Mind Over Magic by Lindsay Buroker

25

The wolf chargingin must have broken Calista’s spell, for Morgen found she could move without tricking her mind into loops. She turned toward the open garage door, but Calista blocked the way. Her eyes lit not with alarm but with triumph as the wolf raced across the garage.

It headed straight toward Morgen, saliva gleaming on its fangs.

Morgen wanted to punch the triumphant expression from Calista’s face, but there wasn’t time. She spun and dove under the gyrocopter, her knee cracking on one of the landing skids.

Maybe she should have dived into the vehicle, but it didn’t have an enclosed cockpit. The wolf lunged for her legs. Morgen yanked them fully under the contraption as jaws snapped inches from her shoes.

“Drag her out,” Calista ordered.

Morgen glanced out the other side as she debated whether to stay under the gyrocopter or try to crawl out and sprint away. But sprint where? The ways to the garage door and the corridor were blocked, so the only place she could run was back into that shaft, and the hatch that had dropped ensured she couldn’t escape that way either.

Where was Amar? Did this wolf’s presence mean he was dead?

The gray wolf lunged under the gyrocopter, snapping for her leg again. Morgen jerked it away and kicked at its face. It dodged, too fast for her meager human speed, and she knew it would succeed in grabbing her and dragging her out.

But before those fangs bit into her leg, a snarl came from the corridor.

Another wolf charged in, an even bigger one. Amar? All she could see were legs.

With her attacker distracted, Morgen pulled herself out on the far side of the gyrocopter. She gripped her amulet, wishing she knew more useful things to do with it and the witch blood that supposedly flowed through her veins.

The second wolf smashed into the first, knocking it to the ground as jaws snapped. The growls and snarls were so loud and fierce that it sounded like an entire pack had rushed into the garage.

Morgen scrambled to her feet, keeping the gyrocopter between her and the wolves—and the witch. Calista was waving her wand about, focusing on the wolves—no, on Amar. The patterns in his black and gray fur were distinctive.

He was larger than his foe, and it seemed he should have the advantage, but Calista drew what looked like sparkling silver sand from her pocket and flung it at them. Maybe she bought hexing powder after all.

The wolves rolled sideways, jaws sinking into each other’s shoulders as they tried but didn’t quite reach throats. As they thrashed about, they almost knocked Calista down. She stumbled as she skittered back, and the gun flew from her hand. It skidded across the cement and disappeared under a workbench.

A part of Morgen wanted to take the opportunity to flee, to get out of there, but she couldn’t leave Amar. Not when Calista was targeting him.

Since her incantations had been useless, Morgen settled for a non-witchy method of dealing with problems. She ran around the gyrocopter, bypassing the snarling and biting wolves, and launched herself at Calista.

The woman saw her coming and jerked the wand toward her but not quickly enough. Morgen crashed into her, grabbing her around the waist and bearing her to the ground. She snatched the end of the wand and tried to tear it free. But even discombobulated, Calista wouldn’t release it.

They each gripped one end, playing tug-of-war with the wand as Morgen tried to maneuver on top of Calista to keep her from rising. The woman’s dress was bunched around her thighs, but that didn’t keep her from kicking and thrashing like a trapped honey badger.

A canine cry of pain came from behind them. Morgen couldn’t tell if it belonged to Amar or the other wolf, but out of the corner of her eye, she glimpsed blood spurting from a severed artery. It spattered on the gray cement floor as if flung by a macabre paintbrush.

Fear for Amar slammed into Morgen’s heart, and she pulled on the wand as hard as she could. Finally, it slipped in Calista’s grasp. Just as Morgen thought she would wrest it away, Calista shifted under her and jerked her knee up. It struck Morgen in the abdomen, and she almost lost her grip on the wand.

The witch started chanting the control incantation again.

Cursing, Morgen pinned her to the ground and clamped her hand over Calista’s mouth. Afraid that wouldn’t be enough to stop the spell, Morgen slammed her forehead down on the woman’s nose.

Cartilage crunched, and Calista cried out, but she’d gotten out the last word of the now-familiar incantation.

Morgen braced herself, fearing that her body would once again betray her, that it would obey Calista instead of her own desires. But maybe she’d disrupted the incantation after all, for nothing happened to her.

A hand gripped her shoulder, yanking her backward so hard that she flew away from Calista, landed on her back, and skidded across the cement floor. She bumped something furry. Amar?

No, it was the other wolf. The big gray lay still, his life’s blood pouring from the severed artery.

Amar had changed back into his human form, his clothing abandoned who knew where, and he strode toward Morgen. His muscles were bunched, his fingers ready to grab her. Grab her and tear her limb from limb. She realized in an instant who’d thrown her. Amar was under Calista’s control.

Morgen rolled away from him and scrambled to her feet, though she knew she couldn’t outrun him. She half-expected him to reach her and grab her throat before she could take a step, but he didn’t lunge quickly after her. He walked after her, inexorable, powerful, and determined, but not fast.

She sprinted around the gyrocopter, glancing for something to use to deter him. If she ran out the garage door, would he break into a run?

“Faster,” Calista urged. “Get her. Kill her.”

Amar strode around the gyrocopter. For a second, it looked like he would switch to a sprint, but his eyes were full of conflict and emotion. He didn’t want to do this, didn’t want to be a witch’s pawn again. He was fighting her.

His face contorted from the effort, the veins in his neck standing out. His stride faltered, and he almost managed to spring over the gyrocopter toward Calista, but she pointed her wand at him, and he jerked and turned back toward Morgen.

Morgen gripped her amulet as she backed farther away. Maybe her control incantation would override Calista’s. Since Amar was fighting hers already, maybe it would be enough.

Unless he resented Morgen trying to do the same thing Calista was doing and fought her just as hard…

She had to try. She had no choice.

“Under the moon’s magic, turn the snarling hound from angry foe to witch bound,” Morgen whispered, staring intently into Amar’s blue eyes, hoping he understood. She didn’t want to control him, simply wrest him from Calista’s control.

His face didn’t twist with rage or indignation. He seemed to understand what she was trying to do, but she couldn’t tell if her incantation had made a difference. Amar kept striding toward her, unable to break Calista’s control.

But something disturbed Calista. She frowned intensely at them, pointed her wand at Amar, and repeated her control incantation.

Morgen repeated hers, saying it loudly this time, not whispering. She had no idea if volume mattered with spells, but she would try everything she could.

Amar’s movements grew jerky. He kept coming, but it was as if he were walking through molasses. He mumbled under his breath as he lifted his hands to reach for Morgen.

“Fight it,” she whispered after another recitation of the incantation. “Don’t let another witch turn you into a criminal. Not again.”

“Must protect… protect you,” Amar said, his fingers shaking.

Morgen took another step back, but her heel clunked against the wall. She’d been so focused on the incantation that she’d let herself be backed into a corner. She crouched, ready to try to charge past him if she had to, but he halted three feet away.

Calista shouted another incantation. Amar froze.

“Get her, Amar,” Morgen whispered. “She’s the one who made the bone clip and sabotaged my grandmother’s motorcycle. Because she didn’t want anything to interrupt her being able to steal that damn moss from the property.”

Amar snarled, like the wolf he’d been a minute earlier, and launched himself. Not at Morgen but at Calista.

She shrieked, the high-pitched noise echoing from the cement walls and flowing out into the night.

Amar leaped over the gyrocopter and barreled into her. She tumbled backward, her wand finally flying from her grip. It clattered across the cement floor.

Morgen lunged after it. What she would do with it, she didn’t know, but she had to keep Calista from getting it back.

The woman shouted something incomprehensible. Morgen wrapped her fingers around the wand an instant before an explosive went off.

The ground shook, and a shockwave threw Morgen backward as smoke filled the garage. A thunderous wrenching crunch sounded as the gyrocopter tipped over. A male yelp of pain came from the other side of the garage as Amar slammed into a wall.

Morgen skidded across the floor for the second time that night. Somehow, she managed to retain a hold on the wand. She stared blearily into the smoke, ready to chant the control incantation again.

But the garage fell silent, neither Amar nor Calista making a sound. If the other wolf was still alive, he also wasn’t making any noise.

Morgen pushed herself to her feet. A hint of damp misty air wafted in, stirring the smoke. It cleared slowly, revealing Amar standing naked in the doorway of the garage, peering out into the night.

Morgen glanced warily at the downed wolf, decided it was dead, and looked for Calista. She had a feeling the witch had gotten away. Amar wouldn’t be looking off into the yard if she hadn’t.

As Morgen walked over to join him, a distant siren wail reached her ears. Had Franklin already been on the way back with reinforcements? That explosion couldn’t have been reported so quickly.

“She got away?” Morgen asked, though she already knew.

“Yes.”

“Was that werewolf—I assume it’s a werewolf?—controlled by her?”

“Yes. I believe they were also lovers, so it might not have taken much magic, but…” Amar shrugged. “We were too busy fighting for me to get the details.”

“Oh.” Morgen didn’t know what else to say.

Amar glanced toward the front of the house. “We need to go. Our presence here will be difficult to explain.” He gazed back at the dead wolf on the floor. “And I am a wanted man.” His expression grew forlorn and wistful but only for a moment before he looked at Morgen. “But only for one murder.”

“Yeah, I’m pleased it wasn’t two.”

It almost had been, and they both knew it.

“As am I,” Amar said softly, holding her gaze.

If he resented her for having used that incantation on him, he didn’t show it. His eyes were almost gentle. Or maybe just sad.

Morgen groped for something heartening to say, wanting to offer him hope that they could figure out a way to clear his name, or at least make the sheriff’s department understand that a witch had been responsible for the agent’s death, but Morgen didn’t even know where she stood with the law after sneaking out of Franklin’s SUV and running away from him.

The sirens grew louder along with the sound of multiple vehicles roaring toward the gated property.

“I can’t let them catch me. This way.” Amar jogged into the yard, still naked, and headed toward the back wall.

Morgen diverted long enough to grab her books and staff. A shame she’d dragged them all the way here and hadn’t gotten to use them—pronging Calista with antlers would have been satisfying. But climbing down that shaft with the weapon would have been awkward if not impossible.

Morgen caught up to Amar at the hole he’d dug under the wall.

“You’re coming back to the house with me, right?” she asked.

What if he disappeared forever? She’d barely gotten to know him, and she felt like she owed him for what had happened. Even if this wasn’t her world, everything revolved around her grandmother’s property, and since she’d shown up, he’d had his belongings burned, his work destroyed, and now, he was a wanted man and couldn’t show his face in Bellrock again.

“I promised to make you breakfast, remember?” she added.

Amar was slithering on his belly through the dirt hole and didn’t reply. Maybe he hadn’t heard her.

She dropped to her knees to hurry after him, afraid he would take off as soon as he reached the other side. If the deputies started searching the woods around the property right away, he would have to.

The staff wouldn’t fit, so she had to throw it over the wall. Yellow light flashed around it, and the air sizzled as if it had sailed into a bug zapper. She winced, remembering Amar’s admonition about magical security and dead birds, but the staff continued on its trajectory. Maybe the magic couldn’t harm inanimate objects.

She squeezed through the hole, scraping her hips and clunking her head on the stone wall above.

“I remember.” Amar helped her out and handed her the staff. Fortunately, it wasn’t noticeably charred or damaged in any way.

“And you agreed that it was scintillating and couldn’t wait to eat it, right?” She gripped his arm as she stood, reluctant to release him, lest he take off.

“I’ll return to the house with you tonight.”

“And tomorrow?”

Car doors slammed and shouts echoed through the woods as the authorities jumped out.

“We’ll see,” Amar said quietly.