Of Light And Fire (Burned By Magic Series Book 1)

by Gina Shafer

  “You okay?” I ask her.

  “Huh? Oh… yeah. Peachy,” She tears her eyes away from me again and stares down at her hands. I finish dressing and sit down next to her on the bed.

  “Karina, I just wanted to let you know how sorry I am for the other day, for kissing you like that. It was wrong of me,” I tell her what I hope she wants to hear. What I hope will get us back to normal.

  “It was wrong?” She asks, finally locking eyes with me.

  “Yes,” I answer, though I’m not so sure. It seems like it should feel wrong. But I’m beginning to forget all about right and wrong now that our faces are so close.

  I’m having trouble thinking about anything other than kissing her again.

  “What is so wrong about it?” She asks me, her hands threading through one another.

  “Well… I…” I stop talking. I have no real reason for her. No excuse. Vara and I never had a contract binding our marriage, hell I don’t even consider myself married to her anymore. I could never forgive her. I just… it all feels too fresh. Too raw. I cant move on with Karina yet. I cant trust someone again… not yet.

  “Elijah…” Karina whispers, looking down again. “It’s fine. I understand, okay? You need time. We can just be friends.” She holds her hand out for mine to shake, and I do. Though I don’t agree. Because no matter how many times I say that things between us are wrong… it wont change the way they feel right. I don’t want to just be her friend. But I shake her hand anyway, watching as the worry fades from her face when I do.

  Karina picks herself up off the corner of the room, and I watch her walk into the bathroom. Soon after I hear the water start, Soren calls out from the bottom of the staircase that he’s ready to start our training. I remember his reluctance to train with me when I mentioned it this morning, so I hope it goes well. The last time we were anywhere close to training together, I was teaching a little boy the difference between a pistol and a revolver. The man I am about to face is much more capable than I could have dreamed that five-year-old would have grown into.

  My back hits the ground with force, knocking the air from my lungs. I haven’t been hit this hard in a very long time, and my body knows it. I have to fight to drag myself off the grass and spit the mouth full of blood out onto the dirt. When I’m on my feet again, I catch Soren with a ghost of a smile on his face. It must be funny, kicking your old man’s ass. Though we’re closer in age than any other father and son, for the past twenty years I’ve been out of the action and my muscles feel the ache of no practice. My senses are spot on, but my body is too slow to keep up. Again, I’m filled with annoyance. Not with my son, but with the fact that I was lying around for so long, and that I’m out of shape because of it. Now I have catching up to do, and I intend to every day. From now until it’s time for us to fight Abe and his demon following.

  “Again,” I say before brushing the back of my hand over my mouth, wiping away the crimson collecting around the corners. I square my shoulders and glance to Karina, whose brows are set deep in a frown. I know she doesn’t like this. She sees through my need for training, sees so deep that she knows I’m punishing myself. I look away from her, feeling too raw to be laid bare before her.

  “Are you sure, Dad?” Soren asks me, his voice lower than normal, and I can tell he’s losing his edge. He’s starting to feel guilty for putting me through this. In answer, I charge him. My body collides with his and forces him backwards, smashing us both into the lemon tree in the corner of the yard. The same tree Soren remembered he was standing next to when he saw Vara’s eyes turn demonic.

  I hear Karina burst out in a giggle before I have the chance to sit up and detangle myself from my son’s arms. When I pull back, I realize he’s got me in a headlock.

  Damn. He’s good.

  I punch at the edges of him, hearing a deep grunt when I reach past his arms and connect with his middle. He releases my head slightly, just enough for me to escape from his clutches and to wrap my fingers around his wrists. The smile that I notice was lingering on his face begins to fall when he realizes that I’ve just gained the upper hand. This time it’s my turn to smile, and I do. I even let out a little chuckle as I flip him over to his stomach and wrench his hands past the middle of his back, feeling his arms protest against the strain.

  “Okay, okay! I give, let me go!” Soren laughs and cries, and I release his fingers after a beat.

  “No matter how long it takes, the fight is never over until it’s over,” I whisper to him before standing and helping him to his feet. His eyes meet mine for a moment and I can see that my words struck a cord. I was only able to gain the upper hand because Soren let his guard down. He started smiling, getting cocky, and that’s where he failed. He knows that.

  I clap my hand on his shoulder as Karina walks up to us. She hasn’t been out here long, and something tells me that she didn’t come out here just to watch us play-fight. I lift my eyebrows toward her in question.

  “Got anything?” I ask, hoping that this time she finally will.

  She shakes her head and pulls a spoon out from behind her back, covered in a red sauce, and brings it to my lips for a taste. I wrap my mouth around the edge of the spoon and groan when I taste the mixture of tomatoes with spices and garlic.

  “But I made spaghetti.” She smiles, and glides back into the house through the sliding glass doors.

  I look to Soren, who nudges my shoulder and heads toward the house in Karina’s wake.

  I guess its dinnertime.

  After we finish with dinner, I decide to search the garage for some of my old workout equipment. It’s been a long time since I’ve been in here. But, to be honest, it doesn’t feel that long ago. To me, it feels like just a few days ago that I spent most of my free time out here training. The punching bag hangs in the corner, covered with dust—the only true sign that it’s been twenty years since anything in this room was touched.

  I run my finger over the top of the workbench in the corner of the room, illuminated by the fluorescent bulb overhead. A smooth trail now runs through the tabletop, and the remnants of the dust coat my finger like a film from the past. I wipe my finger on my jeans and keep moving in search of a broom. My body slams to a halt when I catch the corner of something familiar stacked behind a small toolbox sitting on the table.

  My journal.

  I reach across the distance and swipe the journal, bringing it close like it’s worth more than just paper and binding. When I crack the cover open, the memories hit me like a thousand punches to my gut. I remember the night that I started writing in this damn journal, the look on Vara’s face when she asked me to do something about my nightmares. The look on Vara’s face when she lied to me about everything. I pull up a chair and read that last entry, already knowing full well what memory I’m about to be thrown into from about a month before I was taken from Soren.

  Vara is pissed at me. I’m not sure why I took Soren for a late night drive; I just wanted to get him out of the house. Give him time to be a regular kid when he’s surrounded by all of the carnage that makes up our life. The kid just wanted some damn ice cream, and I remembered a little place about an hour away that used to have the best vanilla scoops I’ve ever had. My son should be able to have dessert whenever he wants. He shouldn’t have to be on the lookout for demons left and right every time he leaves the house.

  But, that’s the way it is now. So I can’t really combat Vara’s angry feelings with thoughts of happiness and hope. It was incredibly stupid of me and I shouldn’t have taken him out of the house unprotected, especially at night. Especially considering his father is a Sicarri leader.

  Other families have it different; they’re not as bound to indiscretion as we are. They don’t have to have an entourage every time they leave the house because the demons are just waiting for them to slip up.

  That’s how we live, Vara, Soren, and me. We live in constant alert. Now, don’t get me wrong, Soren can play outside in the yard, he has friends over, we
make it as normal as possible for him to live a normal childhood. But, it’s dangerous.

  And I can never take him for ice cream…

  When my eyes lift from the page, I open a few drawers in the cabinet at my waist, searching for a pen. I have no idea what I’m doing until I hear the faintly familiar scratch of pen to paper and watch as the ink bleeds across the page. For the first time since before all of this happened with Vara, I let everything out through my fingertips until it’s scribbled all along the journal. I write about the betrayal, the fear, about Soren and Karina. After I get it all out, I throw down the journal and it lands with a heavy thud onto the tabletop, kicking up dust with it. I take a deep breath and then let it go, deciding to go for a run to clear the thoughts that still swim in my head.

  “What in the fuck are you doing here?” I hear Ted’s booming voice from the living room, and I know whoever it is, this isn’t going to be good. I pause with my drink of water at my lips and lean toward the commotion to get a better listen. I just returned from my long run and the sound of my heavy breathing frustrates me. I to step forward, planning on confronting whatever it is with the others.

  I hear a man’s voice, speaking low, but I can’t make out what they’re saying, so I walk farther toward the noise. When I reach the living room threshold, I freeze.

  “Hi, Elijah. I was hoping we could talk for a moment,” Lincoln says. Ted hasn’t let him enter yet, so there he stands on my old front porch with the face of my best friend.

  “About what? How did you even find us?” I ask, finally able to move my feet. I walk forward and stop just before the threshold of the front door. Karina and Soren move to step behind me on either side, and damn does it feel good that they have my back. I hadn’t realized they had followed me from the kitchen table. Even Willow moves to stand beneath my feet, her teeth bared at the sight of Lincoln.

  “I followed you. I’ve been squatting in the empty house across the street,” he replies. I feel more than hear Ted’s rumble of a groan bounce off my chest from somewhere in the room. He takes surveillance very seriously, and I know he’s ticked that Lincoln got one over on him.

  “I want to join you,” Lincoln says, straight-faced. Is he joking? Every single person in the room laughs, including myself, until we realize…

  He’s serious.

  Lincoln’s face hasn’t moved. What kind of demon is this? I think back to all the times I’ve spoken to him and realize he’s only been forthcoming with information. Information I needed. So far, he hasn’t withheld anything from me that I know of. Though he has an extremely annoying way of coming out with it, he has only helped our cause.

  Am I crazy to even be considering this?

  “Why in the hell would we trust you?” Soren asks. Willow, the loyal backup she’s come to be, growls, punctuating Soren’s question.

  “Well, for starters, you need me,” Lincoln replies, crossing his arms across his chest.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me. There’s no way we would ever need a demon to have our backs.” Xo stands from the sofa in the corner of the living room and moves toward Lincoln, stopping only when Marcel reaches out to place a hand on his chest. Violence is dripping across Xo’s face, and I know the only reason he hasn’t killed Lincoln yet is because he’s still interested in what this demon has to say. I think we all are.

  It must be a talent Lincoln has, or maybe just all demons have—making everyone in the room quiet to listen to what comes out of his mouth.

  “You’ve been in this house how many days now? Yet you’ve made no moves, you have no plans. You don’t expect to fight the demons on just will alone? Without the Sicarri to back you up, you don’t have the intel you once did. You have nothing. You need me.” His eyes flicker toward Karina and I take a step toward her, shielding her with my body. I feel her poke my back and I know she doesn’t like me protecting her.

  “Why would you side with us against your own kind? A few days ago you wanted us to join with Abe, now you’re talking about betraying him?” I ask, tilting my chin up at him. I can’t figure him out.

  “Ah, but that’s where you’re wrong, Elijah. You two are my kind, and Soren is my prince.” What Lincoln says stuns me into silence, stuns us all into silence. I haven’t thought of it that way, that Soren could gain a following due to his status with the demons.

  “You do realize we want to kill demons, not rule over them? The Sicarri, and the rest of the unburnt for that matter, have no plans to start practicing magic heavily. Not after everything that’s happened,” I say once I’m able to speak again.

  “Just consider my help and I’ll hope I can show you we aren’t all bad. That magic doesn’t have to consume you. ” Lincoln uncrosses his arms and stands expectantly at the door, like we’ll all just move aside for him to enter.

  Then, Soren surprises me by speaking.

  “Dad,” he says to me. “Let him in.”

  I spin around to look at his face. All I can see staring back at me from behind his beautiful brown eyes, is hope. I furrow my brows, uncertainty covering my face. I don’t understand his decision, but there isn’t a person in the world I would trust more than my own son. He is grown, and has been making choices for himself and the Sicarri for years.

  I step to the side, allowing Lincoln to enter… for now.

  “We need to talk,” I announce to everyone. “Gather yourselves and we’ll meet in the dining room.”

  “You won’t be able to resist the flame forever, Elijah. Let me teach you all how to wield it, before it burns out of control.”

  I’m surprised to hear Lincoln’s voice break through the quietness in the kitchen. I’m confused by his words at first. He’s been agreeable in the short time since he arrived at the house and asked to join our force. But then I remember he’s still a demon, and whether or not he’s on our team, I still shouldn’t place all my trust in him.

  I set down the glass of water I’ve been chugging and spin around to face Lincoln. I’m angry that he assumes he knows anything about what it’s like to be human, to be unburnt, to have the burden of magic and be unable to use it. I’m also angry that I let my guard down around him, that I let his words affect me.

  “How would you know anything about keeping our magic under lock? You weren’t strong enough. You let it consume you, and look where you are. You’re inside the body of my best friend, you’ve murdered so many for your own personal gain,” I spit at him.

  “Don’t be so bold as to think you know anything about me, Elijah. I’m not what you think I am. Question me, I don’t mind. But I’ve always believed in your son… even when you weren’t here.” He slides his arms out from behind him, clasping them together and resting his elbows on the counter in front of him. The position is oddly peaceful, considering the words falling from our lips, and I tilt my head with a frown on my face. He knows exactly what to say to make my blood boil, how? He looks so casual, so unperturbed by my anger that it only causes the heat to boil over in my body.

  “It’s going to take a lot more to get to Abe than you think,” he says, smiling at my reaction. Why is it that I always feel a step behind him? Like he knows a secret that I haven’t been let in on. I consider the idea that I shouldn’t make him angry, I need to know what he knows. Which is another reason why I didn’t make a fuss when Soren told me to let him in. Demon or not, he has valuable information for our team. And I know for a fact that it’s going to be a bitch prying that information from him. He only gives it bit by bit, when I’m looking for the whole load.

  “What do you mean?” I ask, crossing my arms. I try to stave off the animosity I feel toward him for a second because I’m truly curious of his answer. My hands itch to wrap around his neck and squeeze until the light leaves his eyes, but I don’t scratch it. It wouldn’t be wise to scratch it now.

  “You know what I mean. You think you’re just going to waltz into the place where Abe has been staying and what? Kill him, escape with your lives? All the evil disappears from the wo
rld when you kill this one demon? Do you have any idea how many more demons are ready to take his place if Abe falls?” Lincoln has cracked at the already fragile thoughts that have been swimming in my head the past few days. And by the look on his face, he knows it.

  “We’ll kill them too, if we have to,” I say, surprised by how calm my tone stays. I feel anything but calm. Lincoln has struck a chord with me, like he always does. The truth is, I don’t know what will happen after we kill Abe. I can’t say for sure that all of our problems will disappear. In all honesty, I know we have a long road ahead of us to make the world safe again. I also know that I will stop at nothing to do that.

  “And then that makes you no more than a murderer… just like me,” he says. His argument is better than mine, and I find myself getting even more frustrated. He’s dragging me down and I’m completely aware of it, and even in my acknowledgement I’m unable to pull myself out of it.

  I look toward the window over the kitchen sink and peer into the backyard. Soren used to play out there when he was younger. I would watch him run across the grass, dirtying himself and covering his clothes with grass stains. When he would finally come inside, I would hug him so tight that he would grunt. He would smell like outside and I would fill my lungs with the scent. My mind drifts further down the lane until I reach the present. Soren. One day he’ll want to have his own children, and I’ll be damned if they have to grow up in a world like this.

  “Is it murder if I’m killing things that should already be dead?” I ask him, but I don’t wait for a reply. I’ve let him into my head enough for one day, and I’m already regretting letting this conversation go on for as long as it has. I stride from the room without looking back and head upstairs to wash before our meeting in the dining room.

  Just as I go to enter the packed dining room, Soren reaches out and grabs my arm, pulling me into the kitchen.