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

by Sierra Cross

  The others made noises of assent. That’s when I realized we were moving on. I took too long to launch into my confession. It wasn’t exactly too late; I could still jump in and explain that it was my Neqs that weren’t dusted. That a green blast erased the runes, a blast that might have come from me.

  But I couldn’t seem to bring myself to open my mouth.

  We stopped for a coffee run halfway between downtown and Marley’s Edmonds property. Liv and I left the guys in the car and stood in the Starbucks line inside of a grocery store.

  “Wasn’t it weird to see those two quaking in their boots?” Liv asked with a wry grin while we waited for our lattes. “I mean, I always assumed Asher had ice in his veins. And Matt’s practically a superhero.” The way she said it, I could feel how much she looked up to Asher. She didn’t just have a crush on him; she idolized him as a teacher. As for Matt, she spoke of him like he wasn’t in the realm of people to crush on.

  Because she was much smarter than me.

  “Guess they finally found something in common.” I gathered a stack of napkins. “Fidei phobia.”

  Liv’s gorgeous face scrunched up with laughter. Then she leaned in conspiratorially. “I kissed him.”

  “Asher?”

  She gave me a look like, who else? “This morning in his lab, while you and Matt were still asleep. And he kissed me back. Thank God.”

  “Damn. You go girl.” I reached out for a high five, but I couldn’t help feeling the tiniest drop of concern for my friend. Asher was a playboy. On the other hand, Liv was easily bored herself, and she knew what she was getting into.

  At least she had a crush she could kiss...not one who’d taken a solemn vow.

  “It got kinda hot and heavy,“ Liv confessed, pretending to fan herself. “Till I tried to pull his shirt off.” Her blue eyes darting to the right at the memory. “He slapped my hand away—playfully, but still. Who’d have thought the Brit had a modest side?” She shook her head in awe and wonder at the mystery that was Asher.

  “Um, wow, yeah, who knew?” I looked away, hoping she couldn’t see me blush.

  Because Asher’s reticence was no mystery to me.

  That night, almost two weeks ago now, I’d lost my phone and it took me an hour to realize I’d forgotten it in Asher’s cozy corner after our coven’s magic lesson. I marched back in expecting it to be empty, but heard Asher cursing a blue streak.

  “Dude, who are you swearing at?” I joked.

  Then I saw him, hunched over in pain in front of the coffee table. As soon as he saw me he straightened up, startled.

  “Oh, Alix, you missed me and came back to have wild, raucous sex with me.” Fluttering his long lashes over his huge grey eyes.

  I was about to tell him how that was never gonna happen when I realized he was deflecting. “You want to tell me what’s going on?”

  “I just ran into the table.” He tried to brush me off, but his arm was draped over his stomach like he was hiding something. “Smarts.”

  I walked up and lifted the edge of his shirt. Covering the taut lean muscles of his stomach was a squall of fresh, angry tattoos.

  “You’re a glutton for punishment,” I teased. “Getting these all at once.”

  He took a breath like he was about to say something but let it pass.

  “And these are different than all your others.” Most of Asher’s tattoos were bold tribal designs. These were rounder, more flowing. “I think they’re really pretty.”

  “Great, pretty.” He pulled his shirt back from me like he wanted to hide them and walked to the other side of the table.

  “Pretty is not an insult.”

  “It is to a warlock.”

  “Well, if you didn’t want them, then why’d you get them?” I asked, confused.

  He seemed locked in debate with himself before answering. “I got them for you.”

  “Yeah, so not following.”

  “So you could keep your little guardian friend,” he said trying to play it off, but I heard the genuine emotion in his voice. “And so we could keep this coven.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “The only way our coven is complete is with the four of us.” He shook his head, like he didn’t want to say it out loud, but did anyway. “These are witches’ tattoos, hence the pretty,” he said mockingly. “The Witches Assembly’ll think they enhance my magic enough to complete the circle. It’s the only way to keep them from knowing the truth. What makes our coven whole is Matt’s witch’s magic.”

  I froze. It was the first time anyone had said it out loud. That Matt was a guardian with witch’s magic. It was a truth he kept buried, even from himself. I was relieved when Asher made me swear I wouldn’t tell Matt what he had done. No way was Matt ready to face that part of himself.

  Our fledging coven had so many secrets.

  “Earth to Alix?” Liv waved her hand in front of my face. Her other hand held a to-go tray packed with four lattes. “Back to the fight.”

  We were getting close to Marley’s and I was bracing for ward impact. I started to sweat a little, remembering how rough it was the first time we dared pay her a visit—as if my vehicle had suddenly turned into a roller coaster car on the meanest, vomitiest coaster of all time. And that was when it was just Matt and me.

  I wondered aloud if my in would be strong enough to get my whole coven through.

  “It’ll be fine,” Matt assured me. “Painful, but fine.”

  “Typical guardian thing to say.” Asher rolled his eyes, and I couldn’t help but agree.

  The road turned, and we were almost on her property—but still I sensed nothing. No prickles on the skin, no virtual napalm to accelerate through.

  Through the rearview mirror, Matt and I exchanged a knowing look. I could practically smell the adrenaline rise in his body.

  “What’s wrong?” Liv asked.

  “The wards are down.” Matt’s voice was grim.

  “Impossible.” Asher wasn’t the slightest bit rattled. “Remember, people, this is Marley. She’s got over a hundred thousand invested in wards. They can’t have failed. She bought Wont digital redundant security systems.”

  We drove through the thickly forested band that surrounded her property, all at heightened alert. Except Asher.

  “If we’re not feeling the wards,” he proclaimed, folding his lean arms across his chest, “then it’s obviously because Marley has decided she wants us to come in. We’re talking about the most powerful witch in—”

  As we pulled into the clearing, Matt slammed on the brakes to avoid a goat that was wandering loose. Chickens were pecking at the edge of the property. There was an eerie stillness in the air. It was like all the animals wanted to be as far away from the house as possible. Small plumes of grey smoke rose from different parts of the property. As I followed the plumes to the ground, I saw that the smoke was rising from the bodies of Marley’s acolytes.

  CHAPTER THREE

  I hopped out of the car and tore off toward the closest fallen acolyte. Matt was calling after me to stop, then running at my heels, his daggers in hand. Liv and Asher followed. I jumped over the low fence onto the rich peat moss soil, my feet sinking as I hurried to the young woman. To help her, I told myself. The smell of sulfur and burning hair gagged me as I got close. Fighting the wave of nausea, I bent and turned her body. Deadweight in my hands. Glassy eyes stared up at me from a half-charred peaches and cream face, framed by looping strawberry blond curls. I gasped.

  I remember you.

  It was the young girl we’d met when we were last here. She’d been so full of wholesome vitality. Full of joy. Tears stung my eyes as I commanded my breakfast to stay in my stomach. I heard Matt come up behind me and felt his large hand support the small of my back, steadying me. He murmured wordless sounds of comfort. I crushed myself against him, squeezing my eyes shut trying to erase the horror of what I’d just seen. Knowing she was just one of many who’d been murdered.

  “Whoever did this ha
s cleared out.” Matt scanned the property without releasing our connection. It hit me, if we’d showed up any earlier we all could’ve been victims too. I’d forced us to rush in without securing the location. Extracting myself from Matt’s comfort, I chastised myself. I needed to be smarter, to anticipate these dangers. I couldn’t keep putting my coven at risk.

  “Jesus Christ.” Asher breathed the words with sudden panic. “Marley!” He bolted for the cottage. I didn’t know he could move so fast.

  When Liv, Matt, and I entered the cottage, Asher was on the floor next to Marley’s lifeless body. Cradling her motionless head in his lap, he rocked her back and forth. “No, no, no,” he mumbled, over and over again. A wild expression on his face. Marley’s beautiful face stared up at us. Dark eyes open, long black hair sprawling around her head like a swimming mermaid’s. Matt leaned down, looking like he was going to check her pulse.

  “Don’t you touch her!” Asher threw his arm forward, warlock fire on his fingertips.

  As he turned to fend off Matt’s imagined transgression, Marley’s body rolled. Her arm slipped from Asher’s grasp and gently thudded on the ground. We all stared at her right hand. It was burned so badly her fingers had fused together. And then I saw the gaping hole through her midsection.

  A bloodless death blow, edges cauterized by dark magic.

  “Nobody touch her.” Asher’s angry voice broke with pain.

  Matt raised his hands in a gentle surrender and stepped back, giving Asher space. “It’s okay, buddy.”

  But Asher was far from okay. He buried his face in Marley’s raven hair, mumbling words beyond my range of hearing. With the way he spoke about Marley, I had no idea she meant so much to him. Clearly Liv hadn’t either. She fiddled with the cuff of her jacket, looking like she wished she could disappear. But it was Matt’s expression that made my heart shatter. A remembered pain and grief, all too fresh, lurked in his eyes. He was shaking with the effort not to show it.

  After what seemed like eons, as if his madness has passed, Asher sat up and set Marley gently back on the floor. With utmost tenderness, he closed her eyes with his fingertips. Liv gazed down at him, helpless pain in her eyes. As he stood, I watched him re-compose into the man I knew. “Matt, call the Council Suprema,” he said in a calm voice. “They’ll assemble a team. Liv, do a discovery spell, check for survivors. We’re in this room, so here we’ll stay. No one touches anything else.” He pointedly avoided making eye contact with me as he crossed his long graceful arms and leaned against the doorjamb, no tension visible in his limbs, no pain apparent on his face. “Now, we wait.”

  Matt busied himself with his phone, uncharacteristically taking orders from Asher without complaint.

  Liv closed her eyes and began chanting a spell under her breath as she spun in a slow circle. She shook her head. Clearly she wasn’t surprised that there were no survivors. I just stood there, the magical runt. No one expecting anything from me.

  Now was not the time to feel sorry for myself.

  I mimicked Asher and leaned on the opposite side of the doorway. Other than some crushed plantings in the herb garden and a downed fence in the paddock outside, nothing had been disturbed. Nothing. Marley’s living room was neat as a pin—low fire still crackling in the fireplace, tea in a fine china cup undisturbed on an end table. The dried herbs hung in straight lines in front of the hand-painted tiles depicting a series of witch herbs. Every canned vegetable, every jar of jam, remained in perfect order on the shelves. The only thing amiss was the fresh dirt tracked across the floors. Marley would have hated that, I thought with a pang. Remembering the acolyte telling me last time we were here how much she appreciated clean floors.

  My eyes wandered to the oak bookshelves crammed with countless leather bound volumes stashed this way and that. In between the books were knickknacks—decorative teapots and candles and other small objects that would have only had value to her. A glass bowl with scalloped edges caught my eye. In it shone half a dozen small iridescent stones in pale pastel shades. Something told me I needed a closer look.

  “Witch!” Asher ordered. “No touching.”

  “But what are these?” I gestured toward the stones.

  His gaze landed on the bowl and he took a step closer as if drawn to it himself. Then he hesitated. Without taking his eyes off the bowl, he asked, “One in particular calls to you, correct?”

  He was right. A lavender stone twinkled up at me from the middle of the pack. My fingers wanted to touch it. But Asher’s warning kept my hands by my side.

  “Go ahead,” he said, shrugging. “Pick it up.”

  “You said no touching.”

  “It’s a memory stone. If you’re drawn to it, Marley must have left if for you.” As he spoke, he used his gloved fingers to scoop up an orange stone that had no appeal to me. He tucked it into his pocket and motioned for me to pick up the lavender one.

  As soon as my fingers made contact with its smooth cold surface, I felt a whoosh in my brain. My vision jerked away from this room and zipped through a cascade of shifting images, like slides in a carousel. Then the cascade of images slowed and I ended up in the magic shop in the Spelldrift.

  At the cash register, a teenage girl with spiky red hair hummed along to the radio as she pinned price stickers onto those cheap protection charms that magical tourists loved.

  Charice. The teenage girl was Charice, ten years ago.

  At the sound of Marley’s voice, I turned away from young Charice to the center of the room where the older witch stood talking to a kid. A girl with long dark hair. It was me. My angry, lost tween self.

  The next thing I knew I had fast-framed several minutes forward and Marley and I were alone in a small back room. A wall of white candles burned brightly behind me.

  “You will grow to be a powerful witch one day.” Marley’s eyes were vibrant, her eyes full of concern. She had my hand in hers. “I wish I could be there to shepherd you through what you need to learn. But that is not our destiny.”

  I knew I was seeing the day Marley put a binding spell over my magic, keeping me from accessing it. But why wouldn’t Marley have shown me this memory stone when I came here weeks ago, demanding answers? What was the point of seeing it now, when I already knew what happened?

  “I see so much good in you. But I also see the dark path you must walk before you find it in yourself.” She squeezed my arm gently to emphasize her point. “Learn to trust yourself. Learn to trust your coven. No worthwhile journey happens without a leap of faith.”

  Kid-me scowled. “I don’t get what trust has to do with learning magic. I thought you were going to give me lessons.”

  “I’m going to give you something you need much more than magic lessons.” She let go of my arm and poured salt in a circle around me. “Know I’m doing this to protect you. To protect the future.”

  “Wait, what are you doing?” Tween me looked confused, then suspicious as Marley lit a red candle and dripped the hot wax on the ring that encircled me.

  Almost as an afterthought she added, “There is a quality to your magic that is quite unusual.” Marley tilted her head and looked at me quizzically. And then the answer came to her. “You have the dominion gene. It must have been passed down in your bloodline. A dangerous and powerful gift. It offers a way to borrow powers from others. But it also allows those others to manipulate you…until you learn to control it.”

  The thought of being manipulated by others set off warning bells in my mind. I made a mental note to research “dominion gene.”

  The magic shop faded and once again images cycled in front of my brain. I was back in the present, in Marley’s hallway with more questions than answers.

  I looked over to Asher to ask him about what I’d just seen, but he was too lost in grief.

  I stole another glance at Marley’s motionless body. Her bronze skin still had a glow to it and now that Asher had closed her eyes, her expression looked serene. The thick waves of hair that surrounded her head and
neck almost seemed to shine. Wait. There really was something shining in her hair.

  I zeroed in on her neck. I hadn’t seen it at first, but the bronze chain that she always wore was broken and tangled in her dark locks. Though it had been tucked in her shirt when I’d met her, I knew there had been an amulet on the necklace—I’d seen the glow from behind the fabric of her top. I marched over to look.

  “What about ‘touch nothing’ was confusing to you, Alix?” Asher said my name with a cruel bite to it.

  I ignored his pain-induced tone. “Her amulet’s missing.”

  “What?” Asher joined me, gently probing her hair and under her body.

  Matt leaned in and gently took the chain from Asher. “This style of chain is so familiar. The metalwork looks archaic...I’ve seen it somewhere before…” He let the weight of the unique hammered bronze chain thread through his fingers, brows furrowed.

  But whatever the amulet was—and whatever memory Matt was trying to conjure—was interrupted by a sudden crunch of tires on gravel.

  High heels clicked up the front porch steps. “What’s happened, what the hell’s happened?” At the sound of screaming, I glanced up to see a young woman run into the room. It was Charice, the witch from the magic shop in the Spelldrift. Her red hair flew as she lunged toward Marley’s fallen body. “Get away from her! What did you do?”

  Asher grabbed the witch’s shaking shoulders and pulled her into a strong embrace, whispering, “She’s gone.” Over and over. Slowly the witch calmed and looked at Asher with questioning eyes.

  “She was dead when we got here,” he said.

  “Someone tripped the alarm,” Charice sobbed. “I got here as soon as I could, I tried—”

  “She was dead the moment they broke in,” Asher said in a gentle voice. “There was nothing you could have done.” His gaze narrowed. “What do you mean, the alarm tripped?”

  “I was her backup,” Charice said, sniffing. “If the wards broke, a loud alarm spell went off at the shop. I thought she was crazy, with all those wards how could anyone break through…and, well, it’s not like she had some great treasure to protect.”