Once Bitten (Shadow Guild: The Rebel)

by Linsey Hall

  Together, we strode toward the empty spaces in the lineup. My heartbeat thundered in my ears as we walked, and I prayed that no one was watching too closely. The cloaks covered our faces, but if someone looked from the right angle, they might penetrate our disguises.

  Once we were in place, I surreptitiously looked around. It was nearly impossible to make out anyone’s features, and no one looked like the leader. Was the necromancer with the victim now?

  Would he bring her out?

  The ground began to vibrate, and I stiffened.

  Magical signatures filled the air, sparking through the space. There were all sorts of scents and sounds, tastes and feelings. Most of them were bad—the smell of burning rubber, the taste of rotten fruit, the smell of sewage. It felt prickly and evil, like a million ants crawling along my skin.

  But it was the smell of death that made my skin grow cold.

  The necromancer was coming.

  19

  Carrow

  Temple Church vibrated with power. All around, people raised their hands. Immediately, I mimicked the gesture. The magic flared even stronger, and I realized that these people were feeding their power into the air.

  I shared the briefest glance with the Devil, and he shook his head faintly.

  Did he mean that I shouldn’t try to mimic what they were doing? I wasn’t even sure if I could push my magic into the air. And if I did, would they be able to sense that I wasn’t the person I was supposed to be?

  A low chant began, each person in the room humming notes that made the hair raise on my arms. Magic surged toward the altar, swirling around the great stone platform. Their voices rolled like thunder, vibrating in my chest.

  The air shimmered, and a woman appeared, lying still on the dais. She appeared unconscious—please don’t be dead—and her hands and legs were bound. Next to her, a man’s form fizzled into existence.

  Unlike the others’ cloaks, his was black. The magic rolling off him made the other participants seem almost nice in comparison.

  The necromancer.

  Rage seethed through me at the sight of him. He was the real reason Beatrix had been murdered. The reason this other poor woman was on the slab. He raised his hands and began to chant in a rumbling voice. His magic rolled over me, and my stomach pitched. I felt like I was suddenly swimming in acid.

  How the hell were we going to fight all these people? We were drastically outnumbered.

  But that woman…

  I couldn’t look away from her.

  She didn’t stand a chance unless we intervened, and it was only going to get more difficult as time went on.

  I drew an unsteady breath, trying to brace myself, and murmured to the Devil, “We need to attack. Now.”

  Quick as a snake, he raised his wrist to his lips and whispered a command. I caught the word now. The shifters were coming. I pressed my hand to my comms charm and repeated the word, alerting my friends.

  The Devil attacked without warning. He slammed his fist into the stone slabs that made up the floor, sending a reverberation of power through the tiles. Somehow, it avoided me, but every other person in the room lost their balance and collapsed to the ground.

  Only the necromancer remained standing, and his chants grew louder.

  His followers scrambled to right themselves, but the Devil was in motion. He charged the nearest one, landing a devastating punch that slammed the cloaked figure against the wall. His speed was incredible, and he was already moving to the next.

  I plunged my hand into the bag at my side, drawing out a potion bomb. I had no idea which one it was, but they were all designed for this kind of fight. I hurled the glass orb at the necromancer. It flew through the air, smashed into an unseen barrier, and disintegrated.

  Shit!

  The necromancer raised his hands over the woman’s body and kept chanting. Two bloody organs appeared, floating over her chest.

  The heart and liver from the other victims.

  Fear and revulsion surged through me.

  As I fumbled in my bag for another potion bomb, the two organs began to glow. Magic swirled around them, dark and glittery, transforming them into something else, but what?

  The Devil moved with deadly efficiency around the room. The other cloaked figures staggered up, calling on their magic and turning it against him. Fireballs whizzed toward me. The Devil intercepted them, taking the hits without so much as faltering. He seemed to absorb the attacking magic, growing stronger with every blow.

  The Devil’s security team and my friends burst into the church, spreading out to attack. Magic flashed as the shifters transformed into powerful beasts—a bear, a lion, a tiger, and three wolves. In the flash of an eye, Quinn transformed into a massive golden panther. He roared and lunged for a cloaked figure, while Mac drew her sword and charged another. The eight of them moved quickly, going for the supernaturals who fought back with magic that flashed and boomed through the church.

  Eve’s glittering wings appeared behind her, and she launched herself into the air, flying high as she raised her hands and shot lightning from her palms. She aimed for the necromancer, but her attack was deflected by the invisible shield that protected him.

  In front of him, the glowing organs had shrunk in size, combining to form a shining red jewel. Magic radiated from it, dark and terrifying. Slowly, the gem lowered toward the woman.

  Triumph radiated from the necromancer. The gem was a weapon. If it reached her, this was all over.

  Damn it. We had to get past that shield.

  The Devil seemed to agree. As the battle raged around us, he charged the necromancer. He moved like a steam train, so fast and powerful that he plowed through the barrier. Magic exploded from him, sending me flying, and I crashed against the wall in a flare of pain.

  By the time I got back to my feet, he had the necromancer by the neck. Both were on their knees, and much of the Devil’s skin was blackened by an oily substance.

  I sprinted for them. A red-cloaked figure nearly collided with me, but Quinn shoved his massive panther body between me and danger.

  I reached the Devil in time to hear him demand, “Make it stop.”

  To the left of him and the necromancer, the glowing gem lowered closer to the woman. By then, it was only half a meter above her chest.

  “Make it stop,” the Devil demanded. “Cease this magic.”

  “It can’t be stopped,” the necromancer hissed, blinking his eyes frantically to avoid the Devil’s mind control power.

  His hood had partially fallen away, revealing a pale-skinned man with sandy hair and burning black eyes. The Devil’s face was twisted with pain and effort, and the black substance that covered his arms and chest seemed to be steaming, as if it were eating away at his skin.

  Necromancer magic, and it was hurting him.

  Killing him?

  Something twisted in my chest—a weakness. Our connection was flickering, as if his life force was fading. Panic flared, worry screaming through me.

  The necromancer’s words were thick with triumph. “It is Orion’s Heart, and once it is inside her, it will be complete.”

  The Devil’s hand tightened on his neck, the knuckles turning white. “Stop the spell.”

  The necromancer’s eyes began to fog.

  Yes. The Devil’s mind control was working. He would force him to stop this.

  But the necromancer shook his head like a dog, as though shaking off the Devil’s control. “Never,” he said through gritted teeth. “My work here is done.”

  My skin chilled at his satisfaction.

  He raised a hand, his dark cloak flapping around his arm, and slammed something into his mouth.

  Immediately, his skin began to turn to ash. It looked like something out of a movie as his body crumbled and flaked away.

  The Devil lurched back, his movements slow and sluggish. Weaker.

  Holding the necromancer had grievously wounded him.

  As for the necromancer, he’d turned into a
pathetic pile of ash.

  Dead. No.

  Our answers were gone with him.

  I spun toward the woman on the altar, the blood roaring in my ears. The necromancer’s terrible gem was closing in, drawn to her still form. It was only centimeters away now. Asleep, she looked so peaceful and pretty, just a girl who had no idea that her entire life was at stake.

  Terror for her opened a hole in my chest. I couldn’t bear to watch her die, a victim to dark magic and evil. And what would happen if the necromancer’s spell was complete?

  We couldn’t afford to find out.

  I reached for the stone, but it was surrounded by flames. I screamed and jerked my hand backward. Too hot to touch.

  I tried to push her off the altar, away from the stone, but she was protected by the same charm. The dark magic burned my hands fiercely, and I yanked them back. Damn it. Damn it. There had to be a way to stop this.

  The Devil was incapacitated. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see him struggling to stand. All around, the fight raged. My friends were fighting to get to me, but there was no time.

  I lunged for the pile of ashes that had once been the necromancer, grabbing his charred cloak. Images flashed in my mind, sickening and terrible, turning my stomach. My gift was scrambling inside me, trying to find valuable information from the remnants of the man who had created this disaster.

  Only the one who holds the stone can control it.

  The message flashed in my mind, clear as day. I had to hold the stone.

  The memory of the burning made my stomach lurch, but I ignored it. I lunged upright, moving for the altar.

  “No.” The Devil’s voice was weak. He’d made it to his feet, but he was being poisoned by the black oil that covered him. “Let me.”

  I ignored him, stretching my hand out for the gem, determined to tear it away before it reached the girl.

  Pain like I’d never known shot through my hand and up my arm. Tears stung my eyes, and sweat broke out on my skin. I pushed my hand harder, forcing it through the thick, agonizing air. It was like shoving my hand through a container full of glass.

  A warm, solid weight pressed against my shin. I glanced down, spotting Cordelia. The little raccoon had appeared, gluing herself against my side. Warmth and strength flowed from her into me, giving me more power.

  I pushed harder, and a scream tore from my throat as my hand closed around the gem.

  Falling away, I landed on my back with the orb in my hand, then panted as I blinked up at the ceiling. The pain had stopped. My head spun as I sat up. On the altar, the girl lay still. I opened my palm. The red stone I held glowed with a faint light.

  “What did you do?” The Devil’s voice was a croak.

  He stood before me, his face pale.

  Then he collapsed to his knees.

  I scrambled toward him, clutching the stone in my hand. “Are you okay? What’s wrong with you?”

  “I’m—” The words couldn’t escape him.

  Eve landed next to us, her glittery wings folding back into her body. “He’s been poisoned by the necromancer.” She dug a hand into one of her many pockets and pulled out a vial. She opened it, dumped the contents into her hand, and blew the powder on the Devil.

  It coated him, and the oil began to disappear.

  “Will that fix him?” I demanded.

  In front of me, the Devil swayed, hardly able to stay upright.

  “I think it’s too late.” Eve frowned, confusion flickering in her eyes. “The oil has sucked the life from him.”

  “But it’s gone now. The oil is gone.” Her powder had absorbed it all, leaving him looking clean and new. And pale. So damned pale. Even his eyes looked almost colorless.

  “So is most of his life force.”

  “But—” I searched his face. Had he known this would happen when he’d blasted through the necromancer’s protective shield and grabbed him?

  Yes.

  Somehow, I knew the answer was yes.

  And I also knew how to fix him. My gaze flicked to his mouth, to his fangs that were now retracted.

  Could I do this?

  Yes.

  The answer was yes.

  I moved toward him, still gripping the gem that I didn't understand. Quickly, I wrapped my arms around him and bared my neck. His head dipped toward me as if he couldn’t help it, a low groan tearing from his throat. But I didn’t feel his teeth.

  “Bite me,” I demanded.

  “Are you sure?” His voice was rough.

  “You’ll die without it, right?”

  “I—will.”

  “Then bite me.”

  His lips pressed to my skin, and a shiver of fear and desire rushed through me. Was I really doing this?

  His lips parted, and the air around us seemed to fog, filling with dark smoke. It formed a barrier between us and the world. I heard my friends cry out in concern, but I could no longer see them. Soon, I could no longer hear them.

  We were in a cocoon, far away from them. The Devil’s magic protected us from the world so that no one could see us.

  His warm breath brushed across my skin, and I shuddered. My heart raced, anticipation overwhelming. When his fangs pierced me, pleasure exploded. I moaned, moving closer to him until my chest was pressed to his.

  20

  The Devil

  Carrow’s arms wrapped around me, pulling me close as I drew on her neck. The feel of her beneath my hands, beneath my fangs, was enough to send my heart into overdrive.

  She tasted so damned sweet. Everything I’d tasted since I’d been turned had been so damned dull.

  But her…

  Her scent swirled around me, lavender and something so intrinsically her that I couldn’t get enough of it. The heady aroma was so much more powerful now.

  I wrapped my hand around her waist and clutched her close, wanting to feel every part of her. It was unlike anything I’d ever experienced—even before I’d been turned.

  The protective shield of my magic hid us from prying eyes, and I wanted more than this. I wanted to pull her clothes off, to taste her. I wanted to bury the years of loneliness in her. I was a seething mess of want.

  Anything. I’d give anything to have her.

  Beneath my lips, she tilted her head and moaned. The pleasure in the sound shot through me, and I clutched her closer. The connection between us surged, and it was impossible not to think of what the Oracle had said.

  She would thaw me.

  Was it possible?

  Was the myth true?

  With the taste of her blood on my tongue, it was impossible not to think so. Impossible not to believe it.

  But the Oracle had been keeping secrets the day she’d come to see me—I could feel it.

  “Grey.”

  The sound of my name on her lips made me shudder. I drew deeper on her neck, feeling my strength return.

  Stop.

  I had to stop.

  With every bit of strength I gained, she lost some. She’d recoup it eventually, but if I drained her, she’d die.

  With her taste sweet on my lips, I withdrew my mouth.

  “Don’t stop,” she murmured, sounding half out of her mind.

  “I must.” I licked my lips, cleaning them of any trace of her, and cupped her face. “We have to stop.”

  Her eyes fluttered opened, and she looked at me.

  Holy fates, her eyes were beautiful. Brilliant green. And her hair. An impossible gold.

  Color.

  I could see in color. Not just the faint shades of color that I’d been able to see before, but full blown everything. And the scents…

  There were so many of them. I could taste the freshness of the air. And my skin felt more sensitive.

  The Oracle had been correct.

  She was the one who could make me whole again.

  A thrill ran through me, followed by confusion and even fear. How the hell was this real?

  “Are you better?” The strength was returning to her vo
ice.

  “I am. Thank you.” I shoved aside thoughts of fate, forcing myself to my feet. I pulled her up alongside me, banishing the cloud of dark mist that hid us from her friends and my security force.

  As the mist cleared, it revealed her three companions standing around us, anger and worry on their faces. Behind them, my security force was working on binding the bodies of the necromancer’s faithful. The Council of Guilds would owe me for this one.

  They’d owe Carrow, too, though she didn’t know it yet.

  She gave me one last look, her gaze searching, then turned and hurried to the body of the woman on the slab. I could feel the life force inside the victim, and with any luck, she would have no memory of this.

  Quinn strode up to me, back in his human form. His brow was creased with worry, and his eyes flickered with anger.

  “Is there a problem?” I raised an eyebrow.

  “I don’t like what you did with her there.”

  “Too bad, because it is done.” I so badly wanted to say that Carrow had enjoyed it, but I wouldn’t reveal that information. It felt too personal. Too hers.

  “Be careful.”

  The shifter’s voice echoed with power, and I grinned. “You want her.”

  “And you don’t?”

  “Of course I do.” I wasn't afraid to admit it.

  His lips twisted. “I mean it. I’ll be watching you. If you hurt her…”

  “I understand.” If it came down to a fight between us, I would win. But it wouldn’t be easy. And it would cost me.

  More likely than not, it would come down to a fight between us. Because I would hurt her. If I pursued her, I would hurt her. It was the only thing I was capable of. My past made that abundantly clear.

  Disgusted with myself, I turned from the shifter and looked at Carrow. She was taking the woman’s pulse and speaking with Mac and Eve. It was difficult to turn away from the sight of her. With my ability to see color returned, all I wanted to do was stare at her.

  But I forced myself away. I was good at forcing myself away from the things I wanted. There was work to be done, after all, and I needed to begin. Getting the police off Carrow’s back wouldn’t be hard now that we had the real murderer. With a bit of mind control, the hired gun could be convinced to confess to his crimes. I just had to make sure it was all airtight.