Firestorm (Smoke & Ashes Book 1)

by D. N. Hoxa

  “Where’s the fun in easy?” she said with a giggle. “Remember? You said that to me the last time we met.”

  Ah, yes. I’d said that to her when I’d been about to crash the party of the maggots down the street, and she suggested that a bit of help from the outside would make things easier for me. Now I wished I’d kept my mouth shut.

  “And you know exactly where the witch is?”

  She didn’t hesitate. “I do. She’s in hiding right now, preparing, I think.”

  “For what?”

  “I don’t know that, I’m afraid. But like you said, it can’t be for anything good.” I hated it when people used my own words against me. Apparently, I hated it when ghosts did it, too.

  “Yeah, all right, fine.” I leaned down and grabbed the smallest bottle from the stand and stepped back. “I’ll get you the lightning. Just tell me where she is.”

  Elizabeth was over the moon and didn’t even try to hide it. She slammed her palms together, intending to clap, but no sound came out of them, which was weird as hell. The grin on her face was huge, like she’d gotten something from nothing. Like she’d played me for a fool. I didn’t like her very much at the moment but screw it. I was going to catch that witch one way or the other. The sooner I got it over with, the sooner Golden Boy would go back home with his tail tucked between his legs, and my father would get off my back.

  “She’s staying in the basement of a house on Roosevelt Boulevard, right across from Best Buy’s parking lot. The house is small, surrounded by trees. As far as I saw, nobody else lives there.”

  Aha.

  I smiled. “What else did you see?”

  As if she’d just realized her mistake, her eyes widened for a second. Then she stepped back—or better yet, slid back a step.

  “C’mon, Elizabeth. I already agreed to get the lightning for you. Don’t bullshit me.” She’d been at the house where the witch was staying. She said it herself—she saw that nobody else lived there.

  Her mouth opened, but no sound came out of it for a while. I thought I was going to have to try harder to convince her, but eventually, she spoke.

  “Crystals,” she said, her voice a bit strange, but I couldn’t put my finger on how it changed. “She had crystals in there. A bunch of pointy ones, yellow in color. I couldn’t tell what kind. They were surrounding a cluster of moonstones, I think. I’m not sure.”

  My mind raced with the knowledge I had about witch crystals. Pointy ones served to focus energy, to direct it someplace specific, while cluster crystals charged other crystals by radiating whatever energy they were infused with. Moonstone, moonstone, moonstone…

  Nope. No idea what the fuck that meant.

  “What else?” I pressed Elizabeth, but she shook her head.

  “That’s it. There might have been a twin crystal somewhere in the back. It looked like an obsidian, but it was too dark to see properly.”

  “Balance,” I mumbled to myself. Twin crystals served for balance between energies. Between different kinds of magic. Shit. This did not sound good at all.

  “That’s all I know, I promise,” Elizabeth said.

  “Are you sure about that?” I watched for a reaction, but she gave me none.

  “Yes, I’m sure. That’s all.” Her voice didn’t waver. I had no reason to suspect she was lying to me this time. And even if she did know anything else, it would make no difference. I had a location. If everything went well, within the hour, I’d have the head of the nocturnal witch in my hands, while the rest of her was on the floor somewhere, burning.

  “Thanks, Elizabeth. I’ll see you when I get your lightning.” I showed her the empty bottle and then made for the door. I didn’t see the crystal shaped like an elephant head that was right in front of me.

  “Watch out!” Elizabeth cried, but it was too late. I slammed my forehead against it, hard.

  “Sonovabitch!” I hissed, holding my forehead, while the stupid elephant head flew forward and came at me again. This time, it hit the back of my hand, but it still hurt like hell. I ducked down as if it were a maggot coming to bite me in the neck.

  “Are you hurt? Let me see,” Elizabeth said, reaching out her hands to me, but I jumped back, still keeping my head down.

  “No, it’s fine. I’m fine, I’m good!” I practically ran around the couch and out the door.

  I was so done with that creepy place, and I was never going back in there again.

  7

  It wasn’t even three p.m. yet when I parked my car in the parking lot right across from the house where the nocturnal witch was supposed to be. I turned the engine off, lit up a cigarette, and scanned the area. Not much traffic on the street that separated the lot from the houses, which was a good thing. There were another three houses that I could see to the sides. Those could be problematic, but if the witch was really in the basement like Elizabeth said, then those people wouldn’t hear anything.

  The crystals bothered me, though. I had plenty of textbooks back home, but trying to figure out what that witch wanted to do with moonstones and obsidians was going to take days—and there would still be a chance that I’d get it all wrong. The possibilities were endless. Witch magic is like art—if you’re good at it, creative enough, you can mix anything with anything and get the results you want.

  Not to mention Lexar, who could be on his way to the house while I sat there in the car, listening to music. It was only a matter of minutes now. Minutes, and I’d have the head of the witch, and her soul would be on its way to the Underworld. She’d probably be chained like an animal and forced to follow the Reaper into the rest of eternity like those other souls from last night.

  And Lexar would be back home, too, handing me my freedom back.

  With that thought in mind, I turned the music off and stepped out of the car. My knives were in place, my fire burned under my skin, and I was as ready as I was going to get. Witches could be nasty with their spells and their chanting. They couldn’t cause proper damage to me, but it still hurt like a bitch to be hit with blasts of magic. Keeping my fire as a shield proved difficult because I couldn’t see anything when I did that, even though no magic I’d ever come across had been able to penetrate through it. I would do just fine with my knives and my kick-ass skull-bashing skills, though. I’d been doing this for a long time now.

  That’s why I walked across the street with my head up, not an ounce of fear in me.

  The house looked quiet enough. I walked around it once, just to see if I had company, if somebody else was hiding there, waiting. Being caught off guard was never a good thing, especially when I was up against all kinds of creatures and magic. I also wanted to see if there were any humans nearby I needed to watch out for.

  Nothing. All my stars were aligned already.

  The front door was an old thing—the entire house was old. Dark wooden walls, cracked everywhere, cobwebs at the corners, garbage on the porch. Even the front window was cracked right in the middle like somebody had thrown a rock at it. I tried to see in through it, but thick blinds were drawn all the way. I put my hand on the doorknob after making sure that there was no kind of weird powder on it—witches did that sometimes to protect their property—and the door opened. That was certainly surprising.

  It was obvious that nobody lived here. The few pieces of furniture scattered around the living room were all covered in white sheets. I could barely see anything—all the blinds in the entire house were drawn. My heart picked up the beating when I stopped in the middle of the foyer and waited, knives in hand. The suffocating silence almost whispered that there was something wrong with this place. The last thing I needed was another house with weird sounds coming out of everywhere.

  Ten seconds in, nothing happened. Nothing attacked me and I couldn’t hear anything, so I moved. I checked the rooms as silently as I could. My footfalls still made a bit of sound, but if anybody heard, they decided to keep away.

  When I made it to the basement door, I expected to meet some resistance,
but I didn’t. That scared me a bit, I’ll admit. A spell would have given me an approximate idea of what I was dealing with. As it was, I was in the complete dark—figuratively and physically. There was darkness down in the basement. Now I understood why Elizabeth had had trouble seeing anything here. This witch really didn’t like light.

  Taking in a deep breath, I gathered my shit and stepped on the stairway, arms up, knives ready. I might have not had enhanced senses like traditional shifters did, but I did have incredible reflexes. I wouldn’t even need to think about it—if something came at me, my body would know exactly how to move. I’d love to say that I’d received some special training for it, but I hadn’t. It was just my nature, as Daddy Dearest explained it to me. I was a born predator, and if I was smart and careful enough, anybody in the world could be my prey.

  Good thing I didn’t believe half the shit that came out of that guy’s mouth. Stuff like that tends to get to your head fast if you let it.

  Just a tiny bit of blue light was coming from somewhere to the left. The stairway turned toward it abruptly about halfway down. At first, I couldn’t make out anything other than the shimmers of the crystals spread all over the ground. Some of them were glowing blue, but no other light was on in that place. The air was heavy, thick—as if infused with some unseen energy. Magic felt like that. It charged the air with raw energy as it worked to alter reality—and it made me a bit dizzy at first.

  That’s why I almost missed the witch sitting cross-legged smack in the middle of the room.

  Her side was turned to me so all I saw was her profile. Her hair was a mess of tangles going in every direction. Her dark dress wrapped all around her knees, her eyes were closed and she…wasn’t breathing. She wasn’t moving at all. The blue glow of the crystals fell on her face and chest so I would have seen movement. She definitely wasn’t breathing—the crystals around her looked more alive than she did.

  But if she were dead, how could she sit like that, cross-legged, hands on her knees, chin up?

  No, she wasn’t dead. She was probably in the middle of some spell, though her lips weren’t moving, either. It was the perfect opportunity for me. All I had to do was throw one of my knives, then get down there and cut her head off. Easy peasy.

  I pulled my arm back, slowly, soundlessly, thinking how easy it would be to hit a perfectly motionless target. This must be my lucky day.

  But when my arm was all the way behind me, the tip of the blade between my fingers, the witch opened her eyes. Impossible to miss it because I was looking right at her, aiming for her temple. Her lips stretched into one of the most wicked smiles I’d ever seen, very similar to my father’s. I froze—I can’t even tell you why. Just something about the look in her eyes when she slowly turned her head toward me, and I could swear she still wasn’t breathing.

  The second’s hesitation cost me. The magic hit me like a gigantic slap in the face and sent me flying back. The back of my thighs hit the stair railing behind me, and I fell. My head hit the floor of the basement hard. It was a miracle my skull didn’t crack. I couldn’t feel half the pain from the adrenaline that had taken over my body, but when I jumped to my feet, black dots took over my vision. Half the stairway separated me from the witch still, and I took cover behind it to give myself a second to breathe and plan.

  I had obviously underestimated her. Lexar hadn’t been kidding—she was very powerful. With a spell like that, she could knock me out cold and finish me off easily.

  Like hell.

  Taking in a deep breath, I made sure my knives were still in my hands, and before I could start to feel the pain on the back of my head, I stepped to the side of the stairway.

  The witch was standing now, in the middle of her crystals, arms spread wide to her sides, eyes to the ceiling. I didn’t hesitate this time. I ran straight for her, dropping one of my knives on the way to call for my fire. My fingers ignited, and I really hoped that I wouldn’t need my whole arm up in flames because I’d just changed my goddamn hoodie. Jumping over the cluster of crystals surrounding the witch, I reached her in no time and wrapped my blazing fingers around her neck.

  That was supposed to be the part where she screamed bloody murder. Her skin was burning, and the heat would melt…

  Wait. Her skin wasn’t burning.

  I was touching her, my flames bright and orange, licking her neck, and she wasn’t burning. What the…

  For now, I held the surprise and the confusion on the inside and the tip of my knife was an inch away from her right eye. That was going to hurt, no matter what the hell kind of spell this woman had on her.

  Except, before I stabbed her halfway to death, light exploded from her torso. It pressed onto my chest like a huge physical punch and threw me back. After the initial attack, I was expecting it, so I didn’t fall back on my ass again. I gritted my teeth and locked my muscles, but I still stumbled over the crystals that sprawled everywhere as I went through them. I couldn’t see what was behind me. It was completely dark, just like Elizabeth said, but not for long.

  The bright blue light that had exploded from the witch’s chest hadn’t been just that. It had taken shape—a very specific shape that was looking right at me. It was made out of thin air and an electric blue, deeper than Lexar’s lightning strikes, that drew the outline of what initially looked like a snake with scales all over its body.

  But it wasn’t a snake. His head was all wrong, like the head of a dragon, with spikes over the top, huge eyes with slit pupils, and the biggest fangs I had ever seen on his jaw. His tongue slithered out to show me that it divided into three at the tip, and it was freakishly long.

  My body froze completely as realization kicked in. I’d only ever seen one of those before, and from far away, so it hadn’t been as scary as this guy, but I knew exactly what he was: an evil spirit.

  Now I understood why my father wanted this woman dead. This is one of the many reasons why nocturnal magic is considered…well, dark. It’s powerful, destructive, and it can go as far as to latch onto an evil spirit straight from the depths of Hell and bring it back up here. That’s something even the Fallen didn’t want happening. Evil spirits had unlimited power over pretty much anything. They were bad news all around. They could wreak havoc among the living like nothing else, and this guy was more than free to do whatever the fuck he wanted by the looks of it. His body was coming out of the witch’s chest still, like they were linked together, like she was his portal to this world—something I’d know more about if I’d actually listened to my father when he explained it to me.

  But Daddy’s lessons would have to wait now that the snake-slash-dragon spirit was coming for me while the witch still stood there with her arms to her sides, staring at the ceiling, mouth wide open. Dropping the other knife, I called to my fire, no longer concerned with the sleeves of my hoodie. Heat poured out of me from within, like every cell in my body burst into flames simultaneously. My skin could take heat like a motherfucker, so all I felt was a little tingle as the fire spread onto my hands, over my knuckles and up to my wrists. Hellfire was like a cross between liquid flames and gas, but the best part of it was that I could manipulate it with my mind and get it to take any shape I wanted.

  Right now, I wanted it to impersonate a thick wall right in front of me. The evil spirit’s slit pupils were barely inches away from my face when my fire spread in front of me rapidly, burning brighter every second. The spirit’s head slammed right into it.

  I thought that would be the end of it. There was very little out there that my fire couldn’t kill upon contact, but apparently, evil spirits were one of them. Had Daddy mentioned that? No idea. My boots slid back on the floor while the evil spirit pushed against my fire shield with all his strength. My teeth were gritted and I pushed back, but it was no use. I didn’t stop sliding until my back hit a wall I couldn’t see.

  Everything came to a halt.

  Maybe it was the end?

  The growl on the other side of my fire shield ruined that wish
. Taking the shield down meant giving the evil spirit an opening, but I still needed to see where he was so I could direct my fire properly. A missed shot could cost me my life just as easily, so I did the next best thing: I sucked my fire back inside me and practically fell to the side. I rolled on the ground, jumping to my feet almost at the same second.

  It was definitely not the end of it. The spirit was already coming for me, mouth wide open, fangs as big as my entire arm snapping in front of my face. My fire spread in front of me without any specific intent again, other than to block and attack. Yes, I was scared shitless, but I was also very excited. Maggots never made me sweat like this, and this guy was definitely making me burn those extra calories from last night.

  I moved back, holding my fire shield in front of me, but the spirit kept on coming. Apparently, it could extend as far as it wanted from the witch’s chest, and even if I made it out of the basement altogether, it would follow me. Good thing that wasn’t the plan. I kept my eyes on the blue light that shone almost as brightly as my fire and moved to the side, spreading my fingers out in front of me to give direction to the flames. It moved the exact way I needed it to. Looking more like an ocean wave than actual fire, the shield separated into two and spread to the sides of the evil spirit while he came for me, roaring. I held my arms out to the sides, and I gritted my teeth and waited for him to get extra close and personal. Much easier said than done when every instinct in my body wanted me to back off.

  A whoosh of air pushed my hair back, and the spirit opened his jaw wide, ready to bite my entire head off. I slammed my arms closed in front of me with all my strength. My fire slammed onto the spirit’s sides just as fast as I moved.

  The spirit roared once more, this time so loud that the strength of the sound alone pushed me back. My heel caught on something, probably a crystal, and I fell back on my ass because my hands were busy holding the fire wrapped around the body of the spirit. I didn’t look away from him and didn’t try to get up, just watched in awe as he roared and growled and moved to the sides, trying to break free, pushing my fire away with his own magic—and it was working. I could see my flames pale in comparison to his blue light for a split second before I pushed back.