by Jayne Hawke
I was running on reflex, on my father’s inheritance, but the war god magic was smart and more importantly clever. Armor pressed out from my core, replacing every cell before moving past it and returning it to normal, and when it reached the layer of dead, flaming flesh it simply replaced it with pearlescent perfection, a complete shell of divinity. I screamed out my agony and triumph through metallic vocal cords, the sound like a thousand out-of-tune brass sections, my arms over my head and my eyes completely blind.
I heard a high-pitched voice making a helpless demand of the universe, “What the fuuuck?” and then the armour receded, the magic spent to a tiny spark. I wasn’t dead, but I might as well have been. The burned tissue was gone, but that meant most of the outer layer of my body was, too. Raw muscle and nerve was grinding into the cobblestones in an agony I didn’t know was possible. I reached out in every direction for healing, feeling shock setting in. I needed more magic than I’d ever had to come out of this without years in the hospital, and there was still a gods damn war to win. I heard Ethan in my mind, heard him shouting through the pack bond that was the only sense I had besides a universe of agony.
“Get him out! Get him out, get him out, get him out you stupid, worthless, arrogant, pompous, no-perspective shithead elves, get him out or so help me I will burn your entire race to the ground and devour your death until all that makes it to the fae plane is your worthless, shrivelled glitter dicks.”
I felt his panic, his anger, his desperation, and above all I felt the protectiveness of an alpha dog ready to do anything to bring back the love of his life. It was a comforting feeling, almost enough to make me forget about the sensation of stone on bare nerves, and then I was bathed in blood. Powerful blood. God blood. I pulled on it harder than I’d ever pulled on any magic in my life, forcing it into the deepest parts of my magic, the primal spark at my core that did whatever was needed without waiting for my permission, and I felt an itch-tingle-flay-vomit sensation of deadly wounds healing faster than even blood witches were meant to.
It happened so fast that I knew it would be horrific, a mess of scar and fried nerves out of a horror movie too revolting to film, but I was going to get back in this fight if I had to scrape together pieces of zombies and staple them to me like Frankenstein’s monster’s ugly cousin. My ears returned and I heard fighting, desperate last-hope battle. This should have been over, the necromancer burned out and my dad in his hole. Except he wasn’t, was he? He was where the blood had come from, and as my eyes returned with milky half-reality I saw that, true to his nature, he was back on his feet and putting Ryn through his paces in a way I doubted the beautiful sociopath had been challenged in a millennium.
I still couldn’t move, could barely even think as the bizarre sensations overran all but the most basic of brain functions, pressing my mind into a tiny ball in a mass of occupied territory, but even that speck was enough to admire the skill on show. My father had brought up a classic medieval panoply, kite shield and broad sword with full plate mail, all in a blinding gold with white and black heraldry I couldn’t make out. Ryn fought bare handed, flame and something I couldn’t recognize accompanying every strike.
They spun and struck, Ryn on the offensive, the tiniest of smiles on his face even as his blows crashed uselessly into the divine armor of his opponent. A single missed strike gave Liam an opening, and his sword made an incredibly fast stroke at Ryn’s neck, aiming for beheading, only to have the blow swept down by Ryn’s forearm to sink into the upper arm. Ryn took the opportunity to throw a haymaker with his still-untouched right, crushing the side of my father’s helmet and throwing him to the side.
Before he could move, a trio of identical human soldiers were on him, their swords flashing as he dodged and ducked, taking them out one by one with his right while his left swung uselessly, dangling from a scrap of skin and sinew.
They were dead by the time Liam regained his feet, helmet abandoned. As he stared down Ryn, studying his stance, waiting for his opening, Ryn tore the useless arm from himself, throwing it aside without a single sign of pain. I expected him to throw himself forward, but he was still calm, calculating, a veteran duellist who knew the value of quiet.
When my father moved forward, though, it took me no more than a second to see how this fight was going to end. With his wounds as they were, Ryn was a dead man. The fact was that he simply wasn’t a god. The greatest elf in the world, which he very possibly was, was still half a step behind a god of war, and that step would be his last, as everyone who could help him was occupied with the remaining liches or the human soldiers that seemed to have come out of nowhere.
All but one, that is. I wasn’t healed yet, was barely even a functional organism, but this was the tipping point. Without Ryn, the fight was over. I struggled to one knee when I knew I was out of my father’s view, my face screwed up with pain, and began the arduous process of standing up. Around me, I saw the battalion of soldiers were holding their own against the pack and the pair of elven mages Ryn had brought. The undead were gone, and that meant the necromancer was, too, but the pack was all exhausted and running entirely on magic and determination. The outcome wasn’t decided, but there would be too many casualties and it would take far, far too long to save Ryn. I felt their cold, hard discipline, the anger and whimsy and pride that normally defined their fighting abandoned in this moment of absolute necessity, and I let it suffuse me, let it take the place of the mental strength I couldn’t spare.
With it, I stood, took one step towards the battling titans, another, a third, and when Ryn managed a brutal kick to the jaw that his magic turned into a ragged cut that practically severed the bottom half of his opponent’s face, I saw my opening. I took a final step forward, grabbing onto the fresh wound, and began to pull once again at the magic my father had left, feeling the life drain from him. He was regaining it, the shock of the blow all that was allowing me to make progress against him in my weakened state, but he didn’t have time.
“Elves? Where are the portal elves? Need portals,” I rasped, hoping beyond hope that my voice carried that far.
As we collapsed forward, the man I would never again think of as my father and I, I clenched my eyes shut and fell into the pool of blood magic, letting the cycle of taking his magic and then using it to take even more become my sole focus. When he was gone, I was surprised, as if suddenly waking from a dream more real than life, and found myself teetering on the edge of a glowing hole in the ground, my feet gripped onto by one powerful hand. The hole closed, and I collapsed downward, falling into a deep sleep I wasn’t sure I’d wake from.
FORTY-THREE
The following week was a blur of health potions, soups, salves, and nightmares. Every time I slipped into a deep sleep, I returned to that broken underworld. The walls towered up around me and the water slowly rose, threatening to drown me as I fought to grasp onto any piece of magic I could. It was always slick with something, leaving me frantically looking for some other way out, a portal I hadn't seen before.
When I returned to full consciousness, I expected my body to be a ragged mess of scar tissue. I braced myself for something far too gruesome to put in any horror movie. To my surprise, I looked down at my hand and arm to see that the skin was flawless. Flexing my fingers, I felt the tendons and muscles were strong and supple, perhaps more so than they had been before my close brush with death.
Ethan reached over and gently stroked my cheek, a warm smile on his face.
"He never left your side," Sin said.
"And I will never leave your side," Ethan said.
A warm happiness swelled within me. This was the stuff dreams were made of, or at least romance movies. That was, if I skipped the almost dying in an underworld constructed by my evil – by Liam.
"Any news? Is Liam gone? The necromancer?" I asked as Ethan helped me sit up.
Sin handed me a bowl of steaming soup with freshly baked bread rolls.
"Liam is safely locked away. The necromancer disintegrate
d, there was nothing left of him. Ethan's people made sure that there wasn't a single scrap of his body or magic remaining once the battle was done. There was no reason to risk someone using that magic and beginning things over," Sin said.
I still wasn't happy with the idea of my father locked in some pocket dimension, it was just begging for trouble, but we didn't have a huge warehouse in some undisclosed location. I took a spoonful of the soup and smiled, feeling the gentle tingle of magic bringing me to full wakefulness. They must have spent a fortune on pixie dust and other magics to go into everything they'd given me.
"Ryn is pleased with our work. There will be no more assassins. He would like to speak to you later," Ethan said.
I wrinkled my nose. That didn't sound at all fun.
"Is he ok without his arm?" I asked.
"That is healing. He has access to the finest healing magic in the lands," Sin said.
Of course he did. I supposed if I could come back from being burned alive, it was only fair that he could regrow an arm.
"Any other news I need to know about?" I asked.
"The enfields are having cubs. Matt has reached the next level in his alchemy apprenticeship. Oh, and we're all over the news," Sin said.
"In a good or bad way?"
Sin shrugged.
"We're heroes. We saved the city from an evil necromancer, although some of the upper fae are trying to use this as an excuse to clamp down on witches. Ryn is refusing to budge an inch. He believes in leaving the witches alone. The knights sent you a bouquet of flowers for your part in bringing down the necromancer," Ethan said as he nodded to a large bouquet of sky blue and sunshine yellow flowers.
It struck me as an odd gesture, but maybe that was just how the knights operated. We did save them a lot of work in the end.
"Damn, you look amazing. That's clearly thanks to my salves," Matt said as he walked into the room with a huge grin.
"Oh, absolutely, it was all your salves," I said with a laugh.
"Is Kerry ok?" I asked.
"She broke a nail yesterday, which she was pretty pissed about, but the injuries from the battle healed within a day. She only had a broken rib and a few deep cuts," Matt said.
That was my life now. We just shrugged off big injuries and battles with small armies of the undead. I had to laugh. So much had changed over the past few months, and in ways I would never have thought possible. I'd found an entire pack of fantastic people that felt like family. Real family, not the crazy family I was actually born to. Then there was Ethan, the incredible man that filled me with a warm happiness every time I looked at him. I thought that I loved him - or was at least falling for him.
"It's been one hell of a ride," Matt said with a smile.
"I'm just glad that you have a real family and home now," I said.
"I always had a family and a home, they're both just bigger now."
The smile on his face and the bright spark of hope in his eyes were what I'd been fighting for all along. Seeing him happy, safe, and progressing on a career path that would bring happiness to his world every day was everything I'd ever asked for.
The others all crowded into the room. Robin and Marion barged past Cade and jumped up onto the bed, where they lay on my legs and demanded ear rubbings. That was, up until they spotted the soup and tried to devour that for me. Robin managed to abscond with a bread roll. He squeezed himself on top of the wardrobe and looked very pleased with himself as he ate his prize.
I just had to laugh. That was my life, and I wouldn't change it for the world.
***
I'd pulled on a pair of pyjama bottoms and one of Ethan's t-shirts before Ryn got there. I was still healing, and I'd saved the city for him. He could deal with my less-than-formal clothing. The elf walked in wearing a stunning bespoke suit in slate grey with soft purple threads running through it. His brilliant green eyes sparked when he saw me. I noted that his arm was in a sling, but there were fingers peeking out from the edge of the pale cream fabric.
"Kit, your work with the necromancer was appreciated," he said evenly.
I remained seated in my armchair and waited for him to get to the point. I'd been awake for a couple of hours, and I was starting to get really tired. Healing that kind of damage was exhausting.
"Come and work for me," he said.
"Why?"
"Because I am the most powerful being in the fae territories and I can provide you with interesting work, more money than you could ever hope, and travel around the world."
The travel part was tempting. I hadn't even been to Scotland. It would be pretty cool to see other parts of the world. I was curious to see how the god touched ran their parts of the world. I'd heard things differed a lot depending on which god touched held the most power. Still, there wasn't a chance in Hel that I was going to leave my pack. We'd been through a lot together, they were my family, and nothing was going to separate us. Not then, not ever.
"No."
A smile flickered across the elf's pretty face.
"What if I invited your entire pack to work for me? I'd ensure that your brother finished his apprenticeship with the very best people in the fae isles."
I chewed on my lip. Now that was a tempting offer.
"What kind of jobs?"
I needed to maintain my integrity. I wasn't going to be some hired muscle who did whatever Ryn said without thought. I had ethics and morals.
"Jobs that will keep the Fae Isles safe."
"From?"
"The god touched, the uprising, the broken, the power hungry, anyone who would harm our people."
I rolled his words around my mind. He was a fae. That made his position in this world very different from mine.
"I have no desire to protect the fae, you've demonstrated you have more than enough protectors and power," I said.
"We can protect ourselves. You will be protecting those who can't. There are many enemies on many fronts. Some political, some more bloodthirsty. You and your pack will take care of the latter."
I didn't miss the assumption close he'd just used.
"I'll speak to Ethan about it."
He gave a small nod.
"You have one day to get back to me."
He left without another word. The entire pack swept into the room as he left.
"Tell us everything," Cade said.
"He wants us to work for him. To ‘protect those who can't protect themselves’ from threats around the world. He promised travel, money, the usual stuff," I said.
"And you said?" Ethan asked.
"That I wasn't making a decision without my pack."
"Travel would be nice," Kerry said.
Matt looked at her a little wounded.
"I'd make sure I wasn't gone long - or I could take you with me," she said as she squeezed his hand.
"He promised Matt wouldn't want for anything, that he'd have the best alchemy education."
Matt relaxed a little at that. He wasn't a combatant, and in that moment he might not have felt like one of us.
"It could be fun," Dean said.
"We don't need the money, but I admit that the opportunity to help more people and travel does sound interesting," Ethan said.
"I'm in," Kerry said.
"I would enjoy stepping outside of the fae territories," Sin said.
"I'm all for it," Cade said.
"Count me in," Dean said.
"I can't really say no to the kind of education Ryn would provide," Matt said.
"I'm not happy about working for someone, not even Ryn, but I do like the idea of helping more people. There's only so much our business can do; this could give us opportunities to do more. If Kit agrees to it, then I accept."
The entire world was opening up before us, and I couldn't wait to see new places and kick more asses.
"It looks like I'll need to invest in some suitcases," I said with a grin.
I grinned at my pack and allowed the feeling of excitement to wash over me. We had many more
adventures ahead of us, and I couldn't wait.
Continue the exciting adventures in this world with Big Bad Wolf – Two witches saving the world one case at a time. Perfect for fans of Supernatural.
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OTHER BOOKS BY JAYNE HAWKE
Urban Fantasy in this world (the god touched world).
Big Bad Wolf – Two witches saving the world one case at a time. Perfect for fans of Supernatural.
Urban Fantasy in the Wolf Ridge world.
Wolf Ridge – Baker turned werewolf.
Chaos Witch – They never saw her coming.
Paranormal romance in the God Touched world.
Dragon Knight – She’s the only one that can break his curse.
