In Smoke And Ruins (Burned by Magic Book 2)

by Gina Shafer

  “Just something I’m trying to remember. A word…or more like a name,” I tell him.

  “What does it sound like?”

  “Ignus garrat,” I say, completely butchering the words. But Lincoln’s eyes immediately widen, and the look on his face would be comical if I wasn’t terrified to learn the word’s meaning.

  “Ignis gerit,” he mutters correcting me, and the words sound exactly the way they did when they came from Vara, though admittedly less threatening.

  “What?”

  Lincoln’s eyes roam over me; he’s completely transfixed.

  “What does it mean, Lincoln?” My voice is louder, more harsh.

  Lincoln opens his mouth to reply, but he never gets the chance to.

  “Shit!” Elijah’s voice explodes through the interior of the vehicle, interrupting Lincoln’s reply. A shiver runs down my spine when he slams on the brakes, and we all lurch forward. What the hell is happening?

  Hundreds of them come into view at once, shadow-walkers and demons alike. We’re completely screwed.

  “What do we do? Fuck, Elijah, there’s nowhere to run,” I say.

  “We have to fight,” Elijah says, and in an instant, the atmosphere in the vehicle changes. Willow lets out a snarl like I’ve never heard before, and the noise charges the energy around us.

  I rise onto my knees in the seat, turning so that I have sight of the trunk. I reach over the seat for a large black duffel bag and pull out weapons, handing the guns off to Lincoln so that he can pass them to Elijah and Soren. For now, the demons are still, watching us, but they could attack at any second.

  When I feel the handles of my swords, my nerves instantly calm. I know these weapons. They fit perfectly in my hands. I kill with these swords.

  I glance at Micha and Scarlett in the car behind me, and it hits me. Rayna. They have their baby in that car.

  “Rayna,” I say out loud, settling smoothly back into my seat while simultaneously rubbing my swords with their fuel.

  “Fuck,” Soren says.

  We have to get them out of here.

  Elijah’s eyes shoot up to meet mine through in the rear- view mirror. His piercing gaze causes my hands to slow for just a moment as we both think of a plan. When my eyes dart to Lincoln’s, Elijah nods, flexing his jaw.

  “Lincoln. You can’t be seen here, working with us. When it starts, take Scarlett and the baby, and don’t fucking stop until you’re miles from here. No matter what,” Elijah orders. There is a flicker of hesitation on Lincoln’s face, but there isn’t any time to argue.

  “I will meet you at the warehouse,” he says simply.

  “Are you ready?” Soren asks. I grab the lighter. I wish more than anything that I could communicate my plan with everyone, especially Scarlett and Micha. The demons tense and come closer. It strikes me as odd that they’ve stayed so still and so far away for so long. But, then I think back to how many times we’ve blown them up recently, and I realize what they’re doing.

  “They won’t attack first. They’re feeling us out. Putting us on the offense instead of defense. They’re smarter,” I say. Headlights flicker behind us, and I know that Ted, Xo, Marcel, and Beckett have caught up to us. Fear tickles me, pulling my thoughts in odd directions. I worry about Beckett, not knowing if he’ll be able to defend himself in something like this. I swallow down my fear, trying to center myself.

  “Let’s go,” Elijah says as he swings open the vehicle door, stepping onto the dark asphalt. It won’t be night for much longer. I can see the first glow of the sun rising up on the horizon.

  I fling open my door the same time as Soren, glancing over my shoulder as Lincoln hunkers down ever so slightly behind the front seat. The move brings me the tiniest sliver of peace, knowing that at least Scarlett and Rayna, two beings who don’t deserve this violence, will be taken care of.

  Micha exits their SUV, and I hear his heavy footsteps soon followed by the other men fall into place at our sides. I reach over, gripping Micha’s clenched fist and squeezing it once, hoping he understands we have a plan. We don’t take our eyes off the demons.

  “What do you want?” Elijah calls out, his voice stretching far, filling the space between the demons and us.

  “You,” one answers. I have to squint to make out his features, and even then all I can see is a strong square face, tan skin, and long blond hair. His arms are crossed, and he appears to be almost at ease.

  “What do you want with me?”.

  “Not me, Vara… what she wants, she usually gets.” I fight back a shiver.

  “Vara did this? Where is she?” Elijah asks.

  “You don’t seriously think she’d be here? No, she knew you would all flee the minute she left your house.” The demon laughs.

  “McCade.” Elijah says, and the name almost echoes.

  “Thought you wouldn’t remember me, it’s been so long.” McCade says.

  “Not long enough. This time I’m going to kill you,” Elijah tells him.

  Be careful.

  Elijah’s jaw twitches at my words, but otherwise he doesn’t react.

  “You have the right to try,” McCade says. Then, in one synchronized movement, the demons press forward. A slow walk at first, and then faster, until they’re close enough I can see the wisps of dark skin from the shadow-walkers floating up toward the sky and the metallic glint of the demons’ eyes in the car’s headlights.

  We’re in a standoff, both sides unmoving as the demons stop in front of us. They must not consider that any of us are planning to run, because they’ve left our flacks completely open.

  Just as I slow reach into my pocket for the lighter, I hear the first gunshot. A shadow-walker lunges at Micha, and his shotgun explodes in its chest. The next thing I know is utter chaos.

  A demon strikes at me, a bat in her hand. She’s enraged, her teeth shining through her anger. I slice through her with ease, her warm blood spilling over the sleeve of my light gray thermal, staining the fabric. The faint noise of gurgling in her throat is all I hear over the loud grunts of the others fighting.

  A shadow-walker steps into view. In fact, I’m surrounded by at least nine of them. I swing my swords in the air, the whooshing noise causing the shadow-walkers to take a step back. I flick the spark wheel of the lighter, holding the flame to my blades. They come alight with fire, and I can feel the heat against my knuckles. There. That’s better.

  I glance quickly back the SUV and barely see the fleeting image of Lincoln grasping Scarlett’s hand as they run into the distance. In that moment of inattention, the shadow-walkers surrounding me close the distance. I sink the sword in my left hand into one’s chest as another grips me around the throat. I pierce it in the chin and twist the blade. The shadow-walker’s inhuman screech rings through the night.

  I stumble backward, bumping into a demon, who wraps his arms around me. I see long blond hair from the corner of my eye and feel his hands riding up my sides.

  “That’s all right, my friends. I’ve got this one for now,” he mutters against my cheek, and the others back off in search of a new fight with the other Sicarri. I notice the slight hint of an accent in his voice. Scottish maybe? I can’t place it. I grunt, trying to get away from him, but he has me trapped in a bear hug.

  “Let me go,” I spit out through clenched teeth.

  “Iacta,” he whispers, his hot breath against my ear.

  The next second, my swords clang at my feet. I didn’t let them go, yet there they are. And here I am, defenseless in the arms of an enemy.

  “Quod,” he says, and the flames of my swords die just as the words pass through his teeth.

  “How are you doing that?” I ask, confused.

  “You think there’s only one type of magic? That pitiful fire that glows in the pit of you? That’s only just the beginning.” I tilt my head to see his smile, and the sinister pull of his lips makes my stomach turn.

  “I don’t understand,” I choke out, feeling the pressure of his arm around m
y throat. I fight against it, looking forward again.

  “You will,” he whispers once more into my ear, gripping my jaw before finally letting go and disappearing into the sea of demons surrounding us.

  I stumble next to Beckett, who’s more comfortable in the middle of all this carnage than I expected. Someone must have given him a dagger, because he flings it around him wildly but not without precision. Gunshots ring loudly in my ears, and I reach for my pistol. Once in hand, I begin shooting. I take down four or five demons and another shadow-walker. That’s when I see the lights in the distance.

  They’re headlights from what looks like Sicarri vehicles. There are at least ten vehicles, and they come screeching to a stop on the outskirts of the battle. We all freeze as Sicarri pour from the vehicles and attack any demon that gets in their way.

  I have to fight to keep the smile off my face when I lock eyes with McCade. He’s angry. He thought he had the upper hand. I’m not sure how the Sicarri knew we were in danger, but I’m so glad they found us.

  I take out a couple more demons after picking up my swords again, and it’s not long before the rest of them flee.

  We made it, Elijah, I think, my eyes searching through the crowd of Sicarri. I don’t see him right away, so I start to move. I’m trying not to jump to conclusions, but the worry settles deep in the pit of my stomach anyway. I catch sight of Soren and call him over with a nod. Willow follows behind him, tired, but otherwise unscathed.

  “You all right?” he asks, his breathing still labored from the fight.

  “Yeah, fine. Just looking for Elijah,” I say. “Have you seen him?”

  “Not yet. We got separated in the fight,” Soren tells me. “I’ll help you look for him.” I nod in thanks.

  We walk, calling his name, asking anyone if they’ve seen him. Willow follows behind us, sniffing the path. We learn that Lincoln made the call, telling the Sicarri we were in trouble, but still…no one has seen Elijah.

  And then it hits me. He’s not here.

  “Soren,” I say, pausing in my tracks. He does the same, but doesn’t turn his head to look at me. Willow lets out a bark that sounds more like a whimper. “Do you think—” I start to ask, but I fall short. The words refuse to escape, holding on in the hopes that if they aren’t voiced, they aren’t true.

  “Yeah, Karina. I do,” Soren whispers, and my eyes immediately swim with tears.

  My hands fly up to cover the sound of my sobs escaping when Soren falls to his knees. No, no, no. This can’t be happening again.

  They took him. They took Elijah.

  We’ll find you, I think, and though I don’t know how far this strange mental connection between us stretches, I hope more than ever that he hears me.

  One hour.

  It’s been one hour since Elijah was taken, and it only took me five minutes to stop crying and come up with a plan.

  “You’ve checked with all the other Sicarri in the area? Any news?” I ask Soren. Looking at him from the passenger seat, I almost feel like something is out of place and realize Willow is missing. She stayed behind, exhausted from the battle and in much need of some rest. She didn’t want to, but Soren put her in the car with Marcel and made him promise to take care of her. I check on Beckett in the backseat. He sighs heavily, like he does every time he hears me ask the same question about Elijah. I roll my eyes and return my gaze to the front.

  We’ve been driving for miles, searching for any sign of a place where demons could be squatting. I’m not stupid. I don’t expect to find Elijah sitting on the side of the road somewhere. No, if it’s Vara that’s involved, I know she’s taken him far from here already. But I still can’t stop myself from looking, and if by some off chance we find some kind of demon that has even the smallest bit of information, it’ll be worth it.

  “Should be getting the last call any minute now. I reached out to a couple of buddies as far as Tulsa. Nothing yet though,” Soren says as he adjusts his grip on the wheel.

  “Okay.” Even though I’ve asked the question in a hundred different ways, Soren still finds a way to answer every time.

  I roll the window down, feeling the air on my face. I take a deep breath, trying to calm myself from the inside out. The sun is up, and its warmth heats my face. I close my eyes for a moment, thinking, searching deep inside my own mind for an answer, for anything that can bring me closer to Elijah.

  And then I see it, a dark gray house, and a shadowed figure passing in front of the window as we drive by.

  “Stop the car,” I call to Soren, my eyes trained on the house. Expert as he is, he doesn’t slam on the breaks like I might have in the heat of the moment. Instead he slows, turning the vehicle until we come to a stop on the next street.

  “What did you see?” he asks, already stashing extra bullet clips for his gun in his pockets.

  “The gray house,” I say. “I saw something. A demon, I think.” I point and Soren nods.

  Beckett clears his throat, reminding us of his presence. He’s been so quiet since the fight.

  “Maybe you should stay here, Beckett. Keep guard of the vehicle and make sure no one comes sniffing around,” I offer and don’t pretend not to notice the relief that drips from his face.

  “It might be a good idea for you to take a gun instead of your swords. Try to be as inconspicuous as possible,” Soren says, his hand outstretched in an offering. He drops a pistol in my palm, and I clutch it tightly, wrapping my fingers around the metal. I don’t take my swords off though; I keep them sheathed on my back. I would never leave them behind, no matter where I was going.

  I snatch a couple of extra mags for myself and open the car door. Soren’s hand snakes out and stops me before I can fling it open all the way.

  “No matter what happens, we’re not giving up, okay?” He looks me in the eyes as the words leave his lips, and I fight back the tears that they bring.

  “Let’s just get this over with, okay? Maybe we can find something here.” I push forward. “Be back soon,” I call out to Beckett quietly as I close the door and follow Soren.

  We duck behind the houses until we’re behind the one directly in front of the gray house. This abandoned area makes it easier to sneak up on the place, since everything is overgrown. We crouch behind the fence, peeking through a hole, taking surveillance, and I notice a large spider web where the corner of the house and the fence meet. It’s huge, and as the wind blows the web, it shakes. The spider’s legs tighten on the strands.

  I hear Soren’s voice in the distance, but for some reason, it’s growing farther and farther away, until everything is muffled. Everything but one sound, coming from across the street. I peer through the hole in the fence once more, and that’s when I find where the sound is coming from.

  It’s a woman.

  She’s lying on the gravel driveway leading to the house, like she’s been hurt. Maybe she’s fallen. But the way her arm reaches toward me, almost like she can see me behind these planks of wood, makes me want to get up and help her. I take my eyes from the woman, looking around to see if anyone is near.

  Don’t look.

  I hear the voice in my head. It’s familiar, but it takes me a moment to place it. Only when I do, I wish I hadn’t. My grandma.

  I swing my eyes back to the woman on the ground and the familiarity of her face strikes me so hard through the chest that it knocks me backwards. It’s my grandma. But… it can’t be her. I scramble back up, but when I look through the hole again she’s gone.

  “Karina. Did you hear me? Are you okay?” Soren’s voice hits me over the head like a sledgehammer. I flinch at the sound of him, closing my eyes and clutching my chest as my heart races.

  “Karina?” Soren asks, louder this time, and I can hear the panic in his voice. I’m probably freaking him out, but my words haven’t caught up with my mind yet. I take in my surroundings as the tremors in my body begin to cease.

  “Karina, damn it. What the hell?” Soren questions.

  “I-I’m
okay. I’m good,” I stutter, still unsure of what just happened. “I… thought I saw something,” I explain, wrapping my arms around myself and stilling the shivers that threaten to overtake me.

  “What was that?” Soren asks, his eyes leveling with mine when they finally connect.

  “I’ll explain, but not right now. We need to get in there before someone sees us,” I say, still shaky. I can tell he’s not sure if I’m stable enough for a fight right now, and I don’t blame him. I straighten myself and let out a last unsteady breath before I get my head back in the game.

  “I’m good. I promise,” I say, mostly to reassure him, but maybe to reassure myself a little too.

  “All right.” He turns back to the hole in the fence.

  “We have no idea how many are in there,” I mumble.

  “No we don’t,” Soren says.

  “Ready?” I ask him. He stands in answer, and I adjust my grip on my pistol. Then I reach down and feel the spare clips in my pocket.

  “The side window, just there by the basement.” I point as we carefully approach the house.

  Shadow-walkers are different, and I’ve never understood the way they live. Their humanity is almost lost in the process of their burn. It’s like whatever makes us human is attached to the light inside us. When that burns out, everything changes. They hardly speak; they have no relationships with each other. They lose their intelligence. They just live, survive. They stay around each other, in packs. And they hunger for light and fire.

  Demons are even stranger. Shadow-walkers are easy to kill, no guilt. But when they steal an unburnt’s body, a small portion of that humanity comes back.

  I glance to the left and then to the right, making sure we’re clear. Then we make our way up the gravel driveway in a crouch. The crunching of rocks under my feet is loud to my ears.

  “I wish it wasn’t daylight,” I whisper to Soren once we make it to the side window. There is an old car parked in the driveway. Odd, since I’ve never actually seen a shadow-walker drive.

  Soren picks his finger up and brings it to his lips, reminding me to be quiet. I’m going to kick it in, Soren mouths, but I shake my head.