Dark Gift

by Kim Richardson

  He froze in place, his hands going to his crotch, and then he went down with a grunt.

  I felt a shift in the air behind me and I whirled, ready. Bald guy was back.

  I sneered. “You just don’t give up. Do you?”

  Baldy growled and swung his blade savagely at me. I threw myself back—but not fast enough. I yelped as the blade sliced across my thigh, ripping through my jeans and flesh. Blood colored my jeans as I stood there, surprised at how fast he was. And then I was even more surprised as his fist connected with my jaw. My knees twisted and I fell.

  Black spots marred my vision and I blinked, trying to shake off the dizziness as I tasted the blood in my mouth.

  Baldy let out a breathy laugh. “You’re nothing special. I expected better.”

  I spat the blood from my mouth. “And I expected you to have hair, but we don’t always get what we want,” I said, panting.

  Someone was going to die, but it wasn’t going to be me.

  Baldy came back charging, and so did the tall chick. Great.

  The bald dude reached me first, his confidence high but his strikes falling short. I blocked a jab and twisted, sending a reverse punch with my left fist right into his gut. He bent forward, and I smashed my knee into his face.

  I felt him slop to the floor, but my eyes were pinned on the approaching blonde.

  “I’m going to kill you, bitch,” she snarled, her features warping, which removed any delicate traits and made her look very male and angry.

  I had to admit it was weird. It was like fighting different versions of me.

  I met her snarl with my own toothy, aggressive grin. “You’re going down, Barbie.”

  Barbie lunged with a punch so swift most men’s heads would have spun around. But I wasn’t most men.

  I ducked and dodged and caught her arm in one hand, locking it into a hold I knew was bone-snapping. As blondie’s face twisted with pain, I drove my knee up into the side of her head. She groaned as I let go of her arm and came at her again with my hunting knife.

  But she beat me to it.

  Blondie sidestepped and whirled, driving her soul blade down.

  I cried out as a stabbing feeling went through my upper back, through my jacket to my skin, sharp and hot. The bitch had stabbed me. She was good. I was seriously impressed.

  Still, the idiot had left her blade in my back. Grimacing in pain, I leapt forward and head-butted the tall blonde girl.

  “Ow, ow, ow,” I hissed, holding my head as it vibrated all the way to the insides of my ears. I heard a grunt and she jerked back and fell on her ass in a very ugly fall.

  Wincing, I sheathed my hunting knife, reached behind my back, and yanked the soul blade from my left shoulder blade. I hissed through my clenched teeth. Warm liquid trickled down to my lower back. I just raised my shoulder and the wound flamed like I’d put a lighter to it. It would need stitches before it could heal properly.

  The weight of her soul blade felt good in my hand. Damn, I missed these.

  Wiping the blood from the corners of my mouth, I peered down at the blonde and said, “Thanks for the soul blade—”

  A dark shadow approached like a rushing wind, and a hand backhanded me without breaking momentum. I stumbled back and caught myself before I fell. Turning, I looked up to find the other Unmarked female standing before me, legs planted and bent, like a tiny sumo wrestler.

  “Ooooh,” I grinned. “Barbie was good, but you’re way better.”

  Now that I looked at her, I could see pretty features over her tanned face. Her large green eyes were lined heavily with black kohl. She stood with both hands gripping curved, double sided blades. A dark ragged mane fell about her pretty heart-like face, set in an expression of anger. In her black leather gear, she had that Goth with a bit of sadomasochistic vibe going. And she actually pulled it off quite well. She looked dangerous and very sexy.

  “Aren’t you going to use your whip?” I asked, cocking my hip.

  Her lovely face creased in confusion. “I don’t have a whip.”

  “No way,” I said, looking at her outfit, genuinely surprised. “Could have fooled me.”

  Goth-girl smiled without showing any teeth. And then she shot forward, twirling her daggers like batons. I ducked and spun, landing my fist on the side of her head. Expression hard, the small woman fell back into a shelf, and I landed a kick square in her middle to push the air from her and maybe bruise a couple of ribs.

  “Haven’t you guys had enough,” I shouted, pulling away. “You just don’t get it. Do you? Leave. Or I will kill you.” I didn’t want to, but if they didn’t stop, I’d have no other choice.

  Goth-girl pushed herself up from the shelves slowly as she bared her teeth, her face only inches from mine.

  “Don’t,” I urged Goth-girl. “You don’t have to do this.”

  “Enough already! Move!” I heard Ethan shout and Goth-girl leapt away from the shelves and me.

  At first I thought Ethan was going to tackle me or something. That was until I saw the big ball of black energy in his hand.

  Oh. Shit. That was bad.

  23

  There it was, the dark magic he’d said they had that I didn’t. Damn. It was seriously impressive, even though he was going to kill me with it.

  Ethan stood in the shadowed darkness between me and the opened back door, the glint of madness flashing in his eyes. He held his ball of dark magic, which looked very similar to the one Isobel, the fae queen of the dark court used on me.

  In that moment, all I focused on was that evil grin he gave me. It was just that—pure evil. Then he twisted his body and arm like a baseball pitcher and hurled it at me.

  When there’s a ball of dark magic pointed at you, you’ve got two options: either move stupid-fast or freeze and hope you get lucky and they miss. Given that I didn’t believe in luck, I went with the first option.

  I dove, throwing myself on the ground.

  Pain exploded from my right thigh, reverberating all the way to my head and filling my entire body as it burned through me like a current of electricity. Light exploded behind my eyes and I dropped to my hands and knees. Ethan had hit me with dark magic. And my built-in magic resistance could do nothing. I couldn’t fight this.

  My thoughts of escape burned along with my body as I tried to get up, but the pain was too intense. My limbs were weak and felt like Jell-O. A second burst of black energy and pain drove a scream from me. Through my blurred vision, I dimly saw Ethan coming towards me.

  How had it gone wrong so quickly? Trembling, I gasped as I pulled myself forward on my knees, clutching my leg. As I shook the stars from my vision, I pushed forward. My hair swung into my eyes, and I floundered in my mind, trying to remember a curse or a spell, anything. But it was too late. I had nothing.

  “You’re finished,” said Ethan as he walked calmly towards me.

  The other Unmarked stood watching, their faces peering down at me and excitement flashing in their eyes as they anticipated Ethan frying my ass with his dark magic.

  “It’s over,” he stated. “You were never going to win this. For the strong to survive... the weak must die.”

  “Ethan, just kill her, already,” the tall blonde shouted. “We need to get out of here. We stick to the plan. Remember? The plan was to kill her and stage this whole thing to appear like she was the murderer. You’re going off script right now.”

  “Patience, Hannah,” said Ethan, throwing her a dirty look. “I want to see how much she can take before it finally kills her. You all heard her. She thinks she’s unbeatable and clearly she isn’t. She’s not. She’s weak. I want her to suffer. I want to be the last thing she sees before the light goes out of her eyes.”

  Bastard. “I’m going to kill you,” I rasped, my free hand clawing at the ground. My face twisted with rage and anguish.

  Ethan smiled at me. “You’re going down for a very long nap... the forever kind.”

  I don’t think so. My fear of dying spiked sweet adre
naline in me and through my limbs. My pain lost in my fury, I spun, springing to my feet with the soul blade in my hand. I pushed all my strength through me and flung the blade. It flew out of my hand, a blur of silver—

  “Ignitar de ut!” shouted Ethan, waving his hands, and a sheet of semi-transparent dark haze rose before him. The blade hit the protection shield like it had hit a solid concrete wall and fell at his feet.

  My lips parted as the hair on my neck prickled, and a shudder rose through me. How could I defeat such magic? Such power?

  Ethan’s grin widened at the shock he saw on my face. “You liked that. Didn’t you?” He was powerful and determined, his stance firm with his hands moving confidently. “I’ve got lots more to show you.”

  “Please, keep your pants on,” I wheezed, gasping for breath. Panic rose as the pain from his first curse still burned through me, eating away at my strength. I thought of the archdemon’s gift and my gut clenched. If only I’d accepted... But it was too late for that.

  “Good,” Ethan panted, as though that bit of magic took some effort and energy from him. “I see it now. Your fear. You know you’re going to die and there’s nothing you can do to stop it. Your miserable little sidekick demon rat isn’t here to help you. You’re all alone.” Lips curled up almost in a smile, his eyes widened in victory. “And you’re going to die alone.”

  Eyes tearing, I blinked at Ethan, struggling to focus. He pulled back, his lips muttering in Latin, with his hands splayed out as he readied himself for the next curse. The one that would finish me.

  A smile of satisfaction blossomed over Ethan’s face. “In tum acio dente,” he shouted, and a ball of black energy appeared in his outstretched hand.

  I am not going to die. Especially not at the hands of these mutant freaks.

  Heart pounding wildly in my chest, I let out a wordless scream that shattered through the department store as I scrambled to my feet. And then I was running. My fear, the spike in energy, pushed my legs hard and as fast as they would go towards the door. If I wanted to live, I needed to get the hell out of here before Ethan barbequed my ass.

  Instinct drove me, and I dove to escape his curse, spinning to see it hit the floor with a hissing sound. I turned, my eyes widening at the sight of a putrid-looking, black bubbling mass simmering evilly. That mess could have been me.

  “She’s getting away!” shouted the bald Unmarked. “Kill her!”

  The look of savage eagerness on Ethan’s face made me want to vomit. The sicko was enjoying this. “In tum acio dente.” He spoke in slow, deliberate syllables, chilling me. And then he flung another black energy ball at me.

  Ah. Hell.

  My boots slipped, and I scrambled on all fours away from the glowing ball of dark magic, which probably saved my life. I felt the energy ball whoosh over my head and hit the shelves next to me where it exploded. Losing my footing, I pitched head first to plow into something cold, soft, and wet. The smell of blood was overwhelming. Blinking the sticky wetness from my eyelashes, I stared at the dead half-breed, my face inches from my name carved into his chest.

  I retched at the stench, knowing that I was dripping in the dead guy’s blood and guts, and at the feeling of wetness and clumps that I didn’t want to think about that were stuck to my face. That was just nasty.

  Ethan’s laughter sent a wave of hot fury in my limbs. I gritted my teeth. I hated the bastard.

  “In tum acio dente!” Ethan shouted again.

  Rolling, I reached out and pulled the dead half-breed over me like a shield. A blast shook me, and felt myself tense. The smell of sulfur was everywhere, like I’d bathed in it. But there was no pain, just the weight of the dead guy disappearing, my hands still in the air holding chunks of flesh and clothing of what used to be his shoulders. With a sudden puff of air, I was showered in the remnants of what used to be the half-breed.

  Boots scraped the floor. “Very resourceful,” I heard Ethan say, and I whirled around on my hands and knees. Ethan smiled, his fingers stirring as another ball of dark magic waited in his hand. “I like it.” His smile was ferocious. “Beg for your life,” he demanded, a feverish gleam in his eyes, “and I’ll give you a quick death.”

  “How bout I give you the finger,” I smiled defiantly, bringing up my finger. He was truly a sicko, enjoying the sight of me suffering. Bile rose in the back of my throat at the thought of the kind of sick, demented torture he’d inflicted on the half-breeds.

  “You stupid bitch,” Ethan said in disdain and then slapped me. Stars exploded behind my eyes.

  “Bite me, you candy-ass!” I shouted, mouth full of blood, and I nearly choked.

  A snarl escaped Ethan as he hurled his ball of dark magic.

  There was nowhere to go this time, nothing to hide under.

  My muscles clenched as I took the ball square in the chest.

  I hit the ground and flipped over. My head whacked against the hard floor. My mind went blank at the pain, probably because it was being fried. There was nothing else in the world but that excruciating, white-hot pain. Gallons of it. The curse seeped through my body, through my pores. It was like I was being burned from the inside out. My body burned, bones cracked, and I howled in agony as my insides felt like they were liquefying. I was breaking apart, piece by piece.

  Gritting my teeth, I somehow managed to dig up the strength to extend my hands on the ground and prop myself on my elbows. I crawled away in shuffling half-crawls, my mind almost drowning in pain. Oh, God, it hurt.

  Through the whistling in my ears I could hear them laughing. All of them. They were enjoying this. I was a show.

  Agony exploded in my side and I rolled over to see Ethan standing before me. His eyes gleamed with the same sort of crazy fury I had seen before. His mouth was stretched in a feral grin, and at that moment he truly looked like a demon.

  I staggered to my hands and knees, and he brought up his leg and kicked me in the ribs. I heard something crack as I rolled. I coughed, spitting out blood on the floor. How could I heal from this? My thoughts were rambling now, panic making them scurry around in my head like a frightened cat. This was bad. I needed focus. I needed to concentrate. I needed a plan to save my ass. But I found none. My body was broken, and whatever dark magic Ethan had used on me, I wasn’t healing from it.

  “Just kill her, Ethan,” shouted Barbie again, the irritation in her voice sounding like she was going to be late for a date.

  “Hannah’s right,” came a male’s voice. “Just do it. Or I will.”

  “Rowyn is mine,” snarled Ethan. “I get to kill her. Not you.”

  “Fine,” said the same voice. “Then do it.”

  No. No. NO. Get up, Rowyn. Get up!

  A shadow moved over me and I looked up to see a grinning Ethan.

  Blinking fast, I choked down another surge of panic. I couldn’t die like this. Not now.

  “It will never work,” I whispered, my lungs feeling like they were on fire. I took a breath, noticing my sight graying at the edges. I was slipping. I couldn’t stop. I was dying.

  “It has already started,” said Ethan. Wide-eyed, I fell back, shaking as ugly words I didn’t understand fell from him. Fear iced through me when another ball of dark energy coiled into his hand.

  I braced myself, my gut clenching. This was it. This was how I was going to die.

  I felt a light inside myself ignite. Strength. My will. Strength returning. I was healing!

  I tried to make my broken body respond, to get to my feet, to run away. If only I could get through that door, to my car, I would live.

  And then Ethan’s dark curse hit me.

  I barely felt the pain this time. For all the agony and the heartache, I wasn’t ready to go yet. But I couldn’t stop it. There was just nothing left to hold me together.

  And a single thought popped into my head. Ethan had been right. I was going to die alone.

  And I let the darkness take me.

  24

  When my eyes finally opened, I had
a moment of pure panic.

  I was in a bed, a king-size one with feathered-pillows and a dark gray duvet cover. I didn’t recognize the walls or the painting hanging on one of them. There was a small wooden chest with three drawers and the clock on it said it was eleven. From the dim light coming into the only window to my left, I knew it must be late in the evening. A bowl with water and a small cloth rested on a small night table to my right. The room smelled of old wood and the musk from the large antique rug. This was definitely not my place. I couldn’t afford a rug, let alone an antique one.

  The smells, the bed, I was not in my apartment or my grandmother’s house. My heart pounded in my chest as I propped myself up. Where the hell was I?

  The last thing I remember was Ethan’s wicked grin as he hurled a ball of black energy at me. The bastard. But how had I survived such fierce and deadly dark magic? How did I end up here?

  The comforter shifted and an added weight pressed into the bed. Then something sprang onto my chest. When two large blue eyes blinked into my face, only then did I let out my breath.

  “Tyrius?” I croaked. My voice was harsh and my throat was raw like I’d swallowed a few soul blades. Relieved to see my friend, I let myself relax, just a little.

  “Damn, woman!” shouted the Siamese cat as he sat back on my chest, his ears swiveling around his head. “You had me scared to death! What possessed you to not call for backup!” His tail slashed behind him. “We’re supposed to be partners. Partners! How am I supposed to save your crazy-ass if I don’t know you’re in trouble!”

  I swallowed, trying hard not to smile at the concern in his voice. I was truly blessed to have such a fierce kitty as my best friend. “By the time,” I swallowed, my voice strained, and then I tried again. “By the time I got there, it was already too late to call you.”

  My face twisted as the images started to flare up in my mind. Images and memories started to pour in. My pulse pounded, making my face hot. The memory of Ethan and his dark magic, of him trying to kill me and pin those half-breeds’ murders on me rose up making my head spin. A cold feeling slipped down my spine at the intense, agonizing, white-hot pain of being hit by dark magic—and the fear that I couldn’t stop it.