Forged by Fire: An Urban Fantasy Novel (Blood and Magic Book 6)

by Danielle Annett

  He swung a katana with a two-handed grip. Shit. I swung back but his reach was longer.

  Pain seared my left arm and I hissed.

  A quick glance down showed a thin bead of blood. Just a scratch but I’d have to be careful.

  With a weapon that was twenty-four inches long, he was going to have the advantage if I relied solely on my blades.

  I dipped low, avoiding his strike, and countered with a swipe across his midsection. My blade met resistance. Armor of some sort. Damn.

  I dodged a fist aimed for my jaw and danced out of striking range.

  He smiled.

  “Is that all you’ve got?”

  A chorus of enraged snarls surrounded me.

  I didn’t respond to the barb. Instead, I faked left while spinning right and sank my dagger into his trapezius muscle—where his neck and shoulder met.

  Blood spurted from the wound and I twisted, sinking my second blade into the back of his knee. He dropped to the ground.

  I pulled both of my blades free and made a vicious cut across his throat and moved on, not bothering to wait for his body to hit the ground.

  When it did, he wouldn’t be getting back up.

  The second man had stood by and watched, eyes now wide with apprehension.

  I walked toward him, my steps sure and steady.

  He turned around and ran. Coward.

  I didn’t bother chasing after him. As long as he stayed out of my way, I couldn’t care less where he went.

  Bullets tore through the open space. I ducked behind a stone column as bullets sank into the concrete beside me. A shifter’s howl of pain had me gritting my teeth and peeking around the edge of the column.

  Three shifters were on the ground bleeding from multiple gunshot wounds.

  They didn’t get up. Silver. Shit. Shit. Shit.

  Where was he? I scanned the roofline. There had to be a—there! Nestled beneath an alcove was a lone sniper.

  Gotcha.

  Calming my breathing, I focused on the rifle in his hands.

  Steel bent and then snapped. The rifle fell useless to the ground. With an invisible hand, I ripped the soldier from the roof by his vest and let him plummet to the ground.

  He screamed, and then the sound abruptly cut off.

  No mercy.

  I’d have nightmares tomorrow. The things I did, the number of deaths I’d be responsible for, they’d come back and haunt me. I wasn’t a natural-born killer, but revenge was something even I took pleasure in.

  And right now, at this very moment, I was the grim reaper, coming to collect as many black souls as I could find.

  I dove back into the fight.

  I sliced and stabbed again and again at every opponent I faced, ducking and dodging as bullets whistled past, and blades struck out. Muscle memory kicked in and despite each hit I took, I kept going.

  A bullet tore into my left shoulder and I screamed but managed to stay on my feet. Spotting a second sniper, I used my pyrokinesis and lit the roof all around him on fire, leaving him only one way out.

  He had to jump.

  Spotting the shifters beneath him, I decided to keep going. They’d take care of him when he got desperate enough to make the leap.

  Some of the H.A.C. soldiers were armed, but guns were expensive and ammunition was near impossible to find post-Awakening. Most of the soldiers were forced to fight with blades and their fists. They were at a severe disadvantage against the shifters who fought with tooth and claw.

  I pushed through the throng of people, sinking my blade into anyone who got in my way. The Pack would take care of the crowd. My job was to find my mother and to eliminate any psykers who remained loyal to her.

  I stepped inside a wide dining hall. The fight was outside and the building was near empty. I cleared the room and headed for the stairs. Declan and I had gotten separated but that was to be expected. He needed to focus on the soldiers outside. When it looked like victory was a sure thing, he would find me.

  Declan’s roar shook the walls. His beast was having fun.

  I climbed the steps two at a time.

  Reaching the landing, I cleared the first three rooms in search of my mother.

  She had to be here somewhere. Knowing her, she was just biding her time until she could make a quick and clean escape.

  A man jumped out of a darkened corner and I struck out with my dagger on instinct. The blade sank in between the third and fourth ribs. He punched me in the jaw and I reeled back.

  Wind tore through the hallway. An aerokinetic.

  “You don’t have to do this,” I said.

  He ripped my dagger from his chest and flung it to the side.

  Blood dripped from the wound, but he didn’t look like he had any intention of stopping.

  He stalked toward me, a murderous expression on his face.

  Alright, it was like that then.

  I used my telekinesis to return my blade to my hand before I pulled my fire to me and coated my blades in the flames, letting them lick up my forearms.

  “Come on then.”

  I picked up speed, spun, and struck out at the psyker. Time slowed, each second stretching out as my vision sharpened. Wind whipped my hair.

  He had no weapon in his hands, only the air he manipulated around us. A blast of frigid air slammed into me, pushing me back.

  I gritted my teeth and pushed against it. Each step took effort. My flames dwindled.

  “Is that all you’ve got?”

  Another burst of wind slammed into me, forcing the air from my lungs and leaving me gasping for breath.

  Two could play at that game.

  I created a bubble around myself. A blend of energy and flames that coursed around me in a protective shield.

  I pushed from the wall. Air pressed against me, but my bubble held it at bay. The man’s eyes narrowed. I kept walking.

  He moved his arms around himself, pulling on the currents, and then brought his hands together into a pushing motion in front of him.

  A storm formed before him. He shoved the wind toward me and it slammed into my shield before slipping past, forming a V as it streamed from his palms and swept to my left and right.

  I was only a few feet away now.

  I charged.

  Stab, slice, punch, kick. He dropped the wind and dodged each one of my attacks.

  I made to stab at his left flank. He danced out of range and it was moments like this when I wished I had a sword.

  I whirled with a high kick and hammered my boot into his jaw. He staggered back.

  Hadn’t seen that one coming, did you?

  Before he could recover fully, I lunged and sliced across his midsection. Fabric tore, but the cut was too shallow to cause much damage.

  I drove him further down the hallway, striking as fast as I could. Stab. Slash. Strike.

  Fire and telekinesis thrummed through my veins, vibrating through me like an electric current. I pulled both forward and stabbed at him with both energies, piercing him through the chest.

  He cried out and fell to his knees.

  I punched him in the jaw and watched his eyes roll into the back of his head. He crashed to the floor. I checked his pulse. Still alive.

  I wasted precious seconds contemplating what to do next.

  “Don’t get up,” I warned. I stepped over his body and kept moving. Jason could thank me later.

  There was only one door left at the end of the hallway, and I headed straight for it.

  17

  I opened the door, the hinges silent, but I hadn’t needed to bother being quiet. She’d been waiting for me.

  Dressed in a knee-length navy pencil skirt and a plum-colored blouse, she looked like she was heading to a business meeting, not overseeing a shady-as-hell organization focused on the destruction of all things paranormal.

  Despite myself, I paused and looked at her. Really looked at her.

  Her hair was twisted into a tight knot atop her head and a pair of reading glasses r
ested on the bridge of her nose, not that she needed them.

  My mother had perfect vision—the glasses were just for show.

  She didn’t look very different from when I’d been growing up. Her casual jeans and cozy sweater had been replaced with a power, but the woman beneath looked the same. Same eyes that warmed when she looked at me. Same rich brown hair that matched my own.

  I could almost lie to myself and say she was getting ready to leave work. Getting ready to come home. But it was just that—a lie.

  Because the mother I remembered and the woman standing in front of me were different sides of the same coin. The same yet so very different.

  “Hello, Mother.” I stepped further into the room, ignoring her briefly as I took in the space for any hidden threats.

  Nothing. No one else was in the room.

  That was … unexpected.

  She smiled in my direction before focusing on the battle that raged outside her floor to ceiling windows. We had a full view of the death and destruction unfolding before us.

  I stopped beside her and considered her for a moment, unsure of how to proceed. A quick glance at her hands confirmed she was unarmed.

  Did she think I wouldn’t hurt her? I didn’t want to. But after everything she’d put me through, was she really so ignorant? What did she expect? A happy mother-daughter reunion?

  “You kidnapped my friend.” I said into the empty space between us. Might as well get right to the point.

  “I did.” Her lips turned down, almost as though she regretted her actions. “She was useful.” She didn’t look at me.

  Was? What did she mean by she was useful? Did that mean —

  No. I cut off the thought before it could even form. Melody was here somewhere. She had to be.

  “Where is she?”

  My mother turned to face me, her eyes narrowed in consideration. “What does the Harpy mean to you?”

  I chewed my lips, unsure of how to answer. Melody was one of my best friends. I would do anything for her. Die for her, if it came to that. But some niggling feeling told me I shouldn’t tell my mother that.

  “You got what you wanted.” I spread my arms wide. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

  She directed her gaze back to the windows. “What do you see, daughter?”

  I sighed and looked outside.

  The shifters had overwhelmed her men. Most were down. Blood was everywhere. I spotted Declan in his between form as he ripped a man in two before flinging both parts away from him.

  I flinched at the brutality of it, but I felt nothing. No remorse. No guilt. These men were my enemy. I couldn’t afford to feel remorse. I couldn’t afford to let my mother’s game get the better of me.

  “I see you losing.”

  She smiled and something about it made my blood run cold. There was no warmth in that smile. It was the calculated gaze of a predator.

  “I see a carefully-coordinated distraction. And I see my daughter, cut off from the rest of her allies.”

  My gazed narrowed. I took in her profile, full of haughty arrogance, and looked back at the scene before me. Spotting the little details I’d missed at first glance.

  The handful of men still on the rooftops. Armed with rifles but not firing.

  The cluster of men standing beside the doors I’d only moments ago walked through with ease. A heavy bar now rested over them with a steel lock, one thick enough that even with a shapeshifter’s strength, it couldn’t be easily broken.

  Trapped.

  She’d trapped me inside with her. Why?

  And if she’d wanted me here, why had I been met by an aerokinetic just outside these doors?

  I cursed. A game. This was all a fucking game to her.

  I fingered the glass in front of me. Just because the door was locked didn’t mean —

  “Ballistic grade glass. Shatterproof and able to withstand heavy fire.”

  My fingers curled into a fist but I refrained from punching the window.

  “It won’t keep them out,” I told her. “It won’t keep him out.” Declan would find a way inside. When it looked like the tide had turned in our favor, he would come find me.

  She shrugged. “Maybe not. But it will buy me the necessary time needed to see this through.”

  Fire licked my fingertips as I turned to face her fully. “I’m no willing victim.” I palmed my daggers, letting my fire sheath their blades.

  No reaction. No flicker of worry. No hint of fear.

  She was like ice.

  “I asked you what the Harpy meant to you. Perhaps what I should have asked was, what are you willing to sacrifice for her life?”

  The wall behind her shuddered before shifting to expose a hidden room. She turned and walked through the now-exposed doorway. “If you want to see your friend. I suggest you come along,” she called behind her, not bothering to see if I’d follow. Because of course, I would follow her.

  Urgh.

  I flicked one last look outside. Battle still waged but Declan had stopped. He stood immobile in the center of the courtyard, as though my frustration had caught his attention. His emerald green gaze locked on mine.

  Worry coursed through the bond. He’d seen my mother and he knew, just as I did, that none of this was playing out as we’d expected.

  I dipped my head toward the doors I’d come through. His head whipped around toward them and I watched as he shifted back into his human skin, gloriously naked but covered in grime and blood. A frown marred his face. His brows pinched and his lips a flat line.

  His mouth formed a single word. Wait.

  I shook my head. I couldn’t. I wanted to, but —

  A scream pierced the quiet room and I jerked toward the doorway my mother had walked through.

  Another scream. “Melody!”

  Unthinking, I ran. Declan roared behind me, the sound muted through the thick glass panes.

  He would find a way inside.

  I just hoped it was quick enough to save me from whatever it was my mother had planned.

  The scene brought me to a halt. Melody stood before me in a glass cylinder, submerged to her neck in a thick viscous liquid. Her midnight-colored hair hung in limp strands around her face. Her hands were chained to the walls, a series of tubes jutting from her arms. Bruises covered her arms and legs. Her wings pressed tightly to her back in the too-small space.

  “Melody?”

  Wide eyes met mine and she struggled in the pool of liquid, her movements frantic as the liquid surged higher up her neck. In minutes she’d be completely submerged. She’d drown.

  “Aria. Help!” Her frantic shout was muted behind the glass and she thrashed against her bonds.

  She tilted her head back, her breathing ragged and her chest heaving. “Get me out of here. Please get me out of here.”

  I rushed to her and pressed my hand against the glass before jerking it away. It was like ice. She had to be freezing in there.

  I whirled around, searching out my mother and found her just behind me, her hand on a control panel and a smile on her face.

  “Carbon tetrachloride,” she said. “A colorless, volatile and very stable chlorinated hydrocarbon.”

  I gaped at her.

  “I’d wondered what to use and then it came to me. Did you know that Carbon tetrachloride acts as a refrigerant, suppressing the central nervous system? She’s been in it long enough that her liver and kidneys are degenerating despite her natural reiterative abilities. Dropping the temperature has helped her feel the effects.”

  She shrugged like it made no difference to her that Melody was suffering. Dying.

  “One of her IVs pumps a small dosage of combustible fuel into her veins when I push this button.” She indicated a small red square on the switchboard before her. “When it reacts with the carbon tetrachloride that’s absorbed into her system”—she paused for dramatic effect and I wanted to throttle her—“it’s like fire in the veins.”

  Anger clogged my throat, making it hard to g
et the words out. “Why are you doing this?” My brain raced for a solution, a way to get Melody out.

  I needed a way to break the glass.

  “You’ve proven time and time again that you need sufficient motivation to see reason. Here it is.”

  I ground my molars together. I would kill her for this.

  She pressed the button again and Melody screamed but this time the fluid got into her mouth and the scream was cut off by a choking sound that cut through me.

  “Stop. Make it stop. You’re going to kill her!”

  I smashed my fist against it, but nothing happened. It didn’t even shudder.

  Telekinesis surged through me and I wrapped an invisible hand around her throat. “Make it stop or so help me—”

  She lifted her chin. “You’ll what? Kill me?” She choked out the words. “Do it. By the time you figure out a way into that tank, it will be too l—” Her words were cut off and her face darkened to a nice shade of red.

  I glared daggers at her, watching her eyes bulge and her skin darken.

  Her delicate hands rose to her throat, clawing at the invisible bonds.

  I could do it. I could kill her right here. Right now. And be done with it. But …

  I turned back to Melody. Her head was fully submerged, eyes wide and bubbles of air escaping her mouth.

  I released my mother and she collapsed.

  “Drain it. Now!” I demanded.

  Without a word, she staggered to her feet. Pressed something on the control panel and leaned forward for what I could only assume was an iris scan. Great.

  The liquid began to recede, slowly. Way too slow.

  Melody thrashed and kicked off from the bottom, trying to get air but her bindings held her in place. “Hurry up. Come on.”

  My mother coughed behind me but I ignored her.

  When Melody’s mouth finally reached air, she sucked in a breath and started hacking and choking.

  “I’m going to get you out of there.”

  She nodded, but her shoulders slumped in defeat, her head lolling to one side.

  “Get her out.”

  My mother rubbed a hand over her throat. Bruises now marked her creaming skin.

  “You’re in no position to make any demands,” she chided.