Darkness Avenged (Guardians of Eternity) Page 0,117

him,” Theo commanded even as he began to fade beneath the reality of Santiago’s presence. “Kill him before he can destroy you.”

Santiago stepped into the building, half dragging a sadly decomposing Gaius beneath one arm.

He walked cautiously forward, his dark gaze studying her with a fierce intensity. “Are you okay?”

“Stay back,” she commanded, wishing he had never appeared despite the fact his mere arrival had given her strength.

She couldn’t bear it if the spirit forced her to hurt him.

He held her gaze as he continued his slow pace forward. “I can’t do that.”

She trembled. “Please.”

“Trust me, my love.”

“I’m”—she could feel the spirit inside her trying to cloud her mind—“not in control.”

“Then give me the control,” Santiago urged, his beautiful face softened with an expression of love so pure it muted any attempt by the spirit to stir her anger.

Not that the spirit was about to give up without a fight.

Unable to claim her mind, it instead tightened her muscles, clearly preparing to attack.

“Santiago.” Her eyes held a growing panic. “I can’t.”

“Yes, you can. You know I will always be here for you. I will never fail you.” He held out one arm in welcome even as he clutched the seemingly unconscious Gaius in the other. “Trust me.”

What was he doing?

Did he think she could actually fight off the spirit?

She might be powerful, but she wasn’t Wonder Woman.

A cry was wrenched from her throat as her body was suddenly hurtling forward, her fangs fully extended. It was the only warning Santiago had, but it should have been plenty to give him the opportunity to dodge her attack.

Instead, he stood with an unwavering determination, barely flinching when she rammed into him with the force of a cement truck.

Her fangs sank in his neck as he wrapped an arm around her waist, his voice barely audible over the terror that pounded through her.

“Now, Gaius.”

Chapter 29

Sally had never actually tried to walk around with an elephant on her back. It wasn’t the sort of thing that even a witch did on a regular basis. But after the past few minutes she was pretty sure she now knew what it would feel like.

Kneeling in front of the safe, which had been fully exposed by the simple process of Styx and Roke bashing through the remaining bricks, she felt sweat trickling down her face and her muscles trembling in protest.

She’d used magic from the day she’d left her cradle. Maybe even before then.

She’d perfected the fine art of casting until she could perform them with flawless precision; she could brew potions that were so potent they sold for twice the usual price. And she could sense a spell from a remarkable distance.

But while she was highly proficient in the usual arts, she’d never actually tried to manipulate magic.

It was . . . exhausting.

Both mentally and physically.

Each layer of magic had to be carefully unraveled from the complex web, but it wasn’t like they disappeared. She had to maintain her hold on each thread while continuing to loosen the others.

And all the while, she knew one wrong tug could create an explosion that would destroy even vampires.

Gritting her teeth, she tried to ignore her rapidly fading strength. Just a little more and . . . a moan was wrenched from her throat as she felt herself beginning to sway.

Crap, crap, crap.

She raised her hands to keep from falling on her face, but she’d barely moved an inch when strong arms wrapped around her and the sensation of cool, euphoric power pulsed through her weary body.

Roke.

He was using their connection to give her the strength she needed.

The debilitating fatigue faded from her mind and she tilted back her head to offer a grateful smile. “Thank you.”

His lean, compelling face remained hard with disapproval even as he gently brushed a strand of hair from her pale cheek. “Sally, you can’t keep going like this,” he said gruffly.

“I’m close.”

“I don’t care.” His voice was strained, as if he were barely preventing himself from physically hauling her away from the warehouse. “You’re going to burn yourself out.”

“I can’t stop now.”

The dark eyes smoldered with frustration. “You can at least rest.”

“No. If I let go . . .”

“What?”

She wrinkled her nose. “Let’s just say bad things will happen.”

His arm abruptly tightened around her shoulders, his expression resolute. “How many times do I have to tell you? Nothing is going to happen to you,” he swore softly.

A treacherous warmth threatened to melt her heart as he regarded her with an unwavering devotion. Her