Forgotten Destiny Book Three Page 11

  I looked straight at Hayden.

  Hayden twitched again. It was that specific look someone gives when they can’t stomach a situation, but at the same time, they don’t have the luxury of turning away. He settled his gaze on the wall.

  Smythe took a heavy step toward me.

  “Jeopardy is gonna want her alive,” Hayden said through a harsh breath.

  “I know the difference between alive and dead,” Smythe said with a thoroughly horrifying chuckle.

  I shrunk back against the wall. I was still holding the gun, but I knew full well that the second I used it would be the second 20 plus warlocks would attack me. And even though Smythe had promised he knew the difference between dead and alive, I doubted he knew the difference between almost dead and never coming back.

  I… had to do something. I had to get out of here. And just before I could tell myself there was no way, I reminded myself what was behind me.

  I knew the Hidden Grimoires were right through the wall. I just had to get to them. But how?

  The only thing I had was the bubble gun, and I had no idea what kind of effect it would have on a magical wall.

  “Drop the gun,” Smythe said, his voice pitching down low and grating like rock on rock. Everything about this man reminded me of the heart of a mountain – something immovable and something that could crush you in an instant.

  I didn’t drop the gun. I kicked my mind into overdrive, forcing it to come up with a plan.

  But I’d used so much frigging magic in getting here. And that was the point, wasn’t it? That had been Hayden’s entire frigging plan. He’d forced me to run through these tunnels, dodging past the warlocks, all so I would run through my magic and I’d become a soft target when it mattered most.

  “Were you always after me?” I looked right at Hayden. “Or are you an opportunity finder yourself? Could you not pass up the opportunity when I dropped into your lap?”

  Hayden looked away. Which told me all I needed to know about his predicament. He’d been right. He was a man used to sacrificing everything to survive. But buried deep under his deadened persona was someone who still cared. I suddenly remembered what he’d said about his parents – and I could easily bring up the pure emotion that had twisted through his tone. It hadn’t been faked. He’d hated them for what they’d become – the kinds of people willing to do anything for power.

  So there was still a little bit of good underneath Hayden’s deadened exterior – I just had to get to it. I also had to remind myself of one fact. My opportunity magic had told me to tell Hayden the truth. Maybe telling the truth hadn’t mattered – maybe Hayden had already known who I was. After all, I had a pretty deserved reputation around this town. That wasn’t the point. Something had told me to trust him, and I just had to… I just had to go with that now.

  “I told you to drop the gun, Missy. One more chance. Three more seconds.” Smythe took a hard step toward me.

  I should have been terrified. I should have been more terrified than I’d ever been in my life. Hello, I was surrounded by ex-army warlocks, and they were all charged with magic. Every single one of them could crush me in under a second. I had one gun, but using it would spell instant and vicious revenge from my encroaching enemies.

  Smythe took a menacing step toward me.

  I sensed my opportunity. Slowly, nowhere near as quickly as I could, I raised my gun and pointed it at him. Half a split second later, I let my legs fall out from underneath me.

  True to his training, Smythe acted. Before I could fire, he sent a massive bolt of magic charging toward me. I ducked just in time, and the bolt of magic slammed into the wall behind me, sending great blasts of charging flame cascading over it.

  What happened next was chaotic.

  Hayden took a snapped step toward Smythe. “Hey—” he began.

  I was still holding the bubble gun, and I kicked back, my shoulders slamming against the door as it appeared through bursts of crackling magic. Though the magic snaked along my skin, catching the flesh and burning it here and there, I frigging ignored it. I pulled out my gun and fired. This time I used my full reflexes, and this time, I didn’t allow him the opportunity to attack.

  Fortunately, he was right in front of me, and as the bolt from my bubble gun sliced into him, it created a big enough bubble – considering he was a big enough boy – that none of the other warlocks could get around to me.

  I had just enough time to stare into Smythe’s angered face as he was lifted off his feet. I also had just enough time to turn, latch a hand on the handle of the door, and to wrench it open. I rushed inside and slammed it closed.

  And then I felt it. This… sense.

  This sense that I’d somehow come home. No, that wasn’t right. It wasn’t a sense that I’d come to a familiar place – simply a place that I’d always meant to come to. I’d never been a believer in destiny, until now. As I turned slowly, my destiny appeared to remember me.

  Chapter 9

  I was pulled – pulled between reason which told me to bolster my defenses and prepare to defend myself, and pulled between the most exquisite emotion I’d ever felt. The most powerful sensations ran through me as I faced the room. It was darkened but seemed to react to my presence as flame torches lit themselves. Instantly it reminded me of the flame torches I’d glimpsed when Jason had found the books in Constantine’s tunnels.

  The feel of the torches was… almost indescribable. They seemed to take me back to a place, to a time long gone. Just staring at the flickering flames bursting into life dragged my mind back to ancient times. It was like I forgot all modernity entirely. From Max’s phone, which was still in my pocket, to my current frigging predicament. None of that mattered. Madison City could have blown away as nothing more than ash on the wind, and it wouldn’t have bothered me. Because the only thing that really mattered in life was this. This sensation. This ancient power that told me that modern reality was little more than a clever illusion. True power lay before me now.

  I had no idea how much time had passed since I threw myself into the room, but I suddenly heard something slam against the door behind me.

  I turned, the bubble gun still in my hand, and I lifted it to fire at the door in a preemptive strike, but as my finger collapsed against the trigger, nothing happened.

  I felt nothing – no charge of magic in the gun, no sense of power coming from it, either. Hell, as I looked down at it, I realized it was starting to disappear. Right in my very hand, it was… eroding on fast forward.

  I shrieked, dropped it, and jerked back. At exactly the same moment, the door opened with a bang.

  Someone had obviously plucked Smythe down from the bubble, because he powered toward me, two warlocks at his side.

  While Smythe hadn’t charged with power yet – as he was obviously getting over the effects of the bubble blast – the other two warlocks were fully charged.

  Or at least for a few seconds.

  As I jerked backward, fell on my ass, and scuttled away from them with wide, terror-filled eyes, I watched something strange happen to the magical flames surrounding them.

  They started to… extinguish. It wasn’t as if the warlocks were doing it themselves. No – it was like—

  Both warlocks suddenly jerked back. “Something is eating our magic,” one of them bellowed.

  Though Smythe looked exactly as if he wanted to use his meaty fists to beat me into oblivion, at that revelation, he jerked his head toward his men.

  Sure enough, the flames were being eaten away, and with the scent of unmistakable burning flesh filling the air, Smythe’s eyes boggled.

  “Who the hell is doing this? What’s going on?” he demanded. Then he turned to me, as if I was somehow causing this.

  Just before he could round on me, his terrifying face framed by the flickering light of the torches, Hayden burst into the room.

  He had that expression. The same one he’d had just before Smythe had attacked me. An expression that told me I’d been
right. Hayden wasn’t entirely a bad man. Somewhere underneath, there was a grain of good.

  And that grain of good shone to the surface as he whirled into the room, brought his hands up, and stood in front of me.

  I was still on my butt and hands, shaking with fright, and though Hayden was lanky, he was nowhere near big enough to hide Smythe’s enormous form from me. “You can’t use magic in here,” Hayden snapped.

  “Why, what’s that witch doing?” Smythe blared.

  “She’s a finder,” Hayden said through bared teeth. “She’s not a standard warlock; she doesn’t have the ability to do a reverse-magic spell. This room, on the other hand,” he brought his fingers up and pointed them down, “does. They need to get out of here,” Hayden snapped at the warlocks.

  Smythe had looked ready to believe Hayden seconds earlier, but now he straightened up, which was saying something, as he was already as tall as a tree. “If you expect me to believe—”

  “I expect you to believe that I’m the rare book salesman here. I was the one Jeopardy tasked with tracking down these books. And I know how to get them. Unless you suddenly have hidden skills around arcane books that know how to protect themselves, I suggest you pay attention to me.” Hayden, to his credit, didn’t back down. He tilted his head up, and he stared at Smythe’s imposing form.

  Smythe ticked his gaze from me, back to Hayden, then across to the opposite side of the room.

  Though flame torches had lit themselves along the walls, the back of the room was still impenetrable darkness. How long it was, I couldn’t tell. I could, however, tell that it was sucking air toward it. Though ordinarily that would mean that there was some kind of window or gap or hole back there that the air could travel through, I didn’t feel it was the case. I felt, just like with the magic in the room, that there was something sucking everything toward it, including heat.

  I glanced down at my arm as I pulled my sleeve back, and it was covered in goosebumps.

  I didn’t make the mistake of moving suddenly to rub my hands up and down my arms. Do that, and the edgy Smythe would just react.

  Sure enough, Smythe seemed to trust his aggressive hindbrain more than whatever accounted for his dim intelligence, and he tried to take a step past Hayden to get to me.

  Just a flicker of flame marched along Smythe’s knuckles. That was all it took. I caught the instant scent a burning flesh.

  Smythe yelped and jerked his hand to the side.

  Hayden stared pointedly at him. “I told you. This is an anti-magic field. And Beth here is not producing it. There’s no way she would be able to produce it.”

  The two warlocks who’d been charged with magic, only to have it start to eat them, had already withdrawn out into the corridor. Though I could still hear their soft moans, they were no longer shrieking as if they were being burnt apart from the inside out.

  Smythe’s knuckles smoked softly, and he flicked them to the side several times, but he never took his gaze off Hayden. “Fine,” he growled after a long pause. “Get her to her feet. Take her outside. Then find me those books,” Smythe snarled.

  “I need a witch’s help to find the books,” Hayden said point-blank.

  “You said you were the rare book salesman,” Smythe began, his voice arcing up high in unquestionable wrath. Smythe obviously had the ability to go from angry to red-bellied rage in under half a second. I would’ve said he had the ability to go from happy to angry in half a second – but let’s face it, Smythe would never be happy. He struck me as the kind of man who always had an undercurrent of aggression playing through his mind. The kind of man who would prefer a world where might ruled over the weak, and the mighty could do whatever the hell they pleased.

  “I know the rules of this place. I’ve studied it. And yes, you’re going to need me to get to those books,” Hayden’s voice arced up high, “but at the same time, I’m not a witch, and I won’t be able to hold them. Only witches can hold the Hidden Grimoires. I also won’t be able to see them,” he added.

  “So you’re telling me you’re useless—”

  I almost opened my mouth to snap at Smythe that he was being deliberately obtuse. Hayden had already explained that while he understood the rules of this place, he couldn’t see the books nor touch them. That did not make Hayden useless. In many ways, it made Hayden far more useful than the rest of us. But you know what, now was not the time to come to Hayden’s defense. He had put me in this situation, after all.

  Though all I wanted to do was shrug back into the darkness and crawl away, I held my ground as I stared up at them.

  Smythe shook his knuckles to the side once more, and he appeared to actually think. I was surprised that I didn’t see cogs twisting around inside his ears. “Fine – I’ll help you. Get her out of here,” Smythe bellowed, voice arcing up, obviously meant for the warlocks still in the corridor behind.

  “She’ll be more useful to me in here,” Hayden snapped. “She’s a finder, remember.”

  “I thought this place was dangerous,” Smythe pointed out, showing that he actually did have a brain under that thick skull. “And if anything happens to her, Jeopardy is not going to be pleased. So the answer is no. Get her out of here,” Smythe said as he jammed a thumb toward the door.

  Though there were several warlocks hanging around in the doorway, they were truly reluctant to take a step in. Though none of them was stupid enough to be charged with magic, I could tell this place was giving them the willies.

  Fair enough – it was giving me the willies, too. It wasn’t just the sense in the air – nor was it just the softly flickering flame.

  Maybe it was the darkness itself. It seemed thicker somehow – more intelligent, too. The kind of darkness that, if given a chance, would roll over all light and extinguish it forevermore.

  I shivered at that thought.

  Hayden jerked his gaze toward me over his shoulder, and I saw his lips opening. Judging by his expression, he wanted to ask if I was okay.

  Then obviously something clicked in his head and he remembered he didn’t have the right to ask that anymore. He straightened and looked right at Smythe. “Jeopardy is running out of time. The attack on the police force has presumably already begun. If he can’t get these books in time, his gamble is not going to pay off. Internal Affairs are going to capture him, and every single member of the gang,” Hayden brought up his fingers and spread them wide, indicating all the warlocks assembled outside, “are going to be caught. If your communications spells are located, you’re all screwed.” Hayden emphasized the word you’re.

  Smythe did not look happy. He also looked as if he was trying to come to a painful decision. He locked his angry gaze on me. Though all I wanted to do was shrink away, I met it.

  “Fine, she stays. Get up,” he growled at me.

  Slowly, I complied. I could have been surly, sat there on the floor, and waited to be pulled to my feet, but I didn’t want to do that for two reasons. One, if Smythe got his hands on me, judging by his lack of inhibitions, he’d probably wrench my arm from my shoulder socket. And two, I had to take this opportunity while it was given to me.

  Because it was an opportunity.

  Yes, I’d used a heck of a lot of magic in getting here, and yes, I was so tired that I didn’t think I’d be able to practice proper finding magic until I’d had at least a two-day rest. But no – I couldn’t deny the diffuse sensations shifting through me. This was an opportunity, and it might very well be my last.

  So I stood, I turned, and I faced the darkness.

  The darkness that whispered somewhere deep in my mind that my forgotten destiny would soon be remembered.

  Chapter 10

  “Beth, don’t take a step without me,” Hayden said. “This place is full of booby-traps,” he explained.

  “Come here,” Smythe snapped.

  “She’s fine where she is,” Hayden said smoothly. “Considering you’re a warlock – you have the most physical magic, and you need to be careful. Remain f
ive steps behind me, at least,” Hayden said.

  “That’s not going to happen,” Smythe began.

  Hayden turned over his shoulder sharply and looked at Smythe. I could only see a slice of Hayden’s expression, but it was enough to see that he looked as if he was in control. Maybe it was an act, or maybe Hayden was currently in his element. This was presumably what he’d been doing his entire life – sacrificing to help others.

  … I started to kick myself for the fact I hadn’t seen this coming. For one, Hayden hadn’t seemed surprised enough at the revelation Isabella was missing. Sure, he’d looked shocked, but he hadn’t looked gutted enough. If he’d truly spent his entire life trying to save not just his brother, but recently Isabella, then at the admission his gamble hadn’t paid off and Isabella was missing, he would’ve been inconsolably distraught.

  Instead he’d been controlled.

  “For the last time, unless you want to be completely eaten up from the inside out by an anti-magic field, stay several steps behind me,” Hayden snapped. With that, he pushed off. He also nodded at me.

  We made eye contact.

  … I wanted to say I saw the guilt flickering in his gaze. I did. But then I also saw something that had always been there but that I’d failed to see. Desperation.

  Intelligence, too. The kind of intelligence that tells you you can’t just rely on other people if you want to save somebody. You have to rely on yourself and hold nothing back.

  My mind ticked back to Josh. If he were here, he would point out that he’d been right. Back on the bathroom floor when I’d been spouting off theories, though technically a couple of them had been right, that wasn’t good enough. Because I hadn’t seen the whole picture. And because I hadn’t seen the whole picture, I was now in this situation.

  As Hayden walked me forward, I unconsciously shoved a hand into my pocket and grabbed hold of Max’s phone. I pressed my fingers against it, now indulging in what I hadn’t been able to do in front of Max – rubbing his phone like it was a lucky charm. No – like it was Max’s own hand. As I wrapped my fingers around it, it gave me just the same sense of warmth and reassurance I would get if I clutched hold of Max’s palm.