Runebinder (The Runebinder Chronicles #1)(93)

And it was storing Jarrett’s power.

He traced the runes again. Felt the surge of energy deep within the stone. Tenn couldn’t channel enough Earth to mend Jarrett—maybe, if it had been Water, he would have stood a chance. But he’d only been attuned to Earth for a year or so. It wasn’t nearly strong enough. But if he could rewrite these runes. If he could reverse the power...

He opened to Earth.

He opened to Water.

Water had always guided him. Water had always pulled him forward, connected him to something bigger than himself. Water, he realized, was how the gods spoke to him. Spoke through him. And he would give them that chance.

“Help me,” he whispered and prayed. Please help me save him.

He poured a thin stream of energy into the stone. But not to activate it. To change it. He manipulated the runes. Changed the paths of the currents of power. His eyes were half-closed, his breathing soft, his thoughts no longer his.

Save him, he thought on repeat. His mantra. His lifeline.

The stone hummed. Grew hot with power as the runes slowly changed. As the runes became a different language. A lighter language. One not cursed by the Dark Lady’s tongue.

He reached out, pressed the stone to Jarrett’s belly. Pressed more power into the stone. Into the runes as he changed them: release; the rising sun; a plant bursting to blossom.

The stone glowed green, runes flared emerald.

And with a rush of energy that sounded like thunder, that shook the room like a windfall, the stone connected to Jarrett’s dying Sphere. The stone and the runes stopped draining.

The stone released its power and filled him.

Jarrett’s body arched from the ground as wave upon wave of light and energy crashed through him, flares of green that nearly sent Tenn backward. But he kept holding on. Holding on to the power he poured into the stone. Holding on to Jarrett’s arm even as he bucked away. Holding on to the hope that this had worked. This had to work.

Another rumble. Another wave of power. A lance of energy as the stone cracked, as light poured out and nearly blinded him.

Then Jarrett collapsed to the ground.

The stone fell to the side and shattered.

Tenn sat there. Staring. His heart hammering louder than thunder in his chest.

Come on. Come on. Come on.

“I believe,” Jarrett whispered, his eyes quirking open, “my prince is supposed to kiss me awake.”





CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

HE DIDN’T KNOW how long they huddled there, curled against one another. Jarrett was alive. Jarrett was alive. But weak. So weak. He fell asleep in Tenn’s arms right after speaking, as though that act had been scaling a mountain. Tenn didn’t care. He could have stayed there all night, holding Jarrett to his chest, until the twins began their attack and he had to kick his brain into gear.

He could have stayed there, if not for the hand that touched his shoulder. The hand that burned with fire and ice.

“Tomás,” Tenn hissed, flinching away, shielding Jarrett from the incubus.

Tomás stood there, inches away, once more wearing nothing but skintight jeans and a smile, as though it weren’t snowing outside. As though this were just another seduction. He burned like a sun. He must have been feeding. Tenn hated himself for not sensing the Kin’s arrival. He should have known Tomás and Leanna would be together. Working together. And now, here he was to gloat.

“I am impressed,” Tomás said. He was staring not at Tenn but at Jarrett. Jarrett, who could barely keep his eyes open. “You have done what no other could do.”

“I didn’t turn him,” Tenn said.

“No. But you spoke the language of the runes. You heard the Dark Lady’s call.” His eyes trailed to Tenn as he spoke, the smile twisting into something else. Tenn didn’t like that change in Tomás’s demeanor.

Tomás was looking at him like an equal.

“I didn’t hear anything,” Tenn said. “What the hell do you want?”

“Touchy, touchy,” Tomás muttered. He stroked the side of Tenn’s face, sending chills down his spine. Then he reached for Jarrett. Tenn beat his hand away. Tomás actually chuckled. “She expects this one to be a monster, you know.” He looked at Tenn. “What will you do when my sister arrives and finds him whole? Do you truly think you will leave here?”

“We’ll fight.”

Tomás laughed. Far too loudly. Tenn fully expected Leanna to come barging in right then. The fact that she didn’t had him on edge. She had to have felt that much magic. Maybe she just thought it was him turning Jarrett into a Howl?

“You’ll fight?” Tomás asked. “Adorable. And here I thought you had actually learned something in the last few days.” Quick as a viper, Tomás had Tenn against the wall, feet away from Jarrett, a hand around his neck. “You forget your place, little mouse. You cannot kill Leanna. Just as you cannot kill me. At best, you are our plaything. At worst, a meal.”

He leaned in and licked Tenn’s jawline. Fire screamed inside Tenn’s chest as the incubus drew the heat from him, leaving him shuddering. A renegade sigh escaped his lips.

“You don’t have it in you to fight her,” Tomás said, his words tilting on bedroom huskiness. “And neither does your lover. If you want to get out of here alive, you are going to have to play by my rules.”