Night Magic: A Wing Slayer Novel

by Jennifer Lyon

  The pain bloomed hot and agonizing while the man behind her panted as he dug his hand in the wound. His excitement scared her and made her sick. Her fear and pain intensified the power in her blood, giving him a bigger kick as he absorbed it through his skin. She had to stop them, or at least find a way to save Dee.

  “Enough,” the other rogue snarled. “Young said she has to be alive.”

  They started dragging her away. Terror pounded in her head. Ailish could think of only one way to try to force her chakras open and help Dee. She began to sing:

  With the light of the sun

  The power of the moon

  The energy of the earth

  The wisdom of the Ancestors

  Bring forth the power to heal the wounded and restore the blood of life!

  “Shit, what’s she doing?” yelled the rogue dragging her.

  Her chakras shot open, spilling out energy. Ailish had only seconds before the rogues cut her to ribbons. With the massive arm trapping her, all she could do was bend her arms at the elbows and try to control the sudden and thick power racing through her. She pointed her hands to where Dee lay fallen by the car, hoping enough healing energy would get to her.

  Everything happened at once. Power ripped through her and exploded from her control. Magic crackled and streaked around them, creating a strong whirling wind. The second rogue slammed into her from the front, and all three of them hit the ground.

  “Mine!” one of them screamed.

  “I’ll kill you!” the other yelled.

  The rogues had turned on each other! Ailish had barely rolled away before she heard the clash of knives and pounding of fists. What the hell was going on?

  “Ailish? What’s happening?”

  It was Kyle’s voice. She got to her feet and made her way toward him. “Kyle, see if the woman by the car door is alive!” Her side hurt, but a quick feel told her the wound was closed. Same thing with her thigh. Her powers had healed her, but had they reached Dee? Or maybe even Kyle?

  “Blood everywhere, but the wound is shallow and she’s breathing,” Kyle reported. “Hell, the wound is closing.”

  “Have to get her—” Something slammed into her, and she hit the back of the car.

  “He has a knife!” Kyle shouted.

  She tried to squirm, twist, and use her elbows, but the copper-smelling rogue’s huge frame and weight had her pinned to the car. Then the blade slashed the outside of her right arm, from her shoulder to her elbow, ripping through skin and muscle. Ailish screamed, the hot agony unbearable. Dizziness assaulted her, sweat coated her body, and her chakras shut down completely. With as much breath as she could get, she said, “Get Dee in the car and get out of here.” It was the only hope of Dee and Kyle living through this.

  “Can’t leave you!” Kyle said, but he was breathing hard, as though he were moving something heavy.

  “Go!” It was hard to think, but she guessed her magic had reached Kyle, healing him enough to move Dee. She just hoped he and Dee could escape.

  The rogue yanked her off the car, picked her up, threw her over his shoulder, and began to run. He jumped over something in his path. Hanging upside down over his back, she could just make out the shape of the other rogue dead or dying on the ground. Vaguely, she realized that unleashing her voice power had driven them both mad; they’d fought each other, and the winner got her.

  She heard Dee’s car start up and take off. Please let Kyle and Dee get to safety.

  The rogue stopped running and yanked open a vehicle door. He threw Ailish in. She landed on her arm, and fireworks burst in her head, then all went black.

  Phoenix stood up and walked to the wet bar to grab a water bottle. He hated being powerless and manipulated by some force he couldn’t fight. The curse was bad enough, fighting the compulsion for witch blood was part of his code, his refusal to give in and be controlled.

  But this … He twisted off the cap, drank some water. It all kept circling in his mind. Ailish really did have a voice of a siren; it was real. He’d felt its strength. Which meant she was enhancing magic every time.…

  “Quinn Young knows.” He set his water down, prowling the room. “Tully’s words, Won’t die. Won’t. Young swore the witch blood was enhanced.…” Fury and disgust brewed violently. “The biggest fear of any rogue is dying. They don’t have their souls, so they’ll spend eternity as a shade. Young has told them that if they kill off all the earth witches, Asmodeus will have the power to grant them immortality and they’ll rule the earth with him.”

  Key came out of the kitchen holding a full coffeepot and several mugs. “Dumb shits never seem to realize that Asmodeus was behind the curse that stripped our immortality in the first place.”

  Axel said, “If Asmodeus succeeds in eliminating all witches and turning all hunters rogue, Wing Slayer will have no power on earth. There will be nothing to stand between the demon and earth. Asmodeus will probably get enough power to grant them immortality, just like Wing Slayer had enough power to make us immortal before the curse.”

  Key said, “Wing Slayer has regained enough power to grant soul mirrors immortality, so Asmodeus has to fight harder.” He shifted his gaze to Phoenix. “He needs Ailish to become his demon witch. Then he’ll control her siren power, using it to enhance the blood of earth witches to make his rogues stronger, as well as the dark magic of his demon witches.”

  Carla cleared her throat. “The Circle Witches are very concerned about that. We can’t let Ailish turn into a demon witch.”

  “She’s fighting to get the handfast off.” Phoenix wanted to believe her. “Asmodeus is torturing her.” He remembered her trapped in that dream. She’d sung once to wake up, but the second time she’d refused. He could still see that single tear running down her face, still smell the burnt scent of her pain. Unable to stand still, he paced between the back of the couch and the wet bar. It hit him that Asmodeus hadn’t just been punishing her. “He had been trying to make her sing, to enhance the blood of more witches, and whatever else they might be—”

  Her voice exploded in his head. He stumbled, catching himself on the bar. The words pulsed with pain, fear, and determination. He recognized the voice instantly. “Ailish!” The curse woke up in his veins as her voice resonated in his head and throughout his body. He could hear the desperation in each note. The bird-and-fire tattoo on his biceps grew hot, then burned like a branding iron.

  A scream pierced his brain.

  “I feel that,” Carla said.

  “I do, too,” Darcy added. “She’s enhancing magic.”

  Phoenix heard them from a distance. His entire being focused on that voice. What if Asmodeus had her? Any number of possibilities tumbled through his head. A lung-squeezing desperation to get to her slammed into him.

  Fighting for control of his own body, he pulled out his BlackBerry. She wasn’t home!

  “Where are you going?” Axel asked.

  Phoenix was surprised to see he was at the door, BlackBerry in one hand, doorknob in the other. He said the first thing that hit his brain: “We can’t let Ailish become a demon witch.” Then he opened the door and left.

  He studied the GPS tracking on his screen while running to his bike. What the hell was she doing? She’d said she wouldn’t use her power, so something had to have happened. He fired up the bike and roared out of the garage. Bending low over the handlebars, he broke every speed limit he could, passing anything that was between him and Ailish.

  Finally, he found the bunch of condominiums and apartments mixed with small houses that were within walking distance of the beach. He roared down the street and spotted the dead rogue lying on the sidewalk.

  Then he saw the white Suburban tear away from the curb.

  Phoenix swore he heard the screech of a bird, and his biceps burned with rage. He didn’t need the GPS tracking to know Ailish was in that vehicle; he could feel the weak thread of her magic and smell the stronger coconut scent of her blood. He raced after the SUV, catching it at th
e end of the road. Pulling up to the driver’s side, he could see the soft feminine face on a massive neck and shoulders. Rogue. In the passenger seat, he could see the top of a crumpled woman.

  Ailish. It shafted through his chest to see her hurt, crumpled, and being taken away from him. Maybe it was the curse, or the soul-mirror bond, or the siren-phoenix connection, that made his heart pound with possessiveness. He didn’t care; all that mattered to him was getting her back.

  But how did he stop the SUV? He could call for backup or—

  A boot shot out from the passenger side in a powerful kick and slammed into the face of the rogue. Ailish! She was awake and fighting!

  The rogue’s head snapped around from the impact of her kick and smashed into the window. Spider cracks raced through the glass while the SUV careened to the right, hit the curb, and rammed into a light pole. The truck idled loudly.

  The rogue lifted his head and shook it. Then he turned to Ailish.

  Phoenix revved his bike and skidded to a stop right next to the door. Holding the powerful machine steady with his thighs, he wrapped his fingers tightly around his knife, then smashed his fist through the cracked window.

  The rogue started to jerk his head around, but Phoenix raised the knife and stabbed him in the heart. The man bucked and tried to grab the knife. Phoenix twisted the blade, shredding the heart. The rogue’s life drained away.

  He yelled at Ailish, “Get out! On the bike, now!”

  People were starting to come out of their homes, but they were pretty far up the street. Most people were at work this time of the morning, but Phoenix’s luck was running out. He wanted to get Ailish out of there before more rogues showed up. He heard her open the door and drop to the ground, then run around the front of the truck.

  The rich coconut scent of her blood hit him. His skin began to itch violently while his veins burned. Then he saw her and rage burst inside him. She was stumbling, trying to get around the truck while cradling her right arm against her stomach. She’d pulled off her shirt and had wrapped it around her upper arm, leaving her dressed in a black sports bra and jeans. The cut on her arm had to be bad, as the shirt was drenched with blood. He saw a red welt on her side that looked as though she’d healed it and a slice through her jeans on her thigh that might be healed, too. But she couldn’t heal her arm?

  She moved closer.

  The bloodlust flamed higher. His hand tingled where he’d touched her blood two nights ago. Her warm, rich blood would cool the burn and give him that awesome rush of power.

  No! he told himself.

  He put his hands on the handlebars and fought for control as she stopped close to him. So close that he could almost feel the weakness overtaking her. He looked up into her face and saw strain and pain etched into the spidery scars around her eyes. Her normally full mouth was thin and bloodless. “Will you be able to get on behind me and hold on?” Her blood, the smell, was burning through him, his veins swelling until he thought they were going to pop out of his skin.

  Then she let go of her injured arm and put her hand on his shoulder, her fingers on his vest, her palm touching the bare skin. Her hand was damp and icy cold, and her pain sent sharp waves through him. He didn’t know how she was standing, let alone conscious. He might need to ditch the bike and take the rogue’s truck if she couldn’t—

  “Hey! I called nine one one!” A man was running toward them.

  Damn, no time. “Get on!”

  She swung her leg over and mounted the bike.

  “You can’t leave the scene!” another man yelled.

  Phoenix grabbed Ailish’s hand from his shoulder and put it around his waist. He could feel her agony, but they had to book. “Hold on.” He put the bike in gear and raced away. It was sunny and about seventy degrees, but the air was damp and he was hauling ass down the Pacific Coast Highway. She had her arm locked around him, and he could feel her shivering. After a couple miles, she leaned against his back. It was the oddest feeling, her body pressed to his, her thighs spread around him. The burning in his biceps vanished, and so did the bloodlust, but his wing tats were fluttering beneath his skin. The creature was coming to life, rising from the flames, and it wanted to touch her.

  But she’d used her voice. He’d told her how dangerous it was, that she was hurting people. Even Carla and Darcy felt it this time. On the other hand, she had obviously been under attack and was trying to save her life. How could he fault her for that?

  Christ, what did he do now? Ailish needed to heal. He couldn’t take her to the condos over the club and warehouse, or she’d incite the bloodlust in the unbonded hunters. Just the thought of it made his blood boil. His house had a hell of a lot more security than hers, so he turned his bike and headed inland. What was the fallout of her voice power? What other magic did she enhance? He was sure Young knew about Ailish’s power, and that slimy demon minion was finding a way to use it. For sure by harvesting the extra power in earth witch blood, but what else? Young had sacrificed his own soul mirror, Darcy’s mother, to get that Immortal Death Dagger burned into his arm. The idea that he could be harnessing the power released from Ailish’s voice was a massive worry.

  Finally, Phoenix rode up the hill to his crest-top house that looked over a section of suburbia. Below his house lay a planned community with parks, a public pool, and a recreation room. The streets were laid out in a grid, everything screaming neighborhood and home. Exactly what he hadn’t had growing up living hand-to-mouth on the streets.

  He didn’t exactly have it now. He was too … uncivilized to live within the confines of the actual planned community. Phoenix looked like the danger and menace that they built their fences to keep out. Instead he lived above them on the hill, and he kept an eye on the neighborhood.

  Now he was bringing Ailish there. Right now, with her lying against his back, the curse was banked, the bloodlust barely an annoyance. But when he got her off the bike and he wasn’t touching her any longer, when she was alone in his house with no one to help her, what would he do?

  He opened the garage and pulled his bike in next to his black Mustang GT. He had a second Yamaha R6 under a cover in the corner of the garage as his backup bike. He turned off the engine.

  Ailish lifted her head from his back. “Where are we?”

  Her voice was thin, the words slow. Worry gnawed at him. He hadn’t felt her magic at all, not one attempt to heal her arm on the ride. Bracing the bike with his thighs, he took hold of her arm around his waist and said, “My house. Can you get off the bike?”

  She stood, lifted her leg over while he kept hold of her arm. He felt the gooseflesh and her shivers, but she got off and stood there holding her ripped-open arm across her waist.

  He let go, and with his next breath when he inhaled her coconut-blood scent, the curse hit him, cramping his gut, the poisonous craving bulging his veins and sending the blinding flash of enraged need to his brain. He got off the motorcycle, put it on the kickstand. He turned to see her standing there, swaying. Her black shirt was around her arm, her jeans cut, her hair tangled, and her face so pale that the scars stood out. Shit. “Come on, let’s get you inside. You have to heal yourself.”

  “Right. First … sit down.” Her legs gave out.

  Phoenix caught her, sliding his arms beneath her shoulders and knees and lifting her. Drops of her blood spattered on his chest, hand, and arm. He snapped his jaw and clenched his teeth against the whip of icy hot pleasure searing through him. He strode to the door, shifted her, and used his palm print to unlock it. Then he went inside. His kitchen had dark green granite countertops and a natural stone floor. Usually he liked walking in here, liked having a home—a place where he was in control.

  Right now, his control was being tested by the animal craving beating at him. With his veins swelling and pulsing, he felt like the Incredible Hulk ready to explode. He walked past the half stairs that went up to his media room and turned right down the steps into his sunken living room. He put Ailish on the couch.r />
  She groaned and opened her eyes, her body stiffening and her sightless eyes darting around, trying to focus.

  He hated her panic. She was the toughest, scrappiest, most resourceful woman he’d met. She kickboxed blind, for crying out loud! Seeing her beaten and cut into this shivering, vulnerable state destroyed him, making his stomach twist in fury while his chest ached to ease her. Bending down, he said, “Ailish, you’re in my house. You need to focus and heal.” He reached for her shirt and unwrapped it from around her upper arm. “Ah, Christ.” An enraged shriek sounded in his head as he stared at the wound. She was sliced from shoulder to elbow.…

  “Can’t. Used too much power.” She passed out again.

  Damn it. She was going to bleed to death. He could feel her heart slowing. He pulled out his BlackBerry. “Axel, I need Darcy or Carla ASAP.” He explained while assessing the rest of Ailish. Her cheek and jaw were bruising where she’d had her face slammed into something. Her jeans had drying blood around a tear, but when he looked, the cut was healed, just a red line.

  Axel said, “They can’t come, they’re taking care of Morgan. And it’s too risky. I can ask Darcy—”

  Phoenix sat back on his heels, feeling as if he’d been sucker-punched. “What the fuck, Axel! She’s hurt, cut down to the bone, blood every-the-fuck-where. She needs help!” He looked at her face and saw that her eyes were open.

  She squinted, clearly trying to focus on him as she said, “They won’t help. Let me rest a minute and I’ll do it.”

  Hadn’t she already told him that they wouldn’t help her? The Circle Witches hadn’t helped her. Phoenix could not believe this bullshit. She was bleeding out right before his eyes.

  Axel was talking in his ear, but he dropped the phone, grabbing her face to keep her with him. “Ailish, tell me what to do.” Blood was all over her. Hell, he didn’t know enough. But he knew he was not going to let her die.

  She didn’t answer, but another voice called out, “Phoenix.”