Defying Magick: an Urban Fantasy Novel (The Witch Blood Chronicles Book 2)

by Debbie Cassidy

  The group hooted with laughter. A chuckle rose up my throat. Yeah, I could get used to these guys.

  My stomach grumbled. Urgh, what was wrong with me? So fucking hungry.

  Henna pulled out a couple of seats this side of the table and we parked our butts. A plate appeared before me, piled high with a little of everything. Thank the gods. It all smelled so good. I dug in. Yum, it was all delish. Wait, why had the room gone silent? I raised my gaze from my plate, mouth full of chicken.

  Kiran was staring at me. In fact, they were all staring at me.

  A quick glance down revealed why. I was a mess. Like food everywhere. I chewed and swallowed. “Sorry, just really hungry.”

  The girl with the bob smiled. “No, it’s cool, it’s just, we’ve never seen anyone aside from Vritra eat like that.”

  Yeah, there was food down my shirt and around my mouth. Henna passed me a napkin. What the heck was wrong with me?

  “I don’t usually try to inhale my food.”

  Henna snorted. “It’s a dragon thing. You just used a huge amount of power exercising her. She wants to be fed and she doesn’t give a shit about etiquette.”

  “Oh, my god!” Kiran said. “Can you imagine Vritra and Carmella having dinner together?”

  Gita snorted.

  The door opened and a hush fell over the gathered as Shukra strode in. Kiran ducked his head.

  The sage strode over to the double ovens at the back of the kitchen and grabbed a plate. He ladled food straight from the pans onto his plate and then wandered over.

  His gaze swept over us and snagged on me. “Miss Hunter, what a pleasant surprise.” He boomed. “I’m glad you reconsidered your position and joined the fold.”

  “I haven’t joined anything. I’m here to train.”

  His brows shot up. “Ah, the dragon inside. Powerful. Very powerful. And how was your training? No visible injuries? Good, very good.”

  I reached up to touch my lip, all healed now. “The advantages of super healing, I guess. A busted lip doesn’t last long, although the mats may need a little cleaning.”

  Henna snorted. “She’s a bleeder, this one.”

  Shukra made the appropriate concerned face. “Well, enjoy the food.” He glanced at the table and his eyes lit up. “Samosas.” He reached across the table to the plate piled with the tiny triangular pockets of meat and vegetables. His sleeve trailed in the lentil soup. Tutting in annoyance, he pushed the fabric up his arm and out of harm’s way, flashing the intricate tattoos decorating his skin: a crescent moon, a star, and the number eight.

  My scalp prickled. There was something about that tattoo.

  Shukra grabbed a handful of samosas. “I am sure we’ll be crossing paths again soon, Miss Hunter.” He popped the food onto his plate and left the room.

  Kiran sagged, and Gita reached across the table to pat his hand. What the heck was going on?

  Henna leaned in. “Shukra is Kiran’s father.”

  “I thought Shukra was a sage, not an asura.”

  “He is,” Kiran said. “My mum’s an asura. They’re not together anymore. Mum lives here on the uppermost floors and dad, well, he likes his privacy.”

  “He has his own place in Camden,” Henna said.

  Well that explained the booming voice Kiran had put on earlier. Wow, Shukra sounded like a bit of a dick.

  “Well the food won’t eat itself,” Gita said.

  And just like that all eyes were back on me. Fuck it, I was hungry and there was still food on my plate so … I picked up another drumstick and took a huge, indelicate bite.

  Henna chuckled. “Yeah Hunter, I think you’re gonna fit in just fine.”

  The conversation turned to training, an upcoming tournament, and a grand prize. Such a huge difference from the pomp and ceremony of the covens. Maybe being an asura wouldn’t be so bad.

  _____

  Shaitan Enterprises was a twenty-four-seven business. But the night receptionist was a far cry from Fanny. A monolith of a man seated in a wingback, a bucket of chicken at his elbow and a portable DVD player set up in front of him playing some romantic comedy.

  I strode past, using my newly created access card to beep out of the barrier.

  He hit pause and glanced up with a grin. “Hunter, right?”

  “Yeah. And you are?”

  “Rajan. Did you have fun with the gang?”

  The gang? As in the asura? “You’re an asura too?”

  He inclined his head on his thick neck. “That I am.”

  “I didn’t see you in the training room.”

  He wrinkled his nose. “Nah, don’t go in for all the unnecessary violence. Not my thing.”

  No, romantic comedies seemed to be more his cup of tea. I wandered over and craned my neck to study the screen. “What you watching?”

  “Serendipity. Have you seen it?”

  “Yeah, good movie.”

  He nodded. “It is. The others would probably make fun of me if they weren’t afraid I’d crush them.”

  “I thought you didn’t do violence.”

  He grinned, showcasing huge blunt teeth. “I said I didn’t do unnecessary violence.” He leaned down, opened a drawer, and retrieved something. “These are for you.” He held out a key on a chain and a key card.

  “What are they for?”

  “Key’s for the car parked outside, and the key card is to your penthouse suite on the uppermost floor.”

  A suite? What the heck was Vritra playing at? And why was I getting the warm fuzzies? “Um, thanks but I have a flat.”

  He shrugged. “Hey, I’m just the delivery guy.”

  It was an invitation to reconsider my stance on the whole, I’m-not-running-away-from-possible-danger. My dragon was strong and she liked me. She’d protect me. And if I got into deeper shit, then I had Paimon as back up. Giving up my life was a last resort. I dropped the keys and the card on the desk.

  “Well, tell Mr. Ajagar that you delivered and I politely declined.”

  He made an O with this mouth. “All the makings of a rom-com right here.”

  “Trust me. There is nothing romantic about any of this.” I backed up. “See you around, Rajan.”

  And then I was out the door. The night was fresh and the breeze cool on my skin. My phone buzzed and I answered without checking the ID.

  Sobs filtered down the phone into my ear.

  I gripped the phone tighter. “Hello? Hello? Who is this?”

  “Oh, god. I can’t. I don’t understand.” It was Urvashi.

  “Urvashi, calm down. What’s happened? Just, calm down and talk to me.”

  “I remember. I remember everything.”

  12

  Melody put her office phone back into its cradle. “Three more apsaras have suddenly got their memories back. The calls came in within minutes of each other. We have operatives bringing them in for questioning.”

  Outside her window, London at night spread its wings. Every monument and landmark lit up blue, orange, or green.

  Urvashi paced the office. “I need to know who did this. Who fucked with my head? Who killed … Oh, god why didn’t you tell me he was dead?”

  She was talking about Devin, her Ghandarva lover. “I’m sorry.”

  She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. I’d forgotten we’d been together that night. I’d forgotten him.” She blew out her cheeks, grabbing hold of the edge of Melody’s desk to steady herself. “I feel sick.”

  “Just sit, babe. Sit and we can go through it together.”

  She nodded and parked her butt on one of the two padded seats on offer.

  Melody perched on the edge of desk. “Any information, any details you can recall could be the key to catching these creatures.”

  Urvashi licked her lips. “I remember Devin and I were just about to have sex. I was happy. We’d been seeing each other on and off for years, never getting serious but … he told me that night that he wanted to make it official. He wanted us to be an item. And then …”
her brow crinkled. “There was a crash … glass all over the place, and this black vibrating mass moving toward us. Devin tried to fight it. There was blood, and then another one came in through the busted window. It went for me, and then I … I think I blacked out.”

  “Do you remember what happened to you afterwards?” Melody asked.

  She shook her head. “No … No wait, there was a voice. I …” she winced, trying to summon the memory. “I knew who that voice belonged to, but I can’t remember now. And then I was waking up in bed with a whole set of new memories.”

  Melody ran a hand over her face. “Okay, so we know that someone you knew was involved. What we don’t know is how Devin got away. If whoever is behind this was willing to wipe Urvashi’s memory to hide his or her scheme, then why let Devin go so easily?”

  “Devin was one of the most powerful of the thirteen.” Urvashi said. “Taking him down wouldn’t have been easy. It’s completely plausible that he escaped.”

  Escaped and made it back to his brothers, only to die days later. Even if we had succeeded in questioning him, he probably wouldn’t have been able to identify his attacker. No one else could. Had we awoken him for nothing? Vritra claimed he probably would have died regardless, but we didn’t know that, not for sure. Guilt clawed at my insides. The possibility that these creatures weren’t from our world was becoming more and more plausible. Vritra and the witches at the Mayfair Ball had seen Paimon, but only the High Witch knew what he really was. It was time to bring Melody into the loop. The IEPEU needed to consider the possibility that more than one overlap may have occurred.

  “There’s something I need to tell you.” I filled her in on the cuff, the djinn disappearances, the djinn realm overlapping with ours, and Paimon’s desire to find the creatures. Yeah, a lot of filling in, a lot of stuff I probably should have told her days ago.

  Melody paced the room. “You should have told us this sooner. Dammit, Hunter. Why didn’t you pass on this vital information?”

  “I don’t know.” There was no solid reason, just a conviction I’d had to keep the knowledge to myself. “At first it felt wrong to betray Paimon. He didn’t want the overlap to be common knowledge. And then with the Kubera-style tech in the lab, and the fact that the creatures we’re hunting knew about the Soho facility … it didn’t make sense for them to be from another world.”

  “It still doesn’t,” Urvashi said. “I know that whoever is behind this is someone we know. I can’t remember who was speaking, but I remember the words. He said, don’t fight it. Those words and his voice are clear in my mind, like an aural photograph. If I heard that voice again I’d be able to identify him.”

  Melody moved to the door and held it open. “Go home, get some sleep, and leave the rest to me. If you remember anything else you let me know.”

  Urvashi nodded. “Of course.”

  “Hunter, if you’re serious about being an operative with the IEPEU, then you cannot withhold information pertaining to a case.”

  She was annoyed with me, and it grated because she was right. I’d let my feelings for Paimon interfere with the case. The binding, the emotions, it had all been too much, and in the end it had been a lie, because he hadn’t come to me since the attack at the Mayfair Mansion. The connection between us was an illusion forged by the binding, nothing more. I’d compromised the case for smoke and shadow.

  And there was the guilt again. “It won’t happen again.”

  “Good. Murdoch’s lined up the alpha interrogations for tomorrow, so make sure you’re here, bright and early.”

  There was nothing I could do about the past. I’d fucked up. No changing that. But there was no way I’d be messing up these interrogations. I’d made Honey a promise I’d find the bastard who’d ordered the hit and make him pay.

  I would not be breaking that promise.

  _____

  Thank god the day was over. The Yaksha interviews were a bust. If we could arrest them all just for being self-obsessed arseholes then we’d have a case. Rohan and Marco, my prime suspects, were open about wanting to control the Renegade Pack, and although this was possible motive for killing the Renegade Pack Alpha, it wasn’t strong enough motive for killing them all. Honey’s theory was sound, but upon examination it was clear that the death of so many yaksha was a negative impact on all the packs. If this was about setting up new treaties and readjusting boundaries, then whoever was responsible was doing a shoddy job, because as far as we could see all that the new alphas had done was reaffirm the existing set-up.

  Between catering to the hungry and pondering what our next move would be, my shift at the soup kitchen flew by and before we knew it, it was time to lock up and pack up. The nights residents made their way up the stairs to the first floor and to bed.

  Victor switched off the soup kitchen lights. “I’m walking you to aerial station. No arguments.”

  It was late, almost eleven. And the last tram left in twenty minutes. Tuesday nights were always super busy for some reason. “Look, I’ll be fine. It’s just around the corner.”

  He huffed and urged me out the door, locking up behind him.

  “What about the residents?”

  “The residents don’t have Yamduth gunning for them.”

  He began to stride toward the station. “Come on.”

  Gah, there was no arguing with the rakshasa. “So how are your friends?”

  “Good.”

  “Are you planning on seeing them anytime soon?”

  “Carmella, we don’t have to make small talk.”

  “Oh. Good.”

  The steps to the station loomed up ahead. “I’ll be okay from here.”

  “And I’ll feel better once I see you safely on that tram.”

  “Such a gentleman.”

  Something dark flitted across his face but was gone too soon to decipher. The platform was empty, just the breeze and a lonely piece of litter rolling across the ground.

  Four minutes till the tram arrived.

  The thud of boots on the steps had Victor going into tense high alert mode.

  “Chill, it’s a tram station, people use it.”

  A head came into view, then another and another. Familiar faces, with familiar grins.

  Henna, Gita, and Kiran strode toward us.

  A surprised laugh escaped my lips. “What are you doing here?”

  Henna shrugged, all nonchalant. “We were talking about you and I mentioned the soup kitchen, so Kiran and Gita insisted on coming down to see it. I guess we left it too late.”

  Victor studied them silently.

  “Hey?” Henna raised a hand in greeting. “I’m Henna.”

  “I know who you are. You tried to kill Carmella.”

  Gita gasped and Kiran choked on his own saliva.

  Henna merely shrugged. “Yeah, but I’ve changed my mind so …”

  “You changed your mind? How magnanimous of you.”

  Henna cocked her head. “A big guy using a big word. I like it.”

  “We have a car,” Kiran said. “We can give you a ride home.”

  “Thanks.” We began walking back toward the steps.

  “Parked up outside the kitchen actually,” Kiran said.

  The tram cables began to hum. A blast of hot air hit us in the face as several figures materialized between us and the stone steps.

  Yamduth. Six, no seven of them, except they weren’t toting the silver weapons today. These weapons were stark white. My gut twisted in warning. And Vritra’s words came back to haunt me. New weapons. Weapons that could hurt me.

  “Fucking hell,” Henna pulled out a dagger.

  The tram came roaring into the station.

  “No!” I grabbed her arm and yanked her toward the slowing tram. “We need to board. Now.”

  Victor hesitated. Fuck the no contact rule. I grabbed his hand tugging him along. The tram slid to a halt and we bundled on. The Yamduth were almost on us. Come on, come on, shut damn you. The doors obliged and the tram shuddered
into motion just as one of the yamduth slammed the flat of his hand against the glass.

  He was smiling.

  Why was he smiling?

  “Fucking hell.” Gita fell into the nearest seat. “Never thought I’d see a reaper and live to tell the tale.”

  A young couple who’d been tongue deep in each other’s mouths surfaced for a second to see what all the commotion was about, and then resumed their mutual tonsil tickling.

  A warm gust of air blasted through the tram. No. No, no, no.

  Henna had a gaze fixed over my shoulder. “I think it may be time for some stabby, stabby after all.”

  Shit. I turned to face the reapers. Seven shadow wreathed bringers of death in a tiny tram car built to carry twenty passengers at a push. The cars behind and in front were empty. Just us, the reapers, and the now frozen with fear lovers trapped behind the killers.

  Kiran cracked his neck. “Bring it bitches.”

  “Bring it bitches?” Gita taunted. “That’s the best you can do?”

  The Yamduth began striding down the car toward us.

  “Yeah?” Kiran said. “Let’s see you do better.”

  “Reap this, bitches.”

  “Okay, that’s pretty good, a play on the whole reaper, reap thing.”

  “Will you too just shut the fuck up?” Henna snapped. “Focus dammit.”

  The reapers raised their bone white swords … Bone. Mother fucker, the weapons were made of—shit! I ducked, slamming into the side of the car and scrambling to the side to get out the way.

  My dragon roared into action, fire racing over my skin, but the pain was good. It meant armor. It meant protection. The sword came at me again, smashing into the seat to my left.

  Someone screamed—probably the lovers. I leaped up, spun, and rushed the yamduth. I grabbed his sword arm and pushed it back. My dragon strength surged through me, battling his, and then his shadows swallowed my face, choking me and burning my eyes.

  Dammit. I fell back, rolling away just in time to avoid the business end of his bone sword.

  Thunk, thunk, thunk. He followed me down the aisle, swinging, missing. Way to close. And then I hit a wall. No. Not a wall. Someone’s back.