Ascension

by Felicity Heaton

  The instant she sensed the barrier, she raised her hand, her palm facing the invisible wall. It bent under her will but didn’t break. Getting in wasn’t going to be easy. It would take time that she didn’t have. Gregori would be regaining his power by the second, getting stronger while she was getting weaker. The magic was pushing again, rising inside her as it began to take control. The ascension might not have started yet but it was coming. She needed to get this over with and get to her parents.

  “Allow me.” Taig wrapped one strong arm around her waist. “Hold on.”

  Lealandra did, unsure of what he was going to do. She clutched his shoulders and he pressed her close to his chest. Darkness swallowed her, pitch black and endless, and then she was back in the emergency stairwell.

  On the other side of the barrier.

  Taig released her and grinned. “Gregori needs to improve his security. Demons don’t move physically through things like witches do when they teleport.”

  Lealandra didn’t want to ask exactly what plane a demon moved through when they were teleporting. The darkness she had seen wasn’t only an absence of light. It had a presence. It had felt as though it was the world between worlds, the one where evil spirits were born as shadows. Could Taig enter that realm so easily and without fear?

  She shuddered and trudged on, not wanting to think about it. She stopped at the closed door for the nineteenth floor and reached out with her power to see what awaited her. Witches. Several of them and they were powerful. Gregori wasn’t alone. Two stood just the other side of the door and two near Gregori. The ones defending him were the supreme mages judging by the strength of their magic as hers briefly touched it. The two nearer the door were high-level witches. Nothing she couldn’t handle but they would prove a distraction and give the supreme mages and Gregori a chance to attack her and Taig.

  Taig touched her arm. He motioned in the direction of the two weaker witches and then pointed at her. She waved a hand in Gregori’s direction and then at herself. Taig frowned. She hadn’t expected him to be happy about the prospect of her going after Gregori alone while he fought the weaker demons but she had to do it. Someone had to keep him busy while Taig evened the odds and she had to make sure that he didn’t regain his full strength. Taig pointed to the weaker witches again and firmly thrust his finger towards her. Lealandra placed her hands on her hips and shook her head. He rolled his eyes and then a sigh lifted his shoulders and he touched her cheek.

  She knew what he was trying to tell her. Be careful. She mirrored him, stroking his cheek, and smiling as she nodded. He had to be careful too. While he had completely regained his power, he still had a weak spot. Her. He would be worried about her during the fight. She would do her best, would fight without restraint so he didn’t have to worry and wouldn’t leave himself open to attack.

  Taig gave her one last look and then burst into the large open plan room with a roar. Lealandra followed and immediately pinpointed Gregori, her gaze sweeping away from the bank of windows that formed the long wall opposite her. He stood to her right in the low-lit brown-walled room, near his office and the mahogany double doors to his master suite. She broke away from Taig and headed straight for Gregori and the supreme mages. Gregori was pale even in the dim light of the stand lamps and ceiling spotlights. Dark rings circled his hazel eyes, his face gaunt and hollow. His jaw-length brown hair was a mess, strands falling out of the ponytail, and the tail of his black shirt hung loose from his trousers. He stared at her with dark lifeless eyes. He was still recovering from her spell. Now was her chance.

  The second she was within reach of firing a spell at Gregori, something hit her and flung her backwards towards where Taig was fighting near the couches and table at the other end of the long room. The world rushed by and she held her hands out. Red threads of magic wound around her fingers and she slowed. Such a simple attack wasn’t going to stop her. She pushed her arms towards the supreme mages and frowned as she unleashed her magic, sending one of the older greying men flying backwards past Gregori, creating an opening.

  She ran at Gregori.

  The other supreme mage appeared in a swirl of dark blue material in front of her, the tails of his long coat flaring outwards, and backhanded her. The power behind the strike sent her smashing into the dark carpet and her entire side ached but she refused to give up so quickly. Before he could attack again, she shot a spell at him, a red burning orb that he ducked to avoid. It caught his grey hair, singeing it, and he cast a dark look her way and raised his hands. She barrelled into him, taking him down, and was about to unleash another attack when he cast his own spell and threw her off him. She tumbled along the carpet with the force of the bolt of magic and ended up near Taig.

  The area was a mess now. One of the couches was broken clean in two and the table was kindling. Taig had already dealt with one of the witches. He hurled the other one across the room, sending him crashing into the far wall and the massive modern painting that covered it, and then held his hand out to her. She took it and smiled when he helped her up.

  The guard attacked him. Taig growled and punched him hard across the jaw and then in the stomach. Lealandra ran back to her own fight at the other end of the room. Taig could handle the guard but she was beginning to think that she couldn’t handle Gregori and his goons. She shot two spells at the supreme mages to incapacitate them and then launched everything she could at Gregori. Three spells in one. Bind. Silence. Pain. One big spell that drained her.

  The two supreme mages deflected the spells she had hurled towards them but didn’t move to protect Gregori. She breathed hard, weak and dizzy from using so much magic in one spell, and watched Gregori. He casually lifted a hand and waved her spell away as though it was nothing more than a gnat. She cursed. He had regained more power than she had anticipated.

  She hadn’t thought this through and she had placed both herself and Taig in danger because of it.

  Taig was a blur of fury as he passed her. Her eyes widened when he threw the guard at the group facing her. The witch hit one of the supreme mages, taking him down, and Lealandra hit the other with a spell but they fired one back at her. She didn’t have time to avoid it. It struck her and her hands snapped to her sides, her body encased in invisible chains that tightly held her. Binding spell. She swore silently and glared at the supreme mage who had fired it. Binding spells were strong and almost impossible to break without outside intervention from another witch.

  The mage disappeared. Lealandra’s eyes widened when she realised what was going to happen. This had been a terrible mistake. She should have thought it through.

  A sharp pain in her neck sent rage pulsing through her and she struggled, fighting the binding spell and trying to lift her arms. Gregori stared at her from his place of safety, untouchable. Taig fought the second supreme mage, trying to get to her, his black t-shirt ripped to shreds and his face and arms bloodied from the fight. What had she done? She should have listened to him and to her mother. They weren’t strong enough yet to fight and she had played right into Gregori’s hands.

  Her head spun but she fought on. Her magic rose, seeping into her veins and then out of her, creating an aura that shifted her hair, sending it floating and swirling. She growled when her teeth sharpened and the world changed. Her hands moved a millimetre and Gregori frowned.

  The magic surged through her and took control.

  With an inhuman cry, Lealandra shattered the bonds that held her and turned on the supreme mage. The needle left her neck and she tried to get it from him but it disappeared from his hand. She screamed and launched him backwards, sending him slamming into the brown wall and knocking him unconscious. She turned on Gregori. He waved the needle at her. She had been a fool.

  Noises came from the stairwell. The others had reached them.

  Lealandra set her sights on Gregori and ran at him, intent on finishing him off, her magic demanding his blood for what he had done. It controlled her, whispered the words for a forbidden incanta
tion in her mind, one that she didn’t know but recognised deep within her soul. Such a spell wouldn’t only kill Gregori. It would kill everything within a mile radius. She couldn’t do such a thing. Taig would die. She fought the magic but couldn’t stop it. It wouldn’t listen to her. She wasn’t strong enough to command it now. The rage inside her, the desire for violence, was frightening. She no longer felt herself. She felt trapped inside someone else’s body, unable to do anything. Unable to protect the man she loved.

  Taig turned towards her.

  Gregori smiled calmly.

  She didn’t see the spell that hit her. He lifted his hand and darkness descended on her. The shadows in the room came to life and the air turned to ice. She shivered and her magic withdrew, fearful of the things she could see, twisted shapes that crawled towards her. Spirits. He had sent her to that dark place that Taig had brought her through.

  Lealandra backed away, casting glances around her at the encroaching shadows. Her breaths shortened. She pressed a hand against her tight chest and felt the pounding of her heart.

  The black fog lifted enough for her to see Gregori smiling at her, his eyes full of darkness as he held the needle up. Her magic rose again at the sight of the blood he had taken from her and she took a step forwards, intent on reclaiming it. Another spell collided with her, wrapping her in a cocoon and then seeping into her. White-hot pain blinded her, bone-deep and threatening to steal her consciousness.

  She doubled up, clutching her chest and stomach, and tried to expunge the spell, managing to force it away from her bones. It fought back, tearing at her flesh until she felt as though it was ripping her apart from the inside out.

  Strong arms wrapped around her and the world brightened. A gust of wind hit her and then sound splintered through her mind. Silence followed with a cool rush of air over her body. Her magic pushed the remaining shreds of the spell from her body and the darkness left her. She leaned into Taig’s chest and wrapped her arms around him as he cradled her, one arm under her legs and the other behind her back. She frowned and opened her eyes when she felt his wings and the strong beat of wind against her hands.

  The world passed by below them, a myriad of twinkling lights in the silence.

  She was flying again, floating in Taig’s arms, and this time it didn’t frighten her at all.

  Lealandra idly watched the cars on the dark streets. It all looked so beautiful from up here in the night. Was this what the moon saw when it looked down upon them? How could a world so full of darkness look so beautiful from a distance?

  “Hold on, Lea,” Taig whispered and held her tighter. There was so much hurt in his voice. No, not hurt. Fear. He was afraid for her. “We’ll be home soon.”

  Home.

  She still liked the way he said that. As though his place was theirs.

  She could see Central Park in the distance. Taig’s wings beat heavily in the air, strong and taking away any fear of falling she had. He wouldn’t drop her. He would keep her safe just as he had promised. She believed in him.

  But could he protect her from Gregori?

  He had her blood now.

  Her only chance of defeating him was to make it through her ascension.

  She had to survive.

  She had to stop him.

  CHAPTER 19

  Taig sat in silence on the end of the bed, his elbows resting on his knees and his fingers forming steeples in front of his face. His eyes didn’t move, fixed on Lealandra where she lay sleeping. Warm sunlight flooded into the room, casting a pale glow over her skin and marking that a day had passed since he had brought her home. He had tended her wounds, had done everything he could for her, and had waited ever since. It had been difficult, wore him down worse than any form of torture, but he endured it, knowing that she was regaining her strength little by little. His rage had quietened as she had improved and it was back under control now. She looked brighter at last. The greyness was gone from her skin. The sunlight made her look peaceful. Dead. Only the steady rise and fall of her chest beneath the deep red covers reassured him that she was alive.

  Time crept on, the shadows slowly moving around, marking the passing hours across the black wall behind her.

  Taig waited a few minutes more, willing Lealandra to stir and show signs of regaining consciousness. When she didn’t, he stood and walked over to her. He pressed a kiss to her forehead, breathed in her sweet scent, and then grabbed a fresh black t-shirt and left the room.

  The apartment was spotless now. He put on the t-shirt and walked across the room. The only sign of his fight with the demons was the dent in the far wall next to the long black side cupboard and a couple of holes in the pillar near the kitchen. He had cleared everything else away, including the remains of the demons. It had been the only way of distracting himself while he waited for Lealandra to come around. Now he had nothing to do to keep himself occupied. He paced across the room and came to a halt next to the picture of his parents. Without thinking, he reached out and picked it up.

  Their happy faces smiled up at him. He stroked a finger over his mother’s stomach. She had been so happy. His gaze shifted to his father. There was no lie in the demon’s expression. He had been as happy as his mother. They had both wanted him. So why had they left him?

  His demon surfaced along with his anger but again it didn’t push for freedom. It lingered below his skin, one with him, called out by his need and his despair. He thought about what Lealandra had said to him. He was a man. Both his demon side and his human side made him who he was—a man who Lealandra loved, a man who was strong enough to protect her.

  His fight against the demons and the coven had made him realise that without his demon blood, he wouldn’t be able to protect Lealandra. It had been a difficult thing to accept and was only made harder by the fact that on some level he was glad now that he had demon blood. It was that which gave him the power to look after her, not only to protect her but to help her control her magic. When the ascension came, she would need his demonic power more than ever. It would be the key to her survival. If he had been born wholly human, he would have been useless to her, impotent in his desire to take care of her.

  The smiling faces of his father and mother radiated affection up at him. The years he had spent with them had been full of tenderness and acceptance. They had both loved him and he was sure that they had loved each other too.

  Were they really dead? Did he really want to go with Lealandra to find out what had happened to them? He had never wanted to venture into the underworld in search of them before but now he was considering it.

  Meeting Lealandra’s parents had made him think about how his would have reacted to her. His mother would have liked her. His gaze shifted to his father. Perhaps he would have been able to accept that his son loved a witch. After all, he had broken with the demon world to live with his mother and marry her, and have him. He had dared to love a human.

  That was no less sinful than loving a witch.

  Taig placed the picture down on the long black side cabinet and opened the cupboard below it. He chose a gleaming black-handled hunting knife and looked around the apartment. Where to start? He had to protect what was his, had to keep Lealandra safe. Gregori had her blood now but something told him that it wouldn’t end there. Lealandra wouldn’t let it and while she was alive and had a chance of surviving her ascension, Gregori would be after her. He would want to get rid of her.

  Taig went to the door and ran his fingers over the marks on the wooden frame. The protection they offered was strong but not enough to make him comfortable. He took the knife and began carving symbols into the spaces on the wood, marking out the most powerful protection at his disposal—the protection his father had used on their home and had taught him as a child.

  Nothing would be able to get within fifty metres of his apartment without him knowing about it, and, if they dared to attempt to enter by force, the enchantment would send them to the shadow world and trap them there with the evil things tha
t it spawned. It wasn’t a temporary or easy to break thing like Gregori’s pathetic spell. It was permanent. The shadows would eat them before they could even think about trying to escape.

  Over an hour had passed by the time Taig had finished scoring the protection marks on the door and window frames.

  He ended up in the kitchen, leaning against the black glossy cupboards beside the red refrigerator. He toyed with his knife and tried to think of something to do now to keep his mind occupied. Humans moved in and out of the perimeter of the incantation. Nothing for him to be concerned about. He shifted focus to the bedroom when something moved. Lealandra. His heart said to go to her but she appeared in the doorway, holding a white robe closed around her, before he could move. The tiredness in her eyes spoke volumes. She was still weak. Gregori had done a real number on her but Taig knew it wasn’t only that which had sapped her strength. The ascension was close. She would be constantly fighting her magic now in an attempt to control it.

  “Morning.” She rubbed her eyes and yawned. “What time is it?”

  Taig smiled and put his knife down on the black granite counter top. Her gaze moved to it and she frowned briefly before looking at the front door and the windows. The rise in the power of protection over the apartment would be significant enough for her to sense.

  “You’ve been busy. We in trouble?” she murmured sleepily and padded barefoot across the living room to him. He rounded the kitchen island and helped her sit on one of the black stools. She leaned one elbow on the black granite counter and yawned again.

  “You’ve been sleeping a while,” he said and she looked at him. When she frowned, he took it as an order to expand on what he had said. “Over a day.”

  Her eyebrows rose and then fell again when she leaned her head heavily on her upturned palm.

  “A day.” She sighed. “Gregori has my blood.”

  “I know.” Taig sat on the stool next to her, took hold of her hand and held it. It was warm in his, the feel of it comforting him as much as seeing her awake. “He can’t get to you here. Not now.”