Shadowspell

He cocked his head to one side, looking puzzled. “If by ‘mojo’ you mean ‘magic,’ then yes.”

“Um, let me think about that a minute,” I said, tapping my chin. I didn’t know where I was finding the nerve to be such a smartass with him, especially not when my knees were so wobbly it was a miracle I managed to stay standing.

I shook my head. “Nope. Don’t think I can do that. Sorry.”

I thought being denied might piss him off, but he surprised me by smiling again. When he let that smile reach his eyes, he was a thing of beauty. Terrifying beauty, but beauty nonetheless. “Ah, well. There was no harm in asking.”

Somehow I didn’t think he was planning to give up that easily.

“I guess we have nothing more to talk about, then,” I said, trying to sound confident.

The Erlking’s smile broadened, and he looked me up and down slowly. A shiver crawled up my spine. His eyes said he was mentally undressing me, and I had to glance down to convince myself his magic hadn’t stripped my clothes away. My face burned with embarrassment as if I really were standing there naked in front of him.

“Stop it,” Ethan said, letting go of my hand and stepping between me and the Erlking.

Once again, I felt the prickle of Ethan’s magic. I didn’t like having the Erlking leer at me like that, but I didn’t want Ethan getting all protective and getting himself into trouble. Fae boys suffer from testosterone poisoning as badly as human ones do.

I reached out and put my hand on Ethan’s arm, giving it a little pull so he was standing beside me instead of in front of me. He gave me a startled look, but didn’t argue.

“Are you certain you can’t be persuaded to ride with me?” the Erlking asked, and his voice was strangely different now, lower and huskier. Sexy, even, though in a way that gave me the shivers. “You might find the ride more enjoyable than you expect.” He raised one eyebrow suggestively.

Beside me, Ethan stiffened, and his muscles went taut under my hand. It occurred to me exactly what the Erlking was doing, and it was almost a relief to see through it.

“Don’t take the bait, Ethan,” I said while keeping my eyes on the Erlking. “He’s hoping you’ll do something stupid so he can hurt you.”

The Erlking shook his head, making a face of exaggerated regret. “Alas, you see right through me, Faeriewalker. My wiles are wasted on you.”

He finished by heaving a big sigh. Then the expression on his face changed, turning cold and menacing once again.

“ ’Tis a pity we cannot reach an agreement,” he said. To my horror, he reached over his shoulder and grasped the pommel of the sword. “Faeriewalkers are born so seldom it’s a shame to waste one.”

The sword made an ominous hissing sound as it slid free of the scabbard. The metal shone as if there were a light inside it, and the blade was as long as my legs. It looked like it weighed a ton, but the Erlking held it in one hand like it weighed no more than a butter knife.

I shook my head, trying to hold on to my courage. “You can’t hurt me,” I said, hoping I sounded surer than I felt. “The geis won’t let you.”

He gave me another one of those cold smiles of his, the kind that didn’t reach his eyes. “Is that so?” he asked. Then he swung the blade toward my neck.

I screamed and ducked. Beside me, Ethan bellowed in what sounded more like rage than fear. Instead of ducking or dodging the blade as any sensible person would do, he was surging forward. I screamed again when I saw the silver knife in his hand. He and Kimber always carried hidden knives. Kimber said it was because their affiliation with the Student Underground put them in danger. I tried to grab Ethan’s arm to stop him, but my first instinct to duck made me too slow.

One corner of the Erlking’s mouth rose in a triumphant smile as his blade passed harmlessly over my head. It wasn’t because I’d ducked, either—he’d missed on purpose, had never had any intention of hurting me. But Ethan didn’t know that.

The Erlking winked at me, then raised his arm to stave off Ethan’s attack. He didn’t even wince when Ethan’s silver blade sliced through his leather jacket and drew a line of blood on his forearm.

I think at the last second, Ethan realized he’d been tricked, but it was too late and he couldn’t stop in time.

“Too easy,” the Erlking said, but he didn’t sound a bit unhappy about it. Putting the sword back in its scabbard with one hand, he casually backhanded Ethan with the other.

Blood flew from Ethan’s cheek as the blow knocked him back. He swayed for one moment, then his legs crumpled. I ran to his side as the Erlking examined the bloodied spikes on the back of his gauntlet.

I dropped to my knees beside Ethan, relieved to see that his chest still rose and fell with his breaths. How long that was going to last, I didn’t know. My mind churned frantically, trying to figure out how I could save Ethan without doing anything that would allow the Erlking to attack me. I came up blank.

But when the Erlking squatted down on Ethan’s other side, he made no hostile move. The smugness was gone, and when he met my eyes over Ethan’s body, I thought I caught a hint of something sad in them. His voice when he spoke was surprisingly gentle, and so soft that only I could hear it.

“He is mine now, Faeriewalker.” He reached down and plucked a strand of Ethan’s long blond hair out of the blood that marred the side of his face. “His wound will heal within the hour, but he will not be the same man you once knew.”