The Wizard King (14 page)

Lana shrugged. “I’m not a warlock Own. Ask Gen what’s going on if you don’t believe me.”

The serenity he’d come to associate with Gen once more blanketed her, but there was something else there now, a sense that she was
other
as well as his mate, and his wolf whined unhappily. Gareth wasn’t too thrilled either, but he tried to soothe both himself and his beast by reminding it that Gen’s relationship with the Goddess was much like Gareth’s own with his wolf. The two worked together to make a better whole, but there was always a price to pay. He should have thought of his wolf, of what the Becketts had overcome to live with the beast within them. Now that he’d seen his mate call upon Hecate, he understood far better than she probably thought.

Gareth tilted his head as he watched Gen, Zach and Daniel caught up in the triad of light. He just wished the price wasn’t so painful for her.

The triangle faded, leaving all three magics to collapse to the floor. Zach was the first to rise to his feet, his brother’s strength amazing as he thanked both the gods and the elements, dismissing the circles by himself.

Daniel was next, his expression…odd. “Daniel?”

For a brief moment, it was as if Daniel couldn’t hear them. “Yeah?”

“You okay?”

He took a breath, held it, then let it out as if he wanted to say something but didn’t know how. “Maybe?” He shook himself, that strangely lost expression disappearing. “Annabelle will be all right. She’s in the hospital.” Lana gasped. “Some sort of curse is keeping her out of it, and the staff from checking her records. She’s in under a Jane Doe admittance, which is why we haven’t been notified.”

Zach helped Gen stagger to her feet, his arm wrapping around her waist when she stumbled. Zach, his expression turning fierce, his body glowing with power, stared straight at Daniel. “Kerry’s being held by Hugh.”

“You’re not ready yet.”

Gen gritted her teeth and continued to arm herself.

“Purple rainbows fly out my butt every Tuesday.”

She paused, the gun she’d been sliding into her pocket forgotten. “What?”

Gareth shrugged. “Just making sure you’re paying attention.”

She rolled her eyes and continued to pack the essentials. “I’m as prepared as I can be, Gareth.”

“I saw what that ritual did to you.” His displeasure was clear. His arms were crossed over his chest, his feet braced as if he expected her to fly at him with fists raised. He was ready for a fight, one she had no intention of giving him. “You need to rest before you go after Hugh.”

“Kerry can’t afford for me to rest.”

Gareth winced, some of the aggression leaching out of his stance. “I understand that, but—”

“No, Gareth. Please, don’t do this.” She had to make him see, or it would haunt the rest of their lives together. “This is who I am, and if you can’t accept that, you can’t accept me.”

He flinched, his arms falling to his sides. “That’s not fair.”

“Neither is trying to keep me from fulfilling my duties and saving your brother’s mate.” If she didn’t put her foot down now he’d run roughshod over her. “Now. Let me go do what needs to be done.”

He snarled, his wolf close to the surface as his fangs popped out. “Rest, then go. That’s all I’m asking of you.”

“We don’t have that luxury.” She took a deep breath, trying desperately to calm the certainty that if she didn’t go
now
Kerry would suffer. “You didn’t see what I saw.”

Kerry, splayed out on an altar, her soul slowly draining into the dagger Hugh held as he chanted, feeding his demon in exchange for power. Power he intended to use to go after Gareth and the wizard court.

If he got hold of Gareth’s soul now that he’d been crowned, the power of the court itself would flow through the demon and into Hugh. He would be forever linked to every single wizard, the tie of the king granting him that small sliver necessary to perform sympathetic magic and steal steadily from all of them. No other king would be crowned, as the king’s soul would reside in Hugh’s blade, still aware of its surroundings even as the body decayed. Until Gareth moved on to the side of the Goddess, the court would be in turmoil, bound by the warlock’s demon, a feast for both.

Hugh had to be aware of how Zach had stopped their father. He would take precautions to make sure that Zachary Beckett couldn’t stop him. Only Gen, through her blood ties with Hugh, would be able to slip past the defenses he had in place and destroy the dagger.

“If you’re so certain you’re ready to fight him magic to magic, why are you taking a gun?”

He sounded so smug with that one she almost hated to burst his bubble. “Because of your reaction.” His brows rose. “No one expects an Own to fight with mundane weapons. You all expect us to ride in, wands blazing, and decimate the enemy with superior spell work.” She shrugged. “Sometimes it works better to simply shoot them in the head.”

He was startled into a laugh. “Is your brother aware of your gun?”

Good question. She holstered the gun anyway. Whether Hugh was aware of it or not, the knowledge that it was there made her feel better about going after him. Hugh was particularly frightening, and he wouldn’t have the leash their father had placed on him to hold him back any longer. “I have no idea.”

Gareth nodded. “Then if you’re insisting on doing this, let us give you some protections.” He held up his hand when she wanted to protest. “You’re the motherfucking wizard queen, and my mate. If he gets his hands on you, I’ll come after him. He has to know that, just like he has to know you’ll be the one hunting him.”

Gareth had a good point. “Fine. What is it you want to do?”

“This.” He grabbed her, yanked her close and held her tightly to his chest as he took a deep breath. “I swear, you get hurt and I’m going after him.”

“Gareth—”

“You don’t get to argue with me on this one.” She was startled to realize he was trembling. Big, strong Gareth, and he shook at the thought of her hurt. “He hurts you, I fuck him up.”

Then she’d just have to make sure she took Hugh out before he could lay a hand on her. “I give you my word I will do everything in my power to come home safely.”

“You called this home.”

If he were a cat he’d be purring. “I haven’t forgotten that Daniel was the one who wanted you to complete the mate spell.”

All of the tension that had poured out of him when she’d called this place home came roaring back. His shoulders tightened and growls shook him. “That wasn’t what I meant, Gen.”

Perhaps she should have let it go, but she couldn’t. Gareth meant far too much to accept that. “Then explain it to me, because that’s what it felt like.”

He cupped her face in his hands, forcing her to look up at him. What she saw there had her drawing in a breath.

Pain. He was hurting already, the cry of his wolf clear in his increasingly haunted golden eyes. “I didn’t mean for you to ever think I had to be forced to claim you, Genevieve Godwin. Nothing could be further from the truth.” He stroked her cheek, his gaze following the movement of his hand. “I touched your soul, and you turned everything I’d ever believed in upside down.” Gareth smiled as he caressed her lips with his thumb. “I didn’t care that you were a warlock, or an Own. All I saw was this bright, shining goodness inside you, and I wanted it for myself.” His expression turned grim. “I’m not a good man, Gen. I’ll destroy anyone who tries to hurt my family, and it won’t be pretty. I will go after them with everything I am, and drag the entire court with me if I have to. I will use every power at my disposal to obliterate them. And that’s just what I’d do for my brothers.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “Now picture what I’ll do if someone hurts my mate.”

She probably shouldn’t be quite as turned on as she was, but damn. She whined. “I don’t have time!”

He chuckled darkly, but she could still see the fine edge of his temper riding him. He was not happy at all, but there was little she could do about it. “Do you accept me as your mate?”

She studied his expression, trying to see why he’d ask that. “I thought you had to accept me.”

He closed his eyes, the growl that continued to shake him so low she barely heard it. “I accepted you the moment our souls joined, Gen. I just needed to figure out the right way to apologize to you.”

Her jaw literally dropped. The man continually surprised her. “Wait…what?”

His eyes opened. “I was embarrassed at how badly I’d misjudged you. I treated you like shit, Gen, and I know it. I never hated you, but I was worried your ties to your family would cloud your judgment and you might choose to save them rather than Jo or Kerry.” He cupped her cheek again. “I wished I’d treated you the way you deserved from the moment you showed up, ready to help Zach. You knew you were going to face a lot of hostility, but you showed up anyway, just because Zach needed you.”

“It was worth it, Gareth. I would do it again.”

The smile that crossed his face made her heart skip a beat. “And that’s why I—”

The pounding on the door interrupted him again. Gareth growled loudly enough to shock her. “Go. Away.”

“I can’t, bro.” Zach’s voice was sorry, but firm.

“Why not?” Gareth’s wolf was in his tone, snarling and snapping. Whatever he’d planned on saying must have been important if it had brought his wolf so near to appearing that his claws came forth. Gen could feel them, hard and cold against her cheek.

“We’ve got Annabelle, Gareth, and it’s not good. We might need Gen to help lift the curse.”

“I’ll be right out.” If Zach said she was needed she was inclined to believe him. Zach’s instincts were incredibly accurate.

“We aren’t done, Gen.”

“No, we’re not.” This time she dared to return his caress, touched to her core at the way he nuzzled her palm. “Not by a long shot.”

Chapter Nine

Gareth followed Gen into the room, stopping short at the sight of the gurney in the middle of his living room. The woman on it was so still he feared for her, but it was obviously Annabelle Evans. “Good job, Mac.”

“Thank you, sire.” Mac bowed slightly, but Gareth let it go. He’d slowly break the man of the habit.

“How the hell did you get her here so quickly?” Gareth stroked Annabelle’s hair off her forehead. She looked so peaceful, like she was sleeping, but he knew better. Somehow, some way, Hugh Godwin had gotten through the powerful witch’s defenses and put her under a sleeping curse. Her chest barely moved, her eyes still behind her lids. Deeply asleep, Annabelle would remain unconscious until she simply faded away, starved and dehydrated, unless someone found her in time. It was an insidious curse, designed to make a death look natural, as if the victim simply suffered some sort of stroke and passed out, never to awaken. Hospitalized, she would have been given intravenous fluids and a feeding tube, her vital signs monitored for any changes. The doctors would have run tests on her blood, her brain, checked her for drugs that would induce a coma, but nothing would show. The verdict would be one of those strokes where the blood clot simply disappeared, because nothing else would make medical sense. She’d live only by the grace of modern technology, alive in name only. If left long enough, not even an Own would be able to lift the curse.

They’d gotten her out in time, and if he knew his mate and his brother, Annabelle would soon be back among the living.

“I informed the hospital that I was acting on behalf of her granddaughter, and got Lana to confirm who she was. It took some doing to get them to agree to send her here without Lana’s physical presence. I’m afraid we had to use a little…persuasion.”

He meant Lana muttered some spell under her breath to ease her way. He would have done the same to get a family member home safely. “I’m just grateful she’s here.”

“So are we. We told the hospital we were having her transported to a private hospital, then had our people pick her up and fly her to us. Thank goodness she was still in Philadelphia or it might have taken even longer.”

“And thank goodness she was taken to the hospital where Kerry works, because one of the nurses vouched for me and helped expedite the release papers.” Lana held her grandmother’s hand in a death grip. It was odd, seeing Annabelle without her trademark T-shirts. Her face was usually so expressive, the stillness was almost creepy.

“So.” Gareth stroked back Annabelle’s hair. He had to believe that they had the power to bring her back. Nothing less was acceptable. “How do we wake her up?”

Gen was studying Annabelle, her brow furrowed in concentration. Zach was at the dining room table, carving something into a white candle. Gareth was willing to bet it was a Hecate’s Wheel, the same symbol he used to remove the hex that had ridden him for months and left him depressed, his magic almost fatally flawed. He’d also done the same when he saved Lana from a death curse that had slowly leached her warmth and life force until she was almost worse off than Annabelle. Zach had removed both curses using that symbol and his strength of will.

He was proven right when Gen glanced over at Zach. “We modify Zach’s spell and pull the hex from her and into the candle.”

“Will it work? Zach’s hex was different than this.” Chris was pacing back and forth, his wolf restless at his mate’s distress. “This is more like a sleeping beauty curse. It’s almost like what Cole tried to do to Lana.”