Of Light And Fire (Burned By Magic Series Book 1)

by Gina Shafer

  She has to know this. I’m overwhelmed with the need to explain myself.

  I sit up and grab her chin so she is unable to move her gaze from my face. Her eyes are wide and surprised, and I won’t deny that there is a familiar ache deep inside. It’s an odd position for us to be in, and for a second I wonder what led me to grab her so intimately, but as we stare into each other’s eyes I feel something wash over me, something coming from deep inside me that calms me to my core. She feels it too, I know it because she lets her eyelids flutter closed briefly and inhales a deep breath. She’s just as affected by this as I am. There’s no way to be sure if I’m saying this for her or for myself, I just know it needs to be said. Maybe we both need the clarification.

  “I would never betray the Sicarri, Karina. This is my life; it’s everything I know… I am not a demon,” I say through clenched teeth.

  “They took everything from me too.” Her bottom lip trembles, her chin still caught in my grasp, but her eyes are downcast. I reach up and lightly brush my thumb against her bottom lip before she swipes her tongue across, licking the spot where my finger just touched. That tiny movement of hers drives me crazy and I long to put my mouth where her tongue just was.

  What?

  I want to kiss her.

  But… more than that.

  I want to consume her.

  Where the hell are these feelings coming from? I shouldn’t be feeling like this…

  When her eyes finally return to mine, I remember what she said.

  “How?” I ask. Karina finally pulls her chin from my grasp and pushes me back down onto the bed. I am almost grateful for the break in connection. I haven’t ever been this close to another woman who wasn’t Vara, but I recognize the emptiness I feel without Karina’s eyes locked with mine. She pulls out a set of gauze and tape and begins to wrap my wound. Now that it’s all cleaned up and slathered in ointment, it looks much redder and angrier, and I know it will hurt even worse in a few hours.

  “I don’t really like to talk about it. I’m not from around here, but because of them I had to grow up alone. I’m here because Marcel was the one who found me when I was alone. He offered me a home, and the demons had taken the only family I had.” She sniffles once and I realize how difficult this is for her. My wound forgotten again, I reach up to grasp her fingers.

  “I hate the demons for what they’ve done,” she says as she lets go of my hand and wipes her fingers quickly across her cheek, but not before I catch a glimpse of one shiny tear. My hate for the demons is made new by her anguish. They’ve ripped apart families for years, and not just mine.

  “They will pay, Karina, if we have to tear every door or burn every building, they will pay for what they did to your family…” I pause for a moment. “…And mine,” I vow.

  “I don’t think you’re a demon,” Karina admits. I let out a small sigh as I take in her words.

  “Good, because I’m not,” I say with a small smile, glad that my point got across. I’m not sure why it’s so important to me that she isn’t afraid of me… that she doesn’t think of me as a demon.

  Her eyes lock with mine, and I can see that she realizes the tough position I’m in, having learned that the love of my life was a demon traitor. And this awkward attraction isn’t helping things. I’m unsure how to act around her, whether what I’m feeling is real. I search deep for the love I once had for Vara, but I come up empty.

  Was it really love with Vara, or was it all just a lie? I think, for me, it was real. But, as soon as I learned she was a demon the moment I discovered that she told me the biggest lie she could ever tell… every ounce of that love was lost. Did she love me, I mean truly love me? I don’t really know, and I’m not sure I will ever get the chance to learn the truth. Vara is gone, and I don’t think she’s ever coming back.

  Karina lifts one corner of her mouth and nods before tapping my shoulder twice with her two fingers.

  “You’re all set.” She glides across the room as I stand. A groan escapes me as my shoulder bends with the movement.

  “What were you trying to do back there, anyway?” Karina asks, genuine interest in her voice and a deep frown around her lips..

  “I thought I saw something… someone.” My voice comes out low, ashamed. Once more I am struck with the sheer stupidity of what I did. I could have been killed, and Soren would be left alone. Again.

  “It was her, wasn’t it?” she asks, but I don’t answer. I can’t answer. I straighten my leaning body off the mattress and stride toward the door.

  “Elijah, wait,” Karina calls after me and I stop, planting my feet solidly on the floor as she walks around to stand in front of me. She rattles a bottle of pills in her hand and shoves them into my chest. My fingers dangle below hers for a few seconds before she drops the bottle into my hand. “For the pain... Get some sleep,” she adds as she disappears behind me, leaving the way to the door empty for me to cross.

  I make my way back to my room in a daze. After I throw back two of the pills that Karina gave me, I plop down onto my bed without even taking my shoes off.

  Sleep takes me in seconds.

  It’s so dark.

  I open my eyes wide to see through the blackness and recognize a building, maybe a house? No. It’s a church, the church where I almost burned alive. Where Cormac saved me. Before Cormac was Lincoln, before Soren was grown, before Vara was… Before I knew Vara was a demon.

  The church bursts into flames in the next second, cracking and popping as the flames eat at the old wood. I feel the heat through my clothes and moisture starts to break out onto my skin. The flames are so close, but this time I’m not alone. I sense movement inside the building and step closer. I see someone standing in the middle of the flames, skin engulfed. Screams are leaving the figure’s distorted mouth, so loud they become almost inhuman. There is nothing I can do to help. My feet are stuck, unable to move forward, unable to pull the person from the flames.

  The screams begin to morph into something more, something evil. Laughing. I hear cackling, and realize it’s coming from the burning figure inside the church. The body is changing from blistered and scorched to something else… something pale. Smooth skin and flowing red hair. She looks back at me and I instantly recognize her. It’s Vara… only not. Something about her is different, but I can’t put my finger on it.

  She is standing inside the burning church. The flames are no longer touching her. She calls out for me to join her and I feel my body weaken at the sound of her voice. She sounds so much like herself, like my wife, the one I trusted with everything I had. Only now, the feelings of trust are replaced with doubt. I furrow my brow, squinting through my uncertainty. When she reaches her hand out to mine, I’m caught in her spell. I look deep in her eyes, and become lost to myself.

  “Vara,” I whisper as I reach out to her, and suddenly she’s standing in front of me. Her green eyes shine in the moonlight and I feel a trickle of fear roll down my spine. Something isn’t right. But still, I stay within her reach. She places a hand on my shoulder. At first, her touch is gentle, loving almost, and the look on her face reminds me of the many times I’ve told her I loved her. But then it changes. She looks angry and her eyes darken, replaced by steel. This is not my wife… Vara was a demon. Her grip tightens on me, squeezing. It feels like she is branding her handprint into my shoulder as she laughs through my pain.

  I hear a faint scratching come from behind me, and Vara’s eyes dart toward the sound. One minute she’s there and the next…

  She’s gone.

  My body jolts awake. I’m covered in sweat, and searing pain radiates from the burn on my shoulder.

  Knock. Knock. Knock.

  I try to gather my wits and sit up, wiping my hands down my face. There must be someone at the door. I was dreaming and someone came to the door to wake me. I hear the same faint scratch from my dream as I rise to meet whoever is on the other side.

  Soren.

  “Hey, Dad. You got a minute?” he ask
s as Willow charges right in and makes herself comfortable on my bed. The scratching must have come from her, and I thank the dog internally for waking me from that damn nightmare.

  “Sure,” I say as I guide him to the small wooden table on the other side of the room.

  “Sit down,” I offer, pulling out a chair for him to sit. I don’t know what he wants to talk about, but I do know that I want to be the kind of father who sits and listens when my son has something to say. So, that is what I do. I sit down and wait for him to speak.

  “I’m sorry to barge in here, I know you must be in pain.” I had forgotten all about my shoulder since I opened the door to Soren until he said something about it.

  “Soren, it’s fine. I was sleeping when you knocked on the door, and that seems to have helped a little.” I roll my shoulder in a small circle and feel the stinging pain, but it’s definitely not as bad as before. I’m sure I have Karina’s pills to thank for that too.

  “Tell me what you wanted to talk about,” I say gently.

  “It’s about Mom.” He sighs, and I hold back a grimace. “Do you ever remember anything? You know, like little bits and pieces that seemed off? Like maybe you knew she was hiding something?”

  The truth is, I haven’t. I can’t remember one single moment where I didn’t trust Vara with every fiber of my being. Maybe there were times when I thought she was acting a bit off, though I would have never put the puzzle pieces together. My mind was so clouded. My heart so full of love for Vara. I would have never suspected unless someone put the doubt there for me. In my mind, I bestowed the trust in Vara that a husband always should. But I don’t think Soren is asking purely out of curiosity.

  “Why are you asking me this, son?” I try to keep my tone even, but I am eager for his answer. Soren’s mind interests me, and I find myself wishing I could take a peek inside. I have a feeling that he holds a lot in and I wonder if he’s angry with me for leaving him. I would be.

  “I remembered something, Dad. When I saw the shadow-walkers upstairs in that house you blew up. I remembered when I was little. I saw…” He stops and places his palms over his eyes, trying to rub away the memory.

  “Soren…” I say softly. “It’s all right, just tell me what you saw.” Soren starts to sob, and I am lost. I don’t know how to do this part. He was so little when I left, so easily distracted from his sadness. I could make a silly face and the tears would stop flowing. Now, I’m watching a grown man break because of something his mother did. My wife. My son had to live without both of his parents all his life because of her. She had us all fooled. Why didn’t I just open my eyes and see what was staring me straight in the face?

  “Look at me, Soren,” I command. I want him to know how serious I am, how much this means to me.

  “None of this, not one bit of this is your fault, do you understand me? Your mother was a liar, she lied to all of us, and you’re not the only one who fell for it. We all did. I don’t want you feeling guilty for this, Soren. Maybe at some point we will figure out why she did it, but I never want you to think you weren’t loved. I was real, I am real, I never lied to you, and I’m never leaving you again.” Soren lifts his face from his palms as I speak and gains control of himself. My words seem to work in calming him, in convincing him not to blame himself. He’s a lot like me in that way… I’m quick to place the blame on my shoulders when things go wrong. It’s strange to see that flaw reflected in my son.

  “It was so hard, Dad. I was so young, and all alone. Uncle Marcel did what he could; he fed me, trained me, and sheltered me. But he was gone a lot, and I was alone. I was only ten and both my parents were lost, possibly dead. We had no idea where the demons had taken you, no way to get to you. No one knew me like you did, understood me like you did. I didn’t know how to deal with my emotions, so I locked them away and threw myself into training. I would imagine all the ways I would kill the demons that took you. Imagine that I would set out and find Mom… bring her home when I was old enough. I can’t believe she lied to us, Dad.”

  I take a deep breath and a strangled noise leaves my throat.

  “When Lincoln told us that Mom was a demon, I knew. I remembered what I saw, and everything made sense. I was about seven years old, standing in our backyard playing with sticks and digging for worms, when I saw Mom standing in the window of the upstairs bedroom. She had the phone up to her ear and was looking out into the distance. I don’t think she even saw me looking at her. I was supposed to stay close to the back door while I was playing outside by myself, but I went far, out near the lemon tree in the corner. I saw her eyes blink and I saw the silver shine from behind them. Her eyes were steel and grey for one whole minute before she blinked again and they were back to normal. I knew what I saw, but I never said anything. From what I was taught at the time, demons were shadow-walkers. I never knew they could change form, take another person’s body. I locked that memory away, too afraid of what it could mean, and I never thought of it again until Lincoln.” Soren’s eyes bore into the table where his hands are crossed in front of him.

  I don’t know what to say. In my mind, I still saw my Vara, the one I spent my life with. There was a small part of me that didn’t want to believe Lincoln… that hoped he was lying. But Soren’s take on things makes me see it all in a completely different light. There was a demon caring for my son in my absence. I feel an ache in my chest when the thought crosses my mind.

  “I’m sorry you were alone, Soren. I’m sorry I left you alone with her. I had no idea,” I say. Like that makes it better. I have nothing else for him.

  “It’s not your fault, Dad. You couldn’t have known.” Now the tables have turned and Soren is the one comforting me. I lay my head back on the chair behind me and take a deep, calming breath. There is too much of our past filling the room like a thick fog. It’s becoming harder for me to think properly. But this isn’t about me. Soren is the one who’s suffered the most in all of this.

  “No, I couldn’t have known. But I shouldn’t have left you. I should have done whatever I could to stay home with you. To make sure I would be there for you. I want you to know how proud I am of you, Soren. You are everything I would have raised you to become. And I want you to know that whatever your mom did has nothing to do with us. We are fine. I am still your dad and you are still my son, demon blood or not.” When I lock eyes with my son, my twenty-five-year-old son, I see the truth in my statement. He is strong, and loyal, tough, and gentle. He is so many things. My Soren. Whatever happens, he will always be my Soren.

  “I’m proud of you too, Dad,” he says.

  I open my mouth to speak, to thank my son, when I hear another knock on the door. Soren surprises me by jumping up to answer the door before I get the chance to. It dawns on me that he must be uncomfortable in situations like this, not unlike myself…again.

  “Sorry to interrupt,” Marcel says after Soren swings the door open. “You guys should come out here… Shit has kind of hit the fan.” Marcel’s eyes are somber, his lips down-turned with worry. Soren looks back at me, and I shrug my shoulders, feeling the ache once again in the burn there.

  I walk across the room, grab the bottle of pills Karina gave me, and pop a couple into my mouth, swallowing them dry as we all march toward whatever shit Marcel was talking about. I hear Willow’s claws clacking against the shiny cement floor as we walk, and I’m oddly comforted by the sound.

  What’s next? My life has been torn to shreds in the span of a few days. How could it get any worse than this?

  I was wrong. Things could get worse. Things did get worse. The gigantic man staring down at me, poking his finger into my chest is proof positive.

  “You and your kid need to get the fuck out of here.” The man, whose name I’ve just learned is Kit, spits the words into my face as he pokes a long finger into my chest. Anger is the first word that comes to mind when I look at Kit’s face, but when I look deeper, it’s not anger that I see. It’s fear.

  “Did you hear what I just s
aid, Elijah? You can take the dog too. But you two need to go, now.” He drops his finger and takes a few steps back. When I glance behind me, I immediately know why. Willow’s teeth are bared, her eyes angry and dark. I don’t blame the guy; I’ve seen her rip a demon’s face off in seconds. I would be backing up farther if I were him. But I have to say it does feel good to have her on my team. My eyes scan the view behind me, and I notice that Soren is at my back, along with Ted. Xo has also joined our ranks. And Marcel stands in front of me while still entwined with the circle of Sicarri surrounding us.

  I am shocked into silence when Kit damn near growls at me again. I have nothing to say to the angry mob of Sicarri men standing in a round before us, telling us to get out. The Sicarri I knew would never do this, and once again I’m reminded how much things have changed. Fear has warped their minds. I wonder what else fear has done in my absence.

  “Why should they have to go when you’re the one who has a problem with it, Kit? You leave.” Karina pushes through the group surrounding us to stand by my side. I would say I’m surprised to see such an act of loyalty come from her, but when I look at her face, I see the same vulnerability in her that I saw earlier. Her eyes meet mine for a second, and I picture her like she was when we were alone in the room.

  She’s the first to look away.

  “Stay out of this, Karina,” Kit snarls in her direction.

  “What happened to the Sicarri being a family? Everyone in this room has put their lives on the line for our fellow Sicarri. Now you’re just going to kick us out like we haven’t been fighting arm in arm for all these years?” Soren is seething with anger, and I don’t blame him. I would be angry as hell if the Sicarri I knew treated me this way, but the truth is most of the old Sicarri is dead.

  “Sicarri kill demons and anything associated with them. You two just got put on that list the minute Marcel accidentally let it slip that you’ve got demon blood running through your veins.” The next man in the group speaks up, but I can’t remember his name. He’s tall and thin, with blond hair peeking out from under a black ball cap.