The Protection of Ren Crown (8 page)

I could feel the raging power beneath his skin.

“
Please
,” I begged.

The currents beneath my hand slowed and the glow slowly faded from his fingers. Olivia's chest heaved, her bun was mussed, and locks of hair fell around her face.

I had never seen her so visibly affected and angry.

“As you wish,” Constantine finally said. His cheeks were flushed and his caramel eyes nearly glowed gold.

Hate and antipathy passed between Constantine and Olivia in a festering stare.

Olivia quickly and viciously rifled through the five assailants' pockets, pulling out containers of different sizes. Her furious gaze continuously darted back to Constantine, checking his movement and the button's distance to me.

I sagged. The two of them were safe. I'd think about Constantine's actions later.

Olivia ripped the remaining magic from the assailants' containers and performed a long series of motions over the men. Her gaze was piercing as she worked. Precise, deliberate magic was her forte.

She finished her movements with a dark frown on her face, then she tore the remnants of the black box from the leader's belt. She stepped away, her face nearly as flushed with the use of illegal magic as Constantine's.

“A
containment
dome?” The muscles in Olivia’s arms flexed as she gripped the shell of the broken device harder. “In the First Layer? And, there are enough regular usage containers here to give
Axer Dare
trouble,” she spat. Her eyes moved to the silver star and metal button Constantine had picked up from the ground. “And
you
? Are the checkpoints even
checking
anything anymore?”

Constantine sniped back a response, but I’d stopped listening. My hands were clenching my thighs, and I had to force my muscles to relax, and my horribly obstructed anxiety, to work its way free. Thoughts of domes and containment and Origin Magic whirled through my mind.

The dome felt familiar, but odd. Reasons for why made me clench the denim beneath my fingers even tighter.

I had researched Origin Magic domes in my search for a good containment field last term. Ganymede Circus' dome had been one such example—a marvelous creation that Raphael Verisetti had destroyed in one blow using my stolen magic.

My stolen magic wielded by someone capable of horrible things.

I focused on the men splayed on the ground, and on the leader, specifically. ‘
Verisetti
,’ he had said while looking at the top of my head.

Marked.
I had known conceptually that Raphael had done something to me, marked me somehow—as both he and Marsgrove had separately remarked upon it. I still didn't understand
what
that meant, but
where
that mark obviously resided was very unsettling.

Because like this man, and Marsgrove months ago, Professor Stevens had stared at the top of my head when I had first arrived at Excelsine. She had darkly examined me, then engineered a meeting in order to ask very specific questions about my loyalties.

Professor Stevens knew Raphael. The knowledge curled bitterly in my stomach. She had become a mentor. Another mentor, perhaps using me for her own ends. Magic roiled around inside me, poking at my cuff and vainly trying to connect to the blackened tendrils of the dome.

“Touch this again, darling,” Constantine said at my side, holding the button in the palm of his hand once more.

“No. How
dare
you.” Olivia grabbed my arm, pulling me up and away. Her gaze never left Constantine. “How did you get that through the checkpoint, Leandred? How do you
have
one?”

Olivia—calm, poised Olivia—was more flustered than I had ever seen her as she tried to file information that didn't fit into her perfectly constructed database. Olivia was used to verbally shredding people—holding a debate hall or courtroom in the palm of her hand. Today had severely put her off her normal game.

Constantine smiled. “Come now, Price. You act as if you didn't sneak prohibited items through the checkpoint as well. I consider the privilege to do so a ‘get out of jail free card’ courtesy of the ones who love us the most.”

“You aren't using that on her ever again,” she hissed.

“You have five more minutes to change your mind, Price. You hold the remnants of the device that created the dome—a device which is useless to us now.” He reached out a hand, almost touching the dome's magic that was swirling madly in poisonous shades of green and black. He smiled strangely, curling his fingers back into his palm. “Five minutes—maybe six—before it explodes with us inside. Before the entire Department task force descends upon us. If we survive at all, what do you think will happen during questioning? What do you think will happen to your delectable roommate?”

A cracking sound in the dome underscored his words.

“What can you do?” I asked without emotion. I felt...removed, as if their argument was at a distance from me. I could hear the words, but the connection to any emotional response wasn't there. Delayed shock, the disconnected portion of my mind said.

He smiled slowly, a devastating thing for most females at Excelsine. It merely registered to me in an analytical way, though. I was lifeless. Wooden. Like a tree. Like Christian in my sketch.

A small bit of emotion broke through.

“I can permanently set the memories that your roommate just modified,” he said. “A delicate operation that involves breaking into the Layer system and using the erasure spell that works on ordinary people, but instead directing it to mages. Delicate work, but I've been...doing a lot of research on the magic involved in the Layers lately.”

“No,” Olivia said harshly. “I won't allow it. The enchantment will stick on its own.”

Constantine didn't even glance her way, his gaze never leaving mine. “More importantly, the dome must be collapsed correctly, unless you want a ten-block radius destroyed along with all the people inside of that radius.”

Memories of Ganymede Circus rent my thoughts, letting more emotion through. My head shook as I wobbled it sideways in the negative. No good options.

Constantine's fingers touched my chin. “The Department will not be kind to any of us. Or to your ordinary family. I know what I'm doing. Trust me.”

I stared at him. We had worked together frequently last term and I could read him pretty well most of the time. I knew exactly why he had been doing Layer research lately.

“You need me—my magic—in order to affect the Layer system.”

It wasn't a question. I had spent my time last term researching necromancy, not Origin Magic, since Origin Magic couldn't bring my
real
brother back—it could only produce a pale approximation that echoed my thoughts and wishes. But I had absorbed a few uncomfortable and familiar facts about Origin Magic and how my own magic displayed.

And it had been obvious that Constantine had suspected things about my magic right from our first meeting.

I didn't want to think about being the monster everyone in the magic world feared. But Kinsky's paintings had reached out to me twice now, and one had transported me
through
it earlier today. A pretty big red flag of doom.

“No.” Olivia's tone was dark and final. “You aren't doing it, Ren.”

Constantine's fingers slipped from my chin and he extended to his full height, tapping his lower lip as he finally looked at her. “That little bit of stripping magic you just performed on their minds was quite dark, Price. Cause for immediate arrest. Does Mommy Dearest know what you do when you are angry?”

If we survived the collapse, the Department would come. They would arrest Olivia and find my house. And all of the faceless people celebrating in the ten-block radius around us would die. To join the Ganymede ghosts who already haunted my dreams. “Olivia—”

Olivia held out her hand, her fingers shaking with anger. “Not him. I'll do it.”

“Not a chance,” he said lazily, hand closing over the button. “You might damage Crown. I will do it or no one will.”

I extended my hand to him, but Olivia grabbed it before Constantine could. Her face was blank and she didn't answer for a long moment as her gaze clashed with his. “You will only use it for this one task. And you will swear it.”

His expression was one of dark satisfaction. “There's the selfish daughter of Helen Price who always looks out for number one. I will use this device today for the discussed purposes, by my magic I so do vow.”

I could feel the thin threads of magic from one of the containers latch onto him, sealing the vow.

Olivia had to have felt it as well, but she lifted a device she had ripped from the leader's belt and held it in a position that people in action movies used with a knife.

“Now, now, Price. You might hurt yourself.” Constantine's voice was lazy, but his eyes were narrowly focused.

Since vows worked on future magic, by including the word “today” in his declaration, Constantine was restricted from further use only for the next two hours before midnight. This obviously was not what Olivia had intended.

She was nearly spitting with rage as she faced Constantine. “Do you know how long it will take someone to drag your body back to a port after they get here to investigate, and after they see ranked terrorists on the ground? Do you think you will be revived in ten minutes, should you misstep with me?”

Exhaustion made my shoulders slump. I longed to go somewhere safe and draw and sleep and forget the craziness my world had become.

“I'm not going to hurt her.” Constantine's words were clipped, as if he didn't want to admit them.

“You want something from her. Everyone does.”

He sneered. “Including you.”

“Of course I do. That doesn't mean I'm going to let anyone else do it.”

“Great, wonderful,” I said, just wanting to go home and not think about who wanted to use me and for what purpose. I flexed my magic, but it rebounded against my cuff again, useless. “You really know how to do this?” I asked Constantine.

Constantine smoothly held out his hand. There was something fierce in his eyes as his gaze met mine. He gave a swift nod.

There were all sorts of things that people didn't agree with or like about Constantine Leandred. His brilliance and competence, though, had never been in question for me. And neither was my ability to take risks regardless of personal damage.

“No killing anyone even
accidentally,
” I added.

He gave another swift nod, all business now. I removed my hand from Olivia's still resistant grip and put it in his, letting the cold metal of the button rest between our palms. Upon permission, my magic immediately pulled into the metal, into Constantine, then out, spreading to the five figures in front of us. A whisper of sound blew on the breeze, and crackling resonated through the air. The dome drew slowly downward, draping each of us and changing from a deathly greenish black to a clear, colorless barrier, like Saran wrap pulled tightly over each nook and cranny of our being.

I could see ribbon after ribbon of magic layering and adhering. The original strand slowly shifted color over the first body.

I frowned. The engineering, design, and magic of the procedure pushed my curiosity ahead of my still horrified emotions for a moment. That didn't...seem ideal. If I were doing the repair, I would ripple the change across the section there on the right—

A thread of magic sifted back into my control and the view zoomed closer.

Yes,
there
. If the ribbons were
shifted
, then I would—

The thread of magic was once more taken from me, though this time with a far gentler hand, and my thought process also suddenly sucked down the magic stream, through the button and into Constantine. The magic over the bodies moved into the thought pattern I had designated, except once again, the actuation was outside my control.

My very thoughts were being stolen.

Panic struck me, overriding everything else. Constantine shifted, his fingertips stroking mine, unnaturally soothing my tension, forcing a layer of reassuring calm over the panicked feelings swirling beneath.

Everything knit together in less than a minute and the magic sunk into the men. It sunk in quickly, as if their bodies, brains, and magic were perfectly awaiting change. The magic dissipated outward a few short seconds later. The dome followed, but in a less natural way, thundering and creaking as it went.

A slight breeze blew over us, then everything was still.

Laughter—incongruous and wrong—from the club around the corner registered once more.

An echo of the disfiguring purple markings stood out on Constantine's skin for a moment, as if they hadn't fully healed, then gold seeped into each divot and scar, filling them and strengthening his skin back to normal.

Strengthened all of his magical reserves, as well...because he wasn't using container magic. He was using live magic, just like he would in the magical world. Numb thoughts slogged through my brain.

Using live magic in the non-magical First Layer was an impossible feat for a normal mage because the connection to the magical veins of the Earth that was available in the other Layers was not present in the First Layer. The First Layer had been deliberately freed of magic, designed to protect the non-magical people of the world by giving them a magic-free safe haven. The only way to access magic here was by bringing it in via a container or device, or by
breaking
through
the Layer system and making a connection to the Earth's magic by bypassing the system.

Bypassing the system compromised everyone's safety. Everyone's. There was a reason mages who could do such things were feared.

Even if the most upstanding member of society possessed such powers, if used as a conduit for someone else, world-ending disaster could result.

Constantine drew in a deep breath, then let out a sated smile. “Done.”

His fingers slid from mine, leaving the button in my palm. My fingers closed over it in a tight fist. My eyes were unable to focus properly and my breath returned harshly, as if it too had been stolen, then suddenly returned.