Page 75 of Shadows of the Soul

I pulled a key from the top drawer of my desk and continued through my office and examination room. Opening the outside door, I led them around the outside and then down into the vaults.

The doc looked up from his paperback and ran his gaze over the newcomers. “How are the boys?” I asked as I led the spell casters to an iron vault.

The doc glanced at the cubs who were currently curled up and sleeping in the far corner. “They’ve tired themselves out for now. It’s a cycle, two to three hours of crazy snarling, followed by an hour of sleep. It’s not healthy.”

“We are tackling this one fire at a time,” I said. A twinge of guilt pulled at my heart that I was putting my aunt ahead of the cubs and their trapped animal status. They’d live to see tomorrow. My aunt might not if we allowed the possession to continue. It was less one fire at a time, and more one huge inferno we were battling for control.

“I’m not even going to ask why you have two cubs imprisoned under your house and are entertaining the pack’s chief medical officer,” Rockhard mumbled.

“Good plan,” I responded.

“An Austin fan,” Lenson said, tilting his head to read the cover of the doc’s book. “Are you a Mr. Darcy or Miss Bennet admirer?” Translation, which side do you bat for?

The doc arched a silver brow and glanced at me. “‘There is a stubbornness about me that never can bear to be frightened at the will of others. My courage always rises at every attempt to intimidate me.’”

I folded my arms. So, news of mine and Hudson’s demise had reached his ears and he was treating me to some advice via the infamous Elizabeth Bennet. Well, two could play that game. “‘I am only resolved to act in that manner, which will, in my own opinion, constitute my happiness, without reference to you, or to any person so wholly unconnected with me.’”

The doc’s lip twitched, and he tipped his head. “Touché. But for the record, I think you are matched in sheer stubbornness. One of you will need to concede.”

“There’s no battle here, doc. I will not fight for a man who puts political wrangling’s above me. When I give my heart, I will pull out all the stops. I will come in like a hurricane and lay waste to anyone who threatens him, but I expect the same in return.”

“That’s fair.”

“That’s right, girl, you have your standards, ones the cat hasn’t measured up to,” Rockhard said with a snap of his fingers. I ignored the pang in my heart that said I wouldn’t ever find anyone else like Hudson. It was a niggling doubt in my resolve that I quashed. I couldn’t risk my heart to anyone who wouldn’t give me theirs. Being with me meant holding many secrets. Secrets which could destroy me. No, it was better this way.

I unlocked the vault, it registered my unique magical signature and the bolts unclicked. I spun the dial in a specific direction, to an exact number of degrees. If I did this wrong, it would open but show a false, empty vault, a failsafe for if I was being forced to open it. The final lock clicked, and the door creaked open. Out of the corner of my eye I saw the doc lean back on his chair to look inside.

“Come look, doc, you’ve earned it,” I said as I entered the room. Rockhard and Lenson hovered at my back as I entered.

“Don’t touch anything,” Rockhard advised the doc.

“Why?”

“There are things in here that would stop your heart,” Lenson said.

“Make you blind,” Rockhard continued.

“Summon your dead enemies,” I said, pointing at a foot-high Greek vase. My gaze roamed over the many artifacts I’d collected over the years for times such as these. Elementals didn’t deal in money. Our powers rarely left us short. The currency we traded was magical objects, and Lenson had a particular weakness for swords. The rarer the better.

I selected the long, thin metal case and carried it over to a table in the center of the vault. Lenson and Rockhard drifted closer with wide, curious eyes as I unclipped the case and pried it open. The purple velvet lining supported a long sword. “Fragarach,” I declared. Lenson gasped. I smirked - gotya. “A sword forged by the gods, meant to be wielded with the stone of destiny.” Which I also possessed, but I wasn’t showing all my cards yet. “Also known as the–”

“Whisperer,” Lenson breathed as he hovered a hand over the blade. It was a beauty, with an unusual bulb-style handle and Celtic symbols etched down the center of the blade.

“It also does this.” I pressed my hand to the handle and the electric blue light ignited from the handle down the blade. The symbols glowed with power.

“Ooh,” Rockhard said.

The doc tilted his head and pressed his lips together, clearly not impressed by a shiny sword.

Lenson swallowed and darted a look to Rockhard, who folded his arms and gave me a thousand-yard stare. Here it comes. “Where’s the stone?” Rockhard asked.

I stood straight and rewarded him with the Roberts’ hardass gaze. “This is enough for the exorcism.”

Lenson swung his gaze between us and worried his lip.

“You have the stone?” Rockhard asked.

I inclined my head. “I do.”