The Trouble With Magic

by Tania Hutley

  “Drink,” commands a male voice. “Hold it down.”

  More of the blood and wine mixture floods into my mouth and I cough and gasp for air. I’m too weak to fight. My limbs are full of lead.

  I try to understand what’s happening. Where I am.

  And then I remember.

  I killed my uncle with magic and now I really am a murderer.

  I’ve killed Xander too.

  Oh god.

  Chanting starts. It’s the same weird chanting the council members were doing during the ceremony. My mouth opens without my permission and I feel my own voice join in, blending with the others to make a single sound. Magic crackles through my body, lighting my veins with sizzling fire. For a moment I’m comforted, the familiar feeling of magic making me feel warm and at home.

  But my magic has betrayed me yet again. My animal and earth magic have combined to do the unthinkable. I’ve destroyed the one person I was trying to help.

  Xander.

  A sob rises in my throat. I don’t want the magic. I’ll never use it again.

  “Try to relax.” It’s the same male voice, only now it sounds different. “The ceremony is almost over.”

  A wave of grief and loss washes over me, the emotions so intense I gasp.

  “They’re dead,” I choke out. But I’m no longer thinking of Xander. Two unfamiliar faces blend into my consciousness, and I feel their absence as though they’ve been carved out of my soul.

  “You’re feeling our loss,” says the voice. “Sharing the deaths of Valdis and Bryn. They were our newest members, inducted during the ceremony. They were too inexperienced to survive the demon’s assault.”

  I’m feeling pain for people I don’t know? What about Xander?

  The voice sounds like Magnus, and it seems too close for comfort. Did I hear his voice through my ears, or inside my mind?

  What the HELL is going on?

  The chanting stops abruptly.

  “Ouch,” grumbles a different voice in my mind. “That was painfully loud.”

  “We had to do it,” says a woman’s voice. “You were all but dead. We couldn’t have brought you back any other way.”

  “We did it to save you.” It sounds girlish. Like the Veritas.

  I manage to lift my hands and clamp them over my ears, though the voices aren’t coming through there. The council members are speaking directly into my head. Blinking to clear my vision, I discover that I’m lying on the stone floor in one of the circles in the ceremony room. The council members stand around me, their expressions ranging from worried to angry.

  When I realize what they’ve done, my stomach lurches.

  They made me drink the mixed blood of the council. They’ve forced me to join with the magic of the group.

  “What have you done?” I croak, my voice like sandpaper on a grater.

  “You were dying—”

  “NOT inside my head,” I say.

  Above me, Magnus clears his throat. “It was the only way to save you. After your bravery, we couldn’t let you die. It didn’t seem right.” He clears his throat again. “And the council needs strong witches like you…” He trails off as if realizing his words aren’t exactly what I want to hear.

  “You’ve forced me to join the Blood Council? Against my will?” Everything is churning inside me, my magic, my thoughts, my blood. I’ve gone from being a loner ex-witch hated by the establishment to being inextricably bound to the very people who cut me off from my magic all those years ago.

  They’re inside my mind.

  Bile burns up my throat. I’m going to throw up.

  “We healed you.” The voice is probably supposed to be soothing. A hand touches my shoulder and I flinch away.

  The last thing I want is to be part of their circle. I’ve had nothing but contempt for them since my parents died and they threw me away like yesterday’s garbage.

  “Don’t worry, the mind link is just a side effect of the blood moon ceremony.” Magnus sounds tired and his voice is raspy. “In a few hours it’ll weaken, and we’ll lose the ability to speak without words.”

  “We need to bind her magic back up,” snarls Dallas. “It’s dangerous.”

  “We can’t,” says Magnus. “There’s no way to bind her magic without restricting our own power. I’m not willing to do that.”

  “Can you feel our shared magic inside you, Saffy?” asks Aunt Theresa. “You need to be careful. You haven’t had the training to be able to use it. It’ll burn you if you draw on it.”

  I push myself up to sitting, too worried about Xander to think about anything else.

  Two people lie on the floor next to me. Their faces are pale. Blood is caked around their nostrils and has leaked from their eyes like red tears. The two dead witches.

  In the corner are the bloody remains of my uncle. Flinching, I turn quickly away.

  “Xander,” I demand. “Where’s Xander?”

  Then I see him, still lying by the wall where the demon hurled him. He’s on his back, lying with his hands crossed over his chest like a man in a grave.

  With a cry, I struggle to my feet. Though I’m healed, I’m so weak my legs barely support me as I stagger over and collapse beside him. He’s alive. But when I try to touch him, I run into a magic barrier. He’s encased inside an invisible shield.

  “What have you done to him?” I can already tell they’ve sedated him. Their spell is keeping him unconscious.

  Magnus’s expression is grave. “He carries the demon’s essence. Now the bone has been destroyed, his body has become its vessel.”

  “What does that mean? Will he be okay?”

  “I’m sorry. There isn’t much we can do for him.” Aunt Therese crouches next to me, her lined face kind. There’s a lot more life in her eyes than there was before. She seems well again, with color in her cheeks. As if the ceremony healed her too.

  “The demon was absorbing my power through Ray,” she says, as though in answer to my thought. “It confused my mind and drew my life force like a leech. The demon was too strong to resist. It would have sucked me completely dry. You saved me.” She waves her hand at the others who are still standing. “A little longer, and it would have done the same thing to all of us. We all owe our lives to you, Saffy.”

  I killed her husband. My uncle. The realization is like a punch to the gut. I turned him inside out. Why doesn’t she hate me? I’m a murderer now.

  “You had no choice,” she says softly. “There was nothing left of the man I used to love, or the uncle you knew. The demon had consumed him.”

  She means well, but I hate that she can read my thoughts. The blood moon link had better wear off soon, because I can’t stand having any of them in my head.

  “How do we get the demon out of Xander?” My voice is gruff.

  She shakes her head, her eyes creased with sadness. “I’m sorry,” she repeats. “The demon will consume him too. There’s nothing we can do to stop it. We can only contain it.”

  “Contain it?”

  “The Veritas will harden Xander’s flesh. It’ll keep the demon inert until we have a chance to—”

  “Turn him into one of your statues? No way.” I rake my gaze around the remaining council members. “Xander saved you all. You owe him your lives. There has to be a way to get the demon out of him.”

  “We should kill him.” Dallas’s voice is hard. “The demon hasn’t been inside a mundane before. Killing him might destroy it.”

  Magnus shakes his head. “We can’t take the chance of the demon escaping Xander and taking over a more powerful vessel. And we can’t let a mundane walk around with a demon inside him. Jeqabeel’s too dangerous to take chances with.”

  “I won’t let you turn Xander to stone. You’ll have to kill me first.” My fists clench. “And my magic is unbound now,” I think at them. “I’m strong. Maybe I can’t control both strands of my magic so well, but that’s all the more reason for you not to piss me off.”

  They exchange glance
s, probably talking silently but cutting me out of the conversation.

  With an impatient sound, Dallas draws a ceremonial knife out of his belt and stalks toward Xander. “I’m ending this now.”

  I leap in front of him and shove him backward. “Go near him with that knife and I’ll stick it so far up your butt, you’ll be able to cut your food and eat it at the same time.”

  “Stop,” commands Magnus.

  Dallas goes still and lowers the knife. But his glare is so furious, it singes my body hair.

  “You don’t understand, Sapphira,” lisps the Veritas. “When we drank the blood, the demon gained access to our heads and we glimpsed its thoughts. It was like looking through an endless chasm into hell.” The girl shudders, her face twisted with revulsion. “If you’d shared that experience, you’d be ready to do anything to stop it.”

  “You think I won’t do what it takes?” My voice rises. “I stabbed an artery, remember? Are you really questioning how badly I want that thing dead or banished back to wherever it belongs? Because frankly, I’m the only one here who’s done a single damn thing to keep it from taking over the world.” I glare at her, then swing the glare around to include the rest of them, turning it into an equal opportunity glare-fest.

  At least the Veritas has the courtesy to blush.

  “Saffy’s right,” says Aunt Therese in a brisk voice. “We owe her.”

  Dallas’s lip curls. “The demon will drive the mundane insane. Better for him if we kill him now. He’ll beg us for death soon enough.”

  My heart contracts. Just touching the bone drove my uncle to do things I can’t believe he would have been capable of if he hadn’t been under the demon’s influence. And Xander doesn’t just have the demon whispering to him, he has the monster inside him.

  Dallas is right. There’s no way Xander can survive this.

  My throat closes and I try again to touch him. My hands hit the magical barrier, so I can’t take his hands or feel his skin. Even pushing as hard as I can, pouring all my frustration and despair into the effort, I can’t manage to brush his fingers with mine. It makes me want to scream.

  I can’t lose him.

  Aunt Therese puts her hand on my back. “The demon will consume Xander eventually. But he’s mundane, and Jeqabeel feeds on magic. Its strength comes from magical energy and Xander has none to give it. He’s an inert vessel. So we may have time to look for another solution.”

  “How much time do we have?” I meet her gaze.

  Instead of answering aloud, she opens her mind to me. The truth is, she has no idea. None of them do.

  “There’s only one way to find out,” says Magnus. “We’ll wake him.”

  He bends to put one hand just above Xander’s arm, and Therese closes her eyes. Between them they unweave the magic that’s surrounding Xander, and draw it back like a blanket. I can feel them do it, as clearly as if I were doing it myself.

  It’s so orderly that I gape. My magic has always been chaotic and difficult to control. It comes with pain and surges and bolts of lightning. Theirs is as structured as a neat piece of knitting.

  Xander opens his eyes. His breath gets noticeably fast and shallow, but when he jerks himself up to sitting he doesn’t move like someone who’s been badly hurt. “What happened? Where am I?”

  “It’s okay. You’re okay.” Finally, with the barrier down, I can touch him. I reach out and grasp his hand.

  The instant my skin touches his, my mind floods with darkness. A voice whispers in my mind. “I can give you everything, Sapphira.” It’s a deep, seductive whisper. “Death is my mistress. Mine to command. I can give your parents back to you. Or I can make them suffer for all eter—”

  Chest tight, I snatch my hand away.

  “The demon’s voice,” says Aunt Therese, her eyes sympathetic. “Do you hear it, Xander?”

  “I hear something.” He puts one hand to his ear, pressing it as though trying to get rid of an annoying noise. “What is that buzzing sound? How do I make it stop?”

  I meet Magnus’s eyes. “If Xander heard it as clearly as I did, he wouldn’t need to ask.”

  The old man nods, his lips pursed. “Being mundane gives him a level of protection. The demon can’t use him like it would use a witch. And if it could escape him, it would have already done so.”

  “Good. Then I’m taking Xander home.” I stand up and motion Xander to get up too, hoping he has the strength to support himself because I’m afraid to touch him again. “We’ll work on a way to destroy it.”

  “Wait,” says Xander. “What’s going on?”

  “Are you insane?” Dallas ignores him, leveling an accusatory finger at me. “You can’t take him anywhere. You can’t even risk touching him. What if the demon gets out? Or it corrupts you and turns you into its tool, like it did your uncle? What if Therese is wrong about it needing magic to feed? It might get stronger feeding on the mundane. We’ve no way to know.”

  I clench my fists. My blood’s pumping so hard, all I can hear is my heart beating in my ears. “The only reason you’re not Jeqabeel’s plaything right now is because of Xander and me. Over the last few days, I’ve been accused of murder, chased, shot at, drugged, and beaten. While you were sharing bodily fluids with the demon, Xander and I put our lives on the line to stop it. So, if I want to take him home so we can catch our breath and figure out what to do next, I’m damn well going to do it.”

  With an impatient noise, Dallas turns to Magnus. “You’re not seriously going to let her waltz out of here with a mundane and the most dangerous creature that’s ever walked our earth?”

  Xander opens his mouth and then closes it again. He blinks, frowning. Is the demon whispering to him?

  Magnus frowns at him, then at Dallas. “I will make the decision,” he announces, lifting one hand in a ‘wait’ gesture. Then he drops his head, squishing his mouth into his long, gray beard while he thinks.

  I was so sure he was the killer, perhaps because it would have explained why he turned his back on me after my parents died. Guess he’s just a regular asshat rather than a demon-controlled one after all.

  “What’s with the dog smell?” I demand.

  “What?” He lifts his head.

  “You smell like a dog.” I motion at his wrinkled gray shirt, noticing fine hairs that are almost the same color as the fabric.

  He looks down and makes a half-hearted attempt to brush the hairs off his shirt. “I adopted a puppy.”

  As hard as it is to hate someone who adopts puppies, I manage it anyway. I scowl at him, and he gives a reluctant sigh as though he’s being forced into something he doesn’t want to do.

  “I’ve made my decision. You have forty-eight hours, Sapphira.”

  The words etch themselves into my mind with a sharp sting of magic. He’s used a spell to emphasize his words. I have no doubt it’s a time limit I’ll be forced to obey. Yet another reason the council sucks.

  “But you can’t—” starts Dallas.

  Magnus cuts him off with a gesture, still frowning at me. “It’s enough time for you to catch your breath, as you request. Though we think the demon will strengthen, I doubt it’s enough time for it to drive the mundane insane. Or, more importantly, for it to find a way to escape its prison. But be very careful not to touch the mundane. I don’t wish to kill you, but if you allow it to possess your mind, there may be no alternative.”

  “Great,” I mutter. “Way to be reassuring. You ever considered a career in motivational speaking?”

  Xander holds up both hands, his expression bewildered. “Wait a minute. Can you back up to the part where I’m going to be driven insane? And what’s going to happen after forty-eight hours?”

  He looks so confused that all I want to do is reach out and take his hand. The fact I can’t is like a physical pain. I thrust my fists into my pockets.

  “Jeqabeel’s hiding inside you,” I say gently, though I’m sure he’s realized that much at least. “The council members want to turn you to
stone so they can contain it.” I keep my tone conversational, but my eyes narrow at the witches around me.

  “Oh.” Xander swallows. “Are we going to vote on the idea?”

  “I’m not going to let them do it.” I shoot them another don’t-mess-with-me glare. “Here’s what’s going to happen. Xander and I are leaving now. I’m going to find a way to destroy the demon. And you’re all going to stay out of my head until the link wears off.”

  “If we’re going to vote, put me down for that plan.” Xander limps toward the door, looking as shaky as I am.

  The council members exchange glances, but nobody says anything, at least not out loud.

  When I turn and follow him, to my relief, they let us go.

  Thirty

  By the time we get back to my house, it’s about three in the morning.

  When we walk in, Xander asks in a too-casual tone, “You’ve got a way to get this thing out of me, right?”

  I’d give anything to be able to touch him. I’d love to be able to put my arms around him and hold him close. It kills me that I can’t.

  I shoot him the most confident smile I can summon. “Absolutely. We’ll do it together. We’ve made a damn good team up until now, haven’t we?”

  Xander rubs his face, smearing grime across his cheek, then collapses onto the living room couch. “Unfortunately, this isn’t my area of expertise. You want a suspect chased or a statement taken, I’m happy to help. Demon stuff? That’s your thing. I wouldn’t know where to start.”

  I head purposefully to the kitchen, not wanting to let him know I don’t have a clue where to start either. “First thing we need is something to eat and drink. I’ll fix us something, then we can come up with a plan.”

  I’m almost at the kitchen door when I hear him give a grunt of pain. I glance back to see him wince and put a hand to his head. “No, I’m not doing that,” he mutters, as though to himself. “You may as well shut up. I’m not going to listen to you.”

  A cold chill runs down my spine.