Magic Burn: an Urban Fantasy Novel (Shifting Magic Book 2)

by Catherine Vale

  My head bobbed up and down. “Okay.”

  “Then Hayden is a bit of a clown,” Darius continued, and I noticed an immediate lightness in his tone, one that translated to a ghost of a smile on his face. “As the youngest, he doesn’t have to worry about much. Just find a mate and give my mom some baby dragons. He’ll charm the pants off you, if you let him.”

  “I’ll be sure to wear a belt then.” I laughed when he shot me a look, eyebrows raised. “Actually, I’ll have to keep Catriona away from him. She’s putty in the hands of anyone who can schmooze.”

  “He’s a good kid.” Darius rolled his shoulders back, like a weight had suddenly been lifted. “Kind. Funny. He’s never had any responsibilities, and it shows.”

  “And that makes you the brooding older brother?” I asked, my smile faltering when I realized what, technically, that meant for him. “And your dad is alpha, right? So…”

  “Yeah.”

  “That makes you next in line?” When we first met Colton and Liam, they had made passing comments about Darius’s role in his clan, about him being the next alpha, but with all the craziness that had been happening at the time, I shoved that revelation down and forgot about it until things settled. Well, nothing had truly settled, but after learning more about the Sanctius clan, I now had an inkling that Darius was more vital to his community than he let on.

  “Technically,” he muttered, scratching at his facial scruff with a sigh. “I’m the eldest, but you don’t have to be the oldest in line to be made alpha. They’ve all known from the day I was born that I would be, though. All those eyes on me. Watching me. Monitoring me. Making sure I’m ready. So, yeah, I guess I’m next in line when my dad passes.”

  “Not to sound crass, but…” I faced him, noting the furrow in his brow and the stormy darkness in his eyes. “How old is your dad?”

  “Old.” Darius shook his head. “Old enough that I should have been there.”

  “Well, there were extenuating circumstances,” I offered, knowing he felt guilty enough for both losing his wings and hiding away because of it. “And you’ll be there tomorrow. You have the chance to make things right.”

  He stilled when I placed my hand on his shoulder, then, much to my surprise, leaned into my touch—to the point where suddenly he was resting against my shoulder. With no one around, I used the moment to stroke his hair, his back, his cheek. Slowly, his eyes drifted shut, and I vowed to do whatever I could, to make tomorrow as smooth and seamless for him, as possible.

  Darius had been my rock when my life took a turn for the dangerous. He had fought for me before I even realized I needed help. Tomorrow, as I led the militia to the Sanctius dragon clan, it was time for me to return the favor.

  Chapter Six

  “Are you sure you want to do this?” Darius asked, his words gruff and quiet—yet somehow, they seemed to carry on the wind swirling around the vast stone hall embedded in the mountainside.

  “It’s not like I have much of a choice,” I told him. “They asked for you and the leader. I’m the leader here.”

  A reluctant one thrust into the role, sure, but if dragons were all about tradition and brotherhood and some ancient, archaic code, then speaking to the sister of the fae leading this rebellion, was probably the best course of action.

  “I can go alone,” Darius offered.

  “Do you want to?”

  “Not really.”

  We stood alone on the top of an uneven stone stairwell carved into the side of the mountain. If Colton and Liam’s bear clan had made me think of camping and cottages and sweet, humble dwellings, the Sanctius dragon clan took me straight out of the United States, straight out of the human world, and carried me straight into a sweeping, epic fantasy.

  The community was built completely in line with the mountains, and two escorts had been waiting for us at the portal when we arrived early that morning. Unfortunately, most of us couldn’t fly, and neither dragon offered a ride on their backs, so we’d had to trek through the rough terrain, far from any human contact and up into a mountain range I’d never heard of before. Great stone houses, halls in the old Scandinavian tradition, sat nestled amidst the slate gray backdrop of the mountain range, scattered at varying heights, but all situated along a winding road dotted with evergreens and fir trees.

  As we arrived, Darius had explained to me, Quell, and Galen that the higher the house on the mountain, the more important the occupants. Naturally, his family’s ancestral home sat almost at the peak.

  Although shifters weren’t capable of casting magic, to me the whole place reeked of it, and I couldn’t help but wonder if someone had gotten here before us.

  Darius had been greeted like royalty. Shifters lined the steep streets, racing out of their homes to welcome him home. Some even bowed, which was a new experience for me. My dragon took it all in stride, but his nervousness, which presented itself in the form of annoyance and a short temper, played out when a shifter dressed better than the rest, with gold trimmings, informed us that the militia could go no further until the alpha approved their presence in the village.

  So here we were, at the top of a mountain, before the largest hall in the Sanctius clan, both of us hesitant about reaching for the huge brass knob.

  “I… I could just go in by myself,” I told him, forcing the offer. “You know, test the waters.”

  “I’d never let you do that.”

  “Then how are you feeling? We can take all the time you need.”

  “Kaye, stop analyzing me.”

  “I’m not—”

  “It’s pretty obvious—”

  “Darius, I’m really not. I’m just being empathetic to your feelings—”

  Both of us fell silent as the wooden door opened a crack.

  “Maybe,” a man’s voice said, “you could stop coddling his damn feelings and just tell him to grow a pair.”

  Much to my surprise, the creases and lines etched across Darius’s face disappeared, and he yanked the door open, revealing a slightly shorter, slightly leaner, younger, version of himself, right down to the stormy gray eyes.

  “Hayden, you little shit.”

  “Hiya, big brother,” the shifter said, laughing as Darius grabbed him by the shirt and dragged him into a hug. “Can’t say I’ve missed that ugly mug of yours.”

  “Shut up,” Darius muttered as they held one another tightly—just as Zayne and I had a month earlier. I stepped back, trying not to detract from the moment, but I couldn’t help noting the way Hayden’s face changed in the arms of his older brother. It had been grinning at first, impish and youthful, but the longer they hugged, the more the playfulness faded. Pain, fear, worry—they all flashed across his features one right after the other, until Hayden finally turned his head and buried it against Darius’s neck. I swallowed hard, the unsaid emotion of the reunion catching my breath Looking out toward the village at the base of the stairwell, I blinked away a sudden rush of tears.

  “Why don’t you come in, ya lug,” Hayden insisted, voice taking on a bit of an accent, a blend of several, as Darius patted his cheek. The shifter then turned his attention to me, and I shook his hand when he offered it.

  “Kaye Allister,” I told him. “I’m leading the militia in my brother’s absence. I’ve come to—”

  “Meet the folks?” Hayden asked, the impish quality back as he looked between me and Darius. When his older brother swatted at him, he chuckled and jumped back, all nimble and graceful where Darius was all muscle and hardness. “Oh, come on. It was like listening to an old married couple bicker out here. You’ll have to do better than that, if you don’t want Mom and Dad to guess what’s going on.”

  “I, er…” I deferred to Darius, lost, but my dragon just exhaled deeply and rolled his eyes.

  “Hayden—”

  “Look, get in there,” the younger dragon urged with a nod toward the door. “Everyone’s waiting. No one’s upset. Well. Dad’s a bit pissed. Okay, more than a bit.” He then wiggled his eyebr
ows at me, grinning. “But Mom’s the scary one, anyway, so you’re basically in the clear.”

  I was ready to go in. Well, not ready, but feeling as prepared as I’d ever be. Just because Hayden figured it out, didn’t mean his parents would, and technically I was just here to plead our case and help some shifters. Darius was the one who had something to be worried about. So, I waited, my gaze on him, yearning to clasp his hand but holding back. He had to make the decision without my gentle prodding.

  Finally, he shook his head and strode forth, leaving both Hayden and I behind as he breached the hall, throwing open the door on the way. He walked confidently, sure of himself, but I knew inside he was feeling less than. Hayden and I exchanged quick looks, him grinning and me frowning, before he bowed low and gestured for me to enter.

  I kind of liked the kid.

  Shoulders back, I hurried after Darius, only to slow at the sight before me: Darius in the arms of a weeping woman—his mother, I assumed. While her hair was stark white, the rest of the dragon shifters present shared Darius’s chestnut brown hair, although the man seated on a throne at the end of the stone hall wore a more weathered crown than the rest.

  With Hayden by my side, I stopped a short distance away, giving Darius the time to reunite with his loved ones without me interfering. His mother coddled him as any mother might—or so I assumed, given I’d never had one—and fussed over his clothes, his facial scruff, and the length of his wild hair.

  The older man, one who radiated power with nothing more than his gaze, remained seated, and I quickly deduced he was definitely Darius’s father—and the clan’s alpha. If I had to persuade anyone about the impending war with Abramelin, it was this man. While hunched, and wrinkled, each hand covered in rings and his cloak lined with fur like some old Viking Jarl, there was a sharpness in his regard, in the way he evaluated what unfolded before him.

  And in the way, he assessed me.

  I felt his stare long before I met it. Instead, I focused my attention on the family reunion. Darius and his mother were soon joined by another shifter—Quinn, if my family names were correct. Middle brother, he was less muscular than Hayden and Darius, and he wore his shoulder-length hair back in a ponytail. Of the three, he dressed most like his father, and carried himself like a medieval lord surveying his subjects. The façade faded slightly when he and Darius embraced, just as Hayden’s goofy persona had momentarily dropped too.

  All that fear. All that anxiety. I wouldn’t say it was for nothing, but Darius was welcomed home like a conquering hero by everyone—save for his father. The man sat silently on the throne still, though I noticed his index finger had started to tap.

  “Mom, I’d like you to meet someone…”

  A rush of nerves prickled through me as the spotlight shifted from my dragon to me. Darius led the tall woman with stark, white hair over to me, her build athletic and wiry, and then, much to my surprise, he took my hand.

  “This is Kaye. Her brother is leading the resistance against the Archmage Abramelin, and she—”

  “Is your mate,” the woman finished for him, her head tipped to one side as she appraised me. When I shot a somewhat panicky look to Darius, the woman chuckled. “My son’s scent is all over you. And you… I feel a kinship with you.”

  “I’m half dragon,” I blurted—as if wanting to please the mom of the guy I was dating.

  Which, I guess, was basically the situation.

  “Half fae,” Darius finished for me. “And a fierce fighter.”

  I shrugged, cheeks hot. “Well, I mean…”

  My words faded when his mom reached for me, taking a clump of my loose hair in hand and rubbing it between her fingers.

  “Welcome to the Sanctius clan,” she said. “My name is Cynthia. My husband, Khalon, has requested a private audience with you both.”

  “Mom, you don’t have to leave,” Darius muttered after casting a wary glance to the seated man. I smiled as she smiled, unable to help myself—I’d never seen an expression look so full of love before.

  “Clan business first,” she told him. “Then we shall celebrate as a whole family again.”

  Cynthia beckoned for Quinn and Hayden to follow, and the middle brother’s eyes shot up and down my body as he stalked silently after her. The hairs on the back of my neck rose in response. Moments later, the large wooden doors at the end of the hall closed, blocking off the sunshine outside and leaving nothing but the flickering of a dozen or so torches to guide us forward.

  “I feel like I’m in Lord of the Rings,” I said under my breath, and Darius chuckled softly.

  “Yeah, that’s the general vibe of the place. Most of the shifters here are more modern than their ruling family.” He spoke quietly and quickly as we approached Khalon, and while I could hear an attempt at nonchalance in his voice, I couldn’t ignore the way he tensed more with each step. By the time we stopped at the foot of the three steps leading up to the alpha’s throne, my dragon was a total ball of stress.

  “Father.” Darius dipped his head. “It is good to see you again. You look…”

  “Decrepit,” the alpha offered, lips curling into a snarl as he said it. “I am aware. I was wondering when you would show your face again to relieve me of this lifelong post.”

  “Circumstances kept me away,” Darius admitted. “Circumstances I feel are better discussed in private.”

  Khalon’s haunting gray eyes, colder and sterner than Darius’s, flickered from his son to me, then back again. “Indeed.”

  “Father, may I introduce to you—”

  “Kaye.” The way he spat out my name made all the hairs on my arms stand up, like my name itself was supposed to insult me. “Sister of Zayne Allister, leader of the resistance forces against Abramelin’s terror. I have heard of you.”

  “It’s an honor to meet you,” I said, stepping forward to situate myself between Darius and his father. No time for family tensions now, not when there were more pressing matters to discuss. “If you’ve heard of me, then I assume you know why I’m here.”

  “You and your brother are mobilizing shifter clans,” Khalon mused, head cocked to one side, though his noticeable grimace suggested that the movement pained him. Every movement probably pained him. The man looked ancient. “He was once good, you know. Abramelin and I installed the defensive perimeter of the village in an age gone by. It was the only magic the clan would agree to. Now, I suspect it will lead to our doom.”

  “We can replace whatever wards he has constructed,” I told him. “There are many capable fairies, witches, and mages in my group of resistance fighters who can create nearly impenetrable barriers. But we had hoped you would be willing to contribute warriors to the cause, too.”

  “And if I don’t,” he cleared his throat, the sound wet and gurgling, “does that mean you rescind your offer of protection?”

  “Not in the slightest.” I wanted to cross my arms, a meaningless method of blocking his unflinching stare. Something about it unnerved me. Maybe because the whites of his eyes had, at some point in the past, turned a sickly yellow. “We are here to protect, whether you join the cause or not. Abramelin has no right to spearhead a senseless genocide against shifters. This world, the one outside of human knowledge, is large enough that we can all live together in peace.”

  “Peace.” Khalon scoffed, shifting about on the throne with more pained grimaces. “There will never be peace, not even among our own kind. Only a fool’s peace. A false peace.”

  “Father, we haven’t the luxury of time to debate your pessimistic philosophy of life,” Darius said sharply. “Lives are at stake here.”

  “Lives that you will soon be responsible for,” Khalon countered, fixing his narrowed look on Darius—suddenly I could breathe again, like a massive weight had been lifted off my chest.

  “Father, now isn’t the time to—”

  “Lives,” Khalon continued, followed by a long pause, as he coughed and sputtered. When the hacking died down, I swore I saw a hint of bloo
d on the corners of his mouth, but he licked it away before I could confirm anything. “Lives that I am no longer strong enough to protect.”

  The whole vibe of the conversation shifted like the changing winds at sea, and I watched the air slowly leech out of the alpha’s sail. It couldn’t be easy to admit that he wasn’t capable of looking after his own people anymore, people he had been responsible for over the last few decades. I spared a quick glance at Darius; while the tension hadn’t eased out of his limbs yet, he appeared softer in his face, perhaps more receptive to what his father had to say.

  “Abramelin is a dangerous enemy to have,” Khalon said, his voice quieter now. “Not only is he an exceptionally powerful magic wielder, but he has much physical strength too, and a keen intellect that cannot be underestimated. He may employ the rabble of the supernatural community to do his bidding, but they are no more than pawns.”

  “Cannon fodder,” I offered, and a sense of accomplishment prickled through me when Khalon nodded.

  “Yes, cannon fodder indeed. Abramelin will sacrifice any great number of his own men to ensure his goals are met.” The old alpha’s head drooped, as though the conversation exhausted him. His sickly, yellow gaze shifted to Darius. “You must lead our people into battle. You must assume some of your responsibilities before I pass from this world, as I cannot guide them in times of war. My dragon is old. He is tired. He prefers sleep to flight these days. I cannot bring him into the fray.”

  For a few beats, all we could hear was the gentle flicker of the torches. I held my breath, waiting on pins and needles for Darius’s response, and when he finally gave one, it melted my heart. Slowly, almost carefully, he climbed the few steps separating him from his father, then knelt at the man’s feet and took one weathered hand in both of his.

  “What do you need from me?” he asked, the combative edginess sapped from his tone. His father sighed and placed his other hand on top of their clasped ones, and I schooled my features, so I wouldn’t look too overwhelmed by the sweetness of the moment.