CHAPTER 55
As day yielded to the darkness of night, Caster’s rational mind understood his actions.
He feared returning to Mark’s bedside where his considerable strength was useless.
So, as he, Damien, Cy and Dean tore apart another one of Uncle Lucien’s safe houses, he reveled in the satisfying high his blood lust had brought.
Edie had only been too happy to help. Buoyed by Amara’s considerable power, the witches used the dead or dying Made-Vampires to locate any new ones, and Caster and his army of four were only too happy to dispatch them.
They had killed no less than two hundred of Uncle Lucien’s army and a considerable number of humans who were unfortunate enough to be in the vicinity of the battle.
The slight tinge of guilt at the dead humans he’d been too happy to drain was the first indication that his blood lust was close to satisfied. He pushed the next victim into Damien’s sword, impaling him on it before a single swing of his weapon severed his head.
Cy held two hearts in his hands, and Dean’s claws ripped through the final two.
The sickening stench of stale blood reaching past the roar in his mind was the second indication that he was returning to himself, but he called the blood lust back, certain that he wouldn’t survive even the thought of Mark, helpless and hurt on his bed.
His cousin, his brother, and the Prime Alpha followed him outside away from yet another bloody mess on their way to the next one. A stiff wind whispered through the night, cooling the exertion on his skin.
“Caster!” Damien’s warning tore him away from the images of death and destruction taking up all the room in his mind.
He stopped mid-stride, but didn’t get the chance to question his cousin’s interruption.
Yellow smoke coalesced in front of him, forming into Pierce’s human camouflage.
His anger would not let him see straight, his bloodlust taking over before his rational mind could warn him of the futility of his action.
He swung his weapon at the demon, the sound of it slicing the space between them as it sailed towards Pierce’s head only adding to his desire for blood.
Pierce caught the blade at its sharpest point and used his hold to pull Caster towards him. The flash of yellow in his eyes was the only indication of his surprise. “This won’t work on me.”
He pushed the sword away, his considerable strength pushing the weapon and Caster into Damien. Caster’s rational mind, still hidden behind the need to make someone pay for his pain, failed to register the threat from the demon. He righted himself and snarled his intent, but Damien held him in place.
Pierce, unbothered by the display, moved closer to him. “Are you ready to save him or should I let you get your fill first?”
In the second it took for the demon’s words to make sense, the blood lust was gone, replaced by the pain he’d been trying so hard to run away from.
“What do you know?” Dean’s whisper was low, his Alpha’s growl following in its wake.
“I am with him right now.”
Caster frowned, his mind fully engaged in the present moment.
Pierce waved a hand over his body. “Part of me is with him right now, but we need to act fast. He is sinking.”
The fear of losing Mark surged through his body, infusing his muscles with the energy they needed to move. He gripped his sword tighter, needing the reassurance it brought, and looked Pierce in the eye. “Help me!” A demand had formed in his mind, but a plea left his lips.
Pierce nodded and then glanced at his sword. “Where did you get that?”
Caster looked at his hand and returned a questioning gaze toward Pierce, still unable to form the right words.
Damien held up his own weapon. “They’ve been in our family for generations, why?”
Pierce paused for a moment, as if searching for a long-lost memory, and then nodded to himself. “They will work. Come on! We don’t have much time.”
His brand of teleportation spell swirled around them, the suddenness of it drawing Caster further away from the fury and into the fear of seeing a helpless Mark again. But as they materialized not in his bedroom, but in Marcus’s study, hope bloomed. Perhaps he had misjudged Pierce.
No. Your instincts are always right. Trust them.
Caster caught the demon’s eye and nodded his gratitude, but he still refortified his mind, creating a double wall against the intrusion. They should clean up, but he was too desperate to hear Pierce’s plan.
The demon did not make him wait too long, urgency apparent in the way he failed to rein in his power. “Where is the powerful one?”
Caster screamed for Riley in his mind, and an irritated Riley teleported into the room. He frowned at the state they were in, but didn’t question them.
“We need to act fast. I am doing my best to keep him from slipping under, but…” Pierce said as Marcus walked in.
Marcus narrowed his eyes at Caster. Found what you needed?
His answer was a small nod, too consumed with Pierce’s frantic energy.
“What are you talking about?” Riley asked, his confusion apparent.
Pierce stopped pacing and reached for Caster’s sword and then Damien’s. He looked at Riley. “What do you know of talismans?”
Riley narrowed his eyes. “Objects that can hold power?”
Pierce handed both swords to Riley. “I need you to take most of my power and most of yours and infuse these two objects with the combination.”
Riley gasped. “Why?”
Caster did not understand what it meant, having never seen magic of its kind, but it seemed significant enough to startle Riley.
Pierce’s patience was at its breaking point as he all but pushed the weapons into Riley’s hands. “It is the only way to save the Magicae Lupus. We need to hurry. He is slipping away from me.”
Riley glanced at him. His hesitation was clear, but they didn’t have time to discuss the merits of the plan.
Those instincts Pierce had begged him to trust told him this was the right call.
He trusted Pierce’s conviction. His desire to help Mark may be selfish, but Caster didn’t care why he wanted to help, only that he did.
“Riley, please…” He wasn’t above begging.
“Have you found anything else?” Marcus asked.
Riley sighed, defeat apparent in the sag of his shoulders. “No. Not yet.”
“And you might very well find something,” Pierce said, “But he can’t wait that long, and losing him is not an option.” He looked at Caster, yellow flashing across the blue of his eyes. “Not when the witch yet tries to open another tear.”
Riley nodded then. “OK. But how will our combined power in these help Mark?”
“We will use the swords to create our own tear, and I will guide him through it.”
“Mark is in the Underworld?” The fear his blood lust had staunched returned with enough force to zap all his strength.
Pierce’s denial, apparent in the subtle shake of his head, gave Caster some of his hope back. “No. He is in the space between the Veil and the Underworld. But even Magicae Lupus cannot remain there for too long.”
Caster turned to Riley, but the words he searched for, begging his friend for help, were unnecessary. He saw Riley’s determination in the moment, all hesitation gone, and gratitude for his friend’s selflessness meshed with the relief apparent in the way his body sagged against Marcus’s desk.