by Jayne Hawke
A bolt of lightning pierced the darkness and came right at us. I grasped onto my magic and tried to break the lightning before it could hurt one of us. I was too slow, too weak. It scattered but it still struck Ethan, leaving a black mark on his cheek.
“Women love scars,” he said to me with a smirk before we continued our advance.
“It’s about time we started taking fae magic. You selfish bastards guard your magic like dragons and their gold. Our gods share our knowledge and magic with the world. We are improving the state of things and you sit in your castles slowly trying to bring about ruin,” a tall man with shoulder length blond hair said.
“Zeus god touched are always arrogant pricks,” Ethan said drily.
“Those fallen fell for a reason. We are returning that magic to where it belongs, and now we will give the fae magic back to its rightful owners,” the Zeus hound said with glee.
“It is with its rightful owners,” Ethan said with a snarl.
His snarl extended into a lengthy howl as he dropped into his canine form, followed quickly by Cade who matched the bone-chilling sound. The entire group was visibly terrified. However powerful they thought they were, the sound of a black dog pack’s howl was a hard-coded fear trigger in any living being. It was the sound of death, unpredictable but inevitable. It was the sound of my pack.
I gave Kerry a glance, my blood rising, and saw my exhilaration matched on her face.
In flawless, beautiful synchronization, we leapt at our enemies. Two Zeus god touched, lightning bolts useless at their sides as they watched us come with wide eyes, went down under the weight of the shaggy black wolfhounds the boys had become. Two wet crunches told me they were dead.
At the same moment, an oversized alley-cat snarl rang out from the far side of them and a witch fell backwards with a half-feline Kerry attached to her face. I leapt into a flying knee to the solar plexus of an oversized grunt, slamming the unfamiliar sword down into the back of his neck as he flopped forwards, leaving a horrifying ragged gash down the line of his spine. I was almost disgusted until my bloodthirst kicked in, and after that all I wanted to do was climb inside his carcass.
I settled for laying my spare forearm along the wound, leeching the magic from him and watching the battle unfold. As my witch magic refilled far beyond baseline, I began to see the nature of the lines between the god touched and their deities, the subtle interplay of magic passing in both directions. I wondered if I could take the downstream only, keep the inflow of magic from their gods and leave them to be devoured by the outflow. The things I could do with that, if I could just get one of them in a cage long enough to unspin that thread... I pressed down on my euphoria and kept my witch magic from running wild. I wasn’t going to become a magical mad scientist. At least, not unless I needed to. I focused on the present and used the war-god abilities my father’s power granted me to analyse the situation.
Ethan and Cade were still flowing easily, their magic pristine as they relied on their weight and their teeth. They didn’t need me. The enemies they were corralling would be dead in a couple minutes, no more injuries to either of them than a good massage would cure.
Kerry, conversely, was having to use her death magic heavily. It wasn’t obvious as she grinningly spun, red in tooth and claw, but without the magic holding them at bay any of the god touched around her could kill her in seconds. Looking at the threads of it, she had to use it a lot. They were worn and reinforced, built and rebuilt like the muscles of a pro athlete. Strong because it had to be. I doubted anyone but me knew just how much of a struggle she had in keeping up with the pack. Was that what Matt’s magic would look like if this pack, our pack, had their way?
When I thought of that, I felt a surge of protectiveness. I used it, seeing no reason to fight my instincts. I hefted my sword and knew it wasn’t going to do the job, not without a lot of ugliness. I could reach out and snap their tethers, but that was slow and exhausting. I thought about my daggers, now lost, but even they didn’t have the flair I wanted just then. The cool, silvery god magic wanted the perfect battle, and so I wanted it too. It was clear what this situation called for.
With the Zeus magic still strong in my veins, I picked up the piled thunderbolts left in the wake of the boys’ kills. I knew how to form the magnetic barriers in my hand to hold the electricity, knew how to throw them like an Olympic javelin thrower. I knew what it was to cast down gods and monsters with the tools of Hephaestus. Mostly, I knew how to give Kerry a moment of rest she richly deserved.
I fitted the dropped bolts back into their braces, picked up both braces, and began to throw lightning at the crowd slowly grinding its way through the voluminous cloud of black death magic I alone could see. I threw for centre mass, drawing on the combined magic of Zeus and my father to give me the skill needed to wield the unfamiliar weapon like a master. I knew it wouldn’t last, but it didn’t need to. A loud crash of thunder followed the first bolt, the foe closest me dropping with his strings cut. Another crash, and another dropped. A third, a fourth, a fifth, and a sixth all landed in sequence, the noise deafening.
A short, stocky Gaia follower was coming towards me, aiming to avenge his friends. My first bolt hit him directly in the forehead, stunning him, but he quickly pushed forward again. It looked like primordial earth mages were as sturdy as you might imagine. I threw another, and again he shrugged it off, continuing to trudge towards me. This was going to take more subtlety, it seemed. I reached into a bolt with my witch magic, spinning a tiny thread to place the bolt into the frequency at which the magical strings could be seen, and threw it directly at his tether to Gaia. It exploded in a shower of light, and he dropped to the ground. One more bolt to his now-mortal form, and he was dead.
At last, there was only one left, a bulky Odin witch. His connection to his god was strong, and no lightning god ever died of lightning. I dropped the bolts and rushed him, sword still in my hand, but he was dead before I took two paces. Kerry stared into his eyes as he died, a look of playful serenity on her face as she sent him to the other side.
I didn’t need to look up to know that Ethan and Cade were finished. It had been over a minute, and the thunder would no doubt have drawn the attention of their opponents, who could not have expected anyone but the dead Zeus god touched to be using the bolts. Anything left would have been evidence that I underestimated them, and the icy cool war magic that was slipping around my brain like quicksilver was quite certain that underestimating a fighter simply wasn’t something that happened to me.
FIFTY-THREE
I could feel them. The fallen gods. My father could be one of them. It took all I had to push my body up into a run as I headed towards the final room.
Nothing could have prepared me for what I saw. Four fallen and two witches were strapped to wooden tables with metal manacles. Glass tubes emerged from their arms, abdomen, and legs. I could feel the pure magic flowing down those tubes into the silver flasks that were neatly lined up on the centre table.
Blood coated the tables and stone floor around them. The stench of death and pain filled the air. They were all conscious, pain painted across their faces. The young witch’s eyes were starting to turn glassy. She wasn’t going to be able to fight for much longer.
Taking a slow deep breath, I dug deep and pulled out every last thread of witch magic that I could find within myself. I brought my hands up near my mouth and swept them outwards in a quick outwards motion. My magic shattered the bindings around the gods and the witches. Their eyes flew open as they took a deep breath and colour began to return to their skin.
Darkness edged in around my vision as my heart stuttered in my chest. I’d pushed too hard and drained everything I had. My legs began to wobble as a deep sadness filled me. I couldn’t leave Matt, he needed me. Ethan’s strong arms wrapped around my waist, and he helped me stumble towards the magic flasks on the centre table.
“Take one,” the fallen god with white hair said.
His voice was gruf
f as though he hadn’t used it in a while.
“You have earnt it,” he said.
The others made noises of agreement as they tugged at the tubes coming out of their naked and bruised skin.
Ethan put a flask to my lips. I felt the purity of the thick viscous magic within. Taking a sip, the sweet clean taste of honey and snow coated my tongue. My body began to revitalise, and I pushed the flask away. That was their magic, and I wasn’t going to steal it.
“I will not lose you,” Ethan growled.
“I will survive. I just need sleep and food,” I said.
The white-haired fallen sat up on his table, and I looked away as his small cloth fell away, revealing a little too much.
“Thank you, daughter of Killian,” he said.
“You know my father? Is he alive?” I asked.
Hope filled me. There was a chance I could see my father again.
“I did, and yes. I don’t know where he is, I don’t believe it is the hounds who have him, but he is alive. I owe you a debt. When you are ready, I will give you whatever you need,” he said as he stood.
The other fallen gods and witches scrambled off their tables and filed out of the room past the pack.
We’d done it. We’d saved the day.
FIFTY-FOUR
Cade kept feeding me brownies and magic-packed chocolate on the entire ride home. Kerry had rung Matt and told him that, while we were injured, we were ok and on our way home. Dean had ordered what sounded like twenty people’s worth of Chinese takeaway.
I couldn’t keep the happiness down or the grin off my face. It felt so incredible. I was surrounded by people I’d thought would be the end of me, and I was embracing my magic in a way that allowed me to save lives. A month ago, I would have thought that was the most ridiculous of dreams, but I was living it.
Ethan smiled at me and squeezed my thigh.
“We have some paperwork to fill in once we’ve eaten.”
I deflated. The job was over. This was all going to come to an end.
Ethan reached across and stroked his thumb along my jawline.
“Don’t look sad, little fox, I’m officially making you a member of my company and pack,” he said softly.
I looked at him, and panic bubbled up. It was one thing to join him in his business - the money was certainly very good. The pack was a whole other thing.
“I told you he didn’t want to let you go,” Cade said with a grin.
“Don’t look so panicky. Being part of the pack means we can keep you safe. No one can touch you as long as you’re one of us,” Kerry said.
She wasn’t wrong, but it was still a huge step.
“You don’t have to move in with us, although I really would rather you did. If you’re going to stay in your house, we’ll have to fix it up, though,” Ethan said.
I didn’t know what to say. It looked as though I’d found a new family in the last place I’d ever have thought to look.
ONE
My magic collided within me. The silky metallic war god magic crashed against the delicate crystalline threads of my witch magic. Groaning, I clutched my head as everything became too clear all at once. Every tiny piece of magic in the area suddenly came into agonising clarity, all while my emotions slipped away and I considered war.
“Kit. Focus. You can do this,” Ethan said.
I took a long slow breath and opened my eyes to glare at him. Winter was setting in, and he was wearing a thin wool sweater which brought out the gold in his eyes. It also highlighted his exquisite body, especially the strong chest I was growing to enjoy leaning my head on. I swallowed hard as I felt the blood running through his veins. It called to me, with sweet syrupy whispers and promises of greatness.
I’d found out a couple of weeks ago my mother had been a powerful dark witch. I wasn’t entirely sure how she differed from normal witches, but I did know that I’d inherited her blood magic. The more I worked with my witch magic, the more everyone’s blood called to me. The magic coursing through it was so easy to pluck out and manipulate. I could make it mine, and I’d be a goddess.
Exhaling, I pushed the whispers aside and pushed my mind into my god magic. The liquid metal surged into my fingertips. War drums pounded in my head. Standing straighter, I felt stronger, ready to take on any foe.
Ethan grinned at me. His own magic was just beneath the surface, a heady mix of death and war. He was the son of the Morrigan, a rare and exceptionally powerful fae. The rest of the world slipped away as I allowed my god magic to edge further into my mind. There was nothing but the smallest shift of Ethan’s balance and the spark in his stunning eyes.
He’d been kicking my ass all day. It turned out his reputation as the finest bounty hunter and assassin in all the fae lands had been well earned. I wasn’t giving up yet, though. Licking my lips, I focused my god magic and pressed it out into dangerous points. Slowly, agony slipped up through my arms and clouded my mind. I never looked away from Ethan’s eyes as I felt the cool weight of swords beginning to form in my hands.
Dad was a fallen war god. His magic gave me strength and speed, and I was learning that it came with the ability to form awesome new weapons out of the ether. The pain almost made me close my eyes. Gritting my teeth, I focused past the searing heat that felt as though someone was trying to flay me alive. The time of hiding had passed. I was part of Ethan’s pack now, and I needed to step up and start using my magic to help people.
The swords had barely finished forming. The beautiful raven-feather-black swords were perfectly balanced, made just for me. The silky black shimmered sapphire blue and emerald green in the pale winter sunlight. Ethan moved with terrifying speed. His fist almost collided with my throat before I shifted my weight and stepped slightly away. The vicious grin on his face sharpened as his eyes never left mine.
His other fist came at my ribs. I blocked, but the hard blow radiated pain through my entire arm. I was used to pain by now. I tried to move back to get room to use my shiny new swords, but Ethan kept in close so I was blocked and unable to do a damn thing. He was toying with me as he twisted around me and tried to drive his knee into my side, purely to demonstrate that he could.
My breathing was coming harder now. I’d been practising with my magic all afternoon, and it was draining me. A white light formed at the very edges of my vision. Nausea began to rise, and the feeling of intense strength and drive slowly slipped away, leaving me feeling weak and wobbly.
The viciousness immediately left Ethan’s face to be replaced with an expression of deep affection. He wrapped his muscular arms around me and gently pulled me to his chest. The scent of sandalwood and leather engulfed me, bringing me to breathe deep and relax into him.
My hands were starting to shake. I needed to eat, to recover the calories I’d burnt.
“You’ve done well, you’re making good progress. Let’s get you inside,” Ethan said gently.
He moved to my side and slipped his arm around my waist. I leaned into him as my legs threatened to stop holding my weight.
“You kicked ass!” Matt said with a huge grin as I stepped into the kitchen.
My adopted brother had settled into life with the pack very quickly. Happiness shone in his eyes where it had been missing since our father had disappeared. I’d done everything I could to give him a good life, but he was half cait sidhe. He needed to be around his own kind, and that was something I just couldn’t provide for him.
Luckily for me, Ethan had pulled us into his small pack. We didn’t get much of a choice in the matter, but as the days passed I was finding I didn’t mind so much.
Dean smiled warmly at me.
“Don’t worry, dinner will be ready in ten minutes,” he said.
As usual, he wore a plaid shirt and pale jeans. I’d asked if he owned anything else, and he’d just shrugged. I never thought I’d be happy surrounded by some of the most dangerous predators around, but sometimes we find home in the strangest places.
TWO
The pack took eating very seriously. I settled into my seat next to Ethan as Cade and Kerry brought the food over to the huge farmhouse-style table. We were being treated to the most incredible-looking roast dinner. Kerry placed a joint of pork with beautifully done crackling down next to the large roast chicken. Next came the large serving dish full of Yorkshire puddings, pigs in blankets, four types of vegetable, and last but not least, two huge serving dishes overflowing with crispy golden roast potatoes.
My stomach growled as I looked upon the feast. No one stood on ceremony. The moment the last dish had been placed on the table, everyone dove in. Ethan handed me a dish of roast potatoes, and we each piled our plates high with them. Kerry swatted Dean’s hand away from the pigs in blankets and pushed a few onto Matt’s plate. I didn’t think anyone missed the warm blush that crossed Matt’s cheeks as she did so.
I grabbed some crackling right from under Dean’s fork and grinned at him as I did so. The room was full of happiness, and I was revelling in it. Everyone wore a brilliant smile as they filled their plates. Dean passed me the apple sauce as I went to bite into the pork.
“You can’t have pork without it,” he said with a grin.
I’d never had the luxury of having pork with it, but I was game for trying it.
I put a dollop of the pale green sauce complete with small lumps of apple on the edge of my plate. Dean slathered a large piece of pork in the sauce before he put it in his mouth with a blissful expression on his face. I followed his lead and instantly saw why he’d insisted.
The warm pork almost melted in my mouth, and the slightly tart apple sauce brought out the richness of the pork. I was pretty sure it was the best thing I’d ever tried. Of course, I changed my mind when I tried the roast potatoes. They were light and fluffy on the inside and crispy on the outside. I’d never enjoyed food the way I did with the pack.
