Night Magic: A Wing Slayer Novel

by Jennifer Lyon

  Sutton pushed his chair back to the console and began typing. “Ailish, with Dee’s help, showed me where the wards are at the Infernal Grounds.”

  The screen they’d been watching shifted to a view of the Infernal Grounds. There was the old chapel where the women had been massacred, accused of being witches by the town preacher. He could see the stone altar. The wards started in a circle from outside the chapel and continued around the altar and farther out to the wilderness area. The wards, according to the marks, were strongest on the chapel side.

  “Ailish said the wards are very real, formed from the screams and terror of the murdered people. The dread and sick feelings are from them. The demon witches burn hallucinogenic herbs to enhance the effect. Ailish guessed that hellhounds patrol when the witches are not there. She said they are raised through a blood spell, pulling dead creatures from the earth.”

  Phoenix ran his hand over his face. “What do you want to bet they killed animals right there to use later?”

  Linc made a furious noise in his chest. “There’s a reason animals instinctively hate and fear demon witches.”

  Phoenix hoped Ailish never brought home a stray kitten or dog when she was growing up, but he had to stay focused. “We need to get through those wards.”

  Axel said, “Darcy and Carla are working with Ailish. This fight with Young and the rogues, it’s long-term. We know that. But Ailish”—he turned to Phoenix—“is our priority. You, me, and Sutton will go tonight, under the cover of darkness, to check out the coven grounds and test the witches’ spell to bring down the wards.”

  His chest eased. Ten days left to free Ailish.

  “I don’t think it’ll work.” Ailish was afraid. She was losing control. Her world had been so simple—break the handfast, kill her mother and the coven, and then the witch karma would kill her.

  Hopefully, then, she’d get into Summerland. She’d get another chance to reincarnate and be a better witch. Do more good.

  Simple. Only her life, and her soul, at stake.

  But now? Phoenix. She was responsible for his soul.

  “You opened your communication chakra last night,” Carla said from the laptop. She and Darcy were projecting their voices through the machine from their homes. “You had to in order to call Phoenix with your Siren’s Song. That’s all you need to project your magic through the cell phone.”

  “I should be at the coven grounds.” Ailish sat in Phoenix’s chair in his home office, working with the two witches to design a spell to bring down the wards. She leaned forward, trying to make them understand. “My mother can do devastating things with her magic. I have to be there, my siren power can stop her.” Look what she’d done to Kyle, to Haley. She had to get these two women to grasp it. Had to make them understand. “I asked my mother once why she was different from me, a demon witch instead of an earth witch.”

  “Did she tell you?” Carla asked.

  “She said it’s because she’s strong and powerful. Earth witches were cowards who scurried in dark corners, hiding like cockroaches. They are butchered by rogues because they are too weak to defend themselves. She might have been born an earth witch, but she wouldn’t scurry in the shadows. She began trying to raise Asmodeus at sixteen and succeeded when she was nineteen. Because she wanted more and more power. She bragged about this, like she had done something really important so young. My mother will stop at nothing to achieve her goals.” She took a breath. “I think I was born a siren because my power can win against her. I screwed up, though. I let her handfast me to a demon. I have to fix that. I have to be at the coven grounds.” Not in the condos with Carla and Darcy.

  “If that’s true, you need to practice,” Darcy said. “We’re just testing tonight. Axel, Sutton, and Phoenix want to see what the wards feel like at the Infernal Grounds. And we’re going to see what happens when we project a spell through the cell phone from the condos.”

  “We don’t even know if the coven will be there,” Carla added. “We’re gathering information. And it’ll give us a chance to see how your ability to enhance magic works now that you have a familiar.”

  There was another problem. “You saw what happened when I used my voice power.” She ran her finger over the edge of the desk. It was nice wood, sanded smooth and stained. Probably dark; dark suited Phoenix.

  “That was your Siren’s Song, your magic reaching out to find Phoenix. The power was incredible.” Carla’s voice floated with sincerity. “There were waves flowing outward, but both Darcy and I felt the instant you bonded. All those excess waves of magic began to dissipate.”

  It felt strange to realize they had felt that very intimate, special moment with Phoenix. This was one of those moments when being blind worked for her … she couldn’t see their expressions. She cleared her throat and said, “That’s what Wing Slayer told Phoenix, too.” But he’d only seen Wing Slayer because of those mini–Death Daggers that her unbounded voice power had helped create.

  “Ailish,” Carla said, “believe it. You’re not causing harm any longer.”

  “Okay, yeah.” She fidgeted, opening the long drawer and fiddling with pens, pencils, paper clips. Bonding with Phoenix gave her control of her power. She wouldn’t accidentally enhance her mother’s magic while trying to stop her. But she didn’t believe it was going to be easy. They weren’t going to be able to cast some spell through a phone, bring down the wards, and have the other hunters kill her mother and the coven.

  Ailish had been given the gift of this power to stop her mother. It was going to have to be her.

  And the witch-karma backlash would kill her.

  Don’t go there, Ailish warned herself. Just believe that if you do the right thing, you’ll get into Summerland. She couldn’t get weak now. Phoenix had given her everything. He’d brought color to her gray world, held her when she’d been afraid to let anyone touch her, and merged their bodies and souls. He’d pulled her out of a vast loneliness into a world of friends willing to fight for one another. He’d given her hope that she could be better.

  In her next life.

  And he would help her get stronger magically as her familiar through the soul-mirror bond.

  It was up to her to be strong emotionally. Up to her to make sure she made the right choices, protected Phoenix’s soul and his heart.

  “What is it, Ailish?” Carla asked gently.

  She looked up, saw the blurry gray blob that was the laptop. “Nothing. I’ll do my part. I’ll learn the spell and—”

  “I know. What I don’t know is what is worrying you.”

  That she’d fail. Grow weak. Do something desperate and foolish, like she’d done when she was sixteen and asked her mom to help her with Kyle. Try to find a way to live a happily-ever-after and end up hurting more people. Or that the coven would get her and torture her and somehow force her to turn. But they didn’t need to know that, so she told them another concern. “Asmodeus and the coven aren’t going to accept me having a soul mirror and familiar. They’re going to do something—”

  “Our familiars warn and protect us,” Darcy broke in. “But with your handfast link, Asmodeus might be able to cause you pain.”

  She waved her hand. “I can handle that.”

  “You don’t have to,” Darcy told her. “Phoenix can take the pain so it won’t interrupt your magic.”

  No! This was what really terrified her. She couldn’t rely on him, not like that. She had to be able to take pain to resist if Asmodeus and his coven got hold of her. And besides … “I won’t be dependent on him for things I can handle.”

  “Because you’re blind?” Carla asked in a nonjudgmental voice. “It doesn’t seem to bother Phoenix.”

  The woman was trying to be kind, Ailish got that. Phoenix had told her that Carla was a psychologist and helped people. But Ailish remembered his words to her in her house the night he’d broken in to check on her. You think I want this? Suddenly leashed to a blind witch who is handfasted to a demon? And then later he’d s
aid, Then I was compelled to come here, had to check to make sure you were okay, like I’m a fucking babysitter. No, he hadn’t wanted this, it had been forced on him.

  Evidently time after time.

  Ignoring the question about her blindness, she said, “We’ve been doing this century after century, haven’t we? The siren is born, the phoenix burns to ash, then she calls him to life. He has no choice.” No wonder Phoenix had resented her so strongly from the first. On some cellular memory level, he had to know she’d done this to him over and over.

  “Before this, the phoenix wasn’t a hunter but an actual bird,” Carla said carefully. “And Phoenix can reject you. The hunter can always reject the witch.”

  Ailish shook her head, wondering how they could say that about Phoenix. “He couldn’t. He tried, but he can’t walk away from a woman in trouble.” So Ailish had to be the one to push him back. Keep a reasonable distance between them. They had to work together with her magic, but they didn’t have to build the personal connection any more than it was. Give Phoenix a chance to step back and see that he couldn’t win this battle. But she was just vain enough to want to leave him with the memory of her as strong and that she did the right thing. The way an earth witch should. “If I die, Phoenix will be okay, right? I mean, nothing happens to him?”

  The silence made her chakras ache. He had to be okay.

  Finally, Darcy said, “The bird will die off, but Phoenix will live on. The bloodlust won’t ever return as the curse is broken for both of you.”

  In other words, he’d be free.

  Phoenix found Ailish up in his media room. He knew she’d done a long workout in his gym. Her hair was still damp from her shower. Now she had a sandwich and some iced tea and was eating while listening to the show.

  He noticed she seemed to like the big suede couch that faced the TV and ignored the two recliners on either side. She wore her usual jeans and black shirt and had her feet up on the coffee table.

  On the TV was one of the judge shows. The case seemed to be a dude who didn’t believe he owed his ex-girlfriend the bail money she had paid to get him out of jail.

  Ailish took a sip of her tea and said, “Stupid chick, putting his bail on your credit card. He can’t have been that good in bed.”

  He walked into the room. “Would you put up bail for me?”

  She jerked her head around. “Didn’t hear you. Where’s Dee?”

  He sat next to her, leaned over, and took a bite of her sandwich. “Peanut butter and jelly?”

  She shrugged. “Easy to eat.”

  Shit, she was killing him. Sitting here listening to a show she couldn’t see, eating something because it was easier to manage. “Let me make you—”

  “No, this is fine.” She took another bite with obvious determination. “Dee?”

  There was probably something wrong with his chest, he decided. He leaned back and stretched his arm out along the back of the couch. Her damp hair brushed his arm, and he fiddled with a heavy lock of it. “I had one of the hunters take her to pack up some things at her house and buy her whatever else she needed. Get her out of the house for a while.”

  “She’s not coming back?” Ailish sounded lost.

  Damn, his chest ached. “Of course she’s coming back. The truth is I wanted some privacy for us.” He was an idiot, taking her friend away from her like that. It hadn’t occurred to him that Ailish would think Dee was abandoning her. He pulled his arm away and said, “I’ll call her. You can talk to her and—”

  “No. She’s free to go where she likes as long as it’s safe. She doesn’t have to tell me or anything.”

  Jesus. He’d packed her off with Linc before giving her a chance to say goodbye to Ailish. What the fuck was wrong with him? “My fault. I said I’d tell you, but I should have had her check with you.”

  She shrugged.

  “I’m sorry, Ailish. I’m used to doing things my way.” He put his arm back behind her head and fingered her hair, watching as the TV lights played over her face. He wanted to tease from her the tension, the hurt she was hiding. “So would you bail me out like the chick on the show?”

  She lifted one shoulder. “Who’s going to put you in a cell?”

  He grinned at that. “Good point. So what’s the dog’s excuse for not paying his girlfriend back the bail money?”

  “Said it was her choice to bail him out. He didn’t hold a gun to her head.”

  Phoenix watched Ailish’s face. She loved this stuff. “Asswipe.”

  “Shh!” She leaned forward as the judge gave her ruling in the woman’s favor, then lectured the winner about picking better boyfriends.

  Ailish smiled. “You tell her, Judge! What the hell was she thinking bailing him out?”

  “Hormones?”

  “Always trouble,” she responded, and reached for her sandwich.

  Phoenix couldn’t stand it, he grabbed the plate. He’d had enough sandwiches from shelters and soup kitchens growing up, and he guessed she’d probably had, too. “You’re not eating this.” He stood up and said, “I’m barbecuing steaks. Come give me a hand.” He turned and walked out.

  He’d just reached the stairs when her magic lit up his stomach and chest, then the plate disappeared from his hand.

  He whipped around to see her standing there, between the couch and the chair, the plate in one hand, sandwich in the other. She took a bite.

  He crossed the room in a second, wrapped his hand around the back of her neck, and tugged her forward.

  She let him.

  “You are so damned hot. No one pushes you around.” It was amazing, freeing, to be able to be himself and know that when he crossed her line, she’d let him know. Fight back. Stand up for herself. He pulled her to his mouth, the plate getting smashed between them. She tasted like peanut butter, sweet jelly, and Ailish. Her magic felt like pure energy, vibrant, sizzling, and he didn’t feel the curse at all. No bloodlust. He lifted his head and said, “I bought steaks on the way home. Thought we’d barbecue, and then we’ll work on your powers.”

  Ailish hooked her bare foot over the rung of the chair. Phoenix had barbecued steaks while she made baked potatoes and corn. She’d used only as much magic as she’d needed.

  She was going to show him that she wasn’t dependent, wasn’t a burden. He didn’t need to worry about her or take care of her. She’d taken care of herself since she’d been sixteen.

  He put the plate in front of her. “Wine at two o’clock,” he said, then sat on her left at the head of the table.

  He kept giving her directions. Chair on your left. Glass on the right side of the sink. Three steps up. Just casually telling her what she needed to know to navigate. It made her stomach clench with frustration. Because you’re blind? Carla had asked. Did even his friends pity him? Stuck with a blind witch who was handfasted to a demon?

  Refusing to dwell on it, she picked up her silverware. Using the fork, she figured out the steak was at six o’clock, potato at nine, and corn at three. Easy enough. Beginning with the steak, she carefully cut a piece and ate it.

  This was the hard way, but she kept at it, determined to prove that she could do this, like a sighted woman or witch. Like Carla and Darcy. Besides, how she looked, the way she ate, it all mattered to her when it hadn’t before.

  Phoenix mattered.

  The idea of him seeing her as a burden when she saw him as huge, virile, and capable really pissed her off. She cut a piece of steak, put it in her mouth, then tried not to choke.

  It wasn’t steak, but the end of the potato—dry, with skin on it. She chewed it up and swallowed, trying not to make a face.

  “What are you doing?”

  She flushed. Had he noticed? Or was there food on her mouth? Spilled into her lap? Had she knocked something over? “What?”

  “You cut a piece of potato off the end and ate it.”

  “So?” She knew she was being stupid, stubborn, prideful.

  “Unbuttered?”

  She lifted her
chin. “Maybe I like it that way.”

  He caught hold of her left hand. “You’re so tense, you’re going to bend the fork and knife. You’re not enjoying your food.”

  Her stomach started to knot. “This is how it is for me.”

  “No, it’s not. You have magic to help you, or me.” He used his thumb to rub her sweaty palm. “What the hell were you going to do when you got to the corn?”

  She admitted, “Slip in a little magic to make it stick to the fork.”

  He kept rubbing her palm. “I’ve seen you eat before. Why are you so worried now?”

  Because she’d never been embarrassed about her blindness before, never felt so inadequate. She hated this. “I don’t need you to be my eyes,” she snapped. “I functioned perfectly fine. Alone.” She lifted her face, looking at his shadow.

  The silence was like a slap. His thumb stopped stroking her palm.

  She sat there feeling the hot humiliation stain her face, neck, and chest, but she couldn’t back down.

  “So it’s okay if I need you, if I was going to die without you. I needed you to sing, use all your power to call me back to life. Then I needed you to spread your legs and trust me to fuck you, and not hurt you, when a goddamned demon has been torturing you with lust for eight years? That’s okay, but I can’t do something as easy as buttering your potato?”

  The fury pouring off him stunned her. It all jumbled together in her head. “I knew you wouldn’t hurt me.” No, no, no! Not what she should have said.

  “I’m thinking about hurting you right now,” he said, his thumb brushing across her palm once more.

  It was so much easier when it was just her! “I don’t know how to do this.” His hand anchored her as she tried to find her way through all these new feelings and fears. She wanted to protect him, protect herself, and at the same time, she craved his approval, craved him. She could only see his shadow, but the feel of his hand wrapped around hers, his thumb skimming along her palm, made her feel safe. “It’s always been just me I had to worry about. Now …”