Warrior Enchanted: The Sons of the Zodiac (21 page)

Emerson’s grip tightened on his arm at Quinn’s words, but other than that, she said nothing.

“On my mark, we move into the dining room and line up. He should be far enough down the east hallway to let us get into position. Keep the wall at your back.” Quinn kept his gaze focused on the device. “And…now!”

Once they were in position in the dining room, Drake shifted Emerson behind him. “I don’t want you trapped, but I don’t want you easily exposed either. If you need to, crawl back to the kitchen and hide in the basement, locking the door from the inside.”

“I’m not leaving you.”

Gods, but she could give Quinn a run for his money when it came to stubborn and pigheaded. Forcing the calm he really didn’t feel, Drake pushed every ounce of reason into his voice he could gather up. “I get that, but we don’t know what sort of power he’s got, Emerson. The snake is a huge variable and possibly a big advantage. I need to know you’ll do the right thing. I need to know you’ll be safe.”

“And damn it, Drake, I need to know you’ll be safe. My magic can heal.”

He forced bravado into his tone, desperate to get her to leave. “I heal pretty fine all by myself.”

That small frame stood still—immovable—as she stared up at him. “You don’t know if you’d have healed from the poison of the snakebite.” He opened his mouth to protest, but she placed a finger on his lips. “But with my magic, you
did
heal.”

He pressed a kiss to her finger. “
Please
, Emerson. Please go.”

Drake saw the hesitation—saw the unwillingness to acquiesce—before something changed. An awareness, really, that lit up her eyes with an understanding he’d never seen before. She reached up on her toes and pressed her lips to his cheek, just below his ear. With a whisper, she added, “I’ll do it for you, if it comes to that. But trust me that I can make the right judgment if I’m called to.”

It was enough. It had to be.

Then there were no more promises or what ifs or maybes as Magnus Carano came down the hallway and into the dining room on a heavy war cry.

Emerson felt the wall pressed to her back as a wall of Warriors stood in a battle phalanx to her front. Aside from their sheer numbers, the set of their bodies and easy familiarity with one another was clearly to their advantage. Ignoring the fact there was a China cabinet on the far side of the room and a table long enough to seat twenty, she could easily envision them on a battlefield.

Her brother materialized in the doorway, and she fought the words forming on her lips. No matter how badly she wanted to drag him aside and demand answers, she needed to let this play out.

“I’m not here for a fight.” Magnus’s voice quavered slightly and she was reminded of the games they’d played as children. He hated to lose, no matter the game. From Red Rover to Monopoly, that same quaver would alight in his voice the moment he knew he was at a disadvantage. “I want what you stole from me.”

Although this was the Warriors’ show, she simply couldn’t keep quiet. Couldn’t lose the opportunity to get some answers. “Why do you want the book, Magnus?”

His dark eyes widened in surprise as he realized she stood behind the line of Warriors. “Em?”

“It’s me. And I want to know why you want the book. It looks like a diary of some sort, and since it’s written in Greek, it’s most certainly not yours.”

“It belongs to me.”

“Are you sure about that?” Drake interrupted.

“It’s mine.” That quaver was back. It matched the sudden agitation in his body as he shifted from foot to foot.

“Please answer the question, Magnus. Why do you want it?”

Whatever fear drove him erupted as he screamed, “Give me the goddamn book!”

Although she had a clear view of her brother, Drake blocked her, his shoulders set in a stiff line as he faced Magnus. She reached out a hand and settled it against his lower back, the simple touch and the warmth of his body going a long way toward reassuring her.

When had her brother’s life gone so wrong? How had they missed the signs and why couldn’t they have done something before it was too late? Before it had gotten to…
this
.

“I think you need to leave, Magnus.” Even as she said the words, she knew it wouldn’t be that simple.

“Give me what I’ve asked for and I’ll go. I’ll walk out that door and you’ll never see my miserable face again. I’ll make it right with Eris and make her leave you alone. Leave you all alone.”

The line shifted slightly, the battle-ready tension palpable in the men and women who stood between her and her brother. Despite the tense moments, no one interfered, understanding that she needed to ask the questions.

“Make what right with Eris?”

“Em. You wouldn’t understand.”

And there it was. The same excuse he’d used their entire lives, varied slightly depending on the occasion.

You wouldn’t understand, Em.

You don’t know what I’m dealing with, Em.

Get off my back, Em.

“Try me.” When he didn’t say anything more, she shifted tactics. “What did you mean you’d make things right with Eris?”

Magnus shot a derisive glare at the line of Warriors. “You all think you’re so tough. So immune. She’s worth a hundred of you. And more powerful, too.”

“So what makes you think you have the power to call her off?”

“She’ll listen to me on this.”

Somehow, she doubted it. But whatever lies Eris had woven around her brother had pretty much eliminated his already questionable judgment.

“Magnus, I can help you. We can help you. These are good people, and we can find a way to make this right.”

Drake shifted, reaching for the hand she still had on his back. In that moment, Emerson realized just how true the words she spoke really were.

“And you think I’m delusional. They’re a group of vigilantes who go around keeping their own brand of law and order. Hell, this one”—Magnus pointed to
Rogan—“is fucking Eris. You think that makes him a hero? You think that makes all of them heroes?”

“It certainly doesn’t make your behavior okay.”

“It doesn’t make it wrong, either.” With that, he leaped, the move far more decisive than his nervous behavior would have indicated.

Magnus hit the end of the line. Kane bore the brunt of the attack, with Ilsa caught in the fray as all three fell to the ground. Emerson watched as a symphony of movement rose up and out of the fray of bodies before Magnus moved back again, balancing on the balls of his feet.

Kane lay in the corner of the room, a large cut on his head pouring with blood as Ilsa hovered over him. Quinn was still on his feet, but he’d taken a few hits as well, as evidenced by the split lip and ripening bruise on his eye.

“You can’t take down all these people, Magnus.”

“Not by myself. It’s a good thing I brought help.” The snake she’d been so afraid of seeing again slithered from Magnus’s shoulders and fell to the floor next to him. Coiled, it lifted its head and hissed at all of them.

“Ava. Ilsa. Montana. Emerson. In the kitchen,” Brody ordered them. “We need more room.”

The snake had already anticipated the move and slithered toward the swinging door, blocking any movement. In that moment, it became evident Magnus had a sizable advantage. The reach of the snake would ensure he could manage two ends of the line, and the bunched nature of how they stood there in formation would keep the Warriors’ tattoos from full range of motion or freedom.

They were trapped.

Emerson leaned forward and whispered in Drake’s ear, “Do you have the diary?”

“Quinn’s got it locked in a safe upstairs.”

“Good.”

“What are you going to do?”

“It seems I’m the only one with an advantage at the moment. Jump in as soon as you have an opening.”

Stepping around Drake, she lifted her hand and felt the power well up from her stomach, through her chest cavity and down her arms. Diligently avoiding thinking about the fact that the person who was going to receive the blast was her brother, she let go with a stream of fire directed at the snake.

The heat welled from her fingertips in a rush, the fire a surprisingly potent weapon that grew and expanded in her palm. Emerson tried to make sense of it, even as she kept her focus on the snake.

What was this?

She’d used her gifts before, but never with such precision or strength. Not only was the fire more potent—more focused—it seemed to grow the more she used it, like a building inferno.

She glanced down and saw that her other hand was still linked to Drake.

Was it possible?

Breaking the hold of their fingers, she recognized the loss of power immediately. Felt the change in every cell of her body. The fire was lighter somehow, and it went wild, as if a cross-stream of air lit under it. The steady stream that had held the snake in place wavered, giving the animal a break so it could slither in closer to the Warriors.

Unwilling to waste time trying to figure it out, she reached for Drake again, the connection garnering immediate results. The flame returned, more focused and so hot it edged in blue as the fire coated the snake’s body in a steady arc.

Magnus screamed in pain, stumbling away from where he engaged in a fight with Quinn, answering the question of how closely connected he was to the snake.

“Drake. Don’t let go of me.”

“I have to get in there.”

He started to move forward, but she held on to him. “The fire’s not as focused when I’m not touching you.”

“Quinn, Rogan,” Drake ordered, “you take the lead.”

The two Warriors ran forward and Emerson kept the stream of fire on the snake as they moved in next to Magnus. The animal had completely stopped moving and lay coiled, its skin charred black. When they had her brother firmly in hand, she pulled back on her magic.

“What the hell was that, Em? How’d you do that?”

“I’m done, Magnus. Start explaining, or I’m going to make sure these lovely people lock you up like a fucking criminal.”

“No, seriously. I’ve never seen you do anything like that. What did you do? Where’d you get magic like that?”

She shrugged, suddenly self-conscious to have it called out. “It’s inside of me.”

“It’s unheard of. Grandma can’t do that. Mom couldn’t do it, either. How’d you get power like that?”

“It’s not power, Magnus. It’s magic. It’s a gift and it needs to be used as such.”

“It’s remarkable.”

The snake shifted slightly, the charred scales fading into a new, bright pink as Magnus’s immortality healed it. They didn’t have much time.

“Can Drake and I have a few minutes with my brother? I can bind him if you’d prefer.” She winced at the thought, but knew it was the only way to gain their agreement.

Rogan and Quinn hesitated, but it was Drake who supported her. “Please let her have a few minutes.”

“Let’s go check on Kane.” Quinn and Rogan moved through the swinging door to the kitchen, the implied threat of how close they were not lost on anyone.

Shifting her attention back to her healing brother, Emerson created a circle of fire around him, careful to keep the flames away from him as she did so. “Magnus, please let me help you. Whatever you’ve gotten yourself into, we can get you out of.”

Her brother laughed. “Just like that night after the park. You wanted answers that night, too.”

Despite the warmth emanating from her body, icy-cold dread coursed through her bloodstream. “What do you mean?”

“Come on. You knew it was me. You had to know.”

The tears she’d refused to shed all those years ago welled up now, his acknowledgment as painful as if no time had passed at all. “He was an innocent man, Magnus.”

“In the wrong place at the wrong time. I didn’t do it on purpose.”

“But you did it. You killed him.”

“I’ve had a long time to live with it, and yes.” His dark gaze never wavered. “Yes, I did.”

The usual urge to rant and rail at him never manifested. Instead, all she felt was an unbearable sadness.

Her brother was lost. Maybe he had been for a very long time, but the truth staring back at her was the final straw.

The snake moved again and she took a few steps back, the flames going higher with her anxiety. “Could you at least put that…
thing
…away.”

Magnus lifted an eyebrow. “Unlike your ring of fire, here, I’m not going to use it on you.”

“Like you weren’t going to use it on her before?” Drake shot back, his anger from earlier clearly not gone. “You could have killed her with your lack of control.”

“It’s weakened.”

“It lives in your aura,” Drake pushed at him. “It’s not something separate.”

“Look. I just want the diary back. Give it to me and I’ll go away. If you believe nothing else, believe that.”

“Why’d you take it from her? You had to know Eris would want it back.”

“Insurance. And a deep desire to know exactly what I was.”

Drake’s voice dripped with disdain. “It must have been a big surprise to realize it was in Greek.”

“Look, I just took it. I didn’t have time to flip through it first.”

“Why not just ask her what she did?”

“I needed to know everything.”

“So you took a deal with a goddess and didn’t know the terms? Bad move, Magnus.”

Magnus shot Drake a dark look but didn’t back
down from his point. “She made promises. You’ve been through the experience. Surely you can understand I’d like to know what I’m up against.”

“Actually, I can’t. But then again, I didn’t sell my soul, which is the effective equivalent of what you did with Eris.”

“Yeah. And I’m pretty sure there’s no getting it back.” With that, Magnus evaporated before their eyes.

D
rake took in the chaos of the kitchen as he and Emerson cleared the swinging door. Ilsa held her hand over an ice pack against Kane’s head while Montana doctored a cut on Quinn’s lip. All in all, they’d escaped relatively unscathed, but the nervous tension of battle hadn’t yet evaporated.

“He’s gone?” Quinn mumbled around the towel against his mouth.

“The snake regenerated, Magnus made excuses and then he disappeared.” Drake tucked Emerson under his arm, the need to hold her a palpable thing inside of him. “What I want to know is how the hell he got in here in the first place.”