Blood Magic: Witch’s Bite Series Book Three

by Foxe, Stephanie

  “Olivia, do not ignore me,” Reilly says with a low growl.

  I glance back and hold my finger to my lips, then tip the diamond powder into the cauldron. He sounds angry, but he looks like he’s in awe as he watches the magic dancing around both of us. I’m sure he can feel it. Even a human could feel all of this.

  The diamond powder hits the liquid and the brew begins to sing. It’s not audible, but I can feel it down to my bones. This is why the crystal cauldron is so beautiful. None of the metal cauldrons can sing like this. It’s so perfectly clear. My magic rushes into the cauldron and I throw my head back and raise my arms. This brew doesn’t need to be stirred or prodded, it only needs my full attention and my full effort.

  I feel like a conductor, and the magic is my orchestra. My fingers dance through the air tugging on invisible strings of magic. I lean over the cauldron and watch as the bright petals twist down into the shimmering liquid one by one. Each petal makes the brew brighter until it’s like looking into the sun itself.

  I push the magic to its crescendo, higher and higher and higher until it’s just right. I bring my hands together and the clap thunders around the room. The brew stills instantly, but the brilliant light of the brew only grows stronger.

  I’m panting like I’ve just run a mile, but I could keep going for hours if I needed to. I missed brewing, no other magic has ever made me feel so alive.

  I turn to Reilly slowly. “Sorry, I think you asked what the fuck I was doing?”

  The look of awe disappears from Reilly’s face and he clenches his jaw. “You stole my car and my credit cards and disappeared. So yes, I would like to know what the fuck you are doing.”

  I gesture at the cauldron. “I needed to brew this.”

  “And what, exactly, is that?” He demands.

  “It’s going to end the curse affecting Corinne,” I say, crossing my arms and waiting for the inevitable objection.

  Reilly stays silent though, considering. “Curse-ending is advanced magic.”

  “You’re not the first person to tell me that today,” I say straightening my shoulders and squaring my jaw.

  “Why do you think you can brew something like that?” He asks.

  I drop my arms and throw my hands in the air. “Everyone misunderstands brewing. I’m sure you think most hedgewitches follow a recipe?”

  Reilly nods.

  “Well, that’s crap. Brewing is magic. It’s my magic. If you think about what you need, about what ingredients can give you what you’re looking for, the magic will do the rest. You just have to trust your intuition and trust the magic.” I point at the cauldron. “You need the right equipment, and you can’t always get it. But when you have it, I mean look at this brew. You can feel it, can’t you? It’s perfect.”

  Reilly nods again, but slower.

  “It is—magnificent,” he says. “But that doesn’t mean it can end a curse.”

  I rub my hands down my face. “I felt the curse. I understand it. I know this will end it. No one is going to believe that, apparently, but I know it.”

  Reilly stares at the cauldron for a few moments. “I’m starting to think you might be a bit unstable.”

  I roll my eyes and turn back to my makeshift workstation and flip off the burner. I need to get this in the vials before it cools.

  “How’d you find me?” I ask as I ladle the brew into the first vial.

  “My car has a GPS tracker on it. Not that I ever expected to have to use it,” he says, his tone more exasperated than angry now. “What the hell were you thinking?”

  “I thought I’d have more time before you found me,” I say with a shrug. “Did you wake up before sunset or something?”

  “Yes,” Reilly says tiredly. “Something felt off.”

  “So, are you going to try to stop me from giving this to Corinne?” I ask.

  “No.”

  I look up, surprised. “Really?”

  He raises a brow at me. “Did you want me to?”

  “No, of course not.” I stopper the vial and grab the next. “You just said you didn’t believe me and that I seem unstable though.”

  “You’re most likely insane,” Reilly reiterates. “But I want to see if this works.”

  “And you’re willing to risk Corinne’s life to do that?” I ask, annoyed. He’s letting me get my way and he’s still finding a way to piss me off while doing it.

  Reilly shrugs. “I doubt it will kill her. There’s certainly a chance it will fail, but that’s not the same thing.”

  I turn back to the cauldron and fill the final two vials. Corinne should only need one, but I’m bringing all of it just in case.

  “If you want to see if this works, I might need some help getting to Corinne,” I say hesitantly.

  “Why? Ivy is angry with you, but you aren’t banned from the hospital.”

  “I called Elise and told her what I was planning on doing on the way here. She said she wouldn’t allow it, so I assume she has also told everyone else in case I come try,” I say with a grimace.

  Reilly puts his face in his hands and takes a deep breath. “You are painfully honest when you should lie, and yet you keep secrets that could get you killed.”

  “Does that mean you’re going to help me, or not?”

  21

  I press my back against the wall and wait, listening intently to Reilly’s footsteps as he walks down the hall. It’s only Cook in her room right now. I can’t hear what Reilly says, but after just a few moments, both of them leave the room and the door clicks shut behind them.

  I hurry to the door and open it just far enough to peek in, just in case. The room is empty except for the figure laying on the hospital bed.

  Corinne is pale as death. She has a cannula under her nose and IVs in both arms. I think it’s the first time I’ve ever seen her face without even the hint of a smile on it.

  I glance down the hall one last time, which is still empty, and pull the door quietly shut behind me. I have the vial unstoppered before I reach her bed. I have to walk around to the left side because of the machine they have set up on the right by her head. I can see her steady heartbeat on the screen, which calms my nerves some.

  I remove the pillow from behind her head and lower it gently onto the bed. I’ve given brews to dozens of unconscious neckers, so I have the technique down pat. As long as she can breathe, she can swallow. Even in her sleep. I tilt her head back, tug her mouth open, and hold it, which is a little tricky to do one-handed.

  I move the vial over her mouth, letting the lip rest on her bottom teeth. I don’t want to spill a single drop.

  “Get the fuck away from her.”

  I jerk and look up, almost spilling the brew. I hadn’t even heard the door open.

  Ivy is standing in front of me, her gun drawn and pointed at my face. Her lips curl back, baring her teeth. She is furious.

  She is also going to shoot me. There’s no way around that. I pull on my vampire magic and pour the potion into Corinne’s mouth. Everything goes slow. The crack of gunfire, my hand clamping over Corinne’s mouth and nose to force her body to swallow, the hot pain of the bullet hitting my shoulder because I can’t quite dodge it.

  Corinne swallows and I barely have time to lift my hand from her face before the magic explodes out of her in a violent, bright burst. Ivy and I are both thrown back. I hit the window and it cracks. I can’t see anything but spots, I didn’t shut my eyes in time.

  All of my other senses swim into focus. Corinne’s heart is still beating, faster now than it was before. Ivy is groaning and pulling herself back onto her feet. I press back against the window and blink rapidly, trying to see again. My left arm doesn’t want to move, but the pain in my shoulder hasn’t hit me yet so I try not to think about it.

  I hear something else though, something I can’t identify. The hair on my arms stands on end and I throw myself to one side away from the wall. Something slithers past me and hits the window with a wet smack. It reeks of decay and emana
tes a dark, oily magic.

  My vision begins filtering back as I crab walk backward away from the undulating mass of darkness that is hugging close to the window. Thick snake-like protrusions are waving in the air and creeping toward me.

  Gunfire cracks behind me and I flinch, thinking for a split second that I must be the target again, but the window shatters and the black thing screeches in indignation as it falls onto the floor.

  I scramble for another of the vials in my pocket. I don’t know if my brew can completely kill this thing, but I’m hoping it can slow it down.

  “Eyes!” I shout as I throw the vial at the curse. Even with my eyes shut the flare of light is painful. Magic fills the room until the air is thick with it.

  I open my eyes and search the room, but I don’t see the creature. I stand hesitantly, glancing at Ivy. She’s searching for it as well. I pull the third vial out of my pocket and sniff carefully. The same oily scent is still there underneath the smell of lemon and flowers.

  “It’s not dead yet,” I whisper.

  A black mass flies out from under the bed, headed straight for me. Water splashes against the creature and cuts through it like a knife. It falls to the ground in pieces, each of them writhing and flailing.

  Ivy runs over and empties another container of holy water on the pieces. Each one shrivels under the assault until it dissolves into a coagulated mess.

  I stumble back until my I hit the wall and try to catch my breath. It’s dead. I look over at Corinne. She’s still unconscious, but her heartbeat is perfect and she’s breathing without struggling.

  “Holy water, huh?” I ask.

  “I always carry it on me. Turns out the main threat today was just you,” Ivy says angrily.

  “I knew I was right,” I say through gritted teeth as I slide down the wall with my hand on my bloody shoulder.

  Ivy stares at me, gun still in her hand, the empty container in the other.

  “I don’t trust you. You are reckless. You could have been wrong today, and you could have killed her,” she says coldly. “You weren’t prepared to fight that—thing.”

  I push healing magic into my shoulder, forcing the bullet out slowly and painfully. Once it’s poking out of my shoulder, I grab it and pull it the rest of the way out. It’s still hot from the gun, or perhaps just from my blood.

  “I don’t care what you think of me,” I say through the harsh breaths I’m taking. “Corinne will live.”

  Ivy glances at her. “She’s still not waking up.”

  “She won’t until her magic recovers more. I took almost all of it.” I take a deep breath and work on healing my shoulder again. I’ve lost a lot of blood and I need to stop the bleeding before I pass out and end up admitted to the hospital. The healing magic is warm and soothing, but it can’t dull the pain of the wound.

  Ivy finally puts her gun back in its holster and walks over to Corinne and inspects her hands and arms.

  “All the black is gone,” she says.

  The last of my worry slips away at her confirmation. My shoulder finally stops bleeding and I let my hand fall into my lap. It still needs healing, but that’s enough for now.

  The door opens and two hospital security officers enter with their guns drawn.

  Ivy raises her hands, saying something about being a federal agent. I don’t bother moving, I just let my head fall back against the wall and try to appear non-threatening. They argue back and forth for a few minutes, but Stocke arrives before long and the officers are sent away.

  She looks at me, obviously shot, the missing window, and Ivy who is unrepentant with her arms crossed as she stands next to Corinne.

  “What the hell happened?” Stocke demands.

  22

  The chair I’m sitting in squeaks if I move, so I’m trying to hold very still. Stocke is pacing at the front of the conference room table. Her suit is wrinkled and she can’t seem to stop fidgeting with her hair. She pauses, opens her mouth to say something, then shuts it and begins pacing again.

  The door opens and Reilly walks in. He takes the seat to my right and folds his hands comfortably in his lap. Everyone else is still at the hospital with Corinne. Stocke had insisted they stay with her, just in case she woke up. She had dragged me back to the JHAPI building to yell at me though. Considering Ivy was still eyeing me like she was considering shooting me again, I didn’t really object.

  “I have worked for JHAPI since it’s inception,” Stocke says, crossing her arms and staring out of the window. “I was the first team lead ever appointed and the first choice for this assignment. And in twenty-four hours one person has compromised the entire thing not once, but twice.”

  She turns and presses her fists to the table, her eyes boring into me. I resist the urge to slump down in my chair or look away. I’ll accept that the first choice, the one that got Corinne hurt, was reckless. I won’t apologize for giving her the brew though. I’ve said all of that to Stocke already, so I keep my mouth shut.

  “It’s hardly compromised,” Reilly says. “Your team is still intact and we’re closer to finding Martinez than ever.”

  Stocke glares at him. “She almost got our Finder, one of only three that work with the entire organization, killed.”

  “She didn’t force Corinne to violate policy. That was her decision,” Reilly says, leaning forward. “Olivia then saved her life, despite resistance from your other agents.”

  “I am going to do everything in my power to have both of you removed from this team,” Stocke says, her lip curling up like an animal baring its teeth.

  “You won’t succeed,” Reilly says leaning back in his chair. “But I can arrange for you to be removed if you’d like.”

  Stocke shifts back onto her heels. I think she would kill Reilly right now if she thought she could get away with it.

  “I don’t think it would have mattered when Corinne tried to Find him,” I say. No matter how angry she is, I need to get this out.

  “Excuse me?” Stocke snaps.

  “That curse was going to activate no matter who tried to find him, and no matter when,” I say.

  “So now you’re an expert in curses? Are you an enchanter as well? Is there any branch of magic you can’t use?” Stocke gets louder and louder with each question until she’s shouting at me.

  I stand up and shove my chair back. If she wants to shout, we can shout.

  “I know that you can’t prevent a curse from activating unless you know what triggers it. I know that a curse that doesn’t require physical contact is insanely rare. It’s ancient magic that has been banned for centuries because it was blood magic.”

  Stocke crosses her arms. “Blood magic, meaning blood sacrifice?”

  I nod. “All magic, but especially enchantments, are limited by what the witch can do. I don’t know how blood magic works, they don’t teach anyone about it anymore for obvious reasons, but we all learned about the horrible weapons it was used to create. Those things are supposed to have been destroyed, but they weren’t. Not all of them.”

  “So, you’re suggesting that Martinez is using some kind of a cursed object to keep himself from being Found?” Stocke asks.

  “Yes,” I say, pulling my chair back in close and sitting down heavily.

  Stocke begins pacing again.

  “How many times can this curse be triggered?” Reilly asks.

  “What?” I ask turning to face him.

  “Corinne tried to Find him, and she was cursed. Can this object, or whatever he has, protect him forever? Or will it eventually be used up?”

  “I have no idea,” I say. “It’s possible it could trigger more than once, but I don’t know that for sure.”

  “That’s not something we can risk happening again,” Stocke says. “Finding Martinez is off limits.”

  “I do think he was close by,” I say quietly. “Maybe not close enough to actually see me, but he was watching somehow. I think he wants to watch me die if he can’t, uh, have me.”

  R
eilly stiffens behind me.

  “Have you?” Stocke asks, brows pinching together. “Like he has a crush on you?”

  I rub hands over my face. “The way he was talking to me, it was like he was flirting with me again. He said he wanted to see me dance and he keeps trying to convince me to quit trying to stop him and join him instead.”

  “He knows you’re a witch, why would he try to recruit you?” Stocke asks.

  “The first time, when we were in that basement, he said I could still be redeemed if I stopped using magic,” I say, picking at a chip on surface of the table.

  “That’s odd,” Reilly says thoughtfully. “I’ve never heard the NWR use language like that before. They’ve always spoken of paranormals as abominations.”

  I shrug. “I’ve never heard it before either. I think he might just be insane though.”

  “Who have you given that phone number to?” Stocke asks. “Your JHAPI issue phone.”

  “No one,” I say shaking my head. “I’ve barely used the thing. I haven’t even talked to anyone other than the team since I left Texas.”

  Stocke glances at Reilly, then back at me.

  “If you are lying about this, you could be putting everyone in jeopardy.”

  I turn to Reilly and throw my hands up. “Tell her I’m not lying.”

  “She’s not lying,” Reilly says drily.

  Stocke rolls her eyes. “You’ll have to pardon me if I don’t take him at his word where you are concerned.”

  “How else could he have gotten my number?” I ask. “Is there some kind of database? Is it public information?”

  Stocke purses her lips and thinks. “There is a directory. It wouldn’t be all that difficult to access if someone really wanted it.”

  “Well, there you go,” I say sarcastically. “I have no interest in chatting with Martinez on the phone. I did not somehow secretly slip him my phone number.”

  Reilly taps his fingers on the table. “This is an opportunity.”