Wilder Mage (18 page)

“Leaving? You mean, go to those auctions?”

Startled, he quickly said, “Right. Auctions.”

He started to move past her, but the grip of her hand on his arm stopped him. She was so close; he almost could have touched her brow with his lips. He wondered how that would feel, the soft skin of her forehead under his mouth, the smooth cheek when he let his lips slide down…

Savagely, he pulled away from his prohibited thoughts and then away from her hand on his arm.

Without touching him again, she closed the distance, her eyes snapping. “You are leaving, aren’t you? Because of me,” she stated.

How perceptive,
he thought. She grasped that he was leaving, but thought it was because of her. Still, it gave him a good excuse to disappear for a while if she thought she was the reason. So why did the ache in his heart make him feel like it would tear him apart?

“I need to get away for a while, and, yes, you are one of the reasons.”

When the shadows on her face appeared, Justus felt something turn inside him. She’d flinched, as if struck.

The kitten trilled. Zephyr had her head cocked sideways, looking at the silent young woman.

Angrily, he snarled, “It really doesn’t matter.”

“Okay, then,” she said. Her face smoothed of all emotion as she stared at him.

The kitten’s narrowed eyes went back to Justus. She didn’t trill.

“Okay, then,” he repeated, but then he hesitated as she turned away. He wanted to reach for her, tell her he had changed his mind, and explain away all the mystery. But in the next instant, he let his hand fall. It was better this way. Cut the ties and move on. And do it quickly.

“Tell the McIntyres I’m heading home now.”

He heard her say something in acknowledgement, but it was inaudible, a quiet sound of distress. He strode quickly to the gate before the McIntyres were aware he was leaving. Justus didn’t want Maggie, with her shrewd eyes, to come looking for him and ask questions. He roared the engine into life and slammed it into gear.

He was halfway to the shop when he remembered the interrupted cloaking spell and knew he would have to return to the McIntyres’ garden and restore the magic before he left.

That was the moment he felt the first adept.

Chapter Thirteen

J
ustus stood on his brakes in front of his shop, the tires screeching. He ran to the door, fumbling the keys into the lock. He thought of the interrupted cloaking spell at the McIntyres’ house, but shook the regret away. Nothing he could do about it now.

Sable would be all right. They wouldn’t hurt her. They wouldn’t hurt her…

He opened the door just as another shiver crawled up his arm. The wizards were close, but still several blocks away. He just had time to gather his bag and leave.

Would Sable run again? After she realized the Imperium had found her again, would she give up her life with the McIntyres?

Well, no help for it now. He had to run too. They were here.

Justus pulled his large canvas bag from behind the desk and ran back to the bar area. He stood for a moment, looked around him one last time. So much gone, so much regret, but now was not the time to wallow.

Would they hurt her? Force her? For a moment, he stood indecisive, noticing the snarl of elemental rage that curled around him had nothing to do with the wilder magic swirling around him.

He shook it off and started for the door.

The approach of an adept made him slide to a stop, and a familiar car stopped outside the door.

Sable.

In that brief moment before the realization crashed down, Justus felt relief. Relieved she was okay, relieved she was here. With him. But then he gasped. The other adepts were close, moving quickly.

There were so many of them.

He jerked the door open. Her face was pale white and she whipped her head to either side, her wide eyes searching for the ones who hunted for her.

“I w-wanted to see you before you left,” she stuttered. “But I—”

“Goddamn it, get in here!” he yelled. He dragged her into the shop, slammed the door, and hazarded a quick peek through the glass. No one, not yet. When he turned, Sable had a strange look on her face. Angry or frightened? He really didn’t have time to find out. But her next words stopped his heart.

“Who are you?” she said softly.

That was when he noticed the crackle of energies around him and the swirl of magic. He had reached for his elements without thought, and now it was like a miniature maelstrom, whirling in jets of multicolored fire.

“Nobody you want to know,” he said. “Lookit, we’ve got to hide.” He put his hand on her arm.

She pulled away, the panic in her voice combining with her wild eyes. “No, lemme go.”

He enforced his grip and dragged her to a wall of shelves filled with china patterns and tea cups and flicked his fingers. The façade vanished and a door appeared. He opened it with a touch and pulled the struggling, shrieking woman onto the landing just inside. Steps led down into a darkened stairwell. She began flailing, and one punch caught his ribs.

He grunted. Damn, she had a lot of muscle for a girl.

In between curses and ducking her fists, he touched a brass knob set in the wall by the open doorway, and the door vanished behind the released magic, once again becoming a blank, wooden wall. With more luck than grace, he got her thrashing body down the flight of stairs, collecting five or six more bruises as he did.

“Will. You. Cut it out!” he yelled and somehow avoided a knee that searched for the primary target. “I am trying to protect you.”

He cursed when the roundhouse meant for his chin thumped his cheek instead.

“Oh, sure, yeah, that makes all kinds of sense,” she said sarcastically. “You and your stupid Imperium can go get f—”

Her next words were lost against his chest as he pulled her and she fell against him. He gave a yelp when her teeth found the skin of his chest.

“Son of a…will you cut it out? Listen, listen to me.” He managed to stop her flailing and avoid her teeth by clenching one hand around her cheek, holding her head against him. “I am not a part of the Imperium, and stop
biting
.” Her teeth snapped next to his fingers. “Look, they are close and we need to lay low. Be quiet for a bit.”

For a moment, she stilled, and he heard her panting and felt the quiver of her chest as she sucked in air. “Then who are you?” she asked low and vicious.

Justus found he needed air also and his chest heaved in time with hers. “I am who I said I was. No lie. Now look, I am going to let you go. Okay? Don’t kick me anymore.”

“No promises,” she hissed.

He growled. She nodded against his chest. Slowly, he released her until she stood at arm’s length. Sable stared at him with hard eyes. While he watched, she firmed her mouth.

“So, you are a mage,” she said.

He nodded and remained silent. It was taking all his concentration to hold his fierce emotions in check. Magic called to him as he breathed heavily, interfering with his ability to answer.

“Well, this changes things.”

“Not much. The only thing it changes is, you know my secret. That I am trying to avoid the Imperium, just the same as you.”

She eyed him. “So the Imperium wants you too. But you aren’t a…you have your magic. Why are they looking for you?”

Justus looked away from her, ignoring her question. Slowly, he extended his feel for the adepts, attempting to find out how close they were to his shop. Closer, he decided. They were almost here.

“Why did you come here tonight?” he asked absently. There were several very powerful adepts here.

She hesitated and he dropped the magic to look at her pink face. Sable scuffed a foot along the floor. “I wanted to tell you to stay. This was your home way before it was mine. I decided I would leave.”

“Yeah, and how’s that working out for you?”

Her teeth bared into a soundless snarl.

He combed his fingers through his hair. “So, what then? You got here. And?”

“And I felt the hunter, somewhere close. I panicked.” She stopped. “One thing... If they break into the store, won’t they find us?”

“Nope. I closed the door to the cellar. They won’t see it.”

“But won’t they see the traces of the Earth magic or Air magic, or whatever you used?”

“No, it was fixed magic, something I did a long time ago. Like a ‘break this glass in case of emergency’ kind of thing.”

When she seemed confused, he sighed. “Fixed magic fastens the energies to an object, and when they are released, it can’t be felt. It’s only when the original magic is worked, gathered magic, that a mage can feel the elements.”

“Gee, is that so.” Sable had a sour look. “Why are they searching for you?”

Justus looked at her, but couldn’t gauge her emotions now. Her steady eyes waited. Then they both heard them. He could sense the other adepts, could hear their footsteps.

“Don’t worry.” When she shuddered, Justus held out his hand and touched the back of her hand. She didn’t jerk it away. “You are warded, and they won’t know either of us is here.”

She nodded absently, her face still pale. But in the next moment, her mouth quirked. Upstairs, he could hear floorboards creak.

“You were a little too grabby with me,” she breathed, trying not smile.

He looked at her, his mouth open. “Seriously? That’s what you are worried about, that I might have copped a feel a moment ago?”

Sable grinned and started to reply. He stopped her with his finger across her lips.

He tried to listen to the voices. Something about losing her and “that’s her car, isn’t it?” followed by a snort of disgust. “Let’s get out of here before we lose her again.” Footsteps and the front door closing.

He smiled and looked at her, relieved. Sable returned his smile with a small one of her own.

“Gone?”

“Yes,” he said. Justus sat on an old antique storage locker without brushing the dust off the lid. “The Imperium is looking for me or someone like me because I was never bonded.” He grinned humorlessly at her open mouth. “You were bonded, and they are waiting, um, for you to come into your magic. Me, they never caught, and I am the splinter under their skin, an irritant.”

“So, she never…bonded…with you,” Sable said slowly.

He grimaced and felt the fire start inside him. Absently, he rubbed his throat.

“No,” he said simply.

“But your magic…I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Justus shrugged and smiled. “Ah, well.” He stood and briskly began to make plans, how to leave the cellar and somehow take her. Or leave her. Let her choose.

“Look, we need to get you out of here or find another place for you. Did you...” He stopped at the sight of her furrowed brow. “Did you want to come with me to the antique fair in Seattle?” he continued.

She started. “Seattle? You mean it was a real trip?”

“Well, it didn’t start out that way, but now...” He shrugged. “Why not? You know about me now, and I can keep us both warded so, does it sound like a plan? You can leave with me, and the Imperium will be none the wiser. It’ll be like you’ve vanished again.”

She eyed him solemnly, unsmiling.

Justus suddenly wanted her to come with him badly. Desperation colored his voice now. “We can call the McIntyres on our way. Let them know you went with me. Then you can stay out there. If you like. With me.”

Still, she hesitated. Suddenly, that brilliant smile broke across her face. Like her prisms, it flashed as she nodded.

Plans grew and blossomed in his mind. How to travel, who to contact and when. The cities and destinations. He would need to use care, try not to let the
tener unus
affect him too much, but still, it would be pleasant. And it would solve many problems. His guilt vanished, lifting his spirits. She could be safe and not face the Guild.

He held out his hand.

And then the world ended for Justus.

He felt fire-hot needles pierce his skull. He heard screaming. In the deepest recesses of his mind, he wondered who could make such terrible sounds without ripping flesh from their throat. Then he realized it was his mouth making the animal-like noises.

He dropped to the floor as terrible agony tore into him. He felt it shred his mind and carom about inside as convulsions rocked his body. Hands stroked his hair and he heard a soothing voice, but could discern no words. There was no other universe, no other reality than the torment carving him into pieces, shattering and exploding his skull.

The voice crooned and asked questions.

Sable.

Sable was here. He tried to speak, but the words were garbled.

Sable’s face neared. “What? What is wrong?”

“Bert. Get Bert,” he gasped. “No one else.”

And then his mind descended into Hell and his awareness fled.

In the distance, near and far, Dayne heard high-pitched screams and sirens.

He stared hard at Macy’s pale face, his gut boiling with worry. Her eyes were still bright with fear, but as he watched, she straightened, then nodded. He gave her a sour grin. Cringing was obviously not a part of her curriculum today. He looked at Tiarra, who held a pendant of fiery red with a heavy-lidded eye enameled on one side. As he watched, she smiled at him.