Hidden Magic Trilogy Box Set

by Jayne Hawke

  He was right, I knew he was right. It went against everything I’d been taught. I’d been in hiding my entire life, and now I had no choice to.

  “I need to use my magic to help people. If I’m going to be hunted, then I need something positive to come from it.”

  Ethan smiled at me, a warm expression that spread across his face.

  “You are an incredible woman,” he whispered.

  I returned his smile and allowed myself to lean into him and take the sanctuary he offered. Even if only for a moment. It was going to be a long and difficult road. I needed every respite and spark of hope I could find.

  SIX

  The pack had gone out running around the moors in their big hound forms. Ethan had returned me home before they went out. I was a good runner, but I’d never be able to keep up with the long-legged hounds, and it was no fun slowing them all down.

  A run seemed like a good idea, though. I couldn’t sit inside and be cooped up. The idea of people hunting me, knowing exactly what I was, prickled the back of my mind. It should have made me want to hole up, put me on edge for attack, but all I could think about was doing normal things and not letting my life be dictated by it.

  I changed into a comfortable pair of leggings, running shoes, and my magically imbued leather jacket – just in case. I felt naked without my daggers, but Ethan was right. I needed to work with my magic, and I could form weapons with my god magic now.

  I took my time to stretch out on the pavement in front of our house. The sun had set two hours prior, and the streets were eerily quiet. I knew that there were predators prowling in the shadows, but I couldn’t hear them. The feeling of eyes against my back made me tense. Slowing my breathing, I continued my stretches and waited as my magic rose within me.

  The witch magic stretched out into the darkness and brought back images of more magic. Something with pale sparks dancing in its blood. I licked my lips as my witch magic reminded me how good it would feel to take the sparks from the being’s blood. Gritting my teeth, I set off down the pavement at a steady jog. I planned on heading down to the river and really pushing myself for a couple of hours. Fighting against the unknown meant that I needed to be strong, fast, and have good stamina. Leaning on my magic would make me weak and vulnerable. I needed to be able to kick ass without it.

  Fae mongrels and addicts watched me as I passed. I didn’t so much as glance at them, but I felt their magic, their life essence. The being with the small sparks in its blood had slipped away only a block away from home. I assumed it was a smaller feral fae of some form hunting for the night.

  I reached the river at a steady run. My breathing was still steady and even. A smile spread across my face as I glanced across the dark ribbon of water and saw the city in its night wear. Soft gold lamps spooled out light forming deep shadows and halos of safety. The old buildings stood tall and strong, stretching for the black sky. Thick clouds were covering the stars, but I could feel them there.

  A soft splash came from the river, and I hoped I wasn’t going to have to fight off a dobhar chu. The splash came again, further away that time. I allowed myself to pick up the pace and enjoy the quiet of the city. Gone were the sounds of addicts bartering for their next fix, shouting from drunks, and soft moans from the dying. Ethan had offered for us to live in the sanctuary of the pack house where I’d never need to worry about those things again. Our house was home, though. I wasn’t ready to relinquish those memories.

  Rustling drew me from my own mind. Suddenly, I felt the boundary line that I’d crossed. It felt like a deep murky chasm to my witch magic. I’d just run straight into the hag’s territory, and she was pissed.

  It was too late to play the supplicant, and at some level I was probably looking for a fight. For that matter, this particular hag had been an obstacle to my regular jogs for years. One way or another, the soon-to-be-dead were going to be washing their own clothes for a while.

  She shouted at me in Gaelic, something threatening or warning by the tone.

  “No! Fuck you! No one speaks Gaelic anymore, and you know it!” I replied.

  I gripped onto my god magic and yanked, trying to pull out a pair of arm-mounted blades I’d seen in a movie and had a good feeling about. What I got was a huge two-handed morning star I had as much idea how to use as I did a nuclear reactor.

  Funny stuff, I thought.

  I could almost feel the war god magic shrug its slippery shoulders. Apparently I was going to have a training day today. Everyone was being so helpful that way lately, it was just the best.

  The hag advanced on me, nails grown into ugly claws, one hand gesturing in a simple repeating motion. I felt magic coming, and grabbed onto it before it could reach me, drawing the muddy, malformed power into me. I was shocked at the strength of it. I’d been arrogant, had let the washerwoman’s appearance and lowly position deceive me. This was a faery, and there was no non-combat model of faery.

  Before the power could overwhelm me, I lurched towards her, massive club held in front of me like a longsword. My muscles were straining to keep it steady, let alone in a functional guard, but whatever her powers they didn’t appear to extend as far as summoning weapons. Thus, I reasoned, having it ready for a good whacking would be enough.

  I reached her just as the globular slime of her magic surpassed my ability to take in. As I swung my weapon clumsily down at the little old lady that had so confidently moved against me, I felt my lungs begin to fill with swamp water. I lurched forwards, coughing and retching, and she took the opportunity to sweep her claws along my abdomen before easily moving past my swing.

  It was painful, but shallow. As long as I could keep from drowning, I might manage to put my morning star to good use. I reached down into the blood magic my mother had given me and focused on putting life-giving energy into my own blood. I felt it stinging in every inch of my veins and knew I’d grabbed the wrong thread. Whatever I’d added, it wasn’t going to keep me going. I swept the slate of my mind clean and focused outwards again, taking a deep breath and turning to the hag who was steadily slashing away at the magically reinforced jacket Ethan had given me.

  It wouldn’t last much longer, and neither would my oxygen. I felt the breath being forced out of me by her water and pressed down on the flow with sheer kinetic force, keeping my lungs at least partly clear. I might have had the magical talent of a child, but I had the magical power of a demigoddess. I swept the mace at her in a long, clumsy arc. She tried to duck, but her martial skill wasn’t up to par. Filthy water was her power.

  The weapon slammed into her shoulder and tossed her to the ground. The pavement under her turned into soft mud, and her shoulder was quickly regenerating as algae slimed over the wound. She landed softly, and the swamp she’d made turned her back upright. She was good as new in seconds, or at least she looked it. There was no way she was actually made of algae. The repair job would be weak, maybe even superficial.

  “So, are you people born wrinkly, hideous geriatrics or do you start out normal and become horror shows over time?”

  She snarled at me and jumped forwards, swiping with her good arm and catching my raised weapon. Her nails snapped off along the haft of the morning star, and she howled in rage even as they grew back. She made a follow up with the other arm, and as she did I slammed the hilt into her armpit. I was right – the fix was nowhere near full strength. The arm sloughed off like rotten wood, and she panicked.

  She opened her mouth impossibly wide and sprayed me in a torrent of swamp water. It stank and shoved at me, but water was water. I raised the morning star high above my head and slammed it down, crushing her head and snapping her gnarled kneecaps backwards under its weight.

  Swamp water continued to pour out of what was left of her mouth in a gusset, but it was death throes. This fight was over.

  A river of dark murky water flowed from my boots when I took them off and turned them upside down. I had to peel my leggings and t-shirt from my skin when I got into the bathroom.
My hair clung to my face, and I found flecks of dark mud pressed against my scalp. Damn hags.

  Closing my eyes, I stepped into the shower and muttered a thanks to Ethan. Thanks to him, we could afford to have long hot showers. In that moment, that hot water was the best thing to have come into existence.

  SEVEN

  Once I was clean and dry again, I settled onto the couch and opened up the laptop. It was time to find a nice fun movie to lose myself in.

  “What did you do...?” Matt asked when he walked in.

  “Got into a fight with a hag,” I said casually.

  I was torn between the sequel to one of my favourite spy movies and a fun looking sci-fi about a heist on an alien planet.

  “That really mean one down by the river? You know that the entire ecosystem around there will be thrown off if you killed her. Right?”

  He flopped down next to me and pointed at the sequel.

  “She started it,” I said as I clicked on it.

  “I’ll remind you of that when we get a dobhar chu infestation. I dread to think what feral fae she was the only thing keeping out of trouble. There were rumours about a spriggan hiding out there.”

  I groaned.

  “Seriously? I thought spriggans only hung out around Cornwall.”

  “No, they began migrating and spreading a few years back.”

  Spriggans were mischievous gits. They had skin like gnarled bark, with a knot of twigs for hair. That allowed them to easily blend in anywhere with trees or bushes. They were thieves mostly, very dedicated and talented thieves. Americans compared them to hyper-intelligent raccoons. They enjoyed getting into anything and everything, and what they stole only made sense to them. There were stories about a spriggan going on a crime spree through Truro in Cornwall. One couple lost an egg timer, two toothbrushes, and a book on polar bears. Another house lost an old painting worth a few thousand, a bread maker, and some costume jewellery.

  It was very difficult to remove a spriggan population once they invaded somewhere.

  “Hags keep things like that in check,” Matt said exasperatedly.

  “Why didn’t someone tell me that?” I asked.

  “Not many people know or really think about it. They just see hags as a nuisance that gets in the way of their nice stroll.”

  “How screwed are we if I did, say, kill her...?”

  “We’d best look into some magical locks.”

  So much for a nice relaxing night.

  I was woken in the dead of night by a soft tapping near my window. Groaning, I went to roll over and ignore it, as it was probably just the wind or something. Then I felt it. The soft sparks of magic hiding within the being’s blood. I remembered that odd magic from earlier. It had been hiding on the rooftops before I went for my run.

  Grabbing the closest thing to hand, I stalked to the window and flung it open. The being was right there. I couldn’t see it, but I could feel the magic. I threw a book on ancient symbols at it. Whatever it was fled. To my irritation, it laughed as it went, a soft sound that fluttered like a gentle summer breeze.

  I closed the window again and locked it. My bed was right there. I knew it would be warm and comfortable. There wasn’t any chance of my getting back to sleep after that, though. Someone had been right there, watching me sleep. That was incredibly creepy. Of course, Matt and Ethan would tell me that it was my own fault for sleeping with the curtains open, but I liked to see the sliver of night sky as I slowly fell asleep.

  A glance at the clock told me it was going to be three long hours until Ethan arrived. I pulled a hoodie over my sleep t-shirt and trudged down to the kitchen in search of coffee. As the coffee brewed, I began to wonder who or what exactly that being had been. I was still new to the whole ‘feeling magic’ thing, but the sparks were odd. Everyone else had been threads in my mind’s eye.

  I helped myself to a large brownie as I went into the living room and opened the laptop. The internet was right there, but I didn’t know what to search. ‘Sparks of magic in blood’ sounded wrong. I had no idea what was normal for a witch, and what was weird. It wasn’t as though witches put their knowledge online, anyway, they were notorious for guarding what they knew fiercely.

  The coffee burned my tongue as I tried to think everything through carefully. It must have been a good climber to get up there. There was no easy route up to my window, no trees to shimmy up. The magic wasn’t like the pack, so that ruled out cu sith and cait sidhe. Chewing on my bottom lip, I pushed aside the sliver of fear with anger and curiosity.

  The logical line of thought was that it was the first in a long line of potential assassins sent by the fae who now knew I existed. I’d really hoped it would take them longer to find me than this, but there no going back.

  EIGHT

  “You threw a book at him!?” Ethan asked incredulously.

  “It was closest to hand,” I said as I started my second pot of coffee.

  “Why didn’t you have knives under your pillow and nearby?” he asked.

  “Because I foolishly thought I was safe in my own home. I thought I’d have enough time to pick up my usual work daggers,” I said grumpily.

  I appreciated Ethan’s replacing my daggers after I lost them in the fight with the hounds, but they would never be the same. My previous daggers had been a gift from my father. Now all I had left of him was memories.

  Ethan opened his mouth. I knew he was about to say that Matt and I should move into the pack house. He’d been pushing that line for a couple of weeks now.

  I gave Ethan a flat glare, and he said nothing. He was trying to help, in his very protective way, but I was exhausted and pissed off. Someone had been right there outside of my bedroom window, watching.

  “We should at least get some magical security systems put in place,” Ethan said.

  I sighed. That sounded exhausting and would mean strangers coming into my home.

  “I can look after myself,” I finally said.

  “You don’t own very many books,” Ethan said.

  I ignored the jibe.

  He came and gently placed his hands on my waist.

  “I don’t want to see you hurt,” he said softly.

  I ran my hands up his strong muscular arms.

  “I know that. I’m just tired, and really pissed off that these assassins have already found our home. I’d hoped to get a couple more weeks of peace.”

  “Would it be so awful to move into the pack house?” Matt asked.

  I wrinkled my nose.

  Doing so would take away some of my freedom. We didn’t own a car, and the pack house was out in the middle of the moors. I’d have to depend on one of the pack to get me anywhere I wasn’t willing to walk. The city was far from ideal, but at least I could get around by myself.

  “You can use my old car,” Cade offered.

  The cu sith had somehow managed to sneak into the kitchen. He was wearing a black t-shirt and faded blue jeans, I didn’t think I’d seen him in anything else. How a man of his size snuck anywhere was beyond me, and yet he’d done it.

  I chewed on my bottom lip. The offer was very kind, but I wanted to stand on my own two feet. I didn’t want to be some pampered and feeble being that the pack felt the need to swaddle in cotton wool.

  “Why don’t you move into the pack house, Matt? I’ll feel better knowing you’re away from this mess,” I said.

  He narrowed his eyes at me.

  “I’m not abandoning you.”

  “You wouldn’t be abandoning me. You’d be keeping yourself safe.”

  He crossed his arms and glared at me.

  “No. We both go, or we both stay.”

  Stubbornness was painted across his delicate features. His mind was made up, and I knew from past experience that nothing was going to make him budge.

  “I don’t want a security company tromping around my home,” I said to Ethan.

  “Then at least keep a few more weapons by your bed,” he said.

  “I’m sure Ker
ry has some spare she can give you,” Cade said helpfully.

  “Thanks guys. Who wants coffee?” I asked.

  Ethan guided me to the empty chair by the kitchen table and pulled me into his lap.

  “We need to do more work with your magic,” he said.

  “You hired me because I was, am, the best bounty hunter in the city,” I reminded him.

  He stroked my cheek gently.

  “I know, but I’m allowed to worry. These are elite fae assassins, it’s a very different gig.”

  A desire to prove them all wrong, to show them that I could handle myself just fine rose within me. I quelled it. Getting into a big fight just to stroke my own ego was beyond stupid.

  “I understand. Just, don’t smother me, ok?”

  He nodded and handed me the mug of coffee Cade had brought over.

  “Any news on the vampires?” Matt asked.

  “Vampires don’t exist,” I said reflexively.

  “Someone, or something, has been draining their victims of blood,” Matt said.

  He gave me a pointed look.

  I rolled my eyes.

  “So they’re a psycho, or a really ballsy witch,” I said.

  “No, there haven’t been any more victims yet,” Ethan said.

  “You think there will be more,” I said.

  “Unfortunately, yes. If it is a witch, then they have proven they can get a lot of very potent blood. That’s going to be too good to resist.”

  “Do we have any leads?”

  “None. No evidence was left at the site, and the list of enemies for the victim was a couple of miles long.”

  “I thought cu sith could get a scent off anything,” I teased.

  Ethan pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes a little.

  “Even I have my limits.”

  NINE

  Matt had headed to his alchemy apprenticeship and I went to the pack house with the guys. Kerry was in another set of adorable cat-themed pyjama bottoms. I wasn’t sure whether I should be worried, given she’d been in leather every time I’d seen her up until recently.