Night Magic: A Wing Slayer Novel

by Jennifer Lyon

  “What?”

  “The urge to sing for you, it’s getting stronger.”

  A longing built in both his biceps and that spot between his ribs. He wanted her to sing, to call him to her. “We’re leaving now. Be there soon.”

  “Wait, do you know if Kyle made it to Arizona okay?”

  Shit, he’d forgotten to tell her. “Yes, he got on the plane with no problems. Sutton checked, and his plane landed fine.”

  “That’s good. Thanks. See you when you get here.”

  He stowed his phone, trying to banish the thought of Ailish sitting alone attempting to watch a movie she couldn’t see. “Let’s roll.”

  Ten minutes later, Phoenix took the lead on his motorcycle. Axel and Darcy were in the SUV with Joe and Morgan. And Sutton brought up the rear with Carla in his truck.

  It was just after three o’clock in the morning and few people were out on the roads, yet as they pulled out of the garage, the skin on his neck and arms itched. He looked around and saw a motorcycle race out of an alley. “Shit, may have had a spy. I’m going after him!” he said in the headset while riding.

  “Stand down, Phoenix,” Axel commanded. “I’m calling it in to Ram, we need you on protection. If that was a spy, he’ll call for backup. Let’s move fast.”

  Shit. He could have gotten Ailish here faster, safer, except that the unbonded hunters would have been driven crazy by her witch blood. But Axel, Sutton, Darcy, and Carla were immortal, strong … He thought about it all as he wound through the industrial buildings. He scanned the roads as he passed by a gas station and an all-night convenience store. “Clear so far,” he said into his headset.

  “Clear in back,” Sutton answered.

  “Keep moving,” Axel said.

  They traveled farther inland. Phoenix had had enough of living around the beach as a homeless kid. He turned onto a long road that ran between the houses of the planned community he lived above and a school, park, and soccer field. This road was usually barren at this time of morning, so he gunned the bike up to sixty miles an hour. They had just passed the school when he saw a black Hummer skid out from the soccer field over the curb and onto the road, blocking them.

  “Trouble!” Phoenix said. “Hummer ahead, blocking road.”

  “Hummer coming up behind,” Sutton snarled.

  “Setup,” Axel said. “Get Morgan on the floor. Joe, ready to fire.”

  Phoenix could get his bike around the Hummer, but the SUV and truck couldn’t. He wouldn’t leave them. Six rogues poured out of the Hummer, taking aim with guns. The SUV and truck were bulletproof. Phoenix wasn’t, so he swerved the bike into a 180 while bullets whizzed past his head and grazed his arms. “Shit!” He had one choice. “Jumping, Sutton. Hold steady.” He passed the SUV and saw the Hummer picking up speed to ram the truck. Bastards. He slowed the bike. Bracing his feet, he stood, crouched, then jumped off the bike and into the bed of the truck. He hit the bottom at the same time he heard his beloved Yamaha R6 crash into the Hummer.

  He had a second one at home in his garage, but damn, he was pissed. He popped up over the tailgate and fired into the faces of the driver and the passenger as they ran over his bike. The crunching metal rang in his head.

  Axel, Sutton, and Joe stormed out of the vehicles, slamming doors to keep the women inside. Axel snapped his wings out, taking to the air and heading into a dive bomb toward the rogues up front. Sutton picked off rogues trying to get to the SUV. Phoenix slithered over the side of the truck and onto the street. He ran to the Hummer behind him. The two men in the front were dead, but more poured out the back. He fought doubly hard, pissed to the core that they’d been set up by the spy on the bike, teed off that he’d had to sacrifice his R6. In one fluid movement, he whipped his chain off his belt and snapped it around the neck of one rogue while killing another with his knife.

  Joe came around the other side, firing two guns.

  After twisting his knife in the heart of the rogue on his left, Phoenix got his knife out and then yanked the other one on the end of his chain right into his blade. He jerked out his knife and threw the dead man off his chain, then whipped around to see that Joe had killed one and was struggling with another.

  The rogue stabbed Joe in the side. “Fuck!” Phoenix leaped up on the hood and over, jumping onto the copper-smelling bastard and slamming his face into the ground. Shoving his knee into the rogue’s back, he grabbed the man’s head and twisted until he’d severed the spine.

  Joe was leaning against the front of the Hummer, guns up, eyes sharp, and blood pouring from his side. Phoenix grabbed his arm and jerked him to Sutton’s truck.

  Carla shoved open the door.

  He threw Joe in and slammed the door, confident that Carla would heal him. He drew in a sharp breath when he felt the change in the atmosphere. As if lightning had infused electricity into the air. He could smell sulfur and burnt skin.

  Quinn Young. His skin went cold and his heart hammered. He stepped back from the truck, fiery adrenaline washing through him. Phoenix looked around, trying to find Young. He spotted him coming from behind the Hummer. He must have been in the back of the vehicle. Young stood four inches over six feet, wore dark slacks, a collared short-sleeved pullover, and a shiny black dagger burned into his right forearm. The thing writhed and pulled on his skin as if it were dancing in excitement.

  The sight of that hideous Immortal Death Dagger snapped Phoenix into action. He wrenched open the door to the truck, reached in, and grabbed Carla’s arm. She was bent over Joe, but he yanked her out of the truck. “In the SUV,” he told her urgently. Then he pulled Joe out and heaved him over his shoulder. He was moving at hyperspeed. He passed Carla running and grabbed her up with his free arm. They’d all be safer in one vehicle.

  He glanced up ahead. Sutton was running toward them, his gaze fixed on Carla.

  Axel was in the air after chasing down a couple of runners.

  Phoenix took all this in while racing flat out toward the SUV.

  Darcy threw open the back door. Phoenix shoved Joe in, then pushed Carla in after him. Sutton was only twenty feet away. He’d make it, they’d get away! He had just reached for the driver’s door when something blew past him so fast that it scorched across his back.

  The smell of sulfur and burnt skin filled his lungs. He whipped his head to the left and saw the Immortal Death Dagger slam into Sutton’s chest.

  Everything snapped into slow motion. Phoenix heard more screams. Sutton ran two additional steps, then toppled over like a tree.

  Axel swooped down from the sky. “Get him and get out of here!” His bellow of fury was so violent, the air shook as he flew by.

  Phoenix had begun to gallop toward Sutton when the hunter was suddenly flipped over onto his back, as if unseen hands had picked him up and turned him. The slimy, shuddering black dagger pulled out of his chest with a pop and hovered over him. The wound spurted blood, and Sutton lay still.

  Phoenix reached him, his eye on the dagger.

  It jerked toward him.

  Axel dived down, and the dagger shot up after the hawk.

  Phoenix scooped up Sutton, ran to the SUV, and climbed in the back. Darcy sat in the driver’s seat. She peeled out before Phoenix had Sutton’s legs in. The SUV bounced up over the curb and onto the schoolyard.

  “Axel said go!” Darcy said.

  Carla was grabbing Sutton off his lap. She had to be using magic to move him. “Knife!” she screamed.

  Phoenix handed her his knife. He glanced out the window. Axel was in the sky, darting one way and then the other to avoid the Death Dagger. He’d drawn it away to keep it from killing Phoenix.

  Quinn Young stood and watched, his arm held out and somehow controlling the dagger’s movements in an effort to kill Axel. The only antidote for a cut to the heart from the Immortal Death Dagger was the blood of a soul mirror.

  Young moved his arm, and Phoenix caught a glimpse of a black mark or tattoo over the biceps. A chill ran down his spine, then th
e mark vanished beneath the sleeve. Blinking, he said, “I should do something. If that dagger gets Axel—”

  “It won’t!” Darcy bounced in the seat. She drove up over the field, over bodies of dead rogues, around the Hummer, and then floored it the rest of the way up the road.

  Carla was chanting. She sliced the knife across her palm and shoved it into the bleeding wound of Sutton. Her mate. She said, “Wing Slayer, I give him blood, please give him life. Ancestors, I beg you, please help him!” Tears ran down her face. Her magic filled the SUV.

  Joe and Morgan were up front. All was silent but for Carla’s chanting, breathing, and the sound of the road.

  Phoenix offered his own silent prayers to Wing Slayer. For Sutton and Axel.

  “Carly …” Sutton moved, his fingers closing around Carla’s wrist where her hand was pressed to his chest. “I won’t leave you, baby.” He reached up and pulled her down to him, his arms folding around her. “I’m okay. Just let me catch my breath,” he said.

  Phoenix turned away, relieved and yet feeling like an intruder. “Darcy, how’s Axel?” He knew they could communicate through the soul-mirror bond.

  “Quinn Young has called back his knife and is leaving.” She turned onto the lonely road that led up to his house. “Axel’s going to circle around, make sure there’s no more trouble, then he’ll meet us at your house.”

  “Joe?” Phoenix asked.

  He had Morgan in the seat with him. He turned and looked over at Phoenix. “Carla stopped the bleeding before you yanked her out like a sack of potatoes.”

  “Thanks,” Phoenix said dryly, sure that Sutton was going to kick his ass now. Sutton shifted Carla, sitting up without letting go of her. Phoenix explained to the big man, “I was rough with her, but—”

  Sutton’s blue eyes met his. “I saw you saving her, keeping her out of Young’s clutches. Saw you pick her up as you ran. Thank you.”

  Embarrassed, he shrugged as Darcy pulled up the circular driveway as close to the house as possible. Axel landed and they moved quickly inside the house. Once Phoenix had rearmed the system, he turned to Morgan. “How you doing, Blondie?”

  The strain around her eyes and mouth were evident, and she had her arms wrapped around her belly. “I kept telling myself it wasn’t Eric. That he’s dead and my baby is safe.” She blinked once and added, “That bastard isn’t going to win. I won’t let him make me crazy or hurt my baby.”

  Joe pulled her closer into his side, his eyes hot with anger. “Damn right.”

  Phoenix said, “Why don’t you two go downstairs. We’ll do this in the gym area.” That should give the witches enough space to work, and they wouldn’t wake up Dee in the guest room.

  Joe took Morgan to get her settled. Darcy and Carla followed.

  Axel had his phone out, on speaker. “Ram, anything?”

  “Lost the trail of the rogue on the motorcycle. I’m on my way to the site of the attack, but they will be gone.” The man’s voice was tight.

  Phoenix said, “He obviously called in to the Rogue Cadre that we were on the move.”

  Sutton rubbed his chest where the dagger had stabbed him. “They are organized, more organized than ever to move that fast. Looks like Young has taken up residence here.”

  Ram added, “It’ll be a well-protected hideout. I’m hoping to get a lead, some trail to follow from the attack site.”

  “Careful,” Axel said. “Young got Sutton with the Immortal Death Dagger.”

  “Either he’s a dead man talking, or Carla got to him in time,” Ram said.

  The memory of seeing that dagger hit Sutton gave him heartburn. If Carla hadn’t been there … He didn’t even want to go there. They had to find a way to get past that dagger and kill Young by stabbing him in the heart, then send the dagger back to the Underworld.

  Ailish hung back by the small fridge on the door side of the gym, just standing there, feeling out of place.

  “You okay?” Phoenix came downstairs with Axel and Sutton.

  “Yes.” The other two witches fascinated her. She could feel them in the room, feel their chakras, their magic. From their conversation, she knew they had Morgan on the mat with pillows. Now they were checking on the baby, talking between themselves. “What do they look like?” she asked Phoenix.

  “Who?”

  “The witches.” She felt like a little girl back when her mom and the coven met and talked. They always made her go in the other room. She’d sneak and try to watch, but she hadn’t been able to hear what they were saying.

  “Darcy is a little taller than you, an inch or so. She has auburn hair, brown eyes, and a silvery witch-shimmer. She’s pretty and curvy, and she wears a necklace of silver hawk wings—that’s her witch book.”

  She’d thought about this. “Silver conducts magic, so I guess that’s where she stores all her magic?”

  “Passed down from her mother,” Phoenix answered, and went on with, “Carla’s witch book is a pair of eagle wings in a band around her biceps. She’s just a little shorter than you, very smart, she has a PhD in psychology. Hazel eyes, long white blond hair, and clumsy as hell outside. Which is always amusing since Sutton is a huge outdoorsman.”

  She nodded and kept her mouth shut so she didn’t ask any more stupid questions. What did it matter what they looked like? Or if they had witch books passed down in their families? They were powerful earth witches, while Ailish was barely holding on to her soul. She shifted, her chakras bubbling with Phoenix so close by. Or maybe it was the witches.

  “They are coming over here.”

  Phoenix’s voice caught her attention. She took a breath.

  “Ailish,” Darcy said, “are you ready?”

  She hoped she had her game face on. “You want me to touch Morgan and sing while you two do the actual work.”

  Carla said, “Actually, from the research I’ve done, the baby should respond to your siren voice, possibly be enthralled by it, and it will keep him calm. So you’ll be doing that and enhancing our magic. Between you and Darcy, the baby should feel safe and secure so he doesn’t try to leave the womb and find his mother. And it’ll help me work with Morgan on the astral plane. But it also gives Asmodeus access to Morgan.”

  That worried her. “I’ll be enhancing dark magic, too. It could give Asmodeus a boost to harm Morgan or anything else he’s doing with his rogues and demon witches.”

  Phoenix stiffened next to her. “Young. He’s up to something and obviously close by since he attacked tonight.”

  Alarm raced through her, and she snapped her head to her left. “When?”

  “On the way over. Everyone’s okay now.” Phoenix shifted, and she saw the shadowy movement of him dragging his hand through his hair. “But we believe he’s been taking advantage of your siren voice. He has his rogues killing more and more witches for the spiked power in their blood after you sing.”

  “Then why are we doing this?” Frustration hardened her voice. “My power is too dangerous.”

  Carla said, “Because otherwise the baby will be born too early and he’ll die. If we don’t use our power to save innocents like a baby, we have no business being witches.”

  That struck Ailish bone-deep. It was exactly what she wanted to do—be an earth witch.

  “We’re going to be as careful as we can,” Darcy added. “We can’t set a circle due to the handfast on you, it would push you out. So we’re going to need to work fast and limit the damage of your siren voice enhancing other magic. If the demon does try something, Axel and Sutton will be able to keep him away from us, but you’ll be vulnerable.”

  Ailish waved that away. “I’m used to the things he does, the pain or torment, it won’t close my chakras. Plus from what you’re saying, he’s not going to want to stop me. He wants me to use the power.”

  “I’ll be here,” Phoenix said. “The blood exchange has given me the ability to block the demon from her dreams. It should be the same here.” He touched her shoulder and leaned closer. “I won’t l
et him hurt you.”

  She felt the determination coming from him. She saw the burden of trying to protect her and keep her from harm now that he had told her about his mom, his guilt about failing her because he made one choice. One decision to ignore her call. He hadn’t ever wanted to be dragged back into a relationship where so much burden fell on him. Aside from Ailish’s handfast, there was her blindness, which Phoenix had to see as a weakness. Yet he wouldn’t walk away, couldn’t. That experience had hardwired Phoenix to be the hero. Gently, she said, “I don’t need a babysitter. I’ve trained for pain, and I don’t break.” She wouldn’t crack under the strain like his mother and take the easy way out. Nor did she expect Phoenix to rescue her every time she got into trouble. She’d spent years learning to take care of herself.

  His hand slid from her shoulder to her nape. “I didn’t mean—”

  Carla broke in, “Ailish, since you’ve begun the soul-mirror bond, and Phoenix’s bird is your familiar, we think he might help focus your power. You won’t have complete control like you would if you had finished the soul-mirror bond, but it should help limit the excess power going out into the atmosphere and enhancing other magic.”

  She listened, thrilled by the possibility of being able to fully control her power. Then reality took hold with the insistent urge rushing up her diaphragm. She shook her head. The intimacy of his hand, that single solid touch, nearly weakened her. But she couldn’t risk it. “I have to do this alone. If you touch me, like you’re touching me now, and I sing … I’ll call you. I’ll find a way to …” She clamped her mouth shut, the need tickling her throat.

  “Phoenix,” Carla said, “why don’t we compromise. You stay across the room, but you’ll be able to reach her if something happens. You should be close enough to try to help her control her voice power.”

  His hand flexed with tension on her neck. She turned her head up, wishing she could see his face. “Please. Do it this way. It’s going to be hard enough when you hear me sing. And hard enough for me not to sing the Siren’s Song to call your phoenix.” If she did, they’d both lose control and seal their souls. She knew it.