

  “It’s your dad,” he said.

  “What’s my dad?”

  “I think he’s the reason we have control over magic. Or at least the reason why we haven’t done what Shame and Terric just did.”

  “Dad is the reason we haven’t lost control?” I didn’t like that idea.

  “When we last fought Leander and Isabelle, at the Life well, you left your body and came to me.” He waited until I nodded.

  “How did you let go of me, of us, and return to your body?” he asked.

  I didn’t want to say it, but I did. “Dad pulled me back.”

  Zay’s jaw tightened. He didn’t like it any more than I did. But he wasn’t the kind of man who looked away when the truth was staring right at him.

  “He was possessing you when we first tested to see if we were Soul Complements,” he said, “he’s been…in you for almost as long as he’s been dead. For almost as long as we’ve been together. Nearly a year now.”

  “So you and I haven’t really had the chance to work magic as Soul Complements, like Shame and Terric, without someone else’s interference,” I said.