Fate Forged Read online

  “Lucky you,” I murmured under my breath. For the first time, I wondered if the magic stuck inside me would make me live longer. I shelved that thought as quickly as it hit me. Magic had just exponentially shortened my life span, either from the murderous Brotherhood or the unpredictable Aeternal Council. Either way, I wasn’t planning to keep it.

  A second lane finally opened on the highway. I shifted to the right and accelerated around the car in front of us. “Speaking of dying young, what will happen if the Brotherhood finds me?”

  His eyebrows rose slightly.

  “Other than my painful and ritualized death, I mean. What do they want to do with all this magic?”

  He either forgot to keep score or took pity on me because he answered my second question in a row. “The Brotherhood will need enormous amounts of power to undermine the Council. It appears your Marcel stole a significant amount of the Brotherhood’s power with his Transference ritual, and they need it to accomplish their plans.”

  “Which are what, exactly?”

  He grimaced, and his eyes shifted back out the window.

  I narrowed my eyes at his sudden interest in the road ahead. “You don’t know, do you?” I accused.

  He didn’t respond.

  “Hah! That’s perfect, just perfect! You have no idea what you’re talking about, do you?”

  He turned on me. “I don’t know exactly what they plan to do with the magic after they kill you, but I’m trying to stop them from getting it in the first place. Unless you irritate me so badly, I end up doing it for them!”

  Thick silence filled the car while the miles slipped past. Part of me felt bad for intentionally pissing Silas off, but I just couldn’t figure out why he’d offered to help me. I still didn’t have any idea what he would gain from our deal since it seemed as though he was going against his bosses’ best interests. To top that off, I had no idea why this had happened to me in the first place. I didn’t understand the full puzzle yet, and the magic stuck inside me was just one of the missing pieces.

  I suddenly wished there were some way to get a hold of Father Mike. I had so many questions I just couldn’t trust Silas with. But I had no way to ask the father the questions I so desperately needed answers to while he was in some faraway magical realm.

  Silas interrupted my thoughts. “You’re an orphan?”

  The question came so out of the blue that I paused before answering. “I have no idea who my birth parents were. They gave me up when I was very young.”

  His brow furrowed. “A child abandoned in Aeterna is unheard of. You don’t remember any details about your family?”

  I shook my head. “Happens all the time in this realm,” I said levelly. I was a lifetime past any bitterness about my origins. Being on my own since I could remember had shaped me into the person I was today: independent and tough. I could carry my own no matter what life threw at me.

  We sat in silence for a few minutes as we each digested our own thoughts. There was so much I still didn’t understand. To start with, I didn’t know even the basics about the magic inside me. I felt on the verge of losing control every second.

  “Your energy isn’t the same color as Titus’s,” I said. “The patterns he used were different too. Is everyone’s magic unique, or—”

  Silas’s head whipped toward me. His eyebrows were suddenly lost in his hairline. “You can see the individual energy patterns?”

  My mind raced as I tried to order my confusion. Apparently, I wasn’t supposed to be able to see the patterns in the magic.

  Silas took a deep breath. I braced for anger, but his voice was quiet and demanding. “Tell me exactly what you can see.” The authority in his voice intimidated me more than if he had yelled.

  My eyes locked on the road in front of us, and I wet my lips. Thanks to my slip, that ability wasn’t a secret anymore. Father Mike had told me not to show Silas any more of my magic, and obviously that detail about energy patterns was important. Oops. What I’d already said couldn’t be taken back, so I might as well understand what was going on.

  “Titus’s magic—energy, whatever—was like a red starburst tinged with black. Yours is more yellow. Golden, like...” I’d almost said “Golden, like the sun,” but that would have sounded way too complimentary. He did not need an even bigger ego. “Like pee.”

  He grunted. “And you can see patterns within the conjuring?”

  “The, uh, energy looks like really thin threads of light, all twisted together into complicated patterns. Sometimes they make sense. Sometimes they’re sort of thick and layered. Makes my brain feel fuzzy.”

  Despite his carefully neutral expression, his eyes were bright with surprise.

  “Why?” I asked. “Are the patterns important? Do you think that has something to do with why this happened to me?”

  My question went unanswered as flashing blue and red lights pulled up behind us.

  Chapter Five

  The officer swaggered up to our car, one hand resting on her holstered gun. Silas glared into the rearview mirror and watched her approach. His eyes sparked with irritation, and the ever-present scowl had twisted into a near snarl. Instead of a speeding ticket, he would get us arrested if he didn’t tone down his attitude.

  The officer stopped beside the passenger’s side window and lowered her aviator sunglasses. Officer Radmall, according to her badge, looked at us over the rims.

  “Is there a problem, Officer?” I asked, channeling every cop show I’d ever seen.

  She peered into the back seat. “Do you know how fast you were going?”

  I glanced at the speedometer. “Um... no? I wasn’t paying attention, honestly.” Smooth, real smooth.

  “License and registration, please.”

  I fished out my ID then dug through the random papers Father Mike kept in the glove box. If Silas gave me a hard time about not paying attention to the speedometer, I would kick him in the teeth.

  “Where are you heading”—Radmall examined my license—“Maeve O’Neill from Boston?”

  “My brother and I are headed to...” I racked my brain for some place in our general direction and remembered the road sign I’d seen a few miles back. “Buffalo, New York to see some family. We have about a hundred miles left.” I clamped my mouth shut and resisted the urge to give her more details. I was a terrible liar.

  Not to mention, Silas and I didn’t look alike at all. He had dark, nearly black hair, and mine was auburn pushing toward red. His olive skin tone hinted at a multi-ethnic background different from my own, especially with my pale skin from the long Boston winter. I should have said he was a friend or an axe murderer I picked up on the side of the road—basically, anything other than my brother.

  “He’s adopted,” I added suddenly. Shut the hell up, dummy.

  I prayed she wouldn’t ask for his driver’s license. I was pretty sure people from magical realms didn’t have valid government IDs.

  After a long, tense pause, the officer glanced at Silas. “What’s your name?”

  Little warning bells went off in my head. I’d watched enough cop shows to know that asking for passenger names was not in the standard traffic pullover script.

  Silas smiled up at her. “Silas O’Neill.”

  I blinked in astonishment as his usual grim expression disappeared. The sun glowed on his olive skin. His sharp angles and arrogance softened, and he looked downright trustworthy. Damn. If I didn’t already know that I could see magic, I would have thought it was some kind of trick.

  Officer Radmall grinned back at him, perhaps also mesmerized. I covered up my snort with an unconvincing cough. Silas slid me serious side eye, and I tried to keep my face innocently neutral.

  The officer glanced at the registration. “And why are you driving Michael... Smithson’s car?” She leveled a cop stare at us over the top of her aviators.

  “He’s a relative,” Silas said. “We’re borrowing it.”

  “Cousin. He’s our cousin,” I said. Seriously? S
hut up, Maeve.

  “We didn’t mean to cause alarm. We can be on our way, Officer.” Silas laid the charm on thick, and I had to stop myself from rolling my eyes.

  “Stay in the car; I need to run this.” She walked back to the cruiser and picked up her radio.

  “You are a very poor liar,” Silas noted.

  “Shut up,” I said, my eyes glued to the rearview mirror.

  The seconds ticked by into minutes, and unease began to fill me. She was taking too long. My foot hovered over the gas pedal. Another minute passed as I chewed on my thumbnail.

  “Something’s wrong,” I whispered, watching Radmall talking into the radio in her car.

  “Five bloody hells,” Silas swore. “Stay in the vehicle.” Before I could object, he plopped Ripper in my lap and opened his door.

  My stomach twisted. I turned in my seat and watched Silas stalk toward the police cruiser, glowing with magic. His hands hung loosely by his sides.

  Officer Radmall flung open her door, crouched behind it, and pulled her gun. “Get back in the car!”

  Silas continued walking. His hands rose from his sides, palms out.

  My heart hammered in my throat. He was going to get shot! I reached for the door handle.

  “Stop where you are!” the officer yelled at Silas.

  Before I managed to get my door open, Silas rushed the five feet between him and the cruiser, dove toward the open driver’s side door, and kicked it into the officer.

  She fell backward, and a shot rang out.

  I ran outside and found Silas straddling Radmall. She was facedown on the ground, and he had her arms twisted behind her back.

  “Are you crazy?” I yelled. “You can’t assault a cop!”

  Thank God no one was bleeding. I scanned the highway in both directions. The road was empty, but it wouldn’t be for long.

  Silas’s magic flared a brilliant yellow that held its own against the bright sun, filling the air with a complex pattern of woven energy. The streams flowed together in a latticework of magic between him and the officer, and I was momentarily distracted by the beauty of it.

  Silas rolled Radmall onto her back, and she struggled against his hold.

  “What are you doing?” I demanded. This was a nightmare, an actual living nightmare.

  He ignored me and focused on the officer. “Don’t fight me. Don’t run... and be calm.”

  She stopped struggling. Silas released her, and she sat up slowly, her face tranquil and placid. I did a literal double take. She wasn’t running or fighting back or anything.

  “Who did you notify about us?” Silas asked her.

  “I called HQ.”

  “What did they say?”

  “Your vehicle has an APB. I’m supposed to wait until a special unit arrives.”

  “What did you do to her?” I demanded.

  “Compulsion spell.” Stone-faced, he leaned into the cruiser and grabbed our papers.

  I put both hands in my hair and pulled. This cannot be happening.

  Officer Radmall sat patiently, watching us. I suppressed a shiver.

  “We need to leave,” he said. “The Brotherhood—”

  A burst of pressure hit me in the chest, and I stumbled backward a few feet. Titus materialized between us and our car, flanked by seven beasts. They were the size of small horses but shaped like giant dogs. Tough skin stretched taut over their muscled frames, emphasizing strong, agile bodies. Hairless with mottled gray flesh, they looked like the misshapen hounds of hell. One of them bared oversized flesh-tearing teeth at me.

  Silas stepped in front of me. A sword appeared in his hand.

  “Give me the girl,” Titus snarled.

  “Tell me where they are!” Titus snarls in my face.

  I can’t lift my head from my shoulders. Everything hurts. I’m pretty sure I have a broken rib, and I can only see out of my left eye. I don’t know how long I’ve been tied to this gods-damned chair, but Titus had worked me over every minute of it.

  I hiss as Titus pulls my head up by my hair, forcing me to stare into cold blue eyes.

  “Tell me now, and I’ll let you live.”

  A manic laugh bubbles up from my chest. It spills out of my cracked, bloody lips in a desperate animal noise of hysteria. There’s no way in hell I’ll tell him where my people are hiding. They would all die, and he would kill me anyway.

  Titus drops my head, and I let it bounce on my neck, too weak to care. “Let’s start again.”

  Hollowness sucked at my insides. Curling over, I clutched my stomach against the pain of the vision. As sudden as flicking on a light switch, magic surrounded me. I could feel everything pulsing with energy—the trees lining the deserted highway, the officer sitting patiently in her cruiser, and the beasts in front of us. Even the air danced with brilliant threads of power. The magic coming from me felt vibrant and full of life, revealing the pattern of every living thing.

  Silas rushed forward and swung his sword at the beast closest to us, drawing my dazed attention. The demon animals attacked with a chorus of howls that made my insides shudder, pulling me back to reality, and I clamped my hands over my ears.

  Silas slammed his elbow into the animal’s head and knocked it into its neighbor, pushing them both out of the way before they could lunge. His sword stabbed between the muscular sheets of its chest, coating the blade in a gush of red blood.

  “Back!” Silas yelled at me.

  I stumbled a few steps backward, gripping Ripper in my hand.

  A third beast leapt from fifteen feet away, its massive body jumping at least five feet in the air as it dove straight toward me. Silas ran forward, dropped to one knee, and sliced into its soft underbelly from neck to navel. The monster shrieked and skidded along the asphalt, stopping at my feet in a bloody, gutted heap.

  Silas held the space between us with movements almost too quick to follow, weaving through the beasts with steel. Magic flared around him, made from thousands of threads of light. The energy rose high into the air and spread out to each side of him. Magic flowed with his sword, driving his opponents back as both a shield and a weapon. A fierce, feral smile lit up Silas’s face while he moved through the animals, cutting and slashing. Another dropped, headless, and the others backed off momentarily. Silas had downed or severely injured three of them, and their bright-red blood stained his blade and clothes.

  The remaining four regrouped and circled, testing for an opening in Silas’s defensive perimeter.

  Just beyond the demons, I locked eyes on Titus, who watched the fight with teeth bared. He stood back, letting his hounds attack, waiting for his opening. Hatred burned through me, fueled by Marcel’s memories of torture. I knew exactly what I needed to do to make the visions stop. I would avenge Marcel’s murder and kill Titus. Flipping Ripper in my hand, I shifted around Silas and the magic he wielded and stalked forward.

  The beasts twisted to intercept me. Silas moved with them, blocking their advance. I tried again, and everyone did the same dance, stopping me from getting to Titus.

  “Stay back!” Silas yelled at me.

  I growled in frustration. There was no path around Silas or the animals.

  On the other side of the road, a dark red-black fog of power grew around Titus. It built in complex layers, feeding from Titus and the others with him. I stared, mesmerized by the layers and patterns starting to form within the magic.

  Marcel’s memories threatened to overwhelm me again, but I pushed them down. I couldn’t afford to lose myself now. I had to get to Titus, but a wall of teeth and claws separated us.

  The spell grew, and the weight of the magic called to me. Before I made a conscious decision to do anything, I reached out with my mind and pulled on the threads of Titus’s conjuring. The energy bowed between us. I took a deep breath and drew the magic inward. Like a rubber band stretched from both ends, it broke away from him and snapped to me.

  Titus stumbled. His head whipped in my direction as the magic crashed into me, and the
fog disappeared. A surge of raw power hit me. I staggered backward under the surprising wave.

  A sharp pain jabbed me in the gut. I groaned and hunched over my stomach. Something was wrong with the magic from the spell. It twisted like knives, ripping up my insides, and I screamed in absolute agony. Around me, Silas fought, and the beasts howled. But the terrible fire ripped through my body, blocking out everything except the pain.

  Titus stalked forward through the mass of beasts. They moved aside for him, pushing Silas farther away.

  The magic hurt so bad. Too weak to move and too sick to use the knife still clutched in my hand, I could barely lift my own head when Titus snarled at me like an animal. He clutched his sword and pushed his way past the beasts, moving toward me. He meant to kill me.

  I had one chance. I had to take all the magic from Titus, and I hoped it would injure him enough to stop him. I knew it was going to hurt, but I threw my hands out and called the magic.

  The beasts between Titus and me died first. They convulsed like dying fish, flopping on the ground in howling agony. I gasped as their magic flooded me. The rush of pure energy burned every pore and cell in my body. The animals’ high-pitched screams matched the pain in my skull as I closed my eyes and called all the magic into me.

  Less than a dozen feet away, Titus snarled and raised his sword, ready to strike.

  Marcel’s memories seemed to guide me. I focused on Titus’s dark aura—like a small, bloody sunset—and pulled with everything I could.

  He stumbled and grabbed his head, then his hands fisted in his blond hair. His body jerked, and he screamed as he struggled to reach me, moving one disjointed limb at a time. The power ripped from him, and his flare faded to a pale crimson, just shy of pink.

  The magic slammed into me. I doubled over and fell to the ground.

  Unbelievably, Titus forced himself forward with his sword clutched in his hand. He bared his teeth at me.

  If he reached me, Ripper wasn’t going to cut it against his long sword. I focused everything I had on Titus, and the air shifted with the force of my pull.