Controlled by a Fire Demon: The Owl Shifter Chronicles Book Two

by Qatarina Wanders

  History of Magic: Basics for Beginners.

  Michael growled. “I don’t have time for a history lesson!” he complained. “I need to learn battle spells. The sort of thing the Alfred kids are doing outside.”

  Emily shrugged. She knew very little about magic or the skills needed to practice it. She did, however, know that the library was enchanted. If the library had responded to their need for a book to get Michael into fighting shape, at least, with this book, there was something in it Michael had to read. “Look, it says it’s the basics for beginners,” Emily read.

  “Yeah, as in basic history for beginners,” Michael countered. He didn’t even bother to open it. He pushed it aside and looked at the other books on the shelves. “I need something on battle magic.”

  “Maybe open it first,” Emily encouraged. She dropped her voice and whispered. “Look, I don’t think it’s a good idea to go poking around Aunt’s stuff. Let’s just make do with this book the library has literally given us.”

  Michael frowned, but he gave the book another glance.

  “Hey, think of it like this,” she went on. “History does repeat itself, right? Perhaps we can find a way to defeat the evil rove by understanding the history of magic. Who knows, you might discover an ancient spell that would solve all our problems with a snap!”

  Emily watched as the idea caught on.

  Michael grabbed the book and pulled it back to himself. “I guess I better start reading, right?”

  “Right,” Emily replied with a smile. “I’ll leave you to it then.”

  20

  This time, Emily didn’t bother with the couch. She headed straight upstairs, where she hoped to find a room with a bed in which to lay down. She didn’t bother to check the time either. She decided she was going to sleep until she could sleep no more. She needed all the strength she could get, because she expected that after they were done with dispatching the Alfreds or escaping them, they would go after her friends.

  Sure enough, Emily found a room with her name on it—literally. A sign on the door read: Emily. It was nestled between two rooms that had Rina’s and Joanna’s names on the doors, leaving Emily to wonder if Aunt Anastacia knew exactly what was coming. Was she clairvoyant? Was that part of her powers? If so, then there were a lot of questions Emily wanted to ask, like why she didn’t foresee the evil rove’s rise to power or why she let Emily’s mother go and get herself killed.

  Truth was, Emily didn’t want to go back that far into her past. She knew what happened. Her mother had sacrificed herself to save Aunt Anastacia. That was that. It was a decision she’d made. Nobody made her do it. And sure, the Alfreds were causing mayhem, but Emily was willing to let it all go. She wasn’t a fighter. She was a lover. She wanted everyone happy and good. She didn’t want the chaos and destruction the Alfreds were fetching brought upon New Haven.

  But she’d be damned if she stood by and watched it all burn to the ground. The only time she would bring out her talons to fight was when they kept threatening her friends and her life and everything she held dear—that even included her newfound brother.

  Emily collapsed into the bed in a heap. She was barely within the inviting folds of the blankets before sleep overtook her.

  The first part of her dream was a nightmare. She was back in the skies with the fire demon in control. This time, the fire demon was out of his mind. Emily watched with horror as the fire demon brought lava down on the entire town of New Haven. She saw streets boil and houses rage with fire. She heard screams and saw nothing but smoke and towering pillars of inferno.

  Emily tried to wrestle control from the fire demon. It didn’t work. Instead, it turned the fire demon’s ire on her. It didn’t make any sense, but it happened nonetheless—the fire demon turned its flaming beak on her and spewed its raging fire directly at her.

  She snapped out of the nightmare and was suddenly conscious of a cool, calming presence. She opened her eyes, but they were blurred and itchy with sleep. She had no strength to get up, but she did catch the figure of Aunt Anastacia sitting on the bed, stroking Emily’s hair. Aunt Anastacia’s voice was full of youth, as were her strong, pliable fingers. She was singing a tune that Emily had forgotten long before. A tune her mother used to sing for her when she had nightmares as a little girl.

  The tune worked, and before long, Emily settled into a dreamless sleep.

  It was the sunlight beaming onto Emily’s skin that woke her up. It was warm and strong and made her feel relaxed. Opening her eyes carefully, she took in a deep breath.

  She could feel her strength had returned. The vitality of her Owl form. She could sense the fire demon’s presence. It was a burning, raging heat in her chest. It seemed to be activated by her anger. However, the predominant presence was Selena.

  I thought you were never going to wake up, Selena muttered in her mind.

  Emily chuckled. She yawned aloud, dragging herself to the edge of the bed. She was famished. And there was an uncomfortable silence.

  She stood up, wobbled a bit until she got her bearings, and then went over to the window. The Land Rover was still parked in the same place; however, the Alfreds weren’t standing outside the dome chanting anymore. They were seated on their car, eating what looked like pizza.

  Emily caught sight of a delivery guy driving away from the house, and she laughed at the absurdity of the situation. But still, the sight of the food reminded Emily of her own hunger.

  Good morning to you, Selena, Emily muttered as she left the room.

  Morning? Selena laughed. It’s almost afternoon.

  “R-Really?” Emily stifled a yawn. She checked in her dad’s room. Happy to find that he was no longer there. No sign of him in the room, even. This meant only one thing. He was walking again. Even though she knew that the effect of the shock was only temporary, she’d had to contend with thoughts of having an invalid as a father all over again. Seeing the empty bed raised Emily’s spirits.

  When she went downstairs, the first thing that caught her attention was the open door. Through the doorway, Emily could see the Alfred kids eating atop their vehicle. Alice was looking straight through the doorway and hence caught Emily’s eyes the moment Emily walked into sight.

  Alice smiled. It was one of her trademark evil smiles. That’s when Emily knew something was wrong.

  “They broke through the outer barrier just after dawn,” said a familiar voice. It was Aunt Anastacia.

  Emily whirled around to see the gaunt woman. She was freshly dressed in a ceremonial red robe with intricate embroidery patterns. She held a cup of coffee in one hand, which she handed to Emily.

  Emily felt the urge to hug the woman. The cup of coffee was the only thing that held her back.

  “Aunt Anastacia!”

  The woman smiled. It was a motherly kind of smile. She’d always had that smile for Emily. However, for the first time, Emily appreciated it.

  “You were in my room?” Emily asked, remembering the weird experience she’d had of sensing Aunt Anastacia soothing her through the nightmares.

  Her aunt nodded.

  “That tune . . . ,” Emily muttered. A memory of Mom came unbidden into her mind. One of the many times she’d had a nightmare, and Mom had sung to her.

  “It was taught to us by our mother,” Aunt Anastacia explained. “You see, Mom was a witch, too. Although she didn’t even know for a loooong time. The curse of the two siblings came from our father’s lineage, but Mom was a witch who brought some of the blessings into our family. Like the bond that existed and exists with your mother and me.”

  Emily frowned. “Exists?”

  Aunt Anastacia nodded. “She might be dead, but she’s still very much with us.”

  “Are you saying I can talk to my mother?” Emily felt her heart rate peak.

  Aunt Anastacia’s eyes were teary now. She had a slight smile on her face as she nodded in the affirmative.

  Emily felt a cold rush through her body. The thought that she could get a chan
ce to take back all the nasty things she said to her mother the night she had died . . . Emily swallowed hard.

  “How long before they break through the internal barriers?” Michael poked his head into the doorway leading to the library. His voice broke Emily out of her reverie. She glanced behind Aunt Anastacia at her brother. He had a chunk of food in his mouth he was munching like a llama. He held a book in his hand. Behind him, Dad was seated at the chair absorbed in a book of his own.

  “Twelve hours, if we’re lucky,” answered Aunt Anastacia without turning.

  “Twelve hours?” Michael seemed impressed. “How did you accomplish it?”

  Anastacia fought back the urge to grin. “Maybe one day, when you become a master rove like your aunty, you might be able to do such a thing.”

  Emily was shocked to see the grin of excitement and pride flash across Michael’s face before he vanished out of the doorway.

  “What did I miss?” asked Emily.

  Aunt Anastacia chuckled. “Good work giving him the book about the history of magic,” she said. “It set him straight on how the supernatural race isn’t all bad.”

  “Just like that?” asked Emily, astonished. She’d been expecting a greater resistance from Michael about accepting who he really was. It had taken Emily months to come to terms with Selena. Now that the fire demon was around, maybe it would take her months more to come to terms with the newest stubborn presence.

  “Yeah.” Aunt Anastacia smiled slyly. “Never underestimate the power of a good book. Come.” She directed Emily to the living room, where a table had already been prepared for her.

  21

  Aunt Anastacia waved her hands above the food, and instantly, it was steaming again. “Eat and gain your strength. Our battle is about to begin.”

  As if to underscore what she’d said, a terrible shudder rocked through the building. The Alfreds were at it again.

  Emily didn’t so much as bat an eyelid. Nor did she look up at Aunt Anastacia and ask about the consistent battering of the house or how she’d magically warmed her food up again. She just leaned in and started eating.

  It was a bit inconvenient. As large as the cottage was (on the inside), it didn’t have a dining room. Yeah, sure, it had a library, but not a dining room. Apparently, the rove didn’t think eating was as important as the pursuit of knowledge.

  Consequently, Emily had to bend over the small stool every time she wanted to take a bite of her bacon-and-cheese omelette. There was a mug of chocolate milk—add that to the cup of coffee Aunt Anastacia had given her earlier. Aunt Anastacia wanted to pump Emily with enough caffeine to keep her attentive.

  Emily sighed. They had a big battle coming up.

  Even as she ate, and as she listened to the steady batter—it was as if a wrecking ball was coming down hard on the wall consistently—she knew that the moment the barrier came down, it was war.

  The fight was real. It made her antsy.

  And as she became more anxious, she found it difficult to eat. She looked up for a bit to see Aunt Anastacia sitting in the armchair and looking intently at her. Emily was a bit taken aback by the solid stare and the intensity of her gaze.

  Aunt Anastacia had that look in her eyes—as if she was considering a very complex scenario—a cross between concentration and determination. She sat cross-legged, her hands forming a steeple under her chin. The early afternoon sun bathed her in a golden glow, and her youth was almost startling—considering that only twelve hours earlier, she was a bent old woman.

  Emily stopped eating for a moment. “Aunt?” she stuttered.

  Aunt Anastacia murmured something unintelligible. Emily first thought it was a spell. When nothing happened, Emily questioned her, “Is everything okay?”

  “No, Emily, everything is not okay.” Aunt Anastacia rolled her eyes. “We have three powerful roves outside trying to break down the house. We don’t have nearly enough magic between us to defeat them . . .”

  Emily nodded. She was beginning to feel a sense of dread. “Surely, you’ve thought of this. There has to be a way. How about the thing you mentioned earlier? The contingency plan?”

  “The tunnel through the land of the dead.” Aunt Anastacia shook her head, but she didn’t need to. Emily knew the moment she heard the phrase that that option was a no-go. Tunnel through the land of the dead? Seriously? How could that even be a thing? That had to be a terrible idea. Still, Emily wanted to know more. “What’s that?”

  Aunt Anastacia was still shaking her head. She glanced out the open doorway onto the porch. The sun seemed to slant a bit, catching her eyes and reflecting against them. That was where Emily saw her aunt’s age on her face. Her battles. Her worries. Everything that was hidden under the guise of youth was revealed in her eyes in that moment. The woman couldn’t hide how weary she really was.

  “It’s a bad idea,” Aunt Anastacia reiterated. “An idea only to be used when all hope is lost.”

  “That’s where we are,” Emily pointed out. “We can’t defeat them. If they break through—when they break through the barrier, they’ll kill dad and arrest you, me, and Michael. Their mother will finish you off while their father skins me alive, and they’ll use Michael—however he intends to use Michael—to perform the ritual.”

  Emily waved her hands for emphasis. “The whole world will fall, and the Alfreds will establish a new order. It’s going to be hell on earth.”

  Emily paused to suck air through her teeth. It didn’t help her anxiety attack. “I say we’re pretty much at the point where all hope is lost.”

  Aunt Anastacia smiled. “You have your mother’s tenacity.”

  The statement threw Emily off balance. She was angry because Aunt Anastacia wasn’t taking her concerns seriously. But then again, she was happy that she and her mother had something in common. The way things had been between her and her mother still hurt and haunted her. And the fact that there was a chance for her to see her mother one more time—to tell her how sorry she was—was something she still grappled with.

  Aunt Anastacia folded her arms across her chest. “But no, not all hope is lost. Our current predicament does not justify the requirements to cast a tunnel through the land of the dead.”

  “Why?”

  “Because we can escape from this house and still end up screwed at the end of the day.” Aunt Anastacia sighed. “How will that justify the death—”

  “Wait, what death?” Emily interrupted.

  “It’s called the tunnel through the land of the dead for a reason.” Aunt Anastacia pinched the bridge of her nose. “Performing the spell requires a blood sacrifice. And I’m not just talking about a few drops spilled here and there. I’m talking about draining a body to death.”

  The silence that followed daunted Emily.

  “Yeah, it’s a last resort.” Aunt Anastacia bobbed her head up and down. “Because, for one, there’s not a single living thing in the house, except us humans. And even if one of us decided to lay down one of our lives for the rest of us to escape, it still doesn’t solve our problem.

  “Rina and Joanna are still in captivity. The town is still ensnared. The Alfreds are still out to get you and Michael. We’ll still be at square one. And what’s the guarantee that if we went after your friends or tried to break the snare on the town that we won’t just be walking into another trap?”

  Emily had no response to that, but she had an inkling of where her aunt was going with all this. “The Adoption?”

  A look of triumph swept over Anastacia’s face, only to vanish as swiftly as it came. “It’s the only way we’re going to win this. If you are Adopted by your Owl, your personalities will merge, and you will be unstoppable.”

  “It’s the only way the Alfreds will win as well!” Emily replied, her whole body tensed up.

  “It’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

  “Well, I’m not sure I’m willing to take that risk, considering the fact that I’m the one going through the ritual, and I’m the one more l
ikely to get killed,” Emily retorted with a slight wave of her hand.

  “We’ll all be dead within the week if we just sit on our asses and do nothing.”

  “We are not going to do nothing,” Emily retorted. “We’re going to fight.”

  “How?” Aunt Anastacia let her jaw fall slack with a mocking look on her face. “You’re barely up to full strength, and even if you were, you have barely scratched the surface of what you’re truly capable of. Your brother, Michael, is in the other room struggling with performing a simple confundus spell. Yeah, we’re going to fight and lose in the first few seconds.”

  “You have so little faith in us, Aunty?” Emily was more disappointed than offended. She expected that after all they’d been through, after all she’d done, that her aunt would be more appreciative of her. After all, the swarm of bats was meant to break the outer barrier and then the Alfreds the inner one. Based on that plan, they should all be in captivity now because the Alfreds would have been in the house already.

  However, Emily foiled that plan. She rescued them all—gave them a new lease on life, even if it was only for an additional twelve hours. Aunt Anastacia should be grateful. But no, she was whining about the Adoption.

  It may very well be our only hope, Selena said quietly.

  Emily was even more incensed by hearing Selena take Aunt Anastacia’s side.

  It’s not about taking sides, Emily, Selena hissed. It’s about what works. It’s about winning this. And the only way is the Adoption.

  The Adoption may cost your life, Emily pointed out. Aren’t you the least bit concerned about that?

  Not really—I mean, I’ve not really thought about that. And then Selena was quiet. She was thinking about precisely that.