Master of Smoke

he’s diverting power from the spell.” Belle closed her eyes and drew hard on the Mageverse’s power, preparing the blast she’d need to launch. “As soon as you’re out of there, merge with the others.”
    Smoke stared at her, worry in his great, soft eyes. “Warlock will attack you. He’s going to try to rip you apart.”
    “Not if I distract him,” Eva said. Before either of them could protest, she flung herself toward the sorcerer.
    “Oh, hell!” Belle launched the spell at the cage with all her magical strength. Light burst around it with the impact, great fractures appearing. Smoke pressed hard against the crumbling bars, trying to force his way clear.
    Gritting her teeth, Belle gave the cage another rolling blast.
    With a cry of triumph, Smoke shot to freedom in a burst of golden light.

    This is suicide, Eva thought, shooting toward Warlock’s back as he pounded her lover. She had no idea how to work any spell that didn’t involve turning into something furry. Yet here she was, attacking Darth Fang.
    “You don’t have to work spells,” Belle said in her mind. “Here, it’s all about will. Just concentrate on how much you want to pay Warlock back for everything he’s done. You’ll be surprised at how much damage you can do.”
    A slow, cold smile curved Eva’s mouth. She imagined sinking her fangs into Warlock’s neck and shaking him like a rat.
    Suddenly she was on top of the wizard, her insubstantial jaws clamping into the sorcerer’s flesh. He roared in shocked rage. She ripped away a psychic mouthful, then went to work with her claws.

    “Eva, no!” David watched in horror as his lover ripped at the wizard, ignoring how he could hurt her.
    “Bitch!” Warlock roared, twisting around to rake his claws across her face. “You’re going to pay for that!” Blood flew, both his and hers.
    He’s going to kill her, David said through gritted teeth.
    No, he won’t, Smoke said. Because we’re going to get him first. He darted toward them, a dim blur of energy that rocked them as he hit.
    They remembered.
    Thousands of years of knowledge, of magic, of power, exploded in David’s consciousness like a nuclear bomb, stunning in its sheer savage magnificence. In a flash, the fractured parts of his spirit brothers slotted together, becoming one again. He roared in triumph, knowing what to do now. He could feel the magic waiting for his call deep in the Mageverse. And he knew how to hurt Warlock, even as the Dire Wolf prepared to direct a blast of magic at Eva.
    “Get her out of here, Belle!” David shouted.
    “Right.” The witch captured Eva in a net of will and whirled to dive back along the psychic path they’d used. Utterly focused on killing them, Warlock roared in pursuit.
    David hit him with a blast of magic that tumbled him ass over ears. On the physical plane, the sorcerer’s huge body convulsed in his cave.
    A savage pleasure surged through David. Now, after all these days of frustration and pain and fear, after seeing Eva hurt trying to protect him, he could finally kill Warlock. There would be no mercy. There would be no hesitation.
    He would end the fucker.
    David sent another blast into the sorcerer, fire surging from his melded spirit. Again and again he fired in searing concussions of magic that boiled into his enemy’s skull.

    Warlock writhed in the center of the focus circle, screaming in pain as his four remaining Bastards hovered helplessly.
    The cat was killing him from the inside out. And there was nothing he could do about it. But he was damned if he’d just give up and die. He couldn’t leave his people unprotected.
    Warlock knew what he had to do. It was forbidden, but he didn’t care. His people would have turned from him in horror, but that didn’t matter either. He had to stop the pain.
    He had to live.
    Warlock rolled over, fumbling blindly for Kingslayer. His fingers closed around the thickly engraved haft, and he felt its power sing a deep, low note in his mind.
    Another blast ripped at him, and his body convulsed again, but he clung to his blade and gritted, “Wheeler! Wheeler, get over here!”
    The leader of Fenir spoke from somewhere over his head. “Warlock? What would you have of me?”
    Warlock reached up blindly with his left hand and grabbed Kevin Wheeler by the muzzle. “Your life.” Swinging Kingslayer, he beheaded the Dire Wolf with one stroke. He heard the other wolves gasp in horror.
    Arterial blood splashed into his face, as