Magic's Fate Page 5

  Rodion felt for the man. He’d literally been blown into their midst and had no idea what was going on.

  Daria piped up. “I’ll make tea. I feel like tea will help. Rodion, why don’t you fill in the details?”

  Trick shrugged and went to the kitchen with her.

  Rodion and Carina sat in the living room with the professor and brought him up to where they’d left the others this morning. Daria came back with a steaming pot of tea, mugs, honey and milk. As she poured, they caught up with the part about the maelstrom in the creek.

  “And I thought being blown around by a rogue breeze was bad,” said Cole as he sat back with his cup.

  The wind beat against the doors and windows in fits and starts, and Rodion watched Carina look outside nervously. He put his hand on her knee and she jumped a little at the touch.

  “It will be all right, milaya. Soon, this will be only a memory.”

  She smiled a little at his words, but he meant every one of them. He’d do anything to keep her safe. She had no idea how far he’d go for her.

  This morning, she’d been a neighbor he’d wanted to get to know better. Well, he got his wish. And what he’d discovered today during some of the most difficult times he’d seen anyone take on, was that she wasn’t just pretty and smart and creative and artistic. She also had backbone like he’d rarely seen, even amongst his own team.

  She put a hand over her arm and grimaced. “I could do without the killer tattoo, that’s for sure.”

  He barely held back a snort. And she was funny. He liked that dry and slightly dark sense of humor. It was very Russian.

  “What happened, Cole?” asked Daria, doctoring her own cup of tea. “How did you get caught in that?”

  “It’s a long weekend at the academy, so I thought I’d take some time off and do a little flying. Check out some of Pandora’s properties, just look over town. Gargoyles and dragons get noticed. Crows, not so much.” He shrugged. “I was over by the town square and spotted something kicking up dust. And, well, I saw something shiny.”

  Carina smiled into the steam from her tea. “You are a crow, after all.”

  He grinned, and Rodion tightened his fingers on her knee. Carina glanced at him with an eyebrow raised and he forced himself to loosen his grip. The instinctive jealousy was neither necessary nor productive. He knew better.

  “Anyway, I got sucked right into the thing. It wasn’t really a tornado, and it wasn’t touching down or doing any damage, it just carried me away. It seemed to be sweeping over the town, like it was looking for something. I’d just gotten a little ahead of it when I saw you guys, and figured I’d better get out if I could. So here I am. Now, does anyone know what that thing is and what it’s after?”

  “Vikhor.” Rodion grated out. “I know exactly what it is. Nazar has harnessed the spirit of the whirlwind.”

  “And he’s sent it out, like another golem?” asked Carina.

  “No, he has to let the vikhor into him to use its energy. He’s actually inside it. Which means he has come to us.” Satisfaction bled into his words. “We may be able to end this sooner than we thought.”

  “Wait, what do you mean?” She put down her tea and the liquid sloshed up to the rim. “We’re only supposed to find a door behind it, but you’re going to go fight the wind? This is a terrible idea.”

  “Nazar still needs me if he wants those shards. They must be taken from me alive, otherwise, he’d have already hired a sniper and done the deed as soon as he knew where I was.”

  She paled, then crossed her arms and glared at him. “This is not filling me with confidence, Rodion.”

  “I’ll be fine.” He’d make sure of it, to protect her.

  “I don’t like it. I don’t like that he found us, and I really don’t like that he’s some sort of mad wizard tornado spirit.”

  There wasn’t anything he could say to ease her mind. And in truth, he wasn’t sure that Nazar wouldn’t kill him. It’s possible the old wizard simply wanted the chance to bathe in his blood himself, rather than hire it done from afar.

  Part of him bristled that she didn’t trust him to take care of himself, the bigger part of him got that her fear for him didn’t stem from her thinking he was weak, but that she didn’t want the worst to happen. He’d moved away from Volshev to get away from women who wanted to smother him in their protection and their fear.

  But much like Daria, Carina wasn’t going to try to stop him. She wasn’t going to stand in his way while he did what he needed to do.

  He opened his arms and she leaned into them, wrapping herself around him. The smell of her shampoo drifted up, and he hoped he would bear the imprint of her body as he walked out to meet battle, that he could carry her scent and her warmth with him like a bogatyr of old carried his lady’s favor.

  He tilted her chin up until he could look straight into her jade-green eyes, then bent to take her mouth.

  Like before, the bite mixed with the sweet. He traced a hand down her back, loving the curves that were soft under his touch, the strength under the silk of her skin, the electric heat that melted from her body into his.

  He didn’t notice until her face was buried in his neck that they were now alone in the living room. Voices drifted to him from the kitchen, and he was grateful for their tact in leaving him alone with Carina for this moment.

  “Cast your runes, milaya,” he whispered in her ear. “Tell me my fortune. But no matter what the bones say, know that I will come back to you.”

  “Come back to me?” She pulled out of his arms, and he could see he’d said something to upset her. Again. “You think I’m going to let you go out there alone? Didn’t we already have this conversation?”

  He nodded cautiously. “Yes. And I can do this on my own. I don’t need your protection. And you can’t fight it. You don’t have the weapons and you’re wounded.”

  Her jaw dropped, and he took a wary half-step back.

  “I’m wounded,” she said, and he thought he might have made a mistake bringing it up. “I’m wounded,” she repeated with emphasis.

  He’d definitely made a mistake.

  “You arrogant, delusional, one-armed, half-wit.” He didn’t realize he’d been backing up until she started stalking him. “What makes you think you need to go out there alone? Why wouldn’t you have help? What are you gonna do, anyway? Shoot it? Stab it?”

  “Actually, yes.”

  She stopped. “I beg your pardon?”

  “That’s how you stop the vikhor. If you can stab it or slash it through the heart, the sorcerer inside it will be wounded. If I can wound Nazar, I can capture him. And if I can capture him, I can get him to release you from the curse.”

  Carina squinted at him thoughtfully. “You’re still arrogant. And one-armed. And probably delusional.”

  “Yes. But not a half-wit?” He tried a tentative smile.

  She frowned at him. “Well, you don’t seem to learn very quickly. I’d better come with you, just in case.”

  Every protective instinct in him surged forward. What was it with this woman needing to charge into danger? “The hell you are.”

  “The hell I’m not,” she snapped back. “We can’t be separated. Remember what happened at the creek? Anyway, I can distract him. ”

  “You mean tempt him to kill you?” He refused to let her put herself in harm’s way. Stubborn woman. Couldn’t she see he needed to keep her safe after he’d been the cause of so much damage already?

  Without any regard at all for her life or his sanity, she continued blithely. “He’s not going to kill me. Like you said, Nazar needs me alive. At least for now. I’m the bait on the hook he set for you. If I die too soon, he knows you won’t give him what he wants.”

  “You’re not going out there. What are you going to do? Throw glitter and wool at him?” He made his words deliberately insulting, but she simply lifted a perfect eyebrow.

  “Actually, yes.”

  She was repeating his earlier words, and he
found he didn’t like it at all. “I beg your pardon?”

  “You know I used to compete in junior rodeo, right? Calf roping. If there’s really a person in the middle of that whirlwind, someone you can stab, then it’s someone I can rope.”

  “This isn’t some Texas tall tale. You’re not Pecos Bill.”

  “You mean Great-Great Uncle Bill?”

  They could have heard a pin drop all the way through the house. The sounds from the kitchen had stopped, and even the walls seemed to be holding their breath. She couldn’t be serious. “Great-Great Uncle Bill?”

  “You didn’t think those stories were all just made up, did you?” She smirked at him and irritation crawled all over his skin. “Sugar, don’t forget I’m from Odessa. The one in West Texas, not the one in Ukraine.”

  Rodion stalked over to her. “I thought you were a norn. A Nordic soothsayer.”

  “I am. From my mom’s side of the family. But the Vardis’s have been all over Texas for a much longer time than anyone can imagine.”

  “And you want to rope the whirlwind?”

  “You want to stab it. Seems fair to me.”

  He reached for her again. “We’re both insane.”

  She nodded into his chest. “But our crazies fit together pretty well.”

  Chapter Eight

  Carina was sure they were both going to die. But at least this way, she’d be going out doing something, not just waiting around for some sneaky spell to cut her off before she was ready.

  Out of her bag, she pulled a skein of wool/silk blended yarn, the color a perfect match to Rodion’s piercing blue eyes. It was the one he’d buried his hand in back at her apartment.

  Cutting the skein into nine pieces of equal length, she set Daria to braiding one set, Trick and Cole to another, and she had Rodion hold one end of her braid. Once those were done, she braided all three braids together one more time to create a thick, flexible rope about ten yards long.

  Too flexible.

  “This thing’s as limp as something I shouldn’t say in mixed company.”

  Cole snorted tea out of his nose, and Daria whacked Trick on the back as he gasped for breath. But Rodion leaned over and whispered, “Not on me, milaya.”

  She choked a little on that, but recovered. She wouldn’t look, she wouldn’t look…

  She looked.

  The man was not wrong.

  After their necking session on the creek bank, she had a good feeling about where their … relationship? She wasn’t sure what to call it. But she liked where it was going. Not to bed yet, of course. They had to live through this curse thing first. But since she was pretty sure he hadn’t stuffed any socks down his pants… Well, it was something to look forward to.

  Ahem. Anyway.

  She taped off the ends of the thick braid. “I wove some warding spells and some small talismans into the wool, but I need this to be sturdier. Not completely stiff because I still have to loop and swing it, but this is too stretchy.” She looked around at the assorted magical and mystical people. “So, who can help?”

  Trick shook his head. “Sorry. I sing. I have some influence over how people feel, but I don’t really have physical powers.”

  “Water magic, sweetie. I’m no help here.” Daria wiggled her fingers with a regretful frown.

  “I’m a familiar.” Cole shrugged helplessly. “I amplify Pandora’s spells, but I don’t have any powers of my own, other than the shift.”

  That left Rodion. The fingers on his weak hand clenched over and over, curving slightly and flexing, but not making a full fist.

  “I don’t know. Ever since this happened, I’ve had trouble controlling my magic. The shield I used earlier is something I haven’t been able to call since I was wounded. A few months ago, I could have done what you asked. Now?” His voice trailed off, and he frowned fiercely at the floor.

  Cole stepped up and put a hand on Rodion’s shoulder. “I might be able to help. I’m obviously bonded to Pandora, but there may be a way for me to help boost your abilities.”

  “It could work.” Rodion nodded. “Trick, I may need your help, too.”

  “Whatever you need, brother.”

  Carina and Daria stood back as the three men stood together in the living room, shoulder to shoulder. Her eyes clouded up, and as she looked over at one of her best friends in the world, she saw that Daria was a little weepy, too.

  “They look good together, don’t they?”

  Carina nodded. She hadn’t been sure that Rodion would accept help from anyone, but she felt sure that, together, the men could find a way to make this work.

  Rodion held the woolen braid in his hands. Trick had both of his hands wrapped around Rodion’s injured arm, and hummed, low and steady. And Cole had one hand on Rodion’s other shoulder, lending support.

  In the midst, Carina watched and listened as Rodion chanted in Russian. Daria translated the call for strength and suppleness to harness the wind, and to protect and defend the one who held the rope.

  Under his increasingly agile fingers, the rope slowly transformed. What had once been lovely but without form became a glittering tool with the strength needed to take on evil.

  At the end, the men were all sweating. Trick hadn’t stopped his song the entire time, and Rodion’s hand moved better than she’d ever seen it.

  “I didn’t know Trick could do that,” whispered Daria in tears. “My poor brother suffered all this time, and we didn’t know.”

  Carina pulled her friend in for a hug. “But we know it now. And now is when he really needed it.”

  Cole was panting lightly, too. The bespectacled math professor swiped a hand over his brow. “I’ve never done that with anyone but Pandora. I hope it helped.”

  “It did. Both of you.” Rodion held out the shining blue lariat to Carina. “I haven’t been able to focus my magic since the injury. This was amazing. Thank you, my friends.”

  The men pulled each other in for brief, back-pounding bro-hugs, then separated.

  Trick squinted at the cloud outside. “But I have to say, the best thanks would be getting rid of that dust devil in my back yard. If it rips up the roses Daria just planted, I’m not responsible for what happens.”

  Rodion held out the rope to Carina. “Ready?”

  “I am. Do you need to rest or something?”

  “I feel better than I have in months.” His smile came easier and it made her heart skip a beat.

  “Then I guess I’m ready when you are.”

  She was letting Rodion’s enthusiasm and renewed strength carry her, because she was honestly terrified. It had been a while since she swung a rope. Junior rodeo champion had been a long time ago. But she had to have faith. She swung and twirled the rope around her, getting used to its weight and balance, wishing she had a horse under her.

  He watched, and she could feel his scrutiny. After a few minutes, however, the rhythm of the rope pulled her in, and she flowed with the movement. Soon, she tried her old rope tricks, a flat loop, spinning the rope around her body in a merry-go-round, standing inside the spinning loop, then spoke jumping where she stepped in and out of the rope. She switched to vertical loop, and once she got the loop wide enough, she was able to jump through it from side to side, a move called the Texas Skip. Finally, she started a butterfly swing that she bounced up her arm, then to her shoulder, and finally over her neck.

  Her friends laughed and clapped, and the familiarity of the rope put her at ease. She could do this.

  But before she rolled up her rope and put it away, she widened the loop and sent it flying over Rodion. It closed loosely around his shoulders and she tugged at it, bringing him close.

  “Nice trick, milaya. You have a lot of hidden skills. Maybe someday you can tie me down where we don’t have an audience.” He winked, and she felt the blush burn through her.

  “I do not need to hear that about my brother and my friend. Ew,” Daria teased.

  Rodion’s laugh was a low rumble that made his bri
ght eyes squint and his white teeth flash. It warmed her from the inside out, listening to his joy.

  “Now I feel like I should show you what I can do.” He nodded at his sister. “Would you sing?”

  Carina had heard Daria sing before. The first time was with Trick, on the little stage at Howler’s. Since then, she’d heard bits and pieces of music, often recordings Daria had made years ago with her family’s Russian folk/pop music group, Sirenas. But she’d never heard her friend like this.

  It was easy to forget that Daria was Russian sometimes. She had almost no accent left, and even though she’d heard Daria and Katya speak to each other in Russian before, Daria seemed a little disconnected from her heritage. It could have been a result of the way she cut herself off from her family to run from her stalker.

  This was the first time Carina heard her friend sing as a rusalka. The Russian siren began low, her voice at the very bottom of her register. Daria’s eyes closed and her shoulders began to move in rhythm with the song. She snapped her fingers, and Trick caught the beat, slapping his hands on his thighs as she sang a martial tune that Carina had imagined could inspire wave upon wave of soldiers to march straight into battle. As she sang, her fiancé began to hum, giving the song a bass thrum.

  And before her eyes, Rodion became more than the neighbor, more than the soldier, more than the man with the smoking hot kisses.

  He became martial beauty. The shashka rang as it came free of its scabbard and began to twirl back and forth, round and round, until it was a gleaming blur. The insistent beat of the song rose higher and higher, and Rodion began to move, weaving in time with the music, pushing himself into the rhythm.

  He spun the blade with his left hand, attacking phantom opponents on all sides, stabbing and slashing high and low before he passed the saber to his right hand. For a moment, the movement faltered. Daria’s song slowed, and as before, he began to twirl the blade, repeating the motions he’d already done, but with the arm that had been wounded.

  It took longer for him to get up to speed, but when he did, he surpassed the dangerous dance he’d done the first time, using both arms to create new patterns and slay new enemies. And all the while, Daria’s haunting wail recalled an ancient ethos of savage bravery.