Arcane Entanglement (The Mage and His Brute #1)

Chapter 31

Viggo's heart pounded as he raced towards the burning church, Solomon and Finn hot on his heels. The acrid smell of smoke filled his nostrils, mingling with the ever-present stench of the ghettos and the sickly-sweet scent of burning Noctis Bloom .

He jerked to a stop when he reached the constables frozen around the building.

“What are you waiting for?!” Viggo roared. “Use your goddamn whistles and go get help!”

The officers jumped, pale faces turning towards them. One frowned and began reaching for his truncheon.

“Now’s not the time to be messing about, you pillock!” Solomon snarled. “Can any of you use water magic?!”

The constables exchanged fearful looks and shook their heads.

Frustration churned Viggo’s stomach. He looked hurriedly at Finn.

“Find the nearest Soot Squad and water pumps! This fire is going to spread if we don’t stop it right now!”

Debris from the explosion had already set alight one of the branches of the oak tree and clumps of dry grass in the graveyard. As if to prove him right, the thatched roof of a house next to the church ignited with a whoomph that sent birds lifting towards the sky in a mad flight.

Finn nodded jerkily and dashed off towards the slums. People had already begun trickling out of alleyways and were gathering in the street. Confusion gave way to fear when they saw the blaze.

A fire in the slums could decimate buildings and kill dozens in a matter of minutes.

The church soared above Viggo as he and Solomon pelted up the path, the blasts of the Met’s enchanted whistles splitting the air behind them. The weathered stone walls were already black with soot.

His chest tightened at the sight of the bright flames shooting out of the broken windows. The fire burned too intensely, too eagerly, to be anything but magical in origin.

“Sly,” Viggo barked as they closed in on the doorway where flames crackled and spit. “You know what to do!”

Solomon nodded grimly. He reached inside his coat and withdrew a small leather pouch before darting around the side of the building. Viggo felt the weight of his own bag against his chest, filled with the magical countermeasures that had saved their lives more than once.

There was no time for finesse.

He barrelled through the church entrance while yelling out Evander’s name, ignoring the searing heat of the fire and the alarmed shouts of the constables outside. Smoke stung his eyes as he tumbled to a halt in the narthex and squinted at the chaos within.

There, in the midst of it all, stood Evander.

Their eyes collided across the burning nave.

Surprise widened the mage’s gaze.

“Sorry I'm late!” Viggo called out, a grin tugging at his lips despite the dire situation.

Relief danced across Evander’s face.

“Your timing could use some work!” he shot back, voice tight with tension. “But I’m damn glad to see you!”

Before Viggo could respond, a bolt of sinister energy cracked the air towards him.

Instinct had him diving to the side.

He rolled behind a fallen pew as more attacks pelted the slabs around him.

Though he was immune to most threats of a magical nature, there was no point taking any chances, especially in the face of magic he had not encountered before.

Viggo’s pulse raced as he came up in a low crouch behind a cracked pillar. He peered around the column and took stock of the situation from his new vantage point.

A group of cloaked figures were advancing on Evander and the Met officers. Though the casters were doing their best to defend themselves with the wards in their weapons, they did not stand a chance against dark magic.

Viggo stiffened.

Some of the mages moved with eerie synchronicity, their pupils glowing an unnatural red. Realisation dawned, drawing a muffled curse from his lips.

He knew from Evander and Ginny’s accounts that Magnus had looked that way when he’d been trying to hurt them.

Those mages are being controlled, just like Magnus was!

There was movement at the back of the church. Solomon was darting stealthily from pew to pew. Their eyes met through the smoke-filled air. Viggo gave a sharp nod. Solomon dipped his head and reached into his pouch. He withdrew a handful of small, glass marbles.

Viggo’s breath misted in front of his face. A chill was spreading through the church. His startled gaze found Evander.

His heart stuttered.

Ice and wind swirled around the mage in a furious dance as he defended the casters at his side from their enemy’s strikes, his handsome face set in a fierce mask. A wall of frigid air blasted outward from him, knocking back his nearest foe and briefly extinguishing some of the flames ripping through the church.

Viggo swallowed.

The power and control Evander demonstrated as he shielded his associates was a far cry from the cruel, capricious magic he’d grown up fearing.

This was magic wielded with the intent to protect.

A dark mage broke through Evander's defences and bore down on a young constable. Rufus moved to intercept the man, Evander too focused on the battle before him to notice the incursion.

Viggo surged to his feet and crossed the distance to the mage in a few long strides. Evander’s magic proved a temporary obstruction, one he had to grit his teeth and force his body through, losing a precious couple of seconds.

He caught the mage's arm just as he was about to deliver a deadly spell to the inspector and wrenched it backward with brutal force.

The man howled in pain and fury. He twisted to face him. But Viggo was already moving, his fist connecting with the mage's jaw in a bone-jarring punch. The man crumpled, unconscious before he hit the ground.

“Watch out!” Rufus shouted.

Viggo dropped and rolled, the heat of a spell warming his skin as it passed over him. He rose on one knee on the far side of the nave and found another mage in his path. This one's eyes glowed the sickly red of possession, his face a veneer of inhuman focus.

“Now, Sly!” Viggo bellowed.

Solomon leapt atop a pew and tossed the marbles into the air.

They shattered amidst the dark mages, filling the space between them with a brief shower of glittering shards. Thick, silver fog billowed from the magical devices, the enchanted mist obscuring the vision of the enemy and causing several to stumble in confusion.

Griffiths and the constables took advantage of the chaos to attack, the runes on their glowing truncheons changing colour as they shifted from defensive to offensive magic.

Viggo jumped up and closed in on the controlled mage. He grappled the man and used his superior strength to force him to the ground before knocking him out with a blow to the head.

Solomon appeared on his right.

“Where the hell did they learn to fight like that?!” he mumbled.

Viggo looked around. His jaw nearly dropped.

Evander had engaged a pair of half-blinded mages, his attacks fluid and brutal as he delivered a series of strikes that rapidly incapacitated them. Two more figures closed in on him. He kneed one in the crotch, slammed the sides of his palms in the other one’s ears, perforating his drums, and booted the first man in the belly with a powerful side kick.

Rufus similarly had his hands full with another mage. He ducked nimbly to avoid a blow to his temple and elbowed his assailant viciously in the nose as he straightened. Bone crunched. The man howled.

It was clear from the practiced way Evander and the inspector moved that they were used to defending themselves in a physical brawl.

“Well, aren’t they full of surprises,” Viggo muttered.

Power detonated around Evander a moment later, rapidly engulfing him in a whirlwind of elemental fury that made the Brute’s breath catch all over again.

Ice lanced from the mage’s fingertips, pinning one attacker to the wall. He gestured sharply with his other hand and sent a man flying across several pews with a violent gust of wind.

But for every foe Evander felled, two more took their place.

Viggo scowled, aware they were still badly outnumbered.

They needed to even the odds.

“Can you herd them to the chancel?!” he yelled.

Evander glanced his way and nodded grimly.

Viggo took out a short metal stick from the pouch inside his coat as the mage used wind and ice to drive their enemy to the back of the church. He hesitated for a split second, old instincts warring with necessity.

Using any kind of magic, even defensively, went against everything he'd believed for so long.

A pained cry from one of the constables made the decision for him.

Viggo activated the disruptor rod. It hummed to life in his hand.

He drew his arm back and hurled it towards the dark mages.

A ripple of energy pulsed outward from the device as it dropped towards the cloaked figures. The mages cursed, their spells fizzling out as the disruptor’s field interfered with their casting.

Evander’s eyes widened as he registered what Viggo had done.

But there was no time for explanations.

Viggo charged forward, taking advantage of the mages’ momentary weakness to engage them directly before the effects of the anti-magic device faded.