Night Magic: A Wing Slayer Novel

by Jennifer Lyon

  “You’re the daughter of a demon witch.” His voice was rigid with hatred and shock. He pulled his fingers from her hair. “What changed your mind? What made you decide not to go into the family business?”

  His anger was palpable. But so was hers. Hadn’t she paid the price of being naïve and stupid? For being desperate? For making the wrong choice? Shoving Phoenix’s BlackBerry into his midsection, she said, “Probably when she tricked me into handfasting with a demon.”

  Phoenix felt her words like a kick in the stomach. Doubt and suspicion weighed down his chest. All witches were born earth witches, they had to choose to become a demon witch. “How? You knew she was a demon witch, so how could she trick you?”

  Ailish sucked in a breath. Her golden witch-shimmer darkened. “Because she was my mother. I trusted her.”

  Part of him wanted to believe her, and part of him whispered that she was lying to him, tricking him, and that he should pull out his knife and cut her until he had absorbed every ounce of her powerful blood. He knew it was the curse getting stronger, fed by her blood. He could feel the kick of it in his body, that luscious power singing through him, winding its way to his brain, and poisoning him with the addiction. But he wasn’t a rogue. Not yet, not ever. Keeping a tight rein on himself, he said, “Let’s go to the kitchen.” He walked away, concentrating on breathing. He went around the couch, up the three steps to the main hallway, and headed left into the dining room.

  He heard a soft thump and then Ailish’s indrawn hiss.

  Shit, he’d forgotten! He turned back to see her face set in grim lines as she put her hands on the couch and went around it. Then she took a few steps.

  He could feel a small amount of her magic sweeping in front of her. He watched, frozen to the spot, as the light teasing of her magic caressed him and goaded his bloodlust. She kept moving, then must have sensed the rise in front of her and thought it was furniture. She stepped to the left, frowned, and stepped right, then probably realized it was a step. She lifted her foot, caught the edge of the step with the toe of her boot, and pitched forward.

  The sight of her vulnerability snapped him out of the freeze, and he got to her in less than a second. Catching her arms, he stopped her fall and—

  What? What was he going to do? Kill her? His hands burned for the feel of his cool knife. Then his biceps seared at the idea of hurting her. He could feel the wings struggling, rising, trying to get to her, to the witch they wanted to bind with.

  Her head snapped up. “What?”

  “You almost fell.” The realization, the cold fact of her dark world, cooled the burn of his curse. He didn’t want to hurt her, he wanted to protect her. He had walked away from her, leaving her to stumble blindly through his house. He wanted to pull her up against his body and swear he would never do that again. Never.

  She brushed off his hands. “I have to find my own way. That’s how I remember.”

  He hated that, but the fact was that she knew how to live in the dark. “Okay.” He dropped his hands to his sides. If she could endure her burden of blindness, then he could deal with his bloodlust. “There are three steps up. That leads to a main hallway that runs down the middle of my house. The house is multilevel. We’re going left.” He turned and walked ahead, his back itching with the feel of her behind him. His tats burned with the urge to help her, guide her. He went straight to the fridge, opened it, and pulled out two ice-cold beers. Then he turned, watching Ailish make her way toward him.

  She was a vision. Dark, choppy hair, strong face, and that long, sleek body that honest to God made his mouth water. “Want a beer?”

  She cocked her head slightly, getting a fix on his voice, and moved past the split stairs leading up to the media room or down to the gym. Her right hip caught on a chair at the edge of his big kitchen table. She worked her way closer.

  He remembered to draw in a breath as she was finally almost to the bar. “There’s a granite counter two steps in front of you, bar stools you can sit on.”

  She inclined her head and slid onto the bar stool. “Where’s that beer?”

  Damn, the witch amazed the shit out of him. He twisted off the top and set the beer down for her. “Twelve o’clock.” Then he twisted the cap off his and drank half of it down in a long, much needed swallow. Her blood still sang through him, and he burned for more, but she, the woman herself, was touching him deep in his chest. A place he’d closed off ten years ago, the day he’d found his mom. He didn’t do relationships with women. He never let himself care, never gave them the power to destroy him by getting hurt or dying. That feeling in his chest better damn well be indigestion. Caring for Ailish, the woman who could give in to the demon or die? That was emotional suicide.

  “I was sixteen and in love with Kyle.”

  Her words jerked Phoenix from his thoughts. He lowered his beer and had to force himself to stay still while the curse hissed, She was his! Belonged to him! Kill Kyle! Curling his hand around the bottle, he struggled to be reasonable. “The Kyle that’s on his way here?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you still love him? Desire him?” His voice grew harder with each word. She’d evidently gone racing over there to save this Kyle. Hot rage stewed and bubbled, and swear to God, he realized his knife was in his hand. He stared at the blade and knew that if Kyle walked into his house that second, he would kill him. He forced the knife back to his holster and looked at the witch who was driving him insane. He needed an answer. Now.

  “Ailish?”

  “No. Not anymore, not in nearly eight years.” Her eyes were unfocused and moving, drifting left the way she did when she was thinking, remembering. “But back then in high school, I did love him. He was so normal, so … what I wanted to be.”

  His gut-searing, possessive jealousy calmed as he understood exactly what she meant. He’d wanted to be normal, have a home, a place he belonged. But more than anything, he’d wanted to not have to fight the voices for his mother’s attention. Softening his tone, he asked, “What did you want to be?”

  “Not a witch. Just a girl. I hated the coven business that was secretive and took my mother away from me. I was never allowed to see what they did, or where they went. My mother always left me at home.”

  Phoenix watched her face. What was she thinking? “By yourself?”

  She nodded. “The house was heavily warded so no one could get through, but I hated it. Hated being alone in the dark. I would always turn on all the lights.” She pulled her mouth tight, then said, “I didn’t like all the secrets. I could never tell anyone what my mother did. It was …”

  “Lonely?”

  She looked to the left. “Maybe. Anyway, I dated Kyle, hung out with his friends, had dinner with his folks a couple times, and I was happy.”

  Yeah, he related to what it felt like to be on the outside of those warm-looking families in all those homes that lined the streets and wanting to be a part of it. But did she still feel that way about Kyle? She said no, yet she was trying to save the bastard. Careful, he warned himself, don’t lose control. “Sounds like you still care for him.”

  She lifted her beer and took a sip. “I am trying to right a wrong with Kyle. I asked my mom to make Kyle love me again. I … knew what she was and I still did it. Even though my chakras cringed, I agreed to the handfast she suggested. My mom told me it was an old tradition that would show Kyle how much I cared for him. I believed her, I wanted to believe her.” She clenched her jaw, and her fingers clutching the beer bottle turned white. “Part of me knew it was wrong, but I ignored that. I wanted him to love me more than I wanted to do the right thing.”

  He could feel her struggle with the memories. Sixteen and in love … how many heartbreaks and disasters started that way? “What happened?”

  “That night, when I realized it wasn’t Kyle I was handfasting with, but a demon in his body, I freaked. I used my power to banish Asmodeus. But I had no control over my magic, and it went wild, somehow freezing the coven witches in pl
ace, creating windstorms … I don’t remember what else because …” She paused, using her fingernail to pick at the label on the bottle. Finally she said, “I ran. I heard Kyle call out my name, but I ran. And kept running. Leaving him at the mercy of the coven.”

  “Where did you go?”

  She snorted. “I ran until I got to a park, where I hid in the bathrooms. God, I was so stupid … what was I thinking, hiding in the bathrooms?”

  It made him sick. He knew the streets and knew the dangers to a sixteen-year-old girl. “What happened?”

  “I didn’t know where to go. Hell, I didn’t know how to survive. Once my fury at my mother wore off, I was sick and scared. I found out about this homeless shelter and made my way there. I met Haley and—”

  Phoenix jerked with the impact of the name. “Haley? Haley Ryan?” Of course it was her, who else could it be?

  She shifted on the bar stool. “You know her?”

  “Hell, yeah.” It shocked him. Haley had shown him who he was—a witch hunter. They were still friends, and Phoenix contributed to the shelter.

  Ailish’s silvery eyes caught the golden witch-shimmer on her skin. “You were in the homeless shelter?”

  “Off and on, yeah. Grew up on the streets. No way in hell Haley let you stay in the shelter. She looked for witch hunter kids to bring in there. The curse would drive the witch hunters mad.” It boggled his mind that they both knew Haley. Another thought occurred to him. “Did she know your mother was a demon witch?”

  “Yes. I told her. I was desperate for help. I still didn’t realize what demon witches did … until Haley told me.” Her voice was thick with disgust.

  Remembering how she’d claimed the Circle Witches wouldn’t help her, he assumed she blamed Haley, too. “You can’t blame her, Ailish. She’s seen what they did to the street kids they snatched. Sometimes we could get them back before their minds were shattered or they were killed. They used the kids in sacrifices, summoned the demon into the boys, and gave the girls to them to rape. Haley couldn’t take a chance on you.”

  She was silent for a few seconds and absently rubbed the healed wound on her arm. Her magic had removed all traces of blood, leaving her skin a smooth olive color with a brilliant golden shimmer. “You’re wrong. Haley took a chance on me and paid for it. You’re right that she wouldn’t let me stay at the shelter. Instead she took me to her house. And that’s where my mother found us. Haley grabbed me and we ran for her car. We made it inside the vehicle before my mother’s magic hit, pinning Haley behind the driver’s seat and choking the air from her.” Ailish dropped her hands to the counter and fisted them, as if the memory still enraged her. “My mother told me she’d let Haley live if I submitted to the Claiming Rite. Her dark magic was so powerful, and my earth magic was sketchy! I panicked and began to sing to enhance my power. The car windows all exploded outward.…” She shuddered.

  “Hitting your mother in the eyes?”

  “The bitch deserved it.” Her voice was hard, bitter with old rage. “The last thing I saw was the shock, fear, and pain on her face before the witch karma hit me.”

  And took her sight. How the fuck was that fair when she was just trying to save Haley? A strange brittle cry rang in his ears, while his biceps burned. Phoenix looked at one arm.

  More of the bird showed. Two-thirds of the wing was out, and the flames were filling in. “The phoenix is rising.” From giving her his blood? Maybe.

  Ailish leaned forward, a stillness in the air between them. “Your tattoo?” She whispered the words.

  He looked at her, and it hit him then how Asmodeus had known what she was. Why her mother had bargained her. “The witches discovered a legend about us. The siren and the phoenix.” He told her as much as he knew.

  “So my mother saw you when I was born, the phoenix fly over and burst into flames. And she bargained me to Asmodeus so she could become the high witch of the coven.” Her voice was flat. “Yeah, it fits. All the secrets they never wanted me to know or the earth witches to find out.” She looked up, finding him with surprising accuracy. “Why I wasn’t allowed to sing.”

  “Because,” he explained, “your voice calls me. Carla said your siren magic is powerful, going out in waves for miles, trying to find the phoenix and call him back to life. The coven had to prevent that as your familiar would try to protect you from their plans to give you to Asmodeus. That’s why I’ve been hearing your voice in my head when you sing with your magic. And trust me, the compulsion to go to you is strong and getting stronger each time.”

  “And enhancing all other magic, doing God knows what,” she said softly. “I just wanted to get the handfast off.”

  He started to reach across the counter, needing to touch her, when he heard the car turn onto the road leading to his house. He jerked his hand back. What was he doing? He needed to let her go, get her out of his house before he gave in to the bloodlust. Right now, he could feel each and every vein in his body pulsing. But if he touched her, the bloodlust would vanish under the primal, bone-deep urge to mate with her.

  His soul, tied to the daughter of a demon witch, handfasted to a demon, with only twelve days to live.

  He drained his beer, then said, “Your friends are here.”

  Ailish had felt him reach toward her, then jerk back. She was still reeling from the fight with the rogues, losing so much blood, the massive power surge, and learning about the siren-phoenix legend. All of it left her tired and lethargic.

  And Phoenix saving her life confused her. He could have let her die and his problems would have been solved.

  She stood up off the bar stool. Whatever his reasons, he’d done it. “Thank you for helping me. Which way is the door?” She didn’t have a good layout of his house in her mind. Didn’t matter, though, she was leaving.

  “Stay here, I’ll go let them in.” He walked away.

  Ailish caught sight of his shadow and followed him. “We need to leave now. I—” Her quick reflexes allowed her to stop before slamming into him. “What?”

  “I can’t let you go. Can’t. Shit, I’m—Ah, fuck it.” He reached for her, his hands coming down on her arms and pulling her to him. He crushed her to his chest.

  Ailish inhaled his scent, the leather vest, soap, and his skin. It swelled inside of her until her magic bloomed hot and pressed against her chakras, begging for release, begging to touch him. He lifted one hand to stroke the bare skin of her back. Her powers began shivering, and her body heated with need. Her jeans irritated her skin, while her top constricted her breath. She was desperate to be skin-to-skin with Phoenix.

  “Better,” he said into her hair. “No bloodlust when I touch you. Just a blue-balled hard-on.”

  She felt his erection pressed against her stomach, while her hands slid beneath his vest to roam over his back. Powerful muscles and hot skin—she’d never get enough. She wanted to feel him all over, know all of him.

  “Ailish, you’re killing me. Every touch makes me hotter to have you. Need you.” He slid his hand into her hair and tugged her head back. Then he went to work on her mouth.

  A shiver raced through her as Phoenix opened his mouth over hers, taking her lips, then sliding deep inside. More sensations rolled through her, until her body felt soft and ready. Needy. It wasn’t forced, it was real.

  Trust. That was it—she could trust Phoenix. He didn’t force her body, but instead her body went willingly where he took it. She went up on her toes, using her tongue to taste him, feeling his mouth, his—

  He growled deep in his chest, his hand sliding down to caress her butt through her jeans. Finally, he moved his mouth to her ear. “Trust me, my siren witch. Let me bring us both pleasure. I’ll start by stripping those jeans and panties off of you and—”

  A knock at the door interrupted him.

  Ailish felt her magic surge, wanting to shove away anything that tried to get between her and Phoenix.

  “Shit!” His arms tightened around her.

  “It’s Dee and Kyl
e, I—”

  “Hush.”

  She felt the weight of his gaze on her, the strength of his arms holding her, the sweep of feathers caressing her arms. She tilted her head up to listen to him.

  There was a second knock on the door, but they both ignored it.

  “When I stop touching you, the curse is going to hit me. Hard. So here’s what’s going to happen. I’m going to open the door, and those two are going to come in. You’re all staying in my house. Do not step outside the house, Ailish. You’re safe here.”

  “What about you? The curse?”

  “I’m leaving. Here’s my BlackBerry—” He reached in his pocket, pulled it out, and put the device in her hand. “I’ll get another one at the warehouse.”

  She frowned. “The what?”

  “It’s our headquarters. I’ll call you and give you the number where you can reach me. There’s food here, plenty of rooms. Get some rest.”

  “But—”

  He kissed her, rumbled a groan, then dragged his mouth away. “If you leave this house, I’ll know. And I’ll find you. I won’t be able to stop myself, I’ll come after you.”

  The curse. She finally understood. “My blood, you got too much.”

  “Not enough. Not nearly enough. Now I want, need, all of you.” He dragged in a breath. “I won’t hurt you. I won’t. But I have to go.”

  She nodded. He had fought to save her life. That meant something to her, and she knew it had cost him, knew it bound them tighter. She could feel his torment now, as if his body were being torn apart. “I’ll stay. We’ll stay.”

  Another knock echoed through the house. “Ailish?” It was Dee’s voice.

  “I’m here,” she answered.

  Phoenix took one hand off her to open the door. “Come in and stay here with Ailish.” Then he took his hand off her back and headed out the front door.