Mathias fell to his knees, and he clutched his stomach with both hands. All the goodness coating the sword was crashing Mathias’s system. No doubt the bastard was trying to heal himself, but the effort was rapidly depleting his energy. Without it, healing any faster than a human would be impossible. Blood oozed from his wounds as quickly as it left his face. It dripped from his gaping mouth. Trembling, he raised his heat and glared at Ice with accusing eyes.

“You said you would,” he choked. “Concede.”

“I lied, just as you did. You abducted Sabelle and never had any intention of letting her go freely. You intended to use her to manipulate the Doomsday Diary, then kill her.”

“Not so stupid, after all,” Mathias hissed. “But it’s too late.”

“What’s this you say?” Blackbourne interjected. “Mr. d’Arc has Ms. Rion?”

“Hostage somewhere in your house at this moment.” And Ice was never so grateful that a wizard had locked down the property from teleportation or Sabelle would already be gone forever.

Ice dropped his sword and ran for the force field’s door. He had to find Sabelle, now, in case Rhea had seen Mathias’s injury through the window and harmed Sabelle in retaliation.

Blackbourne call out, “Wait! If you leave the challenge ring before I declare a winner or someone forfeits, Mr. d’Arc wins by default.”

Damn! Bloody stupid rules. He didn’t care. Sabelle was more important.

“No!” Tynan shouted just outside the ring. “Stay. Bram and I will find her.”

“She could be in danger—”

“And all we’ve worked for will be lost if you step outside that ring now. I’ll end this danger to Sabelle. You finish him.” Tynan nodded at Mathias.

As much as he hated not to come to Sabelle’s rescue, allowing Mathias to win the Council seat only gave him more power later to hurt her. His patience was at a the very end, but he gave Tynan a curt nod, then focused on the opportunity to ensure that Mathias never frightened or harmed anyone ever again. Time to dish out death.

Tynan addressed Blackbourne. “Lift the teleportation lock. I must reach Mathias’s witch as soon as possible. I need the element of surprise.”

If he hadn’t already lost it.

Sighing, Blackbourne removed his wand from his coat, then gave it a dramatic wave. “It’s been removed outside the house, except for the challenge ring.”

Perfect, Ice thought.

Retrieving his sword, Ice crouched before Mathias and pressed the blade to the back of his neck. “How does all that pure-hearted blood that’s seeped into your wounds feel? How do you like the enchantment of goodness?”

Mathias screamed in pure agony. Ice resisted the urge to wince. Instead, he noted that Mathias had grown paler. He coughed up blood. Ice had suspected earlier that his own blood, mixed with the enchantment, would serve as a sort of poison to Mathias’s system that might kill him.

But for good measure, he would try to sever Mathias’s head from his body. Ninety-nine percent of the time, that killed a wizard dead for good. And with the blade of the sword pressed against the evil wizard’s neck, Ice’s hand trembled.

“I’m going to make certain you never hurt anyone again.”

“As you’re so fond of saying, fuck off.” Mathias crawled toward the challenge ring’s door.

“Stop him!”

Blackbourne shrugged. “No one has conceded or won this challenge. I cannot interfere.”

More bloody stupid rules. Did Councilmen have nothing to do all day but contrive them?

Shoving the thought to the back of his head, Ice leapt at Mathias. The other wizard clutched his stomach as he crawled out the nearly-invisible door. Ice latched on to his ankle before Mathias could break free of the challenge ring.

“No, you bloody bastard. This is a fight to the finish. To the death. Let’s end it. Why don’t you die?”

“You first,” Mathias snarled as he tried to pull his leg free from Ice’s grasp.

He wasn’t about to let go.

Blackbourne tsked and clucked, observing with great concern. Ice ignored him and focused on Mathias, using every muscle in his body to reel the other wizard back into the challenge ring, one clawed inch across the floor after another.

With a roar, Mathias glared at Ice over his shoulder, then leapt up, pinning Ice to the floor. The maniacal wizard clasped his shoulders in a crushing grip and pressed his forehead into Ice’s.

Fuck. Having Mathias panting in his face made Ice’s stomach roil. Instantly, his energy began to drain, pouring out his body everywhere Mathias touched him. Ice grabbed the sword and, with Herculean effort, brought it crashing down on Mathias’s back again. The other wizard bucked and snarled—but didn’t let go.

Before Ice could yank the sword free and stab him again, Mathias bulldozed into his head, created a mental link, and filled it with images of Gailene. He’d shared links with others before and knew this was a true memory, one that only Mathias could have put in his head. Gailene naked, bloody, pleading for help. Begging for Ice to save her.

The sight was bad enough, but the words … crushing. Ice screamed as he saw Mathias crawl from between Gailene’s thighs as she cried, tied down to a filthy bed, shaved, branded. A line of Anarki stood behind him, all hoping for a turn before the girl died. And too young to perform her own magic, too inexperienced with this sort of violence, she sobbed.

Ice heard her call for him over and over. The sounds ripped through his soul. Shreds of it flamed with guilt and fury and shame. When his own beloved sister had needed him, he had been unable to rescue her. Even now, he couldn’t muster the strength to stab Mathias again.

The vision continued, and another wizard knelt to Gailene. Her sobs increased. She knew the death Mathias planned to deal her and begged for mercy. Mathias merely laughed and watched the carnage unfold.

“Are you ready to die, begging as your sister did?” Mathias taunted, wand raised.

This vision was the past. The painful, awful, twisted past, yes. But it was written. Done. And he could do nothing to change it. The future … That he could impact. He’d never bring Gailene back. But the future could be full of bright tomorrows if he could focus on it, on Sabelle, on escape and eliminating Mathias.

Ice sucked in a breath, dug deep inside him, then jerked his body away from the other wizard’s, determined to break the physical link draining him and stop the haunting images poisoning his head. Muscles screaming, he lifted the sword and stabbed Mathias in the shoulder with the sword dipped in good blood and enchantments again, and the wizard howled.

“To kill you is a vow I made long ago,” Ice rumbled. “Today, I will keep it.”

Jerking the sword from Mathias’s flesh once more, Ice roared, pain slicing its way through every muscle as he wobbled to his knees, still trying to push the disturbing, terrible visions of Gailene from his head. Weak. So damn weak. His vision swam and he saw double as his stomach pitched. He clutched the sword above Mathias, who staggered on hands and knees below him, bleeding profusely on the challenge ring’s floor. The wizard’s body heaved, bucked, and he vomited as the poison of good worked its way through his tainted blood.

There were two Mathiases blurring Ice’s vision, and the smell of blood and vomit nearly made him lose his own lunch. But he held it back. One good swing with this sword through Mathias’s neck, and he could put the past to rest, save Sabelle and magickind.

Vowing to finish Mathias for Gailene and Sabelle and all of magickind, Ice trembled almost beyond his control, the tattoo winding around his biceps pulsating, as he raised his sword. With a final battle cry, he lowered it.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

SABELLE CLASPED HER MAGICALLY-BOUND hands in front of her and stared out the window at the empty field bordering Blackbourne’s lands. Nausea and cold dread vied for control of her stomach. By now, Ice knew that Mathias’s witch, Rhea, was holding her captive. It was only a matter of time before the evil wizard used it against him, forcing him to do something unthinkable like surrender … or allow himself to be slain. Sabelle saw it all in Rhea’s thoughts.

Neither could happen. She refused to allow it.

Nerves gripped her stomach in a cruel vise, and she twisted her fingers, thoughts racing. She must do some-thing—and quick. But what? Sabelle cast a sidelong glance at Rhea. Dressed like a goth Victoria’s Secret model, the other witch engendered both her fury and pity. She was helping Mathias with acts that would ultimately enslave and kill lots of witches and wizards … and she didn’t seem to truly grasp that fact.

“Shouldn’t be long now,” Rhea bragged. “The most powerful, skilled wizard in all of magickind will be mine.”

The witch was clueless. Mathias would never be exclusively hers. Though Rhea’s breasts were in danger of spilling from her very brief top and her transparent knickers revealed a lush, womanly body, Mathias talked to the witch as if she were of no consequence. He merely used her. And when he was finished, he would discard her, perhaps in an unfortunately permanent fashion.

But Rhea’s problems weren’t Sabelle’s. Right now, she had to get free. Escaping the other witch might be possible, but once Mathias returned, her own doom was likely sealed—surely after Ice’s had been.

Think! She’d been foolish to believe that Mathias wouldn’t be brazen enough to abduct her under Blackbourne’s roof. Spilled milk now, and she couldn’t afford to cry. She must devise a plan to escape.

With her hands bound and her wand tucked away, magic was impossible. She’d already tried reasoning with Rhea, but she was disgustingly loyal to the magical sadist she shagged. It really left her with no option but trickery.

And Sabelle had no problem using it.

“Indeed. I’m rather more concerned about the fact that Mathias bound my hands so tightly, I may lose them if you don’t loosen his magic.”

“You’re trying to trick me,” she accused, eyes narrowed suspiciously.

Hmm. So she wasn’t completely daft.

“If you don’t believe me, come test these bonds yourself.”

The witch would have to touch her, since the bonds were invisible. Or she’d simply loosen them. Either way, Sabelle won.

“Mathias said I shouldn’t touch you, so I won’t. Besides, why do I care if you lose your hands?”

“Because Mathias needs me to write in the Doomsday Diary, yes? How am I to do that without hands?” Sabelle let that sink in for a pregnant moment, then added. “I wonder if Mathias will remain your wizard if he went to the trouble to abduct Merlin’s granddaughter and you allowed her to become useless.”

Rhea’s eyes went wide. The thoughts crossing her mind told Sabelle she’d hit her target. Likely, by the time she counted to five, the other witch would be loosening her binds. One, two, three . . .

“Nothing funny,” Rhea warned, adopting a mean snarl as she grasped her wrists.

Gotcha. As soon as the woman’s hands touched her, Sabelle sent out waves of compassion, laced with distaste for holding another captive. Rhea’s eyes glazed over, and something soft passed across her face. Resisting the urge to tap her toe, Sa-belle waited for her siren magic to do its trick … and hoped she could escape in time to save Ice from doing something stupidly noble that would cost them everything.

Ice’s blade struck nothing.

He blinked. Blinked again, desperate to clear his vision. Ice wiped sweat and tears from his eyes as he prayed for strength and staggered to his feet.

Just in time to see Mathias crawl onto the brown grass outside the challenge ring. The wizard cast him a look of pure loathing … then disappeared.

“Where the bloody devil did he go?” Spencer asked, a concerned frown on his face.

“Teleported away.”

Fury smacked Ice between the eyes. Sick defeat squeezed his chest, threatening to suffocate him. He’d tried. He’d disappointed himself, Sabelle, Gailene. Magickind. He dug the heels of his palms into his eyes, trying again to clear his vision, but he knew that once he tore his hands away, Mathias would still be gone.

Ice held in a curse and a cry. Instead, he stumbled to his feet. He must keep moving forward. Even if Sabelle never spoke to him again, even if she deemed him unworthy, he had to save her.

As he moved to leave the challenge ring, Blackbourne stopped him with a hand about his arm.

“You’re alive.”

Barely. And Blackbourne blinked as if astounded by the most recent events.

“Indeed. I must . . .” He stabbed his palms into his eyes again, trying not to see two of everything about him, and drew in steadying breaths. “Find Sabelle. That bastard you supported got away and threatened to kill her.”

The rest of the Council frowned at him. “Your brother and o’Shea are in the house, so I presume they’re looking into that. Before you join them, we have business to see to you. Since Mr. d’Arc teleported away during the challenge, I pronounce you the winner. Accordingly, you are now the next member of the Magical Council, with all the privileges and rights—”