Night Magic: A Wing Slayer Novel

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Night Magic: A Wing Slayer Novel Page 7

by Jennifer Lyon


  “Don’t you dare defend her.” Darcy shifted her gaze to the others. “Silver actually said that since we know the baby is a boy and a witch hunter, and that his father was a rogue, Carla is trying to help a future rogue.”

  Sutton stood up so fast, his chair shot backward.

  Key reached out and caught the chair.

  “Sutton, it’s okay,” Carla said gently. “We’re handling this. And before you starting yelling, my mother already did enough of that.”

  Sutton’s massive shoulders lowered an inch. “Okay, yeah. Your mom won’t let that bitch get away with saying shit about you.”

  Carla covered up a grin by saying, “Mom and a few other witches have agreed to help if we have no other choice. Maybe”—she turned to Phoenix—“if this power thing in Ailish’s voice is true, we will have enough strength between us.”

  “If it is true,” Key asked, “then how did Quinn Young know about it, but not you witches?”

  Phoenix’s biceps began to burn around his tat. Quinn Young had Asmodeus’s Immortal Death Dagger burned on his forearm. They weren’t exactly sure what powers he had, but that Death Dagger gave him the ability to kill immortals like Axel and Sutton for sure. They assumed he was in contact with the demon as well. Young was the leader of the Rogue Cadre whose mission it was to kill off all earth witches so that Asmodeus could have free rein on earth. So yeah, it was strange that Young knew, but he defended Ailish by saying, “Ailish swore the power is hers, that she was born with it.”

  “She handfasted to a demon, Phoenix,” Axel said. “She could be working with Asmodeus, using her voice to enhance witch blood and making the rogues stronger to kill off the earth witches. If she is, it’s clever because we can’t kill her while she’s still an earth witch.”

  The burning sensation grew worse on his arms.

  “I sent out a query to the Circle Witches …”

  Carla’s words faded out beneath a strange cracking noise that echoed in Phoenix’s head, followed by a vivid memory of a bird soaring across the sky. Then he heard the beautiful cry of the newborn child, and as if that cry were a detonator, flames roared to life around him, burning and consuming him. He could smell his feathers burning, feel the flames eating his flesh, until finally, he was gone.

  Phoenix realized his eyes were closed, and branding hot pain seared his biceps. He opened his eyes.

  Axel, Darcy, and Key were on his left, Sutton and Carla on his right. They all stared at his arms.

  Axel shifted his gaze to his face. “Did you hear the voice?”

  “No.” The burning faded on his arms, but he twisted his left arm and looked at his tat. “No fucking way.” The original single wing had reshaped itself to a blue head, beak, neck, and top of a bent wing rising from an outline of red-and-gold flames.

  Phoenix shoved up to his feet, and everyone moved back. “What the hell is going on?” His heart was pounding as though he’d just killed half a dozen rogues.

  Axel responded, “The tat reacted to my comment about killing Ailish. It’s coming out, trying to protect her.” He glanced at the new markings, then added, “You touched the witch’s blood last night. The tat must have recognized her. The soul-mirror bond requires an exchange of blood and then sex to seal it.”

  Ailish was his soul mirror? He’d envisioned his soul mirror being a witch like Darcy or Carla. Good, kind, willing to sacrifice to help others. His soul mirror would be a woman of courage, and together they’d be stronger. He’d have a mate he could protect and help to do her magic.

  He wouldn’t fail with a mate like that. A real partner.

  A blind witch who had bargained with a demon? How the hell could he protect her from blindness? Or the handfast? He sure as hell hadn’t been able to save his mom from the voices. It was a recipe for failure. He’d be forever trying to take care of her, to save her.… “Can’t be her. She handfasted herself to a demon.” In spite of that, his head throbbed. The tat pulled and itched, as though it wanted him to move. Go.

  To her.

  Shit, he didn’t want this.

  But his tat didn’t have the same reservations. The markings vibrated in the skin over his biceps, quivering with the need to see her, be close to her. He rolled his neck and said, “Is it even possible to finish the soul-mirror bond if she’s handfasted to a demon?”

  Darcy answered first. “Not sure. We’ll see if we can talk to the Ancestors and find out. We’ll also try to find out about this voice power.”

  He had to be satisfied with that for now. The Ancestors should have some answers; they were witches who had reincarnated over and over until they completed their journey, learning all that they were meant to. At that point, they no longer reincarnated but stayed in Summerland to act as guides for witches. Summerland was the place of rest for both witches and witch hunters … if they still had their souls. Right now, he thought helplessly, the handfast binding on Ailish put her soul in limbo.

  Axel broke into his thoughts. “We need to know more about her, and keep her from using her voice power until we know what it is and what it’s doing.”

  The need to get moving was building to an unbearable pressure. “She was adamant that she had to use her power to break the handfast so that Asmodeus doesn’t get control of it.”

  Carla said, “Make her a deal. Tell her we’ll research breaking the handfast if she’ll cooperate and not use her voice.”

  A cautious hope forced its way into his roiling emotions. “Do you know how to break it?”

  Both witches shook their heads, and Carla answered, “No, and if any witch in the Circle Witches has done it, they aren’t going to want to admit to it.”

  He had no choice: He had to find Ailish and get answers.

  Ailish sent Dee home and went into her house. Seeing Kyle had brought back memories of being young and in love. That left her annoyed and restless. She hadn’t really expected Kyle to believe her. But it still was irritating. How did she protect him now? She didn’t know how to get past the magical block shielding his memory.

  Using her voice power was too dangerous. She had only hummed in an effort to release a small amount, and it had shaken the windows. Ailish remembered all too well what had happened when she’d unleashed her power to save Haley—she’d hurt her mother. Not to mention blinding herself from witch karma. Damn it, she had to get control of that power.

  She dumped her backpack on the table by the front door, then headed over to the coffee table to pick up her cold tea and the bag of dried fruit and nuts she’d left there. She’d get something to eat, then regroup.

  She wasn’t going to let her mother get her claws into Kyle again. So she’d find a way to protect him, while figuring out how to control her voice power to get the blasted binding off and break the handfast. After rinsing the mug, she put it in the dishwasher, stowed the nuts, and—

  A sharp cry jerked her around. What was that? She held her breath, waiting.

  Another whimper, then pitiful mewling.

  It was coming from her backyard and sounded like a hurt or scared animal. Maybe a cat? She walked across the room to the French doors.

  There it was again. Definitely from her backyard. It reached right through to her heart. Maybe a kitten had wandered away from its mother?

  Could it be a demon trick?

  The critter cried out again, a thin, pitiful sound that made her head ache in sympathy. The little guy must be really hurt. She reached for the door handle, unlocked the door, and eased it open a couple inches. She didn’t smell sulfur, so she stepped out onto the patio.

  She followed the yelps and cries over her patio toward the grass. “What’s wrong, little guy?” she said softly.

  It whimpered.

  She moved closer, then crouched and used her hand to pat the grass in front of her until she felt the bony back of a kitten. But it darted away from her and cried some more. She started to open her chakras to send calming energy to the poor thing. “It’s—”

  “Hello? … Ma’
am?” a male voice called out.

  Ailish jolted in surprise, turned, and stood up. The voice came from the other side of the fence by the gate. “Yes?”

  “I think our kitten is back there. My daughter was playing with her and dropped her. The kitten ran under the fence.”

  “Uh …” She tried to think. He sounded young to middle-aged and a little harried. She caught the faint scent of paint fumes.

  The kitten cried again.

  The man said, “That’s her. Is it all right if I come back there? Or could you bring her to me?”

  His voice still sounded harried, but a little sheepish, too.

  “Careful, though,” he added. “She sounds hurt. She’s only a couple months old.”

  The kitten was crying frantically now. Ailish knew it was in pain. She needed the man’s eyes to help the poor animal. “Come on back,” she said.

  “Thanks.”

  She heard the gate open and the man walk toward her. “Name’s Bruce, by the way. Took a couple days off work to paint the living room. Ah, there she is.” He moved past her.

  The kitten screeched.

  Ailish winced. “What’s wrong with her?”

  “Ah, hell, it looks like her leg. Must have landed on it. I don’t know … guess I’ll take her to the vet or … She’s in so much pain.” He came back to stand by Ailish, shifting nervously.

  The paint fumes were stronger, nearly burning her nose. She could make out his shadow, and he was big, under six feet but meaty. There was a heavy feel to him. She took that in, but her focus was on the kitten. “Which leg?” Reaching out, she felt the man’s hand.

  A flicker caught her nerves and raced through her body. The handfast link heated, forcing more excitement pulsing through her. It took her breath away for a second.

  Bruce grabbed her arm. “I’m done playing with you, witch.”

  She stiffened as the sensations of forced pleasure raced up her arms and through her body, making her nipples harden, her skin heat, and her womb ache. The pain infuriated her. “The paint fumes,” she snarled, “disguised the sulfur.” She took stock. He had his left hand on her arm, while the right hand had the kitten. “Give me the kitten. At least—”

  “In the house. Now.” He shoved her.

  “Hell, no, I’m not—”

  The kitten screeched.

  “Its leg is broken, want me to break another one?”

  The ache of the painful forced lust throbbed in her, but the pure hatred howled in her head. “Bastard. Stop hurting her!” The poor kitten was whimpering.

  “In the house.”

  It didn’t matter. She wasn’t giving in to him. She could take him down in the house, she just had to get him off his guard. Asmodeus had never shown this side in his possessions before … they had always been a kind of seduction, not this brutality. She turned and walked across the yard and patio, going through the doors. What if she didn’t invite him in? Could he still …

  He walked right in behind her, the animal still crying.

  “Thought I had to invite you,” she muttered.

  “You did. You said, ‘Come on in,’ in the backyard.”

  Amusement snaked through his voice. She wondered if the man who was being possessed really did live next door.

  She stalked past the table to the open area at the end of the kitchen/dining room. It was a little study with a desk and a reading chair and light. She whirled around.

  He was three feet from her. “There’s no escape. You will submit.”

  His voice was losing its human quality; a chilling growl vibrated beneath the words. Fear iced her spine, but the lust kept roiling inside her. She hated the way the bastard controlled her body and made her feel something artificial and revolting. Ailish couldn’t even trust her own body.

  “I’ll kill the animal, first I’ll finish breaking its legs and then I’ll slice its throat.”

  Furious adrenaline whipped through her. She couldn’t let the cat be killed. If she did, then she was as vicious and cruel as her mother. But if she gave in, she’d lose her soul.

  “Next will be Kyle. My coven will torture him until you submit.”

  God, she hated all of them! She had to think. What should she do?

  The kitten continued to cry.

  She gritted her teeth, fighting to get control of her body, of the unnatural lust and hot, sick fury. “You win.”

  “Take off your clothes. Now.”

  “Just let me heal the kitten’s leg. I can’t stand the squalling.” She zeroed in on the crying sounds, then snapped into action. She grabbed the kitten, jumped back, and tried a hopping side kick, attempting to drive her heel into his solar plexus.

  He caught her foot and jerked up, and she landed hard on her back. Her head hit the ground so hard that she heard a roaring in her ears.

  The kitten screamed in terror and crawled away.

  The hand was still wrapped around her foot. He squeezed hard through her boot. “Done playing, witch. You’re mine. Your power is mine. I’ll shatter every bone in your body until you submit to the Claiming Rite.”

  It was the man’s voice, but with a strange reverberation that sent chills down her spine and made her magic cringe. It was Asmodeus taking more control of the mortal.

  The growling-roar in her head stopped, but more pain shot up the nerves in her leg. Sweat broke out under her arms, while the lust pulsed in her pelvis. Unbearable.

  After yanking her across the carpet, he began to climb on top of her. She fought, twisting her body.

  He slammed his elbow into the side of her breast.

  Sharp pain seared through her, taking her breath away. Hot tears burned her eyes. But she’d trained to deal with pain and forced her mind past it. This guy was huge and trying to climb on top of her. Much as she didn’t want to hurt the mortal, she was going to have to use a groin strike. Her power would heal it once she had banished the demon. She waited, feigning compliance as he loomed over her—

  Her front door exploded open and slammed into the wall. A huge shadow filled her damaged vision, and before she could react, the man was jerked off her.

  Someone else was in her house! Who? Was it real help or another trick? The vivid sounds of fighting and grunting seemed like help. She rolled to her feet, trying to get a read on what the hell was happening.

  “Ailish, on the floor at two o’clock. Banish the demon!”

  It was the witch hunter from last night! Phoenix. What the hell was he doing here? Did she dare trust him?

  Did she have a choice?

  Suddenly, Phoenix was behind her. “Hurry.”

  His voice blasted through her already raw nerves, but she focused past the pain to call the energy from her pelvis floor, funneled it up her spine and through her hands. And all the while, lust and desperate aching need pounded at her. Her stomach growled in hunger, her leg was half-numb, and her left breast was so sore that just holding up her arm was agony. In a sharp contrast, she could feel the hunter behind her, looming over her, and making her acutely aware of a horrible barren feeling of incompleteness that echoed inside her.

  The man on the floor of her living room sputtered and spewed rough sounds.

  Finally the cloying, sickening scent of sulfur exploded around them, then vanished. She dropped her arms. “He’s gone.”

  The silence behind her felt heavy. The hunter’s hot breath stirred her hair. She shuddered as tingles ran down her spine. Her head throbbed from a mean combination of hormones being forced through her, banging her head, the effort of controlling her magic, and the huge presence of Phoenix.

  Wait, why was he here now? Just in time to save her? What if Asmodeus hadn’t been banished but had jumped to him? She whipped around, bringing up her arms and assuming her fight stance in spite of the pain.

  “You’re fucking kidding me,” he snapped. “I just saved your ass and you want to attack me?”

  “How do I know you can’t be possessed?”

  She felt him shift his weight
. “Your bigger problem at the moment is my bloodlust. Your power is still zinging through me.” He stalked past her.

  His scent caught her. Leather, soap, and musk. No sulfur. She heard Phoenix pull the guy up from the floor.

  “Hey!” the man said, his voice thick.

  “Who is this guy?” the hunter asked.

  She had to pull herself together. “Not sure. While possessed, he said he’s Bruce and lives next door.”

  “I do, but why am I here?” His voice started firm, then slid into confusion. “Hey, that’s my cat. She’s hurt. What did you do to my cat?”

  The kitten! Ailish bent down, ignoring the protest from her leg, and held out her hand. The crying little girl put her head in her hand. She scooped her up. She wasn’t any bigger than a coffee mug. “Have to use more magic.” She cradled the kitten to her middle, closer to her chakras, then opened the first four and sent healing energy into the cat. It took every last bit of strength she had to do it.

  Finally, the crying stopped. Ailish breathed a sigh of relief. She was sore, dizzy, starved, and depleted with a lingering headache from the unnatural hormone rush.

  “What the hell?” the neighbor said. “What’s going on? How’d I get here? What are you doing to my cat?”

  Ailish stood up and hissed at the hot stab of pain in her leg. She took a step toward them.

  Phoenix’s voice stopped her. “I’ve got this, Ailish. Just give him the cat.”

  She held out the animal, and Bruce took him while saying, “I don’t understand.…”

  “I’ll explain,” Phoenix said while moving to the door, obviously tugging the man with him. Once outside, she heard Phoenix say, “Your kitten got into the neighbor’s house. You came over, got her, and went home.”

  A few seconds later, she heard the witch hunter striding back into her house. She asked, “What did you do?”

  “Memory-shifting. He was confused as hell, I gave him an explanation. What do you usually do?” He shut the door.

 

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