Part 30 (1/2)

Nash nudged Pericles with his pistol. ”Hey. Wake up.”

Pericles's eyes popped open. He took in Nash, the gun, and Gabrielle and me standing over him. He drew a long breath that ended in a cough and wince of pain. ”The artifact?”

”Gone,” I said.

Gabrielle smiled. ”Too bad, so sad.”

”You need an ambulance?” Nash asked him. ”You took one in the chest. I don't care how magical you are . . .”

”No,” Pericles snarled. He gave me a glare that boded me no good, then he vanished.

Nash rose to his feet and let out his breath. ”One down,” he said.

A voice floated faintly to me, one I hadn't heard in days. ”Somebody? Anybody? Help me?

Pleeeeeze?”

”What the h.e.l.l is that?” Gabrielle asked.

The rain was starting to disperse, the moon reappearing through a torn cloud. Under its light, the valley floor glittered with rocks and quartz. One shard of mirror would be difficult to locate.

”Keep talking,” I said. ”I'll find you.”

Nash looked around, pistol ready. ”Who the h.e.l.l are you talking to?”

”Who knows?” Gabrielle answered. ”She's crazy. You get used to it.”

”Please,” the mirror sobbed. ”Take me home. Oh, honey, I'm so scared.” I finally spotted it lying about a hundred yards to the east of where Bear had stood. The shard was silver and s.h.i.+ning, no longer dark.

”Thank you,” it gasped in relief when I picked it up. ”Sugar-plum, you look terrible.” I closed my hand around the shard and turned to find Emmett Smith standing a foot away from me.

His gla.s.ses were bent, one of the lenses broken, but he'd shoved them back on and straightened his blood-soaked tie. Behind the ruined gla.s.ses, his eyes were clear and hard and held the intensity of a basilisk.

”You have a magic mirror, ” he said, voice ringing. ”You b.i.t.c.h, you've been holding out on me.”

Chapter Twenty-Eight.

This was not good.

Emmett stood before me fully functional, while I was crackling with residual storm magic, exhausted, and had a headache from h.e.l.l. All he had to do was kill me, and then kill Mick, and the mirror was his. At this point, I was pretty sure he could do it.

Emmett's aura was tough, like thick hide, bright white like Gabrielle's. He had no Beneath magic in him, but the earth magic he'd learned and stored filled every centimeter of his body. I felt that magic stir into a killing spell.

As Latin words started from his throat, I drew on the vestiges of the storm magic and my Beneath magic and channeled them into the mirror. But I knew it wouldn't be enough, not against someone like Emmett when I was this spent.

Just as Emmett let fly the spell, me desperately gathering my fading magic, several tons of dragon poured out of the sky.

One of Mick's wings caught Emmett and sent him tumbling to the ground. Emmett's spell went wide and missed me, to be caught in the gentle wind that played where Bear had stood. I redirected the last of my magic to the spell, sliced into it, and finished it off.

Emmett was on his feet, fists balled, readying another spell to blast Mick. And then Nash rose behind Emmett, pressing his pistol to the man's ear, his other arm wrapping around Emmett's waist. Emmett's spell, obliterated by Nash's null field, died before it formed.

”Leave,” Nash advised him. ”And don't let me find you around Janet or Mick again.” Emmett scowled, but I knew better than to think he'd obey Nash. Emmett would be back, now that he knew I had something worth his while. ”Better start looking over your shoulder, Stormwalker,” he said in his smooth, cool voice. ”If you'll let go of me, Sheriff, I'll gladly go.” Nash kept his pistol trained on Emmett, but he eased his hold from around the man and took several steps away. Emmett straightened his tie again, then he vanished.

Mick had landed somewhere off in the darkness, and now he walked out of that darkness as a man covered in rain and streaks of blood. He came for me and lifted me off my feet, holding me against his hot, hard, wet body.

”Hey, baby,” he said, his voice dark. ”Miss me?”

Nash, two feet away from us, noisily re-holstered his weapon and cleared his throat. ”Good to see you in one piece, Mick,” he said. ”Where the h.e.l.l is my truck?”

Elena came driving back about thirty minutes later, steering Nash's F250 down the rutted road to the canyon.

While we watched them approach, Ansel rejoined us. He'd come out of the unconscious state the rest of us had been thrown into, and now he stood at my side, staring bleakly at the truck's approaching headlights. His eyes were normal, no blood frenzy, but I'd never seen him so morose.

Elena pulled the truck to a halt in the exact same spot from which she'd taken it. Colby, in human form, lay on his back in the truck's bed, a tarp over him. Drake, naked, bruised, and b.l.o.o.d.y, sat next to him.

I climbed into the truck and knelt next to Colby. Mick rested his arms on the truck's side and watched, concerned.

”Hey, Janet,” Colby said, his voice weak. ”I feel like s.h.i.+t.” Dragons are good at healing themselves, but sometimes it takes a while. Colby had been ripped into and then suffered a fall of several hundred feet. His injuries wouldn't be a quick fix.

Gabrielle vaulted over the side of the truck. ”Aw, poor Colby. You look awful.” Her voice went little-girl sugar. ”And this itty-bitty, wittle binding spell can't be helping you, can it? I'll make it all gone.”

Drake grabbed for her, but Gabrielle had already put her hand on Colby and let her magic surge.

Colby yelled as an arc of pure Beneath magic lifted his body from the truck bed and slammed it back down. He groaned in pain, but I saw the threads of the binding spell dissolve and disappear.

Colby took a deep, grating breath, and blinked. He raised his head and looked down at his body, then he blew out the breath and let his head drop back again. ”Thanks,” he said, his voice stronger. ”I feel better already.”

Drake's eyes narrowed as he began to chant the binding spell again, but Gabrielle seized his hand. ”No, Drakey, don't do that. I might have to hurt you.” She clamped down on Drake's hand, and Drake winced.

”Tell you what,” Gabrielle said. ”Spend the rest of the night with me, Drakey, and maybe I'll let you put the spell back on him.”

Colby raised his head again. ”And that's fair, how?”

Gabrielle smiled at him. ”You can join in, if you want. I'll heal you at the same time. It'll be fun.”

Colby grinned with her. ”That's more like it.”

”Gabrielle.” The voice was my grandmother's, the tone one she'd reserved for me on my most misbehaving days.

Gabrielle glared at Drake. ”Now you've gone and gotten me into trouble.” She swung her leg over the side of the truck and slid down, moving to my grandmother's side, arguing as she went.

Drake raised his hand again, beginning the words to reinstate the binding spell.

”Don't,” I said.