I suspect the presence of the wild magic in your DNA may have stymied your natural magic, Gabe said, but with puberty, those restraints began to fade. It would also explain why the spell that saved you from Clayton was infused with wild magic.
It made as much sense as any theory I’d come up with.
You only need to use your magic and Gabe’s knowledge to block whatever Clayton intends for however long it takes Maelle to rescue Belle came Katie’s comment. After that, you can deploy the wild magic.
But not to kill—and not just because that would have Maelle’s need for revenge twist onto me. A death-based act of revenge would irrevocably stain the wild magic.
“Fine,” I said. “What do I do?”
Nothing more than what you do when you wish to share sensory awareness with Belle. Gabe can see and react through you, but it will be your magic rather than his or the wild magic.
I hoped she wasn’t overestimating my magic. This could all go to hell in a handbasket very quickly if she was.
After a deep breath that did little to calm the inner churning, I reached psychically through the wild magic’s connection for Gabe’s spirit. His energy flowed down the link and then fused with mine—not so deeply that his spirit shared body space, but deep enough that he could use his skill and direct my magic while seeing through my eyes.
It felt weird. Felt like I was present in my body and yet standing apart.
You’re in control, Gabe said, his words echoing loudly through my brain, I will only intervene as necessary.
I hoped it wouldn’t be necessary, but that was a futile hope, and we all knew it. Things would get nasty, especially once Belle was freed, and it was very possible none of us was going to be magically strong enough. Maybe I should have asked Aiden for a goddamn gun… My gaze went to my backpack and, after a slight hesitation, I drew out my silver knife and tucked it into the back of my jeans. A last resort if all else failed.
I continued on into the ranch house’s long driveway, but the inner weirdness had my hands slipping on the steering wheel, briefly sending the SUV in the wrong direction before I readjusted.
Up ahead, the front door opened. No one stepped out. My heart pounded so damn fast, it felt like one long scream. I flexed my fingers and tried to remain calm. I wasn’t alone. I had help. I could do this.
I had to do this.
I stopped the SUV, but didn’t immediately kill the engine or get out. No one appeared to be moving within the house, and I had no sense of either Belle or Clayton. But his magic was very evident. It cloaked the entire building, layered with every sort of protection and retaliation spell imaginable. I could get in—the exception was so plainly visible it was obvious he wanted me to see it—but I had to wonder if getting out was going to be possible.
I squeezed the pendant lightly to turn on the recorder, then grabbed the backpack and climbed out of the SUV. My legs wobbled briefly, and it was only my grip on the door that kept me upright. The weird, almost out-of-body sensation of sharing brain space with Gabe was disconcerting, to say the least. I swallowed heavily and forced my feet forward, concentrating intently on every step, rather than the magic that flickered angry snakes toward me. His magic was strong, fierce, furious, and it stung my skin as it probed both the backpack and me. My breath caught in my throat, but I clenched my fingers and resisted the urge to react.
“Lose the pack,” Clayton said, his voice coming from somewhere to the left of the door. “And your phone.”
But not the knife. And not the pendant. For whatever reason, he hadn’t sensed the presence of either on my person. I obediently dropped the pack on the top step and then placed my phone beside it.
“Excellent,” he said. “Please proceed inside.”
I took a deep breath and then stepped through the thick cloak of his magic. I might as well have stepped through a wall of white heat. His magic tore at me, a wave of tiny claws that ripped into my skin, seeking to contain, to bind. My magic rose in response, and the charm at my neck burned to life. The wave briefly abated, then surged anew. Panic rose; I couldn’t do this. Couldn’t fight him—
Yes, Gabe cut in calmly, you can.
My hand rose unbidden, and words sprang to my lips. Power shimmered from my fingertips, and a shield flared around me. The tiny claws of magic were torn from my skin, and Clayton’s magic rolled back several inches. It wasn’t much of a gap, but it gave me breathing space. I pushed through his spell and stepped into the house.
Clayton stood in the middle of the large living room, looking very much the utter gentleman in his expensive black suit and shiny shoes. Only his eyes gave the game away—the savage had well and truly risen. “Your magic is stronger than expected—what an absolute delight.”
The last thing I ever wanted was to delight him in any way. “Where’s Belle?”
He motioned to his left. “Here, awaiting your arrival, as promised.”
I scanned the space between us. I couldn’t see any sort of snare—magical or otherwise—but the confident amusement in his expression had every inner alarm going off.
I stepped to the side rather than into the room and finally saw her. There was duct tape
