Hot Magic (36 page)

“Ashakarin.” Julie spit the word and tried to run to Harry’s side. Her mother held on to the back of her dress, stopping her.

Ashakarin stepped back out of Harry’s reach and lowered his head in a courtly gesture, seeming to notice her for the first time. “Spawn of Satan,” he greeted Julie solemnly.
 

“My father is not Satan!” She turned to her mom and lowered her voice. “Is he?”

“I have no idea,” Jean whispered back.

Harry darted in and backward again, scoring Ashakarin across his massive thigh.

 
“Go, Harry!” Julie jumped up and down, not easy in the red shoes, and made a megaphone out of her hands. “Slice him, dice him, don’t be nice ta him!”

“Thank God you didn’t make the cheerleading squad in high school,” her mother commented.

Julie frowned as Ashakarin pushed Harry back with a series of feints. The crowd cheered wildly, obviously not rooting for the underdog. “He’s never going to win. Ashakarin has a longer reach and doesn’t look tired at all. What can I do?”

“Besides distracting Ashakarin with your cheers? Nothing. Ashakarin is too big and too strong.”

“Mom!” Julie glared at her. “What if Erin Brockovich had believed that California power company was too big and too strong to go after?”

“Julia Roberts wouldn’t have gotten an Oscar?”

Julie didn’t bother responding to that. Everyone knew Julia Roberts would have eventually gotten an Oscar for something. Instead she began patting her dress, wishing for pockets. “I should have brought a weapon.”

“Only things of power exist on this plane. Even if you had a gun on you in Harrison’s office, it wouldn’t be with you here. You’re not really here. Just your essence, your soul, is.”

A gasp from the crowd focused her attention back on Harrison. “Ashakarin got Harry’s other arm. He’s bleeding pretty profusely. Enough of this. I bonded with Harry so we could join power and defeat Ashakarin together and here I am, standing on the sidelines. I need a sword.”

“You’re going to fight for Harry?”

“Hellooo—I did the whole blood thing. Of course I’m going to fight for him.”

“You never fought for Jack,” Her mother pointed out.

“Jack wasn’t fighting a demon.”

“Wasn’t he?”

“No. He wasn’t fighting anything. Except me.” She paused. “Oh. That means he was fighting a demon. This is getting way too complicated. Leave Jack out of this. He’s not important.”

“He never was. That was always the problem.”

There was a kernel of truth there. Maybe part of the reason Jack left was because she hadn’t cared enough to fight for him. He’d been fun and exciting, sort of like a Cosmo on girl’s night out—not the sustaining milk of everyday life. But, however startling this sudden insight was, she didn’t have time to mull it over right now.

Because she did care enough to fight for Harry.

“Julie. Leave!” Harrison bellowed the words as he retreated yet again. His bloody arm moved with lightning swiftness, blocking the immortal’s ceaseless attack.

“I can’t. I love you.”

Ashakarin laughed, which gave Harry an opening. He punched a shallow thrust into Ashakarin’s chest, pulling back quickly to avoid the giant’s roaring counter-attack.

Harry glanced at her as his sword flashed. “And you’re telling me this now because?”

She didn’t want to say she felt the need to tell him her true feelings before he died. Somehow that didn’t sound supportive and positive. “I thought it might motivate you to fight harder.”

Ashakarin’s sword narrowly missed his left ear. He leaned back with amazing dexterity. “Ah. I was lacking motivation. Thank you.”

This time Harrison managed to cut a thin line across Ashakarin’s cheek. Ashakarin didn’t even blink. Which reminded Julie of one undeniable fact. Harrison was not going to win this battle by killing Ashakarin. Immortals don’t die. Ashakarin was merely waiting for Harry to tire.
 

And Harry would tire. Already sweat glistened on his muscles, and his lungs heaved, trying to take in more oxygen.

“You can’t stop a storm, but you can sure shut a window so it doesn’t get into the house.” Jean murmured the words she’d said during each thunderstorm that Julie could remember as a child.

Huh? The fake sky was a bright, cerulean blue. Julie frowned at her mother, wondering what she was talking about. Her mother looked pointedly at Ashakarin and comprehension dawned. This storm was Ashakarin, the window, Marguerite. Marguerite was the conduit Ashakarin needed to reach out to Harrison from Lobolo. If Julie could close that conduit, remove Marguerite from Harrison’s mind, Harrison would be safe.

“Where is she?” Julie scanned the packed stands. Finding Marguerite in this crowd would be impossible.

“I taught you to use your mind better than this,” Jean said, exasperated.

“No, you didn’t. You put me in front of the television set whenever you wanted to read a book or talk on the phone with friends.” Julie’s eyes moved restlessly over the sea of faces, though part of her attention was riveted on the sword fight happening beside her.

“You get that smart-mouth from your father. And I made sure it was public television.”

Ashakarin was using Marguerite to access Harrison. It made sense that she’d be close to him. Julie stopped looking in the stands and instead focused on the arena floor. She’d thought it deserted except for the four of them. Now she saw that there were several areas of deep shadow along the edges of the stands. “Mom, yell if Harrison needs me. I’m going to hunt for Marguerite.”

“Julie, I can’t do that. I’m not really a separate person. Where you go, I go.”

Julie stared at her, frustrated. “This is so blasted bizarre. Okay, I’m going to find Marguerite as quickly as I can.” She looked at Harry who appeared to be holding his own for the moment. “I’ll be right back!”
 

Harry and Ashakarin didn’t pause in their grim assault on each other. She watched for a moment, then gave a little hop and put one hand on her waist. The other she fisted and pumped into the air above her head. “Fight, fight, fight! With all your might, might, might. Harry! Go, fight, win!”
 

Harry ignored her, but Ashakarin stumbled, his eyes widening at her antics. Harry took advantage of the fact his opponent was off-balance and disarmed him with a mighty upswing of his sword. Ashakarin’s sword went flying in the air and landed at Julie’s feet.

She grabbed it, amazed she couldn’t lift it. She needed to work out more. Tugging at the hilt with both hands, she dragged it across the sand, trying to get it out of Ashakarin’s reach. Ashakarin laughed at her and pulled another sword out of thin air.

She could really hate this whole magic, energy-wielding, immortal thing.

Not letting go of the sword, she reached the side of the arena and began scanning the shadows. There, curled in a small huddle, sat Marguerite.

Julie pulled the sword over to her and collapsed on the ground beside her, breathing hard. “Marguerite. You can’t let Ashakarin destroy Harry.”

Marguerite raised her head from her knees. Julie gasped. She looked ravaged and hollowed out, twenty years older than the last time Julie had seen her. “This wasn’t supposed to happen. I just wanted to free my grand-mère.”

“Stop Ashakarin, Marguerite.”

“I can’t!” Both hands pulled at her hair as if it hurt her and she wanted it off her head.

“What do you mean, you can’t? You got in here. Get out the same way. Reverse the curse or use a counter-curse or something”

“This is the first curse I’ve ever attempted. I don’t know how to reverse it,” Marguerite admitted.

“Of all the stupid—” Julie stopped. Name calling wouldn’t help. “You’re an idiot.” Okay, it helped a little. Julie had absolutely no sympathy for this woman, even though channeling a demon looked like it did pretty nasty things to a person.
 

Julie took a deep breath and stood. With a huge effort, she lifted the sword over her head. “You’re not really here, so if I put this sword in you, maybe it will force your spirit to seek your body and you’ll leave.”

“And maybe you will sever her soul from her body forever and leave her in some sort of limbo,” her mother piped up from behind her.

“Are you my conscience, Mom?”

“Yes,” Jean said simply. “Ask Freud. I was very instrumental in the development of your super-ego.”

Julie lowered the sword. “Great. Is Freud somewhere around here, too? Harry’s going to have a major headache when this is all over.”

“I meant that rhetorically.”

“I don’t have time for rhetorical. If I can’t do the sword thing, how do I get Marguerite out of Harrison’s head?”

“Push her out.”

“Excuse me?”

“You can gather energy from light and earth, probably from wherever immortals get power too. Gather power and push her out.”

A loud cheer broke out from the crowd. Julie swung around to see Harrison on his knees, parrying Ashakarin’s powerful blows with straining muscles. Determination flowed through every line of his body. Sweat glistened on his chest, and she could see his thigh muscles bunch as he fought unsuccessfully to rise to his feet.

Without thought, without a plan, Julie tightened her grip on Ashakarin’s sword and ran toward Harry. She lifted the sword as if she’d morphed into Wonder Woman and met Ashakarin’s downward swing with the block of her own blade. The impact of the hit bruised every muscle of her body, down to her toes. Harry surged to his feet and stood at her shoulder, sword raised, ready.

“Get behind me,” he ordered.

“I just saved you,” Julie protested, not sure she could move to get behind him.

His eyes never left Ashakarin. “Thank you. Get behind me. Now.”

 
Ashakarin roared. He didn’t look happy at all. As if in slow motion, he swung his sword to the side and began a low arc that would probably lop both of their torsos from their waists. Harry pushed her flat down against the sand with one strong arm and stepped toward Ashakarin, his sword extended in his other hand.

Julie panicked and mentally reached out. She grabbed every energy source she could find—earth energy, light energy and energy she didn’t even recognize. She directed it all toward Marguerite in a mighty effort to push her out of Harry’s head and break the curse.

A howl echoed around the arena as Ashakarin recognized her purpose.

“Please, Marguerite. Help me break the curse. Release Harrison.”
 

Unbelievably, she felt the window allowing Ashakarin access to Harrison begin to close. Marguerite added her will to Julie’s.
 

Too late. A triumphant laugh filled her ears as Ashakarin’s sword finished its mighty swing and bit into the skin covering Harry’s rib cage.

“No!” With a last panicked push, Julie felt the bonds of the curse shatter. Marguerite flew from Harrison’s mind, sucking Ashakarin with her like a vacuum.
 

Unexpectedly, Julie followed. Her last look at Harry was of him lying on the dirt of the arena floor, blood spilling into the sand.

Chapter Twenty

J
ulie’s physical senses came back slowly. First were the smells—warm cotton, sweat and Harry. Then came the pain, as if every muscle and ligament in her body had been pulled, twisted and hung out to dry. Finally, she became aware of her torso and limbs, splayed like a limp jellyfish across Harrison’s chest. She bumped up slightly as he breathed and started to roll to the side. Hard arms came around her and held her fast against him.
 

He was alive. Thank you, thank you,
thank you
, God.
 

“Are you okay?” Her voice sounded funny, distant.

“I don’t know,” he spoke slowly.

She struggled to sit up, but his arms wouldn’t let her go. “Are you bleeding? Ashakarin, the sword….”

“No. That wasn’t our physical bodies. They were here in this room. If Ashakarin had succeeded, he wouldn’t have killed me, he would have had my soul.” Serious, golden eyes met hers. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” When his gaze didn’t waver, she licked suddenly dry lips. “Do you remember everything?”
 

His brow furrowed. “If I forgot something I wouldn’t know it.”
 

She almost smiled at his response—pure Harry—but her stomach was too upset. She buried her head against his chest. “We did the blood thing.” She said it quickly, before she lost her nerve.

“I know.”

He didn’t sound angry. He didn’t sound happy. He didn’t sound anything she could identify. He had a poker voice.
 

She lifted her head again to look at his face. No help there.

“Pretty funny, huh?” She tried for a jocular tone.

He didn’t smile. “Which part, bonding with me or banishing an evil demon and saving my soul?”
 

She cleared her throat. “I meant funny in a sort of ironic big picture way. First you wanted to have sex, then you didn’t because you didn’t want to bond with me, then we bonded while you were unconscious and now we can have sex.”