It also serves to tell Mathias exactly where I’m weak. But I already know: Sabelle. Mathias has the advantage of superior age, experience, and evil. But I’m bigger and more determined. If I can be smarter as well, that might tip the scale of this battle in my favor.
I take one deep breath, then another, swallowing my anger and internalizing it. The force of it wends through my body, down my arms and legs, into my fingers and toes.
“I’m all right,” I tell Sabelle.
She studies me, checking my expression. With a nod, she drops her hand and steps away. Has she sensed my deadly calm?
“Are we ready, gentlemen?” Blackbourne calls across the lawn, the wind carrying his voice.
As if he was hosting a bloody croquet match. Resisting the urge to curse, I nod.
“Quite,” Mathias drawls.
Blackbourne directs us to the challenge ring and its force field. With a wave of his hand, an arch appears. The elder motions us through it. With a jaunty step, Mathias breezes by, turning to examine the clear structure from all directions. When he catches Sabelle’s gaze, he waves with a smile so sinister, she steps back. Mathias merely laughs.
“Pretty thing,” Mathias says to me, still staring at Sabelle. “After you’re dead, I wonder how she’ll feel underneath me. I do hope she’s a screamer.”
Chapter
Thirty-Eight
I tamp down my fresh fury. Mathias is still goading me. He can see my magical signature, knows I Called to Sabelle. Despite being a monster, he understands perfectly well how protective a wizard is of any female he considers his mate, whether she answers in kind or not. I force myself not to rise to Mathias’s bait.
Camden waves an arm, and around the clear structure, plush chairs appear. Three on the east side, which he, Blackbourne, and Spencer each occupy, and four on the west, which Bram, Tynan, Sterling, and Sabelle take.
“Before we start, let’s review the few applicable rules,” Blackbourne says. “The first, if anyone should wish to forfeit or withdraw their name from consideration, the challenge ends immediately. Any other spells cast by either nominee will be considered an act of aggression and treated accordingly. Also, should you believe that you have killed your opponent, you must signal me and pause the fight. I will establish the veracity of your claim. While I’m doing so, any spells cast will be treated as an act of aggression, as well. If you are still fighting in four hours, you will be granted a rest period, during which you may reacquire power by any means at your disposal. I see Mr. Rykard has brought Miss Rion. Mr. d’Arc?”
“The fight won’t last that long, Carlisle,” Mathias drawls. “If it does, Rhea awaits me upstairs.”
The witch who placed the tracking spell on the Doomsday Diary?
Blackbourne nods. “The rest period is fifteen minutes.”
“Duly noted.” Mathias nods with the utmost civility.
Blackbourne continues. “Should the fight extend for another four hours, we will take a mandatory rest period for food and sleep. There is no limit to the sort or number of spells you may cast, except that the release of any corporeal form you create must be contained within your challenge zone. It cannot move outside or above these walls. No one can leave these grounds for any reason until the fight is over. I’ve locked them down; teleporting is impossible. We will assume that any combatant who attempts such intends to cheat and will forfeit the challenge by default. Last, we will declare a winner once someone forfeits or dies. Any questions?”
No one moves or speaks. I hear only the revving of my heart as I study Sabelle, who represents all I have to live for. Then I drag my gaze to Mathias, who stands for all the evil I’m determined to vanquish.
“Ready?” the Council elder asks.
I simply nod. It’s time.
Sabelle
Blackbourne signals, and the combatants on either side of the challenge ring drop into a ready stance. Both have stripped down to the waist, oblivious to the December chill. Ice rolls his shoulders, every muscle rippling with repressed action as he clutches his new wand. He wants this fight.
My fear for him is so thick, I want to vomit.
Lean as a whip, Mathias waits, looking as if he doesn’t have a care in the world.
God, if I had known when I suggested Ice for this Council post that it would place him in grave danger, I would never have mentioned his name.
“Stop blaming yourself,” Bram whispers beside me.
“Who else can I blame?”
“Ice could have declined. But he wants this…and perhaps I drove him to it. He’s long sought revenge against Mathias after Gailene’s murder. When it first happened, I stopped him, you know. He was too young to fight Mathias.” My brother sighs in seeming regret. “In my attempt to protect him, I only made him more desperate.”
