“Open your eyes.”
George’s order was so soft and tender that she had fluttered her eyes open without question, seeking his reassurance.
Her eyes were heavier than she’d expected, coated all the way to her lashes in black, skin tight fire-magic.
It stopped at her nostrils, so she figured it was safe to open her mouth, gasping in air.
“Good,” Daemon said. “George, move out of the way, so she can see the tree.”
Heavy shoulders moved to the side of her vision as a stump came into view. The splintered remains of the stump had been a thirty-foot pine, moments earlier.
"So, your air-magic isn’t just hot air. That was a military-grade air-bomb you blew,” Raphael commented.
“I did that?” she asked.
It wasn’t really a question, more awe at a physical display of what she’d always assumed was a weak power.
“All you, sweetheart,” Daemon affirmed. “Those rogue vampires and demons in the human realm have no idea how lucky they were when they were only staked back to Maeren in a fight with you. If your mother had taught you to use your offensive magic, there wouldn’t have been an instant trip back home for them.”
“I did use magic,” she reminded him. “My lightning-illusions were top notch. There was no need to use anything flashier that might get me noticed in the human realm.”
Still, blowing trees apart was a handy skill for what they were planning. It could provide a crucial distraction, even better than her usual flash and stab.
“Illusions are a defensive magic at heart,” George disagreed. “Your illusions aren’t going to take down the enemy for you. Offensive magic is important for battle. We need you to learn a few more simple attacks.”
“I thought I was going to run around dodging fireballs?” she asked, trailing off when even Raphael tried to laugh in his dragon form.
It wasn’t pretty, more snorting and he hiccuped a few flames.
“Wait, I’m not ready yet!” she shouted, leaping away from Raphael’s fire.
She assumed a defensive position that she had picked up from Jill. It presented the less surface area to her attackers, in a sideways stance.
"That was an accident. You didn’t really think we were going to play dodge the fireball?" Raphael asked.
"I assumed that you expected less dodging and more facing down the flames,” Elizabeth said.
“Think of it like paintball,” Daemon suggested.
She met his amused hazel eyes, crinkled at the corners and he smiled at her.
Yes, somebody had definitely spied on her and her sister playing in the backyard—and that meant he knew they had a rule to dress in tight lycra pants and sports bras only when getting splattered with colourful paint, in order to make the laundry easier.
It hurt more when one of them got shot, but having a sister with healing abilities made that more of an annoyance, and an incentive to not get shot in the first place.
George looked confused.
Raphael read her thoughts, so he knew exactly what paintball was without needing to ask.
She shot Raphael a dirty look. He was getting too comfortable with peeking in her mind.
She shared her memory of paintball with George, as well, since it wasn’t a secret any longer.
“So, how do I get to shoot you guys back? I don’t have fire-magic, remember?” she complained.
“Technically, you do have fire,” George said. “Rai is a demon familiar—which is unusual—but like all demons, she has a stolen bit of magic to supplement her own.”
“You mean my magical-soul stole my magic?”
“Pretty much. You probably could access it, if you worked more with your familiar to unlock your powers further,” George suggested.
“It would take more training and time, definitely more time than we have right now,” Daemon added, putting a damper on things.
That was okay. She was fine not having fire at her fingertips.
“So, I spit air-bombs at you?” she clarified, sounding unsure. She looked at the tree and back at George. “What would happen if you shielded earth against air?”
“It would shatter or slice through the rock,” George admitted, not seeming all that worried.
“Don’t worry, he’ll dodge. Despite being a lumbering earth-prince, he can be quick on his feet when it counts,” Daemon teased.
“This is a bad idea,” she complained.
“I can shield blue and your air shouldn’t penetrate. I will shield lightning if you get your strength up to Daemon’s air-magic. The fire will burn through the air—as fuel—before it can touch me,” George explained.
She still looked uncertain, until Raphael flapped his wings and lifted off, lazily blowing a stream of fire from his overhead advantage to strike just behind her back. It made her ass feel toasty warm.
She narrowed her eyes at him.
"That is cheating. Flying is against the rules,” Elizabeth said.
"I didn’t hear any rules. Now run!”
“Can I shoot lightning? Is it safe . . . in practice?” she asked Daemon, leaping away before the fire nipped too close to her heels.
“For us, yes. All of us will be shielding, and you have your black shield. Same method as with air, but concentrate on the feel of your lightning in your chi before spitting. It is a deeper pull from your chest,” he answered, sending up some covering fire to keep Raphael off of her while she ran to the trees.
Being overhead wasn’t going to give the dragon much advantage there.
"It will, if I burn the trees down around you,” Raphael threatened.
"Hey, there could be little wild animals in there. No burning down all the trees with your big dragon fire. Try a little finesse, Puff,” Elizabeth shouted at him.
"Who is this Puff you keep calling me?" Raphael asked.
She giggled and ran harder, using lightning to letting Raphael see the friendly cartoon dragon from her childhood in the human realm.
Red flames cut off her escape, fire weaving its way around her in a free circle.
Without chalk to hold it, the barrier would be easier to break.
She turned around, staring at George’s blue eyes, power still flickering in them. The fiery wall he’d made was transparent enough for him to watch her as she reached out to touch his magic.
The black covering her skin vibrated as she made contact. It was the strangest sensation, the feeling fluttering against her like she was dressed in hummingbirds, their wings beating harder and faster as she walked through the circle unharmed.
Orange fire bathed her from above, catching her completely by surprise.
She tried to shield automatically. The black that was wrapped around her skin beat against her own magic.
There was no way to get her shield out, in front of the black magic that belonged to George. It would not obey her.
She looked upwards—into the flames—and shot the lightning she had been trying to shield up at the orange sky, shouting Raphael’s name, so he knew it was coming.
She wanted Raphael to back off, to not be fried.
Hearing the thunderous boom of her lightning, she knew the magic had expelled like a bolt from her lips to disperse into the sky.
George would be after her next, as soon as the flames died down.
She spat air again. This time, she aimed for the ground at her feet and rode the pressure wave up to send her flying away from where George would expect her.
She levitated, keeping her feet off of the ground, so George couldn’t track her with his earth.
Blue flames hit the ground, a few moments after her feet left it.
She smiled at the look of concentration on George’s face as he tried to find her, searching his blue flames for black.
She was in his head more than he was in hers.
George still didn’t know how to get around her mental barrier to her inner thoughts.
The sneak attack she was planning was under wraps.
"Storms do not come from the ground usually. I’m sure that was against the rules,” Raphael said.
"The only rule is don’t get hit. I was aiming for the sky. You shouldn’t have gotten in the way, Puff,” Elizabeth taunted.
George was going to figure out that she wasn’t still on the ground, surrounded by his flame, any moment now.
Using what she knew best, she pulled out a full senses illusion, tricking George’s mind.
She was slithering on the ground, in a commando-like crawl on her belly, towards the tree line.
She breathed hard and her air beat at George’s flames ineffectually, sending them flickering madly.
George felt bad for all of two seconds before he tried to literally toast her ass.
The illusion shot him the middle finger, while the real Elizabeth landed as best she could behind him, trying to gently spit her air down to catch her body.
She used illusion to create a firenado in front of George that normally wouldn’t be possible for her.
Her air twirled with blue fire together.
Of course, it was all illusion, but she made it seem so real that George stopped everything he was doing to stare.
She struck. Leaping onto George from behind, she aimed for his neck, like a Hollywood vampire.
"Well done, little one,” he praised.
One second, she was attacking, and the next had her flipped over George’s shoulder.
His hands grabbed her as she leapt on him from behind, and then levered her over his body as he ducked down.
She screamed bloody murder as she went flying.
Air caught her inches from the ground, before releasing her, softening the impact considerably as she landed flat on her back.
Orange flames flambéed them from above, now raining real fire as well as the illusion twirling around them with her firenado still going strong.
Raphael wanted to join in on the fun.
George smirked down at her, roping lightning around her wrists, with a flick of his fingers, and dragging her hands up over her head.
She didn’t give him any warning, spitting lightning back up at George.
That taught her two things. He could shield black, literally lightning fast, and he could only shield one of them with black at a time.
The heat of Raphael’s fire never touched her, thanks to a hasty lightning shield thrown over her body by Daemon when George’s black was stripped from her body.
Daemon was by her side in an instant, picking her up off the ground with a glare at George.
“Drop it! I can do this,” she told Daemon.
The lightning flashed away to be replaced with her own shield, as soon as Daemon’s hands left her, letting her stand on her own.
She smiled and Daemon returned it.
Moving her shield around like they had taught her, she turned around and kicked George in the shins.
He grunted, backing up a step.
His black might repel lightning, but a good air-powered kick still got through.
There was a big weakness she’d discovered to the black. It didn’t let other magic through—like George’s earth to harden his body.
Waving bye-bye, she sent George and his black-shielded body flying to the tree line.
This time, she thought she heard him screaming her name with some derogatory titles.
Using air again, she levitated herself up to meet Raphael, opening her arms like she was using them to fly, too, except there was lightning sparkling from her fingers.
The dragon flapped his great wings, circling, and diving fast to intimidate her. He tried to hide it, but the beast in him was excited, ready to claim prey in his clawed feet.
"You want a storm? Get ready to rumble, Puff,” Elizabeth said.
This was something she had only imagined doing, never strong enough in the human realm.
It had been the dream release she’d always wanted for her magic.
A storm was exactly what brewed inside her, raging to get out.
The wind howled around her, this time the fury no longer illusion. She reached down deep into her chi and let the lightning build into a tight ball, counting the seconds until Raphael would be in striking range.
"Can you shield it?" Elizabeth asked, once more.
Raphael’s hide turned black, answering her question. He never deviated from his flight, a powerful monster that could easily snap her in half with one bite.
They would all think her weak—every vampire, demon, and dragon they faced would dismiss her with one look unless she made them see what she was really capable of doing: complete and utter destruction.
Raphael blew one last fiery breath at her, his flames licking over her face for a blinding moment before she dropped her shield and released the lightning ball that she had been holding in her chi.
It arced from her body, like when she was the centre of the amplifying circle, this time pushing out.
Clawed feet snatched her from the sky.
She fell limp in Raphael’s grip, dropping her magic and hoping he had enough control over his body to land them gently.
Lightning spasmed over his black hide, a dance that she knew all too well. Fire might burn you, but lightning took over your body, twisting muscles to its demands.
Just as suddenly as she worried, his claws released her into free falling for a brief, screaming moment before her air caught her, backed by Daemon’s magic.
Raphael had dropped her over the heads of her mates.
"Let me, sweetheart,” Daemon told her.
She did, floating down into Daemon’s arms to be cradled against his chest.
The lightning shield she dropped as she heard Raphael crash, feeling the drain of her magic expenditure ache, just like the sore muscles Raphael was cursing in his thoughts.
He was fine.
Groaning meant he’d live.
These males were strong. They’d told her not to hold back.
She proved she could fight fire and not get burned.
Not Alone
George peeled his black off as he walked over to peer down at her in his brother’s arms.
The earth-fire prince was dirty, sweaty, and had a look of command on his face.
She felt like telling Daemon to release her, so she could stand to attention, but Daemon wasn’t letting her go anytime soon.
“What did I tell you about illusions?” George asked in lieu of inquiring if she was okay.
He picked some tree debris off of his clothes while he waited.
She refused to feel guilty. He had asked for it, practically begging her to bring it when he disparaged her old ‘flash and stab’ technique.
“I didn’t attack you with the illusion. That’s called air-magic. It creates a big wind that sends you flying out of action,” Elizabeth explained, wrapping her arms around Daemon. “I’m sure your brother can explain, sir.”
Her insubordination was duly noted, a little muscle ticking in George’s left temple as his eyes narrowed on her. His gaze also lingered over the secure grip Daemon had on her body.
Adding ‘sir’ at the end had been a mean poke, but she had meant to point out that this wasn’t the battlefield and George could give the commander role up.
“I think George would rather hear how you created such perfect illusions. They were so immersive that even I could feel the heat of your firestorm,” Daemon remarked.
The pride that came out wrapped her in more warmth, making it easier to face George’s glower.
She reached a hand out and pulled a bigger piece of debris from George’s shoulder.
“The proper term is firenado, and that was a lightning shitstorm I treated Raphael to last,” she said.
George’s lips twitched. “Are those the proper military terms for your maneuvers?”
“Don’t try to tell me that your soldiers talk like kids having juice and cookies,” she challenged, meeting his stare head on.
George was doing it again, getting shamelessly close when she was
between him and his brother, sandwiching her.
A burnt smell interrupted their stare-down. What was . . . ?
“Raphael!” she yelled, squirming out of Daemon’s arms.
George didn’t back up an inch, leaving her squashed up against him as she got her feet under her.
She was forced to grab onto George’s sweaty biceps to keep her balance.
He flexed under her touch, his hands wrapping around her back to steady her.
“Lightning shitstorm? More like Thor’s temper tantrum,” Raphael said.
"You know Thor?" Elizabeth asked.
"Dragons were around when humans were creating their Norse myths."
"Maybe he was an ancient vampire. Myths are usually based on facts twisted by beliefs,” Elizabeth said.
"Right now I’d settle for that earth-prince looking like he’s going to eat you up. Can you blow him over my way? I need healing if I’m flying all of you back to the caves."
She laughed against George’s chest.
Raphael was going to get her in more trouble.
“Uh, George?”
“I thought it was ‘sir,’” the chest rumbled.
She tried to back up, but George was having none of it.
Daemon was already gone, having decided to check on their ride home.
His whistle said he had started the initial assessment of Raphael’s injuries and they were exclamation worthy.
“Sir, please,” she begged, pushing against George’s hard body.
George groaned, but she didn’t think it was from real pain. He was a damn rock.
“Maeren, you’re so perfect. That illusion was spellbinding and—”
“Don’t make me hurt you, sir,” she interrupted, blowing him over to Raphael as requested.
They both ended up slamming into Raphael’s injured side since George wouldn’t release her. It elicited a mighty dragon roar.
George merely grunted.
Her nose ended up meeting George’s leather-armoured chest, to which she squeaked out her surprise and swore, “Fucking hell,” and hastily added, “Sir.”
Daemon plucked her from his brother’s grip.
“I told you not to break her,” Daemon muttered, tipping her face backwards to assess her nose.
Witch Darkness Follows (Maeren Series Book 3) Page 44