Defensive Magic: A Paranormal Urban Fantasy Tale (Lost Library Book 3) (29 page)

~*~

Every movement embedded the croc’s teeth further into John’s hide. John let his body go limp. He wasn’t going to help the fucker tear him apart. With the heavy reptilian weight pinning him to the ground, too late he remembered the croc death roll. Shit. No water, but the croc could still pin him. John’s back claws scrabbled on the croc’s underbelly. Nothing. His claws slid off the tough hide. Blood—his blood—ran, matting the fur on his chest. His eyes rolled to the side.
Help.
He needed help desperately.

Adrenaline rushed, roaring in his ears. A dead wolf—not Ben, not Logan. Ben, limping. Logan, fighting another wolf. He tried to scream but only a warbling, wet sound emerged. It was enough—Ben heard his plea. The jaws around John’s neck fell away. He changed—wolf to man to wolf—in seconds. Blood loss, two rapid changes—and the world spun around him. Once more, he could change. That was all. The thought pounded in his skull.

Four paws finally firmly underneath him, his head dipped in shock at what he found. Ben clung with frantic persistence…to the croc’s underarm.
What the fuck?
He shook his head and barreled in. If there was flesh to grab, that’s where he’d be. Darting from thrashing tail and snapping jaws four times, the fifth gave him a chunk of flesh but no grip. He spat tissue and blood as he retreated.

Ben had lost his grip, body thrown by the croc’s thrashing. He could barely stand, taking several seconds to struggle to his feet. Ben’s gore-coated muzzle dipped in pain and exhaustion. John let loose a low growl, lifting his lip at Ben. The message was clear: walk away. No rapid shift could aid Ben—another change and he was done. Before Ben could retreat, the croc turned back into a man. The croc shifter never hesitated, he simply ran.

John snorted impatiently. A chase wasn’t possible. He’d rely on the flames to keep their stray close. Where the hell was Lizzie? Shit—Logan. He’d held his own, but was flagging against the last wolf. Paws flying over the ground as he closed in on Logan and the remaining wolf, John’s heart thrummed in fear for Lizzie. Where was she? Where was
Worth
?

Against two wolves, Worth’s last bodyguard had no chance. In moments, the fight was over. Just in time for John to hear a high-pitched yip from Ben. He turned to the sound and saw Ben limping three-legged toward the distant figures of Worth and Lizzie. Then they were gone, fading from sight as he watched. One second, two seconds, three—and they were back.
Dammit
. Worth was teleporting Lizzie with him toward the fire wall. He broke into a sprint.

~*~

The cool of nothingness, followed by the heat of the flames. Lizzie had it now. Three seconds of cool followed by two seconds of heat. Because Worth’s fade talent wasn’t quite like Lizzie’s. He could travel only a fraction of the distance Lizzie could achieve in one fade.

Timing—she could do this. Cool kissed her burning cheeks and she counted: one, two, three. Then she faded. A sticky vacuum sucked at her magic, at her. But she knew that sensation. With one thought she snapped the tether that Worth tried to anchor to her.

Lizzie emerged fifteen feet from Worth. Immediately, she cast an enclosed air bubble, just like she’d done with Vicky. She didn’t let herself think of the differences—that this wasn’t a bluff, or even a threat. No—she was working on that bubble with absolutely no thoughts of bluffing. But she couldn’t get it to close. Worth found a flaw in her ward and exploited it, because as hard as she tried to close the bubble, she couldn’t. Lizzie was tugging and pushing at the bubble, trying to make it smaller, to collapse it around him, when it evaporated.
Shit, shit, shit.
What else could she do? Freaking defensive magic. She had nothing. She had no fight left, so she ran.

Looking over her shoulder, she saw Ben at a safe distance. She closed her eyes and focused on one thing—Ben. Again the sense of nothingness and drifting, then she was back. Ben stumbled to a halt directly in front of her, falling back to land awkwardly on his haunches. She barely knew him, yet she wanted to hug his red, furry self, she was so relieved. Now where the heck was John?

Kneeling, she quickly ran her hand over Ben’s uselessly dangling front right leg, simultaneously scanning for John. Broken, she was sure. And then she saw John, stretched out in a flat run. He’d be on them in seconds.

Leaning close to Ben, she whispered, “You need to change.”

Ben huffed out a breath in what sounded suspiciously like a sigh. Then he punched her in the shoulder with his muzzle.

“Ow. What?”

In response, Ben tipped his muzzle—covered in Lizzie didn’t even want to know what—in the direction she’d come from. Distracted by John’s arrival, it took her a moment to heed Ben’s warning. When she did, she couldn’t help but see the wavering of the fire wall. Half the height it had been a minute earlier.

“Oh, shit.”

John had stopped next to her, dropping into a sit with his tongue hanging out of the side of his mouth and covered in blood she hoped wasn’t his. He’d looked better. At her exclamation, he jumped up into a stand.

She held out a hand. “Just a second.”

And she cast a sensing ward. The tacky, clinging touch of Vampyr magic grabbed her. She scanned John frantically—then Ben and Logan, further in the distance. It wasn’t touching them. No—just Gwen, she realized as she thought of the diminishing flames. Gwen, who was all alone on the other side of the fire.

Lizzie hunted for the tether she knew had to be there. She could cut it. She’d done it before. But she couldn’t find it. Frantically, she cast wider, and then she felt it, saw it—slinking along the ground. And with one violent thought, she snapped the tether. Just before it snapped, she felt witch magic at her fingertips. The elemental heat, the disorderly passion was seductive. She could feel its fingers wrapping around her, making her warm. She felt light-headed. Drunk. A sharp bark pierced the haze of well-being that surrounded her.

She flinched when she realized she was clinging to the tether of fire magic. Immediately, she released it. The bright flames leapt, reassuring her that Gwen was still there, somewhere behind the wall of fire, doing magic.

Lizzie looked for Worth and found him. She walked with purpose. Not nearly as injured as the last time she’d cut the parasitic tether he used to feed off others’ magic—no blood trickled from his ears, nose, or mouth—but he was dazed. She couldn’t pass up this opportunity. The bubble had failed. She could take from him what he so readily stole from others—but, no. Holding Gwen’s magic, part of her very being, in her hands…what that had done to her…. Lizzie shuddered. No, she couldn’t steal Worth’s magic.

Lizzie steeled herself. She was almost upon him. Quickly, before she lost her nerve, she pulled together a shield, wrapped it around Worth, and she pushed until she met the resistance of his body. And only then did he realize what she was doing. She could see it on his face: fear and anger.

“I’m done. I’m tired. Your harassment, your plots, the pain you’ve cause everyone around me. I’m just done. Why couldn’t you leave us alone?” She was talking to herself more than to Worth, ranting really. Trying to gather her courage for the last push. Venting the anger and fear and exhaustion the battle had wrought.

Then she looked at his face—and she saw confusion.

Her pulse thundered in her ears. How could he not understand? Before that final push—that crushing push—she heard a menacing growl. Fear rippled down her spine. But when she looked up, there was only John. He approached Worth, covering the few feet in a ground-eating trot. Seconds before he reached Worth, Lizzie dropped the shield and turned away.

She didn’t see what happened next. She walked to their truck, the headlights clearly visible beyond the last few dying embers of the fire. Gwen stood next to Max and the SUV, waiting. Lizzie walked purposefully towards them, not once looking back.

John had saved her from taking that final step, and she was glad. She didn’t need to see Worth die. It was enough to know that he was gone.

Chapter 35

A
s Lizzie walked to the truck, Ben caught up, still in wolf form, still favoring his front right leg. Logan soon appeared on her other side, also still in wolf form. Max was already at the truck—or maybe he’d never left it—and was digging in the back for clothes. As first Logan, then Ben changed, Max threw pants at them.

“Cover up that junk, boys. We have a lady present,” Max said.

Lizzie realized he was talking about Gwen when Kenna’s mom emerged from the interior of the SUV nibbling on a protein bar. “No rush, gentlemen. I have so little entertainment in my life these days.”

Lizzie had become more accustomed to the odd moments of nudity that accompanied being around the Pack. But Gwen’s comment reminded Lizzie that not everyone was. Even as drained as she was by the events of the day, Lizzie still blushed. She really didn’t want to think of Kenna’s mom and naked Lycan at the same time.

“Are you all right?” Lizzie asked, peering at Gwen closely.

“If you’re referring to the magic drain that ass attempted, then yes.” She finished her protein bar. “But doing this much magic makes me ravenous. I don’t suppose there’s any chance of a snack before we hop that plane back to Austin? I’ve only got one more bar, and I think I’ve got more work to do here.”

As Gwen spoke, John joined them. Gwen glanced up at the sky until he pulled a pair of jeans on. Probably for Lizzie’s sake, because John certainly didn’t care.

“If you’re not averse to some cleanup, we’d be thankful.” John waited for her nod before he turned to the Navigator and retrieved a shirt.

“Not a problem, Alpha. I’d appreciate it, however, if you gentlemen could take care of the messy part. Moving bodies might stain my shoes. Then I’ll make some ash.”

Ben, ever practical, asked, “Anywhere in particular?”

“Next to their Escalade, if you want that included. But fair warning, if I have to take care of a large vehicle I’ll need some food.”

Face tight and pinched, John said, “I have just the place for a light snack.”

With that cryptic comment, he left to help the other men shift the corpses into a tidy pile for burning.

True to her word, Gwen reduced even the SUV to ash. There was no smoke and the heat seemed insignificant given the task that was accomplished. When Lizzie asked her about it, she said, “It’s magic, Lizzie. Science twists and turns when magic is applied.”

Lizzie gave her a skeptical look.

Gwen sighed. “When I burn something like metal, I manipulate the flames and the air around the flames. I turn the heat in on itself. It’s a control mechanism that fire witches learn early in their studies.”

Everyone loaded into the Navigator after watching the fire die down to nothing. John, the driver and last to enter, said, “There are no safety concerns? No residual heat or threat of further fire?”

Coolly, Gwen said, “No. And I recommend against asking a fire witch anything similar in future.”

“Apologies—no offense was intended.”

Gwen just sniffed. Then she asked, “Are we headed for a snack now?”

“We are,” John replied. “I want to stop by a coffee shop and pick up a few things.”

Firmly, Lizzie said, “She won’t be there.” She chewed on the inside of her lip. She continued with less conviction, “This was all her. I think. I’m almost certain.”

John blew out a grating breath. “Yeah.”

Logan glanced between Lizzie and John a few times. “And? What do you know that we don’t?”

John squeezed the steering wheel.

Speaking to John, Lizzie quietly said, “It’s fine. Really.” More loudly, addressing everyone in the truck, she explained. “I was upset and I accused Worth of stalking me. Shouted at him. Why wouldn’t he leave me alone—that kind of thing.”

Max tilted his head sympathetically. “Seems reasonable to me. I’d have said a lot worse.”

“Yeah. Except he had no clue what I was talking about.” Lizzie put her hand on the dash as the SUV came to a quick stop at a light. Glancing at John, she could see tight lines bracketing his mouth. Wild guess, he was pissed. “We’ve been played—I think. Margot wanted him gone and…I’m starting to wonder if it was ever Worth behind the Pack’s harassment.” Frowning, she shook her head. “I mean, either way, Worth
has
been an ongoing problem. For us and for IPPC.”

Even to her own ears, it sounded like she was trying to convince herself. That what they’d done had been right. That they hadn’t made some horrible mistake. That Worth deserved what he’d gotten. She stared hard at the road, watching the white line.

“Right,” Max agreed. “The bastard had it coming about five times over—and that’s based on what we know. There’s a world of criminal activity that he’s masterminded or had some hand in that we don’t even know about.”

Lizzie blinked, and then stared harder at the road. Who was she—or John or Logan or Max—who were they to decide whether a man should live or die? That’s not how the world was supposed to work.

“Shit,” John exclaimed.

Lizzie pulled her eyes away from the road, her thoughts away from questions that were too big for her tired brain to sort.

“What the hell happened to the crocodile?” John threw the question over his shoulder.

Logan grunted. “The crocodile got away. Shifted again and walked through the damn fire. That croc hide must be tough. And he has some serious magic—he shifted as many times as you did, John.”

“Yeah,” John replied. “Someone else to have on our radar. With that much juice, it wouldn’t surprise me if he’s a player in Worth’s network.” Deep frown lines grooved his forehead. “I’ve never heard of a crocodile shifter.”

Popping the last bite of her last protein bar into her mouth, Gwen waggled her fingers in the air. After chewing and swallowing, she said, “The Philippines. There’s a native crocodile there that crocodile shifters mimic. The native species is quite small, but naturally the shifter variety assumes the size of the person.” She smiled. “No need to explain conservation of mass and such to you, I’m sure.”

Lizzie shook her head. “How do you know this stuff?”

Gwen shrugged and replied sheepishly, “I’m not as anti-social as Lycan?”