I wasn’t letting them all get away. Not again.
I started to run and searing agony flared up my leg. I faltered, tripping, my leg screaming in pain. Elmer shot off a final spell but missed, his aim wild. He turned and ran after his friends.
I took a deep breath and, grabbing my sword, ran after him. I forced my leg to move, to support me. I clenched my teeth against the hurt and jumped on Elmer’s back. He fell to the ground right in front of the tree line. I pressed my sword against the back of his neck.
“Who are you guys? The Order of Black?” I demanded. “Or just some idiots playing with fire that’s going to get them killed.”
“Screw you,” he said. Despite his bravado, his voice was rough and shaky.
I pressed the blade harder, drawing a thin line of blood. “How many of you are there? Who’s in charge?”
“If I tell you that, I’m dead anyway,” he said.
I didn’t move. I sat on his back, my heart slamming into my ribs, holding my sword against him. “Tell me!”
“Go to Midnight,” he said. “That’s all I can say.”
“Not enough, buck.” Anger roared through me. I wasn’t a killer but in that moment, hot rage burned inside of me and I wanted to lop this guy’s head off.
“You use demon magic,” he said, giving me an accusatory look.
The words hit their mark, sure as any spell. “Not like you.”
He snorted. “Doesn’t seem that different, lady.”
I pressed my sword harder against his throat. Rage burned in me. “How are you harvesting demon magic?”
He started to answer but another ball of magic came flying out of the trees. I had to push off of him to dodge the blast. It slammed into the ground, throwing up bits of dirt and dandelion. The minute my weight was off him, Elmer jumped up and ran for it.
I swore, started to follow. My leg refused to cooperate. Instead, I gathered a fireball in my palm and waited to make sure they weren’t going to attack again. After a long moment of silence, I hobbled back to Conor and Lana, hoping like hell Conor wasn’t dead.
Chapter 17
Conor was still breathing. I tried to take his pulse but my hands were shaking too hard. At least he was alive. Some of the pressure eased in my chest. I went over to Lana, who was in worse shape. She’d gotten the blast in the face and had been thrown like a rag doll. I could only imagine she’d hit the ground hard. Conor had been on the stairs.
I bent down next to her. She was breathing, too, but it was shallow. One side of her face was scraped to hell but it looked like it was from landing in the pavement and not the explosion itself. Her eyes opened and closed as if she couldn’t keep them open.
She tried to sit up and I urged her to lie back down.
“It’s okay,” I said. My hearing was still watery.
She groaned and sat up despite my protests, gripping her head as if scared it might roll off her shoulders if she didn’t hold it in place. She glanced backward, toward the raging fire, and winced.
For the first time, I really looked at the house. What had been a large, three-story rectangle had imploded in the center, the roof totally gone. Fire licked up the sides of the building, warming the air. Ashes floated around like snow. Most of the windows had been blown out by the explosion and the one remaining window, on the second floor, was black with soot.
Lana saw Conor and let out a moan loud enough that I could hear it. She crawled toward him, eventually pushing to her feet. She stumbled and I caught her. She shot me a look but then let me walk her to Conor’s side. Conor’s eyes were open. He was staring up at the sky, his mouth agape.
He looked from Lana to me as we hovered over him.
“It exploded,” he said, his voice gravelly. He had dirt on his face and scrapes on his hands.
“Yeah,” I said. “It did.”
“Are you all right?” Lana demanded. She still had blood smeared all over her face and neck but from what I could tell, the cuts were small, although I did spy a small pebble of glass jutting out of her cheek.
“I think so,” Conor said. I extended a hand down to him. He took it and pulled himself up into a sitting position. There, he assessed his condition.
“I smell ichor,” Lana said suddenly.
My heart managed to find a higher speed. I swallowed uneasily.
“The bombers sent a clean-up crew,” I explained. Lana stiffened. “I took care of them,” I added quickly. She stared off into the trees, like more bad guys might materialize. After the week I’d had, I honestly wouldn’t be surprised if they did, but I thought I’d gotten rid of them (for now). I’d actually burned one of them badly and if they didn’t take him off to heal, he’d be in deep shit.
They’d expected the explosion to kill us, or at least take us all out of commission. But Mohawk had apparently set the bomb off too early. If we’d been inside the house, we wouldn’t have survived. Guess we were lucky he had an itchy trigger finger.
Conor frowned, looking right at me. My stomach lurched. His brow knit and I could see him putting together pieces of some mental puzzle.
He had been unconscious when I’d used my magic, right? Because the way he was looking at me…
I shook myself. He hadn’t seen. He didn’t know. He couldn’t know.
It had been risky and stupid to use it. But what choice did I have? My sword, preternaturally sharp though it was, wasn’t really a match for three brimstone-laden mages with endless firepower. As it stood, I could barely walk. My leg needed a massage, Conor’s healing potion, and a week propped in front of the television. Come to think of it, so did the rest of me.
“I’m fine,” I said, acting like his concern was worry for me, not about me, and hoping that was true.
“You fought off a group of them alone?” he finally asked.
“It was only two.” A lie, but easier to believe than that I’d fought off three of them. “I guess they expected us to be inside the house when it blew up. They were probably just meant to confirm our demise, and didn’t expect any of us to be in fighting shape.”
“It’s lucky you were,” Lana said, but there was a strange note to her voice. My heart continued to pound. I thought of her eyes opening and closing sleepily. Just how long had she been drifting in and out? Long enough to catch snippets of me throwing demon fire? Had she lifted her head and caught a glimpse of my illegal power?
I forced myself to take a breath and relax. She hadn’t. I wouldn’t let myself think anything else.
“It’s lucky we were all far enough back not to get caught in that.” I gestured at the burning mess of wood. My muscles ached and my head pounded. I probably should have felt worse but I was probably in shock. I was used to monsters jumping out at me. I wasn’t used to things literally blowing up in my face.
Lana pulled a phone out of her pocket.
“What are you doing?” I asked, my voice going up an octave. I cleared my throat, tried to remain calm.
Lana gestured at the fire. “Calling for backup.”
Conor got to his feet and dusted himself off, not that it did much good. His gray pants and vest were now caked with dirt and grime. I didn’t look any better. My jeans looked like I’d rolled around in the dirt.
Exhausted, I leaned against Conor’s car. My brain was bouncing from place to place, not wanting to settle on one thought. The pain was getting worse as the shock and adrenaline wore off.
To take my mind off it, I thought about Midnight, the club, and the demon shadows I’d seen around Wilder, the club’s owner. I needed to tell Lana and Conor, but both were engaged in conversation about what had happened. I wanted to go bang down the club’s door and demand answers but without a ride of my own, I was stuck waiting, at least until I got impatient enough to try and hail a car.
At some point, two more Watcher cars (a black SUV and a sleek sedan) pulled up. Watchers had sirens in their cars but they rarely got used: they usually preferred a stealthier approach. Sirens were reserved for getting through mo
rtal traffic when necessary and little else.
The Watchers grouped together to discuss their action plan, so I hobbled over. The moment I pushed my way into the circle, the man speaking clamped his mouth shut. He shot a pointed look at me and then a questioning one at Lana.
“Miss Warren,” Lana said, “this is Watcher business.”
I glared at her. “I almost got blown up and then saved your ass from rogue mages with demon-amplified magic.” One of the Watchers sucked in a breath. “This is my business, too.”
Lana’s eyes widened. She bent closer to Conor and whispered something to him. Normally I had pretty good hearing but the explosion had done a number on my ears. Conor stepped forward, into the circle, and then up to me.
He met my eyes and gave me a pleading look. “Why don’t I drive you home?”
“You’re not serious,” I said. All of the Watchers quickly averted their eyes except Lana, who kept her arms folded over her chest and her eyes directly on me.
Conor leaned forward. “Trust me,” he mouthed.
But I didn’t trust him.
I wanted to but how could I when he was shutting me out? Looking at Lana’s hardened face, her jaw clenched tight, and the way the other Watchers all stared at the ground, I knew I wasn’t going to win this fight. Lana was in charge and she didn’t want me around while her team combed over the scene.
Fine, I thought. Let her waste time combing through that pile of ash and coming up empty.
I had a lead. One I no longer felt obligated to share. If she wanted to shut me out, two could play at that game.
I didn’t need their help. And since having them along prevented me from using my demon magic unless they were knocked unconscious, they were more of a hindrance anyhow.
I was going to do what I did with all of my cases and solve this alone.
I turned away from Conor and headed to his car.
“You want another?” Riley asked warily, watching me chug my beer like it was the water of life. I nodded, the glass still against my lips as I finished downing the contents.
I set the empty glass down and Riley replaced it with a full one.
“Bad night?” he asked.
“No, great night. Really swell.” I sipped at my new beer, because getting wasted wasn’t going to help. But I also needed to blow off some steam.
During the car ride, Conor had tried to thank me for my help and promised to keep me up to date on their investigation, including letting me know when they had a suspect in custody. It had been an olive branch, but not one I wanted.
I’d literally saved their lives—those mages would have cut them down while they were still on the ground from the explosion—and the thanks I got was to be shown the door.
And if I was honest, I was a little scared that Lana had seen me use my demon magic, and that was why she’d had me dragged away. Though surely if that was the case, she’d have had me taken to the dungeon instead. Still, I couldn’t seem to shake the uneasy feeling that I’d been caught.
A woman in a gray jersey t-shirt sat next to me, even though there were plenty of seats at the bar. I hated when people did that. There was no need to crowd strangers.
She ordered a gin and tonic and gave me a weak smile. “You look rough,” she said. She had short black hair in a sharp pixie cut and tan skin. She extended a hand in my direction. “I’m Maria Reyes.”
Even if I had been into women, I wasn’t in the mood to flirt. So I ignored her hand and picked up my beer. “I’m not your type,” I said.
She snorted. “No, you’re really not. I prefer folks who keep their noses clean.” She reached over and plucked a dead leaf out of my hair, holding it up to show me. “And their hair.”
“Thanks,” I said, shifting away from her.
I’d come to this bar to get a few drinks and plot my next move. Obviously I needed to check out Midnight, but I couldn’t rule out the possibility it was another trap like the halfway house had been, so I had to ask around first. And let’s face it, I was in no shape to do that tonight. Between the physical injuries and the exhaustion from using so much demon fire, I was wiped out and barely sitting upright.
My new neighbor’s drink arrived and so did my plate of nachos. I didn’t feel hungry—I was struggling to feel anything but tired and uneasy—but I knew I needed to eat so I pulled a cheesy chip off the pile, dunked it into the little cup of salsa, and popped it into my mouth.
“They think you’re in on it,” Maria said. She was staring straight ahead, into the dingy mirror behind the liquor bottles at the back of the bar.
“What?” I asked, mouth full of chip.
Maria looked around and leaned closer, speaking in a low voice. “The Watchers. They think you’re working with the mages.”
I blinked. Forced myself to swallow. Stared at this strange woman. The gray of her shirt hadn’t struck me as particularly Watcher-like but now I felt like I was being spied on. “You’re one of them.”
She shrugged. “I’m a witch who needed a job. But I like you.”
I made a face.
“I’ve read your file.”
“I have a file?” I didn’t know why I was surprised—of course I did. The Magic Council probably had files on everyone in the supernatural community.
She took a long swig of her gin and tonic.
My patience was fraying. “Why on Earth do they think I’m working with the assholes who tried to blow us to bits?”
“I’m not privy to the details. Something about how you keep managing to escape the attackers but never bring one in. And how you hung back at the house before it…” She mimed an explosion with her fingers.
A shiver ran down my spine. “I hung back because I—”
Because I was using my shadow sight.
Ice rushed into my veins. I couldn’t say that to this Watcher, even if she was ostensibly on my side. That was still demon magic no witch should have.
“I don’t know.” I sighed heavily. “I wasn’t in a damn hurry. Who cares?”
“I’m just repeating what I’ve heard.” She took another swig of her drink, leaving only ice in the glass, and stood. “I just thought you should be warned. I know I’d want to be.”
“Yeah, thanks,” I said.
Anger flared inside me, but it didn’t totally mask the hurt. I hadn’t thought Conor and I were going to be best friends forever or anything, but I’d started to appreciate him as a fellow investigator. He was dogged and determined and wanted to get the bad guys. And now he thought I was with the bad guys.
The worst part was, it made sense. If you didn’t know I had demon magic, the best explanation for me repeatedly kicking the butts of these groups of mages was that they were letting me go and vice versa. I could see Lana being suspicious, but Conor should have known better. Especially after that bomb.
I shouldn’t have cared that Conor had turned on me but I did. It felt like a betrayal after the working relationship I’d stupidly thought we’d built.
And worse still, if the Watchers suspected me, it meant I was being followed. Maria might even be on the team assigned to watch me.
So that meant I was on an even tighter timeline to get this wrapped up and catch the real gang of mages, before I got arrested and had it all pinned on me.
Which was just freaking great.
Chapter 18
I didn’t love being around vampires. I didn’t loathe them like most witches, who often thought of them as abominations of magic, the result of a supernatural mistake that allowed the undead to live in perpetuity, frozen in time. Sure, I didn’t want to join their ranks any more than I wanted them sucking on my throat, but I could respect them as people.
That didn’t mean I enjoyed playing their games. And they always played games. Eternity must be boring.
But bored people—even the preternaturally undead kind—loved gossip. And gossip usually had some gems hidden in it if you know what to listen for. So sometimes I went to them to see what the word on the street
was. Silas, my landlord, was notably bad about keeping up with things, but he had friends who were tapped into the vein, so to speak.
This time, though, I had someone specific I wanted to talk to before I stormed into Midnight.
“You haven’t visited in forever,” the Lady Vera said, clapping her hands together in delight.
“I need to speak with Alaric,” I said.
Vera, a pale woman who dressed like it was still 1880 and she was expecting to have tea with Mr. Darcy at any moment, frowned deeply and shook her head, her red curls bobbing around her face. “Alaric is indisposed.”
Alaric was a vampire who’d once attempted a coup of the local vampire hierarchy by using demon blood to enhance his power. He killed several of the vampires in charge. When they finally managed to stop him and exsanguinate the demon blood out of him, they decided to show him mercy, perhaps because he’d been turned by Vera, the only vampire leader left alive.
Instead of putting him out in the sunlight to perish, they’d locked him in the attic of Lady Vera’s house and she fed him blood pouches, keeping him like a pet. I knew because she’d once hired me to steal a shipment of blood pouches from a local blood bank. I’d been broke and desperate to take the job, even though stealing was usually where I drew the line. Funny how those moral lines got blurry when you were hungry.
“Please, Lady Vera,” I said, with as much respect as I could muster. I’d even worn my best jeans, the pair with no rips or holes, a teal blouse that wasn’t a t-shirt, and I’d put on mascara and lipstick. This was as dressed up as I ever got by choice. “Some mortals are using demon power to increase their magic. I need to ask him questions.”
She bristled. “Such a line of inquiry is highly inappropriate—”
“They tried to blow me up last night. With a bomb.” Lady Vera looked unimpressed. I sighed. “These guys, these mages, are running around with demon-fueled magic. I don’t know the extent of it, only that they don’t seem to run out of firepower. I thought it would help to talk to someone who might know some of their tricks.”
Demon Fire (Brimstone Magic Book 1) Page 12
