Key saw four witch hunters materialize on the grounds and attack the rogues. The battle grew hot and bloody in seconds, the sounds echoing. Flying to his side of the church, Key said, “Now!” He flew straight for the window and hit it with his shoulder, and the glass popped out. His wings tangled. Key pulled them to his back, dropped to the floor in a roll, and came up holding his knife.
Phoenix, his wings tight to his sides, exploded through the glass and sailed up to the ceiling, catching hold of the rafters and hanging there.
“Last time I listen to you, dragon boy,” he bellowed.
Key ignored him and took in the scene. There weren’t any rogues, just the bodies of Roxy’s parents. Her mother was drained, her father had his throat cut. Key strode up to them. “He killed them and left. Murdered her parents.” He stared down at the witch who had summoned Dyfyr’s soul into Key. He didn’t feel anything now but sadness. He closed his eyes.
“I have to tell Roxy.” He glanced at her father. The man who’d fired her for releasing her magic. Such a waste. His Roxy was a special woman, and Key couldn’t fathom how her father had just thrown her away.
“Key, there’s more trouble,” Phoenix said. “Hell’s breaking loose all over.”
He turned and ran out.
Ailish’s living room was turning into a witch triage. They’d helped four witches the hunters had rescued and healed any injuries the men had suffered, then sent them back out. It was a hellish night.
What about her parents? She hadn’t heard anything yet.
More witches were taken. The alarms kept going off; the Circle Witches were all trying to help by checking to make sure other witches weren’t missing that they didn’t know about. They were working with Ram in the kitchen, and everyone’s nerves were frayed.
And she’d felt a strange sadness coming from Key. She knew in her heart her parents were dead. He was just waiting to tell her in person. Ram knew it too. Roxy was pretty sure Phoenix had told him; she could see it in his blue eyes.
Her baby wouldn’t have any grandparents now. Her chest hurt. Ram pressed a bottle of green tea into her hand. “Go sit down.” She took the tea and walked back into the living room, sinking onto the couch. Her father had probably blamed her as he died.
Her phone rang, and she took it out and was surprised to see the screen. She answered, “Shayla, where are you?”
“In a motel.” Her voice was thin and strained. “They left me here.”
Roxy sat up, slapping the tea on the coffee table. “What?” She clutched the phone tighter. “They?”
“Rogues. Two rogues. They’ve had me since … what day is it?”
When her cousin hadn’t returned her calls, she’d thought … “Shayla, are they there now? Are you hurt? I’ll send help!”
“I’m alone. I need you, Roxy. You have to help me.” Her voice broke. “They cut off my schema.”
Cut off—her mind rebelled. She jumped to her feet. “You’ll die! Tell me where you are!” Her head spun with the horror. Their schema was a representation of their true self. If it died off naturally, then they became mortal, but to cut it off before that would kill them.
“Glassy Waves Motel. C-8. Hurry—”
“I’ll send hunters and—”
“You can’t. I’m Awakening, or I was.”
She was struck dumb. “Awakening?” That meant that she’d begun to spread infertility. Shit, she couldn’t just stand here. “Okay, I’ll come.” She hung up. Looked around. Keys. Where were Kieran’s keys? Wait, she had magic. She held out her hand and called the keys to his truck. They materialized in her palm.
She got up and headed to the front door. When she opened it, sirens blared.
“Roxy, what are you doing?” Darcy chased her, followed by Ram.
“My cousin, she’s at the Glassy Waves Motel. Rogues cut off her schema. She’d dying. I’m going—”
Ram grabbed her arm. “No. I’ll send Axel.”
“You can’t.” She looked at Darcy. “That secret? It’s that Shayla is an infertility witch. She said she was beginning to Awaken. I have to go.”
Darcy’s face went tight. “Doesn’t matter, we can’t let you go alone.”
“She’s dying! She’s all I have left. I know my parents are dead—”
“I’ll take her.”
Roxy jumped at the smooth voice behind her. Jerking around, she looked at Linc. Tall, handsome, and gold eyes. “You could end up sterile.”
“You saved my life. I owe you. Let’s go.” He took her arm and said to Ram, “I’ll protect her, and you get Key to fly his lizard ass over there.” He tugged her to his car, a low-slung Viper, settled her into the passenger seat, got in, and fired up the car, and they roared out.
“Thank you.” She didn’t really know this hunter.
He down-shifted around a corner and said, “I wasn’t myself when we met. I am really sorry for the things I said. Your magic saved my soul. That’s not a debt I’ll forget, Roxy.”
“I hope it can save my cousin.”
“Sugar, if you can pull my soul back from the claws of Asmodeus, you can save her. I’m a betting man, little witch, and I’d bet my soul on you any day.”
She took a breath. “You’re much nicer when you’re not chained down.” Wincing she said, “That came out wrong.”
He let out a bark of laughter.
Her phone rang. Looking at the screen, she answered quickly. “Key?”
“Tell me, baby.”
She thought he’d yell at her, lecture her, be mad. But no, he understood that she had to do this. It all spilled out. “Shayla, she’s an infertility witch, said rogues had her, cut her schema off … and then—” Her mind shifted gears midthought. “They’re dead, aren’t they?” Her parents were gone, she knew it.
“Yes. I’m sorry. But right now we’re going to get your cousin. I’m flying as fast as I can, I’ll meet you there. Until you see me, do what Linc tells you. Swear to me, Roxy.”
“I swear,” she said as Linc circled the motel and then pulled in.
“See you in a few.” He hung up.
Linc swung the car around and backed into a space in front of the door. Roxy fought her urge to jump out, but she waited for Linc to come and stand by the door to C-8, knife in one hand. “I’m going into the room first.”
She nodded and hurried to the door. Linc’s long, lean body was taut and ready to spring. He strode in, barely looking at Shayla, instead checking the bathroom and closet.
Roxy stopped inside the room. The only sound was Shayla’s harsh, shallow breathing. The room was standard, small table and two chairs below the window. Dresser on the left with a TV, bed on the right.
Shayla lay on the bed, wearing a green T-shirt, panties, and too many cuts. Her right thigh was wrapped in a bloodstained towel. Her face was waxy pale, her dark blond hair sweaty. Her eyes were closed, her chest barely moving.
Roxy wasted no more time. She went around the other side, climbed on the bed, and knelt by Shayla’s right thigh.
Linc came to the other side of the bed. His face cracked into lines; his eyes tightened.
Roxy pulled off the towels. “Oh sweet crone.” The cut was rough and brutal, around two to three inches in diameter. Her inner thigh looked like a chunk of raw meat, there was so much blood. Roxy began opening chakras, desperate to save her.
“We’ll put her in the car,” Linc said. “You can—”
Roxy shook her head. “No time. We have to stop the bleeding.” Her power moved a steady pace up and down her spine. She worked to gather more and more and began to push it higher and faster. Finally her fifth released, and she focused it into a stream down her arm. She put a hand on the bloody wound.
Wicked hot pain burned into her fingers. Sharp. As if her hand were being held over an inferno, each layer of skin torn away. Her stomach twisted. The pain traveled up her arm, through her skin, searing every nerve, then down her side and hit her schema.
Her fifth chakra closed. He
r magic weakened. She squeezed her eyes shut, thinking of the dragon, reaching …
The chakra quivered but the pain was too intense, she couldn’t keep her concentration. She could feel Shayla’s life force dimming. “No!” She fought harder, trying to push through the pain.
“I need Kieran!”
Key heard her cry in his head. She was so desperate, she reached out to him mentally. “I’m here, Roxy.” Landing in the parking lot, he was close enough now to clearly feel her distress. He could smell a faint residue of rogues, but nothing fresh. What the hell were Liam and the rogues up to? He was going to help Roxy stabilize her cousin and get them out of here. He folded his wings, ran across the lot, and shoved open the door. He automatically noted Linc standing at the side of the unconscious witch on the bed, but the sight of Roxy made his chest hurt. Her face was pale and tear-stained; he could feel her pain. The room smelled of blood and sweaty desperation with an edge of heavy grief.
Her magic was sparse. He hurried to her, got on the bed, and put his thighs around hers. She was wearing a simple little cotton dress, and the back was damp with sweat, her scent acrid. She was so tense, he couldn’t get much of her pain.
She’d been trying to do this alone!
“I’m going to do a perimeter check,” Linc said and left the room.
Key covered Roxy’s hand with his. He curled his arm around her and pulled her against him. “Let go of the pain, sweetheart. You’re clenching, holding on too tight. Relax against me and Dyfyr.” He spread his hand on her stomach, trying to encourage her chakras.
Her frozen magic thawed and began rushing, and Key started drawing off the pain. It was hot and vicious; he had no idea how she had endured it. He was used to pain, built to withstand it, but she wasn’t. He felt the dragon wings begin working, helping her with her magic until a steady flow of healing energy streamed out. Key held her, siphoning off the pain and funneling her magic while listening for any sounds of trouble.
“Not enough. Need more.” She was panting with the effort.
Key tried to think, then he remembered Carla healing Eli. “Blood, Roxy. Use our blood. I’ve seen the other witches do it.” Key reached back and got his knife out. He took her free hand and sliced the palm. Then he cut his, and laid it on hers. “Feel it?”
Hope brightened her witch-shimmer. “Yes, it’s like lightning whipping through me.” She switched hands, laying the one with their combined blood on Shayla’s inner thigh.
The woman arched and moaned. Key put his hand over Roxy’s, taking the pain from both of them.
Anxiety tightened his spine. “Is she strong enough yet? We need to get out of here.”
“Let me just heal the other cuts and then—”
“Who is that?” the woman on the bed said.
Key looked at her face. He could smell the sudden suspicion. She looked different from his Roxy; longer, leaner, with a hot anger just beneath her skin.
“It’s Kieran,” Roxy said, moving her hands to the cuts on Shayla’s arm, then one on her thigh.
Her gaze clouded. “You’ve Awakened.”
Key got off the bed and went to the door. “Linc. Let’s roll.”
The other hunter was scanning the lot. “Viper’s going to be a tight fit for the four of us.”
Key felt the man’s increasing tension. Worry tightened his neck muscles. He could feel the threat weighing down the air but he couldn’t see it. “You take Shayla, Roxy will fly with me.”
Linc strode into the room, straight to the bed, and said, “Hey there, Shayla. I’m Linc, and we’re going to go for a ride.”
Key followed, seeing Roxy healing a cut on the woman’s side. Pain holes were forming in Roxy’s shimmer. Hurrying back, he put his hand over hers.
Shayla shoved them all away and sat up. “I’m not going anywhere with a witch hunter.” She turned to her cousin. “They broke into my house and dragged me out.” Fury poured off her.
Roxy put her hand on her cousin’s arm. “Shayla, we have to get you to safety.”
“I don’t trust them. I can’t trust anyone now.” She turned to Linc. “I’m not going with you.”
Linc sighed and looked at Key.
He nodded, leaned over, and lifted Roxy out of the way.
Linc moved in a flash, shifting Shayla onto the comforter, wrapping her in it to trap her arms and legs, then scooping her up.
“You bastard! Scum-sucking troll! Donkey-screwing asshole!” Her voice faded as Linc got her into his car.
Key turned Roxy to face him, seeing her tear-stained face and pain-filled eyes. Her parents had been murdered, and she was terrified of losing the only family she had left. “Linc won’t hurt her, but we have to get out of here.”
She nodded.
He grabbed her waist and lifted her. “Put your legs around me,” he said as he heard Linc’s Viper roar off.
Then, another car squealed into the parking lot.
No time! Key turned and ran, blowing through the door and snapping out his wings. He took in a large, dark SUV and two motel room doors opening at the same time.
Guns! Two men ran out of the rooms with guns. Fuck! He concentrated to go invisible when he felt a prick in his thigh. Then his neck. Run! Fly! His wings weren’t pumping right. Too slow … clumsy. Pain didn’t stop him so why wasn’t he flying yet? His strides were uncoordinated. Felt like Roxy was slipping from his hold—
“Kieran! You have a dart in your neck!”
Dart? He became aware of the icy-hot pain slithering through his veins. “Poison …” His mouth felt thick. Don’t drop Roxy! He fought the drug, struggled to run, to get her to safety. Sweat slicked down his back. It was like running under water, he couldn’t get any speed.
He saw Roxy put her hand on his neck where the dart must be. Tried to scream, No! Don’t touch it! Couldn’t get the words out. Needed to warn her not to get the drug on her. Had to get her to safety! He was halfway across the parking lot. Get to the street, get someone to help Roxy. Run. Walk. Move!
It took all his will to force his left leg up. He had to fight to keep his grip on her. Then a man slammed into him, throwing both of them to the ground. Key landed on his side, felt the impact jar him, felt the pain, but his muscles wouldn’t move. Not his legs, not his arms, not his fingers. Drawing in a breath was a strain.
Roxy screamed.
Couldn’t turn his head, but he felt her pain. Hot slices of agony as they cut her. Roxy! He couldn’t move! Couldn’t get to her. It was like being trapped in a nightmare.
Two rogues picked him up, dragged him into the motel room, and threw him down. His head bounced off the floor and he stayed where he landed. Where was Roxy?
I’m here.
He clung to her presence in his mind. He’d find a way to get her help. Then black boots and pants entered his vision. The toe of a boot caught his shoulder and kicked him over onto his back. His wings were gone, at some point they’d folded up and disappeared into the tattoo. His head and eyes wouldn’t move, and he was forced to stare straight up.
Liam stood there.
Old hatred spewed up inside him. Key was helpless once more, as helpless as he’d been all those years ago. Impotent fury burned and seethed, and there wasn’t a goddamned thing he could do about it. He heard Roxy breathing, felt her fear and pain. His entire being fought the drug to get to her. He struggled to move, but the most he could do was blink once, and that effort made spots dance in front of his eyes. Key stilled his futile attempts to fight the drug and, while he stared at Liam, took stock of who was in the room. He heard only one other male moving around. The others must be outside.
The other Wing Slayer Hunters knew where he was, they would come. Just hold on, keep Roxy alive.
His brother’s cold blue eyes gleamed with triumph. “Did you get a chance to meet my mortal sharpshooters? Those darts are coated in enough Tubocurarine to bring down an elephant. Or a dragon.” He laughed at his own joke. “If you were a regular man, you’d die. Soon. But witch h
unters have advanced biology, so you should keep breathing even though the rest of your system is paralyzed. Until I kill you anyway. But first …” He turned away, “Bring her over here.”
Roxy was shoved, landing on Key’s chest, her hand on the dragon tat. The scent of her pain ripped through his veins, fueling his internal rage, but he still couldn’t move.
“Kieran, what did they do to you?” He felt her magic rise, flowing through her hand on his chest. The dragon twitched.
Then Liam caught a handful of her hair and jerked her off him. He locked an arm around her waist, grabbed the front of her dress, ripping down and exposing the swell of her breasts in her black bra. The Tear pulsed frantically with her heart.
The sound and sight tore through Key’s mind. He strained against his frozen muscles, felt the dragon struggling too. He realized he could move his fingers, shift his eyes. Was the drug wearing off?
Roxy fought, trying to break free. Kicking, using her elbows, struggling to get to him.
No! Stop it, Roxy! He screamed at her in his mind, terror for her bleeding through his brain. Stall him!
She shook her head, fighting harder.
Liam stabbed his knife into her thigh, and her entire body bucked so hard, she kicked Key in the ribs. Then her blood poured down her leg and onto his stomach. She was panting, wheezing with the agony. It filled his head, the searing burn that was hurting his witch, his sweet Roxy. Her blood pooled on his stomach, rolled down his side. I’m so sorry, he cried to her.
Blood, trying to keep chakras open.
He felt her magic then, felt it seeping into him … holy shit! She was bleeding on him intentionally. She’d thrown herself on him intentionally. Hoping that the soul-mirror blood was the antidote to the drug, like it was for the Immortal Death Dagger. Key felt his muscles begin to burn as her magic chased out the drug. He could move his hands, arms, and legs more and more, but he wasn’t fully online yet. It took every ounce of will he had to remain still. He could do nothing until he had full control of his muscles.
Then Liam lifted his knife, pressing the tip to the swell of her breast. “This will only hurt enough to kill you.” He shoved the knife in.
Sinful Magic: A Wing Slayer Novel Page 31