Nightsoul

by McKenzie Hunter

  Distraction was my favorite weapon in my quiver, so I was hyperaware when it was used against me. But his dropping the glamour did distract me. I would have preferred to use offensive magic instead of hiding behind my wall of protection.

  “What did you do?” he asked.

  “Erected it, like I did when I borrowed magic from others.”

  “This isn’t just a basic ward,” he said, still considering my cocoon of protection. “Maybe this is your basic ward, when you use your magic.” He sounded pleased. “It’s uniquely Erin. I can’t break it.”

  Which meant it was probably elven magic. Which was fine, but I needed to learn when to tap into it. The thought made me frustrated with the way I had left things with my father. It was apparent there were plenty of things I needed to learn from him. I dropped the ward and Mephisto quickly removed any space it had put between us.

  “Glamours. I need to learn to do them.”

  He frowned.

  “What?”

  “I don’t know if you’ll be able to do them. Neither Oedeus nor Malific could. That was one of the advantages we had over them. But you will be able to do things others can’t, and that will follow your bloodline.” There was hesitation in his voice.

  “Because I’m a demi, I’ll be limited?”

  “Not at all. You’re a demi with elven abilities. I suspect, my demigoddess, the things you will be able to do will far exceed what you cannot,” he whispered against my lips. “You are far from limited.” There was more than his typical spark of curiosity and intrigue. His eyes were pools of desire and craving, and the heat of his body enveloped me.

  Mephisto kissed me, awakening sensations I hadn’t known existed. He claimed my mouth with kisses that were soft but firm, tracing them along my jaw until he made his way to my ear. His breath was warm. I shuddered from the delicate and yearning touch. How could one man be simultaneously voracious heat and gentle allure?

  “What’s your name?” I asked when the kiss ended. He’d shown me his true face.

  A wicked smile hovered at the corners of his lips. “Mephisto.”

  Oh, yeah. There he is.

  His lips crushed into mine as he backed me against the wall, running a delicious path from my lips to my neck. Firm, delicate hands caressed my breasts as I arched into him. Tangling my fingers through his hair, I pulled him closer, tasting the intensity of his kiss and the hardness of his body.

  His name, our history, and his history in the Veil was overshadowed by his touch. The heat that was left by his barest touch, the way he moaned my name between kisses. His raspy rough whispers calling me his demigoddess as he slipped my shirt off and nipped and licked the exposed skin, then trailed his lips back up to mine. I quickly started to unbutton his shirt, fighting the urge to rip it off him. His hand inched over my waist, kneading my skin, traveling to the edge of my panties.

  A throat clearing had us pulling apart and me crossing my arms over my chest to cover my half-exposed breasts.

  “Clayton, hi,” I fumbled out, dropping to my knees to retrieve my shirt and quickly put it on.

  Expressionless, Clayton’s steps were slow and measured as he moved toward us with the same sly-footed ease that had left him undetected as he entered the room.

  Heat warmed my cheeks and the bridge of my nose. I didn’t embarrass easily when it came to sex. I’m pretty sure at some point in my life, I was doing it in front of an audience or at the very least had been heard. But under Clayton’s appraising gaze, I felt uncomfortable. His gaze swept from me to give a look of castigation to Mephisto.

  Mephisto’s eyes narrowed on Clayton, and whatever passed between them in their silent communication left them glaring at each other.

  “I have magic,” I blurted, needing something to break the tension. Clayton didn’t dislike me, but he definitely disliked me and Mephisto together.

  “Yes, I can tell.” His voice was soft and warm, diametrically opposed to the stern look he was still leveling at Mephisto.

  “We were practicing?” I kept on. Pretty soon I’d be prattling.

  “Magic?” he inquired, brows raised.

  Yeah, practicing magic. Trying to make each other’s clothes disappear and making the other reach the height of pleasure. Under Clayton’s scrutiny, I willed the color to leave my face.

  “What are you doing here?” Mephisto asked Clayton, rebuttoning his shirt.

  “You’ve always had an open door policy, M. What’s changed?” he teased.

  “No, you’ve always acted as if I had an open door policy,” Mephisto countered in a tight voice. It was obvious he was considering revoking any liberties he had to his house.

  Clayton dragged his eyes from Mephisto. “Magic now. Your restrictions were removed by your father?” There was uncertainty in his voice.

  I nodded.

  “Elf?”

  When I confirmed, another look passed between them. Clayton didn’t question anymore but instead busied himself with putting away the weapons.

  “Let me get the sword for you,” Mephisto said.

  I followed him upstairs, with Clayton not too far behind. I guess we had earned ourselves a chaperone.

  Mephisto went to his office and returned with the sword but didn’t look at our chaperone as he offered it to me. Out of my periphery, I could see Clayton watching us with a stringent look, so different than what I was used to. Irritation and curiosity piqued simultaneously, and before I could ask what his problem was with Mephisto and me, Mephisto spoke up.

  “You’ve only had your magic for two days. Practice, and we’ll meet up again and see where you are. What I need to show you.”

  “What we need to show her,” Clayton said. “We still don’t know the extent of her magic. Where you are weak, one of us is stronger. That combination will work best for this situation.”

  When a knowing look passed between the two of them, I knew we weren’t just talking about magic.

  With everything that had taken place over the past few days, waiting a day or two to find out was fine with me. Sword in hand, I waved a hasty goodbye.

  CHAPTER 24

  The same relief I heard in Dr. Sumner’s voice when I contacted him for an appointment, after leaving Mephisto’s, shone on his face.

  When he got out of his car, his lips lifted into a tight-lipped smile. He was dressed in a black t-shirt with Run DMC across it in silver letters, a dark-blue jacket, loose-fitting jeans, and his new oversized prescription-less glasses. His beard had filled out. I couldn’t force a smile; instead I looked at him, bewildered. He looked like a professor at a school I wasn’t cool enough to attend.

  Was I unknowingly involved in a ludicrous game of fashion chicken? Would his attire become increasingly cliched or eclectic, his beard transform from a low tidy scruff to something long and unmanageable? His slightly disheveled hair become an unruly mess? And his glasses larger and larger to distract from his light-blue eyes, angular jaw, kind resting smile, and seemingly self-loathed studious good looks?

  “This is what you look like when you’re resting at home?”

  He shrugged. “You wanted to see me.”

  “It didn’t have to be today.” I had expected him to give me a time the next day. I hadn’t expected him to tell me to meet him at his office in an hour.

  He unlocked the door, letting me in first. Once he was inside, I closed the door with a flick of my finger.

  He quickly turned. “You have magic?”

  “I have magic.” I beamed.

  Concern peeked through before he turned from me. “Have a seat. Coffee?”

  “No, I’m fine.”

  “This isn’t a tequila-type visit, is it?” His voice was tight, the humor in it forced.

  “No, but things are complicated.” So complicated.

  “You and complicated have formed a bond and seem to have a contentious relationship,” he said, preparing himself a cup of tea. Once seated, he took a long sip from his cup, placed it on the table, and grabbed his not
epad and pen. “How is Erin?”

  I gave him more than a casual update. The dam broke and I flooded him with information. The unabridged version. This was no longer therapy but me venting. Even my therapy was a complicated mess.

  “Did the demon want you because you’re a demi-elf?”

  I laughed, not at his question, but at him referring to me as a demi-elf.

  “Why demi-elf?” I asked.

  “Why demigod?” he countered. “From what you’ve told me, it seems like your elven magic is the most powerful. Your wards and spells can’t be broken by gods. Demi-elf seems more apropos.”

  Dr. Sumner was just bizarre and he leaned into it. I liked it. I smiled but kept my opinion to myself.

  “No, I don’t know if it had anything to do with me being a demi-elf. Harrison was indebted to the demon, and I was the acceptable currency. Never make a deal with a demon,” I told him.

  “I’ll remember that.” There was a spark of curiosity intermingled with fear.

  I was reluctant to continue, until he urged me to with an expectant look.

  “You were right, I wasn’t responsible for the incident. I didn’t kill him. I was set up by my father.”

  I told him about meeting my father, finding out the WIB was my aunt, and the reason behind my birth. He had managed to keep his face stolid up until that point, then a look of contempt and disgust hardened his features. It took time for him to usher it from his face.

  Dr. Sumner placed the notepad on the table and ran his hand over his beard, seemingly having problems processing everything I’d told him.

  Imagine living it.

  “Your dad wasn’t being malicious when he initially took your memories. He thought he was doing the right thing.”

  “Yet he screwed up. My life changed because of it.”

  “It did,” he agreed. “How does that make you feel?”

  I didn’t call him out on his cliched question because of the sincerity in his voice and the gentle query in his eyes.

  How did it make me feel?

  “I feel…wrong,” I admitted. “It’s hard to feel any other way when you find out that to one parent, you’re an instrument for revenge, and the other, an escape tool.”

  He leaned forward, holding my gaze, his eyes soft and comforting. “Someone else’s actions can’t define who you are, Erin. There’s nothing wrong with you.”

  It was becoming increasingly hard to look at him, to be in this intense state. Not feeling bad about things didn’t change the fact my mother wanted me dead.

  I jerked my eyes from his and lay back on the sofa.

  “Being human, learning all of this, does it bother you?” I asked.

  We lapsed into a long silence. It was so long that I pulled my attention from the ceiling and turned to look at him.

  He looked contemplative as he bit his bottom lip. “Let’s continue discussing you.”

  My diversion effort had either failed or he didn’t want to admit that it did. I suspected a combination of the two.

  My emotional well was dry, and I didn’t want to discuss things anymore. “There’s not much more to say,” I told him. What more was there to report other than my life was a hot mess and I needed to fix it?

  “What do you plan to do about your mother?”

  That was an excellent question; what do I do about a woman who had already sent an assassin for me?

  “I don’t know.” I shrugged. “Try not to get killed by her.” I glanced at the clock on my phone. I’d been talking for nearly an hour and a half. “I should go.”

  “You don’t have to,” he offered. I knew if I felt depleted from talking about it, he had to feel that way from hearing it. But he looked earnest.

  “No, I should go. I really need to figure things out,” I told him as I stood up. “Thank you for seeing me today.”

  He nodded. “No problem.” There was another stretch of silence. I took that as my cue to leave. Before I could make it to the door, he said, “I’m sending my release orders tomorrow. You will not be court ordered to see me any longer.”

  The breath that I sucked in caught in the lump that formed in my throat.

  “You don’t want to see me again,” I croaked out, turning to face him. Why did this hurt? It shouldn’t hurt. I’d spent a greater part of my time with him trying to get away, and now I felt like my visits with him were one of the few existing tendrils that linked me to my former life. And he’d just snapped it. I blinked, but my vision still blurred.

  “No, not at all.” He came to his feet moving humanly slow, making me appreciate the normalcy of typical human grace and speed. Nothing preternatural about him.

  He placed his hand on my shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “You can see me whenever you need me. I’m here. It just won’t be court ordered. You were seeing me for something you were never guilty of.”

  I blew out the breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding.

  “Will you tell them that?”

  He shook his head. “I think the fewer people who know what you are the better.”

  I nodded, speaking still more difficult than it should be. He wasn’t wrong. How would humans deal with the new information: elves, gods, the Huntsmen, the Abyssus, and me, the elf/god hybrid?

  “Thank you for keeping my secret, and I’ll keep yours.”

  He furrowed his brow. “What secret?”

  “By day you’re a mild-mannered therapist hiding behind his eclectic glasses, and at night you take them off and fight crime.”

  Chuckling, he pushed them farther up his nose. “Nothing that exciting. At night I teach a class twice a week,” he said. “Not as interesting as hearing about the day in the life of a demi-elf.”

  “You’re committed to demi-elf?”

  Studying me, it seemed like he was determining how I felt about it. Perhaps payback for all the jokes about his glasses. “See you next week, Erin.”

  I gave him a quick wave. As I headed to my car, a tinge of dread snaked around me at the thought that if it was up to my mother, that would never happen.

  CHAPTER 25

  Sitting in my apartment under the withering gaze of Madison and Cory, saying my plans out loud, did make me seem reckless and dangerously irresponsible rather than proactive. My conversation with Dr. Sumner made me realize I needed to go on the offensive and not wait around for another attack.

  “So,” Madison started out slowly, “you want to use your magic to track your mother the way she would have used it to track you?”

  Madison’s eyes followed Cory as he buzzed around the house straightening things.

  I nodded. “I just need to see her.” Frustrated, I shoved my hands through my hair. Meet her, kill her, imprison her again. One of those things. There wasn’t a concrete end goal. I’d do whatever would make me safe.

  “You’re being reckless. There, I said it,” Cory griped, crossing his arms over his chest and plopping down on the sofa next to Madison. The purse of her lips indicated she agreed.

  “I’d rather be the hunter than the hunted. That’s what she’s doing right now.”

  “She killed her own brother, who was an Arch-deity and you’re—”

  “A demigod, and a quarter elf,” Cory interrupted. “Because your mother is a god, and your father is half human and half elf. And are you even sure you can do elven spells? You were able to do elven spell with Elizabeth and your father’s help to lift your restriction. But can you do them alone? And I know you said your ward stopped Mephisto, but that’s all you seem to have so far. One magic experience with your sociopathic aunt and your absentee father. So, do you just plan to wing the elven magic part?” Cory was on his feet again, running his fingertips along the slats of the blinds.

  “I’m not being reckless. What options do I have?”

  Cory blew out an exasperated breath before washing his hands over his face. “Are you sure it was her who sent the shifter-hawk after you?”

  “Who else? I don’t have a lot of enemies.”r />
  Cory and Madison looked at each other then me.

  “What?”

  “Are you sure about that?” Cory worked at a smile that didn’t quite make it to his eyes. “You are rather”—he stopped to search for the right word—“well, you’re like an M-80 when people are expecting a little sparkler.”

  I shot him a dirty look.

  “I like that you’re a mini bomb,” he went on, “storming into places like you own them, guns blazing, wreaking havoc when needed, stabbing vampire Masters, which you did the day before yesterday. Did you forget you did that? Maybe it wasn’t Malific, it was him.”

  He didn’t think it was Landon any more than I did. It would be easy to fight the threat we knew about rather than the one we didn’t. No matter how difficult, Landon could be handled. Malific was a wild card.

  “It wasn’t Landon,” I confirmed. “We don’t have hawk-shifters here and I’m pretty sure he has no knowledge of the Veil.”

  Cory plumped a cushion vigorously. “I know. An Arch-deity weakened is…what? She can’t create people, but there are a lot of levels below that that still might make a force you can’t beat.”

  “I don’t need to beat her, I just need to imprison her again.”

  The situation had to be handled but I didn’t want to kill my mother. I didn’t want her to kill me, either.

  “We know four gods,” Cory said. I glared at him. “Fine, we know four gods and an ‘Erin.’ What’s the plan? Lure her somewhere where the Omni ward can be placed?”

  I nodded. “But first we need to find her. I don’t plan to confront her yet. I just want to know what I’m up against. All I have are secondhand accounts. I want to find her, see her—”

  “And then be killed by her,” Madison interjected. Worry made her sound harsher than she intended. That’s what I hoped, anyway.

  “I think you need to make amends with your father. You have abilities that no one other than you, Elizabeth, and Nolan have. Elven magic. Only two people were able to remove the restriction on your magic. If you want to stop her, find a way to imprison her in a manner that’s linked to your elven magic. I don’t think your ward will be enough. Find something that’s bound to you only. That only you can control.” Madison paused. “Or kill her.” She revealed that last option with such cool indifference that Cory and I both snapped our eyes in her direction.