Iron and Magic (The Iron Covenant #1)(81)

“I told you,” Ascanio said. “I said this would happen.”

Hugh pulled a knife from the sheath on his waist and moved forward.

The two men reached each other. Raphael struck, so fast he was a blur. Somehow Hugh dodged.

“Go get him, honey!” Andrea called out.

What? Elara looked at her.

“I’m so sorry,” Andrea said. “The Iron Dogs killed my mother-in-law.”

“My condolences,” Elara said. “What happens when my husband makes you a widow?”

“Raphael won’t lose.”

Hugh spun out of the way and kicked Raphael in the stomach. The shapeshifter rolled, sprung to his feet, his eyes growing blood red, and charged Hugh.

Don’t lose, she willed silently. Don’t lose, Hugh.

The two men clashed and broke apart. Hugh’s left forearm bled. A blue glow clamped the wound. It knitted closed.

A cut snaked down Raphael’s face. He wiped it off and flung the blood away. His skin sealed itself. Lyc-V, the virus responsible for shapeshifter existence, gifted them with unmatched regeneration.

They clashed again, slashing, carving, stabbing, so fast she could barely guess at the attacks. Raphael was a whirlwind, but Hugh was stronger. They tore across the bailey. If it wasn’t for the knives, they could almost be dancing.

Hugh staggered back. Cold rushed through her. He must’ve taken a hit, but she couldn’t see it. Raphael dove into the opening, slashing. The tip of his dagger grazed Hugh’s throat, drawing a sharp red line.

Elara gasped.

Hugh grabbed Raphael’s wrist with his left hand and twisted. Bone snapped with a crunch. The shapeshifter snarled and dropped the dagger. Andrea clicked her teeth.

Hugh kicked the dagger out of the way. They lunged at each other.

Seconds stretched into minutes, slow and viscous, like dripping honey. Hugh was covered in a blue glow now. Raphael was bleeding. The Lyc-V couldn’t fix him fast enough. The stones under their feet were smeared with red.

Something was wrong. She’d watched Hugh fight before. This wasn’t him. He was precise and deliberate. This was a frenzy, almost as if… as if he were letting Raphael vent his anger on him.

If he used magic, this fight would be over.

Hugh was punishing himself.

Raphael smashed his fist into Hugh’s side. Hugh took the hit, clamped Raphael’s arm, and stabbed Raphael in the kidneys. The shapeshifter tore free. The blue glow jumped from Hugh to Raphael’s wound and lingered.

She watched it for a long moment, in disbelief. Her hands clenched. That was enough. Elara started forward.

“What are you doing?” Andrea asked.

“I’m going to stop it.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Andrea said. “They don’t look like they need any help.”

Elara let her magic spill out of her. It rolled off her, cold like the bottom of an iceberg in the deep dark ocean. The shapeshifter woman drew a sharp breath.

“Hugh is healing him.”

Andrea squinted at the fighters. “No…”

The blue glow clung to Raphael’s other side.

Shock slapped Andrea’s face. “Yes. He is. Why?”

“Because he is punishing himself. The man your husband came here to kill doesn’t exist anymore. The man here now is going to let himself be hurt because he thinks he needs to be punished. This has gone far enough. Nobody is dying today. I won’t allow it.”

“Raphael,” Andrea called out. “Stop. Enough!”

Raphael drove his knife into Hugh’s side in a vicious upward stab. Hugh punched him in the face. Raphael staggered back, his lips drawn back in a grimace. Hugh had gone pale. Fear pinched her. She’d let it go on for too long.

Raphael spun a kick. His back was to her. She grazed his shoulder with her fingertips, stealing just a tiny drop of his life.

The shapeshifter halted. His black dagger drooped. He took a halting step back and dropped to his knees.

She thrust herself in front of Hugh and slid her arms around his neck, her magic bathing them both. “It’s over.”

He took a step forward, carrying her dead weight on his neck.

“It’s done,” she murmured, wrapping her voice around them. “No more. I need you. We all need you. Please, Hugh. Let it be.”

He stopped and looked at her. Awareness came back in his eyes. Elara exhaled.

Behind them Andrea knelt by Raphael and put her arms around him.

“So tired,” Raphael whispered and slumped to the ground.

“You fought well,” she told him. “You killed him at least four times. Aunt B would be proud.”

Hugh was looking at her. He dipped his head. She didn’t realize what he was doing until his lips found hers. It was a hungry desperate kiss. She tasted his pain on her tongue and stepped away. The entire front of her dress was soaked in blood. Hugh stumbled and toppled forward like a log. She barely caught him and her knees shook under the impact of his dead weight.

“Can we have lunch now?” Ascanio asked.





Hugh opened his eyes. The ceiling above him was shrouded in gloom. He was in his bedroom.

Everything hurt.

He blinked at the ceiling, trying to find some equilibrium between the pain in different parts of him, a magic spot where it hurt a little less. He failed.