Borrowed Magic: An Urban Fantasy Novel (Witch's Bite Series Book 1)

by Stephanie Foxe

  Two more men come through the doorway and I twist and fall onto my back, pulling the pistol from my waistband. There’s no time to aim. I point and shoot, hitting the one closest to me, but he doesn’t go down. He turns his gun on me, his teeth bared and his eyes wide. A wolf hits him from the side, jaws clamping down on the gun and ripping it from his grip.

  I jump to my feet to shoot the second man, but a vampire has latched onto him. I finally find the brew I was looking for and throw it at Georgia. The glass shatters over her back and the net begins to melt. She squirms her way out of it and climbs to her feet with an enraged howl.

  I leap over the side of the bar and run through the doorway the men had come out of. My gut and my newfound magic are leading me in this direction. We may not be able to win this fight. I have to try to get Patrick while I can.

  “Olivia wait!” Javier shouts from behind me. I can’t wait, every instinct I have is pressing me to keep going.

  The hallway is empty. All I can hear is the wet sound of tearing flesh coming from the bar behind me as my hearing slowly returns. There are only two doors, both closed. The tug in my belly leads me past the first door. I stand in front of the second, hesitating for just a moment before I grab the handle and yank the door open.

  Narrow, wooden stairs lead almost straight down. I leave the door open behind me and walk down carefully, both hands on my gun. There is more gunfire overhead, but it’s dead silent and dark down here.

  The stairs lead down into a tunnel that seems to have been dug right into the ground. It still smells like damp earth down here even though the walls are concrete. There is one dim light dangling from the roof of the tunnel. Patrick is close now, so very close.

  The tunnel curves ahead, and there is something is around that turn, I can feel it. I grab a brew with my left hand, my last one, then bring it back up to grip the gun. The ringing in my ears has mostly faded, but I know my hearing still isn’t fully back.

  I glance behind myself one last time, then peer around the curve in the tunnel. It opens immediately into a circular room that smells like blood and shit. A girl with a blonde pixie cut is dangling from shackles that attach to the ceiling in the center of the room, her hands are purple and swollen. Her head is hanging listlessly and her bruised eyes are shut. She looks like she’s still alive though.

  A dead vampire, that I assume must be Emily, is lying next to the wall behind her. Her face is, for lack of a better word, destroyed. It looks like someone beat it in with a two by four.

  I creep forward, one foot in front of the other, my hands shaking slightly as I grip the pistol. I step cautiously into the circular room and Laurel’s head shoots up. She sees me and her eyes go wide. She begins screaming and kicking and I lower the gun slightly, but she’s looking past me.

  The press of a gun to the back of my head is all the warning I get.

  “I tried to warn you, Olivia, I had hoped you would listen and let the vampires fight for themselves,” Martinez says, his breath tickling my ear. He slides his hand down my arm and rips the pistol from my hand. I manage to hold onto the brew and drop my hand to my side, my fist clenched tightly.

  I feel like my heart has fallen out of my chest. Martinez. I hadn’t seen that coming at all. If it had been Novak standing here holding a gun to my head, I almost wouldn’t have been surprised. Martinez had seemed so earnest.

  “Why are you doing this?” I ask, hoping to buy time.

  “I believe in the cause,” Martinez says. “Walk forward.”

  He pushes the gun more firmly into my skull and I comply. As I walk further into the room, I see Patrick in my peripheral vision. He is chained to the wall, his arms are stretched taut in each direction and wrapped in silver chains that are burning his skin. His cheeks are gaunt and his eyes are completely red. He’s gone feral from the hunger. Chevy is standing next to Patrick, a gun hanging loosely from his hand.

  My heart almost stops. Chevy? I had thought he liked me, he had always been so friendly. He was always asking how I was—No. He was always asking about the vampires. Almost every conversation came back to them. A snide comment here or there, asking how business was, seeing if I was having any trouble. He had been fishing for information. Is there no one in this town I can trust?

  “This will work just as well. A rabid vampire kills not only the mayor’s daughter but his conspirator as well,” Chevy says with a grin that is all teeth and spite.

  “So that’s what you’re going with Martinez, killing me too?”

  “No, Patrick will kill you, just like he killed those girls.”

  “You are so full of shit--”

  Martinez grabs me by the throat and pulls me flush against him, pressing the gun into my cheek so hard I can feel it grinding against my teeth. “If you had listened, you could have lived. I could have helped you, gotten you a job, maybe even recruited you. You’re barely a witch after all. If you stopped using magic, you could live a pure life and be redeemed. You chose this,” he says, forcing me to look toward Patrick, whose red eyes are following our every move. His fangs are fully extended and dripping with saliva.

  I smell ozone before I hear the crackle of magic.

  “Let her go,” Novak says as he walks into the room, his gun trained on Martinez. Electrical energy crawls around his free hand, sparking and jumping as he clenches it. Novak’s hair is almost standing on end.

  “Watch out!” I yell as Chevy raises his gun to shoot Novak.

  Novak turns and fires first. A ball of lightning flies towards both Chevy and Martinez. Martinez pushes us both forward out of the way of the magic, then lifts the gun that was pressed into my cheek to shoot Novak.

  I grab his arm and slam my elbow back into his jaw. Martinez stumbles back and I throw the brew into his face, dropping down to my knees and covering my head with my arms. The brew explodes in a burst of fire and he shrieks as his skin blisters. A wave of heat passes overhead that I can feel even through my jacket.

  More gunfire echoes through the room and I see Novak stumble forward, eyes wide in shock. A red circle is forming on the front of his shirt. He falls to his knees, revealing one of the terrorists behind him. I run for my gun, it’s barely ten feet away.

  I’m hit from behind and Martinez grabs my hair and jerks me back. I go with the yank, turning and smashing my fist into his jaw. His skin is slick and hot and my fist slides off to the side, taking skin with it, but I can tell it rocks him. I jerk my hair out of his grip and hit him again, forcing him to take a step back.

  There’s another shot and I feel a hot, sharp pain on my left arm.

  “Move again and I’ll shoot you in the head!” The man in black shouts from behind me.

  Martinez grabs his dropped pistol and shoves me towards Laurel. His eyes are wild with anger and pain. The entire left side of his face is beginning to blister, his eyebrows are gone and his left eye can’t seem to open all the way between the burns and the swelling from my elbow strike.

  “Grab him,” he says pointing at Novak, who’s staring at him in both disbelief and hatred.

  “You were my partner,” Novak says hoarsely as the man in black grabs him under his arms and begins dragging him towards the center of the room.

  “You were filth I had to tolerate,” Martinez hisses. “Tie them together.”

  The man in black grabs a thin chain from the side of the room and pushes Novak and I together, back to back. He binds us so tightly together I can hardly breathe.

  Laurel is sobbing behind us. I keep looking toward the doorway, hoping to see Georgia or Javier. Surely someone will come for me. Martinez steps up to Laurel and smashes the side of her face with the gun, she goes limp and quiet.

  Chevy is bleeding from a wound on his shoulder and his stomach, but he is still standing. Martinez walks over to the door from the tunnel and closes it. The door is solid steel and two heavy bars drop down, reinforcing. My heart sinks into my stomach.

  There is another door to the right of Patrick, but it looks
like it locks from the other side and is similarly reinforced. I have no idea where it leads. Martinez and the man in black walk toward Chevy.

  Novak’s head lolls to the side and I grab his wrist, sending my healing magic into him. His wounds are beyond my skill to heal, but maybe I can buy him some time. I can feel him regaining consciousness, but the bleeding isn’t slowing fast enough. They must have hit an artery.

  Chevy grabs a lever on the wall near Patrick and pulls. The chains fall off and Patrick lunges forward, running straight toward us, concerned only with the smell of blood.

  “Patrick, no!” I scream.

  Chevy pulls the second lever and a large, round cage falls from the ceiling and slams onto the ground, trapping all four of us inside.

  I twist so that Novak is behind me and kick at Patrick as he tries to jump over us and grab Laurel. He turns and hisses at me, no recognition in his face at all. His eyes flick to the wound on my arm and he strikes, his teeth tearing into the muscle. I bite down on the scream and try to yank my arms free, but all I manage to do is bruise myself.

  Patrick locks his jaw down tighter and sucks down deep pulls of blood. It burns and aches so much I can hardly stand it.

  “You see now, don’t you Olivia? They’re vicious, soulless, monsters,” Martinez says, crouching down by the cage to watch me die.

  “The only monster I see here is you,” I bite out. Novak is barely hanging onto consciousness, and I don’t want to die like this. I grab his limp hand and I begin to pull. The magic rushes into me and I take it greedily. This will speed up his death, but so will letting Patrick eat him.

  “Patrick, listen to me,” I say, my voice not as steady as I’d like. “I know you’re still in there, and I know you’re hungry, but--”

  Patrick releases my shoulder, and for a brief moment I think maybe he is listening to me, but he pulls Novak forward, shoving me onto my face, and buries his face in Novak’s stomach. I pull on Novak’s magic faster, I need more. I can feel Novak dying, he’s already lost too much blood. I have to take it all now before it’s too late.

  I have always pulled slowly before, but this time I reach an invisible fist inside of him and rip out every last bit of magic. Novak dies. I feel his soul leave like a whisper, the one thing I couldn’t take.

  Electricity crackles around me, my hair lifting around my head. The sharp, bitter smell of ozone overtakes my senses.

  Martinez is already running towards the door. “Shoot her!”

  The man in black lifts his gun towards me and I push the magic at him, uncontrolled. A jagged bolt of pure energy crackles through the air and hits him in the chest. He falls down face first, his body jerking and spasming.

  Chevy shoots wildly in our direction. I throw another bolt of lightning at him. It hits the gun more than him and he shouts in pain as the guns falls to the ground. I feel weak already, I’ve used too much magic, too fast. There’s no stopping now though.

  I grit my teeth and hurl another bolt of electricity at Chevy. As it hits him I realize that Martinez is running out of the other door.

  “No!” I shriek, but he pulls the door shut behind him. I hear the bars slam into place as I struggle uselessly against my bonds again.

  He’s gone and Novak is dead. Patrick is sucking at the wound on his stomach still, practically bathing in the blood. He’s going to hate himself for this, I hope he doesn’t remember it. I also hope I can stop him before he kills the rest of us.

  9

  I gather the last of my strength and reach back, grabbing Patrick’s bony wrist. He jerks when I begin electrocuting him and tries to pull away, but I refuse to let go. I send more magic into him and he grabs my hurt arm with his free hand, digging into the wound. I scream in pain but don’t stop.

  He bites down on my forearm and I push everything left into him, enough that I’m worried I might kill both of us. His eyes roll back in his head and he finally falls, his teeth ripping my skin on the way out. Blood drips freely from the wound.

  I feel like I’m floating now. I’m so tired and everything hurts. I close my eyes to rest, just for a second, when I hear banging on the door I had come in earlier. I think I might have been hearing it for a while.

  A strange dent appears on the inside of the door, then another. The door rattles with each impact, the metal straining against the hinges and the frame. Another hit and I realize they aren’t dents, they’re the opposite. Something is coming through the other side.

  There is a loud crack and the concrete around the door begins to give way. Two more hits and the entire door falls down flat in a cloud of dust. Georgia, now in wolf form, and Javier lunge into the room, looking around for anyone else.

  “We’re alone,” I croak out. “Martinez—got away.”

  Javier runs over to the cage and tries to lift it, but hisses and jerks away when he touches it.

  “How do we open it?”

  “Lever. Wall.”

  The cage lifts slowly towards the ceiling and Georgia slides underneath, changing back into her human form as she does. She watches Patrick warily as she yanks apart the chains holding Novak and myself. She pulls me out from underneath Novak. Patrick grunts and holds his meal closer as it shifts, growling irritably at us for disturbing him. He’s still not fully conscious. His muscles are spasming randomly.

  Javier crouches next to Patrick, smoothing a hand down the side of his face and whispering in his ear. He bites his own wrist and presses a few drops into Patrick’s mouth, who latches on eagerly.

  Georgia picks up Novak and moves him a short distance away, closing his eyes and folding his hands across his chest respectfully. Laurel is still hanging unconscious behind us, so Georgia moves to get her down next. Javier crouches beside me, his face unreadable.

  “Is Patrick okay?” I ask.

  “He will be,” Javier says, helping me sit up. “Olivia, drink from me. It will help you heal.”

  “I don’t need--”

  “You are exhausted magically and physically, please let me help you.”

  He presses his wrist to my mouth, and I let him. I’m too tired to fight, and some instinct inside of me knows it will help. As soon as the blood hits my tongue, I want to clamp down and suck. I can feel the magic that runs through him, keeping him alive. I could take it, all of it, so easily.

  I shove his wrist away. “I’ll be fine.”

  He stares at me, brows pinched together, then finally sighs and helps me stand “You will stay with the clan for tonight at least, we don’t know if NWR might try to retaliate. We can’t be sure we got them all.”

  “We didn’t get them all. One got away,” I say, tears burning at the back of my eyes. I refuse to let them fall. Javier has already seen me cry once.

  “Who?”

  “Detective Jason Martinez.”

  The rest of the police are already outside once Javier carries me back upstairs. The mayor is there too, and he sobs as he holds his daughter. She’s still unconscious, but the paramedics are saying she’ll live.

  I get a lot of questions and answer them all the same way. Detective Novak was able, despite his terrible wounds, to kill two of their men and render Patrick unconscious before he died. I did my best to heal him and keep him alive, but it wasn’t enough. The words taste like ash in my mouth, especially since I’m the one that killed him.

  They load me into one of the ambulances, one of the wolves goes with me at Javier’s insistence. As soon as the painkillers hit my bloodstream, I don’t care what they do with me.

  I manage two hours of sleep after we get back. I still feel dirty, the nurses cleaned most of the blood off of me, but I didn’t get a proper shower. Javier had insisted I stay in his room, I didn’t bother arguing. Before I had fallen asleep, he had paced the room, asking every few minutes how I was feeling, if I needed anything. I think he wanted the comfort of someone else there as much as I do. He’s dead asleep now, curled up under the covers like a little boy. I smooth his hair back and tuck the covers a little t
ighter around him. I wish I could do the same for Patrick.

  The bath fills up quickly with almost too hot water. It feels amazing as I step in. I have to keep my right arm out of the water, but I manage to bathe awkwardly with my left hand. It helps, but I know I still won’t be able to sleep.

  I change into the fresh pajamas Javier had laid out for me and slip downstairs to the kitchen. Lydia is pouring herself a cup of coffee. She’s wearing a fluffy pink robe over a long nightshirt with a picture of a cat on it. She still holds herself like she’s in the courtroom though, and the combination is odd.

  “Want one?” She asks quietly.

  “Yeah, that’d be great.”

  She grabs another mug and fills it with coffee. I add cream and three scoops of sugar, then follow her out onto the back porch. We sit down on the porch swing and I curl my feet up underneath me.

  Javier keeps a really beautiful garden out back. The back of the house looks out down a sloping hill. Javier had a maze of hedges built that covers most of the backyard, but right in front of the porch is a colorful array of flowers that are all pointed toward the sun, drinking up the rays.

  “How are you feeling?” Lydia asks as she pushes off the floor with her toe, swinging us backward.

  “A little crazy. Worried about Patrick. Scared,” I admit.

  “Patrick is going to be okay, he’ll recover,” Lydia says, blowing across her mug before taking a sip.

  “But he won’t be the same. They hurt him, and even though it was unwillingly he still killed some people.”

  “You killed some people too, from what I heard. You both will recover from that. Patrick is resilient, I’m not sure how much you know of his history, but this won’t be enough to break him.”

  I take a drink to avoid answering. I know it won’t break him, but I dread seeing him without the twinkle in his eye. “I expected to get questioned by the police again before I left the hospital.”