by Linsey Hall
I wasn’t even technically killing him. When a demon died on earth, their body disappeared and they woke up back in whatever hell they’d come from. Eventually, he’d probably make his way back to earth.
In a way, this was a win-win for both of us. Or at least, not a major loss for the demon.
In the sky, Bree and the giant beast fought, darting around and clashing violently. I looked back to the ground, where my fight was happening.
Two of the demons had grabbed the young men and were holding them, but they weren’t actually hurting them. I frowned. Were they holding them for the monster that Bree was trying to drive off?
Another demon lunged for me, sword raised. His skin was a pale gray, and he was about six inches taller than me. His horns were a pale white that matched his long fangs and claws. I dived low, narrowly avoiding his steel, my reflexes practiced and quick. I’d worked my ass off at this when I’d realized my magic was gone. If I didn’t have power, I’d sure as heck be the fastest, most skilled fighter.
On the ground, I rolled onto my back and popped up onto my feet, swinging my sword for the demon. It sliced toward his middle, but he sucked his stomach in, dodging my blow.
“Lucky bastard.” I grinned, darting toward him.
I moved so quickly that his yellow eyes widened in surprise. Then I swiped my blade across his neck. Blood sprayed, and I ducked.
Still, it hit me in the forehead, warm and sticky and gross. I was fast, but not magically fast. Avoiding arterial blood spray was almost impossible. It was one of my least favorite parts of the job.
I kicked the demon in the chest so he fell backward, then whirled to face the fight.
The shadow at the edge of the square moved.
A man stepped out.
Power hit me in the face, magic so strong that I gasped.
And his face.
He looked like a fallen angel. One who’d gotten in a brawl as soon as he’d hit earth. Dark hair waved around his face, and his lips were full, his eyes a brilliant blue. His perfect nose was just slightly crooked, as if he’d broken it once or twice. The flaw should have made him look less divine, but somehow, it didn’t.
And his body. Holy crap, with those arms, he could break a semitruck in half. He had to be six and a half feet tall, if he was an inch, his shoulders broad and his waist trim.
Time seemed to stop as I looked at him, shrouded in shadow. His magic rolled out from him in waves, complete with every signature in the book. It lit up all five of my senses, something so rare that only a few supernaturals possessed it. It meant he was strong. Really strong.
His magic tasted of fine whiskey, burning the back of my throat. It smelled of cedar, fresh and bright, and sounded like the roar of a waterfall. Rarest of all was his aura. Supernaturals almost never had auras, but his was gold, and shaped vaguely like ancient armor, covering him from neck to knees. It shimmered in front of him, there but not, one of the strangest and most fabulous things I’d ever seen.
But strongest of all was the feel of his magic. It felt like a caress against my skin. Almost like a kiss. I shivered, trying not to lose myself in the feeling.
This was a fight. One that I wouldn’t lose.
I turned away from the man, ignoring the tugging sensation I felt pulling me toward him.
He could be a bad guy—he might be fighting on the side of these demons, after all—but I’d have to deal with him after I took out the massive red demon who was bearing down on me like a freight train. The monster was at least seven feet tall, and covered in so much muscle that I wondered how he wiped his own butt.
Ew. Gross. Focus on the fight, Rowan.
The demon’s magic smelled of blood and gore and felt like needles piercing my skin. From the feel of his signature, he was as evil as they came. He raised a hand, magic sparking around his massive claws, then hurled a blast of fire at me.
I dived low, feeling the heat streak across my cheek, and drew a potion bomb from my sack. It was bright green, the glass gleaming in the light of the street lamps. I rolled onto my back and hurled the bomb at him just as he threw another fireball.
I scrambled right, taking a hit to my left hip. Pain flared hot and fierce. But the demon shrieked.
Nailed him.
I rolled over to see him flailing, the acid eating its way to his heart. It was a nasty potion bomb, one that I wanted to keep perfecting until it killed more quickly. I didn’t like the suffering, even though I used them on demons, who probably ate kids or something horrible like that.
Well, maybe if he was a kid-eater, he should suffer.
I shoved the ridiculous thought away and scrambled to my feet, searching the square. Bree continued to fight off the giant monster, while the two demons held their human captives.
More demons had appeared from the rooftops, but the man from the shadows was taking care of them quickly. As I watched, he strode up to one, not a single weapon in his hand. Was he an elemental mage? Maybe he’d hit him with lightning or something.
But nope.
He got close to the tall gray demon, who swung a wicked-looking sword at him. The man dodged the blade, then reached up and tore the head right off the demon.
“Holy fates!” The words escaped before I realized. He fought like a freaking gladiator.
“I know, right?” The words sounded from out of the blue, but I couldn’t see anyone.
What the heck? I looked around, but saw nothing.
Maybe I was imagining them. I was too busy watching the man, anyway. Somehow, he managed to dodge the arterial blood flow. I reached up and touched the demon blood that had now cooled on my forehead.
It was impossible to dodge arterial blood spray. It was too fast.
Not as fast as this guy, though, who clearly had to have some kind of magical speed.
He charged around the square, taking out demon after demon. More appeared, two of them so close to me that I had to turn my attention from the gladiator to fight off the monsters that would kill me as soon as look at me.
I spun to face an oncoming demon. He was too close for a potion bomb—no way I wanted to risk getting hit by the splash—so I raised my sword. “Come and get it, big guy.”
He grinned, his yellow fangs making my stomach turn. He’d have breath like dead bodies, I’d bet a crate of double chocolate cookies on it.
He raised his blade, and we clashed, steel against steel. I dived and parried, narrowly avoiding a slice that could have taken off my leg. He had strength and reach on me, but I had speed. I struck for his sword arm, cutting deep.
He roared and dropped his blade, his green eyes flaring with rage. He raised his other arm, revealing a hand tipped in massive claws, and swiped at me.
I jumped backward, feeling his claws swoosh past my face with only a centimeter to spare. I dodged forward, sinking my sword into his gut.
He gurgled this time, hissing an obscenity that sounded something like “-iserable -unt.”
I could only guess where he was going with that, but frankly, I didn’t care. Instead, I kicked him in the stomach to dislodge him from my blade and spun to face the fight again, triumph welling within me.
I was too late.
A demon was only feet away, moving so fast that I couldn’t get my sword arm up. He grabbed me by the neck, cutting off my air. I gasped, but the air caught in my throat.
Panic swelling in my chest, I raised my sword to strike. He knocked the blade away with his free arm, and the steel clattered to the cobblestones. It was the most terrifying sound I’d ever heard. Losing my weapon while in the grips of a demon. He raised me into the air. I kicked my legs, struggling to break free, and stared death in the face.
2
Acid-green eyes glared out from a pale-white face. Silver horns reached for the sky, decorated with black scrollwork. His fangs were four inches long, dripping with saliva. And his magic bubbled with evil, feeling like a bath in hot oil. My skin burned fiercely all over.
I reached for the dagger at m
y thigh, but he grabbed my arm. Shit.
I tried with my other hand, but he was unnaturally fast, grabbing that one also so he gripped both in one huge fist.
My lungs burned and my throat ached, feeling like it would be crushed at any moment. Frantic, I searched for Bree. She was still fighting the winged monster, locked in a battle from which she couldn’t escape.
The man—the gladiator—was taking out other demons. Not like I could count on him for help anyway.
Fear iced the blood in my veins as panic beat its fists against my ribs, my heart going so fast I thought it would burst.
The demon continued to squeeze, his green eyes studying me.
“You’re strange,” he said.
So? I wanted to say. Of course I was strange to a demon.
And I was about to be dead meat. I felt like a rat caught in a trap, visceral panic streaking through me. Primal and so fierce. I thrashed and kicked, but it did no good.
He could squeeze the life from me any second, but he didn’t. It just made my panic worse.
I reached deep for the telekinesis that I’d once possessed. Before my captivity with the Rebel Gods, I’d been able to control any object with my mind alone. Since my escape, I hadn’t been able to access it. There was a spark of it deep within me—I could feel it there—but nothing I did allowed me to access it.
It sat low in my belly, dormant. Leaving me to die.
Tears rolled down my cheeks. My lungs were on fire, my limbs turning weak.
I reached for it one last time, desperate to call it to the surface. But I got something else, instead.
Something dark flared to life within me. Not my telekinesis, which was a good magic. A neutral magic.
No, something dark rose up in my belly. Something that suited The Vaults. Something that reminded me of what it felt like to walk down these quiet streets alone and feel at home.
The darkness rose within me, surging through my limbs and my mind. The demon’s eyes widened as he stared at me, confusion filling their acid depths.
I was just as confused as he was.
But the magic kept coming, dark and sick. It made my stomach turn as it flowed through me. I swore I could feel it glowing out of my eyes. I might vomit it out any second.
Terror like I’d never known iced through me, far worse than the fear of death at this demon’s hands.
There was something wrong with me.
I was full of dark magic.
It wasn’t just the tug of enjoyment I felt when I walked in the dark magic district. I was full of it.
“You’re one of us.” Fascination sounded in the demon’s voice. “Your soul is ours.”
“It’s not.” I wanted to scream the words, but I couldn’t even croak them. The magic kept filling me up, ready to burst out of me.
“It will be. The darkness grows, eating you from the inside. I can feel it. Soon, it will devour you.” He sounded excited, like he’d never seen anything like it before.
I’m not one of you!
Then it did.
The demon’s face lit with a bright light. It had to come from my eyes. I could feel them glowing weirdly. It made no sense, but I could feel it.
He gasped and dropped me.
I sucked in a ragged breath, my lungs burning.
But the magic still filled me, dark and sick and horrible. It pushed at my skin, trying to break free. The feeling was so bad I’d take death over this.
I had to get rid of the magic.
Instinct made me raise my hand and grip the demon’s throat. His eyes widened, terror glinting in their green depths, and he froze.
Or did I freeze him?
I didn’t know. All I could do was shove the magic out of me. I pushed it out of my chest, out of my body, forcing it into the demon.
“Don’t do this,” he begged. “You’re one of us.”
“I’m not.” My heart thundered. The dark magic poured from me, flowing into the demon. It made my head spin.
His skin turned gray, darker and darker, and the acid light left his eyes.
“Soon.” The word whispered past his lips. Then he turned to dust, crumbling at my feet.
I gasped and stepped back, horror welling within me.
How had I done that?
What was that?
Mind roaring, I looked up.
And met the gladiator’s eyes. Shock gleamed in their blue depths. Shock and suspicion. Around him, the bodies of demons lay. He’d killed almost every one.
The two remaining demons who held the young men captive took one look at me, their faces paling. Then they dropped their captives and ran, sprinting into the darkness of the alley behind him.
The gladiator gave me a look, then he stared after the demons, clearly unsure of who to chase.
Wait, was I a bad guy now?
Would that gladiator hunt me?
Just as the terrifying thought streaked through my mind, Bree landed in front of me, covered in blood, eyes wild.
“We’ve got to get out of here.” Her words snapped out, a whip.
I glanced at the sky. The winged monster was gone.
Before I could look back at her, I felt her strong grip on my wrist. She tugged, sprinting down the alley and dragging me with her. I gave the gladiator one last look, then ran for it, racing behind Bree.
She was right.
Whatever had happened there, it was bad news.
I was full of dark magic, and the gladiator had seen. He was clearly fighting on the side of right if he was killing the demons. If he worked for the Order of the Magica—the magical government that oversaw all magic users like mages and witches and warlocks—he could report me.
I would be thrown in the Prison for Magical Miscreants if anyone knew I had a power like this. It was pure evil.
My heart thundered as I sprinted away from the scene of the crime. I caught sight of three small shadows against the wall—some kind of small animals, I thought—but they were gone in a flash. Bree and I raced down the darkened cobblestones, turning right onto the main street and downhill toward the exit of The Vaults. We had to get back to the Grassmarket and get to the portal that led to the Protectorate castle.
Only there would I be safe.
But would they accept me back if they knew what I was becoming?
I’d felt something dark inside me ever since I’d come back from my captivity. Had it been this? Had I brought it with me?
Soon.
The demon’s last word echoed in my mind. I’d become one of them soon, my soul devoured.
Holy fates, that sounded bad.
“Almost there,” Bree panted.
“You could fly, you know.” The words cost me what little breath I had, and I nearly stumbled.
She huffed a laugh. “As if I’d leave you.”
Warmth filled me, just a spark to provide light in the darkness of what my soul was becoming.
We passed bars and shops, dark magic spilling from them. Not all were evil, but all definitely walked the line with the law. Mr. Amos waved at me from the window of his pygmy toad shop as we raced by, sprinting for the exit.
We ran out, entering the enchanted bookshop that acted as the secret entryway.
“Don’t knock anything over!” the house shrieked as we hurried through the shelves stuffed full of books.
No one actually lived or worked here—the house itself was enchanted to dissuade people from entering The Vaults—but I never wanted to piss it off.
The night was cool and dark as we exited the enchanted bookshop, spilling out onto the end of the main street in the Grassmarket. This was where all the regular, not-evil supernaturals in Edinburgh lived and worked. It didn’t stink of dark magic or feel like spiders crawling across my skin, so it was a major upgrade compared to The Vaults. Old, three-story buildings lined the cobblestone street and housed bars and restaurants, along with a few shops. Apartments sat on the top floors.
The sound of bagpipes drifted toward us from somewhere far a
way, and the shouts of revelers in the pubs spilled out of open doors. Spring was coming, and even supernaturals were happy to welcome the warmer temperatures.
“What the hell was that?” Bree demanded as we hurried down the street, desperate to reach the portal that would take us straight back to the Protectorate castle.
“I don’t know.” I could barely catch my breath, a combination of exertion and fear.
“Let’s just get back.” She turned down the alley where the portal was located, and stepped right into the glowing blue hole in the ether. Only Protectorate members could see it and enter it, and I was grateful every time that I stepped in and the ether sucked me through space, taking me home.
I followed her, praying that it would work this time, that I wasn’t so evil that it would evict me.
I wasn’t, right?
Thankfully, the ether sucked me in as normal, but I swore it felt the tiniest bit strange. Like it didn’t want to, at first.
We arrived in the enchanted glen in silence. The Protectorate castle was located on the far north coast of Scotland, a massive structure surrounded by a huge wall. Within the wall was an old fae forest where the magic made it possible to have portals to the outside world.
Bree led the way through the twisted old trees. Fairy lights floated on the air, twinkling between the branches and tree trunks. By the time we exited the forest and reached the main castle lawn, tension thrummed across my skin.
A half moon shined on the huge castle that sat in the middle of the grounds. Towers and turrets speared toward the sky as the mullioned glass sparkled in the darkness. I’d only lived there for six months, but I loved it like my forever home. Who wouldn’t?
But if the Protectorate leaders found out that I now possessed such dark magic? They might evict me.
As if she didn’t want to speak of my new magic out in the open, Bree hurried across the castle grounds in silence. We crossed the rolling hills and approached the huge castle. The large wooden doors swung open to admit us entrance, and we climbed the steps to the entry hall. Two huge sweeping staircases led up to the second floor, and we took the steps two at a time.