Sinful Magic: A Wing Slayer Novel

by Jennifer Lyon

  “Blood-born,” Carla said. “It has to have something to do with fertility witch blood. Maybe healing the heart? Regrowing it? Is that possible?”

  They all looked at Roxy as if she had the answers. She flushed, her emotions swirling. “I don’t know. Sex magic is supposed to help create pregnancies.” She thought back. “My mom did fertility ceremonies for mortal women wanting to get pregnant, and then for crops and plants … pretty much whatever needed to grow. Sometimes animal breeders used her, too. I never heard of the blood healing a heart.”

  “It’s been eleven years,” Key said. “Where would Liam have been all this time?”

  “He said it took him a decade to learn about fertility witches and me.” Roxy shivered and strived to stay in control. She had to help, not be weak.

  Key put his arm around her shoulder and pulled her close to him. His warmth eased her tight muscles and chased out the deep fear. “We’re just guessing right now.”

  “When Roxy wakes the dragon,” Sutton suggested, “maybe she can ask him. That critter obviously likes her.”

  Carla said, “Actually I have a theory about that, especially after hearing you tell the story ‘The Dragon’s Lover.’ Roxy, I think you have the soul of the dragon’s lover. In that story, Dyfyr’s lover said:

  Until death ripped her away

  Vowing to return one day

  “You vowed to return to him. He waited, now you’re here, and that’s why you can wake Dyfyr,” Carla said.

  “But …” she trailed off. She’d felt the dragon, heard him. Knew him. And since seeing him down in the gym, she felt like a piece of her was missing. Was it possible? Witches reincarnated, but they rarely if ever knew who they were in past lives. All these years, she’d craved love: real, soul-deep love.

  Suddenly, her throat grew tight and her chakras quivered with need. Then her power rushed out, spinning and making it hard to breathe. Like a memory, she could almost feel Dyfyr’s wings wrap around her and the two of them soaring across the skies. Almost feel his love, see him as he shifted to man form. Her magic reached for Dyfyr in a desperate painful need.

  “Your magic,” Key said roughly.

  She looked up, saw a flush riding his face. Felt the tension in his arm around her. She realized her magic was out, rushing around. “Oh, your bloodlust! Sorry.”

  He leaned down, brushing his mouth near her ear. “Not bloodlust, green eyes.”

  Her magic flared hotter.

  “You’re throwing enough sex magic to give a dead man a boner,” Phoenix said in a croaky voice.

  Axel and Sutton laughed.

  Heat bloomed in her chest and climbed up her face. She desperately tried to concentrate and call her power back. Her schema prickled and began to ache, churning out more and more desire as her powers throbbed. Horrified at her raging powers and lust, she pulled away from Key and tried to focus.

  “Jerks,” Ailish snapped, rising from the couch, walking over, and putting her hand on Roxy’s arm.

  In seconds she felt a bright, cool, and calming energy flowing into her, searching out her power and slowing it.

  “Roxy worked her ass off today to learn control. And you Neanderthals make fun of her, act like it’s funny that she’s hurting.”

  Roxy felt Ailish’s fury riding on the surface of her magic. She looked up to the witch, grateful for her support and her help. Her magic was returning to her chakras and the lust dialing back. “It’s okay, I’m going to have to get used to being—”

  “The hell it is. I know what it feels like, Roxy. A demon tortured me with lust for years. And Phoenix making crude remarks, the other idiots laughing—”

  “Shit, Roxy, I’m sorry,” Phoenix broke in. He moved behind Ailish, laying his hand on her shoulder. “Ailish went through hell. Your magic surprised me, and I mouthed off. I didn’t mean—”

  “It was cruel,” Ailish said. “She’s a fertility witch. Sex magic is her gift, and you all make it a joke.”

  “Oh hell,” Key said in a tight voice and reached toward her. “Roxy—”

  She backed up. If he touched her, she’d lose control again. “I’ll be right back.” She hurried down the stairs and went into the kitchen. She opened the fridge and looked for something cold, like maybe a black hole. Since she couldn’t find that, she settled on grabbing a bottle of water. Shutting the fridge, she turned and almost screamed. “Damn it!”

  “I’m sorry,” Key said, looking miserable with his hands hanging down at his side, his jaw tight.

  She shook her head. “You didn’t do anything. I’m the one that let my magic, and hormones, get out of control. It’s just that learning I might be the reincarnation of Dyfyr’s lover … it unlocked something in me and suddenly I could almost remember what it felt like to be her, the dragon’s lover. I felt Dyfyr’s pain in you down in the gym earlier. He loved her so much. Hurts so much. I hate that.” She twisted off the top and drank some water. This was what she was, what she was becoming. A witch ruled by hormones and lust.

  Give a dead man a boner. Yeah, there was some magic to be proud of.

  She closed her eyes against the taunt in her head.

  “Oh hell, Roxy, don’t cry.”

  She realized hot tears were sliding down her face. She turned away, setting the bottle on the counter, and put her hands flat on the cool granite. “It’s the hormones or something. I’ll stop. Just give me a minute.” She squeezed her eyes shut, clenching her teeth to get control.

  “Screw this,” he growled, taking her arm, turning her around, and pulling her against his T-shirt-covered chest. He wrapped one arm around her back and pressed her face close to him with his hand.

  She inhaled his scent, soap from the shower over the dark spice of him.

  “You have no idea what you do to me. Your magic is more than sexy, it makes me feel. It touches me and fills up the empty places. And that’s scaring the ever-lovin’ shit out of me.”

  “Why?” She brought up a hand to wipe her eyes, done with that weak crying crap.

  He tugged her head back and looked down to her face. “I don’t want to feel, not like that. Not ever again.”

  His words were so raw, so honest. Her magic felt his pain and tried to stroke him. She asks softly, “Do you still love her? The woman who died?” How terrible that must have been for him.

  He stared down at her, blue flecks darkening his gray eyes, and his hand wrapped around her hair tightened. “I carry the guilt every second of every day.”

  Her heart squeezed for him. “What happened?”

  He let go of her, walked to the fridge, and pulled out a beer. After opening it and taking a drink, he leaned against the counter across from her. “We were seventeen. Living on the streets, you grow up fast. But Viv, she was different. Not so hard, but smart. She loved food, and her dream was to have her own little restaurant someday. I’d be an artist, she’d be a chef … we were in love. Then she got pregnant.”

  “You have a child?” Boy or girl? How old? Where was he or she living?

  He looked past her and went on as if she hadn’t asked the question. “We were young and stupid enough to believe in dreams, to believe we could have a family. I thought love was enough, that I’d made a clean break from that shit I grew up in. I never told her about the Dragon Tear. I kept it hidden, sure that none of it would touch her. And I’d protect our child … so stupid.”

  Oh dear crone. This time, she stayed quiet and let him tell his story.

  He looked up and said, “I was both working in construction with Phoenix and doing freelance art jobs, and Viv found a job as a cook. We had an apartment. I worked late one night on a mural. When I got home …” His face tightened and he took a long drink of his beer. Then he said, “I smelled the blood, then heard Viv’s cries. My first thought was that something had gone wrong with the baby. She was just over three months pregnant. Then I smelled copper, and I knew. It was a little one-bedroom place. I got inside and found Liam cutting up Vivian, demanding to know where
the Tear was.” He jerked his gaze to Roxy. “She didn’t know anything about the goddamned Tear.”

  “Oh, Kieran.” It was all she said, all she could say.

  “I pulled out my knife and attacked Liam, and both of us got cut up. Then he broke away from me, putting about ten feet between us. It was the perfect opportunity for me, I knew I could kill him then. I took aim with my knife.”

  She remembered Key saying he doesn’t miss when he throws his knife.

  “It was all happening so fast. I heard Viv cry out my name. She’d gotten up and run toward me at the same time I threw my knife at Liam.”

  Roxy’s heart pounded; bile burned up her throat. His gaze had drained to the color of hot mercury.

  “He grabbed Vivian, jerking her in front of him. My knife hit her in the throat.”

  Her knees went weak. She grabbed the counter behind her and said, “Oh God.”

  Key stared at her, his gaze brutal. “She died in my arms, able to say only one last word, ‘Why?’ I was never sure if she was asking why Liam attacked her or why I killed her and our baby.”

  Horrified for him, she saw the haunted looked in his eyes, and it crashed in her chest, leaving her wordless.

  “That’s when I began to draw the truth of myself—the dark and violent world I know. It’s what I am, and it follows me like a foul odor.”

  She pushed off the counter and took a step toward him. “It wasn’t your fault!”

  There was no mercy for himself in his eyes. “I killed her with my knife, her and our baby. She loved me and trusted me. I didn’t warn her, didn’t tell her about the Dragon Tear, or that I came from a sadistic, screwed-up gene pool, or that I was a witch hunter. If she’d never met me, Liam would have left her alone and she’d be alive.”

  His voice was tight with guilt. Her heart broke for him. She crossed the kitchen and pressed into his arms. He stiffened. She wouldn’t let him do this. “I’m not Vivian, Kieran. And I know about Liam, the Tear, I know it all.”

  He sighed, the tension easing in his muscles. He set his beer down and touched her face. “I want to show you something.” He stepped back, took her hand, and said, “Come with me.” He led her down the stairs into the gym. “One second.” He dropped her hand, strode across the mat, picked up his overnight bag, and walked back. Then he grabbed her hand, and they headed to a weight bench. He sat, then tugged her to sit on his lap.

  She hesitated, wanting to stay calm, in control, and sitting on his lap would make that difficult.

  He rubbed his thumb over her hand. “It’s easier if you let me hold you. It keeps the bloodlust down.”

  “That’s a great line, hunter,” she said, but she settled on his thighs. She would keep her magic contained and her chakras closed, she thought fiercely. Even with the feel of his hard thighs beneath her, his left arm around her back, his hand resting on her leg. She focused on watching his right hand dip into the bag and then pull out his sketchbook.

  “I want you to see through my eyes.” He opened it to the picture he’d already shown her. “I don’t see your magic here, just you, and that’s pretty damned fine. But once you let me bring out some of your magic …” He began to turn the page.

  Her stomach fluttered with nerves. She could hear the sound of the page turning and wasn’t sure she wanted to see this. And then he revealed the drawing. She sucked in her breath. She was sitting in the corner of his couch, wearing only the black yoga pants. She had her right arm across her stomach and her breasts spilled over like they were too full, her nipples erect. Her skin glowed with a golden shimmer that seemed to take on all the colors of a sunset. She didn’t know how he did it, how he captured those colors dancing over her skin.

  Against the backdrop of her flushed skin and fiery golden shimmer, a crystal teardrop hung on a silver chain and was nestled between her breasts. It was silvery clear, yet she thought she caught colors simmering in it if she tilted her head. Then they vanished, and reappeared. “Is that Dyfyr’s Tear?”

  Kieran said, “I didn’t intend to draw that there, but then I had to.”

  “Do you see colors in it?” she asked, staring at the drop.

  “No.” He turned to look at her. “Do you?”

  “Almost, I don’t know how to explain it. Flashes, glimpses, then I turn my head, and it’s gone.”

  “Must be your magic. The real Tear has colors, but even I can’t draw that kind of magic.”

  “It’s painfully exquisite. Hard to look at, yet hard not to.” She reached out, touching the tip of her finger to it, almost feeling the hot dampness.

  “I know it’s too dangerous, but I would give anything to see that Tear on you.” He seemed to shake himself and added softly, “Look at your face.”

  She saw her chin was up, her mouth full, relaxed and parted. Her green eyes were looking right at Kieran, full of confidence. So certain. So … rich with more than sex. That same feeling she’d had while he drew her washed over her now; hot rivers of desire, the longing to pull Kieran to her, and knowing … what? That she could give him something no one else could.

  “Do you see it, Roxy?” His voice was throttled low. “The beauty? The fire? The radiance in you when you let your magic surface? Roxy, this is you. It’s more than sexual beauty, it’s magic. And so goddamned enticing it makes my guts twist just looking.” He turned his face to hers, his gaze magnetic. “It’s you. And when I look at you, I know that if I fell for you, if I let myself care, my feelings for you would be a hundred times more powerful than what I felt for Vivian.” He touched his finger to the Tear between her breasts in the picture. “And then, somehow, I’d destroy you. Just like Vivian.”

  He thought if he loved her he’d destroy her? That wasn’t even logical, but fears like that usually weren’t.

  She touched his face. “Did you ever think that maybe together we’ll be stronger? The curse will break, you’ll be free of your bloodlust, I’ll get my high magic, and we’ll work together. We’ll defeat your brother and safeguard that Tear.” And maybe she could teach him to trust love, to trust himself.

  Bits of blue flared in his gray eyes. “You make me want that, Roxy. Want to believe we can really have something together.” He leaned in and kissed her.

  “Key?” Axel called from the stairs.

  Roxy scrambled off his lap. Key folded the sketchbook and put it away, then answered, “Yeah.”

  “We need to go. Darcy and Carla got a text that a witch is missing.”

  Key was the last one to get back to Phoenix’s house. Roxy, Axel, Darcy, Phoenix, Ailish, Carla, and Sutton were around the big table. As soon as he walked in, Roxy’s scent surfed over the dinner aromas and hit him hard.

  Dark chocolate; her magic was rising.

  He went straight to the kitchen sink to wash his hands and saw his veins swelling, turning dark with the acid craving for her blood. Lust pounded down his spine. After drying his hands, he grabbed a beer from the fridge and went around the granite bar to the table. There was an empty chair next to Roxy.

  She set a dish in front of him heaped with a BBQ beef sandwich, potato salad, and fruit. “You must be starved. I fixed you a plate.”

  “Thanks.” His throat tightened. It was a small gesture, something he saw the other bonded hunters and witches do all the time for one another.

  “After I left you tonight, I went by your condo. I have a couple recruits wiring a new alarm system right now,” Sutton said. “I’ll go by and test it later tonight.”

  Key glanced up at the hunter across from him. “Good. Liam’s going to make another move soon. His desperation is rising. He really thought I’d leave both Roxy and the Tear in my loft.” He took a drink of beer, washing down his rage.

  Roxy set down her fork. “Where is he? What’s he doing? Darcy said you rescued the missing witch and she’s okay.”

  He looked at her. “We did. She sent a text that she thought she was being followed. Smart of her to send an emergency text like that.”

  “Eme
rgency text?”

  Carla set down her glass of water. “Sutton, Darcy, and I have set up an emergency text system. If a witch is threatened or has been taken by a rogue and can alert us, the hunters try to find her. If she is able to keep her phone with her, we tap into the GPS and find her quicker.”

  “Impressive.”

  Key told her, “We arrived at the witch’s house just as the rogue broke in. Before he died, the rogue told me Liam is at the Rogue Cadre headquarters. Said he and Quinn Young are tight. We dumped the rogue’s body close to their headquarters, but we can’t get too close.” Frustration coiled in his stomach. He had to get to Liam. “It’s protected by mini–Death Daggers.”

  Roxy’s eyes were huge. “What is that?”

  “Quinn Young is the leader of the rogues. He bargained with Asmodeus and got the Immortal Death Dagger. That thing can kill immortals. It’s burned into Young’s arm and is damned creepy. Now we’ve learned he’s growing mini–death daggers that protect their headquarters.”

  “Kieran! You didn’t get too close to those things, did you?”

  He could feel her worry for him. “No. I’m not going to get killed and leave you without protection.” Or someone to tame her schema and feed her magic. She needed him alive.

  “He did use his knife to save me. I was hauling the rogue’s body, planning to drop it at the rogue headquarters, then from there head over to Key’s condo and look at the alarm system. But I got too close, and the fun, started. Kieran saw the dagger coming and threw his knife, knocking it off the path before it hit me,” Sutton said. “Then we played a game of chicken because hotshot rocket-arm just had to have his knife back.”

  Phoenix laughed. “Sutton and I flew overhead, drawing the daggers up while Key ran in and got the knife.”

  “I like that knife,” Key said and took another bite of his sandwich.

  “You could have been killed! All of you!” Roxy said. “Why would you do that?”

  “Because they are idiots,” Ailish announced. “And because they know that the only antidote to the Immortal Death Dagger is the blood of a soul mirror.” She turned her face toward Roxy. “Phoenix and Sutton made sure the dagger didn’t hit Key. They both have soul mirrors who could save them. But they are still idiots.”