“So sad,” she said. “If only you had the kind of magic that could help the living, nephew.”
All his life, Maddox had been told what to do, how to act. He’d been trained to be afraid. He’d reacted diplomatically to hardship, dealing with difficulties as they presented themselves, but he’d never taken a stand. Never stood up for himself. Whenever he’d tried, Livius had beaten him down and stolen his confidence, laughed when Maddox felt his lowest.
Livius had never felt threatened by Maddox’s magic, because Maddox had never shown him what this magic could really do.
“You’re right,” he said now to Valoria. “My magic can’t help the living. But it can kill the living.”
With every bit of confidence he had left, he summoned what death magic he had left and focused it wholly on the goddess to give her an example of what it truly meant to be a necromancer.
Valoria gasped, her hands flying up to her throat. “What—what . . . is . . . this?” Her face blanched, her green eyes blazing like fiery emeralds. “Release . . . me!”
He shook his head, slow and stern. A calmness, a strange sense of serenity, had taken over as the magic flowed across his skin. “I don’t want to do this. I’m not a killer. But you’ve given me no choice. My magic is death magic. I don’t want to kill, but I can, and I will when I’m given no other choice.”
Her eyes widened. He knew she believed him.
Valoria had a hand in his true birth mother’s death. And Maddox knew with a deep certainty that he would have a hand in Valoria’s.
Just as he was ready to unleash the remaining darkness inside him and crush her throat completely, she turned into water before his eyes. Her liquid form splashed to the ground, breaking free of his mental grip before it gained speed and gathered itself up into a funnel and disappeared into the sky.
“Maddox!” Becca screamed.
He whipped around. Becca had been able to dodge the monstrous spirit while he’d been occupied with Valoria, but it had finally cornered her.
He searched the ground for the ring but couldn’t see it anywhere.
“Curse it, I need something silver,” he growled. “Now.”
The book lay on the ground next to the pulsing gate of shadows. He ran to it, stared down at the bronze hawk on the cover, and held it up in front of him like a shield.
“Spirit! I summon you to me,” he snarled. “Get away from her right now.”
The mutated spirit froze. With a screeching, deafening roar, it flew toward Maddox in a single stream of darkness, then crashed into the book’s front cover, disappearing into the metallic hawk.
“So it does work with more than just silver,” Maddox muttered to himself. “That’s good to know.”
Now what?
Better to be safe than sorry, he thought, then hurled the heavy book into the central eye of the gateway. As it hurtled through, the shadows swirled faster, growing smaller and smaller until what remained of the stolen magic broke free from the wheel and returned to Maddox like an obedient pet ghost.
Maddox ran toward Barnabas and pulled him from the mud pit just before he went under completely. Together with Barnabas, who was coated up to his neck in mud, they helped free Sienna and Camilla. The sisters embraced, sobbing in each other’s arms.
“Maddox,” Barnabas began, panting from the effort. “We must speak.”
“Agreed. But hold that thought.” Maddox turned. “Becca, come here.”
She was in front of him in a heartbeat, her face aglow with both horror and relief. “That was incredible,” she said. “I’m so proud of you!”
“Thank you,” he said, his voice hoarse. “Thank you so much for believing in me.”
Her smile was so bright that it made him ache. “Anytime.”
“I have a gift for you.”
She raised her eyebrows. “Really? What?”
He held out his hand. A swirl of shadows, like a tiny storm cloud, hovered over his palm.
Becca’s gaze snapped to his. “But the gateway closed. I saw it.”
He shook his head. “That gateway wasn’t for you. I believe this is enough magic to send you back to your home, but I can’t hold on to it for long.”
Her blue eyes, now filled with pain, met his. “I wish I could have more time with you.”
“Me too.”
But I have to let you go.
A shimmering tear slipped down her cheek. “I’m going to miss you so much. I’ll never forget you, Maddox. Never.”
His throat was so tight it hurt to speak. “Hurry, Becca. I can’t hold on to it for much longer.”
She nodded and pressed her hand against his.
His gaze snapped up to hers in shock. He could feel her hand in his, warm and real. Flesh and blood.
“What is this?” she asked, breathless.
A smile curled up the corner of his mouth. “Magic.”
He brought his other hand to the nape of her neck, beneath her silky braid, and pressed his lips against hers, breathing her in. Tasting her mouth, which was even sweeter than he’d imagined it would be.
And suddenly, as quickly as her earthly form had materialized, it was gone. His arms were empty, and he opened his stinging eyes to confirm it.
“She’s gone,” he whispered hoarsely.
Barnabas gently clasped his shoulder. “I’m sorry.”
“She . . . she needed to go.” He tried to nod, to remind himself this was the only truth there could be. “This isn’t her real home.”
“Doesn’t make it any easier.”
No, it definitely didn’t, he thought, his heart a lead weight in his chest.
“Just so you know,” Barnabas said after a lengthy silence between them, “I loved your mother. I loved her with all my heart and soul. I would have done anything to save her. When I lost her, I focused on trying to keep you safe. Part of that involved me having to go into hiding, so I found a place for you where I thought you’d be taken care of and grow up to be happy. I’m so sorry.”
“Sorry for what? For wanting me to be safe and happy?” Maddox shook his head. “Don’t apologize for that.”
“It didn’t work out the way I wanted it to. I’ll understand if you never want to see me again.”
“That would probably be the wisest decision. You’re a horrible influence.”
“Yes.” Barnabas nodded solemnly. “Yes, I am.”
Maddox knew he needed something substantial to take his mind off the fact that he’d just lost the girl he loved. A girl he’d never see again.
No, he thought fiercely. One day, I swear I will find you again, Becca Hatcher. I believe in happy endings, just like you do.
“You know, Barnabas,” he said when he felt ready to talk again. “We still haven’t found King Thaddeus’s daughter. I suddenly feel the need to go on a quest to recover her and put her on the throne, after we finally defeat Valoria once and for all.”
“We?”
“Yes, we.” Maddox managed a small smile, even though his heart had just been badly bruised and battered. Becca had helped him believe in himself, in his magic, so he might as well start doing something noble with it. “What do you say?”
“I don’t usually need a partner to cause trouble and mayhem,” Barnabas replied. Then he grinned. “But I’m happy to make an exception this time.”
Chapter 27
CRYSTAL
A photographer can tell a lot about a person by how they smiled.
Farrell Grayson had a few smiles in his arsenal. A self-indulgent smirk; a cold, cruel twist of his lips; and a charming, crooked grin that had managed to work its way into her heart before he’d happily stomped on it.
Markus, however, only had one smile, one that at first glance had seemed to be genuine.
He smiled down at her from his position next to her father and uncon
scious sister. “The Codex, Ms. Hatcher. If you please.”
Farrell took her arm and not so gently directed her up the stairs to the stage. She wrenched away from him the moment he loosened his grip.
“No need to struggle. Just trying to move this along,” he said. Lucas remained down on the main floor, his arms crossed, watching her with a chillingly predatory look on his face.
“Ms. Hatcher,” Markus prompted when she’d turned to look at Becca, inspecting her sister for new injuries. But Becca appeared just as she had at the hospital: pale, thin, and fragile.
“Fine,” she said through gritted teeth. “Here.” She held out the book, refusing to take another step.
He stepped closer to her, watching her curiously as if she might try to pull a prank, then gently removed the book from her grip.
Markus brushed his fingers over the bronze hawk. “This once belonged to another immortal, who exiled me for siding against her in an uprising among our kind. Ever since I first heard of this book’s existence, I’ve known that someone had sent it here to help me. If only they’d known how long it would take for me to finally have it in my hands.”
He seemed to be speaking more to himself than to Crys and his doting members.
“What does it do?” Crys asked. She couldn’t help it; she had to know.
“You met with Dr. Vega,” he replied in a thin, almost weary voice. “What does he think it can do?”
The mention of Dr. Vega made her tense. She’d chosen not to bring up his beating, but the thought of seeing him in that hospital bed made bile rise in her throat.
“He doesn’t know anything for sure, of course. All his theories about the Codex are only guesses.”
“Has he come close to translating it? This language his father called Obsidia?”
Wouldn’t he have already asked this question of Dr. Vega himself during the torture session? “No. He’s stumped,” she lied. “But he did mention something about the magic working as a gateway between worlds, which is how he thinks the book got here in the first place. Is that why you want it? So you can go back to your home?”
“Perhaps one day, but not anytime soon. There is still much for me to do here. And now that I have the Codex to help me, I feel a moral obligation to finish the work I started here. There is much evil in this world, Ms. Hatcher, and I’m determined to do what I can to crush it.”
He honestly thinks he’s a hero, she thought.
She wasn’t sure if that was sad or terrifying.
Crys bit her lip and railed against a great internal struggle to remain in control of her emotions. “I brought you the book like you asked me to. Let Becca go back to the hospital.”
“Markus promised to heal Becca and draw her out of this coma if you did as we requested,” her father spoke up. “She won’t need to return to the hospital tonight.”
Crys’s gaze shot to the immortal. “Is that true? Can you do that?”
Markus nodded, but his attention wasn’t on Crys, it was on her unconscious sister. “Dr. Vega says that her current condition has been caused by making contact with this book, but I’m not sure why that would be. It’s a mystery I’d like to solve.” Markus peered closer at Becca’s face, his brow drawing in at his forehead. “She’s lovely, Daniel.”
“Yes, she is,” Daniel agreed.
“I’ve never had the pleasure of meeting your youngest before. You adopted a child who fits in perfectly with your family.”
Crys held her breath. Markus knew Becca was adopted.
Of course he did. Her father would have told him everything.
Crys felt Farrell’s presence close to her. She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, silently cursing him. She didn’t need the distraction.
She focused instead on Markus, remembering what her mother had said about his getting weaker, how his magic had faded over the years. He was vulnerable now.
“You’re sure you can heal her?” she asked quietly. “Are you really strong enough to heal more than a paper cut?”
“Crys,” her father snapped.
She ignored his strict tone as easily as she ignored her least favorite teachers.
Markus studied her as if she were a dunce who’d finally said something interesting.
“Are you questioning the strength of my magic?”
She decided it would be smartest to play to his ego. “This world has no real magic that I know of. Obviously yours does. What must it be like for someone like you to end up in a place like this? Maybe your magic is fading, which means you won’t be able to play the hero here as much as you want to. That book would be the answer to this problem, wouldn’t it?”
His singular smile fell as he sent a sharp stare toward Crys. “I am made from magic, Ms. Hatcher.”
“Well . . . if someone made from magic starts losing their magic . . . ,” she began. “Does that mean you’re dying and you hope that book will save you?”
Markus’s eyes widened a fraction and something very unpleasant slid behind his gaze, making Crys regret speaking her thoughts aloud.
She was baiting a tiger with sharp claws and teeth.
Suddenly, Becca gasped. With a violent jerk, her back arched up off the wooden table, as if she were having a seizure. Crys gripped her hand as her sister’s eyelids fluttered and opened.
“Becca! You’re awake!” Crys dove in for a tight embrace.
“Did you heal her?” Daniel asked Markus, his voice low.
“No, this wasn’t my doing. Hold this.” He handed Daniel the Codex and moved closer to the table, his gaze now fixed on Becca.
“What’s going on?” Becca murmured, her voice hoarse. “Where am I?”
That was an excellent question. Where had that tunnel led them? Crys only knew it had to be a theater somewhere in the city, but she didn’t recognize it.
“Shh. Don’t worry about it,” Crys said. “The important thing is you’re finally awake. Can you get up?”
“I think so.”
Crys helped Becca sit up and then supported her as she stood on shaky legs.
Becca finally glanced around and noticed the gathered group of others watching her. “Um, okay. This is weird.” She frowned. “Dad? What are you doing here?”
Daniel nodded at her. “Hello, Becca. I’m glad you’re feeling better.”
Her gaze fell on the Codex, and her face froze up in shock. “That book . . .”
Crys squeezed her hand. “It’s okay. We’re leaving. We can talk about everything later, at home.”
Crys put her arm around Becca’s waist and directed her toward the stairs. Farrell stood in her path.
“Move,” Crys growled.
“Not going to happen.”
“I’m afraid I can’t let you leave, Ms. Hatcher,” Markus said.
This was what she’d been fearing the most. She felt foolish now for thinking she might be able to get away so easily. “Are you going to just stand by and watch him kill us, Dad?”
“Kill you?” Markus exclaimed. “Why would I do such a thing? Especially after you brought me the Codex. Yes, you lied to me, but that is forgivable now.”
Right. For a moment, Crys had forgotten that Markus thought he was the superhero star of his own comic book, saving the world, one teenager at a time.
“What do you suggest, Markus?” Daniel asked.
“Your elder daughter has requested to join us in our mission, so I’d like to fulfill her wish by inviting her into my society. Both her and her sister.” Markus gestured toward Farrell and Lucas. “We’ll all return to my home. They will need a comfortable place to recover.”
“What do I need to recover from?” Crys asked warily. Was this why she hadn’t been blindfolded? Because Markus had already decided how this night would end?
“You’ve been exposed to too much, too soon. It takes years f
or the rare few of my most promising followers to learn as much as you know now. I will have to give you all three marks tonight, which, I’m afraid, will be an unavoidably difficult undertaking for you. And, if you resist in any way, the recovery time will be much more extensive.”
“What the hell is he talking about?” Becca asked.
“It’s okay,” Crys said, even though she knew it wasn’t. Having one mark would be bad enough, but three could turn them both into Markus’s unquestioning minions.
“Do you take issue with my decision?” Markus asked Daniel.
“No,” he replied. “It has to be done.”
Crys’s heart twisted to hear his unquestioning agreement.
She still hadn’t heard from Julia or Jackie. She and Becca were all on their own.
Damn it, what was Jackie’s first lesson of self-defense? Why couldn’t she remember? This might be the last chance they had to attempt an escape.
“Come on, don’t make a fuss.” Farrell took Crys’s arm, but she shrugged him off. He gave her an unpleasant smirk. “Sounds like we’ll be seeing eye to eye soon enough. Maybe we’ll make this crazy romance of ours work out after all.”
She gritted her teeth.
Groin and eyeballs. That was still all she could remember, and it would have to suffice.
Crys’s father put the Codex under his arm and fished his buzzing cell phone from his pocket, glancing at the screen. He answered it, frowning.
“Who is it?” Markus asked.
Daniel glanced at him. “Jackie Kendall. She says she wants to speak to you.”
Crys looked right to Markus, eager to see his reaction. But there wasn’t one. His expression had gone completely blank, as if someone had pressed his Pause button.
Why was Jackie calling Markus?
Finally, Markus held out his hand and took the phone. He flicked his wrist at Farrell. “Leave me. All of you. Now.”
“Let’s go,” Farrell said. His grip on her was crushing, and she almost dropped her bag as he pulled her off the stage. Lucas took Becca’s arm and guided her toward the exit to the tunnels.
They descended the spiral staircase, then started down a tunnel forking in a different direction than where they’d come in.