My Boyfriend Merlin (4 page)

“Alexa,” Matt held a packet in his hand and ran to her. “Give me the sword.”

The dragon opened its mouth and a blast of fire scorched the leaves just beneath my feet. I tried to back away, but in a step, it had reached me. The dragon opened its mouth.

“No!” Alexa ran in front of the dragon with the sword.

The dragon swiped her away with little thought. The sword went flying... and landed right at Matt’s feet. Matt grabbed the sword. He sprinkled something on the blade and yelled, “
Sarati
!”

The word scraped my ears and spun around the glade, bouncing off the trees.

The shadow-dragon swooped down at him.

Matt threw the sword. It landed in the middle of the shadow’s chest. The beast let out an outraged bellow. The sword slid down the beast’s black belly, cutting cleanly through half the beast’s body. By the time the sword had reached the ground, the shadow had evaporated.

Matt rushed to where I lay on the ground. He swung me up in his arms.

 “Why didn’t you just do that in the first place?” I demanded.

“I needed the dissolving powder or it would just get angry instead of dead.”

Pain blurred my vision. “Alexa. Grey. Make sure they’re okay.”

“First, you.” Matt laid me on my side.

My head lolled against his chest. A drizzle of rain slapped my face.

“Stay with me, Ryan.”

I tried to protest. A warbled sound came out of my mouth. Lethargy made my body weak.

“Wake up, Ryan.” Matt opened my shirt roughly. "Damn beast. This is going to take all my strength."

A sharp pain like creeping vines spread out from the wound on my side. With small clawing tentacles, it shook my body. I writhed on the ground.

I'm pretty sure I drooled.

Just as I thought I could take no more, a hand yanked away the vines. They shrunk back. Pain receded.

And it was over.

Matt flipped me onto my back. I stared at him dully. He looked normal… not even winded… except for the slight sheen of blue fire that seemed to dance in an outline around him.

I blinked. The blue fire disappeared, leaving me to wonder if I’d imagined it.

His hand slid down my bare ribs. “That was the easiest healing I’ve ever done.”

I sat up shakily. “Alexa. Grey.”

Matt ran to the upside-down Corvette and forced open the driver’s side door.

“He’s fine.” Matt pulled a shaken Grey out of the car.

“R-ryan?” Grey said groggily. “Alexa?”

I slowly got up and glanced around the eerily quiet clearing. All around us trees with leaves of orange and red swayed in silent rhythm. But I saw no sign of Alexa. My body shook with the effort of staying up. Matt came back and caught me before I dropped back to the ground.

“Matt? Where is she?” I said hoarsely.

Setting me on a waist-high boulder, Matt closed his eyes. Leaves around us shifted. A huge stack of them moved to reveal a limp Alexa on the ground.

My heart stilled. I pushed myself up. Grey and Matt were already sprinting to her. Grey reached her first and picked her up. Her head flopped at an odd angle. Grey’s cry tore through the clearing, clawing at my ears.

I fought to breathe. “M-Matt?”

Across the clearing, he looked at me with sad eyes.

I hobbled over to Alexa. “Help her.  Like you did me.”

Matt closed her eyes. “It doesn’t work like that. I can’t help her. She’s too far gone.”

I sank to my knees. The ground, wet and soft, gave way to my weight. My knees sank into mud. Wet drops streamed down my face. My body hurt, feeling all at once every hit and every cut.

In the sky, fast-moving clouds crashed and collided with each other. Droplets of rain and wind-ravaged leaves fell here and there in jagged bits with no particular pattern.

I fought to stay upright.

How could this happen again? I couldn’t handle it. Not again

Matt knelt down beside me. He put a hand on my back. Warmth burned into my numb skin. It burned, molten fire into solid ice.

Pulling the last vestige of my strength, I jerked away from him.

“What are you?” I demanded.

CHAPTER 3
BETRAYED

Amber brown eyes stared into my soul. “Are you sure you want to know?”

“Alexa—” I swallowed. Hard. “I need to know.”

Matt said a soft word. A breeze whirled around us. He waved his hand at the trees that canopied us from the bleak sky. The canopy of the trees rustled as it opened to show the sky. The clouds parted just enough to let in a few rays of sunlight. Light streamed down and illuminated the Old North Bridge. The place of the first battle of the American Revolution—the shot that was heard around the world.

Matt took my cold hands and pressed them in his. “I’m a wizard, Ryan.”

***

Matt put the helmet back on me and slung me up on the Ducati. I don’t know how he held me in place since I couldn’t seem to focus on anything, but within minutes we were bursting through the thicket of trees beyond the clearing. Clouds raced us as we sped past the quiet graves at Sleepy Hollow Cemetery. The cemetery reminded of the aftermath of a great battle like the one I felt I’d just fought. The Ducati sped down the narrow road, balanced so delicately that any moment it could fall off the sharp edges of the road.

The red Corvette followed us as if it had a mind of its own. Matt had put a zombie-like Grey inside it. Upon reaching town, we plunged down a gravel lane through another barrier of thick brush. There, nestled against a backdrop of long-limbed trees, under a single ray of sun in an otherwise grey sky, stood Ragnar manor.

The first time I had seen the gothic monstrosity, nothing had seemed more foreign from the two-bedroom townhouse under the scorching Texas sun that I had grown up in. Matt drove the Ducati down the lane, pulled the bike half-around a circular driveway, and stopped in between a gurgling stone fountain and the front door.

I scrambled off the bike. My knees folded. My helmet would have met concrete but Matt caught me about the waist. He tugged the helmet off with one hand.

“You’re still weak,” he said. “Try not to move too much. I’ve told your body to heal but it’s not instantaneous. The Ragnars enchanted the manor long ago. We should be safe here… for now. ”

The Corvette rumbled up behind us.  Matt had done something to it to make it follow us to the manor like a faithful puppy.

The front door of the manor opened wide as Sylvia, Grey and Alexa's mom, stepped outside. My chest squeezed with anxiety—as usual Sylvia looked immaculate. I’d known her forever. She had been my mother's best friend since they were children. They could have passed for twins.

Unlike anything my gym-teacher mother would have worn, Sylvia had on an expensive navy business suit with padded shoulders. Yet she pulled it off. The president of Ragnar Bank and Commodities projected smooth control. She seemed ready for anything.

Sylvia's assistant, Marla, a thirty-something with one long streak of white in her otherwise jet black hair, followed close behind her. She spoke accented English into her cell. “…who cares about an earth-shake, we’re still here,
n’est pas
? The markets will quiet.”

Sylvia marched toward us. “Ryan, are you all right?”

Her words were uttered calmly but there was steel underneath. Tears sprung into my eyes. I pushed away from Matt. Sylvia came closer… and noticed the scratches on the Corvette. The broken side faced away from us.

“What?” she muttered.

The Corvette’s engine cut. It sat silent in the courtyard—beaten and broken. Sylvia’s heels clicked in sharp staccato as she strode straight to it and pulled open the driver’s side handle.

Grey stumbled out of the driver’s side with a wild look. “It wouldn’t open!”

Sylvia caught him by the shoulders. “Grey! Are you okay?”

Grey shook his head. “Alexa.”

“Where is your sister?” Sylvia said.

Matt stepped forward. “There was an attack, Mrs. Ragnar. I’m sorry.”

Sylvia paled. She ran to the Corvette’s passenger side. I heard her yank it open, but I couldn’t look. She let out a horrible mewling cry.

The wounded sound pierced through me like a knife in the gut. I swayed in place.

Matt put an arm around my shoulders in support.

I shook him away. “Just don’t, Matt.”

“What happened?” Sylvia demanded.

Matt went to the Corvette. He put his hand on the passenger door to shut it again. Sylvia stopped him.

“Who are you?” she barked at him.

Although not much taller, Matt seemed to tower over Sylvia. "My name is Matt Emrys. I have been sent from the Council.”

“Council.” Beside me, Marla gasped.

“What council?” I asked.

“The Council governs all of wizard-kind,” Matt said.

Marla crossed to Sylvia. Digging out a spare blanket, she smoothed it over Alexa. Sylvia bit into her own fisted hands. For the fist time I’d known her, she didn’t seem in charge of the world. She looked lost, alone, and out of her depth.

“W-what happened to my daughter?” Sylvia asked.

Matt bowed his head. “We were attacked. By the time I got to her, it was too late. I am sorry.”

Grey’s head jerked up. “Ryan had blood all over her. That thing nearly shredded her, but you fixed her.”

“Yes,” Matt said. “She was only wounded. I could heal her.”

“Heal her, but not Alexa.” Grey blinked. “You’re full of shit, Emrys.”

“Grey,” I said faintly. “I’m so sorry.”

Grey gave me a bleak look. “She made me follow the bike. She wanted to protect you.”

My legs heavy under a crushing weight that seemed to have overtaken my entire body, I crossed the cobblestone driveway one stone block at a time. I put a hand on Grey’s arm. “She did protect me.”

He flinched.

I dropped my arm.

Grey walked to Sylvia. She leaned back against him. I doubted either one could have stood on their own.

Sylvia’s eyes remained fixed on Matt. “Who attacked them?”

Matt returned a steady gaze. “Gargoyles.”

“Gargoyles?” Marla repeated.

“Have you lost your mind, Emrys?” Grey said.

“Enough, Grey.” In a tired voice, Sylvia said to Matt. “I am sorry. I have not kept him familiar with our family history.”

Matt nodded as if he was used to such deferential treatment—something I wasn’t used to giving. With effort I pushed away the lethargy overtaking my body.

I let out a pained laugh. “Gargoyles? That’s ridiculous. I suggest you trade in the biker jacket for a straight one.”

Matt looked back at me with utter seriousness. “Is it as ridiculous as a dragon?”

Deep in my gut something uncomfortable stirred. A small gust of wintry wind flew through the driveway. I glared at him. “Why would anyone attack us?”

“What do the Gargoyles want with us?” Marla asked.

“Not you.” Matt said. “Grey is the candidate—”

Grey’s head jerked up. “What?”

Sylvia hugged herself. “Grey has never shown any wizard traits. Alexa—” She stopped and swallowed. “Alexa had shown some telekinetic abilities. But not Grey.”

“Candidates need not have magic. King Arthur was not one.” Matt paused. “I have been watching Grey for a long time.”

“What do you mean
watching
?” I said.

Matt didn’t look at me. “If he wishes to live through the next few months, he must be protected.”

 “Mom.” Grey turned to Sylvia. “I want to know what is going on right now.”

“I will tell you everything.” Sylvia put a hand on her son.

 “Since the manor has some protection, I have asked the other candidates to rendezvous here. They will be here tonight,” said Matt.

“No one is coming inside my house,” Grey shouted.

“It’s not just your house,” Sylvia snapped.

Grey took a step back as if she’d slapped him. I was surprised too. I’d never so much as heard a cross word from Sylvia to Grey in the entire year I’d been living at the manor. Grey was her darling—the one who could do no wrong. Alexa and I had commiserated about it more than once. My chest tightened as I realized we never would again.

“Sylvia, what is going on?” I asked.

She looked at me as if she’d forgotten I was there. “I will tell you and Grey everything. Right now I have to make a-arrangements.” Her voice broke on the last word.

Marla put a hand on her shoulder. “But of course, I will do it.”

I said, “We have to call the police.”

Marla shook her head. “You can’t—”

“Everyone knows Grey and Alexa drove off together,” I said.

Matt stared at the Corvette. “I think I can help.”

Matt flicked his wrist. A giant gust of wind swirled around us like a tornado. It picked up the car and smashed it upside-down into the fountain. The passenger side had been completely crushed.

Alexa was still in the car.

We all gaped at the wreckage in stunned stupor.

Then, Sylvia let out a hiccupping cry. She crumpled into Grey’s arms.

As he held his sobbing mother in his arms, Grey shot Matt a furious look. “Bastard.”

***

It was almost evening by the time the police finished taking our statements. No one had questioned that it had been anything more than a tragic accident. The Corvette lost traction coming down the lane into the driveway.