Rage: A New Adult Urban Fantasy (Spelldrift: Coven of Fire Book 3)

by Sierra Cross

  The Neqs moved toward Liv who made no effort to move. Get up! I was shouting, screaming so loud it was ripping up the inside of my head. But Liv lay motionless as green firebolts formed on the demons’ fingers. The Neqs skulked toward her. Liv’s finger twitched.

  “Excisio mortis.” The words tumbled from her bruised lips not even above a whisper, but it was enough. A golden crosshatch of laser like beams formed a circle around her. The first Neq didn’t see it in time and stepped right into it. Its tripe-surfaced flesh got sliced into slabs of steak, falling to the ground with a meaty plop, plop, plop.

  The second Neq jumped back as it let loose its firebolt. But the green blast hit Liv’s spell like a mosquito hitting a bug zapper. Way to go, Liv! I’d never seen this spell. Must have been something she read about on her own time. Once again, her talent overwhelmed me. I felt her weary determination as more golden magic formed on her fingertips, her brain making precise calculations, her fatigued muscles aiming and throwing the firebolt at the remaining demon in front of her. Dead on! Dusted on impact.

  And my vision faded.

  “That really is annoying,” Asher said, looking as if he’d been through the ringer.

  He and Matt were peering down at me with concern. I elbowed up into a sitting position only to find my hands pressed flat on the gnarly hotel carpet. A thin sheen of disinfectant and years of dirt coated my fingers.

  “Duh. As if I do this by choice.” I reached onto the bed for my purse and rifled through it for my phone.

  “Is Liv okay?” Matt asked quietly.

  “Until I rip her a new one,” I said, dialing.

  “I’m okay.” She answered on the third ring, breathless. Her words were slightly slurred as she talked around swollen lips. “Oh, Alix—”

  “Don’t ‘oh Alix’ me. What the hell were you thinking! Promise me you won’t go after her alone again. Ever.” Tears filled my eyes and threatened to fall as I thought of the danger she just put herself in. “I can’t lose you too.”

  “She’s in there, Alix,” Liv said. “Callie’s alive.”

  “The same Callie who just left Neqs to kill you in that snow-covered parking lot?” Was Liv’s light-witch nature causing her to follow her emotions into danger? And weren’t we doing the same thing, following Matt’s emotional need to save Alana? I hated to think my aunt was right about our nature. “Callie’s eyes were as dead as a demon’s. I hate it too, but she’s gone.”

  “No she’s not!” Liv barked. “That’s what I’m trying to tell you. I felt the pulse. Like the tome explained. She’s still in there.”

  Her hand was on Callie’s neck for less than a split second. I had been in Liv’s body and didn’t feel anything. “Liv…”

  “Damn it, you have to believe me!”

  This was not the time to reason with her. “Just…promise me not to go after Callie again until we get back, okay?”

  Liv’s non-committal okay was less than reassuring, but I had to take what I could get.

  “All right.” I tossed the phone back into my purse. “Back to us MacGyvering Alana out of prison.”

  “Molecular dispersion,” Asher began.

  “Wait a minute,” Matt said. “Up to now we’ve been skirting the law. Buying fireworks. Playing hide and seek with Council agents. But this…this is big.” His searching gaze moved from me to Asher and back. “We’re talking about committing a major felony. This is a crime that can’t be undone. I’m already a wanted man, but right now you two could walk free. You can fly home to the Spelldrift and claim you never knew I was a Mal. But if you help me bust Alana out and your involvement in this ever comes to light…you could spend the rest of your lives behind bars.”

  I didn’t want to go to be a fugitive. And I really didn’t want to go to prison. But I tried to imagine myself going home, leaving Matt behind, moving on with my life. But Matt was my life. What I’d have left would be years of surviving, not living. “I’ll do whatever you need,” I said.

  “Can’t let you two have all the fun,” Asher said. “Let’s do this thing.”

  What was that old saying? The coven that commits felonies together stays together? Okay, not a saying. Yet. For our sake, I hoped it was about to be.

  Chapter Eleven

  The dark tunnel stretched out before us, lit only by the light of Matt’s phone. The brick arches appeared and disappeared in a staccato rhythm as we jogged beneath them along the uneven terrain. The historical appeal of the ancient architecture did nothing to lessen the creep factor.

  When Matt brought up his idea of approaching this problem from a different perspective, traipsing through one of Barcelona’s ancient Roman aqueducts was not what I imagined. My favorite leather boots were a couple of inches deep in water. So much for the glamour of my newly chosen vocation.

  This aqueduct had been servicing this city for two thousand years. Did they still use this water? Was it hooked up to anything? At least, I told myself, if the structure had held together that long, it wouldn’t collapse on me now.

  We were in stealth mode. All our coven experience with wards made us pretty much top-shelf experts on the subject. Before we entered, we’d used all the knowledge we had amassed to manipulate the barrier and slip through unscathed—and hopefully undetected.

  If the Council Suprema agents had already questioned her and knew Matt was her son, there was a possibility they’d be expecting us. She didn’t seem tough enough to withstand interrogation. But on the other hand, she didn’t know Matt’s whereabouts or even if he was on her side. Asher had tamped down all our signatures and erased our magical contrails so our trail would be nearly impossible to follow. Maybe it would give us an edge? Yeah, like the blades of daggers stuck in our hearts.

  The Council Suprema holding facility was built right on top of the aqueduct. This channel would eventually take us to a manhole that led up to an access tunnel. Space would be tight, Asher had warned, but the access tunnel should take us directly underneath the large cell that held all the prisoners they booked until their paperwork was processed. By all accounts this should be a piece of cake. What could go wrong?

  Asher was watching the GPS app on his phone as he jogged ahead of us. “We’re getting close,” he called out, and stopped.

  Matt and I slowed our pace, too.

  “Damn it,” Asher said, pointing to a pile of rubble as old as Caesar. “The ladder up is right under that.”

  “Can’t we just blast through it?” I asked.

  “Not a great idea if we were hoping for the element of surprise,” Matt pointed out.

  I was not about to be deterred now. “I guess we’ll just have to magic our way out of this then.”

  “Confident, aren’t you, young witch,” Asher said, rolling his sleeves up further. “Okay. This is going to take all of us.” Turning to Matt he added. “So get your witch on, brother.”

  Matt gave him a look, but stepped into the circle and let his faint gold magic bloom on his fingertips. Without Liv, we were not a complete coven, but the three of us together did have boosted powers.

  In the dark, our magic gleamed beautifully, the flowing light contrasting with the jagged architecture that surrounded us. I felt the push and pull as Asher directed our magic to each stone that blocked our way. Debris sailed gracefully through the air, stacking in a neat pile several meters away, where it wasn’t blocking anything. Stone by stone we moved every piece of rubble until the ancient cast-iron bars of the ladder were cleared and the opening above us was visible.

  We scrambled up the rungs and into the much more cramped tunnel above.

  This tunnel branched out to the left. To clear the ceiling, Matt and Asher had to run bent over. Even I had to duck my head. We crossed under a low arch, and I felt a magical ping. Matt and Asher’s eyes went wide.

  “What was that?” I asked.

  “Blast it all, it was completely hidden,” Asher cursed. “Tripwire.”

  If the agents hadn’t known we were here yet, they did now.
We had tripped their magical detection grid.

  Asher called his magic through his Chimerian tattoos. “This’ll make us a bit harder to pinpoint. Could give us a couple of extra minutes.”

  We picked up the pace.

  The tunnel turned again, and Asher stopped. “Here.”

  Using the red sticky wax from the blasting caps—with the charges removed—Matt secured the two dark vials to the ceiling.

  “Alix, want to do the honors?” Asher asked.

  Honors? I could be sending us all to our deaths. This spell had zero margin for error. Either I sped the molecules up fast enough to get Alana out. Or I blew up the liquid like the bomb it was originally intended to be.

  No turning back now.

  “Everybody cross your fingers,” I said before saying the spell words.

  “Not very confidence inspiring,” Asher scolded. “You can do this. You’re our coven leader.”

  I threw my hands down, golden magic blooming on my fingertips. Though it wanted to spread, I remembered how Liv moved her magic in her body and tried to do the same. “Celeriter movebitur!” I spit the words out. They echoed off the ancient brick and stone.

  The flow of power tingled and surged inside of me. But this spell wasn’t just about power. It required finesse and control on a level I’d never attempted before. I felt like I was fighting against my own power. Trying to hold onto a greased pig, squeezing with all my might. The memory of Liv in the reading room came back to me. How she pulled magic from her core and moved it through her body. I could do that—channel it through me rather than fight against it. Finding my center, I pushed the energy forward. It bucked, but I went with the flow, harnessing its power. I steered the current of magic into the iridescent liquid in the vials. Pop, pop, I heard the glass crack, but it didn’t shatter. God, had I used too much energy?

  I had to slow down the flow, but the magic seemed to have a mind of its own. It wanted to race to the finish line. If I let that happen, we would be in smithereens.

  The glass vials gave way, but the liquid was now a living thing. A mini-tornado that was slowly being sucked into the stone. The magic moved like it was in a centrifuge. Carefully controlled sparks bloomed on its surface. I pictured it invading the molecules. I cribbed the old animation of electrons in a collider that I’d seen in seventh grade science class. The stone floor above us smoked and warbled until finally it was a hazy cloud that we could see right through.

  Through the magical hole I could see Alana standing in the cell above us—alone. I thought Matt said this was the communal holding cell. Where were the other prisoners? As I pondered their absence, shouts and the stomping of feet pounded like a beating drum in the cavernous old building. A dozen Council agents rushed into the cell. Not just any agents—with their double-padded wardsuits and helmets, this looked like an elite swat team. Confusion reigned as some of the soldiers jumped back from the magical hole, and others dove for Alana. But the witch moved quick as a scared cat, eyes wide, leaping away from the hands that were trying to grab her.

  Matt called through the opening to his mother. “Jump!” I hoped she could hear him above the din.

  “No.” One voice yelled over the commotion. It was Chris, Matt’s former friend. “You don’t know what you’re doing. She’s a—”

  Alana threw a shoulder and caught Chris squarely in the gut, sending him flying. She stood at the edge of the hole for a split second. Terror was forcing her to act. She flung herself into the breach and was suspended in mid-air.

  “Fuck!” Asher yelled. “It’s the mother of all wards.”

  Asher ripped his shirt open, tattoos all over his body starting to swirl. He didn’t hesitate, nor ask, but with a violent yank he pulled my magic to him. It was like ripping flesh, it was so painful. He was muttering an incantation. Alana flailed above us, mired in almost-invisible goo. She struggled against its hold and every kick and punch sent forth a prismatic burst of color. Among the soldiers, the Fidei, perhaps sensing their Wont weapons were useless, moved aside and let the guardians in the group fling their etched knives at the frantic witch. But she was stuck deep enough in the ward that the enchanted blades bounced right off. Her screams of terror pierced my ringing ears. Was she screaming at the agents? At us? Our warlock wasn’t daunted by the shrieking or my moans of pain or the enchanted blades that would rain down once that veil broke. He kept muttering, eyes rolling back in his head. Matt steeled himself against the pain, veins throbbing, but god bless him, he was leaning into it. All I wanted to do was run, if my muscles would’ve let me. The drain of power made my head pound. A surge of energy flowed between us, spicy and unfamiliar. Was this Asher’s Chimerian magic? My body wanted me to scream at him to release me, but the tactic was starting to work. The ward was weakening.

  With a great rending sound, the veil began to smolder and rip. Alana’s wails were louder as the lower half of her body slipped through the tear in the barrier, legs flailing. And within a sudden flurry her body tumbled through the breach, and Asher slammed the magic upward, sealing the ward. Matt’s arms broke Alana’s fall, knocking them both to the ground.

  “Get us out of here!” Matt shouted at me.

  My hands were shaking so hard, they struggled to obey the commands my brain was sending. The spell I’d been holding on the stone collapsed. The molecules ceased swirling and the stone filled in solid again. I could hear Council Suprema agents hammering at the floor above. Muffled orders were being barked but I couldn’t hear what they were. I managed to fish a disc-shaped spellbead out of my pocket.

  “Hurry!” Asher shouted.

  I couldn’t make my fingers work right. Asher had pulled too much; my muscles wouldn’t make a fist. Alana snatched the bead from my palm, extended her arm, and let it fly. And that’s when I knew we’d made a terrible mistake.

  Chapter Twelve

  As my molecules hurtled to god knew where, everything, even my hair, hurt. But the sensation I felt most was the razor blades that scraped across my skin. Alana was indeed dark. In fact, there was no Alana. There was only a Caedis who had tricked us into throwing away our lives.

  How could that be? Even if a Caedis had snuck through the Demongate the night of the massacre, surely it would have popped up on the Fidei registry. How could it have roamed around for ten years undetected? The answer was, this Caedis had an unlikely advantage. Having taken over a witch’s body, it had gained not only her spellcasting talents but also the ability to tamp down its signature. Yet a mature witch’s body came with disadvantages as well. Was this Caedis so powerful it was able to control the magic inside a witch’s body? Upper-level demon strength working in unison with skilled spellcasting, all in one deadly package. That thought struck fear in my heart.

  But mostly it made me wonder how the hell we were going to get out of this alive.

  No matter how powerful she was, this Caedis was a fucking bad driver. The first time I traveled with a spellbead, it was over in an instant. But with practice, I was able to slow down time and see the possibility of controlling the direction of the trip. I hadn’t mastered it yet, but I was confident that one day I’d be able to “steer.” This spellbead trip felt like I’d been hit by a semi-truck then put in a flatbed wagon drawn by clumsy horses over broken rock. Every time I thought she was about to land she swerved us back into motion, jarring my brain in my skull. Every part of my body screamed in pain. She was zigzagging all over the place. I didn’t love having my molecules hacky-sacked about, but it was the least of my problems.

  Alana concentrated on steering this wacked out ride as we sailed toward the outskirts of the city, the ground rapidly approaching. Asher’s eyes narrowed as if he had a plan. His tattoos swirled, golden firebolts on his fingertips. As the ground was rushing up to meet us, he hurled two blasts at the Caedis’s back, clearly hoping to catch her off guard. No such luck. Without turning around, she called magic to her hands and sent a green firebolt right at Asher’s torso.

  Our ride was about to slam i
nto the earth. I braced for impact.

  Asher was thrown like a rag doll and slammed into the far wall, landing with his limbs turned at odd angles. Angry blisters, edged with charred skin slashed across his stomach. My blood ran cold. I knew the pain he was feeling. It was a Caedis sear. If we didn’t find a way to get the poison out, it would kill him within hours.

  My boot hit the floor, and I tucked and rolled as more razorlike sensations sliced through my already beleaguered limbs. Alana landed on her feet, as did Matt—perks of being the quasi-son of a crazy Caedis. Both seemed unscathed.

  We were in a large room in a ruined stone building. All around us, floor to ceiling, was a shimmering green web of ethereal filaments. At the sight of it, I felt the full weight of how badly we had fucked up. We were trapped behind a protective dome—just like the one Tenebris had created with the help of the amulet. But rather than protecting herself, Alana was using it as a prison cell to keep us in. She hadn’t had the amulet to help her cast this powerful magic. Instead she had to build it from the ground up, using a crushed obsidian pentagram drawn on the battered stone floor. From the powdered stone rose a faint green sparkle, forming an impenetrable force field. I felt like a cow trapped in a pasture of stray voltage. Too much energy flowed around us, and a bad caffeine trip of impending doom filled the space. I couldn’t push it down enough to take a full breath. No way I could recoup my strength while trying to fight this off too.

  “Damn, woman, those were some pretty convincing screams,” Asher said, coughing. “And that scared-rabbit look? Deserves an Academy Award for sure.” He sat up, moving his arms and legs ever so carefully. He was trying to keep the pain from registering on his face, but I knew exactly what he was feeling. I’d only survived my Caedis sear by having Matt heal me with his witch magic. With our power inaccessible thanks to Alana’s dome, what would happen to Asher?