Price of Magic: An Urban Fantasy Novel (Witch's Bite Series Book 2)

by Stephanie Foxe

  “You will come back with us, and you will come to understand your place in all this,” she says calmly. “I wish you would come peacefully, but I’m afraid I can’t take no for an answer.”

  “Did you kill my mother?” I ask, struggling to my arms. My voice is barely a whisper over the wind, but I know she heard me. She shakes her head and frowns.

  “No, your mother killed herself with her lies,” she says, her face twisting into a frown. “We could have found you so much sooner if she hadn’t.”

  Maybelle’s bloody face flashes through my mind and I scream in anger. The pain they must have put my mother through makes me want to kill each and everyone one of them.

  I quit pushing against the wind and simply let set my magic free. A bright orange bolt of lightning darts through the wind. The woman leaps to the side and the blot strikes where she had been standing, melting the concrete.

  I run forward, but another burst of wind hits me from the side. It lifts me from my feet and I slam down onto the concrete sliding toward another car. Several car alarms go off, the blaring echoes through the parking garage.

  I lift my hand from where I’m laying and the magic surges up from my gut and flies from my fingertips, darting across the space like a lightning bolt. My hair stands on end as the magic strikes twice in quick succession, but the woman leaps out of the way each time.

  “You won’t hit me, Olivia,” the woman says with a tinkling laugh. “But I could teach you how to.”

  I push myself up into a sitting position, panting as I try to catch my breath. Novak’s magic takes so much more out of me than the others.

  “Go to hell,” I bark at her.

  The wind shifts, pushing at me from my left side. I claw at the ground, but there is nothing for me to hold onto. The woman pulls a potion from the pocket of her robe. I don’t want to find out what it is.

  “Police!” Hawking’s voice cuts through the garage, drawing the attention of both of us. She’s striding forward, hands held by her sides, fingernails lengthening into claws. “Set the vial down carefully and back away from Olivia.”

  The woman snorts at Hawking and dismisses her.

  “This isn’t over.”

  A growl reverberates the area, followed by the snap of bones as Hawking shifts, her clothes simply ripping off her body as she morphs into a wolf. She howls, a sound that shakes me down to my bones and echoes painfully through the parking garage. It makes me want to run, even though I know I’m not the one being hunted.

  The witch’s face twists into irritation and she lifts her hand toward Hawking. The wind pushing at me stops suddenly and I leap at her as Hawking is hit with a rush of wind.

  My fist collides with her jaw, shooting pain through my hand. She stumbles back but catches me in the stomach with a kick. The next kick hits my face and I see stars. My knees hit the floor.

  Hawking leaps over me, teeth bared, but the woman is running away. Another push of wind keeps us pinned where we are, sliding slowly away from her. Hawking struggles against it, her head pushed low, but I know there’s no point. I’m nauseous and angry and despite my dangerous abilities, unable to kill even one air witch apparently.

  The wind ceases suddenly and I hear the quick slap of someone running coming from the direction of the elevators. I stay crouched on hands and knees. Hawking licks my face once, then darts off in the direction the woman ran.

  Someone kneels next to me, putting their hand on my back. I look up into Brunson’s worried face. I jerk away, dislodging his hand, and struggle to my feet.

  “Air witch,” I gasp. “Go help Hawking.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine! Just go!”

  Brunson sprints after his partner, gun drawn.

  As soon as he gets out of sight I dash for the elevators. I hit the button several times, but the elevator doesn’t open. I give up, and run for the stairwell, taking the steps two at a time.

  I’m gasping for breath by the time I hit floor three, but I don’t stop. My legs burn and my lungs ache, but I make it up the last flight of stairs and burst out of the stairwell. I look around, trying to gain my bearings. A nurse gives me an odd look, but people are frantic in hospitals all the time.

  I walk briskly down the hall I think Maybelle’s room is in. I scan each door for her name and finally find it. Her door is shut, but I don’t bother knocking. I push the door open, then freeze. The room is empty.

  “Everything alright?”

  I jump, startled, but see it’s the same nurse as before, with the purple scrubs.

  “Where is she?”

  “What are you talking about?” He asks, brows furrowed.

  “Maybelle, she’s gone,” I say pointing into the room.

  He pushes past me and looks into the room. When he turns back, his eyes are wide.

  “You said you lost the scent,” Brunson argued.

  “I did, but if we get Reilly out here, he might be able to catch something I missed,” Hawking says, hands on hips, staring Brunson down. “The older vampires can track better than I can. Especially in a well-trafficked area like that.”

  “I don’t think we should involve him this early, I don’t trust him,” Brunson says, crossing his arms.

  Hawking rolls her eyes and huffs. “You don’t trust anyone.”

  “I trust you.”

  “That took a couple of years,” Hawking says, smirking at him, her eyes crinkling around the edges with mirth.

  Brunson grins like it’s a well-worn conversation, made humorous because of the familiarity.

  I rest my elbows on my knees and put my face in my hands. For once I’m in agreement with Brunson, they should leave Reilly out of it. I’m not about to suggest that though. I also don’t think that Maybelle and Gerard were kidnapped again. They just fled and left me behind. I guess I deserve this after doing it to other people so many times.

  Hawking comes and plops down in the chair next to me, thumbs hooked around her belt buckle. It’s a taco today. I wonder if they’re all food themed. She must keep a collection of them in her car with her extra clothes. I had expected her to have to borrow some hospital scrubs after she had busted out of her clothes with her shift, but she had come back up dressed in another suit, gaudy belt buckle in place.

  “Did Maybelle say anything about who had taken her?” Hawking asks.

  I lean my head back against the wall.

  “She said they were insane.”

  Hawking barks out a laugh. “I think that’s a given.”

  My phone buzzes. I check it absentmindedly, but the message makes my fingers tighten around my phone.

  Meet us behind the Full Moon bar in two hours or we leave without you. Come alone.

  “Everything alright?” Hawking asks.

  “Yeah, sorry.” I try to smile, but I’m sure it looks more like a grimace. “Just Johnny asking how Maybelle is. It’ll be hard to break it to him that she’s gone again.”

  Brunson’s phone rings, he answers it and Hawking goes to stand next to him to listen in. I slip my phone back into my pocket and tap my fingers restlessly against my knee.

  I could stay. I could help them find the coven that killed my mother, and risk everyone finding out what I am, but I don’t want to live a life in servitude to the vampire council. Or the witch council. Or be killed by someone afraid I can steal their magic. There’s a chance I can find and kill this coven on my own if I get away now. I have to try that first.

  I’ve found the easiest way to sneak away from someone, is to make it look like you aren’t sneaking away. Walking anywhere with confidence makes it seem like you belong, and makes people far less likely to question you.

  I stand and walk out. Hawking’s eyes follow me, but she stays in the room with Brunson. I have two hours to go back to the clanhouse, get Mr. Muffins and anything that might be useful, and get to Full Moon.

  I fling the front door open, startling two of the neckers who were about to open the door themselves. One is the g
irl Patrick had hurt. She looks much brighter now and gives me a big smile as she steps out of my way.

  “Hi, Olivia,” she says, her accent slightly less thick now that she isn’t nervous.

  “Hey…” I realize I don’t actually know her name. I don’t know most of their names, I’ve never bothered to ask. It was easier to keep them all at arm’s length. I was their healer, not their friend.

  “It’s Abby,” she says with a smirk. “And this is Jackson. He’s new too.”

  The young man next to her extends his hand. He has blond hair and patchy scruff that doesn’t suit him. I’m sure that’ll be gone in a few days. Emilio has a way of cleaning them all up the first week they’re here.

  “Nice to meet you, Abby and Jackson,” I say shaking his hand. “I’ll see you around.”

  I start to walk past them, but Abby puts her hand on my arm.

  “Could you tell Patrick I’m really not mad next time you see him? He’s been avoiding me.”

  “Sure,” I say with a smile that doesn’t reach my eyes.

  I can’t, and the reminder that I’ll probably never see Patrick again twists in my gut, but there’s nothing I can do about it. I brush past them and race upstairs.

  Mr. Muffins looks up when I burst into my room, her tail twitching.

  “Time to go,” I mutter as I scan the room for the cat cage. It’s in the corner under a few dirty towels. I throw the towels on the floor and open the cage door.

  Mr. Muffins tenses, butt twitching like she’s going to pounce. Her lips curl back and she hisses at me.

  “No,” I say pointing at her sternly. “There is no time for this. We have to leave.”

  She meows and darts into the bathroom. I run after her and slam the door shut, trapping us both inside. She hates the cat carrier, but I’m not leaving her behind. She can claw me all she wants.

  I lunge, arms outstretched, and she jumps into the shower and tries to claw her way up the shower wall. I grab her with two hands, but she somehow twists and gets me with her claws and her teeth at the same time.

  “You cranky bitch!” I shout while trying to not squeeze her too hard. Her soft fur makes her slippery and she’s still flailing around, clawing at everything she can reach. I grit my teeth and push the door handle down with my foot, then kick the door open.

  I shove her into the cat cage and quickly slam the door shut. She attacks the door once, then curls into the back growling continuously.

  “I know you hate it,” I apologize. “But I’m not leaving you behind, okay?”

  Her tails whips from side to side and she hisses at me again.

  “Good talk,” I say patting the top of the cage and standing to look around the room. I can get more clothes, all I’m going to take are a few potions. Maybelle may still not be completely healed.

  I grab a bag and carefully set the potions inside. I toss a couple of clean shirts in on top as well, they’ll work as padding.

  The gun Lydia gave me is sitting on the top of the dresser. I consider leaving it, but I may need it. I tuck it into my waistband and pull my shirt over it to hide it.

  I hoist the bag onto my shoulder, then pick up Muffin’s cage. Her paws poke out the holes in the door and she meows pitifully.

  “I see you have moved on to bargaining. That’s not going to work either.”

  I check my phone. It’s been almost an hour since Gerard texted me. I have another hour to get to them.

  I peek my head out into the hall, which is empty. I slip out, kicking the door shut behind me with my foot and hurry toward the stairs. I get halfway down when I hear a knock on the door. I freeze, one foot hovering over the next step.

  They knock again, louder this time. Leslie comes from the direction of the kitchen and sees me standing on the stairs staring at the door. She rolls her eyes.

  “You could have answered it,” she says hand already turning the doorknob.

  “Leslie, wait!”

  She pulls the door open.

  A man with white hair and a long beard stands on the front porch, his hands clasped in front of him. He’s wearing robes. Black ones with long sleeves and strange symbol embroidered on the chest.

  “Can I help you?” She asks.

  “Are you Olivia Carter?” He asks, smiling serenely.

  “No,” Leslie says crossing her arms.

  The man lifts his hand and backhands Leslie. She flies backward and lands limp in the middle of the foyer, her head cracking against the wooden floor.

  The man steps inside, his eyes going straight toward me. Wind whistles through the open doorway.

  19

  I turn and sprint back up the stairs. I don’t know where to go, or if there is a way back out from up here, but I can’t take two of them. I couldn’t even take one of them in the parking garage, and that was with both hands free.

  Mr. Muffins is banging around in her cage, partially from me running, but mostly because she’s losing her shit. Wind is already whipping up the stairs behind me. I sprint toward my room, no plan other than getting a door between me and them, but the gust catches me around the shoulders and I hit the floor, hard.

  The cat cage bounces a foot away and Mr. Muffins shrieks angrily. The wind stops abruptly and I scramble toward the cat cage, grabbing it.

  A necker bursts out of one of the rooms, hair tousled, wearing yesterday’s clothes. I think she’s the one I saw Reilly feeding from last time. She opens her mouth to yell at me, but I don’t wait for her to speak.

  “Run!” I yell at her. “Wake Javier!”

  I sprint down the hall, searching frantically for Reilly’s room. I have no idea if he’s old enough to wake during the day, but I have to try.

  I open the door and see him lying in bed, completely unclothed except for a pair of silky boxers that really don’t leave much to the imagination. I run to his side, shove Mr. Muffins under the bed, and shake him violently, looking over my shoulder to see if they’ve found me yet.

  “Reilly, wake up, wake up,” I whisper harshly.

  His eyes twitch, but he doesn’t budge. I don’t have time to wait for this, and there’s only one thing I can think of that might wake him. I pry his mouth open and shove my wrist into it before I can hesitate anymore. His fangs pierce my skin painfully as his jaw clamps down around my wrist.

  His eyes fly open and his hands wrap around my arm. He sucks once, hard, and it makes my knees go weak with a combination of ill-timed pleasure and fear.

  “Reilly,” I gasp.

  He shoves my arm away from him and stares at me, breathing just as hard as I am.

  “What are you—“

  There’s an explosion in the hallway that shakes the entire house.

  “Don’t make us play hide and seek, Olivia,” the woman from the parking garage shouts. “You won’t like our technique.”

  “I don’t have time to explain,” I say, running toward the door.

  Reilly leaps out of bed and follows me, but his movements are slow and stilted.

  “I will not be at my usual strength with the sun still up,” he says as I put my hand on the doorknob.

  “Then just run, get anyone out you can,” I say before pulling the door open and stepping out to face this crazy bitch and whoever she has brought with her.

  The woman is standing at the end of the hall, a man beside her that looks exactly like her, even down to the length of his hair. They walk in sync toward me, a wide smile on her face, while his expression stays blank. The walls and carpet are scorched, whatever fire damaged them is gone now.

  A man with a long white beard walks behind them. A sick feeling tears through me. I recognize him from the cafe. I had forgotten it until now, but he bumped into me. He must have set the bombs.

  He’s wearing a black robe, which he unbuttons and drops to the floor. Underneath is a sleeveless shirt and strange, loose fitting pants that are tight at the ankle. Magic ripples down his arms and the muscles twist and bulge. A power type then.

  He runs at
me. I take a step back, but I won’t be able to dodge this. The door next to me swings open and Reilly steps out, landing a kick in the man’s stomach as he gets close. It stops the man in his tracks, but he grabs Reilly and tosses him back toward the stairs.

  He turns back to me, but the woman raises her hand.

  “Deal with the vampire, we will handle Olivia.”

  Reilly struggles to his feet and smiles at the bearded man. “You’re weak old man.”

  “Strong enough to crush you,” the man says in a deep, rumbling voice as he charges at Reilly.

  I have no time to see what happens next because the witch gets my attention with a rush of wind that forces me to stumble backward.

  “You will be coming with us today, Olivia,” the woman says. “I’ll give you this one chance to come peacefully.”

  “Like hell I will,” I snap. I’m pretty sure I’m screwed, but I’m not going down without a fight.

  The two attacking witches step forward in unison, almost as though they are dancing. The moves seem practiced, or at least familiar.

  I pull the gun from my waistband and point it at her, but the woman lifts her hands and moves them like she’s conducting an orchestra. Wind pummels me from every direction and I struggle to keep my footing. The gun is ripped from my hands and flies down the hallway.

  I send a single burst of electric magic toward her, but she steps out of the way without any effort. She pushes me back farther and farther until I hit the wall. Nowhere to run, no way to stop her.

  The wind ceases and she stares at me like I’m a specimen to be examined.

  “The goblin told us everything,” she says, walking toward me as I lean against the wall panting.

  “Only because you poisoned her,” I sneer.

  "We can teach you, Olivia," she says earnestly, like I never spoke. “The power you could wield is amazing. You just have to have the courage to take it.”

  “You are out of your mind,” I say, looking between her and her silent twin.

  “Here's your first lesson, dodging an offensive attack.”