Black's Magic

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Black's Magic Page 6

by Cynthia Rayne


  She watched Rochester walk away with a smug smile. He was a coward at heart and she would beat him, powers or no powers.

  Vayne and Rowena stood in the main entrance hall. He dusted off his tuxedo jacket. “Well, that was interesting."

  "Why did we come here, Vayne? Do you really intend to leave the Coven?"

  "Who's leaving?"

  They turned to see Sinclair. He was dressed in a tuxedo as well. His red mask dangled form his fingers. He glared at Vayne. “You forgot to bring her to my home this afternoon. I'll have to keep her for an extra day."

  "Time flies when you're shagging."

  Rowena narrowed her eyes at Vayne. Naked male aggression left her cold.

  Sinclair offered his hand. “Care to dance?"

  "Love to.” Before Vayne could protest, Sinclair whisked her onto the ballroom dance floor. All around them, hundreds of masked wizards danced to destruction and the corruption of the world. She could hardly believe she stood among them, a hen in the fox house.

  Vayne watched from the edge of the dance floor as Sinclair pulled her in close to his body. Just for show, she relaxed against him.

  "I hardly recognize you with clothes on. Did you miss me, little slave?” Sinclair purred in her ear.

  "I'm not your slave. I never was.” She glanced at Vayne. She'd only agreed to a dance to piss him off. From the way he paced the floor, she'd wager it worked.

  "I beg to differ. Actually, you were the one who begged, if I recall."

  "How gentlemanly of you to remind me.” She looked in Vayne's direction again.

  Sinclair followed her line of sight. “You don't have feelings for him, do you?"

  "I—"

  "Oh, dear. It's all over you.” He cupped her chin in his hands and stared deep into her eyes. “You're besotted with him, aren't you?.” A fine, white line appeared his mouth.

  "I'm not besotted.” Not yet.

  "You're in love with that bastard all right.” He stared at Vayne, his eye twitched. “But just to be sure, I'd better test it.” He covered his mouth with hers before she could protest. While his kiss was pleasant, it didn't move her the way Vayne's had. When he pulled back, Sinclair shook his head. “Yep, you're in love with him. That was about as exciting as kissing a post."

  "I'm not feeling particularly randy at the moment,” Rowena quipped.

  "Not for me, at least.” Sinclair chuckled, but the laughter never reached his eyes.

  "Thorne doesn't deserve you, you know."

  "Does that mean you're bowing out?” Rowena asked curiously.

  He shrugged. “I've always grown bored with my women before. You are the first to tire of me so quickly."

  "I'm not tired of you."

  He cocked his head to the side. “No, but I'm no one's charity shag."

  Rowena smiled sadly. “So be it."

  Sinclair arched an eyebrow. “But you can't tell me that you didn't enjoy yourself in my bed."

  Rowena flushed. “It was ... quite pleasurable."

  "Pity. We could have quite a pair, you know. I might have even been able to stay with you for a few months. Wouldn't that have been fun?"

  She nodded, remembering the wicked time she'd had in his bed. “It would have been decadent.” Rowena sighed. The slow waltz was coming to an end. She reached up on tiptoe and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Do yourself a favor and get away from these people. They'll destroy you."

  He tipped her head and back and kissed her fiercely, putting all of his lust and anger into it. “If you ever tire of him, come back to me. I'll make sure you are satisfied."

  Sinclair escorted her back over to Vayne, who was bristling with rage. Sinclair bent over and kissed her hand. “Take care, Rowena.” He walked away from them both without a backward glance.

  Vayne grabbed her hand and tugged her out onto the empty balcony where they were both obscured by thick curtains. “Did you enjoy your dance?"

  "Are you jealous?"

  "Hell, yes,” He grabbed her up in arms, lifting her off her feet. “I love you!"

  "You love me?"

  "Maybe. I care about you. I think about you all the bloody time, even when I didn't know you."

  Rowena scowled. “I care about you, too!"

  "Well, that's ... that's ... wonderful!” Vayne whirled her in his arms and held her close.

  "Shh! Let me down before you draw any more attention to us,” she said, pushing away. He let her go and she met his gaze. “You know this won't work, don't you? You work for the Coven and I'm a sorcerer ... was a sorcerer."

  "We don't have anything to do with the Coven."

  "Yes, we do.” She took a deep breath. “Vayne, I let myself be captured so I could spy on all of you. I even spied on you."

  "Clever girl.” He sounded proud of her. “Did you find anything interesting?"

  "Yes, but not enough to bring the Coven down."

  "Thank you for telling me. I appreciate the honesty and to be honest, I figured as much. If you'd been that easy to capture, we'd have brought you in long ago."

  "Then you also know that this is hopeless between the two of us.” They stood only a few feet apart, but a cavern might as well have stood between them. They were too different.

  "What if I leave the Coven? Join the Alliance?"

  "You mean, as an informant? Vayne, they'd take your powers first off,” Rowena warned.

  "No, not as one of those bloody turncoats, I meant as a sorcerer. I can help, Rowena."

  She shook her head sadly. “Vayne, you've done deplorable things, I'm not sure that they'd every trust you."

  "I know I have a lot to atone for,” Vayne said sadly. “I joined when I'd barely gotten out of the school room. I did some bloody stupid things in the name of glory. I'm a different man than I was and I have a great deal of insider information. I've wanted out for a while, it isn't just for you. I know I can make a difference and I'm willing to prove it."

  "How?” Rowena asked.

  "What if I hand over the grimoire, the Coven's spell book? The Alliance could create counter curses for all of the spells in the book. I know where it's kept, in the ritual room in the dungeon."

  Rowena knew that would make a lot of difference to the Alliance, it would be a huge offering. She bet they'd agree to spare his powers and perhaps, in time, learn to trust him. “We need to get it. It'll help your case. Do you know anything else about the elections?"

  "I'm afraid not. I was asked to watch several of them, but I didn't know the true purpose. Rochester guards his secrets like the zealot that he is. I do know that the information you are looking for is in his study."

  Rowena nodded. “Good. Then, you'll retrieve the grimoire and I'll go after the election information. We'll meet up in the main hallway."

  He grabbed her arm. “No, we should go together."

  "We'll be more noticeable together."

  "I don't like this. It's too risky. You don't have even have powers."

  "But I do have my wits. I'll be fine.” Vayne looked unconvinced. “I promise.” She smiled at him, hoping she seemed more confident than she felt. “I'll go first and then you come out after a few minutes. We don't want to arouse any suspicions."

  Vayne pulled her into his arms and kissed her once more. His kiss rippled through her body all the way from her head to her toes. When he pulled back, they were both unsteady on their feet. Magic. “Right. Got to go spy now.” She exited the balcony on wobbly legs.

  Rowena snuck past the ballroom without drawing attention to herself. The study was easy enough to locate. Unfortunately, it was warded and the warden was sentient. The power pushed her gently away as she made a grab for the handle. If she had her powers, she could have blasted her way in. Now, she'd have to use a little persuasion.

  She tried again and a small golden dragon appeared. It undulated as it floated in the air. When it spoke, there was a slight hiss in its voice.

  "Who goesss there?"

  "Rowena Black,” she answered, s
quaring her shoulders. “Let me in."

  "You may not passs,” the dragon hissed. It blinked its ruby eyes and tilted its head to the side. “You don't feel like a warlock. You have no powersss."

  Rowena could feel her ire rising. “That's what you think. Let. Me. In."

  The dragon chuckled, amused by her anger. It floated onto her shoulder and snaked its head around to sniff her. “You usssed to have power. We're you a witch?"

  "What is this? The bloody inquisition? Are you going to let me in or ask me questions?"

  "I guesss. It's not asss if you can do any damage,” the dragon teased. “But only if he you say pleassse."

  "Fine. Please. Let. Me. In. NOW."

  The dragon laughed delightedly, spinning in the air as it raced to the door. “Temper. Temper."

  With a flick of its tail, the ward was removed and the doors fell open.

  "Finally."

  "What do you sssay?"

  "What are you? Emily Post?"

  The dragon looked at her expectantly. “No thank you, no entranccce."

  "Fine. Thank you, you little red-eyed pillock.” She slammed the door shut behind her.

  She made a face at Rochester's choice of décor. With its black furnishings and gold accents, it looked more like a hotel in Las Vegas, than a British castle. With a shrug, she raced to his desk and began rummaging through the drawers.

  After several minutes, Rowena discovered a file with a listing of all of the elections around the world. It appeared that the Coven planned to replace mortal leaders with warlocks. Over the period of a few years, a warlock would be in charge of all of the mortal nations on the planet. Rochester planned to enslave humanity by having legal power over them.

  "You are just as nosy as your father, poppet."

  Rowena smiled as she looked up from the file. Rochester stood in front of her, his wand at the ready. “It's time, then.” She tossed the file to the ground.

  "This should be a fast fight. You don't have powers anymore, little girl. Although, those weren't much of a help when you went up against me before, were they?"

  "I don't need powers to kill you, Rochester.” Rowena kicked off her high heels and removed her shawl.

  "Oh, and what do you need?"

  Rowena punched a hole into the pocket universe and retrieved her family's athame. “This!” It felt good in her hand. She knew she was going to win.

  Rochester flung another fire ball at her and she ducked it, leaving the fire to ignite his desk. She rounded on him, landing a kick to his midsection. Rochester doubled over. She cut his arm with the athame and he released his wand.

  "You little bitch! You'll pay for that."

  "Fine. What do I owe you?"

  Rochester recovered and grabbed her by the throat, squeezing. He lifted her off her feet. Dots danced before her eyes and Rowena couldn't gasp for her breath. She remembered the knife in her hands and she scraped it across his arm, laying it open to the bone.

  He dropped her and Rowena fell to the ground, gasping and coughing. The fire didn't help matters. It flooded the room with noxious smoke. Rochester came for her again, aiming his wand at her with deadly intent, but she swept a leg under him and dropped him to the ground. Before he could move, she plunged the athame deep into his chest.

  Rowena scrambled to her feet and stood over him, watching as the light slowly began to die in his eyes and blood poured forth from the fatal wound. Instead of feeling triumphant, she felt empty. Listless.

  "You know, I imagined killing you would be wonderful. I thought it would bring closure to my father's death, but it didn't. He's still dead and I still miss him."

  Rochester coughed, blood spilling from his mouth. “It isn't good for me either, poppet.” He reached for his wand, but she stepped on it, snapping it in two. They were even now.

  "Rowena! Are you alright?” Vayne burst into the room and she could hear the dragon snickering on the other side of the door.

  He glanced at Rochester. “I see the bastard got what he deserved.” Then he looked at Rowena, a tender expression on his face. “And so will you.” He aimed his wand at Rochester and whispered. “Seize!"

  "Vayne, no!” Rowena screamed.

  "No! Don't!” Rochester protested.

  But it was too late. Rochester's magic had already spilled into the room. Monstrous in size, it filled the entire room, a venomous black cloud buzzing with rage. Vayne moved his wand and it spun towards her.

  Rowena screamed as the cloud attacked her, seeping in through any opening it could find. It slid in through her nostrils, through her ears and eyes. His magic poured through her body, bringing evil with it. Rowena could feel Rochester's fear and his anger.

  His magic nearly strangled her.

  Rowena felt the magic settle into every pore, every cell of her body. It became part of her. Controlled her. When she finally opened her eyes, she felt like she stood in the center of a hurricane, only she was the hurricane.

  "Rowena? Are you okay?” Vayne asked, watching her with wide eyes.

  "I'm fine.” With a sinister grin, she leaned over Rochester, grabbed him by the hair and pulled his face toward hers. “Are you scared, Rochester?"

  With nothing left to lose, he told the truth. “Yes."

  Rowena laughed. “You should be.” With that, she waved her hand. “Exterminate!"

  "Ahhh!” Rochester screamed.

  His body caught fire and burned at such a high heat that he exploded into dust in her hands. She wiped them off and turned to Vayne. “Thanks for the power boost, lover.” Rowena stared at her hand a fire ball formed. She tossed it up in the air and down again, as though she played with a tennis ball.

  "Rowena? You've got to stop this."

  "Why?” She flung the fire ball at the desk, watching it join the fire. “I'm having fun. I thought I'd go down to the ballroom and have myself a little party. I could kill a few warlocks for the cause. What do you say?"

  "This isn't you. This is the black magic talking."

  "Wrong.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “This is me. The new and improved me and I have you to thank for it.” She tilted her head to the side. “But maybe you'd rather have a private party.” She crossed to Rochester's leather sofa. “Fancy a shag before we go downstairs?"

  "Rowena, I love you."

  She screamed, holding her head. The pain was unbearable. “Stop it!"

  "I love you, Rowena. Fight the darkness inside of you. Put it back in its box."

  Vayne tugged her in his arms and kissed her. He pulled back with a curse. “You taste like ashes. Fight this, Rowena. I love you!"

  Rowena screamed again, in agony. “Stop it!"

  Vayne kissed her again and she felt him. Felt the purity of his love, of their love flowing through her veins, pushing away the hate and the fear. Love shoved it to the side and allowed her to take control of her newfound magic. Vayne pulled back once more to watch her with anxious eyes. “Are you there? Is that you?"

  "It's me."

  "Are you okay?"

  Rowena smiled. “I think so. I love you, too, Vayne."

  "Good. Let's get out of this place.” He grabbed up the grimoire and the file. “We need to report back to the Alliance.” He turned to her. “Do you really think they'll spare my powers?"

  "Trust me. We uncovered a worldwide conspiracy, removed the Coven's leader, and retrieved their little black magic book. We've got some leverage."

  "I think I'm going to like being a sorcerer. I just hope I can make up for all that I did."

  "I have a lot to make for, too.” Rowena stared at the scorch mark that used to be Rochester. “This time I'm doing it for the right reasons. I want to help people, this isn't about a vendetta."

  Vayne took her hand in his. “We'll do this together."

  Rowena smiled. “Together. I like the sound of that."

  Epilogue

  London, England

  6 months later

  Rowena crouched behind a wall. In her hand, she held
her wand, poised to strike whenever the warlock showed himself.

  Over the past few months, the Alliance had gathered up most of the warlocks in the world. They were slowly ridding their society of them, neutralizing and returning the warlocks to the street like wayward alley cats.

  Vayne had proved to be invaluable. His timely defection had allowed them to bring down the Coven with minimal loss of blood.

  "Come out, come out wherever you are,” Rowena called. “Here kitty, kitty, kitty.” She couldn't help but smile, taunting them never failed to amuse her.

  The warlock struck, sending a bolt of energy into the wall behind her. The wall crumbled, sending bits of brick and mortar, exploding over her head. Rowena ducked and rolled, when she looked up, she saw Gareth, one of the last hold-outs. He was a formidable wizard, draped in yards of black fabric.

  "You know, you don't really blend in with the masses,” she said as she got to her feet and dusted herself off. “Everything about you says evil wizard."

  He gripped his wand, tighter, his rheumy eyes seethed with icy anger. “I know you bested Rochester but he was a fool."

  "Not really going to argue that point with you.” She continued to circle him, her wand raised and ready to strike if need be.

  "I am no fool, young lady."

  "Funny. From where I'm standing, you look pretty foolish, like Gandalf the crazy,” she said with a shrug. “But what do I know?"

  Gareth raised his chin. “I doubt your knowledge is as extensive as mine, child. I will best you and use your powers to strengthen my own."

  Rowena was far from intimidated. His aim sucked and he was used to having his toadies do the heavy magical lifting. Sans toadies, Gareth was pretty much a sitting duck. “As evil plans goes, it could be worse, but you probably shouldn't have told me that. It's always best to keep it a secret until you attack. Tends to throw the enemy off."

  With that, she raised her hand and shot out a magical force field from her wrist, sort of like a magical net that settled over him.

  Surprisingly, Gareth threw it off. He sucked in a deep breath, coughing a little in the process and blew, sending the net back at her.

  Rowena blocked it with her wrist and it settled on the ground at her feet. “That wasn't nice."

  He blew out another gust of air that contained flies. Hundreds of buzzing, biting flies that pelted her.

 

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