BLOOD MAGIC

by Jennifer Lyon

  Axel pulled out the colander of noodles from the pan, drained them, and poured them into a large bowl. “Ley lines?”

  “They are power points where earth's power gathers. Where the sea meets the earth, old graveyards where life meets death … they just are. The magic comes in bringing the power of the earth from the ley lines up through me to meet the pull of the moon, then I add to that the power of the Ancestors. I focus all that power on Hannah and chant for healing.”

  Axel filled two plates with spaghetti, sauce, and bread, then placed them on the bar. “Sit and eat.”

  Darcy sat on a bar stool, rested her bare feet on the rungs, and picked up the fork. She was oddly calm about the magic. It was Axel that had her worried. How had she come to care about and need the man who'd kidnapped her? If she was right, the curse had ended up giving him the power to destroy her.

  “How dangerous is this spell?”

  “To Hannah?” She sipped some wine and went on. “Moderately dangerous. I don't think any more harm will come to her.”

  Axel set his fork down and caught her chin to force her to look at him. His green gaze fastened on her eyes. “To you. While you were doing that transfer earlier, I'm pretty sure a demon tried to appear, but it seemed to be unable to fully materialize.”

  She dropped her bread, causing spaghetti sauce to splatter onto her white shirt. Cold fear coiled deep in her gut. “You're sure?”

  “Something was there. I could only see a shadow in the doorway, but it had three heads. I think it was As-modeus. Then the door slammed and seemed to break its connection to us. I'm not sure how.”

  She shivered. “I felt you tell me to shut the door.” She frowned, thinking about it. “Maybe I heard you say 'shut it out,’ so I think I did it. But would that keep a demon out?”

  He let go of her face and picked up a napkin to wipe away the spaghetti sauce on her shirt. “My hawk screeched at it. Maybe that warned off the shadowy bastard.”

  “I heard that.” She took the napkin from his hand. Her powers rushed to the places he touched, making her feel odd. She wiped at the sauce stains, then realized she had magic. Passing her hand over the stains, they disappeared.

  “You'll be in more danger when you do this spell, won't you?”

  She looked up into his eyes. “I'll use a consecrated salt circle. I think the salt will protect me. Maybe. Either way, Hannah is worth the risk.”

  Axel turned away, picked up his fork, and ate. After a couple minutes, he said, “I will be there when you do the spell to protect Hannah and you both.”

  She needed him there, so that worked for her. “Okay.”

  He lifted his right hand to slide it beneath her still-drying hair and caress the back of her neck. “I won't stop protecting you once Hannah's well. You're not alone any longer.”

  She dropped her head, staring at the remains of dinner. He cared about her, truly cared. Made her feel like she belonged. The elusive love and acceptance she had always craved was within her reach.

  But she didn't know if it was real. Or a bond forced on him by a decades-old curse that she'd accidentally completed.

  “Darcy.”

  God. She lifted her head, unable to resist his call. She looked into his face.

  The face of the man she'd fallen in love with. Her heart beat simply to hear his voice. Feel his touch. She'd sacrifice everything for him. Even his love. “What?”

  Before he could say anything, Eve's voice shattered the moment. “Axel! Hannah's seizing!”

  He ripped his hand from Darcy, leapt off the bar stool, and raced to his sister's room. The small light by the bed showed Eve holding Hannah's shoulders while her body convulsed. Her eyes were rolled back in her head, her jaw was locked, and sharp guttural noises came from her throat. He hurried to the other side of the bed, fighting a dark rage that made him want to hunt down and rip apart the demon witch who'd done this to Hannah.

  Darcy burst into the room. “Move!” She edged Eve up toward Hannah's head, threw back the covers, and shoved up his sister's nightshirt. She put her hand on her small chest, right in the center, and closed her eyes.

  The air was sucked out of the room, as if all the molecules rushed to Hannah in such a hurry that they left a vacuum. Energy danced around Darcy's hand like dust mites in a beam of sunlight. Darcy jerked and nearly stumbled.

  Axel reached across his sister and grabbed her shoulders to steady her.

  Hannah's seizure slowed and stopped.

  “Darcy, your hand!” His mom cried.

  Axel looked down at her hand still on Hannah's chest. The skin had turned dark and grayish. Her fingers looked swollen and misshapen. As he watched, they pulsed as if some living thing was snaking under the skin.

  Darcy met his gaze, her mouth tight. “It's the death curse. I'm pulling out what I can reach without a spell.”

  Her voice was tight and breathy. How much pain was she in doing this? How much pain was Hannah enduring?

  “The convulsions are over, but she's getting sicker and …”

  Her words cut off when the house went dark.

  “Shit,” Axel snarled. He snapped upright and grabbed his knife. “Mom, are you armed?”

  “Yes.”

  Her voice was calm, hard.

  “It's just a power outage.” Darcy sounded scared.

  He moved to the door, keeping his mom, Hannah, and Darcy behind him. “Generator would have kicked on. It's rogues, they've found us. Darcy, pick up Hannah.”

  “Got her.”

  “Get behind me, Mom, bring …” An explosion rocked the front of the house followed by glass shattering. “Follow me!” He turned right into the hall.

  A rogue armed with a gun swerved into the hallway and cut off their escape. Axel reacted instantly, throwing his knife into the man's chest. The rogue hit the ground.

  Hannah started to cry.

  Axel ignored her, took a step, and yanked his knife out of the body. Then he grabbed the rogue's gun, a Glock, and turned in time to shoot a second rogue skidding around the corner.

  Hannah screamed, then cried out, “I want Minnie!”

  “Hush, baby,” Darcy said.

  Axel felt the push of her powers as she charmed Hannah into silence. “Get downstairs!” He quickly turned into the kitchen to provide cover while they ran into his room and downstairs to escape. His senses were on high alert. He could see in the dark and his hearing was better than ever. He estimated there were four rogues coming into the house.

  The kitchen was clear.

  He looked at the living room and spotted two more stealthily making their way through the big hole that had been blown where his front door used to be. Moving silently, he turned to kill the bastards that threatened his family.

  Terror pounded viciously against Darcy's rib cage. Hannah clung to her neck and had her legs wrapped around her waist. She clutched the railing as she hurried down the stairs.

  Gunfire erupted upstairs.

  Hannah sobbed, but didn't scream.

  “Darcy, hurry to the end of the hall!” Eve said behind her.

  She rushed to the end. The walls were beige and the mirror Axel had told her about was hanging at the end. It looked lonely and out of place there. She put her hand up against it.

  The wall at the end started to glide open.

  Eve slipped past her, going up into the garage. “There's five steps up, Darcy. No lights. Follow me.”

  The garage was dark, cold, and smelled of oil and leather. Thin lines of light came in from the far wall, leading Darcy to believe it was actually a garage door. Combined with the light spilling out from the hallway, she could make out a three-car garage. She followed Eve's dark shape.

  Her knee smashed into something cold and hard. Pain shot through her kneecap and froze her. Biting her lip, she managed to keep from crying out.

  Hannah squeezed her harder, whimpering.

  Darcy shifted the sweaty girl and freed one hand to touch whatever she'd smacked into. A car. Big enou
gh to be an SUV. She'd hit the driver's-side fender. Carefully, she went around to where Eve waited.

  Quietly, Eve opened the door to the backseat.

  Darcy set Hannah inside.

  Hannah started to squirm and protest.

  “Shh, Hannah.” Darcy climbed in and put her arm around the trembling child. The smell of leather was stronger in the SUV.

  Eve quietly closed the door. Then she got in the driver's seat and the door locks engaged. “Keep Hannah down.”

  She laid Hannah on the seat with the girl's head in her lap and worked to keep feeding her calming energy. No child should be this terrified.

  Eve started the car, put it in gear, and hit a button that raised the garage door.

  Darcy held her breath as the door rolled up. The SUV lurched forward and slid out of the garage. Just as they turned left to edge around the front of the house, two rogues with guns ran toward them. They both fired at the car.

  A bullet tore through the front windshield and another one went through Darcy's window. She pitched her body over Hannah to protect her from broken glass.

  A tire blew out. Eve lost control of the SUV. Two more tires were shot out.

  It was happening so fast!

  The rogues closed in, their pale faces looming in the headlights, huge hairless arms holding guns pointed at them while they stalked the car.

  Panic clawed at her. She didn't want to die! But worse, a million times worse, was the chance that Hannah and Eve might be killed. “I can hold them off, Eve. You and Hannah get to Axel's truck! Hurry.”

  “But …”

  “Go! Go out the passenger side and grab Hannah!” Darcy took a deep breath. She could do this. Axel would save her.

  Or she would die.

  But she couldn't let Hannah die. It was Darcy the rogues wanted. She took a deep breath and tried to calm her panic and focus her energy. Then she said, “Ancestors protect us.” She grabbed the handle, shoved open the door, and jumped out. She raced a few feet toward the house and looked back.

  The three rogues looked at her, then looked at Eve dragging Hannah out of the SUV and running toward Axel's truck. She needed them all to want her.

  Crave her.

  Blood! She frantically searched the ground. Spotting a fragment blown out from the front of the house, she scooped up a long chunk of wood with a jagged tip. Glancing up, she saw one rogue had grabbed Eve, who was struggling to get to her gun while holding Hannah.

  No time to think. Darcy jammed the piece of wood into the inside of her left arm and dragged it up her elbow. The pain bloomed hot and fierce. Blood welled up and spilled over her arm. She held it up and yelled, “Hey! Witch blood! Come and get it!”

  The rogue holding Eve turned his head.

  Eve shot him point-blank in the stomach. Hannah screamed, a high-pitched sound of sheer mindless terror.

  The other two rogues turned toward Darcy and inhaled. Their entire attention focused on her.

  Then they disappeared.

  Holy shit! She knew they were running at her, but she couldn't see them. Her heart beat frantically, her lungs burned. She turned to run toward the house. Toward Axel.

  Behind her, she heard the truck roar to life and peel out.

  She raced to the steps, reaching out a hand to grab the rail, when the smell of copper made the hair on the back of her neck stand up.

  A hand grabbed her outstretched arm, jerking her to a halt. Both rogues appeared at the same time. The one that had grabbed her yanked her other arm behind her back, immobilizing her. “Cut her!”

  The second rogue had a silver knife the size of a cop's nightstick. It flashed so fast, it took a second for her brain to register the cuts—first a razor-sharp slash on her left bicep, followed by one on her right thigh.

  Then came the shock of pain. Her eyes burned with tears. She tried to fight them, kicking out blindly.

  That knife flashed again, a third cut, this time through her shirt to her side. Warm blood flowed everywhere. The burning pain rushed along her nerves and cut off her concentration.

  The stench of copper made her stomach heave.

  Her chakras closed up as she lost the connection with her powers.

  The first rogue picked her up and threw her over his shoulder. Then he broke into a run.

  In her mind, she screamed, Axel!

  The screech of a hawk answered.

  The gunshot to his left thigh slowed Axel down and really pissed him off. He'd killed the bastard who'd shot him then fought through two more, killing them, too.

  He heard Darcy's scream rip through his chest and guts.

  Racing through the big gaping hole where the front door used to be, he rushed to the balcony in time to see two rogues running down the road with her. His truck was gone, his leg was bleeding and weak, but he didn't even pause. Putting one hand on the rail, he leapt over.

  His hawk screeched again.

  In a blinding instant of confusion, wings burst free of his back and spread to catch the wind currents. He was jerked from a jump that should have landed him on his feet into a horizontal position.

  Axel was so shocked, he damn near slammed face-first into the ground. But the muscles in his back, chest, and abdomen reacted, flapping his wings until he rose from the ground.

  He was fucking flying! He soared with powerful sweeps of his wings, but stayed low enough to use the copper scent to guide him. He saw his two security guys, mortals, dead on the ground, and farther up the road he spotted his truck hauling ass. He was relieved to see a head that looked like his mom's through the back windshield. She must have gotten away with Hannah.

  Now for the bastards that had his witch. He spotted them loping down the road, easily going twenty miles an hour. The biggest one had Darcy clamped over his shoulder.

  Mine! Instinct had him bank his wings into a dive. He saw the blood on the side of Darcy's shirt and his mind went red with rage.

  She twisted her head, angling to look up at him. Her brown eyes widened in shock, and he could see the ripple in her dulled witch-shimmer.

  Thirty feet away.

  Twenty.

  Ten feet away when the hunter who was holding Darcy looked up.

  Axel shifted in the wind currents so that he slammed his boots directly into the bastard's face, instantly snapping his neck. Then he landed on the ground and caught Darcy as she fell.

  The other rogue turned with a roar.

  Axel set Darcy on her feet, folding his wings into his back, and stalked toward him.

  The rogue attacked, going for Axel's heart with his knife.

  Axel kicked the knife from his hand with a bone-crunching roundhouse.

  The rogue grabbed his injured hand, but his gaze landed on Darcy. He bellowed and started running toward her, pulled by the fierce craving.

  Axel slammed into his back, knocking him to the ground before he could reach Darcy. He jammed his knee into the man's back, grabbed his head and twisted viciously, snapping his neck.

  The rogues were dead. Darcy was safe for the moment. Rising, he strode to where she stood frozen. Her witch-shimmer was the color of soured milk. Blood flowed from several wounds. And yet she cried out, “Your thigh! Are you shot?”

  He stopped in front of her long enough to say, “Yes.” Then he scooped her up in his arms. “Put your arms around my neck.”

  “Your leg hurts!”

  She could feel it, damn it. “Close it off, Darcy. Are my mom and Hannah in my truck?” He wasn't exactly sure how the flying thing worked, so instead he strode down the road to where the rogues had parked their cars to attack on foot.

  “Yes. They got away, but I don't know where they'll go. Put me down.”

  Once he reached the cars, he tried the doors until one on the black Chevy S10 opened. Popping the remaining lock, he walked around and settled Darcy into the passenger seat.

  She looked up at him. “You had wings. Where did they go?”

  Yanking off his shirt, he saw that it had a rip in the ba
ck where his wings had burst through. “Hell if I know. How many cuts?” He tore the shirt into strips and quickly tied one around her arm. Left bicep. He knew the next cut would be right thigh. Then the trunk of her body, most likely her side, judging from the blood on her white shirt. They did it that way, cuts on different points of the body, to confuse the body and disconnect the witch's powers.

  “Three cuts from the rogues and one I did myself.”

  He grabbed the edges of her jeans to rip it apart so he could see the cut. Her words sunk in and he looked up. “You cut yourself?”

  Her eyes were dry and haunted. “I had to. They were going after your mom and Hannah. But it's me they wanted.”

  She'd turned herself into witch-blood bait! “You …” He couldn't even say it. Un-fucking-real. He wrapped her thigh then lifted her shirt. That wound went a little deeper. The bloodlust frenzy had been taking hold. It's a wonder they hadn't fallen on her right then. The thought made him sick.

  “Axel, your thigh is worse than these cuts.”

  Her powers kept trying to reach out to him, then falling away. Despite her own hurt, she wanted to take away his pain. “Stop, Darcy. I don't feel pain like you do. You feel it vividly. To me, it's just irritating. Don't waste your powers on me. I want you to concentrate on healing yourself.”

  “Is that true?”

  He didn't smell any more rogues, but it was still dangerous to stay out in the open. And yet, he took the time to lean in and touch his mouth to hers. “Yes, I swear. We're meant to handle physical pain.” But he wasn't built to handle seeing her in pain. He knew the cuts hurt her badly enough that she couldn't get her chakras to stay open so she could establish a connection. He could feel her power rise, then slip away. He took the last strip and wrapped it around the jagged wound that obviously hadn't been caused by a sharp knife. “What did you do this with?”

  “A broken piece of the house.”

  Christ, she was brave. Her pain was dotting her witch-shimmer with red. He tied it off, then took hold of her face. “Look at me.”

  She lifted her gaze to his.