Born in Fire (Fire and Ice Trilogy Book 1)

by K. F. Breene

  “I will not join you!” she screeched, her hands digging into a faded blue canvas bag.

  “I’m the good guy.” I took a step back, recognizing her look of obstinacy teamed with terror as she tried to find something to throw at me. “You dodged a zombie-sized bullet, by the way.”

  Confusion stole over her face as I turned away. She wasn’t the enemy.

  “I thought this was a retreat!” she yelled. “They were going to teach me about magic.”

  “They were going to teach you?” I laughed, my blood pumping as I squelched the fire and stalked toward the other door. “They aren’t even in your league, sweet cheeks. Stay alive and I’ll introduce you to someone who isn’t a moron. I gotta go now, though. I have to save a vampire from eternal death.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  I kept the gun in my hand and pulled out a Weather Beater, a spell that would allow me to make a grand entrance. Pausing at the right-hand door this time, I caught the girl peeping out of the closet, watching me.

  “Do you know what’s through here?” I asked her.

  “A big room. In the middle there’s a giant, like, pit thing. Like a long pit from one side to the other.”

  “How many people?”

  “There were only a couple when I was in there. Then I came in here with— What happened to the coven?”

  “They came down with a case of the stupids.” I rolled my neck. “Here goes nothin’.”

  I kicked the door as hard as I could. Wood cracked. The hinges broke. The doorjamb broke away.

  Kicking doors was one of my favorite things. I was good at it.

  Another kick and it came free, tumbling toward the room beyond.

  I peeked in to get the lay of the land.

  The room was massive, and just as the girl had described it, there was a gap in the middle, running left to right. Ten feet across, so I knew I wouldn’t be able to jump it. On my side, a handful of men shifted from side to side, startled into turning my way. They’d be throwing spells in a moment. I didn’t have much time.

  On the other side, in the left-hand corner, a group of idiots gathered around another bubbling cauldron, probably about to turn themselves into something they couldn’t come back from. A circle had been drawn not far from them, with a human crumpled beside it, clearly dead. The right-hand corner held the object of the dick pic, Mr. Dick himself. Darius was still tied to a stake with a pile of store-bought fire logs piled around his feet.

  Chuckles bubbled up inside me at the absurdity.

  His gaze was pointed my way, but he was completely relaxed, probably pissed off and wanting me to free him so he could go crazy.

  Anticipation heated the fire raging within me. I really wanted to see what damage a vampire like him could do. I suspected it would be awesome.

  High up in the middle of the far wall was a circular stained-glass window showering blue light onto a podium. Being that it was night, and the stained glass was not blue, I surmised that the window was magical in an annoying, showy way. A thin figure stood at the podium, straight and tall, with a devil’s mask on.

  “Have you come peacefully?” he asked in a slightly muffled and machine-enhanced voice. He was trying to disguise his identity.

  “Are you hoping I’ll make fun of you?” I asked. “Because if you keep asking questions like that, it’ll be hard not to.” I noticed the mages spreading out in front of the gap, most with one or more casings in hand, but some holding items. A couple of those mages looked experienced. That was a bad sign.

  The building rumbled, and the Dizzy/Callie team keeping the others busy, taking a really long time to just kill them already.

  “You are the uncrowned queen,” the mage said, raising his hands. “Bringing you in would grant me a hefty boon.”

  “Are you getting that from the demon? Because that’s just silly. They lie, you know.”

  He shook, slamming his hands down on the podium. His body went rigid and then he hunched, putting great effort into something. Either the demon was trying to break free, or he was trying to assert his will and smite me somehow. Regardless, it was go time.

  I threw the Weather Beater. It hit the ground with a tiny plunk. The rush of a tornado rose out of it, whipping around and catching a mage. It threw him with force, smashing him against the wall. Lightning rained down, hitting another mage. He convulsed, fried by electricity.

  A spell sped toward me a moment later, so pale I could barely see it. I could feel it, though, raising my small hairs.

  I stashed my gun and ripped out my sword before slashing through the hex, unraveling it. My sword pulled more power, wanting to stay filled. I let it do its thing while running at the nearest mage. I hacked down, chopping his hand, making him drop his spell. Then I ran him through with my blade and turned for the next, kicking out. My foot clipped his jaw, throwing his head to the side. His body followed.

  I grabbed out a spell, pinched, and threw. It burned my fingers before I could get it airborne. It ballooned into a ball of light and fell on a mage. He wriggled and screamed, falling to the ground.

  That was probably one of John’s spells.

  “Take her alive,” the powerful mage yelled.

  Yeah, right. Like they had the experience to capture someone of my caliber.

  I sliced through the next spell, a weak thing badly realized. Lightning struck beside me. I jumped away, much too close to the Weather Beater. It struck someone else. The last two mages standing on my side of the gap raised their hands, focusing.

  “Who has two thumbs and brought a gun to a magic fight? This girl!” I stowed my sword before grabbing my gun. I pointed and shot, taking down the nearest mage. Unlike the zombies, he stayed down, clutching his shoulder. I got the other one in the leg, deciding to leave them for Darius. It was good for my karma. Probably.

  As the Weather Beater lost its potency, I stalked to the front of the gap, trying to decide how I wanted to handle this. No one had seen my true magic yet other than that girl, and she was shell-shocked. She wouldn’t remember correctly. I was still in the clear so far.

  Weighing my options, I yelled over at the mage, standing behind his podium on a slightly raised platform. “There won’t be a happy ending for you.”

  The women in the corner started to chant. I rolled my eyes and swung my gun that way, opening fire. They jerked and screeched, most of them falling down. I was a great shot.

  Click, click, click.

  I also needed to reload.

  “This is your last offer. Join me.” The mage raised his hands over his head.

  “No, thank you. You’re too high maintenance.”

  The women in the corner changed, hunching. Their words slurred. Hair sprang up all over their bodies as their skin began to rip, tearing down their arms and legs. Fangs grew out of their mouths, and their fingers turned into claw-tipped paws. Snarls replaced their groans of pain.

  Magically changed werewolves. What idiots.

  Unlike the natural shape-shifter werewolves, which had internal magic passed down through bloodlines, the magically changed variety could infect humans with a bite. The full moon ruled them after their first change. They were the beasts feared in fairytales—hunted mercilessly by the shape shifters, and for good reason.

  “Roger is not going to like you very much,” I said, wondering how far they could jump. “But at least it’ll keep him from hounding me. Get it, hounding?”

  One of the beasts shuddered, opening its mouth. Saliva dripped from dauntingly large fangs.

  “Free me,” Darius yelled, watching the last of the werewolves change. It seemed only his head was free to move. “Free me to deal with them.”

  The mage howled in laughter. “And how might she do that?” His hands swung down and in, splayed fingers pointing at me.

  A roar of fire burst from between his hands. It shot at me like it would from a massive flamethrower. Feeling the demon within that burst of magic, I stared through the fire as it washed over me, delicious he
at tingling my skin.

  “So you’re letting that demon take control in order to do hellfire, hmm?” I asked. “That is a dangerous game.”

  “What?” he said in a low voice. Then louder: “No!”

  I glanced at Darius—nothing more than a flick of my eyes—before firming up my resolution. There was only one way to take down that mage. Only one way to strip that mage of the demon, and then kill the demon so it couldn’t head back to the underworld and reveal what I was.

  Darius would witness it all, but I had no choice. For now, I had to trust him in order to get out of here alive. I needed him on my side.

  “Oh right, about that queen thing—demons don’t always lie. Just most of the time.” I put my gun away and ran my palm through the air. Fire rose from the stone floor in front of me, answering my call. I spread it out around me, covering the ground and licking at the walls. The demon’s presence pulsed, a heavy feeling in the air.

  “No!” the mage hollered. Clutching the podium with one hand, he threw a spell with the other, shaking madly. The demon was rebelling, hearing the call of a stronger master.

  I flicked my fingers. Fire burst in front of the coming spell, enveloping it. Disintegrating it.

  Sweet heat raged through my body. I’d never used my power on such a large scale before. It felt so natural. I was meant for this.

  Smiling, I spread fire across the walls, growing the flame in size and intensity. It fanned toward Darius, a rescue mission.

  “How are you doing this?” the mage screamed. “This is not possible.”

  “If you think that’s cool, get a load of this.” I snatched a knife from my ankle, then used it to cut one of my fingers. Blood welled up as I said the incantation to infuse it with fire. When the drop was ready, I threw it into the pit in the middle of the room. “Here, little demon…”

  Flame rose from the pit as I lifted my arms.

  The werewolves backed away as the first sign of deep orange, almost red, fire licked the air. No smoke; it burned hot and smelled sweet, my calling card.

  The mage screamed and writhed, now clutching the podium with two hands. Then he wrestled one of his hands free and dug it into his pocket. He surfaced with a vial, which he snapped open with his thumb and upended into his mouth.

  I salivated as I watched it, knowing it was unicorn blood and remembering the taste. Remembering the rush of power and glory that came with it. The call to get to it was strong.

  I gritted my teeth and flexed my arms. Power was sucked from my body. Heat intensified. The pit crawled with flame. Fire rose up all around me.

  I levitated into the air.

  “Leave his body,” I commanded, infusing my words with power.

  Flame ate away the magic that contained Darius. The werewolves were stalking along the side of the gap, looking across at me. I wanted that mage, but I didn’t want to deal with his watchdogs. I probably wouldn’t turn into a werewolf if I got bitten, but I wasn’t positive. I didn’t want to test that theory and be wrong.

  “Obey me!” the mage said through clenched teeth. He shoved the podium out of the way. It fell to its side and rolled off the raised platform before tipping into the gap, lost to the flame.

  “Leave his body,” I commanded again, latching on to the power of the demon and summoning it. My blood-fire sang my song, beckoning. The mage had a helluva hold to keep it from answering for so long. “Leave his body.”

  Fire raced across the ceiling. I stood in a forest of flames. The gap roared, advertising my power but also spreading the aroma of my blood. Darius shook his head before his gaze locked with mine, full of hunger and need and desperation. I couldn’t see his eyes at this distance, but I could read every line of his body.

  “Focus!” I yelled at him. All I needed was another enemy to add to the demon, mage, and stalking werewolves.

  His arms left his sides. The rope ripped away like paper. The spell over his legs, still thankfully holding him in place, was coated in flame.

  “Focus!” I yelled again. “Don’t be a dick, Darius. I need your help.”

  He plucked more rope away as the fire worked its way down.

  This was not going well.

  One thing at a time.

  Turning back to the mage, I shouted, “Leave your host!” while infusing my summoning with more power.

  The mage screamed, curling in on himself, squeezing his hands into fists. The building shook. Dust drifted down from the sky. The blue light from the window died. My blood-fire climbed higher without waiting for me to ask.

  I saw the stone floor within that pit, rising to its former height. The mage was closing the gap.

  “That’s a neat trick,” I said, backing up. “Bad timing, though.” The vampire’s gaze was still on me, and I also had the undivided attention of the stalking werewolves, their eyes glowing sporadically through the row of flame.

  A new sort of force rose inside me, coming from my depths and merging with my magic, pumping it higher. Adrenaline sped up my heart, my movements. The thrum of power pushed through my limbs, begging me to use it.

  The new presence made itself known. I am here, master, it said in my head.

  “Oops. That’s not what I meant to do.” I tore away the blood-fire, lessening the summoning. With dexterity that could only be passed down through bloodlines, I pushed the demon from my body and forced it to stand beside me in its original form, a hunched, horned kind of thing with stringy arms and leathery legs.

  Darius kicked off the last of the rope and stepped forward, freed. His eyes blackened and his fangs grew, his primal side taking over.

  “Not a good time for hunger, Darius,” I said, hearing a chorus of growls. In cutting out that fire, I’d also opened myself up for a werewolf attack. “I’m having a bad day.”

  I blasted a stream of hellfire, Spider-Man-style, pulling the necessary power from my ugly brooch. The corroding flame burned through the air and hit the nearest werewolf. It yelped and stumbled, succumbing to the direct shot even though the magical fire coating the ground hadn’t singed it.

  Good to know.

  Darius rushed me, his pants catching fire almost immediately. I snatched out my gun and shot, belatedly realizing I hadn’t reloaded.

  Click.

  “Shit!” I stuffed it back in the holster and grabbed out my sword. I’d have to reload later.

  With the other hand I grabbed a spell, all while pressing my control of the demon so it didn’t wriggle away. I wouldn’t be able to keep this up for long. Something would have to give.

  I threw the spell. Darius batted it away like it was nothing. It exploded off to the side, detonating too late. I braced until he got close, nothing more than a blur, he moved so fast, and struck. My blade barely met flesh before he dodged smoothly. I avoided a hand coming at me and launched, aiming for his middle. He turned to the side, my blade just missing, and kept coming.

  “You are really fast.” I slashed down, getting part of his arm and not doing much damage.

  His body hit me like a pile of bricks. He lifted me up and rushed me backward.

  Snarls sounded right behind him. The demon was struggling against my bond.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  I punched him just under his armpit and heard him grunt.

  “I have very little control right now, Reagan,” he said in a rough voice. “It would be nice if you allowed me to protect you. Save the fighting for when we have a bed nearby.” I stopped struggling as he put me down near the wall. “I apologize in advance for my appearance.”

  Before I could ask what he meant, his monster form bubbled out, a kind of pasty-white thing with long, fierce claws and black, stringy hair. Very gross indeed. At least he recognized it.

  “Fire,” he muttered around his fangs. A claw pointed at the flame curling and flickering across the ground.

  I peeled it away from his feet as the demon struggled against my control again.

  A werewolf lunged for Darius. He rushed forward to meet it,
slashing with his claws. Another ran at him from the side, jumping and wrapping its front legs around his torso. He flung the second against the wall as he slashed the first, opening a nasty, deep gash across its chest.

  The thrown werewolf ricocheted off the wall and fell to the ground, baying in pain but not dead. I blasted it with hellfire, silencing it.

  Another werewolf went flying, but the angle was such that if I used hellfire I might get Darius accidentally. I reloaded my gun while Darius stuck his claws into the belly of yet another beast. I stepped around him and shot repeatedly, hitting the other werewolf with three slugs.

  “Need sh-ilver,” Darius slurred through his fangs.

  I’d forgotten that. Dang.

  “Wait, you’re not using silver.”

  “Magical. Clawsh.”

  Ah. I didn’t have those.

  Back to my sword, I chopped at the hindquarters of a werewolf swiping at Darius. The blade sliced through and the beast bayed, falling to the ground.

  The sword was a go.

  I stepped forward and finished it off while Darius took the brunt of the next attack. He slashed and stabbed handily—strength, speed, and power working seamlessly together. The werewolf barely had time to yelp before succumbing to its fate.

  There was one left, and it was running at a full sprint toward the back.

  “Is there a door back there?” I asked, readying myself for another blast of hellfire.

  Darius took three lightning-fast steps in that direction before stopping and looking back at me from a ghastly face. He glanced at the demon next—and then slowly walked back toward me. His monster form melted back into his handsome man form, only he no longer had on any clothes.

  I got an eyeful.

  “Pants, man! Put on some pants!” I ripped my gaze away. The demon struggled against my control, getting a few steps toward the back door before I caught hold of him. My power was low, though, after all that hellfire.