Blood and Blade (Goddess with a Blade #6) - Lauren Dane Page 0,10

through his wife’s eyes. The Goddess shining bright. They had an uneasy peace, Clive and Brigid. But they trusted one another fully to protect Rowan as best as they could and he knew without a doubt that Brigid would never purposely harm him if for no other reason than he was Rowan’s.

Rowan’s mouth opened for a moment on a soft exhalation and then power, raw, fierce and immense, flowed from her. Surprising him enough that he wasn’t expecting it when she slapped a hand over his throat so hard he nearly stepped back from the pressure.

Through his bond with Rowan, he knew not to panic. Understood he didn’t need to defend himself but rather give over and continue to trust. Even if he still couldn’t stop coughing beyond drawing just a small breath.

Genevieve continued, her voice rising on the breeze that had turned gusty, but she took Rowan’s free hand and even more power shoved into his body.

His insides were white-hot, molten. His joints ached. A splitting headache settled at the back of his neck.

And through it all, even as he fought panic, he trusted Rowan. Kept his gaze on her as a battle waged within his body. Invading magic had infected him just as Carl had said. And it was powerful enough that a witch like Genevieve took assistance from Rowan’s Goddess to drive it from Clive’s body.

Powerful enough that it was as if claws dug into his insides to keep from being driven out.

Genevieve let go of Rowan before she moved behind Clive and pounded his back—high, between his shoulder blades—three times. On that third time, he coughed out what he could only think of as a wad of darkness.

It dropped to the ground at Rowan’s feet with a wet splat.

Air rushed into his lungs and his heart began to slow as the panic was replaced by first disgust and then relief. The cough was gone. The tingling was more a sense memory than anything he had to endure.

Genevieve said, “Get back.”

Rowan took Clive’s hand and tugged him back a few steps before Genevieve did something to set whatever Clive had coughed up ablaze.

Magical fire, a cold blue flame, devoured the remains of whatever had infected Clive in less than a minute. There was nothing left afterward. He knew that because Star had approached to give the area a sniff and then turned her face up to Rowan’s with a sharp bark and then, he could have sworn, a grin.

Genevieve smiled, satisfied and no small amount smug. “You should feel a lot—”

* * *

Rowan knew something was wrong when Clive’s gaze went blurry. He would have fallen to his knees if Rowan hadn’t moved quickly enough to catch him in her arms first.

“What the fuck?” she demanded of Genevieve, ruthlessly attempting not to panic.

“The foreign magics I just removed from him are gone. He’s not infected or under the influence of any magics but those he came with. I swear to you,” Genevieve said and Rowan believed her. “He’s all right. Use your bond with him to verify it yourself.”

Stupid. How could she have forgotten that? Rowan shoved that aside as she checked their bond. He was there. Not weak. Not at all.

“I’ve never seen him like this before,” Rowan said. “Our bond is fine. He’s not suffering. I just don’t know what’s going on and I don’t like it one bit.” She liked an enemy she could see and punch in the face.

“If I may?”

Rowan turned her attention to Betchamp, who’d been watching from the patio.

She nodded and he approached. “I’ve served House Stewart for a very long time. My father did before that. I expect you understand that, having grown up in a Vampire household yourself. Sometimes when his father, who also has the ability to take memories, ingested someone very powerful, he’d fall into a trancelike state. It didn’t last very long. Ten minutes or less. I believe this is what’s occurring with the Scion.”

Lyr had been not only a very old Vampire, but he’d been Made by an even older and far more powerful Vampire who practiced magic.

“This isn’t the spell though? Not the thing Lyr did?” Rowan asked Genevieve again.

“That magic is gone, Rowan. Your Goddess helped me. Helped Clive. The throat can sometimes be a place where a spell blocking discovery might lodge. Let’s get him inside and on the couch. I think Betchamp is correct that he’s in a state where he can take in all the memories that he’s been