“What are you doing? I smell magic.”
“Magic wielders work by controlling energy. They take a little of that power, harness it and then mold it to do what the user demands.”
She panted as the strain continued to grow. “A magic user needs spells to practice their craft. Their spells are like needles, the energy the string, and they sew very carefully, very delicately to create a pattern in order to get the energy to do what they want.
“For me, magic’s like trying to sew with a railway pike. What I’m trying to do is destroy that pattern. If I can disturb it for just a second...” Her voice trailed off as the energy threatened to drown her. Her eyeballs felt as if they were floating in acid.
Then she felt it.
A faint waver.
“Now,” she shouted, hoping they had enough time to break it before the magic ricocheted inside her, desperate to be absorbed back into the necklace.
Neither man questioned her. They grabbed hold of the blisteringly cold metal and pulled.
A crack like ice breaking rang in her ears. When they continued to pull, the necklace split in two, throwing both men backwards.
The energy inside her went wild, tearing her up in order to get out. She doubled over, unable to gasp for breath.
“Drop them. Get out of the way.” The metal clanged to the floor, the pieces appearing tarnished and old. When all three men stepped away, she allowed her hold to slip. The magic slammed out of her and funneled into the metal. The pieces clanked together. The crack melded, the polish shining once more as the magic forced the energy back into the pattern of the spell.
Raven gasped, desperate for air, falling to her knees when everything quieted. The lights flickered then dulled but remained stable. When she looked up, it was to find all three men staring at her with varying degrees of shock.
“That’s not possible.” Jackson’s eyes had reverted to their whiskey brown color.
Rylan snorted. “Of course not.”
“Did I hurt you?” Taggert gingerly touched his throat, and her heart pounded at his silence. Raven groaned as she tried to find her feet. Even her hair protested moving.
Taggert didn’t move but to stare at her. Then he slowly shook his head. Some of the tension that kept her back straight seeped out of her. “Then go upstairs and take a shower. It’s been a long night, and I have a full day of work tomorrow searching for Jason’s girlfriend.”
A noise bubbled up the back of Jackson’s throat. He looked at the necklace and nudged it with his foot. Nothing happened. “If people found out...”
“They won’t.” Steel underlined Rylan’s word, a warning to both the shifters and her. But she knew someone would eventually. She had to prepare for that time. Just not now, not when her brain felt scrambled.
Rylan bent and retrieved the necklace, touching it carefully. “I think you just defeated the boogieman.” A cynical smile passed his lips then quickly died as he studied her. His eyes crinkled a little at the corners as his gaze narrowed.
“You have a couple of messages in the study. While they’re getting ready for bed, why don’t I show you?” He was giving her an out from the questions building in everyone’s minds, time to recuperate and settle the fluctuating power that sloshed in her like a drunken sailor on shore leave.
As soon as the others left the room, Rylan dropped the necklace on the table and pulled out a chair. “Sit.”
She collapsed onto the hard stool and groaned, grateful for the support and Rylan’s instinctive understanding of her need to hide her weaknesses from the others.
“How bad is it?”
Raven shrugged. “I held a spark too long. When I took the magic and poured it back into the necklace, it took everything. I don’t know how they bear the price magic demands. If I didn’t have so much stored, I don’t think it would’ve worked.”
“Damn the necklace. What the hell were you thinking, taking chances like that? I’ve seen witches die for less. Rule one is never touch an active spell you haven’t cast yourself.”
Raven gaped at him, a little shocked at his display of emotions. He always kept them tightly under wrap for fear someone would sense he was different. With his wavy hair and wild emotions, he could pass for human. Except for the hint of fangs peeking between his lips.
“If he continued to wear it, he would’ve remained a target.”
“Then leave him here with his guard.” Agitated, he ran a hand through his hair, messing it up further before the strands obediently fell back into place. Not even his hair or clothes dared defy his control for long.
That’s when she noticed the little tears in his jacket and pants. “What the hell happened to you?”