by Jami Gray
She stepped into the bedroom.
Gavin and Raine followed, stopping in the doorway. Together they watched Xander make her away around the large space, tension building as the wolf quartered the room.
Gavin kept his gaze moving, wary of an unseen attack. Gruesome shadows painted the walls as the twisted piece of metal sitting on the nightstand and masquerading as a lamp lit Vivian’s hanging body against the large glass windows over looking Portland. He leaned his shoulder against the doorframe.
Xander dropped to her hands and knees, disappearing on the far side of the bed.
“Xander?” Raine called.
“Give me a second,” came the muffled response. Her spiky-haired visage popped up over the bed’s edge. “Gavin, can I touch the damn thing?”
“Better not.” He pushed off the frame and joined her. Kneeling down, he let her hold up the bed’s cover, giving him a clear sight line under the bed.
Within arm’s length lay a curved vessel. With the heavy shadows, it was hard to see, but Gavin sent his magic out to test the container. The zing of a responding spell confirmed they’d found their rogue bottle.
He raised his head and told Raine, “I need something to snag it with.” A black hilted knife appeared near his head. He took the blade Raine offered and used it to roll the container until it rested between him and Xander. Once it was out of the shadows, he could tell the bottle was old. Its round body was hand carved from a heavy wood and stained a deep reddish brown, and the narrow neck led to a fluted opening blocked by a small round stopper.
“Now what?” Raine asked from the other side of the bed.
“Now, I have to draw the sucker out.” He centered his concentration on the bottle, using his magic to test and prod the containment spell.
“And put it where?” Xander asked warily.
“In one of our dinner guests,” he gritted out, trying to answer her question and deal with unraveling the spell hiding the Shaitant. “If we can trap it in a physical body, I should be able to banish it.”
“Banish it?” Raine repeated.
“They’re a minor form of Amanusa.” He slipped through one spell and began working on the next.
“Demons don’t like being kicked out of this realm,” Xander muttered. “They tend to go kicking and screaming.”
“I vote for Vivian,” Raine suggested. “She’s still tied up. Makes it easier to keep her under control.”
He didn’t bother telling her a leather belt wouldn’t prove much of deterrent for a jinn. “Fine, just get ready. It’s not going to be happy with any of us.” He narrowed his concentration, careful to work around the malevolence stirring under the wood. On the rug in front of him, the bottle began to shake. He tightened his magical hold, his carefully crafted spell slipping between the stopper and the bottle, baiting the jinn.
For a heart stopping moment he thought it wouldn’t work, then the evil entity latched on to his lure. “Now!”
He yanked the Shaitant out of its protective shell and into the room. To him, it resembled a vaporous, mutant scorpion. Hard, red shells layered the body, the venomous tail curled over its back, the stinger dripping a milky substance.
Gavin’s magic surrounded it like a blue edged glass ball. He tossed it to Vivian’s corpse, releasing the spell’s hold as soon as it touched her cold skin.
Vivian’s legs began to kick, her hands scrambled at the leather belt cutting into her throat. Hissing and clacking noises emerged from her mouth. Her teeth snapped together, her milky white eyes wheeling between the three hunters surrounding her. Her body twisted as she writhed above them, like some zombie marionette.
The exposed beam holding her swaying body gave an ominous warning. A crack spread like lightening through the wood. The thing that was Vivian fought harder, and her gaze snapped to Raine.
“Watch out!” Gavin dove across the bed, skimming past one flaying nylon clad foot, and slammed his larger body into Raine’s, sending them both skidding across the floor, stopping only when her back met the wall.
Startled mercury colored eyes blinked at him from inches away. For a moment he enjoyed the feeling of her body pressed under his, but it didn’t last long.
She grabbed his shoulder and using her weight, flipped them until his back hit the floor just as Vivian’s clawed hand swiped out, missing them both by a mere breath. He caught a flash of silver as Raine continued her roll, going over him to land in a crouch, and cautiously faced the jinn.
On the other side of the bed that now sported a section of the broken beam, a low growl vibrated. Gavin rushed to his feet, panic curling through him. Xander leapt at the now upright Vivian. “Xander! Don’t let it bite you!”
The petite blonde, now sporting a graceful mix of wolf and human form, twisted in mid-air and raked lethal claws across Vivian’s back. Her attack spun the Shaitant around in a spray of blood, forcing it to focus on the new threat. Xander landed on the floor on the other side of the bed, trapping the jinn between her, the wall, Raine, and Gavin.
It lunged for Xander, only to let loose an ear-shredding shriek when Raine drove a blade deep into the side of its neck. It whipped its head around so fast Vivian’s vertebrae snapped, the sound cutting through the room. It rushed Raine, who barely manage to pivot out of its grasp.
Fast and dirty, Gavin wove a holding spell, keeping Vivian trapped inside the small uneven circle the hunters created.
Unable to detect the invisible barrier, Vivian smashed into it. Instead of going down, she hissed, retreated, and began to turn in a slow circle, watching them.
“Now what?” Raine asked.
“We can’t kill it,” he said.
“What do you mean, we can’t kill it?” Xander growled.
“It’s a demon,” he snarled. “You don’t kill demons without some serious sacrifices, and we’re fresh out.”
A muttered oath came from Raine. “We can’t sit here and play ring around the jinn all damn night.”
He watched Vivian, thinking fast. “I have an idea. You two keep it occupied. Whatever you do, don’t let it bite you unless you want to play host.”
Vivian turned her head a hundred and eighty degrees, fixing her dead gaze on Gavin. For a moment nothing happened, then it recoiled and spat a milky substance that hit the invisible edge of Gavin’s spell and dripped down.
The jinn’s poison seeped into his magic, making it harder to hold, and searing fire spread over Gavin’s nerve endings. The unexpected attack left sweat popping out on his forehead. He clamped his jaw tight, trapping his scream as the two magics battled. It took everything he had to concentrate on creating the banishing spell. Working through the agony, his energy holding the spirit caged started to wane.
Across from him, Raine narrowed her eyes, her gaze moving from him to the white substance slowly burning its way through his spell. “Xander, go low,” she hissed.
Together, Raine and Xander tackled the jinn, tearing through Gavin’s weakening spell.
He pushed through the flash burn of pain and began wrapping the banishment spell around the Shaitant. His body shook with effort. Working around the magical signatures marking Xander and Raine took precision. Focusing on the meticulous details of his spell drowned his frustrated need to help the two women.
Peripherally, he knew the two women were harrying the jinn. Working in tandem they kept Vivian off balance, alternating kicks and hits in an unpredictable pattern. With the final layer of the spell in place, his attention was jerked away by Xander’s panicked, “Raine!”
He caught sight of Raine on her back, frantically rolling out of the path of the demonic spit.
Wood groaned, then splintered as Xander ripped the granite top of the dresser free. Using it as a baseball bat, she swung at Vivian, slamming it just under Vivian’s arm and through her ribs, knocking her off her feet.
Gavin use the distraction to tighten the bindings of his spell. “Stay back,” he snapped.
Xander dropped the heavy granite and made her w
ay to Raine.
Trapped inside his spell, the jinn writhed and jerked, trying to get free. Gavin gritted his teeth, and pulled harder on his magic. It was like strangling a snake with dental floss. Using the determination and focus honed over the years, he drew the magical ties tighter and tighter. The moment he severed the jinn’s connection with Vivian’s body, he almost lost his grip. He dug deep, knowing if he slipped, just once, Raine and Xander would be the ones to pay.
Loop after loop, he wrapped the Shaitant in a magical cocoon, ignoring the burn as its magic battled his. The moment it realized what Gavin was doing, a long, hair raising wail rose, like the scream of sand across the desert. With one final, brutal burst of magic, Gavin ripped the jinn’s remaining connections to the mortal realm to non-existent shreds, sending it back where it belonged.
Opening eyes he hadn’t known he’d closed, he blinked, taking in the remains of the bedroom. At his feet, Vivian’s battered body was a crumpled heap. The dresser stood topless, the granite slab lying among plaster and chunks of wall on the floor.
Raine handed Xander her jacket. The werewolf, now fully back to human, pulled it on over her torn sweater.
Raine got up and wobbled her way to him. She was limping and when she went to sit next to him, she winced. Gingerly, she straightened her legs out in front of her. Blood smeared her lower jeans.
“How bad?” His voice was rough.
“Just a scratch.”
As they sat there, his adrenaline faded, allowing the aches and pains to take center stage. “We’re going to have to call in a cleanup crew.”
“I’ll take care of it.” Xander got to her feet and looked at them. “You two okay?”
“Just peachy.” He wasn’t sure if he could stand yet, though. The spell drained a hell of a lot more energy than anticipated.
She flashed him a cocky grin. “Good, because I have a date to finish! Ciao!” She sauntered out of the room.
They listened to Xander leave the condo.
“Hey, Gavin,” Raine broke the quiet.
“Hey, Raine.”
“Mulcahy called you in first, right?”
He rolled his head against the wall to eye her warily, wondering where she was going with this. “Yeah.”
Her smile was edged with wicked humor. “Then you get to file the report.”
He groaned. Paperwork sucked.
“Consider it an early Christmas gift.” She laughed as she struggled to her feet. Standing above him, she offered her hand.
He took it, letting her pull him up.
Thank you for reading Shadow’s Curse.
Not ready to say good-bye to the shadowy world of the Kyn? Keep reading for a preview of book five, Shadow’s Dream. Or if you’re on a roll, pick up your copy here!
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Shadow’s Dream
Kyn Kronicles Book 5
After painful truths and insidious treachery left them forever shattered, will Cheveyo and Tala reclaim their dreams before the impending nightmare tears them apart forever?
Many nightmares haunted the most powerful witch in the Northwest, but none as disturbing as Cheveyo’s recent visitations. As the head of the Kyn’s Northwest Magi house, he was quite familiar with the varied forms monsters could take. From the kindly faced next-door neighbor whose horrific secrets were buried in the basement, to the terrifyingly grotesque beings who hid deep in the Kyn shadows, never to step into the light. Dressed only in his sleep pants, he stood on his deck overlooking the Oregon coast, concentrating on the bite of wood against his palms. A particularly strong gust cooled his sweat-soaked skin and triggered a hard shudder. For the briefest moment he considered going back in and getting a T-shirt, but he was locked in place by his lingering night terrors.
A flash of a female’s face, the beloved features lined with pain and fear drove the dread perched in his aching chest to climb into a choking lump that settled in his throat. He shook his head, once, hard, and the features changed into softer, younger curves, this time etched with the more familiar signs of half-hidden disillusionment and hints of betrayal. His fault.
He slammed a fist against the railing, using the sharp spike of pain to help push the images aside. He focused on the roiling waves below, crashing into the rocky shore, willing his mind blank. The wind tangled his hair over his face, but he ignored it as he tried to regain his emotional footing.
Deep in his head, where a solid barred door stood guard on the psychic plane, someone knocked. Growling under his breath, he ignored it. He was in no shape to handle such an interaction right now. Not on top of everything else. A harsh, bitter bark of noise escaped, only to disappear into the night. If his people could only see him now—his mantel of authority nothing but a thin cloak hiding the Frankenstein patchwork of magical ability and sheer stubbornness—they’d panic. Hell, he couldn’t blame them, not when he was busy doing a little panicking of his own.
Not only did he have his own dreams to contend with, but a bigger threat loomed on the horizon. A threat that three of his people, each one blessed, or cursed, depending on your point of view, confirmed. Since each held the ability to catch glimpses of the future and each had made the almost two hour trek from Portland to Canon Beach to share the details of it with him, it was enough to make anyone a mite leery.
Time was running out for the supernatural world of the Kyn. The meager curtain of secrecy keeping their presence from the humans was being devoured by the moths of technology and change. His visitors each bore the same message, either the Kyn came together and revealed themselves to the mortal world, or they would, once again, become the hunted. Only this time, thanks to the combination of rising discontent within the Kyn and humanity’s sheer numbers, they would be eradicated.
Yet it wasn’t those grim tidings that dragged him from his bed. Instead, it was the endless questions of “what if”. Decisions made all those years ago were coming back to bite him in the ass, leaving him questioning his choices. Unfortunately, his doubt wasn’t limited to just tonight, but every damn night for close to a year since he returned from Arizona. Since he left the woman who held his heart behind for the second time. Tala Whiteriver.
It made sleeping a fruitless, frustrating pursuit.
Another knock on the psychic door, this one a bit more impatient, left him raking his mist-laced hair back from his face as he turned his attention inward. Manipulating the magic he lived and breathed, he thinned the barrier enough to allow communication, but not enough to allow his visitor a peek inside the mess crawling behind the door. “What, Raine?”
There was a minuscule pause before she responded. “What the hell is your problem, Cheveyo?”
Even without her being physically there, he could practically see her—hands on her hips, a dark frown on her face. “Other than you pounding at the damn door, not a damn thing.”
Her disbelief was palpable. “Yeah, try again, because I’m not buying it.”
The nice thing about communicating on the magical plane was that his ability to project whatever he wanted was nearly infallible. Even to this warrior woman, who thought she knew who she was dealing with. Unfortunately, the time was coming closer to shatter her assumption. Just not yet. He wasn’t ready to deal with the fallout, nor was there a real need for the reality check.
Mentally taking a defensive pose—feet braced, arms crossed—he reigned in his impatience. “Then buy this: it’s personal.”
“Fine,” her mental voice all but growled. “But if you’re in trouble, you better—”
“I’d better what?” Her response sparked his precarious temper and, for the fir
st time in a long while, he decided to remind this admittedly lethal adult-child of her place. His magic rose in a thunderous wave held in check only by his control. “Remember who you’re addressing, Raine McCord.” He allowed the edge of his power to whip between them, anticipating her explosive reaction, which wasn’t long in coming.
She struck back, not to harm but because, in the Kyn world, it wasn’t about hurting, but dominance, and right now she was having trouble reconciling her perceptions with truth. A truth he managed to keep from her and her lover, Gavin Durand, for months now. He let her magic dance with his, making her work for it, but knowing in the end he would win.
When the pressure of her magic finally retreated, he drawled, “Are you done?”
“For now.”
At her reluctant, yet cautious submission, he buried his smile deep. If she caught the barest whiff of his amusement, she’d go ballistic, and tonight he didn’t have the time or patience to deal with her temper tantrum. Spectacular though it would be.
“What’s happening?” This time her question carried more respect and wariness.
He sighed and gave her the only answer he could, “Change.”
He could feel her turning his response over and over, trying to fit it with the pieces she held. She was doomed for disappointment, because she was currently missing a few key segments. “When?”
“If I’m not mistaken—” And he wasn’t. “—soon.”
“I really wish you and the rest of the leaders would stop with your cryptic shit.”
Her waspish complaint garnered an honest laugh. “Wish we could, but it’s part of our job descriptions.”
“Why am I not surprised?”
There was a wryness to her mental tone, one indicating they had skated beyond the flashpoint. It allowed some of his tension to slip away. “Because you’re nothing if not intelligent.”
