Hidden Magic Trilogy Box Set

by Jayne Hawke

  Turning, I saw the large range of fudge and knew that I needed to get some for Matt. I approached the counter and saw a sign stating that you could put together a box of fudge, sweets, and chocolates of your choosing. That was it. That was what I was going to get Sin. It showed effort in the hand-picking of each piece.

  A young woman with brilliant blue eyes and a warm smile took my order and bundled everything into elegant boxes. Matt’s fudges were wrapped in pure-white tissue paper. For the first time, I could afford to get him multiple flavours rather than the traditional vanilla. I added in some cherry, rum and raisin, and dark chocolate. I put together a box of twelve pieces of fudge, candy, and chocolate for Sin. He had seemed to enjoy sweet things, so I’d aimed for richer, more decadent flavours such as clotted-cream fudge and white-chocolate ganache.

  Now I just needed Ethan’s gift. Stepping back out onto the street, I looked around and saw something brightly coloured in the shop at the very end. I went to see what it could have been and was delighted to find it was an art supply store. Ethan had said that he enjoyed painting when he had time to relax. That was it! I saw a set of alchemically enhanced paints in the window and grinned. It was perfect.

  Each paint had extra magic within it to make the colours really come to life. The black was imbued with threads of shadow, the white had touches of snow, and so on. The variety was remarkable. There was one collection of nothing but whites with various additives. Cloud and snow looked very much alike to me, though I suspected an artist would find the difference meaningful. Milkweed latex, on the other hand, was somehow altogether different even to my eye despite the shade being almost indistinguishable. Still, getting him an entire palette of one colour wasn’t quite right. I settled on a set of eight:

  Black with shadow

  White with starlight

  Crimson with sunset

  Orange with flame

  Yellow with dawn light

  Blue with deep sea current

  Indigo with aurora borealis

  Violet with storm cloud

  Resisting the urge to add paintbrushes claiming to be made of faerie-spider silk, in part because it seemed like too much and in part because the idea of having faerie-spider anything in the house didn’t sit well with me, I took it up to the counter, making sure to get the wooden box gift wrapped. I was useless at wrapping and didn’t want to screw the whole thing up with sloppy wrapping.

  I began heading back towards the safe house with a bounce in my step. This was going to be the best Solstice to date.

  TWENTY-ONE

  “What did you get for yourself?” Kerry demanded as she got out of her car.

  I’d tried to drive myself with the spare car the pack had, but Kerry had insisted. I got the impression that was so she could bug me about my shopping habits.

  “I found these beautiful boots,” I said as I pulled a pair of oxblood ankle boots out of a bag.

  They had a sturdy three-inch heel and delicate stitch detailing running up the ankles with two straps and buckles. I had no idea when I’d wear them, as I was usually ready to go and kick ass, but it did feel really good to buy something just for me.

  Kerry inspected the boots and gave me the seal of approval.

  “I suppose you want to return to the library and hunt for whatever it was about your father,” she said.

  “If you wouldn’t mind.”

  As nice as shopping had been, I really wanted to get some answers.

  “I’ll take the gifts back to the house. Don’t worry, they’ll be safe with me.”

  I laughed and removed her gifts from the mix. Just in case.

  Kerry peered over at the small bags in my lap at the next red light.

  “Are those for me?”

  “They are.”

  “Can I have a little peek?”

  “No! They’re supposed to be a nice surprise.”

  She pouted.

  “What did you get for Matt?” she asked.

  “A selection of fudges. I’ve gotten him some fudge for every Solstice since we were little,” I said with a smile.

  “Aww, that’s so damn sweet! I got him some fancy alchemy book from a dead guy he’s really fond of.”

  “What did you get the guys? I got Cade and Dean shirts. A red one for Cade, a black one for Dean.”

  Kerry cackled.

  “Oh, I can’t wait to see their faces. No one has bought them clothes before. Ethan and I had just accepted their fashion choices.”

  She pulled up in front of Mom’s library. I gathered her gifts and thanked her for the ride.

  “Don’t make me come and drag you home for dinner this time!”

  “I’ll be on time. Promise.”

  I paused and looked at the building before me as Kerry pulled away. I should have been in there looking for more information on necromancers, but I needed to know what Mom had meant about my father. Turning, I set off at a gentle jog and headed back to my childhood home. There had to be answers there.

  The house looked to be in good order. I’d been expecting broken windows and blood, given the neighbourhood, but everything looked exactly as we’d left it. A quick look around didn’t reveal any potential assassins, and I couldn’t feel any odd magic. Opening the door, I stepped inside.

  The renovations had turned it into a new place. The kitchen was weirdly pristine in the pale winter light. I paused in the hallway with an increasing weight in my chest. It didn’t feel like home anymore. The renovations weren’t to blame, not really. It was just time to move on. I had all of the memories I needed locked away within me, but even they were crinkling at the edges. It was the secrets.

  Setting Kerry’s gifts down by the front door, I walked up to what had once been my parents’ bedroom. It wasn’t the first time I’d looked through that room for hidden things. It would be the last, though. Opening the door, I reached out with my witch magic, hunting for something out of the ordinary. It was a long shot but one I had to try.

  Something snagged my witch senses at the very top of the wardrobe. I retrieved a chair from the kitchen and stood up on it. I had to stretch up onto the very tips of my toes to reach into the small space between the top of the wardrobe and the ceiling. My fingertips brushed over cool leather. Reaching out until my muscles cried out to stop, I finally got a grip on the book.

  Pulling it down towards me, I saw it was exactly the same as Mom’s other grimoires. Why had she hidden this one up there?

  Frowning, I opened it up and swallowed hard as I realised it contained notes on my father. Mom had been aware that he wasn’t the loving man I’d grown up thinking he was. He was something far darker and more dangerous.

  TWENTY-TWO

  I curled up on my old bed and began reading. It felt weird to read something so personal, but at the same time I felt as though this had been written for me.

  The journal opened by stating that my father was a very dark fallen god. He had always been a protector in my mind. Yes, his magic was that of war, but somehow I saw him as a guardian, someone who only went to war to protect their loved ones. Mom’s notes stated that was far from the case. His nature and magic made him very dangerous and power hungry.

  My stomach twisted as the notes got worse from there. Mom had fallen for the beautiful man with the warm, kind smile. It wasn’t until she’d fallen pregnant with me that she came to realise his true nature. Beneath his handsome facade was a cruel and deadly man. Mom knew that she had to protect me at all costs, so she began using her magic to dull my father’s magic and instincts.

  As I continued reading, I saw the experiments she had conducted, the great complicated rituals to try and bury the darker more vicious aspects of my father’s nature. She worried about me, about what he would do to me if she allowed his nature to run rampant. Mom knew that she couldn’t leave; he would only hunt us down.

  She had been trapped with him, and all the time she’d put a beautiful smile and done everything she could to make my life as comfortable and happy as p
ossible. My throat tightened and tears pricked the corners of my eyes as I read the way she had endured her dual life for my sake.

  Finally, she found a way to use her blood magic to separate and hide the darker side of my father’s magic. It took a great deal of magic, which left her weak and drained, but she felt as though she could finally relax. At that point, she was actively trying to hide my nature from me. I was of the age where I was asking a lot of questions.

  Mom feared that I would become like him, cold and cruel. My stomach knotted and my chest ached at the very thought of her being so scared and worried about her own child and husband. The writing in the book started becoming sharper and less clear. She was rushing to scribble her final thoughts down.

  He has discovered what I have done.

  Those were her final words. I looked at the date at the top of the page and gasped in horror. It was the night she had died. My father had told me that it had been an awful accident, a mugging gone horribly awry. He’d said that witches had destroyed her body for their own twisted magic.

  Now I knew that had been lies. He had killed her.

  TWENTY-THREE

  “Kit? Kit, talk to me!” Ethan said as he scooped me into his arms.

  I’d read that final page over and over as tears streamed down my face. My world had imploded, all of the happy memories had burnt to a cinder in my mind. Every last piece of it had been a lie.

  “He killed her,” I whispered.

  “Who killed who?” Ethan asked as he stroked my hair.

  “My father killed Mom.”

  Ethan gently took the book from my hands and read it.

  “Oh, Kit, I’m so sorry.”

  He rested his chin on top of my head and held me while I tried to settle the torrent of emotions running over me. Rage coupled with a deep agonising sadness. That bastard had stripped my childhood and my Mom away. She had hidden a lot from me, but she had given her life to ensure that I had every chance at happiness.

  As I started to feel numb from the great surge of emotions, I realised where I knew the magical signature at the scenes from. My father. That was his magical signature. I hadn’t recognised it because it was sharper, harder. Whatever Mom had done to dull his nature must have worn off, leaving him exactly as he had fallen.

  “He’s involved in the deaths somehow. My father is. I felt his magical signature at the last scene,” I said.

  “Are you sure?” Cade asked.

  “Yes.”

  Frowning, I looked between Ethan and Cade. How had they known where to find me?

  “The pack bond. It’s still growing, but we felt your distress. I’m pretty sure Ethan ran someone over, he was in such a rush to get here,” Cade said.

  “They’ll walk it off,” Ethan said with a shrug.

  I felt like an idiot then. The entire pack had felt the great swell of emotions. I was supposed to be a badass bounty hunter, and there I was, crying like a fool.

  “I need to wash my face,” I muttered.

  I went to the bathroom and splashed cold water on my face to try and reduce the redness. Taking a slow deep breath, I shifted my focus onto the anger and away from the heartbreaking sadness. My childhood had been a lie. That bastard that had been my father would pay for everything he had done. I didn’t know how he was involved with the necromancer, but I was going to take him down.

  Dinner had been bright and happy. Sin had taken the time to make everyone an individual beef Wellington complete with pastry that he’d baked entirely from scratch. It was a beautiful meal with melt-in-the-mouth beef and light crispy pastry. Once we were finished eating, Ethan took me to his office.

  “You can’t bury those emotions, Kit,” he said gently.

  “Mom was terrified that I’d become a monster like him. She was this incredible, kind, warm-hearted woman, and she was held captive by her own husband and child,” I said bitterly.

  Ethan put his hands on my shoulders.

  “You need to let those thoughts go. They’ll eat you alive. Focus on the things you can control.”

  I breathed in slowly through my nose.

  “Ok. We know my father is tied into the necromancer somehow, does that get us through the bullshit the witches are blocking us with?”

  Ethan smiled.

  “Perhaps. I’ll mention it to Kerry and see if it helps at all.”

  I nodded.

  One step at a time. We’d find the necromancer, and that would lead us to my father. Then I could take my father out. I didn’t know how, as you can’t kill a god, fallen or otherwise, but there had to be something to be done. The idea of handing him to the hounds physically hurt me. No one deserved the torture they put the fallen through, not even him. Or so I hoped.

  TWENTY-FOUR

  I was up before anyone else the next morning. My dreams had been full of twisted images of my father looming from the darkness. Dean was the first to arrive in the kitchen. It was still pitch black outside. The enfields could be heard patrolling with their fluttering wings sometimes.

  “You and me are sparring. Now,” I said to Dean.

  He looked down at me and a slow smile crossed his face.

  “Lead the way.”

  We went into the custom-built sparring room complete with mats on the floor and a number of wooden training weapons. I rolled my shoulders and faced Dean down. This was what I needed. Running wasn’t going to cut it. I needed to kick something’s ass. Killing something felt a little too monstrous; a sparring match would help keep me fit and ready though.

  Dean was brutal and didn’t hold back. He used his larger size and muscle against me at every turn. I was forced to lean on my speed, and that didn’t help me all that much. Of course, my magic whispered at me to unleash just a little to show that damn mutt what I was really made of. I drove it down deep within myself, not wanting anything to do with it that morning.

  A hard blow to my chest sent me flying. I landed with a thud on my ass and glowered at Dean, who was smirking at me. Pushing myself easily back to my feet, I channelled all of that excess emotion and went back at him. Losing was not in my nature.

  We had sparred for over an hour. We were both drenched in sweat and breathing heavily by the time we finally called it a draw. I was covered in bruises; every muscle ached and was growing stiff. It was worth it. The release from pushing myself to the very limits and really fighting against someone like that gave me a satisfaction and a high like no other. It reminded me of who and what I was, of the pack I had around me.

  A scalding-hot shower and a strong coffee with a big dose of health potion had me feeling better than I had done in a while. Sin had prepared a luxurious breakfast consisting of a variety of scones, jams, clotted cream, and butter. The elf hadn’t stopped smiling since Ethan had claimed his bond and brought him into our pack. I noticed that there hadn’t been a single assassin attack since then, either. Things were definitely looking up.

  “I have something!” Kerry exclaimed around a mouthful of scone.

  “Couldn’t you have finished eating before you said that?” Dean asked.

  Kerry swallowed and ignored him.

  “There’s a male witch that looks a lot like the one we saw in the mall. One Andrew Webster. He’s 25, and it looks like he slaughtered his entire coven last year. Dear Andrew was reported to have been obsessed with death magic for years. He was a rare talented male witch. His coven was one of those forward-thinking ones that treated the male witches like normal people instead of studs. They trained him alongside the female witches.”

  Kerry paused to take another bite of her scone.

  “It looks like he still didn’t have as much magic as his female counterparts, and he began looking into ways to resolve that. The knights believe that he stole the magic within the rest of his coven and somehow devoured it, corrupting it and making it his own. He used their deaths to fuel himself and become a full necromancer. He only has death magic, but he’s damn powerful.”

  “Why didn’t they kill him aft
er he killed his coven!?” I asked.

  “He went to ground. No one could find him. There were rumours that he found a strong ally who hid him while he figured out his new magic and formulated a plan,” Kerry said.

  That new ally was my father - it had to be.

  “So where is he and how do we kill him?” Dean asked.

  “I’m still working on that part,” Kerry said.

  Dean muttered under his breath and slathered some clotted cream on a cherry scone.

  “How does that ‘stealing their magic’ thing work? My father said people would try and do that to me if they found out what I am.”

  “It’s very complicated and obviously frowned upon. From what I understand, they have to rip out the life essence and connected magical network from the person. They then have a minute or less to weave that into themselves. It’s incredibly dangerous, and usually results in a necromancer due to the sheer amount of death magic from the act. The one losing their magic cannot survive,” Matt said.

  “If he did it to one coven member, why didn’t the rest take him down?” I asked.

  “Do you want me to find out where he is or get all the gory details?” Kerry asked.

  I was really curious about how he got his magic, but she was right. We needed to focus on finding him before he raised any more zombie hordes.

  “We appreciate everything you do; have I mentioned that your hair looks amazing today?” I said sweetly.

  Kerry snorted.

  “Thank you, Kerry, your hard work doesn’t go unnoticed,” Ethan said.

  “I’ll expect extra Solstice gifts,” Kerry said.

  I bit back a laugh as I pictured Dean giving her more socks.

  Ethan put his arm around my shoulders and smiled at me.

  “You want me to figure out how to permanently kill a necromancer,” I said wearily.