Chapter 677: Charlotte's Liberation
I leaped from the flare of blue magic, out of Finlay's reach, storming down the massive central aisle of the chapel. Um, church. Yikes. Cathedral? The place was massive, just past the outer edge of the palace grounds, full of stained glass depicting religious scenes. But I didn't have time to admire the artwork.
Not while Charlotte knelt at Yure Danko's feet with him smirking down on her.
"Get away from her!" My roar echoed through the place, my demon backing my rage, Shaylee shaking the ground, the pressure of our collective anger shattering some of what was probably priceless glass.
Boo freaking hoo.
I was so tightly in tune with Charlotte I almost missed the sight of Raoul and Oleksander, groveling at Vasyl's side. The Czar's second in command watched my approach with cool calculation while I jabbed my finger at him.
"Go tell Liander Belaisle I'll be seeing him soon." Prod.
The bald sorcerer flinched.
And check mate. Gotcha.
The Czar didn't seem worried as I stomped my way closer. In fact, he seemed eager.
Too eager. I stopped in my tracks, let my sorcery reach out. Felt the werewolves hiding in the pews, their guns aimed and ready.
Bastard. I'd had enough.
Yure looked up over my shoulder and addressed Gwendolyn and Finlay. "We demand you remove this person," he flicked his fingers in my direction, "from our property."
I gaped in absolute shock at his arrogance before slowly pivoting on one booted foot to stare at the pair. Gwendolyn bit her lower lip while Finlay wavered.
No they would not.
"Sydlynn." Gwendolyn shrugged, hands open. "I'm sorry. We can't interfere unless a law is being broken."
I spun back and pointed at Charlotte, her father. Her grandfather. "Are you freaking kidding me?"
Finlay had the sense to look uncomfortable when he spoke. "The werewolves are his property," he said. "And he has every right to do with them as he chooses."
So much for them coming to help the enslaved and downtrodden.
"When people become property," I snarled, "witch law has failed."
They both blanched, Gwendolyn's cheeks as pale as a vampire.
"Why did you even bother?" My hiss of rage hurt my throat.
Neither of them spoke. There was nothing to say. They were either with me or against me. On the side of right or getting out of my way.
I heard the ceremony behind me start up again, felt Charlotte's fear turn to dejection and resignation.
No. Not in a million freaking years. No.
I was so done.
With a blast of spirit magic, I shoved the pair of witches back toward the exit. They weren't prepared for the attack, clearly, not from the stunned look on their faces. They bodily impacted the doors, flinging them open. I pushed so hard they fell out of the building before I slammed the way shut behind them and sealed the wood together with a shot of earth magic.
I spun on Piers who grinned at me like this was funny. A snap of power drove the smirk from his face and got his attention.
Keep. Them. Out.
I turned away from him before he could answer and faced the altar. Reached for Shaylee who sang her joy as she dove beneath the earth and exploded outward.
I'd never been in the middle of an earthquake before. Sure, I'd felt her shake my world, rattle some things. Break a few people. But never an all-out, no holds barred, rip roaring ground splitting.
My magic held me steady, bubble of power thrown out around me as the ceiling groaned and fell, chunks soaring down in slow motion to crush pews to powder. The hidden werewolves screamed in terror, running for their lives as the Czar snarled and created a shield of his own.
Around himself.
I've never hated anyone so much in my life. Not Ameline, not Liander Belaisle. That one act of absolute selfishness drove Yure Danko to the depths of my hit list, right below cockroaches and mosquitoes.
I stretched myself thin to protect the werewolves, but I did it. Threw everything I had into it while Shaylee shook and shook.
And shook.
The crisp winter air finally stopped her, as my shivering broke our concentration. When I released the shields around the others and pulled back to my own personal space, I found myself standing in an open channel, the church a pile of rubble around me. I had no doubt the palace behind us suffered terrible damage as well, but that wasn't my problem.
No, my problem stood, untouched and still grinning, at the other end of the empty aisle, waving at the dust cloud now able to settle around us.
He turned and, with deliberation, gestured for the attending official, likely one of his own sorcerers, to resume the ceremony.
"Charlotte!" I screamed her name as I sliced at the power holding her. "Say no! That's all you need to do and I'll finish taking this place apart."
She turned her head, met my eyes. "I don't have a choice," she said. "You know what that feels like, Syd. Don't you?"
Oh, hell. "You do have a choice," I said, walking closer now the werewolves were more interested in running from me than they were shooting me. "If you've learned anything from me, you should know there's always a choice."
"They own my people." She raised her shoulders and dropped them again. "They will own us forever."
"That's a lie." I glared at the Czar even as he laughed at me.
"No," he said. "You are the liar. Our people made them." He grabbed a fistful of Charlotte's hair and jerked her closer to him, her face pressed against his crotch. Horrible, horrible anger burst from my gut and up my chest as he went on. "And there's nothing you can do to change that."
"Let." I slammed power into him, not caring if it was Sidhe or demon or vampire or sorcery. "Her." Again and again, I pummeled him until he staggered back, hand dropping. "Go." One last hit and he grunted, blood bursting from his nose.
Rage flared in his own eyes, finally. He wiped at the blood with one hand, lips curved back, eyes bulging. "I will kill you for that!"
"Don't you mean, 'we'?" Way to prove you're a just an ordinary douchenozzle, dude.
Insanity joined his rage as he spluttered, spit flying from his mouth. He pulled himself together as Charlotte leaned back, eyes locked on mine. With his focus broken, I managed to cut open the bubble of sorcery around her and reach her inner mind at last.
You chose me once, I sent, frantic now to get through to her as her dull eyes told me I was losing her despite my need to pull her closer. You chose to come back for me. Remember? Vague recognition lit her gaze. Spluttered like a flame. Died. And I failed you. She tried to argue then, but I cut her off. It's my turn this time, Charlotte. I'm choosing you, don't you understand? I choose you right back.
Hope, just a flare of it, but enough. The bond is broken, she sent. There's nothing we can do.
I don't know what it feels like. I wrapped her in my power while the Czar, now aware of the contact, tried to shove me out. Show me. And I'll do everything I can to rebuild what we lost.
She hesitated. Only a moment, but long enough Yure's sorcery managed to find an edge and push. But he was too late.
I felt it, the soft kiss of promise, the way the werewolf bond gave a shard of soul from one to the other, creating a connection so profound, so close, they would die without their bonded. Love, family, protection, commitment. All of those and more wrapped up in werewolf power. Their greatest gift and their downfall all in one simple act of giving.
Just as he shoved me out, I felt Charlotte touch me, hold onto me.
And together, my power feeding her wolf, we remade the bond.
It sparked along the edges of the bubble holding her captive, burned it away like a fire on a dry patch of grass. The Czar fell back with a cry of fear, almost staggering into Vasyl who pushed him away with disgust on his face. I noted it, but didn't focus on him, not while Charlotte's whole body tensed. Relaxed. Magic pulsed over her, fed by my various magicks. I felt her, clearly, much more clearly this time. Because the bond was no longer one-sided. My vampire, Sidhe, demon and sorcery all linked with her, giving to her as she had given to us.
Charlotte stood in a rush, roaring her joy and her freedom into the bitter cold night sky to the howling counterpoint of her people.
***
