Night Magic: A Wing Slayer Novel

by Jennifer Lyon

  Nothing worked.

  Ailish had to pay.

  But each night, when Phoenix finally fell into an exhausted sleep, she slipped out of bed.

  Tonight she made it outside without waking Phoenix. Sitting quietly, she felt her magic stir at her pelvis and begin to rise. The energy flowed up her spine.

  Then she felt him behind her. He sat down, lifted her, and placed her on his lap. Every night the same thing.…

  He knew what she searched for. She was trying to reach her knowledge chakra, trying to see if the Ancestors would find a way to accept her.

  Or if she’d exist in blackness until she was no more, until she became nothing.

  Ailish leaned back against his chest as her powers spun up and down her spine. Her fifth chakra opened, then her sixth. She pushed and pushed. Her body swelled with the magic, her nipples full, her core growing damp. Her skin grew so sensitive that the slightest breeze felt sexual.

  She felt Phoenix’s body react, but he simply held her, supported her.

  Until she cried out in frustration, her last chakra out of reach. They didn’t know if it was the handfast blocking her, or fear of finding out that she wouldn’t get into Summerland.

  Then he’d make love to her, vowing he wouldn’t let her go. He’d find a way, any way, to save her.

  DAYS REMAINING ON HANDFAST CONTRACT: THREE

  Ailish was worried about Phoenix. He was angry and blaming himself. Driven to discover a solution to save her.

  Then today he’d grown quiet and told her he wanted to take her on a ride with his newest motorcycle. They’d gone to the cemetery, and he’d shown her his mother’s grave. He’d told her stories about Sheri, and she could feel his love for the woman who’d fought so hard to save him.

  They were sitting on the grass next to his mother’s resting place. Holding her hand, he said, “While I’ll always wish I’d come home when she called me, I understand now that she was protecting me. That my mother loved me enough to die for me. If I hadn’t met you, I’d never have known that she wasn’t crazy. They’d told her to hurt and kill me, yet she never did.”

  Her throat tightened and her chest burned. Phoenix was finally forgiving himself.

  “She was strong. I know that now. She was …” He squeezed her hand. “I don’t know how to say it.”

  “A loving and protective mother?” Ailish asked. Not the cold, ambitious, cruel creature her mother had been.

  “Yes.” He put his arm around her. “That was her.”

  She hated that she was doing this to him, that she’d leave him. But she saw now what this was about. Phoenix was coming to terms with the truth—there wasn’t going to be a happy ending. But just as he’d stopped blaming himself for failing his mother, he wasn’t going to blame himself for Ailish.

  She wore the handfast binding, not him. It was her mistake, her transgression, and she had to pay. Phoenix couldn’t save her from that. But while they wouldn’t get a happy ending, they’d had happy moments. She was grateful for those; she absorbed them and held them close.

  She leaned against his side. “Your mother would be proud of you.” How could she not be? Look how he’d grown, look at the good he did. Killing rogues, saving earth witches. Caring about people.

  He dropped his face into her hair and said in a low voice thick with resolve, “I hope so.”

  She felt an uneasy shiver slide down her spine. But before she could put her finger on why, he pulled her to her feet and they rode home with Phoenix showing her the scenery. When they pulled into the garage, he told her that he felt her head starting to throb and she needed to open her eyes. She got off, he set the bike on the kickstand, put his arm around her, and they walked into the house together.

  “Surprise!” a chorus of voices shouted.

  Ailish jerked in shock. “What?”

  “Look, sweetheart.” He walked with her to the dining room table.

  She closed her eyes and the images flooded her mind. The entire room had blue and purple streamers and balloons. In the middle of the table was a massive chocolate cake, surrounded by at least half a dozen gifts. The room itself was filled with people: Axel, Darcy, Sutton, Carla, Key, Ram, Linc, Joe, Morgan, and Dee. “A party?”

  “Happy birthday,” Phoenix said softly from her side.

  “But it’s not my birthday yet.” She still had a couple more days with him. And that uneasy feeling came back.

  “That’s why it’s a surprise,” he teased her. “We’ve been planning this for days.”

  Her worry disappeared. He had planned a party for her. She’d never had a party, never had a cake. Never had this kind of feeling, so full and happy. She didn’t know what to say.

  “Happy birthday, Ailish.”

  She recognized that voice! “Haley?” Using Phoenix’s sight, she looked at the woman she hadn’t been able to see in eight years. Her thick blond hair was cut in soft layers, her blue eyes had faint lines around them, but they were still the same sharp bullshit detectors. In the next second, she saw and felt herself being hugged by the taller woman.

  Haley stepped back. “Key tracked me down. He and Sutton flew me back for your birthday.” She took her hand. “I should have been here sooner. I just … sometimes …”

  Ailish knew Haley had her own demons. Most days, her entire life was one hundred percent invested in her shelter and runaways, but once a year or so, Phoenix had explained, she found a guy and disappeared. “Haley …” She squeezed her hand. “I told you to leave. I didn’t want my mother to get a second chance to hurt or kill you. But over the years you have helped me. I always knew you were there. Always.”

  “Come and sit,” Dee called out from the table. “We’ll open presents, grill hamburgers, have cake and ice cream.”

  She walked to the chair Dee had pulled out, Phoenix by her side, and sank into it.

  “Open mine first,” Dee said, clearly excited. She was living there in the house with them, taking care of all the mundane things that neither she nor Phoenix cared about. The woman put the gift into her hands.

  Phoenix pulled a chair up next to her so he could show her the images. It was a big emerald green bag, with mountains of tissue paper. She put her hand in the bag and drew out something soft and square buried in more tissue paper. Suddenly she was desperate to see it and tore at the wrapping.

  Phoenix laughed.

  Ailish uncovered it. A pillow. Phoenix showed her the front of it. “Oh, Dee …” She couldn’t believe it. She ran her fingers over the stitching of a phoenix rising from the flames. “Did you do this?” She was going to embarrass them all if she cried.

  Dee shifted from foot to foot next to her. “Yes. I wanted you to always have your phoenix with you.”

  Oh God. Ailish jumped up and hugged her. Then she hugged her pillow. “I’ve never had a friend like you.” She’d been so sure Dee would want to get as far away from her as possible after her experience with the coven.

  “You do now,” Dee said.

  She opened the rest of the gifts, all of them sweet or funny. They had hamburgers, then they teased her that she’d never be able to blow out the candles on her cake. “Please,” she told them, “I have magic.” Silently, she wished for the one thing she wanted more than anything—that Phoenix would be all right. Dee had sworn she’d stay with him and take care of him. She just wanted his heart to heal and be happy. It was that deep love for him, not her magic, that helped her blow out every single candle.

  She was exhausted. They were all sitting in a stupor around the demolished cake, sipping coffee or tea, when her phone rang, surprising her. She had no idea who it could be, since the people who usually called her were in the room with her. “Hello?”

  “Ailish, it’s Kyle.”

  Her stomach tightened with her old regret at involving him with her mother and putting him in extreme danger. “Kyle, what’s wrong?” Her mother was dead, he should be safe.

  “Nothing is wrong. One of your friends called me in Arizona to let
me know it was safe to come home. I’m back to work and life feels normal again. It all seems like a bad memory.”

  She took a breath, trying to accept that she’d done the best she could, but to Kyle, the boy she had once loved, she’d always be a bad memory. “You’ll be fine now. Safe. I’m sorry—”

  “Ailish,” he cut her off, “I called to tell you thank you. I was angry, scared, I had no control over what was happening, and I lashed out at you. You saved Dee’s life at my house, and probably mine since I ran out there. You were trying to protect me. Thank you for that.”

  Her stomach eased. Phoenix’s hand slid to her nape, caressing gently. He could hear the conversation. She answered, “You’re welcome, Kyle. I hope you have a happy life.”

  “Good. You, too, Ailish. Bye.”

  She hung up the phone and set it on the table. While the others were talking, she said to Phoenix, “Did you ask him to call me?”

  “No.” He rubbed her neck. “He called because he wanted to. He was never good enough for you, and I still want to kill him on principle, but he’s not a bad guy.”

  She knew he wasn’t lying; he couldn’t lie to her with their mind link. She smiled with relief that she’d made her peace with Kyle. He’d been important to her once, and she was glad that he knew she’d tried to make up for dragging him into a nightmare. She picked up her tea and turned to compliment Dee on the delicious cake.

  Phoenix slipped his hand from her nape, got up, and walked out. A few minutes later, he came back into the dining room. “There’s one more gift, Ailish. My gift to you.”

  She turned to him, seeing only shadows. “But you’ve given me everything,” she said. She didn’t need a gift from him.

  He crouched by her chair and put the box in her hand. “Close your eyes so you can see. Open this.”

  The image formed. A black velvet box about the size of her hand. She touched the soft velvet, then gently pried open the lid.

  Inside, nestled on more velvet, was a pair of silver phoenix wings curved into a bracelet. Her throat closed up.

  Phoenix reached into the box, took the bracelet in his large fingers, and opened it with the hinge between the wings. Then he snapped it around her right wrist. “You’re an earth witch, and you should have a witch book, like Darcy and Carla. Now wherever you go …” He trailed off, his voice rough. His fingers tightened around her arm. “The Ancestors will know you’re an earth witch. My earth witch. Mine.”

  DAYS REMAINING ON HANDFAST CONTRACT: TWO

  Phoenix watched as Morgan showed Ailish the baby’s room. He stood at the door and looked at whatever Morgan pointed to so Ailish could see through him.

  But he wasn’t listening to their excited chatter. He was thinking. Praying. Begging. He couldn’t lose her. He’d sworn to his god that he’d fight for her.

  Die for her.

  A soft hand on his shoulder. “I got an answer,” Darcy said softly.

  “Ailish, Morgan, I’m going to check in with Key.”

  They waved him off. Morgan had Ailish’s hand on her belly as the baby kicked or hiccuped or something.

  He turned and followed Darcy out to the hallway and down to the condo he used. They went inside.

  Darcy’s shoulders were tense, her brown eyes worried, and her silvery witch-shimmer dim. “Carla and I both opened our knowledge chakras and we confirmed with the Ancestors. Killing her mother wasn’t enough to break the contract as we’d hoped. Only Ailish’s death will break it.”

  “I know that part,” he said, impatient. Ailish was his siren, his beauty. She’d called out his bird and claimed his heart. She’d told him she loved him with a courage that left him breathless. God, he loved her. She had healed him, taught him that love was more powerful than any other force.

  Darcy touched his arm. “You are right. Since your souls are melded together as one, if you die for her, Asmodeus has to accept it. The handfast will break.”

  “How do I do it?” He wasn’t going to screw this up. He had one chance, one opportunity, to free his witch, to give her the love she deserved.

  Darcy’s face paled, her witch-shimmer graying. “The eternal fires of hell.”

  He shuddered, the memory roaring over him of flames eating him. “Can you send me to the flames in the Underword?”

  “No. I won’t attempt to open a gateway. Earth witches banish demons, not open gateways in ley lines.”

  He wanted to slam his fist into the wall. “I’m saving her life, keeping her from the darkness! You don’t know …”

  He thought of her struggling each night to open her knowledge chakra, but the fear … Jesus, it smelled like a dying flower, too sweet and slightly acerbic. Sometimes she woke from a dream, shaking, and he could slip into her mind to see her being chased through endless darkness by hellhounds. He’d pull her in his arms and vow to save her.

  And he would. Wing Slayer had told him, Fight for her, die for her, whatever it takes.… That was real love. His mother had fought and died for him, and now, at this moment, he fully understood. She had loved him that much. He could do no less for the woman he loved. He hoped his mother would be as proud of him as he was of her.

  He saw the tears running down Darcy’s face and reached out, hugging her. “Don’t cry. Thank you, Darcy. I know you didn’t want to tell me.” He held her tight, Axel’s witch, who had brought them all the hope of a soul mirror. She had been their first ray of light.

  “This isn’t fair to either of you.”

  “Just don’t burden her with it. Please. She’s suffering and trying to hide it.”

  She didn’t answer.

  He knew Axel had slipped into the room, drawn by Darcy’s pain. Pulling back from her, he looked down into her face. “Ailish filled my world with magic, Darcy. I was born to die for her. I have to free her now, so that in another time, another place, she can sing me back to life.”

  Axel reached out and tugged her back to his chest while looking up at Phoenix. “Darcy can’t send you to the Underworld, but Wing Slayer is half demon. He grew up in the Underworld. As your god, he can take you there.”

  DAYS REMAINING ON HANDFAST CONTRACT: ONE

  Phoenix made love to her again and again, trying to fill his soul.

  Finally she slept, wearing only his wings wrapped around her wrist and that handfast binding.

  His heart filled with lead as he left their room. Each step was painful, but he was resolved. For this, his wore his leathers, his boots, and his knife. In the backyard, he knelt in the wet grass and called out his wings.

  They burst from his back, the bird as determined as Phoenix.

  He took out his knife, sliced his hand, and watched the blood well up. Then he bowed his head and said, “A blood pact is absolute, broken only by death. Wing Slayer, I beg you. Let me die for Ailish.”

  The atmosphere changed, the scent of damp grass giving way to metal and flowers, the metal very masculine, almost harsh and unforgiving. The flowers … that was ethereal, as if the scent floated with him but wasn’t his. Raising his head, he saw the waning moonlight gleam off Wing Slayer’s massive wings. They were a darkened bronze, though, not the shimmering gold. Anger?

  “You knew I had to die to free her.”

  “I hoped killing her mother would work, but I know Asmodeus weaves his contracts tightly.” The god’s voice thundered through him with a deep bass vibration. “This decision had to be yours and only yours.”

  What he was going to do would hurt Ailish. Her love for him was … infinite and humbling. “Can you make this easier on her? Help her accept that this is what I chose to do from love?” Ailish had never had that kind of love.

  “I can impress your love on her, but I won’t take away her feelings. Just as your mother deserved your grief, you deserve hers.”

  Overwhelming sorrow choked him. Separating from Ailish hurt, leaving her hurt. He wanted to ask his god if they’d find each other again, but he didn’t. He needed to just believe that they would, believe he would hear h
er voice call him to life once more. He had to. It was the only way he could leave her. “Allow me to pay the price to break her handfast. Allow me to make reparations to her Ancestors. I belong to her, we share a soul, and I choose to give my life to free her.”

  The scent of metal heated until it smelled like a soldering iron. The air crackled with electricity. The grass wilted beneath him. “You’ll burn in the eternal fires of hell, accepting the pain of a slow death. Because you are a witch hunter with extraordinary powers of healing, Asmodeus will stop the flames and revive you again and again, and try to get you to recant your willingness to die for Ailish.”

  His fear of burning was bone-deep. But his love for Ailish was timeless. He had only one question: “Will this work? Will it free her?”

  Wing Slayer nodded, his gold eyes brightening. “Yes. With your souls joined, it fulfills the contract.”

  Relief mixed with his love and regret. “I won’t recant.” He looked at his god. “Ailish is worthy.”

  Wing Slayer reached out with his right hand and clasped Phoenix’s cut hand. It was like being struck by lightning: A bolt raced through him, traveling his nerves, his arteries, and through the very marrow of his bones. Every cell in his body recognized his god and bowed to his will.

  “My hunter. Your sacrifice is accepted.” Holding up Phoenix’s knife, he added, “Wear my wings on your blade. My mark of pride in my hunter.” With his other hand, he passed the knife to Phoenix.

  Taking the blade, he looked at the silver hilt imprinted with the wings of the phoenix. The centuries-old symbol of their god accepting them. Wing Slayer gave it to him now so he would know his soul was safe. So he would go into the flames with his god’s approval and pride. He didn’t know how to thank him, so he silently slid the knife into the holster at his back.

  When Phoenix released the knife, his world shattered. He had been kneeling on the grass beneath the moonlight, talking to Wing Slayer.