Sinful Magic: A Wing Slayer Novel

by Jennifer Lyon

  It was such a relief. She felt better after laughing like an idiot. It had released the horrible knot sitting below her rib cage ever since being kidnapped and taken to Liam. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” Darcy dropped her arm, but stayed next to her. “Let’s try again. This time, I want you to consciously open as many chakras as you can, then control the energy to light the orange candle.”

  She closed her eyes and concentrated, picturing the red sphere of energy, and felt her first chakra pop. “One.”

  “Keep going,” Ailish encouraged.

  She mentally moved up her spine and pictured orange. She had to work harder, but that one finally burst open. She kept going, finding it a struggle to open three chakras, and by then her schema was growing hungry, the pain piercing.

  She couldn’t force her fourth chakra open, so she began working on control.

  Key drove, while Phoenix flew on ahead with Axel. The location of the storage yard was just up the street from the Rogue Cadre stronghold.

  “What do you see?” Key asked into his Bluetooth, tense with leftover sexual arousal, bloodlust, and the need to kill Liam.

  This might be his chance.

  Except, why would Liam demand Roxy and not the Dragon Tear? That kept nagging at the edge of his brain, but he needed to stay focused on what he was doing. Liam was dangerous. Too fast even for a rogue.

  Phoenix answered, “Three rows of storage garages—the middle one is double-sided—and an office trailer with a chain-link fence surrounding it all. The gate is open, and there are two black SUVs parked at the trailer. Don’t see anyone inside, but hard to be sure.”

  “I’m circling,” Axel said. “Don’t see anyone on the roofs, but rogues could be hiding beneath the overhangs of the roof in the shadows, under or in the cars, and that trailer is big enough to hold fifteen men.”

  “No sign of the kid or his mother?” They needed to know where they were to protect them.

  “Not so far,” Axel said.

  Another voice broke in. “I’ve enlarged the picture text and enhanced the quality,” Sutton said, working from the warehouse. “Both of them are lying on a cement floor. If they haven’t moved them, they must be in one of the storage units.”

  Key pulled up two blocks from the strip mall where all the Wing Slayer Hunters were gathering to plan their strategy. The storage unit was two blocks away. He switched to his headset, then quietly slid out of the truck and strode around to the back alley that boasted broken asphalt, trash, and a rusted Dumpster that did little to shield the three big witch hunters. The first was Ram Virtos, one of the original five Wing Slayer Hunters. He was ex-military, had a thunderbird tattoo, and lived by the code of duty and discipline. Linc Dillinger stood next to him and was the newest full Wing Slayer Hunter. He often wore designer clothes to match his excessive charm, but beneath that was a feral fighter. And the third was Eli Stone; he had the outline of a griffin tattoo on his back and was just waiting for his test. Once he passed, the hunters would have an Induction Ceremony, and if their god finished the tattoo, Eli would be a full member of the Wing Slayer Hunters. Sutton was doing their technical backup at the warehouse, while Axel and Phoenix were doing recon from the air.

  Key strode up to the three waiting hunters. “Since Roxy’s not here, the direct approach won’t work. As soon as Mack and the rest see me without her, they’ll know it’s an attack.”

  Ram looked at his watch. “Fourteen minutes to his deadline.” Lifting his steel blue gaze, he said, “If Sutton’s right, we have enough time to spread out and locate the victims.”

  “Everyone goes invisible,” Key added. “We can’t tip our hand.”

  Ram said, “They’ll be safer if we leave them in the unit, with one hunter protecting it until we neutralize the threat.”

  “Unless they have someone in the unit with them,” Linc pointed out in his velvet-smooth voice. “It’s what I would do.”

  “Shit,” Key muttered. Linc was a high-stakes gambler and obviously damned successful at it judging by his house in Vegas. Not to mention that he drove a cherry Viper and had a Rolex for each day of the week. All the highlights in his casually tousled hair weren’t from the hand of nature either. Glancing at Linc again, he noticed that he’d dressed down, black fatigue pants and T-shirt.

  “Good point.” Ram began ticking off a new plan. “Simultaneous attacks. Locate the victims. Assess the target, how many and where, then we launch attack and rescue at the same time. Two hunters on the vics, rest on the target.” He looked at the three hunters standing around him. “We have to assume rogues are here, maybe even Quinn Young and his Immortal Death Dagger.”

  The only antidote for that dagger burned into the leader of the rogues’ arm was the blood of a bonded soul mirror. “The Rogue Cadre is just down the road. It’s also possible the mini–Death Daggers might be around,” Key pointed out. So far, they knew only about the mini–Death Daggers that protected the headquarters. Young grew them on his body; they had a very limited range and had to be recharged somehow. Sinister as hell.

  “We’ve been looking from the air,” Phoenix said through their headsets. “Haven’t seen any yet.”

  Eli said, “I’ll take the vics.” His light green eyes blazed against the darker skin.

  Since Eli hadn’t yet passed his test to become a full Wing Slayer Hunter, Key was uneasy leaving the lives of Tyler and his mom in his hands. “Who else?”

  “I’ll back him up from the air,” Axel said as he landed in the middle of the alley.

  Key looked over. Axel’s brown and gold eagle wings were spread wide, a span of at least twelve feet, before he folded them behind him.

  Phoenix touched down next, his bright blue and purple phoenix wings a startling contrast to the man himself.

  “Thirteen minutes,” Ram said. “Find the vics, then assess the targets. We’ll divide the units into four rows. Linc, you take the first row, Eli the second, Axel the third, I’ll take the fourth. Key, you work with Phoenix to assess the trailer and the perimeter. Any questions?”

  Everyone deferred to Ram’s military experience. When no one had questions, Key said to Phoenix, “I’ll take the trailer and SUVs, you check the perimeter.”

  Phoenix nodded, and they all used their ability to bend light and shield themselves to appear invisible.

  “Just over twelve minutes until the stated deadline, go.”

  Key turned and ran, covering the two blocks in less than a minute. He would approach from the ground and Phoenix from the air. They’d worked together for so long, they both knew their roles. Getting to the storage unit, Key slowed and moved as lightly as he could. The road was asphalt, making it easier to cover his tracks, but rogues also had enhanced hearing. He passed the two SUVs. Both had blackout windows. He edged along the front of the vehicles and didn’t see anyone inside. He dropped to the ground and looked beneath the vehicle; nothing. He didn’t hear any sound either, so he cleared the SUVs and moved on to the trailer. It was a standard office trailer, approximately thirty-two by ten feet, and set with the back close to the chain-link fence and the front looking toward the parking lot and the storage units.

  Key heard several voices and movement inside. He prowled around the back, sliding between the fence and the trailer to look through the first window. Two big men were sitting on folding chairs, their soft faces and hairless arms contrasting sharply with their super-bulked muscles. They were rogue, and they each held knives. A middle-aged, frightened woman sat on another chair. Key assumed she was the employee or owner. He slid up to the other window.

  Mack stood across from him by the first door, watching the parking lot through a window in the upper half of the door with a gun hanging from his right hand. There was another rogue in there with him.

  Key moved out and went to the rows of garages. Standing in a shadow he took out his phone and texted that there were two rogues and a civilian in the back, Mack and a rogue in the front of the trailer.

 
Phoenix texted back that he’d found an SUV with at least four more rogues a half mile up the street under a tree, undetectable from the air.

  “Noise in unit twenty-three,” Eli texted. “Muffled breathing and moans.”

  Key felt a spike of adrenaline at Eli’s report—that must be Tyler and his mom.

  “My row is clear, moving to twenty-three,” Axel responded.

  “Clear,” Linc messaged.

  “Clear,” Ram added.

  “I’m behind the row of units closest to the trailer,” Key texted.

  “Linc, meet me there,” Ram instructed.

  “I’m here,” Phoenix sent his message.

  Key felt the presence as the other three hunters joined him.

  “Six minutes,” Ram spoke aloud, so quiet Key had to strain to hear. “Key, you go in the front. Linc you’re in the back. Phoenix, go cut off that truck, and I’ll back you up. Axel, can you get in the air, stick close to Eli until one of us calls for backup?”

  “Yes.”

  “Go,” Ram said.

  Key slipped his knife from his holster and took off running. When he got to the steps, he leaped over them, landed, and jerked the door open.

  In his peripheral vision he saw the door on his left slam open and knew that was Linc. He focused on his job. Mack stumbled, then lifted the gun.

  Key seized his wrist and squeezed. The bones crunched and Mack screamed, dropping to his knees, and the gun fell to the floor. Hearing movement, Key shoved Mack aside just as the other rogue jumped up and lunged.

  Key pivoted into a full roundhouse and slammed his boot into the rogue’s ear, throwing him five feet into the wall.

  The crash rocked the trailer. Key heard and felt the fight from the other end. He ran after the rogue and shoved his knife into his heart. Then he twisted, making damned sure to shred it and send the bastard to his eternity as a shade.

  “Where’s Roxy?” Mack said in a thin, panting voice behind him.

  Key pulled his knife free, then swung around and saw Mack had picked up the gun. This man had tricked Roxy to get a picture of her schema, then abducted her and handed her over to Liam. Icy hot rage gathered in his chest. “Where are Tyler and his mom?”

  Mack was on his knees; his face was sweaty pale, his right hand hung useless. But he managed to level the gun with his left. “Give me Roxy.”

  “Not a fucking chance.”

  He pointed the muzzle at Key’s knee and fired.

  Key sprang up, over the path of the bullet, crashed into Mack and landed on top of him. Before Mack could breathe, he caught his shattered right wrist and squeezed. “Where are they, dickhead?” He increased the pressure more and more.

  “Twenty-three!” he screamed.

  Key buried his knife in his chest, stopping his heart before he’d finished his scream.

  Mack’s eyes widened, then the life drained out. Key usually didn’t kill humans. Too easy. Too much like his father beating on him. But Mack had signed his own death warrant by taking Roxy to Liam.

  Getting up, he yanked out his phone and texted, “Targets dead, vics in twenty-three. Status?” Then he went to the connecting door to the back office. It was quiet but for a woman’s sobbing. He opened the door.

  Two rogues lay dead on the floor, and Linc had his arm around the woman. “I’ll text it in,” he said, and typed out “Linc’s targets dead, civilian safe.”

  Ram texted, “Four rogues in SUV dead.”

  Key looked down. Nothing from Eli. Shit. He turned, burst out the door, leaped down the steps and hauled ass to unit twenty-three. In a second, Key took in the scene. The lock on the door was in pieces on the ground; the door was up. Three dead rogues littered the front. In the dark interior, more folding chairs were scattered, one more dead rogue and Tyler and his mom tied up, tape on their mouths, both of them staring at Axel leaning over Eli. There was a knife in the unconscious hunter’s back. “Think it nicked the heart,” Axel said. “He’s losing too much blood!”

  Key ripped off his shirt, dropped to his knee, and pressed it around the knife. “Want me to get my truck?”

  Axel shook his head. “Sutton’s bringing Carla here. We just have to keep him alive.” He looked up to Key. “Eli forced the door. The rogues inside rushed him and the fourth went for the woman with his knife. Eli threw himself between them, saved her.”

  Key knew Axel had killed the ones out front. He looked down at the man he hadn’t been sure of. Axel had ripped his shirt away from the wound, also revealing the outline of the griffin Key had inked on Eli’s back. There was a long cut from the blade sliding across his skin, before the rogue had pushed it in. Returning his gaze to his hawk, he knew. “His test?”

  “Yes. Saving a woman and a kid.”

  Key put his hand on the man’s shoulder, “Hold on, Eli. Carla will be here.” That’s why Sutton had stayed back in the warehouse and kept Carla with him, so he could fly her here faster to help with life-threatening wounds.

  The unit filled up as Ram and Phoenix came in. “Ah fuck,” Phoenix snarled when he saw Eli.

  Ram crouched next to Key, his silence heavy.

  “Sutton’s here,” Axel said. “Move.”

  Key went to Tyler, while Phoenix went to Paige. Key ripped the tape off the boy’s mouth. “You’re safe now, kid.”

  Tyler stared up at Key. “He was going to kill my mom.”

  “I know. Phoenix has your mom, see? She’s safe.”

  The boy turned to see Phoenix remove the tape, then cut the ropes with his knife.

  “I’m going to cut your ropes, and then you can go to her. Hold still.” He slid his knife in and sliced the rope on his arms; then he freed the boy’s legs.

  Sutton ran in, still carrying Carla. His wings were out, but folded to allow him to get into the unit.

  Tyler’s eyes widened.

  Sutton set Carla on her feet, and she dropped down next to Eli, across from Axel. “Sutton, I need your blood. Axel, your knife.”

  Without question, he handed her his knife. Carla sliced her palm and gave it back. “Ram, hold him down. Axel, on three, pull out the blade.”

  Axel sheathed his knife, then grabbed the hilt of the blade in Eli’s back.

  Sutton knelt behind Carla, sliced his palm, and waited.

  Carla said, “One, two, three.”

  Axel pulled the knife free with a wet pop. Carla pressed her hand down on the wound. Sutton put his next to hers. Then she began to chant, her witch-shimmer brightening.

  “What are they doing?”

  He looked at Tyler’s too-white face. “Healing him. Carla’s a doctor.” Of psychology, and she was using witchcraft, not medicine, to heal Eli, but Tyler was in shock and terrified. The simplest answer was best.

  Paige put her arms around Tyler. “Thank you. That man there, he saved my life. Probably Tyler’s—” She choked and started to cry.

  Phoenix wrapped his arm around her shoulder. “Paige, I’m sorry, but I swear this won’t happen again. We’ll keep you safe.”

  “Mom, don’t cry. Key and Phoenix are superheroes. Like Dyfyr.” Tyler pressed himself into his mom’s side.

  Key was so furious that he’d let this happen, he opened his mouth to tell the kid that wasn’t true.

  Phoenix cut him off by saying, “You got it, dude.” He eyed Key over their head.

  Key got the message; the boy needed a superhero.

  “He’s awake,” Axel said. “Carla, thank you.”

  Eli sat up. “I felt that knife go deep, I can’t believe I’m alive.” He reached over and grasped Carla’s hand. “Thank you. I felt your magic pulling me back.”

  She smiled, looking a little wan, but relieved.

  Sutton sat back, and pulled her onto his lap. “Sit here until the pain is gone, Carly.”

  Key watched the way Sutton cradled her, the look of pride in her on his face, the way he kept touching her, drawing off the pain of healing Eli. Carla’s witch-shimmer was losing the ragged edge of red pain, and she
relaxed against him. What was it like to be soul-deep partners like that? For a second, he thought of Roxy …

  Then he remembered holding Vivian’s body as she died, and cold dread spread in him. Love like that was too fragile, too unreliable, or maybe it just wasn’t real at all. You want to go to the hockey game with me, son? The voice was so real in his memory. Key had been six, and playing in front of the house. He should have known better, but there’d been something in him that craved his father’s love. Approval. Attention. Maybe even being hurt was better than being ignored. He’d said yes. Followed his dad out, gotten into his truck, and then his dad got in and locked the doors. He brought out a pair of pliers and broke every bone in his hand. One by one. Key had vomited all over his dad, but he hadn’t screamed, hadn’t cried. Even that young, he knew his father was hurting him to try to force his mother to turn over the Dragon Tear. In frustration, his dad had laid on the horn to get his mother’s attention.

  Beth had run out, seen what had happened. Even now, Key remembered her tortured face. She’d gotten the jack out of the car and had broken the window. She’d taken Key away from his dad and the magic in the Tear helped heal his hand. She’d cried, “You’re destroying me, Key! Don’t you know to run from your father? If you could just figure out how to wake the dragon.”

  He hadn’t been able to grasp how he was destroying her. But now, yeah, he got that she had wanted Dyfyr to wake up and grant her immortality for returning his Tear. Then the Tear would be gone and his father wouldn’t have any reason to stay around. His mother obviously hadn’t known what would wake Dyfyr; she was operating on flawed information and a lot of delusion. Much like a compulsive gambler has just enough small wins to believe in the big jackpot, his mother had seen enough small wins, like finding the Tear and seeing the magic in it, that she absolutely believed she’d achieve the big win of immortality. She couldn’t give up or that would mean that she had put her son in a position to be hurt, over and over, for no reason. You’re destroying me, Key. It echoed in his head, those words defining him … He jerked himself out of his memories and met Sutton’s icy gaze. Watching him. Key forced himself to relax.