Wicked Circle

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

The charm Beau had given me made a real difference.

When I’d held the lightning energy, I’d felt ready to explode. The volume of ley energy I’d briefly contained was threefold—ley energy scalds in the first instant and settles into a heady buzz, like an addict’s high. The ley and lunar energies had swirled within me, rather like oil and vinegar refusing to mix. Stormy and volatile. I’d tried coaxing the powers, folding them together like cake batter and foamy egg whites. Still they had resisted. So I’d gone bully. I’d used the Reese’s Cup-size charm like a blender, cramming that energy through the charm, whipping it into a frothy force, and then I freed the energy, refiltering it through myself.

A witch releasing energy was like any human body expending energy. In about twenty seconds, my body was convinced I’d just finished a hundred-kilometer marathon and celebrated by going a couple rounds with Rocky Balboa. Containing the power, filtering it, targeting it, and releasing it used nearly all of my own energy, and after my already stressful midday, I felt woozy and weak.

I collapsed to my knees in exhaustion. The dizziness made me pitch forward. The rough rooftop tore at my palms, ripping runnels that filled with warm blood.

I was so tired I didn’t care. I just wanted to sleep.

The beam dissipated to a chorus of wolf howls.

Beau’s son? I checked where the half-formed wolf had lain. A full-formed wolf lay there now, unconscious. I did it.

A pony-sized black wolf stood stiff-legged at the edge of the pack. Beyond that dark wolf that I knew to be Johnny, I saw wolves begin padding away from the group, spreading out.

I sat back on my heels, fingers curled to favor my wounded palms. Softly, I said, “Keep them together, Johnny. Lead them to the kennels.”

The black wolf’s yellow eyes remained steady, and he persistently sniffed the air.

Wolves loped around me, circling. There were so many of them. . . .

“Johnny.”

The black wolf lowered its muzzle. It shook itself.

“Johnny?”

He stepped in my direction.

I swallowed. Hard.

Slowly, I put my knuckles down and very, very cautiously pushed to get my feet under me. Very, very cautiously I stood. The black wolf kept easing forward. I stood my ground for a heartbeat or two, then I couldn’t suppress the need to retreat.

The black wolf paused, sniffing where I’d fallen. Its pink tongue licked where my skin had torn. Where I’d bled.

Oh shit.

Behind me, a wolf growled.

Before me, the black wolf continued licking the roof. I trusted the Domn Lup to rule his pack and protect me, but the growl to my rear came again, nearer. Still the black wolf did not react.

I dared a quick scan behind me. The other wolf was gathering itself, preparing to leap.

“Johnny!”

The black wolf’s nose came up, but his head stayed low, nostrils quivering and yellow gaze locked on me. Its posture was entirely animal-on-the-hunt. “What’s wrong with you?” I whispered.

He eased forward with deliberate, stalking steps.

Heart pounding, it took everything I had to not run for the door. “Domn Lup! Herd your pack down the stairwell. Do it now!”

Behind me the other wolf snarled. The black wolf viciously snapped its jaws at the other wolf, which then whimpered and retreated from me.

Thinking—hoping—that he was sending me down the stairs first, I shifted my retreat toward the door he’d propped open.

The black wolf made the same jaw-snapping growl at me, lunging and forcing me away from the safety of the room beyond that door.

As I quickly backpedaled, I tripped over the duffel with my spell supplies. As I fell, even as I thought to brace against the fall, I saw the black wolf leap.

Time slowed down. Instead of throwing my arms back to catch myself, I reached forward and buried my fingers in the fur on the sides of its head. With a feral snarl, the wolf’s hot breath blew over my cheeks. Those long fangs were just inches from me, and we hadn’t hit the roof yet.

I had only one choice: I called on the ley.

Stinging energy answered. It ripped into me as my back hit the rooftop, and I rammed it down my arms, ejecting it right into the black wolf. Unfocused and unpurposed, the energy was raw and shocking.

The wolf yelped in pain, jerked and leapt away from me; tufts of black hair stuck to my bloody palms. My head bounced on the rooftop, hair catching in the rough texture and yanking out.

The wolf landed a few yards away and twisted back, a wicked rumble rising from deep in its chest. My hands went to the rooftop, ready to launch me up again, but I felt the smooth broom handle. Gripping it, I rolled, straddling it as I said, “Awaken ye to life.” It boosted me into the air and shot forward as the black wolf closed in again.

Johnny.

What have you done?

The wind over the city tore the tears from my eyes before they could spill to my cheeks.

Johnny had attacked me. Attacked me.

What’s wrong with him?

But in my heart I knew. I’d ignored that nagging little fear, and it had been right.

His beast is loose.

If I hadn’t burned up the in signum amoris, I would have known that something was wrong before Johnny’s man-mind had been highjacked by the beast, caught in the throes of bloodlust.

He’d broken my trust in his beast, and I wasn’t sure this could ever mend. My tears flowed faster.

Miles away, something else hit me: His best and bravest were with him, and for now, they were all feral and would follow the dominant male among them, even if that wolf was leading them to trash their own den in order to get out and find meat.

No one was supposed to return to the den for roughly another half hour. What if they weren’t in their kennels when the other wæres showed up? The others would know something wasn’t right with their Domn Lup.

Worse, what if the pack was able to break the barricades? If the three dozen fully formed wæres escaped the building and were loose in a city completely unprepared for them—right before the Domn Lup was supposed to have his prestigious press conference—it would mean disaster for Johnny.

His disaster would mean the ruination of our trio and the failure of me and my destiny.

I couldn’t allow that to happen. No matter what.

My speed slowed. My phone was in my purse, locked in the car. My keys were in the duffel on the rooftop. There was no one I could call and no time to wait for someone else to go and make sure this didn’t escalate into a multilevel tragedy.

I circled around and headed back.