Hidden Magic Trilogy Box Set

by Jayne Hawke

  “There’s so much in here. It’ll take me a year or more to even begin to digest it all, let alone put it to good use,” I said.

  “We have all the time in the world,” Ethan said softly.

  “I’m just frustrated. I could have been making a real difference in the world. Yes, I saved some lives as a bounty hunter, but I could have done so much more with this magic. There are healing spells in here, and protection rituals, and I’ve barely scratched the surface.”

  “And you’ll put it all to good use now you have it.”

  I smiled and allowed the frustration to evaporate. He was right. There was no point in wasting energy on what could have been.

  “Have you looked at the other books? Is it all information on spells and such?”

  I picked up the other two books. I’d only glanced at them. The first one looked to be more of the same. There were complicated diagrams for what looked like ritual circles and potions. The next one was different. I skimmed some pages, and it read more like a journal. I swallowed hard. It felt so person to be looking through Mom’s private thoughts like that.

  We didn’t have time to sit down and read every page. I needed a way to find some useful information. Sighing, I looked for a table of contents. To my surprise there was something like that. Mom had always been so organised. I flipped through to a section about a third of the way through the book.

  Ethan and I read together. Mom’s neat handwriting detailed the types of blood witches.

  As with everything in this life, there are many forms of blood witch. The first is that which dabbles in the art without feeling much call to it. They are the weakest and most common. To call them a blood witch is generous as they have barely more talent for it than an average witch. The next are far rarer. They have much more talent. That talent brings with it a risk. There is a euphoria that comes with working with blood. The magic is unlike anything else and it’s ability to corrupt should never be underestimated.

  These second type of witches are powerful when trained correctly. Untrained they can become dangerous as the blood calls to them. An untrained witch my find herself subjected to whispers calling to her and making promises. The magic is powerful and there are some scholars which believe it is an entirely different form of magic to the rest found on this plane. The whispers will become more urgent and potent. When the witch finally breaks the risk of them becoming consumed by the euphoria and the magic itself is too high. They will die an agonising death, likely taking a great number of people with them. This form of witch must be cremated to stop others from stealing the magic in their veins.

  The final type are not natural born blood witches. They were formed by outside forces. Their own magic is shattered, this makes them unpredictable and volatile. This form of witch should be eradicated for the sake of everyone.

  “Well it looks like we’ve figured out what type of blood witch they are,” I said.

  THIRTY-TWO

  I was unable to restrain the yawns. Ethan pulled me into a gentle kiss.

  “We’ll finish the rest tomorrow. Sleep well,” he said softly.

  “You were just looking for an excuse to get into my bed,” I teased.

  He grinned unrepentantly.

  I put the books onto the nightstand and scooted a little further down under the blankets. They were easily the nicest blankets I’d ever had the pleasure of sleeping under. I was asleep before Ethan had even reached the door.

  My dreams were full of images of blood and crystalline threads within them. The threads exploded into small suns and Sin’s face swam before me.

  “Why?” I shouted into the red void.

  Sin laughed and suddenly everything was shattered and broken like shards of glass.

  I woke up feeling confused. Reading the grimoire before bed definitely wasn’t a good plan.

  When I went down for breakfast I found Dean sitting shirtless and covered in a thin sheen of sweat. Ethan was padding around in just a pair of pyjama bottoms.

  “Sparring sessions,” Dean said before he took a sip of his coffee.

  I tried not to look at him, it felt wrong, but I remembered that they’d told me it was weirder if I didn’t look at them. Shifters were used to being mostly naked around each other.

  My eye wandered over Ethan’s powerful form as he cooked some bacon over the stove. He was standing side on to me as I sat at the main kitchen table. I had a fantastic view of his exquisitely toned torso and muscular arms.

  Dean handed me a napkin. I frowned at him.

  “You were drooling,” he said playfully.

  I threw the napkin back at him with a laugh. Ethan smirked over at me.

  “I was not drooling!” I said to Ethan.

  He laughed and grinned at me.

  Cade stumbled into the kitchen with his hair a mess. He muttered something under his breath before he continued his zombie-like ramble over to the coffee machine.

  “You missed out on sparring,” Dean said.

  Cade made a grunting sound.

  “I’ll remind you of that when you’re too slow and need me to save your ass,” Dean said with a grin.

  Cade ignored him and glared at the coffee maker as it slowly poured coffee into his waiting mug.

  Ethan served the breakfast, which consisted of a small mountain of bacon, eggs, both scrambled and fried, fried bread, black pudding, and hash browns. My plate was only half as full as the cu siths’. They were learning.

  “Ethan said you found something on the witches last night,” Dean said around a hash brown.

  “Maybe. I need to keep reading,” I said.

  I didn’t want to send us down the wrong trail. People were dying; we couldn’t afford to chase down a false lead. It wasn’t as though we had another lead, though. The witches looked like the most likely culprit - not that I’d put it past the fae pulling off something like this. They were very fond of trying to take each other out. Still, it was odd to have such a mix of mongrels and highborn killed. Even if they were from the same bloodline, the mongrels posed no threat to any of the fae that could afford to pull of something like this.

  Witches didn’t make much sense on that front, either. Why would witches try and wipe out a particular fae bloodline? I remembered what Ethan had said about a Lord Fionn in London. Hadn’t he bound a witch coven to him for multiple generations? Maybe these witches were rebelling the same way Sin was. I supposed I should be glad Sin wasn’t pushing back in quite such a gruesome way.

  Yet.

  I had joined Cade on his run down by the river not long after breakfast. Just like the pack, I needed to make sure that I was in the very best physical form. We couldn’t afford to let each other down by slacking off. It was almost lunch time by the time we got back. I ached in the very best way where Cade had set a fast pace and not let up until we were a mile from the safe house.

  Once I’d showered and enjoyed a small (for the pack) lunch, I settled into the armchair I’d claimed as mine and began reading the grimoire again. Ethan had tried to pick it up, only to drop it when it bit him. I’d warned him, but he had insisted on trying for himself. He’d mentioned something about Matt being half cait sidhe. Satisfied that the defence mechanism really did keep anyone but me out, he threw himself into his own research into the witches.

  I picked up a few pages after where I’d left off. The notes had taken a turn into the politics of the witches, which wasn’t what I was looking for. I needed to know how they worked and why they might be going after that particular fae bloodline.

  I was on the second page when I found exactly what I’d been looking for. Mom detailed the manner in which these witches had been made by the fae bloodline they were now killing.

  “Ethan, I have something. It looks like these witches are the result of a ‘Lady Morag’ screwing around with witch and fae magic. She experimented on this witch coven, aiming to make a really potent form of blood witch. Her experiments didn’t go to plan, though, as fae magic doesn’t play well with witch
magic. Get this: the witches can use blood like I can, but they need to drain the blood of life essence to continue living. If they don’t drain blood regularly, they wither and die.”

  “Vampires!” Cade and Kerry shouted at me from the kitchen.

  I had to finally admit that maybe, just maybe, they were a bit like vampires.

  THIRTY-FOUR

  Kerry and Cade were very pleased with themselves about the vampiric tendencies of the witches. They crowed about it for an hour before they finally stopped.

  “They’re not actual vampires. They don’t drink the blood,” I said stubbornly.

  “They need blood to survive, therefore they’re vampires,” Kerry countered.

  “So do ticks,” I said stubbornly.

  “Ok, so they’re human-shaped and need to blood to live. Vampires,” Kerry said.

  I was done arguing about it. Calling them vampires wouldn’t really change anything, so I let them have their fun.

  “Matt’s late,” I said as I glanced at my phone.

  Kerry frowned.

  “He’s never late,” she said.

  “Why don’t we go and see if he’s been caught up in some book?”

  “Sounds good. It’s not a long walk from here,” Kerry said.

  We pulled on coats, boots, and weapons and headed out. The walk took us across the broken concrete and a short way by the river before we turned towards the city. Kerry knew the way better than I did, so I let her lead. We were just starting down the river path when we saw Matt. And he wasn’t alone.

  My first response wasn’t a threat assessment, and that was an embarrassment of a sort. Matt was facing six opponents, a fae team doubtless there to pick him up as leverage, and he had them all held stock still in an impressive thanatophobic trance. Obsessed with their own deaths, none of them could take a step. I wasn’t sure if he couldn’t kill them or just chose not to, but either way he had an entire fae snatch and grab team – complete with adorable matching outfits – held in terrified thrall while they contemplated the inevitability of their own deaths.

  Either way, I couldn’t have been prouder of him if he’d won the Nobel Prize in brain breaking. I took no pains to save him, in no rush to interrupt a master at work, but Kerry was more immediately at hand. It was almost sad, like watching someone pushing over snow men, seeing her finish off the first of the team that had been sent against Matt. I took a mental inventory at that thought, realizing that I’d just reached a point where eliminating kidnappers seemed like interfering with beauty, and actually felt okay about the whole thing.

  Unfortunately, two executions into the process, the survival instinct of the capture team kicked in and they sleepily returned to the bodies they had so readily left to fate mere moments ago.

  Fear in the eyes of each aggressor made lie of their professional exterior. Whoever had sent them, whatever their purpose was, all they wanted now was to survive. I’d hoped they would flee, but it wasn’t meant to be. They threw themselves heedlessly at Matt, their fight-or-flight reaction picking the former. I grabbed one before he could get far and opened his throat with a quick flick of my dagger. Kerry took down another two with her claws, both of their heads practically removed as her casual executions turned to fury in an instant as she saw them threaten Matt.

  We both leapt for the last one in unison, but he got to Matt before either of us got to him, and I cursed my stupid, blasé reaction to the threat they posed. There was no good outcome to it, not once the fae reached Matt, and my heart broke as I felt his magic flare up in an uncontrolled, momentary geyser of power. The fae was dead, had to be. Matt was safe, but he wasn’t going to be the same as before, not after what he’d had to do.

  Kerry leaped over to sweep him into her arms, none of the reserve a centuries-old cat might have pretended to on show. I didn’t know what this pack’s story was, but I knew that it let two cats be in love without bringing out claw and fang over the details and that was everything to me right that moment. She and I shared a glance, and we were thinking the same thing. This wasn’t his fault, he shouldn’t have been involved in this, and we were going to kill whoever brought him into it.

  THIRTY-FOUR

  Kerry hadn’t allowed anyone near Matt while she checked him over and made sure his injuries weren’t too bad. The pack had come running when they felt Kerry’s fury and distress. Matt glared at us when Kerry finally stepped back to let us see him.

  “I’m fine. I’m just hungry,” he grumbled.

  “You’re the one who tells me it’s not a bad thing for the pack to be worried...” I pointed out.

  He frowned, and Kerry pulled him close.

  “I just want to eat,” he said softly.

  His eyes held a slight glassiness. A rage rose within me. Matt had always been scared of his death magic, and those bastards had given him no choice but to use it. I hoped that this wouldn’t leave a permanent scar on his psyche. He was my gentle baby brother, and I was going to tear apart the bastards that did this to him.

  Rolling my shoulders, I turned to Ethan, who stood at my side. Cade and Dean were pacing around the perimeter of a circle we’d naturally formed around Matt.

  “How do I get this bounty off my head? I’m willing to kill whoever I have to. No one is going to touch Matt again,” I snarled.

  My god magic being difficult had been partly to blame for Matt’s having to use his magic. I made a mental note to dig out the gauntlet I’d taken from the Aphrodite witches. Daggers weren’t going to cut it. I needed something more vicious.

  Ethan placed his hands on my upper arms and looked into my eyes.

  “Take a slow breath,” he said calmly.

  I gritted my teeth and did as he said. The rage subsided a little.

  “You’re pissed off because someone hurt your pack. That’s natural, but do not allow it to push you into making a foolish decision. To remove your bounty, we need to find out who has sent people after you and deal with them,” Ethan said coolly.

  I nodded. That had the potential to be a political disaster. Or a suicide mission.

  “You could speak to Ryn,” Kerry said.

  Her eyes glittered with predatory malice as she held Matt close to her.

  Ethan exhaled slowly through his nose and squeezed my arms a little tighter.

  “You’re assuming Ryn would speak to me,” Ethan said slowly.

  “Try,” Kerry snapped.

  “Ryn is the strongest lord in the fae territories,” Ethan growled back.

  “I am aware of who he is. You have spoken to him before. Pull strings. Make it happen. You know as well as I do this will only get worse. Are you willing to lose her?” Kerry nodded to me. “Or will do what needs to be done?”

  Ethan flashed his sharp hound teeth at her.

  “Do not push me, cat.”

  “You know this is only the beginning. It will end in her death or her capture. This isn’t just some idle game from a small lord. They all want her, and they won’t stop until they have her.”

  “I will see what can be done,” Ethan growled.

  I hated that this was apparently out of my hands. I wanted to tear someone limb from limb for daring touch Matt. The slight glassiness in his eyes haunted me. I should have done better. I should have been better.

  I finally managed to get Matt to myself after dinner.

  “Talk to me,” I said softly.

  “I used my magic. I felt the life within them snap and slip away,” he said in barely more than a whisper.

  I pulled him into a hug and stroked his hair.

  “How do you do it? With your magic?” he asked as he looked into my eyes.

  I hadn’t really thought about it. I had always done what I needed to do for our safety. How many people had I killed without really concerning myself with what that meant? Did that make me a psychopath?

  “I... I don’t know. My priority is keeping you safe. Their deaths are just a means to an end.” I paused. “That sounds so cold and cruel.”


  He gave me a weak smile.

  “I appreciate everything you’ve done for me you know. We’re not blood, but you have always given me everything you had. I just... I hope that I, that my inability to really fight hasn’t harmed you.”

  “Don’t be daft, I’m fine. Maybe a bit broken and screwed up, but nothing horrendous,” I said with a smile.

  He relaxed a little.

  “Kerry’s going to teach me more about my magic and fighting. I’m going to see if I can use it for good with my alchemy.”

  “I have no doubt that you’ll change the world.”

  He smiled at me.

  “I’m not going to be the pack’s weak link. I will master this and get over my fear. I promise.”

  “You’re anything but weak,” I said firmly.

  “This is a dangerous world. I can’t afford to continue hiding in books and letting you do the bloody work. I need to do this, to become dangerous myself.”

  His words broke my heart. I felt as though those assassins had stripped away something beautiful.

  THIRTY-FIVE

  Matt had been up before sunrise sparring with Kerry. He looked invigorated as I stumbled into the kitchen looking around for coffee. He handed me a big cup of coffee, and I slumped down into my seat at the kitchen table. Kerry was looking in the fridge for something or other.

  “Do we have any pastries left?” I asked Matt.

  “Kerry brought a fresh batch over with her,” he said with a grin.

  “You are a godsend,” I said to Kerry.

  I opened the box of pastries that Matt handed to me and noticed that all of the croissant had been nibbled on.

  I looked from the croissant to Kerry and back again. She shrugged.

  “I got hungry.”

  “So you nibbled on all of them...?”

  She just shrugged again and pulled a jar of blueberry jam out of the fridge. I ignored the croissant and helped myself to a couple of danishes.