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Blaze: A New Adult Urban Fantasy (Spelldrift: Coven of Fire Book 4)

Page 3

by Sierra Cross


  “I did the same research as you,” Liv interrupted. “I know it’s bleak, but that just means it’s time to try out new methods. I’ve come up with several ideas of my own.” She leaned in, and I could tell she was getting ready to geek out with a fellow magic nerd. “So, this is a highly experimental spell, but it just might work. I’m sure you’re familiar with extraction charms?” She turned to Matt and me, the relative magical ignoramuses. “Normally they’re used to separate metals in a liquid solution. But what if we rechanneled their energy—”

  “To separate souls in a human body?” Hayden smiled ruefully. “Impressive that you thought of it. It took me months before it dawned on me to try a soul extraction spell. But alas, it had no effect whatsoever.”

  “Oh.” Liv sat back, clearly trying to hide her disappointment. “Well, okay, what about throwing a protective web around Callie—”

  “Whose purpose is to keep your friend’s soul in and toss the Splinter’s out? Webs are a physical spell. They don’t work with souls, only bodies.”

  “Ok, I thought so.” Liv sighed. “But…here’s something. What if we injected her with nano-sized light magic particles? Over time—”

  “They’d cast out the demonic influence, molecule by molecule.” Hayden shook his head. “In theory at least. Problem is, in our situation you get moments to work, not months.”

  “So you’ve tried that tactic too?” Matt said.

  “Once,” Hayden admitted. “Not only did my attempt fail, I believe it acted as a vaccine that actually made the Splinter in Xavier stronger.”

  Liv looked too demoralized to speak, so I spoke up. “Still, what do we have to lose by at least trying to save Callie?”

  Hayden was silent.

  “Show them,” Asher said quietly. “Warn them like you warned me.”

  Hayden glanced out the window, looking for a minute as if he wanted to escape. Then he shrugged and pulled the leotard down off his shoulder. His sleek muscles were covered by a swath of puckered skin. The angry pink surface was twisted and bumpy, as if it were frosting applied by a small child—but it glowed from beneath with a pulsing green hue. Was that what a Splinter’s sear looked like? It must have been years ago, yet it still looked painful. Unhealed. He released the fabric, and the leotard snapped back into place. “If the host personality has strong emotional ties it can provoke the Splinter to lash out. To try to kill the objects of affection.” Hayden paused and swallowed hard. “The Splinter in Xavier couldn’t move on. He spent all his time trying to kill me.” Tears rolled down Hayden’s hollow cheeks. “That’s how I knew how much Xavier loved me.”

  An image flashed in my mind of Asher’s destroyed lab, the wards ripped to shreds, the brutality of the destruction. The Splinter inside Callie hated us…because Callie loved us. I couldn’t stop tears from rolling down my face.

  “Tell them what you had to do,” Asher said softly.

  “I did the only thing I could for the man I loved.” Hayden’s body was almost motionless, like he’d lost the fight to outrun the painful memory. “I put a firebolt through his brain.” And then the Professor collapsed into a sobbing wreck, lost to a past he’d never be able to escape.

  My booted footsteps landed heavily on the Wren Trail’s compacted dirt.

  It was Matt’s idea to make ourselves useful while waiting to hear from Larch, by coming out to the park to complete our weekly ward repair session. Normally this was one of our more fun tasks, but today the four of us spoke little as we hiked single-file deep into Caster’s Park. What was there to say? The implications of Hayden’s story were too fresh to talk about. I’d walked out of his leopard-print living room feeling like I’d exited a funeral.

  We’d just rounded the last bend when I felt a prickle in the magic that floated through the air. It was faint, so faint I wouldn’t have picked it up a month ago. But Asher’s training had heightened my senses. My blood pressure tightened. Two steps behind me, I heard Matt reach for his blades. Liv and Asher had called their magic. I was about to do the same when I realized the eerie tingle was all too familiar.

  “Stand down.” I shoved my hands in my pockets, pushed past a branch that stretched across the path, and crossed the outer ward. Aunt Jenn was sitting on a boulder, eating a sack lunch. Rather than her usual power suit and high heels, she wore top of the line REI hiking gear.

  “I see you’ve managed to breach our wards again.” I hated that my tone of voice revealed the depth of my annoyance.

  “Much as you seem to find it inconvenient, I’m a member of your bloodline too.” Calmly, Aunt Jenn held the steaming thermos to her lips and sipped. The aroma of tomato soup wafted through the air. “I don’t have to breach this outer ward, it lets me in.” With a jolt, I remembered she was right. Thank god that wasn’t the case with the inner ward. Her brown eyes fixed me with a pointed gaze. “Don’t you find it interesting, Alix? The ward doesn’t care about light versus dark. Only blood matters.”

  I looked away. I knew exactly what she was saying. “Well, that’s why we’re planning to rebuild the stupid thing, from the ground up.” I didn’t mention that we were still in search of that particular skill upgrade.

  “What are you doing here anyway?” Liv asked, matching my aunt’s snip. “Reminiscing?”

  “Pining for the good old days when you possessed a soul?” Asher added.

  Matt didn’t say a word, but took one step closer to her, stood to his full height, and let his blue magic course over the taut muscles of his arms.

  God, I loved my coven.

  “Fine.” Rolling her eyes, my aunt set down her steaming thermos and screwed its lid on. “I can see that my presence would hinder your work.” She packed the thermos into her lunch bag and stood. “Speaking of which, you’ve got some deterioration in the southwest corner. You should get on that before your report to the Witches Assembly,” she added with a note of superiority. “That’s due this week, isn’t it?”

  I shuddered. It was bad enough I had to deal with her, then she reminded me we were scheduled to face that passive-aggressive bunch of no-talents at their meeting tonight?

  My aunt was out through the ward and onto the path before I could throw a snotty comeback at her.

  “What the hell was she doing here?” Liv wondered aloud, suspicion in her tone.

  “Hardly would have guessed her to be the outdoorsy type,” Matt said.

  “She was, once,” I said. “She used to take me hiking all the time when I was twelve.” After my parents died. “Said it helped the grief move out of our bodies, into the fresh air…wait a minute!” I blurted out. “Masumi.”

  “You think your aunt’s grieving for her friend?” Matt asked.

  “Whoa, I kinda feel bad now,” Liv said.

  “Well, don’t. I’m sure her heart is as dark as her magic,” I snapped, but I was really talking to myself. Don’t do it. Don’t feel sorry for the dark witch who lied about everything. Don’t.

  Too late.

  “I know how much it hurts to lose someone you love.” Liv’s voice cracked with emotion. “Do you know that every time I come here, I think of Callie and the good times we had running around this park? Every day was an adventure.” A half-grin crossed her lips. “Hey, remember when Callie got obsessed with wanting us the three of us to pretend we were a coven? For ‘practice?’”

  “Oh yeah!” How had I forgotten that goofy, sweet memory? Answer: it was only a few months before the “bus accident.” All the memories from just before my parents’ death had been wrapped in mothballs in an attic in my mind. But Liv’s words had nudged open the attic door. “I said we were way too old to play pretend. But really, I was embarrassed to admit I had no clue what a real coven was supposed to do.”

  Liv nodded. “Me, too. None of us knew what to do. But Callie just said, ‘So what? We’ll make it up, together!’ God, right from the beginning. Fearless.”

  “I know.” I smiled at the memory of that small, stubborn red-headed girl. Callie was the b
aby of our trio, yet somehow she’d gotten ahead of us…how? Perhaps because she didn’t question her abilities or her destiny, like I had. She just couldn’t wait to get started. A depressing thought occurred to me. “Maybe Callie should have been the coven leader.” Instantly I regretted blurting that out. It was a sore spot between Liv and me. I’d never wanted to be leader. When the magic chose me over Liv—whose spellcasting skills beat the hell out of mine—I was no less bewildered than she was. We never talked about it, but it had become a pain point in our friendship.

  “Callie wouldn’t have cared who was leader,” Liv said, surprising me. “All she wanted was for us to be a coven, doing magic together. Wanted us to guard the Demongate.”

  “And she wanted us to kick demon ass,” Matt said.

  There was an infinitesimal pause as everyone—including me—registered we were talking about Callie in the past tense.

  “This hurts so much,” Liv whispered. Her blue eyes shone wet.

  “It hurts like hell,” Asher said, and to my surprise, he wrapped her in his strong arms in a comforting hug. I saw Liv fighting the tears—but not Asher’s brotherly embrace—even as her body rocked with grief.

  I couldn’t make myself voice the plan we needed to undertake.

  “We’re all on the same page then?” Matt’s face was stoically blank, but his voice was full of pain. “We need to set Callie free.”

  Liv sobbed loudly but didn’t protest.

  We needed to do the unspeakable. We needed to kill Callie.

  In the granite-walled Fidei lobby, the same young, burly receptionist greeted us as the very first time we were here. Given the stressful circumstances under which we’d been hauled in that day, I’d been too flustered to catch his name. This time I noticed his name tag read Carson, which could have been a first or last name.

  “Agent Larch is expecting you.” Walking so briskly I practically had to jog to keep up, Carson whisked us to the elevator, and swiped his key card for the fourth floor. Biceps bulged from the sleeves of his black Fidei uniform.

  “Something tells me that guy’s more than a receptionist,” Matt said, once the door had shut. “Or else the Fidei has stricter fitness requirements than the Marines.” The guardian in him, I knew, approved of that notion.

  “You should ask him to be workout buddies,” Liv said with a twinkle in her eye.

  “Yes, watchdog, you should pursue a friendship with that fit man,” Asher teased. “I’m sure Liv is only thinking of your best interests.”

  “Sorry, I already have the best workout partner.” Matt put his arm around me from behind, and I leaned back into his strong chest. I felt the heat of his hands along my ribs. Even that minuscule bit of contact sent shivers through my body. The need that lived at the center of my being was a constant ache.

  I would find a way to be with him. Once and for all I would silence Tenebris’s voice in my head.

  There was no handler waiting for us when the elevator doors opened. At least they trusted us to walk unsupervised past the cube farm to Larch’s office. Several uniformed Fidei recognized us and nodded in our direction. Slight difference from our last trip here when everyone thought we were criminals who needed to be locked up permanently. Maybe our coven still didn’t get much respect, but at least we’d come a long way from those days.

  Larch was leaning back in her desk chair, resting her polished fourteen eyelet boots on the file cabinet. The phone receiver was cradled between her ear and shoulder. She waved us in and pointed to the small conference table by the window. The four of us had just sat down when Larch hung up the phone.

  “Okay, I’ve got answers for you.” She grabbed a manila folder and a plastic evidence bag and moved to join us at the table.

  “We really appreciate your help,” Matt said. I was glad he had the poise to remember to thank her. My heart was too busy pounding to remember my manners. My brain raced through all the possibilities of what she would say.

  “Our teams work together.” Her tone was professional, neutral. If gratitude motivated her actions, it wasn’t evident on her face. “That’s what the Fidei-Magicborn alliance is all about.”

  “Right you are,” Asher said. “Hand in glove, wouldn’t you agree, Alix?” I knew he was being sarcastic—Fidei-Magicborn relations were uneasy at the best of times—but Larch seemed to miss the dig, or at least she let it go.

  “Tracking took longer than I anticipated.” She pulled my phone out of the evidence baggie and handed it to me. “As I suspected, we couldn’t do a straight digital trace. The sender had thrown an obscuring spell on the initiating device. That’s why we needed your phone.”

  “Wait, so you have a witch on staff?” Liv raised her eyebrows in surprise. “To reverse the spell.”

  Larch’s lip curled as if offended by the thought. “Your kind thinks that magic is the end all, be all,” she said. “But the digital signature is still there, to a skilled technician who knows what to look for. And we have plenty of those on staff.”

  She opened the folder and spread out several computer-printed maps. We all leaned in—and I blinked back surprise. The maps were all of the state of Michigan. The final page was a close-up of the southeast side of the Upper Peninsula.

  “The Midwest? Why the hell would she be there?” Liv sounded as shocked as I felt.

  “You asked me for a trace, the legwork’s up to you,” Larch said, with the wry tone of a jaded investigator who was surprised by nothing. “Looks like the call originated from the Wellspring Academy for Girls, just south of Traverse Bay.”

  “A light witches girl’s school?” I asked.

  “Archaic name,” Asher said. “Think of it more like a prestigious college for young witches. It’s exclusive. Very hard to get into. One needs to really shine magically to be accepted.”

  “That’s the last place I’d think a Splinter would want to go,” Liv said.

  “A Splinter?” Larch looked startled. “Do I need to alert the Fidei’s Northern Branch?”

  “No,” I said quickly. “We’ll take care of it.”

  “How?” Larch fixed me with a no-nonsense glare, and her voice took on the condescending tone I was used to hearing from her. “Splinters are usually a sign of demonic infestation. Your coven is tasked with wards.” She said the last word like it was child’s play. “You’re not trained or capable of handling complex possessions.”

  “It’s Callie,” I blurted out. “Our coven member has become…the host.”

  Larch swallowed. “I see.” She looked into each of our eyes, then sighed. “I’ll give you a week to get this under control,” she said finally. “But only because it’s your coven member.”

  “Thank you,” Liv said.

  Larch held up a hand. “I’ll leave this in your hands, out of respect for your coven connection. But if anything goes wrong, no matter how small, you notify the Northern Branch. That is not a request—”

  “We’ve got this, ma’am,” Matt said, polite but shutting her down cold.

  I was really liking this new Matt.

  Our packed bags filled every inch of my car’s trunk. We’d booked tickets on the red-eye to Marquette, Michigan. Reserved a rental car ready to take us the rest of the way. But before we could leave town, one final task loomed on our to-do list—and skipping was sadly not an option.

  As we filed down into the basement of the recently-repaired Council Suprema building, the tinny, miked voice that carried halfway up the stairs told us the Witches Assembly had already called its session to order. Matt and I looked at each other with dismay. Damn it, nailing down travel arrangements had made us late. Just what we needed to cement their low opinion of our coven.

  We power walked down the hallway, where the smell of brewed coffee mingled with the odor of fresh paint and new linoleum. Clearly, the damage from the recent coup attempt had reached all the way down here, and the scents of new construction were so strong I could barely detect the citrus and ginger and honey scents of all the light magic
in the room.

  Dozens of folding chairs were arranged around the long table in the front. Five chicly dressed witches sat in front of microphones, each with a nameplate in front of her. Witches and warlocks—mostly local shop owners with business issues—filled the seats. A few looked up with indifference or mild distaste as we shuffled in and stood awkwardly next to other latecomers by the lunchroom-style tables that flanked the back wall, each loaded with pastries on fancy paper plates.

  I’d never been to a PTA meeting, but this, I imagined, is what one would feel like.

  The meeting droned on for what felt like days. By the time they reached Agenda Item Sixteen B: expanding commercial zoning in Alchemy Row, I had to hold back a yawn despite being on my third cup of crappy coffee. Liv picked at her manicure. Asher was aggressively carb-loading brownies from the plate nearest to him. Matt, rebel that he was, actually looked like he was listening. We were an hour and a half into the meeting when our agenda item topped the list.

  “Next we’ll hear an update from the Coven of Fire,” said a well-coiffed blond witch. “Alix Hill? Please take the mic in the center aisle.” Inwardly I groaned at her condescending instruction. As if we hadn’t been here several times, or for that matter seen every other speaker take the center mic.

  Swallowing the last bite of brownie, I handed my coffee to Matt and walked to the mic stand. “Thank you, Assemblywoman Rogers.” I addressed her as Asher schooled me to, though I felt like a walking anachronism. “We’ve just come from the wards and can report they are all in good repair.” There, I made the perfunctory statement I was here to make. I didn’t embellish it. The Assembly seemed to be going through the motions of monitoring us but didn’t make it one of their priorities. I turned to go back to my seat.

  “Just a moment, Miss Hill.” Assemblywoman Hicks, a grey-haired witch with penetrating eyes, held up her hand. “We’ve had reports of spontaneous deterioration in the outer ward. Is that true.” It was a statement, not a question.

 

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