Water & Flame (Witches of the Elements Series Book 1)

by Alejandra Vega

  The fireballs were powerful, but the shield Abbie had put up absorbed them. For now.

  Ben swiveled his gun toward Margaret. Abbie saw on his face that he was warring with himself. He knew she wasn’t his mother, but he had a lifetime of conditioning to battle against.

  Within seconds, he had made his decision. He fired several times until the gun in his hand clicked impotently when he pulled the trigger. Throwing it to the ground, he drew the other gun from the shoulder holster and fired at Margaret until that gun, also, was empty. Only then did he pause to see the effects of his attack.

  There were none.

  Apparently, Margaret had put up a shield as well, one that protected her from the bullets. As with the earlier projectiles fired at Helen, every one flared and then disappeared before they could strike Margaret.

  The entire exchange took mere seconds, time Abbie used to strengthen her shield and begin a more powerful attack spell. Helen had recovered and rushed toward them, this time angling to attack Abbie instead of Ben. She had been judged the more dangerous of the two.

  “Ben,” Abbie said through her labored breaths, “get out of here. Run. I’ll hold them off.”

  Ben turned to her, but his eyes were wide and glazed. He was in shock not only from firing at the woman he had always thought was his mother, but because the bullets had no effect. Knowing what that meant must have stunned him.

  Helen left the floor, diving at Abigail, as she completed the spell she had meant for Margaret. With no other alternative, she loosed it on the fire shifter.

  A massive force of hardened water erupted from Abigail’s outstretched hands, catching Helen Shapiro in midair. She spun away like a leaf in a hurricane, flipping head over feet. Halfway to the wall of the room, she reverted to human form, the flame not able to survive the concentrated water power.

  She struck the far wall flat, her feet toward the ground and her head right side up. Abbie didn’t hear the sound of the impact, but she could imagine it. The entire wall shook and the nearest window blew out in a shower of glass. As Helen bounced to the ground and then lay still, Abbie had no doubt the woman was dead. A bloody crater in the wall’s wood paneling was the only indication she needed.

  Her foe defeated, Abbie turned her attention to Margaret Huntsman. She had been casting a powerful spell also and was just about to release it. Not at her, though.

  At Ben.

  Abigail drew as much of her power as she could. The attack on Helen had exhausted her. She knew, even as she poured as much of her vital energy as she could into the shield around Ben, that it wouldn’t be enough. Margaret knew she would be weakened. Maybe she even purposely sacrificed her friend in a strategic move to win the battle. The fire witch could kill Ben and then turn her attention to Abigail.

  They would both be weakened, but Margaret Huntsman was at least an eighth level witch according to all the information the water witches in her coven could gather. She wouldn’t know Abigail’s strength, but since there were so few ninth or tenth levels, she could safely assume that in a weakened state, she could still overpower Abigail. She was right. Abigail was barely at the seventh level of power, and that was when she was fresh.

  Still, Abbie had no thought for herself. If there was any way she could protect Ben, she had to do so. She drew more deeply into her power than she had ever done before, scratching for every little scrap of it to shield him. All the moisture in the air was brought in and utilized. She wished there was a lake close by to lend her its power. If she failed and Ben died, she didn’t really care if she lived or died, anyway. She would deal with that later. Right now, Ben was all.

  Margaret let loose with a blast of focused energy more powerful than Abigail had ever experienced. She saw it as a wall of flame, but she felt the power of the thing, much stronger than mundane fire. It made every cell in her body vibrate. At her strongest, she didn’t think she could deflect that much power with her shield. But she had to try.

  She watched in horror as the flame swept her shield away as if it did not even exist. Her heart dropped when she realized that Ben would be burned to ash in moments. Time slowed, each second an eternity. It was like dreams she had where the entire world was in slow motion.

  She blinked away the ash and dust from her eyes. She widened her eyes and her mouth dropped open.

  Ben was glowing. Not from the wall of fire coming at him, but from within. She watched as he…oscillated. A thin layer of something flickered around him, changing almost too fast to track. A bit of what looked like flame, a layer of the dust from the surrounding air, a swirling like a wind made visible, and splashes of water. The water she saw more easily, not just water but water magic. What was going on?

  In two blinks, the layers she had seen coalesced into some type of barrier made of pure white light. She didn’t even have time to speak, couldn’t raise a finger to help. As if she would know what to do or be able to help in any way.

  When Margaret’s attack reached the light surrounding Ben, the breath caught in Abigail’s throat. She wanted to look away, but she could not.

  The wall of fire struck the barrier and was absorbed. It disappeared into it, like a stream of water into a sponge. Abbie’s heart started beating again. Rapidly.

  Then the power came back out of the barrier, reflected back toward its caster.

  Margaret Huntsman’s eyes grew to twice their normal size and the smirk she had been wearing disappeared to a thin line. She was as surprised as Abbie. Ben’s face held a look of fear mixed with surprise and wonder.

  The magic, even more powerful than it had been before, was still flame, but it had other elements mixed in with it. The color had changed, almost disappeared, but if the original attack was the most powerful thing Abbie had ever felt, this surely must be the most powerful thing ever to exist. It hurt to be near it, made her body ache like she would be torn apart.

  It all happened so fast that no one could react. The power slammed into Margaret and threw her back so quickly she was barely visible.

  Abbie blinked and when she was able to focus on the woman once more, her hand went to her mouth and she let out a small gasp. Margaret Huntsman, head of Huntsman Enterprises, level eight fire witch, murderer and schemer, was actually embedded in the wall, a series of shelves broken from her impact, books and broken items still sliding off to crash on the floor. Her clothes had been burned off and her skin was blackened, bubbled and cracked from the flames. That shouldn’t be possible for a fire witch. Her head had flattened into a splattered mush as it was forced against the strong outer wall. She was obviously dead.

  All around, the room was burning. Abbie reached for her power to create another water shield, but she was far too weak. The thought of dying now in the fire resulting from the battle made her want to giggle insanely, but she was too tired even for that. At least she would die with Ben.

  Ben.

  She looked over to see him. He was unharmed but his eyes were glassy as if he was in shock. She wondered if whatever magic had saved him would keep him from dying in the more mundane fire they were facing now.

  The question died in her thoughts when it started raining. Hard.

  No, not rain, but the fire sprinklers embedded in the ceiling. Abigail breathed for the first time in what seemed like hours and let the cooling water wash over her. They may just survive after all.

  Ben’s eyes locked onto hers and she saw them become lucid. “We better get out of here,” he said. “I’d rather no one ever know we were here.”

  She nodded her agreement and took his offered hand. The remaining windows in the room had been blown out in that final blast, so they stepped out through one of the full-length holes that used to hold glass. A few dozen feet into the surrounding trees and they were off toward their car.

  As they ran toward their waiting vehicle, Abbie’s mind whirled. They had survived. And they had killed Margaret Huntsman. Her mother was avenged and future deaths would be prevented. She looked over at Ben, looking the same
as he had always looked, but a bit more bedraggled. What had he done? Or what had been done to him?

  Something in her mind wondered if it was safe to be with him, but she cast the thought out immediately. No matter what that power was, he was still Ben. She trusted him with her life. They’d get to the bottom of this thing. Once they escaped.

  Chapter 39

  They drove straight through back to Abigail’s house. Ben glanced over at Abbie. She looked exhausted, but he didn’t think she was hurt. They were wet, smelled like smoke, and there were singe marks in a few places on their clothing, so they couldn’t stop and change without arousing suspicion. Neither of them thought they were seen by anyone at the estate itself. She was asleep in moments and remained so until they pulled up to Aqua Terra.

  “Abigail!” A tall, solid-looking older man said as he caught sight of the two of them entering the house. “What happened? Are you all right?” His eyes flicked to Ben and then back to Abbie. “You must be Ben. I’m glad to finally meet you.” He held out his hand and Ben shook it.

  It was a firm handshake, and Abigail’s father had the same calming effect as his daughter, maybe more so. Ben felt some of his stress melt away when the man looked at him.

  “Papa, we have a lot to tell you, but first we need to get into some dry clothes. Do you think Ben could use some of yours?”

  “Of course, of course. Yes, get cleaned up and dry and we can talk in my study. I’ll wait there for you. Is there anything else you need from me until then?”

  “Just this,” Abigail said as she hugged him tightly and kissed his cheek. “Sorry for the mess. I just kind of needed that.”

  Abbie’s Father smiled at his daughter. “No worries. I can get some clean clothes on now, too. You’re covered in ash.”

  Within half an hour, Abigail led Ben to her father’s study. When they entered, he was surprised to find several other people in the room.

  “I thought it would be a good idea to have the Council hear this,” Landon said. “If I was wrong, we can just talk with the three of us.”

  Abbie looked to Ben, and he gave her a nod. “No, it’s fine. It involves everyone here. Would it be too much to ask to have Isabella join us? Is she here?”

  “She is,” Charlotte said. “She’s been doing research here. I’ll have her notified.” One of the other witches went to retrieve the researcher.

  Ben shifted his feet under the table. He looked to Abigail, but she seemed to be deep in thought, her eyes focused on nothing. He caught the eyes of a few of the five people at the table and he tried to smile at them, but after the events of the night, the wild swings of emotion, he was too exhausted to manage it.

  “While we are waiting for Isabella, why don’t we introduce ourselves?” an older pale yellow-haired woman in a smart business suit said. “Please forgive us our rudeness. We are all a bit out of sorts at the moment in anticipation of your news. I am Charlotte Whinson.” He nodded to her as they shook hands.

  “Ava Martin,” another woman, said. Her wide smile made her cheeks color. She was small and thick bodied with blue eyes and bobbed blonde hair.

  “Hi, Ben. I’m Sophia Hill, and this is my husband Julian,” a tall, thin woman said, gesturing to a man who looked like he could have been her brother, maybe a twin. Ben shook hands with both of them.

  “And we’ve met,” Landon said, putting his hand on Ben’s shoulder. “Everyone, this is Ben Mason.”

  Isabella came through the door, Abbie’s friend Zoe right on her heels. Isabella waved to Ben and Zoe winked at him. “I hope it’s okay that I asked Zoe to come. She has information that may be important.”

  “That is fine,” Charlotte said, “Okay. We are all here. Now please tell us what happened, Abigail.”

  Abbie looked at Ben and took a deep breath. He smiled at her and nodded.

  “Margaret Huntsman is dead,” she said. “As of about”—Abbie looked at her phone—“five hours ago.”

  Several of those present sighed.

  Abbie continued. “Isabella has confirmed that Margaret was the one who killed my mother, proven by the unique signature of her magic, which she tested on Ben himself.” She motioned toward him. “She had been casting spells on him, increasing the frequency and duration lately. I’m not sure why.”

  Zoe cleared her throat. “I’ve been thinking about that and I have a theory. I believe Margaret Huntsman may have had a talent for forcing people to do her will. A sort of magical compulsion. That would explain why she would be casting spells on him and why, as he became more difficult to control, she would do so more often.”

  “That doesn’t make any sense,” Abigail said. “Why—”

  “I think that’s what happened,” Ben said. “There are too many holes in my memory, too many times when Lucas, or even you, Abbie, saw me acting irrationally, incoherently, or just plain out of character. I do believe she was trying to use some kind of mind control on me. If that’s even possible. I felt, at different times, headaches, pressure in my brain, thoughts that weren’t my own intruding.”

  “It is not an unknown talent,” Landon Henderson said. “It is possible, but to have to increase the power over such a long period of time, that is puzzling.”

  “Unless he began to develop a resistance to the magic,” Zoe said. “There are cases in which a warlock or witch who has not yet come into their power suddenly shows a resistance to magic used on them or around them. Is Ben a warlock, then?”

  “No,” Ben said quickly. “I am not a warlock.”

  Abigail looked at him thoughtfully, as if going over something in her head.

  “Abbie?” Ben said.

  Abigail took his hand and squeezed it. “Let me finish the events of tonight and then maybe things will be clearer.

  “I told Ben about Margaret, how she was a fire witch and how she has murdered several people that we know of, probably more. I explained to him what Zoe and Isabella found about his past. Margaret killed his mother and took her place and then, when she was satisfied with the financial holdings of Ben’s father, killed him, too. Ben went to confront Margaret tonight, and I went with him.

  “When we got there, Margaret’s friend Helen Shapiro was with her. Ben asked Margaret about his mother and things happened quickly after that. Ben had two handguns, but as you know, those are not much use against a witch who knows you have them. But something completely unexpected happened.

  “Helen turned into a creature of living flame. A fire shifter.”

  Gasps and exclamations erupted in the room.

  “Calm down,” Charlotte said. “Let us at least try to act like we’re the leaders of the coven.” The others looked at their hands in embarrassment.

  Abbie continued. “I always believed legends of elemental shifters were just that, legends, but I saw her change. I was able to defeat her with Trasin’s wave, but at the cost of not being able to shield Ben against Margaret’s powerful flame attack. I thought he would be killed, but there was another surprise.

  “As I watched, helpless, a glow around him changed from water magic to fire magic, to air, to earth, and then finally to pure, white light. When Margaret’s magic struck his shield, it was absorbed, magnified, and cast back at the woman. It blew the room apart, burned her clothes and much of her skin off her, and crushed her body against the wall. Everything close to Ben turned to ash.”

  Ben looked around the room. The expressions on the faces around him ranged from surprise to curiosity to certainty, these last accompanied by nods.

  “It should be impossible for a fire witch to be burned that badly,” Isabella said.

  “That’s what I thought, too,” Abbie said.

  “What did you find out about his parents?” Charlotte asked.

  “Just what Abbie said,” Zoe answered.

  “That’s not good enough. We need to find out his lineage. Does he have elemental magic in his blood? Is he, perhaps, in a family that has had a series of skips?” Charlotte turned to Ben, “Have you ever shown an
y magical abilities? Ever? Any type at all?”

  “No, of course not. I’m just a regular guy. An…only.”

  Charlotte frowned at Abigail over that, for some reason, but didn’t say anything about it.

  “There are two important things here,” Landon said. “One is that elemental shifters are real. The other is that—whether it is related or not—Ben has a talent for withstanding very powerful magic. And turning it back on the user. We will have to learn more about both of these. With your permission on the second one, of course.” He nodded toward Ben, and Ben returned the gesture.

  “There is one other thing,” Ava Martin added. “It is possible that both Abigail and Ben could be charged with the murder of Margaret Huntsman.”

  “No,” Abbie said. “No one saw us. The fire looked like some kind of explosion, and the estate’s fire sprinkler system activated and put the fire out, so at least the rest of the house was safe. We walked out the window, which had been blown out, went through the trees, and left in Ben’s car which was parked a half a mile away. Everything between Ben and Margaret looked to have been destroyed by the heat. I don’t think there were even shells from the guns left.”

  “Ben, you will have to go there soon, as soon as it would be practical that you would hear about it,” Charlotte said.

  Ben’s phone rang. It caught him by surprise because very few people had his new number. He pulled it out of his pocket and subtly looked at the screen. It was Lucas.

  “Oh, I better take this. Excuse me.” He thought for a moment and then changed his mind. “Actually, maybe it’s better that I put it on speaker.”

  Lucas’s voice came over the speaker. “Dude, your house just exploded!”

  “What? What are you talking about Lucas? Take a breath and calm down.”

  “It’s on the news. There was some kind of explosion at the estate. I don’t know how bad it is or if anyone was hurt, but some of the neighbors more than a mile away felt the jolt, like it was an earthquake. There were reports of the sound of several smaller explosions and then one big one.”