Fate Forsaken (12 page)

As the lights glittering in the distance reappeared, she took a deep breath, grateful to feel a little more awake. She’d been so tired lately. Maybe she needed to feed more often? With all of the traveling and fighting they’d been doing lately, it was no surprise she’d been feeling so exhausted.

With their fight behind them, Rho and Eldon trudged up the hill toward the Sacré Coeur. When they finally reached the steps of the basilica, they stopped.

Rho glanced away from the towering white structure, taking in the stunning view from the summit. “It’s so pretty up here.”

“I thought you’d like it.”

“Paris just keeps getting better and better. I’d love to see this in the daylight.”

He gave her hand a gentle squeeze before tugging her toward the door. “Come on. We have work to do.”

Reluctantly, she turned away from the lovely skyline and glanced up at the three massive arches towering over the steps. The night was still, not a single person in sight. City noise rumbled in the background, but the source was far below them. Traffic didn’t travel this far uphill, and definitely not this late at night—er, early in the morning, technically.

“No one’s here.” She stated the obvious as she let her senses extend into the night, trying to pinpoint even a single person. “Where are we supposed to meet them?”

“In the dome.”

Rho gazed up at the massive white structure, trying to figure out… Oh. She pointed to the rounded roof at the top of the basilica. “
That
dome?”

“That’s the only dome I see,” he answered dryly.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

He shook his head and gave her hand another tug. “Come on.”

“We’re just going to walk in?”

“Did you have a better plan?”

Well, no. “Won’t somebody notice us?”

“Nah.” He hiked up the white travertine steps, and she followed along behind him, glancing around her. Her vision remained clear instead of hazy blue, indicating he hadn’t thrown up a protection circle.

The massive, intricately scrolled bronze doors made her feel tiny as she stood in front of them. “You have some grand strategy about how we’re getting in here? Because I’m guessing you still won’t jump me.”

Eldon surveyed the door and shrugged. “Wasn’t planning on it.”

“Do share your brilliant scheme.”

He lifted a hand and tugged the thick brass ring secured to one of the doors, but the structure didn’t budge.

She snorted. “Seriously? You think they’re going to let you wander into a piece of French history at, oh, four in the morning?”

“You know,” he said as he ran his fingers along the outside edge of the left door, “you really need to learn how to do that misting thing. I’ve heard vamps can do that.”

“Only the old ones.” She followed his movements as he traced the door. Did he think he could find another trap opening? “I’m so young I still smell like baby powder.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Oh? What do I smell like then?”

His eyes were heated as he turned to face her. “Apples.”

“Really?”
Note to self
—
buy more apple shampoo.
Given the glimmer of approval in his eyes, he liked it. A lot.

He continued prodding the door for a few more minutes before finally giving in and taking a step back. “Should be easy enough just to sneak in. The nuns won’t be running around just yet.”

“Nuns?” In all the beauty of this place, she’d completely forgotten the purpose of the actual building. People worked here.

“It
is
a church.” Eldon gave her a slight smile.

She shot him a dirty look. “You are such a smart—”

A silver blade slammed into the bronze door only an inch from Rho’s head then clattered to the ground. They both hit the ground so fast she nearly beat the blade to the concrete.

Rho snapped her head up just in time to see Preshea running full-out across the cobblestone path. In the form of a white Bengal tiger.

Chapter Twelve

O
h, hell. Not again.

Rho pulled herself into a crouch then launched off the top of the basilica steps and onto the cobblestone walkway below. Landing on one knee, she whipped out a dagger from her left boot. Thank God she’d made a habit of carrying a spare, even when they weren’t fighting. Some things you just couldn’t plan.

She tucked her back against a travertine wall and squeezed the grip of her dagger. If Preshea took on her alternate form, there had to be a threat. Tim wasn’t with her, either, which could only mean he’d found trouble of his own.

To think, a minute ago she’d been busy getting laid, so worried about her own problems she’d completely ignored everything else. They could have literally been caught with their pants down, leaving their teammates high and dry and possibly even hurt.

Really responsible.

With a curse, she glanced at the ceiling and the surrounding walls. The three massive arches above her could stave off stray bullets, but they’d be as helpful as a wet blanket when it came to magick.

They needed more weapons. And they needed to consolidate their forces. Divide and conquer wasn’t a good strategy when only one person on the team could play with ley line fire.

  “Eldon!” she shouted over her shoulder before swiveling around to spot him. He hadn’t moved. “Find Tim!”

Brows drawn in concern, his gaze bounced between her and the darkness.

Damn it, she didn’t need a babysitter. “Go!”

He stared at her for only a moment longer, his eyes somehow conveying a silent command to stay safe. Message received. She answered him with a tiny smile. With a quick nod and a pop of blue light, he vanished.

Rho wheeled around and sniffed the air, trying to get a bead on where the shifter had gone. Weretigers were massive but faster than they looked. No telling where she could have run to by now. Or what she’d done.

Rho stifled a shiver. Last time they’d gone hand-to-hand with the enemy, Preshea had split a man in half. With her bare hands.

The sour stink of anger mixed with the stench of feline stole Rho’s attention. She followed it. Stepping quickly from pillar to pillar, she tried to keep her exposure to a minimum. Her single dagger was all she had in terms of defense. Like an idiot, she’d left her gun and other weapons stash back at the flat. Hadn’t really expected to need them, and clearly that had been an error on her part. The kind of error that could prove costly.

A flash of white appeared out of the corner of her eye. Rho craned her head to follow the movement. The figure streaked across the concrete path and pounced over the railing, plunging into the darkness and out of her sight.

Rho’s gaze darted around the front of the basilica. Going in without backup wasn’t the brightest idea, but she had no other choice. She needed to get to Preshea, and fast. With a running start, Rho rocketed across the uneven path and leaped over the railing.

Shit!

The grass hill turned out to be steeper than she’d anticipated and she landed hands-first on the other side of the railing. She tucked her body and rolled, throwing a leg out to try and stabilize herself. When she managed to stop, she jumped to her feet. Breaking into a light jog, she followed Preshea’s familiar scent. Lemons and kitty litter.

Bingo.

As Preshea appeared in the center of a small patch of grass, Rho tucked herself behind a tree. The magnificent weretigress pawed the soft grass, circling the man she’d been chasing.

A trace of blood wafted through the air, making Rho’s mouth water. The man had definitely been injured. He smelled divine, just the type of snack she could use right about now. She sucked in a deep breath before letting it out in a rush. What was she doing? Now was
not
the time to lose control.

Rho remained concealed behind the tree, waiting for some cue from Preshea. They needed to keep the element of surprise on their side for as long as possible. Surely the shifter knew where she was. Her senses were keen enough in her weretigress form to smell another species from a mile away.

Abruptly, Preshea shifted to her human form, the transformation instant and seamless. So much faster than a werewolf. Amazing how their clothes didn’t so much as wrinkle in the transition, either.

“Who are you? What are you doing here?” Preshea demanded, still pacing in a circle as the man did the same. He would live only until that shifter got the answers she wanted. After that, he’d better hope he could run really fast.

The man smirked. “I could ask you the same thing.”

What was he? Most of the Dwellers could pass for human, and Rho still couldn’t tell the differences based on looks alone.

“I asked you first,” Preshea said.

“Like I care.”

Rho stared at the man, trying to figure out his heritage. The tickle of magick rode through the air. He could be a magick mover, or even fae. She hoped he wasn’t the latter. They’d come across the fae twice before, and neither of those encounters had ended well.

A tingle in Rho’s right hand made her shift her blade again. She glanced down. The triquetra still sat in the center of her palm, surrounded by four moon phases. Only this time…the red and yellow circles on her magick mark were darker than the other two.

Her gaze shot up to Preshea, who rubbed her hand against her jeans then smiled.

She knew. Preshea knew Rho was nearby. Their bond was actually helping them.

“Preshea! Look out!” Rho barely had time to shout the warning before the blue ball of fire tore across the sky and narrowly missed Preshea’s shoulder.

Holy shit.
The guy played with blue fire. The green magick belonged to the fae and the blue to the movers—which made this man just like Eldon.

With a quick maneuver, Rho tried to hide herself back behind the trees. They were going to have to think fast. Eldon was nowhere to be found, so they had no way to fight fire with fire. Physical prowess was great and all, but it couldn’t hold up to magick.

The man turned his head toward the trees and squinted. Rho kept her eyes trained on him but held her breath, not moving a single muscle against the stillness of the night.

Preshea took a step closer to him.

Without warning, the man spun around and lobbed another blast of blue fire toward the shifter, but this time he didn’t stop. The balls of fire flew from his hands, following Preshea’s trajectory as she tucked and rolled with incredible speed. Charred patches of grass lined her wake, but she kept moving.

Crap!
What was Rho supposed to do? Eldon had a Glock, but he wasn’t here. The only thing she had was a fricking dagger. No way could she go into close-range combat with a guy who wielded fire like an artist with a paintbrush. That would be suicide.

Angry with herself for being ill prepared, she glared at the man tossing the fire at her teammate. What had Eldon told her before? They’d practiced a few times, and she’d only once been able to replicate what had happened with Rhyannon. But could she risk it? Did she have a choice?

Rho shifted her weight from foot to foot as she surveyed the randomly spaced trees and crunchy, mid-February grass.

Where
were
Tim and Eldon?

She couldn’t venture out from behind this tree without knowing how to use her powers. She couldn’t do anyone any good if she took a fireball to the face. That would just be irresponsible and stupid.

Important rule of combat—if you don’t know how to use your weapon, don’t.

Preshea shifted back to her human form, the mover’s target now much smaller than before. As she sprinted across the lawn, she started to wheeze. She didn’t appear to have any more weapons than Rho did, which meant her only defense would be to keep moving. No way could she keep that up forever.

Okay, new game plan.

Rho leaned slightly to her right, eyes trained on the man still throwing fire as if the supply were endless. He was at least ten feet away.

Her memory jogged back, way back, rewinding to the days when she’d been training for the guard. She flipped the dagger in her hand, palming the blade instead of the hilt. It had been a long time since she’d had to call on these skills. Now she’d have to make it count.

She lifted the blade slowly overhead, double-checking her clearances to make sure there were no obstructions. Ready. Aim.

She released the dagger in one fluid motion.

As it spun through the air, Rho held her breath. It slammed into the center of the man’s calf, his knees buckling on impact. He hit the ground, the blue fire in his hands evaporating instantly.

Rho stepped out from behind the tree and stepped toward Preshea.

The shifter just grinned before exploding into a shimmer of light, once again occupying her frightening weretigress form. With stealthy grace, she prowled toward the man.

He yanked the blade from his calf and stood on shaky legs, watching as she approached. Then he tossed a ball of blue fire.

“Preshea!” Rho shouted. The world slowed down to a crawl, an angry flare firing off in the back of her mind. She’d been here before. Not long ago, she’d almost lost Eldon in this exact same scenario.

And once again, there was no way she could get there in time.

The ball of fire ate up the short space between the man and Preshea, slamming into the shifter’s shoulder with the force of a boxer’s punch. She flailed her arms and fell backward, the wind kicking out of her lungs on impact.

Rho’s hands exploded with blue flames. Glancing down, her eyes went wide. The fire at her fingers was blue this time. Not green. This was mover magick.

She really was a siphon.

They can’t be far
. Eldon’s voice echoed in her head. Relief stormed her consciousness as the floodgate of her connection to Eldon opened.

Eldon! Come fast!

Rho?
His mental voice sounded surprised, as if he hadn’t expected the connection to open so quickly. They were getting better at this.

Hurry!

She didn’t hear as much as sense his urgency, and thank goodness for it. She needed help.

The man spun around and tossed a blaze of blue fire toward her head.

Her first instinct was to duck down, but she threw the thought aside quickly. Just like last time, this was
her
fire now. If she could rob power from the queen of the fae, this little mover should be a walk in the park.

She caught the fire in her hands, its weight no more than a feather, its fire nothing but a tingle against her fingertips. The man’s eyes widened in horror as the flame he’d intended to harm her with simply absorbed into her hands.

Focus. Whatever this was, whatever she was doing, she needed to capture this moment. She’d been too heartbroken and out-of-her-mind angry to realize what she’d done the last time, but right now she could handle this. Take it in. Absorb the sensations.

Anger at Preshea getting hit. On the edge because of Trinador being hurt. Frustration with that woman because of her past with her mate. Er, boyfriend. Whatever he was.

Anger. Guilt. Jealousy. The trifecta of siphon magick pulling, apparently. Could it really be emotions that set her off?

She waved a hand through the air, watching the fire trail behind it like a comet. Yes. She owned this. And she could siphon any brand of magick she wanted, as long as they were tapping it for her.

The man took a shaky step backward, blue fire still at his palms. Rho focused on those hands, the source of her own power. This felt…identical, actually, to the fae magick she’d held before. A faint burn registered in her brain, but nothing overwhelming. Nothing she couldn’t handle.

She needed more. And she needed him to give it to her. “Are you just going to stand there or are you going to defend yourself, asshat?”

His hands shook at his sides as she could practically see him trying to play-by-play his next moves. The fear on his face said he wasn’t going anywhere, not unless she made him.

Rho could totally do that. “Fine. Be a pussy.” She stepped over to the ground by his feet, and he limped back. When he realized she’d snatched the knife off the ground, the blue fire in his hands swelled.

Excellent. “I’m just going to play magick mover apocalypse.” She flipped the blade in her marked hand. “You get to be the mover.” Flip. Flip. “I get to see how many ways I can kill you.” She flashed him a grin then purposefully overshot her toss of the blade to his right.

The man tossed another ball of energy, his eyes wide with panic as he gave her exactly what she needed. Hook. Line. Sinker.

She grabbed onto the magick. Only this time, she didn’t let go.

As the ley line fire reached her fingers, she focused her mind on his power. She pulled the energy straight from the very essence of him, using his connection to the lines as her own, exploiting him for the gift he possessed. The pulling continued for what seemed like forever as she robbed him of the energy at his hands, stockpiling it inside of herself in some place she’d never known to exist. The sensation was a little like eating too much cake.

Fullness overwhelmed her senses, compounding until she’d had enough, the urge to let go beating out the need to stay. She relinquished her control over the power, releasing the man and sending him falling back on his ass. He dropped the line instantly.