Black Magic Sanction

Ten

I couldn't breathe. My lungs were starving for air, burning, but I couldn't make them expand. Stuck halfway between the memory and now, I hung, able to think, but not to do.

"Rachel!" Ivy shouted, and I felt a stinging smack across my cheek. "Wake up!"

Jenks's pixy wings clattered close, and his draft cooled my burning cheek. "Knock it off!" he exclaimed. "Hitting her isn't doing any good!"

Panic iced through me, but I couldn't move, paralyzed and ru

"You let her invoke a deadly charm?" I heard Pierce say, his voice close.

"It wasn't supposed to be deadly!" Ivy snarled back. "It had already passed the lethal-amulet test. Something went wrong!"

"Kalamack crafted it? I opine that's what's wrong. He's just like his father. Sloppy."

"Look!" Jenks said. "It's still in her hands. Right there!"

My heart thudded, hurting for air; I felt shaking hands turn me over. Fingers wedged among mine, and pain shot through me. A moan I couldn't afford slipped past me.

"You're hurting her!" Nick exclaimed, completing the travesty.

"Better that than she suffocates," Ivy said. Then softer, she said, "I'm sorry, Rachel."

I clenched into myself, my head bursting in pain. Oh God. I was dying. I was going to die from a frigging elf charm. Break my fingers. Anything! The sharp tug on my fingers was a stab of agony, but I didn't think she broke anything as the smooth horsehair slipped from me.

Nick's voice was close and worried. "She's still not breathing."

"Tell us something we don't know, crap-for-brains!" Jenks exclaimed.

"Smack her again!" the thief said.

My hearing was going fuzzy, and the pain of the curse's imbalance was lost in the agony of suffocation. I couldn't think, but I felt the bed dip, and arms smelling of coal dust wrapped around me as my head thumped into a masculine chest. "Forgive me, mistress witch," I heard, and then a line burned through me.

I gasped, the involuntary reaction bringing a slip of air into me. It smelled like a meadow in the sun. Nausea rose and my heart gave a weak pound, but I still couldn't breathe. Somehow I managed to open my eyes. Pierce was holding me, Ivy standing helplessly, her eyes black and beautiful. "Do something!" Jenks shouted as he hovered close, and my eyes slipped shut.

"I am doing something," Pierce panted. "She took a breath." Smooth fingers turned my chin, and I heard Ivy say, "Trent cursed her?"

"I'm going to kill him. I'm go

"It's not a curse. It's a misaligned spell. I'm going to try to burn it out," Pierce said.

I jerked again as a stronger pulse of line energy lighted through me. Almost, I got a second breath, but it wasn't enough, and my heart pounded, starved for air. I wasn't going to make it. Trent had won. Son of a bitch.

"She's turning blue," Nick said, whispering. "Do something. "

"Rachel!" Jenks shouted. "You stupid witch! What have you done!"

Pierce was shaking. "My God, how much line can you hold, mistress witch?"

"She can spindle it," Ivy said. "Give her everything you can handle, and then some."

It was as if light sparked through me. Pierce dove through my soul, reaching for a line through me and pulling it into himself. Gasping, my back arched and my eyes opened wide.

"You're killing her!" Jenks shouted, and I fell back into Pierce.

My arms moved, and my lungs expanded. Gulping the air so hard it hurt, I coughed.

"Catch them!" Jenks exclaimed, and my eyes flashed open as Ivy darted forward to catch Pierce and hold us both upright. His arms were still wrapped around me, and his head was beside mine. He was panting, lips parted and brow furrowed in pain. His breath came fast, and I could feel it on me, coming and going.

"I swan," he breathed. "You can hold a considerable amount of line, Rachel."

I shifted, and his eyes opened, finding mine. Something pinged through me again, painful in its exquisiteness. I recognized it, even as I tried to deny its existence. And I smiled, weak as a kitten as I rested in his arms. "Hi," I whispered so I wouldn't start coughing, concentrating on small, even breaths.

"Hi back at you," he said, the modern phrase sounding fu

"Rache, are you okay?" the pixy demanded. "Was it a curse? Trent tried to kill you?"

"Looks like it," I said, vowing to jam a curry brush down his throat the next time I saw him.

Jenks started swearing in one-word syllables. My thankful gaze went to Pierce. Damn, the man could hold a lot of energy. Maybe as much as me with a little stretching. And he was holding me. On my bed.

My expression became empty. I didn't have time for this, and it hurt too much when it was over. "Phone," I rasped, trying to untangle myself. The bed shifted as Ivy got off it, and the cooler air hit me when Pierce let go and moved to stand awkwardly beside me. "Where's my phone?" I asked, then remembered it was in San Francisco.

Nick's eyes were wide, and Jenks was spilling a red dust, but Ivy seemed to be thinking the same thing I was, and she handed me her cell. "Use mine."

"Tink's titties!" Jenks was saying, darting up and down, making me nauseous. "Rache, you're not calling him, are you?"

"Watch me." My fingers trembled as I punched in the numbers. I was so pissed. How dare he. How dare he give me a charm and try to kill me with it. Was this his backhanded way of threatening me? Do what he wanted or else? He hadn't changed at all from the brat of a boy demanding I hold his horse's head when there was a post only two feet away.

"Don't call him! He'll know it didn't work!" Jenks shouted, and I waved him back. The pixy's wings clattered noisily, but then went quiet. "You know his number by heart?"

Yes, I had Trent Kalamack's number memorized. Sort of like when you remember the name of the kid who beat you up in the third grade. Some things you don't forget.

"Quiet. I want to hear," Ivy demanded as the phone rang, and my anger tightened when Jenks landed on my shoulder. Together we listened to the line click open.

"Kalamack Industries," the woman said, but I couldn't tell if it was Sara Jane or if she'd gotten smart and run away. "How may I help you?"

A thousand smart-ass answers went through my head, but my eyes on Ivy's, I managed, "This is Rachel Morgan—"

"Yes, Ms. Morgan," she interrupted. "Mr. Kalamack has been waiting for your call."

"I'll bet," I said, but she'd already put me on hold. If there was elevator music, I was going to scream.

"Rachel!" Trent's voice came clear and clean, a hint of warmth to it that slid out of the professional into genuine pleasure.

"You son of a bastard!" I exclaimed, and Jenks snorted.

There was a slight hesitation, then, "I take it this isn't a social call?" Trent said dryly, his entire mood shifting.

How could he sit there like nothing had happened? "It didn't work, you bastard. I'm still alive, and you'd better start watching your back. I should have let you rot in the ever-after, you son of a bitch!"

"Still alive?"

I'd give him one thing. He hid his smugness well. "The Pandora charm?" I supplied to jiggle his conveniently faulty memory. "It was us riding your horse at camp. You're scum, Trent!"

"I didn't try to kill you. You fell off!" he said indignantly.

He thought I was talking about the memory? "Not the horse!" I said, suddenly unsure. "Your spell! It almost killed me. The memory ended with me lying on the ground with the breath knocked out of me, and it froze everything. I couldn't breathe when the charm ended. I could have died! If you can't have me, no one will, huh? What in hell is wrong with you!"