I looked over at Aiden.
He was smiling at me. At us.
Happily, I thought.
So I ignored the tiny voice clamoring in the back of my mind, and smiled back at him.
Everything was going to be fine.
Everything was perfect, actually.
I couldn’t be happier.
Easily slipping past her guard, I slammed my palm against the shapeshifter’s chest. She flew back, landing on the grass without any attempt to break her fall, gasping for air.
Laughter filtered across the yard from the back patio, where two of the five sorcerers currently in residence lounged. Khalid and Grosvenor. The witches were in the kitchen, baking bread and prepping dinner even though it wasn’t even time for tea yet. Aiden was in the study with Isa, rewriting the contract they’d prepared based on Sky’s additions and corrections. Kader was in the pentagram in the loft — I could feel the power of it rising and falling. He and Cerise hadn’t come face to face yet.
I placed my hands on my hips, glowering at the downed shifter wheezing for breath.
Dark hair tumbling around her face, Jenni Raymond snarled, “I’m going to tear their faces off!” Her magic welled, glinting green in her light-brown eyes.
Finally.
“Not if you keep dropping your left elbow,” I said dispassionately. Then I leaned in, making a show of eyeing her right ankle.
She tore her gaze away from the chuckling sorcerers on the back patio, frowning and looking at her foot. “What?”
“I’m just wondering when you injured your ankle.”
She hauled herself up onto her feet. “It’s fine. I’m fine.”
“Really? Because you keep tripping yourself.”
She stalked toward me, hands clenched at her sides. “If you weren’t so freakishly strong,” she snarled quietly, flicking her gaze over my shoulder.
Constable Jenni Raymond hadn’t been pleased to find the house filled with sorcerers and witches when she’d shown up for her afternoon training session on her day off. I couldn’t quite tell if she was happy Christopher wasn’t around or not. Though Jenni was usually fairly easy to read, she was completely oblique when it came to the clairvoyant. Perhaps she simply wasn’t interested anymore.
“I barely touched you,” I murmured back, pleased that Jenni was being guarded about my own abilities.
She rubbed her chest, grimacing. “I know.”
“I’ve had my ass kicked numerous times by a shapeshifter.”
“So you’ve said. Over and over.”
I gave her a look. Once. I’d mentioned it once before. As encouragement.
She grinned unrepentantly, then sobered. “There’s no way I’m trying to take warrior form in front of them.” She nodded in the direction of the sorcerers.
I didn’t blame her. Jenni’s warrior form was definitely a work in progress, and something I wasn’t at all capable of helping her with. Transforming was still a struggle for the shifter, only becoming easier for her around the full moon. I’d informed her that was just a mental block, and that her magic was strong enough now — having been amplified by me twice — that the transition between forms should have been coming easily at any time.
She accepted and practiced the meditation and strength-training exercises I gave her — even as she steadfastly ignored the psychological component.
Jenni set herself into a ready stance, but her gaze flicked to the patio again. She was completely distracted. I’d already thrown her five times, and I knew that doing so a sixth time wouldn’t help.
I turned, pointing at Grosvenor. “You. Make yourself useful.”
The curse breaker blinked at me, startled but half rising from his chair at my command. Khalid laughed, shoving his cousin in the direction of the stairs.
“Emma,” Jenni growled quietly, “I’m not interested in testing any ‘natural resistance’ to magic with asshole evil sorcerers.”
“Dark,” I corrected. “Dark sorcerers. Except for the one in the loft, I’m not certain they’ve been established as evil. Yet.”
She jabbed her finger toward the house, her magic flaring around her. “Isa Azar put me in a cage!”
Grosvenor strolled toward us over the grass. He had abandoned his suit jacket and rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt, exposing his dark-skinned, muscled forearms.
“I’m pretty sure that was Ruwa,” I said to Jenni, noting Sky as she paused in the open doorway to the kitchen. Her gaze was on the curse breaker.
Jenni huffed, peeved.
Isa had made himself scarce since the moment the RCMP officer pulled into the driveway. Smart sorcerer.
Grosvenor grinned at me, and then turned the expression on Jenni. I gathered it was charming, since the shifter tilted her head slightly and offered him a curl of her lips in response.
“I’ve been enjoying the show,” he drawled, still smiling at Jenni.
“Yeah,” Jenni drawled back. “Because seeing a woman getting beaten is such a turn-on.”
The curse breaker lost the smile. “That’s … not …” He glanced at me, as if he thought I was going to help him.
I kept my expression blank. The shifter could fight her own battles, and I needed to let her.
Grosvenor cleared his throat. “How may I be of assistance? I would prefer to not be … beaten either.”
Jenni looked at me, hands on her hips. Completely belligerent. Yet she showed up to train, week after week. She was already stronger and faster than she had been three months ago. And she hadn’t asked me to amplify her again. No shortcuts for Jenni Raymond.
I was oddly impressed.
My standards had obviously been lowered.
“I’d like you to set spells around the property,” I said. “Curses and such, nothing lethal. For Jenni to sniff out.”
The shifter’s expression soured, but she didn’t protest.
Grosvenor’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully as he nodded. “In human form?”
“Yes.”
He tilted his head, assessing Jenni. All business now. “That’s more difficult.”
“And therefore a more superior skill set to try to build.”
“True. Give me a few minutes.” He glanced back at the house. Sky was no longer hovering in the doorway. “I’ll start in the front yard. And Khalid can work through the garden. Actually, one of the witches should help as well, to change it up.” He started toward the house.
“I have dinner plans,” Jenni grumbled.
“Khalid,” Grosvenor said, jogging up the patio steps. “Do you have any charges on you?”
“Charges?” Jenni squeaked. “What the hell?”
“Hey, Sky!” The curse breaker bellowed into the house. “Come make yourself useful.”
Jenni raised an eyebrow. “Charming.”
“He seems to think so,” I said.
She barked out a laugh. “I’m surprised you noticed.”
I lunged for her, moving deliberately leisurely.
Her eyes widened, arms flailing — but she at least attempted to lean out of my way. Way, way too slowly.
I grabbed her wrist, feigning snapping it while still holding onto it. “This arm is now useless.” Still moving at quarter speed, I slammed my hand into her chest — again. She stumbled but didn’t fall, but only because I was still hanging on to her wrist. “And that would have fractured a few ribs.”
“Damn you,” she wheezed. And then — finally — she twisted, freeing her wrist from my loose grasp and managing to get her leg up to kick out at me.
I snapped a front kick to the thigh of her standing leg — deliberately avoiding her knee. Shifters healed quickly, but if I mangled Jenni’s knee, she’d be off work for at least a week, then limping and useless for weeks after.
She fell. Then she just lay there on the grass, panting up at me angrily. “One of these days,” she snarled. “I’m going to hit you. And it’s going to hurt.”
I grinned at her. “I look forward to it.”
&n
bsp; “Insane,” she muttered, making it upright into a crouch. Her gaze settled on the two sorcerers and the witch taking off in different directions from the house. Grosvenor and Sky crossed around to the front while Khalid strolled toward the fenced garden.
Familiar magic bloomed in the kitchen.
Then the screaming started.
I ran, instantly leaving Jenni behind me as I leaped the patio stairs.
More magic exploded. Witch magic by its tenor, though I wasn’t sensitive enough to know who was casting or what spells they were wielding.
A terrible roar rattled the windows.
Paisley.
In pain.
I cleared the doorway, feeling the magic of the witches to my immediate right. The kitchen table and chairs had disappeared.
The demon dog, all wild mane, blazing red eyes, and flashing jagged teeth, occupied the entire surface of the kitchen island. Sickle claws curled around the edge of the speckled quartz counter, digging into the side gable. Magic not her own writhed around her, as if attempting to grab hold. She gnashed and roared again, bellowing her rage at the two witches cowering in the corner.
I pivoted, getting myself between them and Paisley.
I’d been wrong about the cowering. Cerise was standing with her hands thrust forward. Ocean was tucked behind her.
Magic boiled from the dark-haired witch, blue strands of power twisting down her arms. And in the center of her forehead, set between her eyes, a deep point of power glowed. Like a third eye, so bright that I couldn’t look directly at it.
I’d never seen anything like it.
I threw up my own hands in a protective gesture, warning Cerise off. Clearly demonstrating that Paisley wasn’t to be harmed.
The dark-haired witch looked me dead in the eye, a slight smirk curling one side of her mouth. Then she released the spell she’d been building.
I knew the moment before it hit me that it was going to hurt.
I didn’t recognize the tenor of the magic — which meant it was a spell I hadn’t encountered yet.
I let my own magic loose, flaring it around me in the hopes that somehow the raw power would mitigate the hit.
Cerise’s spell seared across my hands, wrists, and forearms, slamming into and across my chest. It actually picked me up off my feet, flinging me back into the kitchen island, into Paisley.
Despite the protections Aiden had adhered to my dress, it shredded. My skin seared, pain streaking through every nerve, every bone.
Paisley caught me in her tentacles, holding me aloft. She slowly lowered me to the tile floor, scouring me with her magic, easing the bite of the witch’s spell as I found my footing.
No.
That wasn’t witch magic.
At least no witch magic I’d ever been exposed to.
The entire time, I’d kept my gaze on the witches. I saw horror bloom in Ocean’s eyes. I saw her grab her mother’s shoulder — before Cerise cast the spell.
I knew that Cerise had seen me standing between her and her target, Paisley. I knew because a look of smug satisfaction had bloomed on her face as the spell hit me. Then that strange reaction only deepened, her expression becoming knowing and pleased as I regained my footing.
“Stop!” Jenni roared, thrusting herself between me and the witches, arms flung to the sides.
Only seconds had passed.
I finally stopped twitching long enough to step forward and pull the shifter behind me. Paisley jumped off the counter, shrinking to her regular pit bull size and standing at my side.
Magic shifted behind us, emanating from the door to the dining room. Deep, dark sorcerer power, sleepily unleashed — Isa.
“First blood,” Isa drawled darkly from behind us. “To the good witches.”
Cerise just stared at me with that smug smile on her face. The third eye was still blazing on her forehead, her hands surrounded by magic.
I raised my own hands, calling forth the blade still imbued with Aiden’s retrieval spell. I wrapped my stiff, burned fingers around the hilt.
Jenni shifted around me, covering my right side.
“Next time,” I growled to the shifter, “just coldcock her. She was idiotically fixated on me.”
Jenni nodded, looking disconcerted. “Next time.”
I tilted my head at Cerise, anger dampening the pain as my stolen healing ability struggled to deal with the damage. “Care to try that again, witch?”
“Mom,” Ocean hissed, panicked. “Mom. It’s just the dog. I told you it was just the dog! Playing! Mom! You’ve hurt Emma!”
Cerise blinked. Then frowned. The third eye on her forehead winked out.
Aiden leaped the back patio steps, barreling into the house. He was quickly followed by Khalid. Grosvenor and Sky paused on the patio, facing the yard. Just in case the threat was coming from without.
It wasn’t. But it was still a smart protocol.
Aiden hesitated, his gaze raking over me, including the blade in my hands. He darted an incredulous glance at his mother. Then all emotion blanked from his face. He lowered his hands and deliberately relaxed. But his tone was cold when he spoke.
“What the fuck is going on?”
“Nothing,” Cerise whispered, her voice high and almost childlike. “Nothing.”
“Emma is a moment away from taking your fucking head, Mother,” Aiden said, still cold. “And by the state of her dress, of her skin, I’d say it’s going to be a justified kill.”
Cerise blinked, raising her hands to her face. “The demon is your … pet?”
“Her name is Paisley,” I said stiffly.
“Neither a demon nor a pet,” Isa said from the dining room doorway. His magic was still primed.
I ignored him, not interested in having him speak for me.
“A misunderstanding, then,” Cerise said, smiling at Aiden brightly.
“But Aiden sent that picture of Paisley last month,” Ocean interjected. “With his foster daughter, Opal —”
“A misunderstanding,” Cerise repeated, still looking at Aiden. “The demon —”
“Paisley,” he corrected.
“Yes, Paisley just appeared on the kitchen island. Snarling and snapping —”
“Playfully,” Ocean muttered, peering around her mother.
Cerise continued ignoring her daughter. “So you can see how I might misunderstand.”
Aiden blinked. Then he turned to me, eyeing my still-raised blade. “Emma? A misunderstanding?”
I frowned. Aiden’s mother had clearly had more than enough time to quash the spell. A spell that still felt as though it was eating through my right shoulder. That didn’t seem like a mistake to me. But I lowered my blade.
“Yes,” Cerise sighed, still using that almost singsong tone. “A mistake.”
For some reason, I turned and looked over my shoulder at Isa. The sorcerer was still leaning in the doorway to the dining room. I could see the purloined table and chairs behind him, magically expanded to accommodate more guests.
Isa narrowed his eyes at me, nodding. Just once.
“Emma?” Cerise turned her bright-blue eyes on me. “Please let me help heal you …” She stepped forward, but I flicked the blade up in my right hand again, raising my left to ward her off.
“I’m fine.”
She touched her fingertips to my outstretched palm, raking her gaze across me, along my arm and chest. A hint of the earlier pleased smirk crossed her face. “Yes, you are. You heal … remarkably quickly.”
I frowned — and realized even as I did that I was doing a lot of frowning. I didn’t like the implication that lay beneath her words, nor what I could feel creeping through the involuntary empathic bond made by her touching me skin to skin. Something almost … greedy.
“Cerise,” Aiden said, a warning in his tone. “Emma doesn’t like to be touched. I believe you’ve shit on her hospitality enough already.”
“Oh,” Cerise cried prettily. “Forgive me, Emma.”
But instead
of dropping her hand, she wrapped her fingers around my wrist.
My skin crawled, but I didn’t look away from the witch.
“Forgive me, Emma,” she repeated.
I glanced over at Aiden. He looked pained. And we’d been so happy just a moment before.
I looked back at Cerise. “It’s fine. I’m fine.”
She leaned into me. “Give me the dress after you change. I’ll have it repaired before dinner.”
I nodded, but there was something continuing to creep up, to slip through the empathic bond, that I didn’t like. I twisted my wrist against Cerise’s hold.
“Oh,” she cried again, as if not realizing she’d still been holding on to me.
The timer on the oven went off.
The dark-haired witch stepped around me, brushing her hands together. “Excuse me. I have to take the lid off the sourdough.”
“You ready for me?” Jenni asked Khalid, far too brightly.
The silent sorcerer nodded, stepping back out onto the patio, though his gaze remained on Cerise. Ocean continued to stare at her mother, as did Aiden.
Then Aiden shook his head, and nodded toward the hall.
I nodded back, and he stepped away.
Paisley trundled over to Ocean, and the younger witch hunched down to greet her, grinning. “Ha ha,” she cried. “You thought you were being funny!”
Paisley chortled agreeably.
I turned to follow Aiden, my gaze lingering on Cerise as she moved around the kitchen. Isa stepped up beside me, and we entered the hall together. Ahead of us, Aiden was nearing the base of the stairs.
“Before attacking a demon,” Isa mused, his tone pointed, “one might have wondered how a demon would have managed to get through the wards.”
“Summoned by one of the sorcerers tied to that boundary,” I said, before fully thinking through the point he was trying to make.
Isa snorted. “Who? Aiden? Because the rest of us can’t cast through it.” He paused in the doorway to the study.
I glanced back toward the kitchen, feeling only witch magic and Paisley. Aiden had headed upstairs. “Kader walked through the property wards easily enough.”
“Kader Azar doesn’t traffic in demons,” Isa said. “Because Kader Azar doesn’t share power.”
I looked at Isa. “Cerise is a ‘good’ witch, as you said. She might not understand that Aiden’s wards are powerful enough to thwart a demon summoning.”
Idols and Enemies (Amplifier 4) Page 14
