by Bella Klaus
This was dire. I had to get his mind back onto the wards, on escaping, on anything except my blood. “What happens when you turn off the wards?”
When Valentine didn’t answer again, my stomach churned with trepidation. Was this stage two of the curse? A mindless, slathering beast?
“Can you leave through the front door?” I tried to keep the tremble out of my voice. The last thing I needed was to be nervous and incite his predator instinct.
“Getting into the garden and the front steps is easy enough,” he replied. “Getting out is the problem.”
A relieved breath escaped my lungs. Maybe he wasn’t as far gone as I had thought. “Have you tried turning them off?”
“But that would expose you to—”
“Please, try it.” Right now, shadow mage assassins or enforcers from the Supernatural Council didn’t sound so terrible.
“Alright.” Valentine fell silent for several moments before letting out a frustrated growl. There was no need to ask if it had worked or not.
My mind whirred, trying to puzzle this out. A single shadow mage couldn’t lock down an entire building, overriding wards that had been in existence for hundreds of years.
“Hey,” I said.
“Hmmm?” he replied.
“You said Aunt Arianna visited the house with locks of my hair.” When Valentine didn’t reply, I continued anyway. “What if these latest adjustments she made to prepare the villa got something scrambled?”
He made a noncommittal grunt.
I bit down on my lip. Was he even listening? “Or whatever that mage did to me could have triggered the wards to trap us inside.”
Valentine made another low hum that could have been him pondering my words or the appreciative sound people made when about to eat a delicious-smelling meal.
“Valentine?” I hissed.
“I’m thinking about it,” he replied. “I also tried your phone. It doesn’t work.”
Despair washed through my veins like acid. I hadn’t just imagined that conversation with Aunt Arianna. Either Valentine was lying about the wards or whoever trapped us in this house had allowed me a single phone call before blocking off all mobile signals. I pressed the heel of my hand into my aching chest. Every instinct told me not to trust Valentine.
“Alright,” I said, more to myself than anyone else.
The only way I would survive the next few hours in this villa was by developing my fire magic. From everything I’d learned, the fire produced by supernaturals had just as much destructive power as the element they stored within firestone and employed as weapons.
I inhaled a deep breath, focussing on the feel of his fangs sliding through my veins. When that did nothing, I brought back the spike of panic that had lanced my heart when I realized that he was gulping down my blood and wouldn’t stop.
Flames erupted from my fingertips. They were no larger than those that flickered out of lit candles and glowed a deep crimson color that matched Valentine’s eyes.
I clenched my teeth. The paler the flame, the hotter the fire. Red meant cool but white…
Pouring all my frustration into my fingers, I told them to burn longer, harder, hotter. Someone out there wanted me dead and they were prepared to tamper with Valentine’s mind to make him my executioner. The frustration surging through my veins heated to anger and then to incandescent rage.
This was the most disgusting, cowardly way to get rid of a person the authorities failed to kill at birth. Because that’s what I was—the wielder of a dangerous power that made me the enemy of every member of the Supernatural Council. Right now, I didn’t even know if that list of enemies included Valentine.
The flames expanded, engulfing my entire hand to the wrist and paling to an orange-yellow. The firestone tattoo around my wrist glowed white.
Pride flared through my chest, surged through my veins, and erupted from my lungs in a laugh. So much for being a Neutral. So much for being breeding stock only good for bearing strong supernatural babies. I was a bloody fire mage.
As the flames continued to grow, black smoke spread across the bathroom door and up to the ceiling. The scent of burning wood filled my nostrils. Even if fire and heat didn’t affect me, I wasn’t about to test my new powers against smoke inhalation.
“Mera?” Valentine’s voice echoed from the other side of the door.
“Stand back,” I said. “I’m coming out and don’t want you to get burned.”
Valentine paused. “What are you doing in there?”
I slid back the lock with my non-burning hand and flung open the door to find Valentine on the other side.
The yellow of my flames warmed the red undertones in his bronze skin, reminding me of how sunlight bounced off copper spires. Orange light reflected on the ends of his glossy black hair, making him look like he’d been specially lit for a photoshoot.
He stared at the flames dancing off my fingers and spreading toward the ceiling with his full lips parted, looking as mesmerized as a cat. The red in his irises receded, bringing forth dark blue.
I gulped, never having seen Valentine look as beautiful as when he was basking in the light of my power.
“You did it,” he said, his voice breathy with awe.
“How do you like the smell of my blood now?” I asked.
Valentine’s features softened. “You’ve always smelled intoxicating, but at least your fire has taken the edge off my desire.”
“Good.”
He licked his lips. “But we’re still trapped.”
“I have a theory.” I walked toward him, reveling in the way he stepped back as though I was powerful, dangerous, someone to be respected rather than ravished.
“What if the curse was also designed to tamper with your ability to control the magic protecting the villa?” I asked.
“That is a possibility.” Valentine’s gaze remained fixed on the flames, and he continued edging backward until he stepped out into the hallway. “What do you want to do?”
I curled my fingers, marveling at how his eyes moved to follow the patterns I made with the fire. “What happens if you pull down the wards?”
His gaze darted toward mine. “If enforcers are outside, I might stop them from arresting you, but they will report the sighting of a fire wielder to the Council.”
“Do they have the authority to enter your property?”
“If they suspect I’m in danger of being assassinated, then yes,” he replied.
I bit down on my lip. “Alright then. Try stepping outside.”
Valentine disappeared in a crack of sound. Two seconds later, he returned with a frown. “Still trapped.”
“Right,” I said with a groan. “Pass me my phone?”
His gaze flicked to my flaming hand with an expression that asked why I wasn’t releasing the fire to get it myself. I raised my brows. If I extinguished those flames, the curse would spring forward and he’d be fangs-deep inside me in a second. No, thank you.
Valentine walked to the bed and picked up the phone, holding it screen-outward. “No signal.”
I released a frustrated breath. “Right. Then I have a second theory.”
He frowned. “What?”
“Could you show me where Aunt Arianna buried her ward stones?”
“You think those are what’s keeping us trapped?” he asked.
“Mages don’t have the type of magic that affects wards.” I released the flames on one hand, slipped the phone in my back pocket, and walked around the four-poster bed, passing Valentine. “Wards are the work of witches, and they take hours to construct.”
“I see where you’re going with this.” He followed me into the marble hallway. “You think your aunt made a mistake?”
“Or a miscalculation.” I descended the curved staircase, passing the living room and trying not to shudder at what Valentine had done to me within its pristine white interior. “You admitted that the firestone bracelet was supposed to contain my magic but I overpowered it this morning a
nd boiled the jacuzzi.”
“True.”
“This new power is throwing everything off,” I muttered. “We need to unearth her wards, so they’re not tampering with the original magic your people installed when the villas were built.”
Valentine placed a hand on my shoulder. “Do you think you can reach the stones?”
I paused on the stairs and met his gaze. Every single trace of red had vanished from his irises, leaving a dark ring of indigo and a deep turquoise I’d never noticed until now.
Was this his natural eye color when there was nothing around to incite his hunger for blood? “Aunt Arianna tied the wards to my hair, right?”
He nodded.
“That means I can touch them.”
He stared down at me with something new in his eyes. They were glossy and bright and full of admiration. While we were courting, he’d always treated me as someone to protect, even from his own desires. Now, I felt like Valentine saw me as any other capable supernatural with their own powers.
Something in my chest lightened. I might have been in the biggest danger of my life, but this newfound power had awoken a confidence and pride I needed to nurture. I reached the ground floor and walked across the marble hallway with my steps light.
Valentine placed a hand on my shoulder, making me stiffen. “You can’t leave the building with your hands on fire. Nor can you allow yourself to be seen through the windows.”
“Of course.” I turned to him and smiled. “If I extinguish my flames, and my blood starts to smell—”
“I’ll go into the attic and open a window.” He disappeared with a crack of sound.
“Thanks,” I whispered into the hallway’s empty space.
Taking a deep breath, I pulled back my magic and headed toward the kitchen. Magical control was one of the fundamental classes at our academy, where the instructor would make the younger children imagine a pulse of energy flowing from the heart into their fingertips.
There was a toy called a grover that anyone could manipulate with their mind to form shapes. It felt like putty, but if you held it in your hand and concentrated, it would create streams of lights according to your wishes. It was the only way our teachers would know we were following their instructions and how I learned to channel magic I would never develop… until now.
The sun was about to set, and warm light flooded the kitchen’s marbled-tiled space, coloring its white units and stainless-steel worktops a deep orange. Ignoring my rumbling stomach, I continued past the island unit and into the dining area where I had breakfasted with Kain.
At the very end of the downstairs space, behind the wall of windows, the patio outside shone a deep orange with shadows that stretched across its paving stones.
A shudder ran down my back at the prospect of those shadows being alive, but I forced myself to remember the property’s powerful wards. The sunlight would fade in less than half an hour, and I needed to get started. Even if unearthing Aunt Arianna’s wards took all night, I still had my phone’s flashlight to illuminate my work.
I stared at the glass wall, trying to work out which windowpane was the door. Frustration welled through my insides, and I pressed my hands on the glass, expecting it to remain unmoving, but it slid to the right, letting out a swirl of cold air.
My tongue darted out to lick my lips, and I stepped out, looking from left to right for creeping shadows cast by raised beds and potted trees dotted about the yard. They all remained still, save for a line of black along the rim of the villa’s white boundary wall that rose a foot into the air. My nostrils flared. It was probably the thing that infected me with that curse. Ignoring it, I continued through the patio.
The only supernaturals capable of constructing wards were angels and demons and witches, but only witches made themselves available for hire to other supernaturals. From what I understood from our coven, witches buried ward stones in cardinal points. In the cases of smaller enclosures such as a villa with a limited footprint, they simply used the corners of their boundary.
Paving stones covered the entire space, meaning that Aunt Arianna would have buried the ward beneath one of them. I walked to the far-left corner of the walled garden, and crouched at the square slab. Between the stone and the boundary wall stretched a four-inch gap filled with gravel.
“Meow?” said a familiar voice.
My head snapped up, and I stared into Macavity’s green eyes. A breath caught in the back of my throat. “Can you come in?”
He shook his head.
I rose to my feet and stretched out my arms. “Try.”
The cat’s pupils dilated. He flattened his ears and hissed.
“Calm down.” I raised my palms. “It’s not like I’m calling you a liar. Could you just try, please?”
Macavity raised himself on his hind legs and pressed against an invisible barrier.
My posture sagged. He’d been right all along, which was a huge pity. Right now, I could use the backup of an oversized leopard. I murmured, “Sorry.”
Without a goodbye meow, Macavity jumped down onto his front paws and disappeared from the fence. I shook my head. Whoever had tampered with these wards really wanted me dead.
Returning to the ground, I hooked my fingers beneath the slab, feeling a flare of familiar magic. Triumph filled my chest. I still had some sensitivity to other people’s powers, even though I was no longer a Neutral.
The stone remained in place, but I continued pulling until a flare of power engulfed my body and twisted around my heart. It was probably the ward’s security magic, but since Aunt Arianna had incorporated my hair into her enchantment, it passed through me as harmlessly as my own flames.
Finally, the stone yielded, allowing me to upturn it and lean it against the boundary wall. Beneath it was what appeared to be solid cement, but I stuck my fingers into it anyway.
This villa was supposed to be a temporary location in case all efforts to contain my magic failed and I had to go into hiding to metamorphosize into… a fire mage, I hoped. There was no such thing as a fire witch because witches practised magic and mages focused on only one element. I certainly didn’t want to become a shifter or a demon.
My fingers sank into a cool, grainy gloop. I pushed down, leaning forward until I was elbows-deep in the wet cement and felt around for a stone.
Nothing.
“Deeper, then,” I snarled, plunging myself further into the cold substance.
The gloop sucked in my entire arm up to my shoulder, and I still couldn’t find any stone. I went in further until my entire left side lay pressed against the ground. Finally, I brushed a stone the size of my fist. I wrapped my fingers around it and pulled it out of the magical cement.
It was exactly as I’d imagined—a gray stone covered in long red strands tied into intricate knots. I put it on the side and replaced the paving stone. With one of Aunt Arianna’s wards missing, her entire enchantment would collapse. Now I needed to step outside and see if it was her additional protection or something else keeping me trapped.
I hurried through the warm house, flung open the front door, and stepped out into the villa’s tiny front garden. Dozens of people wearing black suits crowded around the metal fence, including Kain.
Slow traffic trundled past, as did passersby on their way to the bars and restaurants of Notting Hill. A black cab stood parked outside with its lights off and no sign of the driver. Since these vehicles all looked the same, I couldn’t tell if it was the same vehicle Valentine had caught at Paddington.
Kain rushed forward, his eyes wide. “What’s happening?”
“We’re both trapped within the wards,” I muttered.
Kain glanced at a blue-haired woman within the crowd, who stepped forward.
“Miss Griffin?” She sounded like the one who had placed a dressing gown on my shoulders. “Where’s His Majesty?”
“In the attic.” When the woman’s brows rose, I bit my lip. That came out more sinister than I’d intended. “Is there any way to
break through the wards? We’re having a few problems.”
Her brows drew together. “May I speak with His Majesty?”
I glanced over my shoulder. Calling Valentine while we were out in the open would be detrimental for protecting the Supernatural World. “We really need help with these wards.”
The taxi’s door opened, and a shadow poured out of the seat. Panic slammed into my chest and a shocked breath whistled through my teeth. I stepped back, hitting my shoulder on the open door. “Look behind you.”
Valentine’s employees continued staring at me as though I’d eaten their king, and nobody turned around.
Behind them, the shadow morphed into a black-haired woman wearing the black uniform of an enforcer, who stepped out of the cab as though she’d been sitting inside.
“Step aside,” she said in a commanding voice.
Finally, Valentine’s people turned around, and they made way for the enforcer. I clenched my teeth. Had they called her when they couldn’t get through the wards or was she part of the group who had come after me at the crystal shop?
The woman stood about five-ten, with pale skin, a strong brow, and sharp, high cheekbones only made more prominent by the hair slicked back and secured within her protective leather cap.
Her jacket consisted of three magic-proof panels wrapped around her middle, secured by a leather shoulder and collar brace that buckled beneath her arms and stretched halfway up her neck. Even the gauntlets covering her hands were black and stretched up to the straps of her leather brace.
I glanced from side to side at the passing humans, wondering if they were bothered by the crowd or by the same dangerous statuesque woman.
“Hemera Griffin,” she drawled in a cold voice. “Mother, Aurora Griffin—missing, presumed dead. Guardian, Arianna Griffin. Granddaughter of the wizard Napoleon Griffin, and a deceased human female.”
I bristled, partly because the woman had both accessed and memorized my records, but mostly because she hadn’t even bothered to learn Grandma’s name. It didn’t matter that she had produced two powerful witches, humans were lower than Neutrals and only tolerated as consorts or diversions.