Night Magic: A Wing Slayer Novel

by Jennifer Lyon

  Jesus, her feathery touches over his face rocketed through him, while her words made him sound important, not just another street rat. The need for her, the yearning of his soul to touch her soul, took hold of him. Her magic was caressing him everywhere her body touched his. She needed this as much as he did. “Ailish, you feel it, too. We belong together.” He swept his hand down her side and tugged up her little tank.

  She lifted her arms. “I ache for you. Only you.”

  Her honesty ripped away his last shred of control. He tossed her shirt and looked down. Her breasts were swollen, the dark nipples distended. Her magic still purred through her. He leaned down and suckled, drawing in the coconut essence that flavored her. At the same time, he slipped his hand beneath her sweats and panties, over the smooth, hot skin of her mound.

  She parted her legs for him while making small frantic noises in her throat.

  He knew the magic, the Siren’s Song, pulsed in her. He licked and sucked one nipple, then the other, while pressing one finger into her hot channel.

  Her walls rippled with the magic, and he shuddered. Her need was as great as his. He lifted his head and pushed up to her ear, while adding a second finger and stroking her in the most intimate way possible. She arched, a moan of pure desire slipping from her mouth. “You need me to fill you. I feel your hunger.” He was hard and desperate to be inside her.

  Her fingers dug into his tats while her hips pumped against him, seeking relief from the overwhelming mix of magic and desire building in her. “Yes.” Turning her head until she was mouth-to-mouth with him, she said, “I called you back to me, and now I can’t let you go. Even my magic cries out to you.”

  He kissed her.

  Ailish couldn’t bear anything between them. Even as his fingers filled her, his tongue mating with hers, his body covering her, surrounding her …

  She needed more. Never had she felt as powerful as when she’d freed her voice to call him to her. She ran her hand down his side, feeling his leathers, and breathed a cry into his hot mouth.

  She used her powers to strip them.

  He licked and kissed along her jaw to her oh-so-sensitive ear. Sliding his fingers from her, he said, “Open for me wider, sweetheart.” She parted her thighs as he fitted himself against her. “Like that,” he whispered.

  His broad head pressed against her entrance. Magic sparked and pulsed from her breasts down to where he was poised. He pressed an inch into her and then another inch. She lifted her hips, trying to take more, trying to ease the torture of not having him inside her.

  Phoenix reared back, locking one hand around her hip, pinning her to the bed. “Easy, I’m trying to go easy. Not hurt you.”

  Heat was rising from his skin, his scent going dark and so sexy that she wanted to suck the flavor from him. She grabbed his wrist, trying to pull his hand from her. “Please!” The demand began to scream inside her. Her powers rushed and spun, her skin was so sensitive that every touch made her shiver, and deep in her first chakra, that place between her hip bones, yawned with emptiness.

  Phoenix kept hold, pushing inside her at a maddeningly slow rate. “You’re so fucking tight … clenching me …”

  She heard him clamp his jaw, felt him fighting to go easy, and it hit her—he was protecting her. She’d told him she’d had sex only that one time … and he’d torture himself before he hurt her. He was huge, but she needed all of him.

  A shudder ripped through him, but still he eased in, slow … careful … so that even his skin burned with the agony of holding back.

  She began to sing softly, words that were only for him: “The flames stole you, the flames returned you.”

  His muscles went rigid, he was only halfway in her, and he swelled, his cock stretching her. “Ailish! No!”

  She touched the feathers with one hand and Phoenix’s tightly coiled back with the other. “My body burns, my magic weeps. For you.”

  She almost heard the chains of his control snap. Phoenix broke free, his hand on her hip slid beneath her bottom and lifted her. He pushed up on his other arm, made a deep growling noise, and thrust deep and true.

  He filled her up, bowed her back as her entire being opened and took him. He touched her where no one else had, no one else ever could. She felt herself surrendering to him, wanting to be consumed by him. “More,” she cried softly.

  He pulled out and slammed back in, the sensations breaking loose. Dropping to his elbows, he said in a husky voice, “My siren …” Then he ravished her mouth while filling her over and over. His kiss hot, his thrusts deep, her breasts rubbing his chest, it was twining and building to a tremendous force. Energy gathered, pleasure thickened, every thrust added more. She tore her mouth from his, gasping with the intensity of it driving her higher and higher, reaching … almost …

  “Ailish, call him. He’s …,” he groaned, shoving hard into her. “Bring us home.”

  She arched back, her powers splitting, half rushing up her throat, bursting from her in a mating cry: “My light, my color, my phoenix!” Her remaining powers rushed down, circling their hips and fusing as their fierce pleasure broke free.

  She closed her eyes, helpless beneath the waves of hot, pulsing release … and saw a burst of light. Her gray, shadowy world suddenly fractured, then filled with flashes of color—vivid blues and purples surrounded by crackling red, sun-bright yellow, and autumn gold. She could see and feel the colors weaving her and this hunter closer, tighter, forever. Her body shuddered in the ecstasy while her mind basked in the colors.

  Phoenix thrust in deeper, throwing back his head and roaring as he came, pumping and filling her, sending her into another thrall of sensations as the spiraling, twisting colors took shape.

  She saw the phoenix. He lifted his wings, free of the flames, and reached for her. Breathtaking magnificence. Her entire being responded as her hunter held her safe while giving her soul-binding pleasure.

  Finally her body quieted, her magic settled, and the image faded.

  She sighed, fulfilled, satiated … whole.

  Phoenix pulled free and rolled to his side, drawing her into his arms. “You felt it?” His voice was quietly rough.

  Surrounded by the warmth and safety of Phoenix, she knew he meant more than pleasure. He meant that they had joined. “I saw it,” she said. Her world dimmed back to gray shadows, but with his arms around her, immersed in his dark, intense sexual scent, she was okay. “First I saw the amazing blue and purple colors, and fiery red and gold. Just the colors.” She took a breath, the joy almost too much for her to endure. “Then I saw the phoenix. He lifted his wings, telling me he’s home.” She sounded stupid, but she was so overwhelmed that she couldn’t stop telling him. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen colors.”

  He spread his hand on her back. “What are you seeing now?”

  “Nothing, just shadows. But I saw him, I can remember those colors.” It was such a tremendous gift, a shiver went through her.

  Phoenix pressed her back, lifting her chin until she felt the weight of his stare. “When did you see him?”

  She felt silly and strange saying it, yet she wanted to tell him the truth. “I think it was when our souls joined.”

  He slid his hand up to cup her breast. Gently, he brushed the nipple, and his voice went low and husky. “When we orgasmed with me deep inside you.” He shuddered. “Our souls are joined. Let’s see if we can bring him back for you.”

  “Wait—” She held on to his wrist. “What about my siren magic? Is it causing more harm?” She’d unleashed everything she had calling him. She wouldn’t do it again, but—

  He brushed his mouth over hers. “Not anymore. If you can see the phoenix, you have your familiar. I saw the Wing Slayer, Ailish.”

  Hot chills thrilled through her. “Your god? Oh, Phoenix …” She put her hand on his face, trying to feel the joy he must have experienced. She wished she could see his eyes, but this was enough.

  He turned his face to kiss her palm. “He said
once we’re bonded, we’ll fully control your power and all the residue in the atmosphere will die off.”

  Relief and happiness filled her, but before she could ask more questions, Phoenix leaned down to her ear.

  “Let me show you the phoenix. As many times as you wish to see him.”

  Phoenix walked into the condo and stopped. The furniture was all shoved back, and drawings were spread out on the floor. Key wore jeans, his tattoo, and the scent of rage. “I can’t find it.”

  Three cans of Dr Pepper were on the coffee table, along with several empty wrappers of Kit Kat bars. Sketchbooks, pencils, markers, and charcoal littered the floor on the outside of the square.

  Key was on a manic high, fueled by sugar, bloodlust, and a ferocious anger.

  Axel and the others had returned to the condos in late morning, and then Axel had called him, told him to get over here. Phoenix had left Ailish with Dee.

  “Key, you’re spinning.”

  “No, it’s here. The answer is here.” He walked the perfect square. “Liam’s hand, Liam’s knife, Liam’s scar, and then this …” He nudged a drawing with his toe.

  Phoenix crossed his arms and looked down. “A few strands of red hair?”

  “And this …” Key nudged another picture.

  Phoenix saw the intriguing curve of a woman’s shoulder. The lines were sensual and so female that he wished he could see the woman it belonged to. But what made it so disturbing was that Key’s drawings were usually stark with violence. Not something this romantic and deeply feminine.

  “This …,” Key said, pointing to the next drawing. “Does it go on the shoulder?”

  Phoenix frowned. “What is it?” It looked like an abstract of a woman, her arms raised over her head in a circle, breasts full, hips rounded and then tapering to a point, no legs. “A mermaid?”

  “No. It’s her.”

  He looked up, seeing the lines etched around the man’s mouth, the steely-colored agony smoldering in his eyes. “Who?”

  Ignoring the question, Key said, “Look at this!”

  The next picture screamed of brutality and pain. A woman’s flat belly, drawn in soft charcoal, then the bloody wound gaping like a blood-soaked mouth silently screaming. Chills ran up his spine. Phoenix knew the depth of Key’s talent, but when he saw shit like this, it was … harsh. Most of the time, Key’s art kept him sane, but other times, like now, it had a stranglehold on him and tried to drag him into a world of charcoal and blood.

  “Liam did it.”

  It always circled back to his brother. Did Key really have some art-psychic connection with his rogue brother, or was this guilt-and-rage insanity?

  “Can’t save her if I can’t figure out who she is.” He just stared down, his hand twitching at his side. And more astonishing, the huge dragon tattooed across his chest appeared to stare down at it, too.

  He had to stop this now. Phoenix bent over and started gathering up the pages. “You won’t find him if you give in to this craziness! You’re going to lose control and go rogue.”

  “Stop! I have to see what he’s doing!” Key tried to grab his hand.

  Phoenix shoved him away. “Goddammit, Key! You’re letting him win when you let the guilt control you.” He was going to shove some protein down his throat and get him a willing woman to help. He picked up the last paper and set it on the shelf. “Liam’s gone, and you—”

  Key slammed into him.

  Phoenix hit the floor, rolled, and it was on. Key needed to vent his violence, and Phoenix was happy to give him the opportunity. The two of them circled, striking, fighting. Key caught him with a punch that threw him over the couch.

  Phoenix heaved him into the wall.

  Finally, panting and hurting from his knees to his neck, Phoenix pinned Key. The sweating, bleeding hunter laughed, the gray menace sliding back in his gaze to reveal a bit of blue. “Damn, Phoenix, did you have Wheaties for breakfast?”

  Relief eased the stone on his chest. “I could always kick your ass.” He rolled off him and lay on his back. “Shit …” He reached under his back and pulled out a piece of glass. “We broke the table.”

  Key wiped his hand over his eyes. “And one of the legs off the chair.”

  He looked over at Key. “Ailish’s magic set this off?”

  “Seeing you nearly dead. Her magic just added fuel.”

  Phoenix knew Key was getting closer and closer to the curse winning over. He couldn’t lose the only brother he’d ever had. They might not share DNA, but they shared a bond of growing up and surviving. Phoenix would kill Key before he’d let him go rogue.

  “She still handfasted?”

  The urgent worry rose. “Yes. She can’t die. I have to free her.”

  “Her voice … holy shit, I could not believe it. It made the curse burn like a motherfucker, but I couldn’t leave. She fought for you with her magic. It had to hurt her the way her power exploded out. But she never stopped singing.”

  His chest felt strange. He hurt everywhere, but his chest felt hot. “We’re bonded now. Soul mirrors.”

  “Yeah. Smell her on you. You’re getting stronger and faster. Not as good as me, but—”

  Phoenix laughed and rolled to his feet. “That’s an artist for you, always dreaming.”

  Key rose and put his hand on Phoenix’s shoulder. “What about the handfast? She’s got a death sentence on her wrist.”

  Those words hurt more than any punch Key had thrown. “I’m going to kill her mother and free her.” He rubbed his chest. “I can’t lose her.”

  “Phoenix, she might not be savable.”

  “I saw Wing Slayer before Ailish called me back. He told me to fight for her. I’m getting a second chance to be the man my father wasn’t, the man I failed to be when my mother needed me.” He remembered his witch in his arms last night, the way it felt to join his body, and his soul, with her. Ailish became more vital to him with every breath he took. If he let her die … if he had to watch her die … it would destroy him. “She’s my second chance.”

  Phoenix and Key went down to the warehouse after they cleaned up the condo and Key ate real food. Sutton, Axel, Ram, and Linc were looking at a Google map on the big screen.

  Axel glanced over. “Do much damage?”

  Phoenix got out a bottle of water. “Fixed the chair. Coffee table needs witchcraft or a Dumpster.”

  The hawk shifted to Key. “You solid?”

  “As a rock.” He poured out some coffee and added, “Phoenix hangs out with Wing Slayer these days.”

  Everyone turned to him.

  Phoenix should have hit Key harder. “He was stalling my soul, keeping me from making it to Summerland so Ailish could call me back.”

  “Knife?” Linc shoved up out of the chair and walked toward him, his gold eyes narrowing.

  “Smooth silver, no wings.” He pulled out his knife and tossed it to the other hunter.

  Linc caught the blade, examined it, then threw it back.

  Holstering his knife, he ignored the bird getting restless. The creature didn’t like being away from Ailish. But he was still a hunter, and he had a job to do. Perching his ass on the edge of the pool table, he described what happened when he followed that truck and tried to rescue the witch. For the first time, he thought to ask, “What happened to her?”

  “She helped me get you in the truck,” Key said. “Got her out of there. Joe met us and took her to some witches.

  She’s all right.”

  Phoenix took in just how much witch blood and magic Key had been exposed to last night. No wonder he was on edge. Looked fine now, though.

  “Where’d those mini–Death Daggers come from?” Sutton asked. “Carly said you were dying from it.”

  Phoenix had to remember to thank the witches for helping Ailish save him. He told them what he knew: “Wing Slayer said Young is creating clone daggers to guard his lair. Apparently witch blood, and Ailish’s siren voice, was enough to do it. They need to be recharged every few hours
.” He sipped some water, then added, “When Young attacked us, I saw a black mark here”—he gestured to his upper arm—“but I didn’t know what it was.”

  Axel went still as stone, anger cut into every line. “He’s growing those miniature Immortal Death Daggers on his body. What the fuck is he?”

  Ram turned his gaze to Axel. “We don’t know. He was a rogue witch hunter, but now … he’s some kind of demon minion.”

  “Can he still be killed?” Linc asked.

  Axel took a breath. “Yes. He still protects his heart, I saw that.” He relaxed the line of his jaw and gestured to the screen. “Sutton and I flew around the Rogue Cadre hideout once we knew Phoenix would live.”

  That reminded Phoenix. “Thanks for getting the R6 for me.”

  Axel threw him a grin. “You were busy.”

  Snickers cracked the tension.

  As long as they didn’t make a comment about Ailish, he’d let them live.

  Ram said, “Look at all those vehicles parked around that one-story building. There’s a lot of rogues there. It’s maybe a twelve-hundred-foot space. They aren’t all in that building.”

  Sutton looked over at Ram. “Exactly what I thought. That’s why I pulled this map up.” He flicked on his laser pen. “Look at this.” He pointed to a metal plate the size of a barn door.

  “Tank of some kind?” Linc moved closer to study the image.

  Ram’s whole face tightened. “Underground bunker. That’s what Young’s been doing all this time. He had the rogues building a stronghold here in Glassbreakers.” He looked around at all of them. “Between this bunker and his guard of mini–Death Daggers, he’s going to be impossible to get at there.”

  Phoenix wouldn’t soon forget what it felt like to get hit by one of those daggers. “I know this is important,” he said as the bird fidgeted with his urgency. “But Ailish only has ten days.” The resulting silence made his jaw clench.