Ignite: A New Adult Urban Fantasy (Spelldrift: Coven of Fire Book 2)

by Sierra Cross

  Only Asher said what must have been on all our minds. “Perhaps she’s planning to force-turn you, like with Callie.”

  The whole car fell silent at the sad memory of our fallen sister. Callie had been mortally wounded in battle and been brought back to “life” by a major transfusion of dark magic. But the kind and courageous girl Liv and I had grown up with was gone.

  Forever.

  From the look of anguish on Liv’s face, I could tell she was still having trouble accepting that fact.

  “Remember, our blades aren’t etched for Caedis,” Matt spoke up, nudging us from despair back to the realm of the practical. He was referring to the runes we had etched onto our knives, swords, and throwing stars that made Nequam turn to dust when stabbed. “If we have to take one down, the witches must lead with fire. Asher and I cover you.”

  “And then we all draw straws for cleanup duty,” Asher muttered.

  My brain had to go and picture us stuffing my would-be kidnapper’s body parts into trash bags. I shuddered violently. Leaving bodies around for Wonts to find was illegal in the magicborn community. We’d have no choice but to somehow dispose of the human skinsuit he left behind.

  Of course, I was getting ahead of myself. A little gross cleanup was nothing compared to the bloodthirsty, living Caedis that might be awaiting us in the cave.

  “Alexandra.” Matt gave my right arm a sharp look. I hadn’t realized it was tapping with nervous tension, hammering out a non-rhythmic beat against the steering wheel. I shrugged. Better than having my magic itch and tingle all over my hands—which used to happen just before a fight. After all these weeks of practicing, my magic was finally obeying me most of the time. Coming only when called. Yet it wasn’t magic but my daggers, snug in my shoulder sheaths, that still gave me the most confidence.

  Matt’s big hand rubbed my upper arm and gently squeezed my shoulder, and the nervous tapping stopped. Cold. It was embarrassing how much power he had over my body…and he had to know it too. I exhaled with a deep sense of peace and calm, and he discreetly withdrew his hand. It was all I could do not to grab it and put it back on me. As always, my chest ached at the loss of his touch, and then and there I knew no part of me wanted Matt to move out. I wanted him to stay by my side, for us to save up and find a place together. A kitchen where we could laugh and cook together. A living room fireplace to cuddle up by. A bedroom…but there was zero point in me telling him what I wanted. He already knew.

  And he’d taken a vow. There was no turning back from it.

  I had to take him as I could get him. As my team-mate and protector, only.

  Those heavy thoughts are what kept me silent as we charged up the long, winding road that led to Caster’s Park. I don’t know what anyone else in the car was thinking about, or whether they’d observed anything happen between me and Matt. Likely I was being paranoid, and conversation had only petered out because they were all preparing inwardly for the battle ahead. But, for whatever reason, it was an awfully quiet last few miles.

  As we entered the park grounds, tiny pricks of dark magic jabbed my skin. Liv and I exchanged a tense look in the mirror. Something was very wrong. Never had I felt so much malevolence at the park—even on the night of the Solstice when the evil tree almost crashed the Demongate.

  The headlights sliced through the darkness as I pulled right up to the edge of the greenway and slammed on the breaks. I put the car in park and leapt out. The rest of the team matched my pace.

  A grotesque sight greeted us. Spilling down from the cave were a dozen Neqs without glamours. Their hunched forms ran jaggedly, like malformed beasts escaping the hunt.

  What the hell?

  The only possible explanation was stunning. These demons hadn’t had time to throw glamours yet. They were fresh from the other side, from the Demon Realm.

  Foundlings.

  Their red eyes glowed through the underbrush. Three gnarled creatures tried to run past the car. Matt threw two stars. The small blades hit their marks. They dusted two of the Neqs and returned to him.

  “Show off.” Asher raised his right hand, revealing a hint of glow from his tattooed arm, and a golden firebolt formed on his fingertips. He aimed for the third Neq and blasted it to dust.

  “Spread out,” Matt yelled, taking tactical lead as usual. He motioned for Liv and me to go to either side of the trail. “There are some in the woods. Asher, take the path.”

  We each went our assigned direction.

  I had my dagger in hand, ready to throw.

  “Use your magic!” Liv, who’d climbed Mt. Everest, was already ahead of me. “It’s so much faster.”

  Easy for her to say. Liv was magically gifted—she didn’t even have to try to make her magic obey her. But I could hardly be upset with her for it since her magic strengthened mine. I called my magic to me, and instantly, two golden fireballs were poised on my fingertips.

  Thick branches slapped my face as I ran at top speed up the hill…right at two sets of glowing eyes. I hurled both fireballs. But the uneven ground beneath my feet made me bobble. One struck its target…but the second went wide. It sparked and sputtered out in the wet grass.

  I threw my arms down, willing the magic to my fingertips again, but it stalled. The Neq was approaching too fast. From the sheath along my rib cage, I retrieved two blades and flipped the handles to grasp them for throwing. As my fingers made contact with the cold steel, my magic twisted like a knot in my solar plexus before leaving my body. A bright green zing of light danced across the blades.

  Whoa. What the hell?

  I stared in confusion. Where’d the demon blast come from? Was another Neq behind me? As the green light hit the runes, they disintegrated, leaving the blade smooth.

  This. Cannot. Be good.

  No time to think. I threw one blade and the Neq in front of me tumbled down. Too late, I heard a ragged breath in my ear. My breath escaped me as a heavy, slimy body slammed me to the ground. So there was another one sneaking up on me. Nausea roiled in my stomach—not just from the dark magic, but from the foul, rotting smell coming off my attacker. Clammy hands violently pinned my arms next to my neck. I clutched my dagger with all my might but I was pinned hard and lying flat on my back, straddled by the large, gooey, milk-white Nequam. It was like being sat on by a giant maggot. One long string of demon saliva hit my face, sizzling on contact. Bile rose in the back of my throat. Adrenaline buzzed in my blood. I bucked my hips, throwing my attacker off-center. I rolled and turned my blade. As our weight shifted, I gave one last thrust and plunged my blade into the demon’s throat. The creature clutched its neck and rolled off me.

  Okay, so my dagger didn’t dust the demon. But it was down and didn’t seem to be standing up anytime soon.

  I’d have to figure the rest out later, because I could see three more sets of eyes coming through the brush.

  “Come on, come on,” I muttered to myself, willing my magic into action. Fire bolts formed on my fingertips, their golden hue reassuring. I charged up the hill, throwing bolts as I sprinted forward. I hit all three Neqs in rapid succession. They ignited on impact and burned to dust like flash paper, the flame threatening nothing except the demon flesh.

  The sounds of battle ringing out to my right were heartening. I heard Matt’s grunts and Asher’s pithy comments as they fought their way up the hill. Liv tended to be a silent fighter. I had to pray that her battle was going as well as the guys’.

  I took the hill, inch by inch. My magic was singing, calling to me. Bolts forming as quickly as I willed them to. I lost count of how many Neqs I slayed by the time I broke through the brush and hit the path.

  Blood was pounding in my ears, and my heart was beating a staccato rhythm when I reached the clearing in front of the cave. As I passed through the wards, I saw Matt and Asher already through, and Liv breaking through the brush. We paused together at the mouth of the cave. I felt the buzz and hum of our wonky coven magic pooling, strengthening with the power of our odd witch-warlock
-guardian coven.

  “Oh, by the way, the seal on the Demongate is failing,” Asher deadpanned.

  We all groan-laughed. I suspected everyone felt as punchy by this point as I did. And the night wasn’t over.

  The green glow coming from inside the cave lit up the night. Grey-green, scaley Nequam tried to make their way out of the cave. But it was like shooting fish in a barrel. We each took turns blasting them as we talked.

  “Okay, so this feels like a videogame,” Liv said. “How do we get in to seal it?”

  “I’ll roll in low.” Matt holstered his blades. “You three, get shoulder to shoulder and blast your way through.” He didn’t wait for a response. He tucked and tumbled through the entrance like a bowling ball. Back on his feet before I could blink. Our blasts rained down in an unrelenting shower of fire, taking out the demons he knocked over and those that followed.

  As we entered the cave, I saw that the Demongate was barely standing. The twisted metal hadn’t been completely righted since the Solstice. Neqs climbed over each other trying get to this side. Matt was throwing blade after blade, dusting the creatures that were threatening to spill through.

  As far as I could see down past the gate, demons filled every inch, like a river threatening to overflow its banks. No way could we fight them and reseal the gate.

  A plan came to me and I executed it without speaking, knowing my coven would get it and join in. I put my hands to my vest and clicked the release for the triangular, concussive spellbeads to release. One or two wouldn’t stop them. I grabbed a big handful, like they were movie popcorn, and started pitching them through the gate.

  “Excellent idea, young witch,” Asher Henry Higginsed me as he did the same.

  Instantly Liv got it and joined in. “Aim for the same spot!”

  Matt looked awkward—he was after all raised to think guardians should never use witch magic—but when I handed him a handful of spellbeads he joined in with remarkable aim. The four of us synced our throws and triangular spellbeads struck simultaneously beyond the gate. The force of the blast shook the earth below our feet and threw us to the ground. A tumble of rocks cascaded down on the other side of the gate.

  Minutes later, the four of us stood in front of the broken veil, pooling our magic. Liv was saying the incantation, repeating it over and over, shaking with effort as the golden filaments wove patches across the gaping holes. If I strained my eyes, I could see the veil knitting together. Matt, a thin sheen of golden magic in his aura, stood behind us as if he was still embarrassed that he possessed even this much of the ability. Asher acted as the foundation for the power to flow between us. Though he wore a cool expression, sweat was beading on his brow. My magic, for once, was flowing freely, but I sensed I was scraping the bottom of my reserve.

  Liv grunted as the last of the holes was repaired.

  “Chewing gum and duct tape,” Asher scoffed as he regarded the work we’d just done. “This won’t hold long.”

  “I see the original pattern of the ward,” Liv said, shaking her head. “But I can’t reproduce it.”

  “And the metal gate itself needs repair,” Matt added.

  A wave of fatigue hit me. I had nothing left and they had no ideas anyway… “Well, it’ll hold for tonight, yeah?”

  Asher nodded in tentative agreement. “We’ll need to ask around the community for advice in the morning. This isn’t my area of expertise.”

  “Let’s clean this place up before we leave.” Matt looked around the cave. Charred walls, weapons strewn, and bits of demon garments made the place look like we’d hosted one hell of a party. And then it hit me. Why didn’t those Nequam dust when I stabbed them? Where did that neon green light come from?

  “You okay?” Matt put his hand on the small of my back and looked at me with concern.

  Ugh, I hated the way he seemed to be in tune with my feelings. Actually, I was lying. I loved it—and that was the problem. We fit together in every way. Emotionally we were bound together, but not in an overwhelming way. And we never could be.

  “Yeah, fine.” I shrugged him off. “I just need to go find a couple of daggers I lost out there.”

  “Really, Alix?” Asher gave me his pre-lecture look. “First rule of magical weaponry—”

  “Boomerang spell,” I cut him off before he could get all pissy. “I was a little busy in the heat of the battle and all.”

  “It’s a retrieval spell.” He corrected me. “And it is precisely because of the heat of the battle…”

  I didn’t hear the end of his sentence because I was out the cave entrance and through the wards.

  I stomped through the underbrush trying to retrace my steps. The weak excuse for a Seattle sun was peaking over the horizon, but it was still too dark to see in the dense foliage. I went to pull out my phone to use the light and stopped. Instead, I closed my eyes and said, “Lux pythonissam,” as I snapped my fingers. A tiny white glowing ball manifests hovering just over my right shoulder. Witchlight was mine to command! Asher’d be so proud.

  Huh, that flattop boulder looked familiar. I was pretty sure I had a bruise on my left thigh from running into it earlier. There, in the leaves next to the rock, was a puddle of black ooze that reeked of rotting flesh. My dagger was lying next to the inky mess, its blade covered in thick dark liquid. Demon blood.

  I’d never seen Neq blood before and I shouldn’t be seeing it now. The Neqs should have poofed—blood and all. Did the mysterious green light screw that up? I spun around and saw my other blade, also covered in black goo, but the Nequam’s bodies were nowhere to be found. As I walked back toward my friends, a long, slow sigh of relief escaped me. Maybe whatever weird thing happened to my blades just delayed their dusting? That had to be it, I decided. What other explanation could there be?

  That question settled inside me like a knot in my gut.

  CHAPTER TWO

  “I t’s not that simple, luv.” Asher stifled a yawn and reached out to pour himself his eleventh cup of tea from the pot on the coffee table tray.

  “Why not, for God’s sake?” Liv appeared to be exhorting the ceiling as she didn’t bother to shift from her reclined position. “Why can’t we just call up the Witches’ Assembly and say, ‘little assist please?’ That’s what they told us to do, ask for help.”

  Fire crackled in the fireplace in the cozy corner of Asher’s lab, where Liv and Asher were arguing from opposite ends of the couch. Matt, ignoring the empty armchairs, sat on the Oriental rug in front of the fireplace. I’d commandeered the hunter green leather loveseat Asher recently added to the décor. The four hours of sleep I got hadn’t given me enough strength to hold myself upright.

  “You aren’t really so naive as to believe that’s what they meant?” Asher scoffed with an exaggerated jerk of his head. His long dark sideswept bangs fell over his left eye. “Calling us a ‘charming assortment of characters’ was not a compliment. It was their way of putting us on notice.”

  “I agree.” Given his tone, I felt a bit reluctant to side with Asher over Liv. But I recalled all too well every word of our special meeting with the Witches’ Assembly. We’d been called in a week earlier, in front of two dozen posh, well-coiffed women, more like a glorified homeowners association than a functioning ruling body. They’d been most concerned with—of all things—budget. Apparently, they’d been paying freelance rates for the last ten years to have witches from other Demongates fly in, at no small expense, to maintain the wards at the cave on a quarterly schedule. Since we’d established our coven’s bond—and they’d known the moment that happened, they informed us, as it had sent a ripple through what they called the “witches’ bond”—it was wasteful to continue spending that money. They felt it was time those resources were returned to the community, and they wanted us to know that from now on we were on our own. The contract had been cancelled. Even though they saw us as a working coven, they made it clear by implication they found our current membership just this side of reprehensible. Though they no
dded along as we told the story, they didn’t seem to believe that we’d destroyed the Malum Osmium—they clung to their outdated notion that the evil tree was a myth. They’d also heard, from a little bird, that I had purchased guardian blades and were none too pleased about it. They seemed to have strong opinions on all the things that mattered the least in the grand scheme of things. And nothing to contribute to the fight.

  “I just don’t see how they could help us,” I admitted. “I don’t think they even want to, honestly.”

  Liv rubbed her eyes. “Then what’s the point of even having a Witches’ Assembly?”

  “Nothing, luv.” Asher leaned in and spoke slowly. “Other than it keeps a bunch of tiresome rich ladies busy on Thursday nights. Our Demongate is low on everybody’s priority list.”

  “Asher’s right,” Matt spoke up. “And they figure the warlocks will take care of any stray Neqs that get through. But we’re working pretty well as a coven. Getting stronger every day. We don’t want the Assembly micromanaging us.”

  That comment surprised me. Normally he was all about doing things by the book.

  “Besides, the first thing they’d do is make Alix get rid of her daggers.” He knew exactly where my soft spot was.

  “Okay, good point.” Liv knew I couldn’t be pried from my battle gear. She might not get it, but she was a true friend. “Then how can we figure out how to rebuild the ward ourselves?”

  A thought occurred to me. “You’re a powerful warlock.” I batted my eyes at Asher. “I bet you know demon-slaying spells that are tons harder than fixing some broken seal. Can’t you fix it?”

  “Apples and oranges. No, more like apples and elephants.” Asher stared down at his teacup grimly. “Common wards, no problem. Wards between realms? Totally different story. I might be able to stitch them back up in a pinch, but rebuilding them? I think it’s time to pay a visit to Marley. As much as I hate to admit it, that old crone is our best bet.”