Rise: A New Adult Urban Fantasy (Spelldrift: Coven of Fire Book 1)

by Sierra Cross

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “Well, I guess I wasn’t sure that Liv would stick around,” Callie said.

  “I know what you mean,” Matt added.

  “You saw that too?” Callie asked. “But she’s really into the magic.”

  “Yeah,” I said, noncommittal. I wanted to join Callie in her enthusiasm, but I wasn’t there. In my gut, I still feared that magic was Liv’s shiny new toy. Maybe Asher was too? If so, he could handle it. But the coven couldn’t handle losing Liv to her ever-lurking boredom.

  I saw Matt’s muscles tense the same time I saw a flash of red eyes from the narrow space in between the buildings.

  Five Neqs burst onto the sidewalk. Through their weak glamours, I saw they looked like the red-eyed malformed monsters that attacked us at the cave. Slimy pustules oozing in the street lamp’s glow. Callie shrieked, but had the presence of mind to raise her magic. Gold light danced on her fingertips. I matched her by raising my own. Magic came up easily. Was I getting stronger? Or was it because I was with another coven witch? But my magic didn’t look like Callie’s. Instead of well-formed wisps confined to my fingertips, mine covered my hands completely. Like the blue light that covered Matt’s body when he was fighting. I didn’t have time to process that. I was just glad I was able to call any magic to me.

  They attacked us all at once. Green blasts singed my hair. Sulfur burned my nostrils. Neq fireballs hit the pavement in every direction we tried to escape, forcing us into a tighter circle. As the demons surrounded us, Matt and I instinctively put Callie between us. She was deflecting enough green lightning bolts to keep the demons from scoring any major blows, but that meant she wasn’t able to land any hits of her own. Matt sprang into the air, roundhouse kick executed so well he missed Callie by mere inches and slammed two demons. Knocking them down, but not out.

  The two demons in front of me brandished knives with long inscribed blades that glowed red. Callie was throwing blast after blast directly at the demon going for her, managing to keep him back but not taking him out.

  My body moved of its own accord. I was music and orchestra all at once. Power sang in my veins. I went low and swept the third demon off its feet and knocked down the fourth. As they struggled to stand I was straddling one in a flash, the small dagger from my boot in hand. Plunging the blade into its heart, it turned to dust beneath me. I saw Matt spin, blade slicing demon one’s throat, ear to ear, with one fluid stroke.

  The split in concentration cost me. The other demon I knocked down slammed into me. Flat on my back, demon on top of me, his blade raised. Struggling against the hold, his weight was so great I couldn’t get air into my lungs. My efforts to move were futile. I stared up into red eyes devoid of empathy. Evil stared back at me. A thin rivulet of demon saliva splattered my cheek. I was bracing for the final blow when I heard Matt’s feral howl. He lunged for me but was thwarted as another Neq slammed into him, shouting to the one who was about to dispatch me, “Not that one!”

  Before I registered what happened the demon was off me, in midair, the arc of its blade headed at Callie’s throat. I took no time to calculate odds or trajectory. Every move was instinct. Hands down, scraping on gritty wet cement, my body flipped, flying through the air in slow motion. Arms outstretched, I shoved Callie with all my might. Her slight frame soared out of the blade’s path with ease. And the right side of my body landed right in it.

  Searing pain burned a path as the knife sliced through the skin and muscle just above my hip. My blade came down a half second later. Too late, I thought. The demon disintegrated, his knife clattering to the ground with a metallic clank. My body slammed into the unforgiving sidewalk, skull bouncing, stars shooting before my eyes. Callie’s face was spattered with drops of blood. My blood.

  Within seconds, cold invaded my bones. A thick icy sweat blooming on my skin. My breath came in shallow panting that I couldn’t slow.

  “Blade was poisoned.” Matt’s arms slid beneath me with a gentle power. “Callie, get to Asher’s. Have him check you out.” Lifting me like I weighed nothing, he curled my body in to him.

  “What if there are other demons?” My words coming out in between pants.

  “If there were, they would have joined the fray. It’s not their style to hold back. Besides, we would have sensed them by now. Once she gets in the wards, she’ll be safe.”

  “I should help with Alix.” Callie’s voice trembled. “She saved my life.”

  “I’ve got this. But I’ve got to go now,” Matt says. “Get into Asher’s, he needs to check you out.”

  At home, Matt laid me on the floor in front of the fireplace. It was on high, but its heat wouldn’t penetrate the chill that had clamped around me. His rough fingers moved with astonishing grace as they removed my jacket without jostling my body. His one hand tugging the bottom of my shirt, his blade in the other slicing it to the neck in one stroke.

  “Why didn’t they kill me?” My voice was a thin whisper that I wasn’t even sure was audible.

  His expression was grim. “Maybe the word’s out that Eric thinks you have promise.”

  “So those demons weren’t sent by Eric?”

  “I don’t know, Alexandra. Right now, what matters is healing you.”

  The wound on my side was the epicenter of an arctic furnace of pain, radiating the icy burn outward as the poison seeped into my blood stream. Matt’s fingertips felt like fire as they inspected my wound on the glacier that was my skin. His every movement executed with quick precision. No action unplanned. Mesmerized, I stared as blue and gold magic flickered off his fingertips and swirled down to my wound. I’d seen the blue on him before, when he fought, but never had it been mixed with gold. It was dazzling. Guardian magic, I decided, was no less impressive to behold than witch magic.

  “The wound’s shallow,” he said, in a low soothing tone. “I can heal it. But I need to get the toxin out first.” I nodded, assuming he meant using magic. Till he said, “Apologies in advance. It’s going to hurt worse coming out than it did going in.”

  He bowed his head low and I couldn’t figure out what he was doing until I felt his warm lips on my skin.

  “No. Way.” He was sucking the poison out of me. “You’re not a cowboy. My life is not a Western—ahh!” I gasped as the stubble on his check brushed the tender skin on my belly.

  He motioned to me to be still, but my senses were so heightened I felt every whisker. Heat radiated off his face. I felt the firm pressure of his lips and then exponentially blinding pain as he started to draw the poison from my body. My hips arched upward pressing into his jaw in reaction to the pain. Firm hands wrapped around my waist, holding my torso in place so he could work. My body bucked against his strength as he sucked and spat the deadly toxin into a towel. I shivered as pleasure and pain intermingled, impossible to tease apart.

  Inch by inch I felt the poison’s circumference shrink as his mouth forced more and more of the toxin out of me. The chill in my body began to melt, replaced by a heat that was emanating from low in my belly—only not generated by any poison. My fingers were tangled in his dark hair and I had no idea how they got there. His breath almost a growl. My own breath came in short gasps, but now it was the proximity of Matt’s lips causing it.

  Golden magic from his fingertips was penetrating my wound. Gold? I’d only seen blue from him up until now. The warm, shimmering light was knitting my tissue back together. Matt was healing me. How was that possible? I remembered my mother saying that healing was a rare skill even among witches, unheard of for a guardian. His chin dragged across my hip bone and I felt his lips press a kiss into my sensitive skin. All thought left me. Fireworks exploded in my brain, I couldn’t contain my desire. Clenching my fingers on his hair I gently pulled his head up my belly and over my breasts. His breathing quickened, and his pupils dilated slightly. Then I felt his breath hot on my neck, a rock-hard thigh between my legs, as he balanced his weight over my body. My hands slipped to the small of his back pre
ssing him down on me. He groaned with a need that sent a shock wave through me. Every molecule of my body needed him like I’d never needed another human being. The force of my desire shocked and elated me. His hips rocked down on mine and his lips met my own. Our kiss was hunger and heat and sweetness.

  “You healed me,” I whispered in breathless gratitude as his lips continued to ignite my senses.

  He groaned again, this time not with pleasure but what sounded like pain. He sat up, straddling me, running his fingers through his hair in frustration.

  “What’s wrong?” I breathed.

  Our eyes met. The need in my body, so raw and so close to the surface, was mirrored in the smoldering look he gave me.

  He sat on the floor just on the other side of my legs and I sat up facing him. The loss of proximity to his body was a devastating blow. I wanted to grab him back to me.

  He took a few deep breaths. “I can’t do this.” He pushed himself back until he was leaning on the couch. “You can’t tell anyone I healed you.”

  His look of longing had been replaced with one of panic.

  “Why?” I practically begged. At first I wanted to cut past this chat and get back to kissing, but he was on the verge of freaking out. “Tell me.”

  He sat for so long I thought he wasn’t going to answer. He huffed a few times as if trying to decide. And then started without looking at me. “When I was a kid I had this big golden retriever, Tater,” he said, eyes glistening but no tears form. “Damn, that was one fine dog. Best friend a kid could ever have. Followed me everywhere.

  “One summer day I was jonesing for some new comic books. So I hopped on my bike and I rode out of the woods that our compound was in, and braved the three miles of two-lane highway to get to the strip mall with the 7-11. Tater followed me the whole way. We were almost at the entrance. I didn’t see the truck. It was over so fast. The guy didn’t even stop. I’m holding my dying dog and I…don’t know…magic starting heating up my hands. And it wasn’t blue like it was supposed to be. It was gold, like a freakin’ witch’s.” He said it with distaste, shook his head, and continued. “I couldn’t help it. I sent the magic in and healed Tater. Alana had been in the postal station and ran out just as Tater stood up.” He wiped his hand over his face like he was ashamed and I can’t figure out why.

  “I’ll never forget the look of revulsion on her face. She told me it was wrong for a guardian to have that power and that I could never do it again. Could never tell anyone or I’d be sent away. Or worse.”

  He looked like he was on the verge of breaking. “There’s something not right about me.”

  I knew if I reached out my hand he’d take it, but I didn’t. Instead, I scooted farther away giving him some space. We stayed that way in an urgent impasse until he groaned and stood.

  Then like a wall falling, all emotion disappeared from his face. “I need to get some air.” He left the apartment so quickly there was a breeze in his wake. What the heck just happened? I didn’t care if he had golden magic mixed in with his guardian magic. He didn’t even give me a chance to tell him that. He just shut me out, left me hanging in my swirl of need.

  To distract myself from the anguish of what just happened, I answered Callie’s and Asher’s texts letting them know I was okay. I was relieved to hear Callie hadn’t really been injured. I was mad, but I’d keep Matt’s secret. And yes, I confirmed to Asher, I was still planning on making the trek to Edmonds the next morning to find the crone, as he called her.

  But after this, I wondered if I’d be going there alone.

  I woke up at 6:30 a.m., wondering how this quest was going to play out. I had no idea what time Matt got back in. I just knew it was after 1:00 a.m. when I drifted off to sleep and he still wasn’t back. Must’ve been some walk. I stumbled blearily into the kitchen. There was coffee, but no food. Matt wasn’t sitting at the table, but leaning on the counter, like he wasn’t wanting to take up too much space.

  “I can’t be with you like that again. And I don’t want to make this hard for you.” He wouldn’t make eye contact, but looked down at his feet. “If you’d rather Asher take you.”

  What the heck? All of a sudden it wasn’t his emotional pot hole that put us here, it was my overactive hormones?

  “He made it pretty clear that wasn’t an option.” I didn’t know why I was miffed, but I was. Maybe because he was making this sound like it was one sided. I was there last night. I saw the look in his eyes, felt his body respond. But maybe it’s good that I’m angry with Matt. It could be one way to keep this desire at bay. “Besides, I’m a big girl,” I snapped. “No means no. I can handle it.”

  “It’s not…” He raised a hand and cut himself off. When he spoke next, he was devoid of emotion. “I’ll be down at the car when you’re ready.”

  I refused to let the ride be forty-five minutes of awkward silence. I put Bishop Briggs radio station on Pandora and sang as I drove. Didn’t ask and didn’t care if he liked this music or not. I felt Matt’s presence looming large in the car despite his silence. I could tell he was staring out the side window, though I refused to look directly at him. I was desperately batting away the memory of his hands on my skin, of his lips on mine. At the same time, I was nervous about this trip. Hoping like hell that I was still receptive enough to feel Marley’s signature if it was out there. Yes, it would’ve made more sense to let him drive—as he’d offered to twice—so I could work on sensing Marley. But I needed something to focus on for the forty minutes before we got there. And okay, maybe I was tired of losing control to Matt.

  Another text came in from Emma asking me to call. I really needed to do that, one of these days. Right now, though, I needed to sing my mad out.

  Matt reached over and turned down the radio.

  “Me saying no. To you. It’s complicated. I wish it weren’t.” He seemed to be searching for his words, straining to keep emotion out of his voice. “But I want you to know, I’m not trying to be a dick—”

  I cut him off. “That’s just a bonus then?” I regretted my mean words instantly. “I just don’t understand how this can be wrong,” I said stubbornly. What just happened wasn’t animal passion. It felt right in my soul. “I know you feel this too, Matt. Who cares if some archaic regulation says—”

  “It’s not just a regulation.” His voice was twisted in anguish. “I wish you could understand there are damn good reasons for these rules. They’re ancient magical laws, instituted for the protection of all. No fraternization, no exceptions.” He sounded like he was reciting a catechism. “It results in errors of judgment, misaligned loyalties, and the creation of Amalgams. That’s an abnormal offspring—”

  “Offspring?” I was gobsmacked. “Dude, we kissed once, and you’re freaking out about hypothetical children?” Presumptuous much? “I assure you, making babies is the last thing on my mind. I know you grew up on the compound, but here in the big city we have drugstores. They sell these nifty things called—”

  Whoosh. The breath was knocked out of both of us simultaneously. If the wards around the cave felt like walking through cactus spines, this was driving through napalm. My body jerked and my foot came off the accelerator.

  “Drive forward!” Matt struggled to get enough breath to yell.

  My every driving instinct was screaming at me to put the car in reverse. His foot snaked down on top of mine and he gunned the accelerator. Immediately, the pain got worse. I felt like my ears must be bleeding and my head was going to explode when finally—thankfully—we burst through the other side.

  Matt’s leg was still on mine as we puffed to catch our breath. My toes were throbbing. I wiggled my leg to let him know I needed him to move immediately. If I was honest with myself, I was pissed that he’d had to help me. That I didn’t know just to power through.

  “If you back up and try again it’s twice as strong,” he said quietly. “You wouldn’t know that unless you’ve done it before.” As if reading my mind. “I’ve never felt wards this strong
,” he added. “If she hadn’t wanted you to get through, it wouldn’t have worked.”

  That wasn’t the last land mine we encountered. As we drove forward on the roughly paved driveway, wave after wave of similar magical booby traps greeted us, and we continued to punch through. This was her letting me in? The rim of native pines and rhododendron was so dense you couldn’t see any other signs of civilization through it—an organic wall sheltering them from the world outside. Well, that and wards that would turn ordinary peoples guts to Jell-O. The vegetation opened up to reveal old country farms sprawling out at the top of high bank waterfront property. There was a quaint cottage with herb gardens in front, a number of small out buildings, a large chicken coup, and a pen with several small brown and white goats. I counted eight women working on different farm chores—Marley’s acolytes? At the far edge of the compound there is a garage with cement walls and a huge padlock—a weapons cache? Who knew?

  When the front door of the old cottage opened I felt certain there’d been some mistake. A raven-haired woman in her mid-forties stood before me, hand on a slim hip, no welcome in her obsidian eyes. Time may have softened her edges but it didn’t lessen her stunning beauty.

  She stood there looking from Matt to me and back again, like if perhaps she ignored us we’d go away. Her gaze was cool, her long limbs relaxed. Her clothes were simple but elegant, like everything else about her. Around her neck was a thick hammered bronze chain, the pendant beneath her shirt. Through the finely woven cotton I thought I saw it glowing. As if she noticed my gaze she pulled her sweater closed and decided to acknowledge us.

  This was the old crone?

  I smacked myself in the head. “Asher.” Of course, this was the crone. That dog, he’d slept with this witch too.

  “Yes, how is that boy-toy doing?” Marley asked and I realized I’d spoken his name aloud. “All parts of him back in working order again?”

  Back in working order? Matt and I locked eyes. I hated to think of what parts of Asher she might have broken. I’m sure Matt did too—but for different reasons.