Deep down she knew what fed this feeling. Fear, but not the fear she suffered in the past. Not the type of terror that consumed her childhood. That had been for herself, her safety. This feeling, this trepidation, was for the man she loved. Damien. She feared now for his life and it fed the anger to protect her own.
Damien was hers and she was his. They were Tiras, mates, lovers. Two halves of a whole and all that other silly romantic nonsense she never truly believed existed. This feeling inside her driven by the immense love she had for the Euadaemon. Her fear wasn’t for her life, but his. True, Damien was a strong leader and skilled fighter, but that did not make him invincible. He could be hurt. He could die.
No!
Damien would not die. She wouldn’t allow it. She may not be a fighter. She may not be skilled with a sword or have great strength, but she was a Witch with power. Sitting in this room hiding like an ostrich with her head in the sand did no one a bit of good. They were outnumbered. She could help.
Resolve in place, she tucked the small weapon Damien left her with into her belt loop. Cuthbert had indeed brought up all of her clothing to Damien’s room. Celia threw on a pair of jeans and a green t-shirt after Damien rushed out. Not her normal everyday wear, but comfortable and easy to move in. A fact for which she was extremely grateful now.
She slipped on black flats, then made her way to the bedroom door. The dresser had to go first. She pushed against the heavy furniture. It slid across the floor, making an ear-cringing shriek as it scraped the hardwood. Once the dresser was out of the way, Celia paused. She placed her ear to the door.
Nothing.
Maybe the Kakos hadn’t made it inside yet. Good. She did not want to run into anyone right away. She was determined to help, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t scared spit-less.
The door creaked open as she turned the knob and pushed. She peeked out into the hallway. No one. Perfect. She stepped out into the hallway. Now if she could just make her way downstairs to the front door. Then she could—
“I hoped you would make this easy on me,” a shrill, familiar voice said from behind her.
Celia turned to see the hallway not as empty as she first suspected. Cory stood just behind her. Well, most of Cory. The woman was missing the left half of her face and arm. How the hell was that possi—?
“Invisibility spell?” Celia asked, as the woman’s limb and face materialized once again.
“So smart, Celia. The genius Witch.” Cory spat with venom. “Everyone thinks you are so smart, but you weren’t smart enough to see what happened right under your own nose, were you? You weren’t smart enough to ID the mole.”
No she wasn’t, because it had never occurred to Celia to suspect her own assistant.
“I trusted you.” Her heart still ached with the pain of her assistant’s betrayal. “We all did.”
Cory laughed; a bitter sound that rubbed her nerves raw. “Then you are a bigger fool than I thought.”
No, Cory was the fool, for thinking the High Master would give her power. Men like him did not share anything. Least of all power. Celia thought Cory would realize that after seeing Ian killed, but apparently, the woman remained delusional.
“It’s not too late. Turn yourself in and maybe Racine and the council will show you mercy.” More mercy than the High Master once she was of no use to him.
Cory stared at Celia as if she were crazy. “Turn myself in? Why the hell would I do that? The High Master has promised me more power than you could ever dream of.”
Promises meant nothing coming from a man like him.
“Not that you would know what to do with that much power anyway,” Cory continued sneering. “You never were much of a magic user, were you, Celia?”
No, she preferred science. All that started to change now, though.
Cory shook her head. “I never understood why you always tinkered with all that research and school junk when you could just use magic to get the jobs done.”
“Magic isn’t the answer for everything.”
“Says the nerd.”
Her back bristled. “Nerds are in now, haven’t you heard?”
Cory scoffed. “How’s all that book learning going to save you when I bring you back to the High Master in pieces?”
She reached down, pulling the dagger from her belt loop. She held the small weapon in her hand, pointing it at Cory.
“You are not taking me anywhere.”
The mad woman laughed so hard, tears gathered in the corner of her evil eyes. “Oh Celia, still thinking with that stupid brain of yours. You really think that dinky piece of metal will stop me? You are definitely not as smart as people say. I mean, really.” The other woman reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out a vial filled with yellow liquid. “Bringing a knife to a magic fight?”
Cory brought her arm up and threw the vial down at Celia’s feet. She muttered a familiar invocation. The vial shattered inches in front of Celia. Noxious, yellow smoke rose. She knew what was in the vial. A knock out spell. She recognized the Latin Cory used. She may be more of a scientist than a Witch, but she knew all the basic spells. She also knew how to dispel them.
Calling forth on her element, she set the liquid on fire. Burning away the smoke, spell, and its intended effects. It came in handy having fire as your element.
“So that’s how you want to play it then.” Cory’s eyes gleamed with madness. “A battle of the elements? Which Witch has the most powerful magic?”
The amount of power didn’t matter, rather how to wield it. Something her former assistant never understood.
“You know my element, don’t you, Celia?” Cory asked with a cruel smile.
She nodded. “Air.”
Cory could call upon the air to blow, lift things. If she wanted, the other Witch could even cause the air to whirl into a tornado and take the house apart. But then she would die too. That did not seem like the smartest move.
Looking into Cory’s crazed eyes, Celia wondered if the woman’s thinking contained any rational thought at the moment.
“Your fire against my air. May the best Witch win.”
She shook her head. “You’re not a Witch anymore, Cory.” That title was reserved for people who used magic responsibly, for good. Cory used her magic for selfish reasons, to get ahead, to get what she wanted. That made her a—
“I know. I’m more powerful than a Witch. I’m a Sorceress now!” the other woman shrieked with glee.
More powerful? Maybe, but too much power could drive a person mad. By the looks of Cory, she passed mad days ago. The woman was a stark-raving lunatic. And still, Celia felt sorrow for what she knew she had to do.
“Let’s finish this,” she said softly, bringing forth a small flickering ball of fire into the palm of her hand.
Cory smiled, eyes wide with psychosis. “No, I’m going to finish you and then, the High Master will reward me.”
No, he would kill her. Painfully and cruelly. She had given Cory a chance. Now the only thing she could do for the delusional woman was give her a quick release.
Cory screamed, throwing her hand up. Air immediately swirled and twisted in the long hallway. The dagger flew from her grasp. Celia’s hair blew into her face. She pulled it back with one hand. The flame in her palm died. Suffocated by the air churning around her.
Pictures flew off the wall, slamming into her. Her knees gave out and she tumbled down to the ground. Long strands of red hair whipped over her eyes, making it impossible to see. She could still hear, though. And what she heard was Cory’s cackling laughter.
“You’re such a fool, Celia. You have no idea the power the High Master can give.”
The oxygen was being sucked from her lungs; Cory had created a small vortex in the hallway with Celia directly inside it. The light started to dim. She knew she would pass out soon. Was this it then? Cory and the Kakos won? Celia would die at the hand of someone she once trusted?
No!
She would not give up. She would fig
ht!
Her dagger lay a few inches away, lodged in the floor when ripped from her hands by the magic wind. If she could reach it, maybe she could use it against Cory. Distract the woman. Get the swirling wind to stop so she had a chance.
Celia inched forward. The strong wind battering her body made it hard to move. Pictures slammed into her. Dust flew into her eyes, blinding her. Somehow, she made her way the few inches necessary to reach out and grasp the hilt of the dagger. She tugged. The weapon didn’t budge, wedged tight into the hallway floor.
Calling on a strength she didn’t know she had, Celia pulled hard. The dagger slipped free of the floor. She rolled, throwing the dagger as hard as she could at Cory. The other woman let out a screech and ducked.
The Sorceress lost her concentration. The air around Celia stopped swirling. She sucked in a large breath of oxygen. Knowing she only had seconds, she quickly rose to her feet and called upon fire. Flames danced from her fingertips. They headed toward their mark.
Cory.
“No!” Cory screamed, throwing her hands up.
But too late. Celia’s flames hit Cory’s body before the other woman could call forth air. The distraction worked.
Cory screamed as the flames enveloped her. Tears streamed down Celia’s face. She didn’t want to kill her assistant, but she knew Cory had gone too far into the darkness to ever come back. Maybe the woman had never been good. Perhaps, it had always been an act. Regardless, she knew this death was far more merciful than the one the High Master had in store for her.
In a matter of seconds, the mad woman lay as a pile of ash. Celia dropped to the floor. Sobs racked her body. Bile rose in her throat at the truth of what she had just done. She killed. In self-defense, but still, to take the life of someone you once called friend was a hard thing to deal with.
“Oh, Cory,” she whispered to the pile of ash. “I’m so sorry. I wish things could have been different. I wish you would have listened to me.”
But the Sorceress didn’t listen. She’d wanted more power and all it did was twist her.
“Sometimes it is better to be smart than powerful.”
Because knowledge was power and that was the greatest power of them all.
Chapter 28
Damien glanced at the bloodbath on his front lawn. Assholes. They actually thought they could attack him on his own turf and win? Not in this lifetime. Kako bodies littered the ground. The once lush, green grass now matted and stained with blood. Not all of it Kako blood.
He knelt down next to one of the new Enforcers. A young fox shifter named Annalisa. She had been a good recruit. Strong, fast, smart. Now she lay on the ground, belly sliced open, organs scattered around her. Her eyes were wide open, but vacant. Void of life.
“Shit.” He always hated to lose one of his own, but it happened. No war came without casualties.
“Annalisa? Fuck, no!” Kang’s voice was a growl behind him.
Damien placed a gentle hand on the dead woman’s eyes, closing her lids. Now she appeared to sleep. If you didn’t look below her neck.
“Report?” They would mourn the dead later. Now they needed to make sure the enemy was defeated.
Kang’s fists clenched. The Werewolf stared at Annalisa’s still form, ignoring Damien. His teeth lengthened, his claws descended.
“Kang,” Damien spoke forcefully. “Report.”
He understood the Shifter’s anger. Kang trained the new Enforcers. He was closer to them than anyone. Still, they had a job to do. Finally, Kang tore his gaze from his fellow Enforcer. Golden eyes filled with anger turned to Damien.
“The threat is eliminated. All the Kakos are dead. We have a few injuries, but nothing that can’t heal.” His eyes turned back to Annalisa. “Except…”
“She fought bravely, Kang. You taught her well.”
“Not well enough.” The man’s fist tightened, knuckles turning white.
Damien heard the guilt laced with rage in those words. He understood how Kang felt, but right now, he had other priorities. His gaze flew to his bedroom window. He couldn’t see Celia from here. That was a good thing, right? It meant she had followed his directions and stayed away from the window. Or it meant someone got into the house and—
No. No, she was all right. She had to be.
“Take Annalisa inside. We will give her a proper funeral tomorrow. Have the wounded head down to the infirmary. Then clean up all this garbage out here.”
Kang grunted. Damien left the man to his tasks. He knew his Enforcer suffered; they all did. The Kakos had never attacked them so directly before. Things were definitely changing. He needed to find out why. Good thing they still had the Kako they took the other night locked up in the basement. They would get answers out of him. But first, Damien needed to check on someone.
Making his way past the broken, bleeding bodies, he strode up the front steps and into the house. He took the stairs two at a time. His heart raced as he neared the top. Was Celia okay? She had to be. No one got inside. They couldn’t have.
At the top of the stairs, he saw the door to his room wide open. Fear clutched him in an icy grip. His heart pounded. For a moment, his whole world crashed around him, and then he saw her. Celia, sitting in the middle of the hallway. Pictures and glass scattered around her. She sat, hunched over and it looked as if she were…crying?
“Celia!” He rushed to her side. Kneeling beside her, he saw tear tracks running down her cheeks. “Tira, what is it? Are you hurt?”
He ran his hands over her body, checking for wounds. A sigh of relief left him when he found none.
“Celia.” Placing a finger under her chin, he tipped her head back. Emerald green eyes glassy with fresh tears stared at him. So much pain in those eyes it ripped his heart right from his chest. “What happened?”
“She found me,” Celia said softly, her gaze drifting back to a pile of ashes laying a few feet in front of them. “Cory. I heard what was happening. I was afraid for you. I thought I could help.”
She had been afraid for him?
“I opened the door and there she was. She was crazy, Damien. How did I never see it before?”
“Some people are very good at hiding their true selves.”
She wiped at her cheeks. “Maybe I never looked close enough at her to see, but the woman was mad. She wanted power, magic. The more the better.”
The usual MO with bad guys. Or girls in this case.
“She planned to take me back to him. To her High Master. He would have killed her eventually, but she didn’t see that. I had to defend myself. I had to—”
Her words broke off as she stared at the ash pile. Tears gathered in her eyes once more. Realization hit him. Cory confronted Celia, threatened her. Celia fought back and eliminated the threat, killed Cory. A terrible act often required in battle. But Celia had never been in battle. She was not a warrior like him. The sweet Witch was softness and warmth, kindness and healing. It must have torn her up inside to take another life. Even if necessary to save herself.
He wrapped his arms around her. Tucking her into his body. “Oh, Tira. I’m so sorry. You did what you had to do.”
“I know.” Her body shuddered in his embrace.
They sat in the hallway, holding each other. Letting the death and pain of the past few days wash away.
“Did you stop the rest of them? Is everyone all right?”
“Yes, we stopped them. We lost one of our own, but the others will be fine.”
She pulled away to look up at him. “Oh, Damien. I’m so sorry.”
He tucked a strand of fiery red hair behind her ear. “Casualties are expected in war, Tira.”
She glanced at the remnants of Cory and sighed. “Yes, I suppose they are.”
“I hate to ask this of you right now, but I need your help.”
“What?”
He sucked in a breath, hating to do this to her after the trauma she just experienced, but he had no other option. They needed to get to the bottom of this now. Befo
re more attacks happened.
“I need you to talk to the prisoner we captured yesterday. You’re the only one who knows the Kako language. We need to know what Rysis has planned.”
Celia sat up straighter. Her tears dried and a look of determination set her face. Amazing the way she could pull herself together when a job needed done. Gods he loved her.
“Take me to him.”
He rose, bringing her with him. They made their way downstairs and even lower still to the basement. Cuthbert and the lab workers already shuffled around, tending to the wounded. He motioned the Brownie over.
“We need to see the prisoner.”
Cuthbert nodded. “He’s in the cells, sir. First one on the right.”
He thanked the old man, then grasped Celia’s hand and led her toward the back. Region eight’s cells were far nicer than the shithole Celia endured as a captive. The floors were cement, not dirt. The beds hard, but clean and the toilets actually worked. They had to lock supernaturals up from time to time, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t treat their prisoners with a little dignity.
They arrived at the cell Cuthbert indicated. A short, broad-shouldered man sat on the bed in the corner. He rocked back and forth, muttering to himself.
“Hey, you,” Damien called to the man. “We need some answers and you’re going to give them to me.”
The man laughed. A cold, menacing laugh. “Am I now?”
“Yes.” He felt Celia’s grip on his hand tighten. He squeezed back, letting her know she was in no danger. No harm would come to her while he was around. “Tell us what you know of your boss’s plans.”
The Kako smiled, baring his teeth. “And why should I tell you?”
Damien didn’t smile back. He simply stared at the man. “Because if you don’t, I’m going to rip every limb from your body. Starting with your toes and working my way up.”
The Kako flinched. Yeah, he knew Damien wasn’t bluffing. Still, the man said, “If I tell you, the High Master will do much worse.”
“The High Master can’t get to you in here. Tell us what you know and you can spend the rest of your days with your limbs attached.”
Daemon Deception Page 19
