by Linsey Hall
I reached for it, envisioning an ice spear. I flung out my hands toward the lake. Twin icicles shot from my palms, plunging into the water like harpoons.
“Whoa.” I staggered backward. “That’s new.”
Roarke reached for my right hand, pulling it up to inspect it. I shivered at the warmth of his touch, then glanced back at the ice demon. It still hadn’t disappeared.
“What’s going on, Del?” Roarke murmured as he studied my palm.
I hadn’t yet told him I was a FireSoul. He knew I was a Phantom and had some weird power over death—two magical talents which were expressly forbidden and could get me thrown in the Prison for Magical Miscreants—but the FireSoul secret wasn’t mine alone. Since Cass and Nix were also FireSouls, I couldn’t put them at risk by revealing my secret.
And that wasn’t what had happened, anyway. I hadn’t stolen that demon’s powers with my FireSoul gift.
“I don’t know,” I said. “But we need to get out of here. I think those demons were drawn to me. We need to get back to my place where it’s safe.”
My apartment and the shop I ran with Cass and Nix were protected by charms that would keep demons out. I didn’t want to hang out here any longer.
“Fine.” Roarke started toward the ice demon’s body. “But we’re going to have to do something about this guy. He hasn’t disappeared yet. He should have.”
I glanced around. All the other bodies were gone. Whatever I’d done to him had made it so that he hadn’t returned to the Underworld. Because he no longer had his soul? I shuddered.
“Put him in the lake.” I begrudgingly pointed to the water, hating having to ask Roarke to do it. I liked to clean up my own messes. But I didn’t have a handy pair of wings.
“That’ll scare the hell out of some scuba divers.”
“It’s a mountain lake. The middle will be deeper than divers go. And the fish will eat him.” Wow, how morbid was this? I felt like a mobster, knowing just how to dispose of a body.
“Fine.” Roarke grabbed the demon by the collar and took off into the air, his powerful wings quickly carrying him to the middle of the lake. He dropped the demon and waited, no doubt watching to see if the body sank.
Some demons were denser than humans. I just hoped this one was.
By the time he returned, I was shaking from the cold.
“Did it sink?” I asked.
He nodded. “Ready to get out of here?”
“So ready.” My arm hurt like hell, and the memory of the demon spit made me want to shower even though it hadn’t landed.
I glanced at the lake where the body of the demon now rested near the wreck of the A.J. Goddard. Had this practice trip been a success?
Nope. Not really.
Sure, I’d brought the ship back. But it had all gone entirely to shit after that. Bringing the past back without being able to get rid of it was worse than not being able to bring it back at all.
“Ready?” Roarke held out a hand.
I eyed the icy water of Lake Laberge, shivering at the mere thought of it, then nodded and took his hand. He swept me up into his arms, carefully avoiding my burned arm. His muscles were tense, as if touching me were difficult for him. But my stupid heart raced as his warmth drove some of the chill from my veins. When he lunged into the sky, his wings carrying us high, it was all too easy to feel the strength of his arms.
I clung to him as he flew us out over the water. It glittered gray in the sunlight, calm once again.
One of Roarke’s badass talents as Warden of the Underworld was that he could travel through the Underpath, a network of pathways that passed through the hells, connecting different places on Earth through portals. He could most easily access the Underpath through graveyards and haunted places. The wreck of the A.J. Goddard counted as both, which was another reason we’d chosen this place to practice.
The only inconvenience was that it was underwater. Only twenty-five feet deep, but still, that was an icy twenty-five feet to the portal entrance on the boat’s deck.
“Ready?” His rough voice made me jerk my gaze upward to meet his eyes.
I nodded, then sucked in a breath and held it, bracing myself for the freezing chill of the water.
“Now.” Roarke’s voice made me snap my eyes closed.
I felt his muscles flex as he folded his wings, then we plummeted through the air, hitting the water with an icy blast. It was so cold that my head ached like the worst ice cream headache imaginable. We sank quickly, propelled by our fall.
Unable to help myself, I opened my eyes. The water glowed bright green. I leaned over to peer down, catching sight of the boat below. The bow loomed eerily in the water, a real ghost ship. The deck still intact, though the smokestack was gone, no doubt lost during the wreck. Machinery hulked at the stern. The engines, probably. At the very end was a massive paddlewheel.
The boat was in nearly perfect condition after all these years, down to the pair of old leather boots sitting in the mud next to the hull. Thrown off by one of the men who’d jumped overboard to make it easier to swim? I shuddered, hoping he’d been one of the two to make it to shore.
We drifted through the icy water down to the deck. My lungs were burning from lack of air, and I clung to Roarke, grateful when I finally felt us stop sinking. Roarke’s feet had hit the deck. He reached out a hand, and a portal glowed in front of us. We moved toward it, and a moment later, the crazy whirlwind pull of the Underpath sucked us in, and the world turned black.
Chapter Two
A moment later, Roarke stepped out into the alley in the older part of Magic’s Bend, Oregon. He set me down as quickly as possible and stepped away. I shivered when I lost his warmth.
Old buildings loomed on either side of us, and the late afternoon sun cast a golden glow on the cobblestone alleyway. Our clothes dripped cold water onto the stones. The tornado of black mist swirled around Roarke as he resumed his human form. Magic returned the shirt to his chest.
I shook my head, trying to clear it. “That’s easily the weirdest form of travel.”
“Let’s get out of here.”
I nodded gratefully and followed him out of the alley, keeping a wary eye on my surroundings. The ornate, colorful buildings of the historic district rose three stories tall on either side of the street. Supernaturals of all species roamed Magic’s Bend, and though demons technically weren’t allowed to leave the Underworld, they did. And this was the perfect place for them to blend.
They could be anywhere.
Were they really drawn to me?
I shivered again, as much from the stress as from the cold. I could handle myself against demons. No problem. But against a lot of them? When they ambushed me?
That was less certain.
Particularly if that weird soul thing happened every time I killed one. I did not want to be adopting all kinds of crazy powers. Especially demon powers.
We hurried across the street toward Roarke’s sleek black car and climbed in. The fancy electric engine was silent as the grave as he pulled away from the curb, but the warm air blasted, making my muscles melt.
So much better than Scooter, my motorcycle. I loved Scooter, but he didn’t boast heated air.
“I’m going to ask again. What the hell is going on?” Roarke navigated smoothly through traffic.
“I don’t know.”
“There are things you aren’t telling me.”
Yeah, duh. There were things I didn’t tell a lot of people. Like the fact that I was a FireSoul. He knew enough of my secrets; he didn’t need that one, too. Not until I could trust him. If I ever could.
“I really don’t know what’s going on.” I rubbed my upper arms for warmth, wincing at the sting of the burn on my arm.
“How’s your arm?”
“The usual.” Hurt like hell. But that wasn’t exactly unfamiliar territory for a mercenary.
Roarke pulled his cellphone from his pocket and punched in a number.
“That thing still wor
ks?” It should have gotten soaked in the lake.
“Magic.” He raised it to his ear and spoke quickly, commanding someone to come meet us at Ancient Magic. Then he hung up.
“Who was that?”
“Healer.” He turned onto Factory Row, the street that held my shop and apartment. “For that arm.”
As Warden of the Underworld, Roarke had an endless stream of demon minions to do his bidding. One was a healer, which came in handy at times like these.
“Thanks.” I didn’t even want to look at the wound because I was pretty sure that the leather was melted to my skin. “You sure you don’t have other things to be doing besides helping me out?”
His gaze landed on me briefly. “Even if I didn’t like you, you’re the most important thing to happen in Underworld developments since I became Warden. Not only did you escape hell after dying, you’ve got an unknown—and forbidden—connection to death magic. That makes you my highest priority.”
“You like me?” Of course my dumb brain latched on to that part. I was smooth.
His mouth snapped shut, and he clammed up real quick, focusing on the road.
Yeah, that was more on par with the last few days. He might have kissed me a few days ago, but he’d barely spoken to me since then. What the heck was going on with him?
I was used to a more linear progression with guys. One kiss led to more kisses. Or if it was a bad kiss, the guy was out of there like the Road Runner after dropping an anvil on Wile E. Coyote’s head.
But it hadn’t been a bad kiss. It’d been a great kiss. And then…nothing. Back to business as usual, with Roarke still helping. Which made our situation as clear as mud. The lack of clarity sucked because I liked him, but the scary part was that he knew some of my most dangerous secrets. So I needed him on my side, and any kind of cool-down made me nervous.
“We need to figure out what the fact that you’re the Guardian means,” Roarke said. “And this new development with your powers and the demons only makes that harder. You’re at risk until you can control your power.”
It had been only four days since the Phantom dragon named Draka had told me I was the Guardian between the Underworld and this one. We still had no idea what that meant, and Draka had been extremely unhelpful since she’d disappeared right after dropping that bombshell.
He parked the car outside of Ancient Magic, right in a pool of light cast by one of the imitation gas lamps that were meant to give the street a historic feel. It worked, especially now that the sun was starting to set, casting the old factory buildings in shadow. If you got rid of the cars and Scooter, who was parked across the street, the place looked like it could still be in its heyday in the nineteenth century.
I climbed out of the car in front of Ancient Magic. The wide glass windows were dark. It wasn’t even five o’clock, but it was close enough that it looked like Nix had closed up a bit early.
I shivered in the cool air, still wet from Lake Laberge, but I couldn’t take my wet jacket off until the healer fixed up my arm. I’d rather be cold than pry the melted leather away from my burned skin.
“I’m headed to P & P.” I turned and started down the street towards Potions & Pastilles, our favorite hangout place. “Cass and Nix will be there.”
Roarke jogged to catch up, a small duffle bag clutched in his hand.
“Change of clothes?”
He nodded. “I’ve learned that I’ll need them when I’m with you.”
I grinned. “Smart.”
A warm golden glow spilled out of the windows of P & P, welcoming me to my home away from home. I reached for the door, but Roarke’s hand appeared over my head and pushed it open, holding it so that I could enter. I ducked inside the warm, coffee-scented space, some of my fear evaporating away at the sight of Cass and Nix seated in our usual spot—the corner with the comfy chairs. Together, we could handle this. Totally.
Right?
“What the heck happened to you?” Cass asked.
Nix’s eyebrows shot up. “You look like hell.”
“Feel like it, too.” I approached the corner, weaving through the small, packed tables. It was Friday night, and as such, P & P was hopping with the weekend evening crowd. Connor and Claire, our friends who owned the place, sold whiskey and beer in the evenings.
Cass and Nix rose as I approached, concern on their faces. Aidan, Cass’s shifter boyfriend, approached from the bar, carrying a couple of drinks. He was as tall as Roarke, but he looked friendlier. Still a bit scary, considering how powerful his magic was, but he didn’t have Roarke’s Underworld air.
Aidan’s gaze dropped to my arm. “You all right?”
“Splendid.”
“Need a healer?” He handed Cass a can of Pabst Blue Ribbon, her beer of choice, and passed a wine glass over to Nix.
Roarke joined me. “One is coming.”
The door opened behind me and I turned. A small woman entered, clearly a demon from the sight of her two small horns.
“You’ve brought demons in my shop?” a voice asked from behind me.
I grinned, recognizing my friend Claire’s British accent, and turned to see her approaching. Her apron covered ratty jeans and a T-shirt instead of her fighting leathers, which meant she was on P & P duty instead of demon-killing duty. She was a part-time mercenary like me and wouldn’t take kindly to demons just wandering around. It was illegal for them to roam the earth freely, primarily because they were shit at keeping supernaturals’ existence a secret from humans. Though it wasn’t technically Claire’s or my job to take care of random demons roaming the street—we worked on contract—but us ignoring the demon was a bit like a doctor ignoring a heart attack victim.
“She’s a healer,” Roarke said. “Here on my authority.”
I glanced around. Patrons were turning to look, but no one said anything. Roarke’s voice carried, and even though these folks might not know he was Warden of the Underworld and it was technically within his rights to bring a demon here, it didn’t matter. It was clear he had the matter under control and wasn’t one to be messed with.
The small demon approached. Besides the tiny horns and the gray cast to her skin, she looked human. She even wore the flannel and jeans so common in this part of Oregon.
“What are we dealing with?” The tone of her voice was so deep that she sounded like the rumble of a truck’s engine.
My brows shot up. Okay. So her similarity to humans ended with her looks.
Roarke nodded at me, and the demon turned to look, her expression inscrutable. Her magic glowed around her like a halo of pale gray light. She approached.
“Thanks for coming,” I said.
“Don’t thank me yet.” She nodded for me to raise my arm.
I grimaced and obliged, standing patiently while she hovered her hands over my arm. Her magic glowed brighter, and the pain flared, an uncomfortable reminder of my mortality despite the fact I could turn into a Phantom.
And come back from the dead.
So was I mortal?
A week ago, I’d escaped the Underworld after dying from a sword blow. That wasn’t exactly normal.
After a moment, the pain faded. I risked a glance at my arm, relieved to see the reddened skin returning to its normal pale shade. The burned leather flaked off, drifting to the floor.
I met Claire’s gaze. “Sorry about that.”
She shrugged. “Floor’s seen worse. You want something to eat? A drink?”
“The usual, please. You’re an absolute lifesaver.”
She grinned and headed to the kitchen.
The demon stepped back and dusted her hands off. “That’s it. You’re good to go.”
I met her gray gaze. “Thank you.”
She jerked her head back toward Roarke. “Thank him. I ain’t cheap.”
“Ah.” I met his gaze. “Thanks.”
He nodded, then looked at the demon. “Walk you out?”
“Yep.” She followed him out the door.
As soon as he
was out of earshot, Nix demanded, “So how’s it going with him?”
“You asked me that this morning, right before I left. Nothing has changed. He’s still distant. Doesn’t talk much. Touches me only when necessary. But he sticks around to help. Makes me nervous.”
“Stay nervous,” Nix said. She was always the cautious one. “He knows what you are and is technically supposed to take you back to the Underworld. I know he’s been helping you, but you’ve got to play it safe.”
She was right. This wasn’t just about me being moony over a guy I liked. It was a matter of my freedom and safety. If he wasn’t such a huge potential threat, I wouldn’t be so worried.
“Nah, he’s cool. He’s got a major thing for her.” Cass hiked her thumb at me. “Hasn’t left her side since she escaped the Underworld.”
“That’s his job,” Nix said.
Cass turned to face Nix fully. “No, his job was to bring her back. But he didn’t. He’s letting her stay here.”
Nix opened her mouth as if they were just getting started. I didn’t have time for that.
“Guys, I have a problem.”
Both their heads swiveled to look at me.
“I think I’ve stolen the Ubilaz demon’s power.” I pitched my voice low so the other patrons couldn’t hear.
“What?” Cass nearly shrieked the word.
So much for keeping this quiet.
I gestured to the chairs. “Take a seat. Let’s pretend we’re normal.”
We sat just as Claire returned with a slice of veggie quiche and a mug of boxed wine she kept especially for me.
I took them. “Thank you so much.”
“No problem. Let me know if you need anything.” She nodded back toward the bar. “I’ll be busy with this group, but just shout.”
I grinned and nodded as Cass and Nix leaned forward.
“Spill,” Cass said.
I gazed forlornly at the quiche on my plate, then met her gaze. “So yeah, demons are following me like they follow the Ubilaz. One of them called me an abomination and a power stealer. He seemed pissed that I’d stolen the Ubilaz’s power and wanted to kill me for it. And I may have stolen an ice demon’s gift for throwing icicles.”
