BLOOD MAGIC

by Jennifer Lyon

  Finally, Axel said, “No? I'm not bound to you?”

  She had to convince him. “No! The choice is yours! You can reject me. You won't ever have the bloodlust again. But Axel, we don't know about your soul. You can't kill the demon witch!”

  He tilted his head, his jaw bulging with rage. “This was your plan? Keep Hannah just sick enough for me to need you? For me to keep you around until I accepted my role as your familiar? Your pet? Your goddamned flying monkey?”

  She grabbed his arm, unable to bear the awful gulf between them. His muscles flexed dangerously beneath her fingers. But she pressed on. “It's not a plan! I didn't know for sure about the soul-mirror connection until last night!” Her heart poured out of her. “I love you, Axel! Please, please, you have to believe I wouldn't do anything to hurt you.”

  His face was cold. Heartless. “Go with my mom, Darcy. Keep my sister alive until I can kill the demon witch. And when this is done, when Hannah is well and if I'm not rogue, I'll find you a safe place. Somewhere far away from me and my family.” He ripped his arm from her touch, took a few steps, then leapt into the air, his powerful wings taking him away from her.

  Darcy wanted to drop to her knees and let the pain of Axel's rejection have her. But she couldn't.

  She had more to do this night.

  She'd accomplished one thing—she'd told Axel she loved him. He would know that. Maybe he didn't believe it now, but later, maybe he would believe it. Maybe he'd remember her without the hatred, maybe even with a little affection.

  Joe's hand settled on her shoulder. “I'll kill him for that.”

  Fighting back her lingering fatigue, she turned to her cousin. “No, you won't. You won't touch him. Axel didn't deserve this. He's right, I bound him to me. I didn't mean to, but it doesn't change anything. He would never have chosen me of his own free will. I turned him into my puppet. He's right, leave him alone.”

  “Don't lie to me, Darcy MacAlister. That man is no one's puppet. Not now and not ever. He chose you, then when the going got tough and his pride took a hit, he hit back. He doesn't deserve you,” he snarled.

  She smiled. “Thanks, Joe.” He had always loved her, always stood up for her. How could she tell him what he meant to her in her life? How could she express that kind of love? She settled for, “You've always been there for me. I'm very lucky.”

  Narrowing his eyes, his hand tightened on her shoulder. “You're coming with us to Carla's.”

  She shook her head. “I can't. I have to stay with Hannah. I'm not going to let the death curse have her. I'll be safe enough; the Wing Slayer Hunters will keep me safe for Hannah's sake, if nothing else.”

  His face darkened, his jaw stubbornly set.

  “Joe,” she said softly. “I have to do this. I'm fine. But you have to get Carla out of here. There are too many witch hunters around and everyone is upset.”

  “I don't want to leave you.”

  She forced a smile. “I know you don't. But you need to keep Carla and Morgan safe.” Putting her hand on his arm, she added, “Morgan is making you happy. I love her for that alone.”

  His eyes caught the moonlight, brightening to something she hadn't seen in Joe in a very long time—hope. “She makes me care, she makes me want to fight to create a better place for her, and for her child. I haven't felt like this since I left Glassbreakers all those years ago.”

  “You deserve happiness. Now get Carla out of here.” She glanced into the night, desperate to get everyone she cared for away from the coming danger. “Hurry, Joe.”

  He studied her, “You'll go with the Wing Slayer Hunters?”

  “Yes.” There was too much at stake to worry about lying.

  Joe kissed her cheek and left.

  She watched him walk away with Morgan and Carla. She stared at Joe until she couldn't see him any longer.

  “We need to get Hannah back to the condo,” Eve said, her voice flat and troubled. Hannah was asleep on her shoulder.

  She turned to Axel's mother. “I'm not going. But you need to hurry, get Hannah out of here.”

  “Darcy, I know you didn't turn Axel into a familiar and I'm not leaving you out here.”

  She loved Eve for that. “Yes, you are. I'm going to make sure Axel doesn't lose his soul. The demon witch will come to me. I'll kill her.”

  “You can't. You're an earth witch.”

  “That's not exactly true. The cost of doing harm is witch karma, but I can do it. And I will. Just get Hannah out of here and take Sutton, Ram, Key, and Phoenix with you. I don't want any of them losing their souls in this fight. It's my fight. I made the choice to do the spell for Hannah, I'll deal with the demon witch.”

  Eve paled further, her brown eyes unsure, her arms wrapped around her daughter. “Axel said …”

  Eve was a mother who loved her kids, but she was also a decent woman. It was clear she didn't like leaving Darcy in this situation no matter what. She pushed a charm into her voice. “You need to get Hannah home, Eve. Take the men and go. Hurry.”

  Eve blinked, then nodded, turned, and walked away.

  Finally she was alone.

  Axel soared over the night skies while shielding himself so no one saw him.

  The demon witch's name was Linette Olsen. She had walked in on Axel's dad while he was slaughtering her twenty-two-year-old daughter, Kristen. Furious, she'd cast the death curse, but since hunters were immune, the curse bypassed Myles and Axel and struck Hannah.

  They'd found Linette's house but she hadn't been there. Ram had followed his instincts to the run-down house on a barren street where Kristen had been killed. The house was empty, but the bloodstains were surrounded by black candles that had clearly been lit. The place stunk of death and demons. Linette and possibly her coven, were holding some kind of ceremony around the blood of her murdered daughter.

  Axel was sure he'd find the demon witch there.

  It's what he should have done in the first place, gone after the demon witch that had cursed Hannah. Trusting Darcy …

  Even now, he didn't want to believe it. Darcy had used a child, used Hannah's illness, to manipulate him. She'd turned him into her flying monkey and he'd let her. But since he had the wings, he'd use them to help him kill the demon witch.

  He didn't care if he survived. What did it matter? It was all a lie. He'd wanted to believe his wings were a gift from the Wing Slayer. He had begun to believe that the Wing Slayer cared about his hunters, that he was trying to reach them once more. That the men he cared about meant something to their god. And that their efforts, their daily struggle to resist the curse and turn back to the Wing Slayer Hunter meant something to the god.

  It all meant nothing. Not a goddamned thing.

  Maybe the witches had killed off the Wing Slayer.

  Maybe all the witches ever needed was a dumb-fuck witch hunter to tattoo the wings that would allow them to finish the curse.

  Axel banked and headed down toward the lonely looking house set back from the street on the corner lot. As he landed he sniffed the air.

  Death. It smelled like old blood, decay, and faintly of sulfur. But he didn't smell any sign of life, which meant the house was empty.

  He decided to check to be absolutely sure. He strode up the pathway lined with overgrown shrubbery to the front entrance.

  The door hung open. His mind exploded with the image of the night he'd rescued Darcy from the two rogues at the mortuary. They'd been trying to get her through a door like that.

  His hawk screeched, the sound full of suffering. It was a sound of such grief and pain that it nearly split open his head with the agony.

  “Shut up,” he snarled. “She doesn't love us.” Us? What am I thinking? There's no us. The hawk is her creature. She'd turned him into an animal. “And yet,” he said out loud, “she's lying to keep us bound to her.” The memory of her face when she'd said she loved him … so desperate and pleading … was imprinted on his brain. He had wanted to believe her. In that second, he'd wanted to, but he co
uldn't.

  Logic told him that Darcy had known what she was doing to him. She had known when she couldn't transfer the spells herself. I've tried, but I can't do it myself, she'd said. She had known she couldn't do it without him. He'd gotten so damned horny, he hadn't thought it out.

  But Darcy had known, just as she must have known what she was doing the night she called her familiar. There was no way she couldn't have known—he'd been so compelled to go to her. How could she wield that kind of power and not know?

  No, she didn't love him, she loved using him to control her tremendous power.

  Axel was no one's familiar. The hawk fretted and made disgusting noises of pain inside his head.

  Ignoring the stupid bird, he furiously kicked open the door, slamming it into the wall, just to hear the satisfying crunch of wood. The house was dark inside, but his eyes adjusted in seconds. He strode into the front room, his gaze drawn to the main puddle of dried blood on the old scarred wood floor.

  The candles surrounding the blood had dried wax drips running down onto the wood planks. He heard no sound, sensed no movement.

  He looked down at those candles and his anger, his fury, and his hurt at Darcy's betrayal collided into a knot of vivid worry. Where the hell was the demon witch?

  Darcy. Even now, he couldn't stop the fierce protective worry for her. But she was safe, she'd gone with his men. He would track Linette right to the gates of hell if he had to in order to make sure that demon witch died tonight. Axel started to turn—

  Something shifted in the atmosphere.

  His senses went on alert. Even his hawk quit its miserable keening.

  Whipping out his knife, Axel whirled to his left—and his mouth fell open. A huge man with bronzed skin and deep gold wings floated on the air. He had to be well over seven feet tall. His hair matched his wings. Bronzed bands circled his massive wrists and upper arms, and they were stamped with wings. Only a strip of bronze cloth that wrapped around his hips and over one shoulder covered him. The Wing Slayer had finally made an appearance.

  “Linette isn't here.” The being's voice had a vibrating bass timbre.

  Axel stared at him, feeling each word spoken deep in his chest. He fell to his knees. The witch hunters were not alone; their god lived. “Wing Slayer.” He bowed his head.

  “I chose you as my hawk, Axel Locke. And until tonight, you were a valiant hawk, refusing to let this curse destroy you or the other men.”

  “Until tonight?” He raised his head. “Because I'm going to kill the demon witch?”

  “No. That is exactly what you should do. After bonding with the witch and binding your damaged souls into a whole, your decision to kill the demon witch tonight was the final step that allowed me to appear to you now.”

  He tried to understand. “That's what you wanted?”

  Wing Slayer said, “Needed. It's always been the single rule hunters must abide by—never deny me and always do the right thing in my name. That's what invokes my god-powers. You had to have enough faith in me to kill the demon witch despite the costs to you personally.”

  Axel knew he was missing something. “You've appeared now—what do I need to do?”

  “Asmodeus and his demon witches cast the curse to separate the hunters from me and the witches from their Ancestors. That got witches and hunters out of his way. Asmodeus is dependent on creating enough misery on earth to feed him greater power in the Underworld. If he fails to do that, he will be enslaved by other demons.”

  His chest got tight as he grasped the stakes. “What do I do?”

  “There's a loophole to the curse. Soul mirrors.”

  His head spun with the vivid memory of Darcy trying to tell him that they were soul mirrors. He sprang to his feet as a foreboding sensation made his heart pound. “Soul mirrors really exist? But the wings … I thought she …”

  Anger trembled in his voice. “Enough. You earned those wings to protect a very special witch. The wings weren't the gift, the real gift was Darcy. You rejected her. And yet, she still loves you enough to do your work for you.”

  What? His work? Christ, not the demon witch! Axel tried to open his mouth, but his entire body was frozen leaving him helpless in the face of the Wing Slayer's fury. His heart was writhing in his chest with the weight of what he'd done. She'd loved him, told him the truth, and he'd walked away. Rejected her.

  The Wing Slayer said, “You wanted to be free of the curse, here's the price Darcy will pay to free you.” He stepped aside and the wall behind the door opened up to show the beach. Darcy was on her knees, blood pouring from her side. Witch karma, Axel realized, she'd tried to cut the demon witch and now suffered a cut three times worse. The demon witch taunted her by changing her glamour into people Darcy loved.

  He could feel Darcy's pain, her physical pain and her emotional pain. He felt the wealth of her love for him flowing through her even though her heart was broken into a thousand pieces.

  Broken by him.

  He tried to look away, to find the Wing Slayer and beg him to help Darcy. The demon witch would kill her! But the freeze held him. Forced him to watch as he saw the look he knew so well take hold of her.

  Determination.

  Oh, God. No.

  He heard her voice. Ancestors willing, all I ask is that Axel live. Give him my soul and make him whole. Let me take his place as a shade. No! His mind screamed it, with every fiber of his being, he tried to stop her, to stop it.

  But Darcy unfurled her powers and reached her arms up against the hideous pain of her injuries, then her witchcraft exploded. Flames erupted …

  “No!” The word fought past the paralysis. Grief and regret choked him, drove him back to his knees and broke something inside of him. His hawk screeched and clawed, trying to get free, to get to Darcy. He bellowed, “Stop this! Stop it. Take my soul, not hers!”

  His wings burst from his back and he suddenly found himself in the air. Flying with a speed that was impossible.

  Did he have time? Could he get to Darcy and save her?

  He had to. He had no illusions, he had fucked up and it was going to cost him his soul. But if he saved Darcy, it would be worth the price. She was worth any price.

  The moon slid behind the clouds, leaving the ocean a dark angry mass. The sand was cold beneath her feet. Goose bumps rose on her skin.

  Darcy had the weirdest sense of déjà vu. Perhaps she was being fatalistic. Perhaps this was how her mother, Fallon, had felt knowing her death was coming.

  “Darcy, I have missed you.”

  That voice. My god. Darcy whirled to look behind her.

  The clouds parted to reveal her mother standing there, not Fallon, but Eileen, whom she had buried only a week ago. Only her hair was black, not streaked with gray and brittle as it had been at the end. Her blue eyes were vivid and full of life. “Mom?” It was torn from her and tears burned up her nose and into her eyes. She had missed her so much. She wasn't alone!

  The voices surged in her head.

  Her powers raced, spun, and bounced but now that Axel had rejected her, she couldn't get control of her high magic.

  Eileen reached her hands out to Darcy. “I came back for you.”

  Those words turned the voices in her head painful. But she didn't need to hear the actual words, her own heart told her the truth. She was still alone. “Stop it. You're not my mother.” It was the picture of her mother that Darcy had chosen for her obituary. “You're a demon witch.”

  The creature that looked like Eileen snapped her hand up, palm facing Darcy, and grunted out an unfamiliar word.

  She jumped back as the danger slammed into her. With brutal suddenness, she couldn't breathe. The witch was strangling her! She clutched her throat, fighting to breathe.

  The necklace at her throat warmed against her skin, reminding her that she controlled the elements. She ripped her hands off her own throat and flung open her chakras. She was abruptly able to breathe as if she had resurfaced from being underwater.

  T
he thing laughed. “Slow reflexes. That's what got me killed.”

  What did that mean? Darcy thought as the clouds moved past the moon and darkened the beach for a few seconds. Then they parted.

  Fallon stood there, looking just like Darcy. Long auburn hair, brown eyes, and she wore the bloody clothes she'd had on when Quinn Young had murdered her. Wounds started to burst open and bleed. Then her belly split apart.

  Pain lanced Darcy's forehead. Her third eye burned with the memory of seeing her mother murdered. Nausea churned. “Stop it!” The pain, the hurt, the utter loneliness made her want to reach for Axel. Her powers wept, her heart begged, but Darcy pulled back. Axel had told her many times she had to learn to protect herself and not let her powers escape her control.

  And he'd made his choice. He'd rejected her.

  She didn't dare look away from the dying image of Fallon for fear of what the demon witch inside the glamour would do.

  And if she didn't act, if she didn't end this, then she would fail. She'd die while the demon witch lived. And Axel would have to kill her and lose his soul.

  She couldn't fail.

  She had only one weapon—the knife Carla had given her to cut her thumb for the spell. She had to use it to shock the witch into her own form. Pulling the knife out of her pocket, she focused her powers …

  The knife was magically ripped from her hand and jammed into her thigh. Pain bloomed hot and furious. Blood welled up around the blade, staining her white dress with a growing red splotch. Dizziness assaulted her. No, damn it, she wouldn't make this easy. She grabbed the knife and yanked it out.

  “Darcy! It hurts!”

  She looked up, and saw Fallon on the ground, sliced and bleeding.

  No. Don't believe it. It's not real. Darcy concentrated enough to close off the wound in her thigh, relieved that she could heal wounds caused by dark magic.

  The creature leapt to her feet, the image of Fallon melting into an image of Carla, dressed as Carla had been tonight. “I wanted to tell you to—”

  Darcy only needed to see the missing silver armband that Carla was never without to know for sure. It wasn't Carla. Deep rage, and a need to end this, to stand for what was right, drove her. Darcy pulled her powers through her chakras and blasted the silver knife toward the creature's heart.