Touched by Fire: Magic Wars (Demons of New Chicago Book 1)

by Kel Carpenter

  The wind stopped at once. Nathalie’s hand dropped, and she turned, presenting her wrists with a dazed look.

  “You. Other guard,” Lucifer said to the one at my side. He’d smartly kept his mouth shut and not moved. “Hold her securely. Or do you need to chop your hands off because they’re useless?”

  “No, sir.” The guard stepped behind me and grabbed my wrists firmly.

  “Finally! Someone that understands how to take orders,” Lucifer said, throwing his hands up. “Anders, get this mess cleaned up. And you”—he turned to me once more, his cold fingers wrapping around my throat—“I was going to kill you. I debated having you rip yourself apart, a very apt punishment for betrayal, is it not?”

  I pressed my lips together, trying to keep myself from saying anything that might get my tongue ripped out. He smirked, his hand loosening. “But your smell . . . it’s familiar. Divine. You’re not going anywhere until I figure out why you smell like my atma.”

  Shock ran through me.

  This couldn’t be happening.

  I couldn’t be two demons’ atma.

  I couldn’t even be one.

  Yet, here was another demon, claiming I was their soulmate. It appeared that somewhere along the way, the universe just decided to fuck me in every way possible.

  Lucifer smiled coldly. “I like you better this way. Now go to sleep. I don’t need you overpowering anyone on the way.”

  “The way to where?” I asked, fighting against the instant urge to sleep. I stifled a yawn.

  “Sleep,” Lucifer commanded again. Darkness was falling as the last of his words reached me. “You’ll see when we get there.”

  And then it was silence.

  “Piper.” My name was whispered from across the void. Deep. Husky. Full of want and desire and something else. Something that made me shiver.

  “Ronan?” I questioned. Shadows swirled in front of me, forming the demon. Instead of a suit, he came to me in sweats that hung low on his hips. His skin was slick with sweat, making the contours of his shirtless abdomen glisten. His brands pulsed with dark power. Markings that I didn’t truly understand hugged both sides of his abs and ran across his broad chest. Both arms were covered from wrist to shoulder, creeping up the thick column of his neck.

  I swallowed. My mouth felt dry.

  “It’s early,” he mused. “You usually sleep at night like the humans, unless . . .” His voice trailed, and dark fire flashed in his eyes. “Did you use your power? I didn’t feel it.”

  He could feel it?

  That was possible?

  I grimaced. “Is that a side effect of the blood-exchange as well?”

  “No,” he said. “It’s a side effect of being a demon of great power. I can feel the fluctuations in your world easily because so little magic exists here compared to my own.” Ronan took a step closer. “But you didn’t answer my question,” he said softly. “Did. You. Use. Your. Power?” He enunciated every word softly, but it was not kind.

  I glared at him, unamused by his alphaholeness. I’d grown up among shifters and vampires. Incubi. Warlocks. Fae. They were all the same in that. He didn’t scare me.

  “What’s it matter if I did?” I said, choosing to not answer his question and instead see if I could get more information out of him. Ronan’s nostrils flared. He didn’t like my tone. Well, I didn’t like his.

  “If you did, and I didn’t feel it, that means you’re in trouble. While you can run from me all you like, I don’t want others butting into my game. You’re mine. Mine to chase. Mine to claim. Mine to protect.”

  “I don’t need your protection,” I said.

  “But you need me to chase?” he asked darkly, amusement flitted through his features. “To claim?” My skin flushed.

  “That is not what I meant.”

  Ronan snorted once. It was an odd thing to see. A demon acting so human, especially after watching Lucifer. He was anything but.

  Ronan took a step back, letting me breathe. He circled me slowly, examining me from all angles. “I know you don’t need my protection. Perhaps what I feel is closer to possessiveness. After so long of searching and failing so far . . . I can’t let you slip through my grasp. I’ll give you time. You’ll find that I’m a patient man, but Piper . . .” He paused in front of me and leaned in. Eyes like the winter skies pulled me into their depths. “I always get what I want.”

  “You’re not a man,” I said.

  He grinned savagely. “You’re right, I’m not. I’m so much worse.” He brushed a fingertip over my clothed forearm. “And so much better.”

  I snorted, rolling my eyes. “That’s what they all say.”

  He paused, frowning. “Who is this ‘they’?”

  I couldn’t tell if this was a moment where his knowledge of my world and our euphemisms fell short, or if it was jealousy. Primal. Lethal.

  If I had to guess, I’d say it was probably both.

  I stepped back, and his hand dropped from me. This conversation was coming dangerously close to flirting, and I didn’t flirt. Not with human men. Not with supernatural men. And certainly, not with demons.

  “Is it possible for someone to have more than one atma?” I asked, changing the subject. Ronan narrowed his eyes.

  “Why do you ask?”

  “Why do you? We keep doing this, going around and around in circles. I need answers. Either you can give them to me, or I can find someone else.” I crossed my arms over my chest and lifted an eyebrow. “So which will it be?”

  Ronan didn’t seem to like this exchange of power. Unfortunately for him, I didn’t give a shit.

  “No,” he said after a moment. “There’s only ever one atma, and if you lose her”—he snapped his fingers—“that’s it. No second chances. The madness will eat you alive as your power grows until you self-destruct. Now, why are you asking me this?”

  I lifted one shoulder in a disinterested fashion, preparing to bait him. If Nathalie couldn’t go find him now that I’d been taken, this was my next best shot—and the backup plan to the first one. “Call it curiosity. I met another demon. He also claimed I’m his atma.”

  Ronan froze. Black fire actually erupted at his hands, and it took all my willpower to not step back as its dark heat bathed my face.

  “He’s lying.”

  I shrugged again. “He said I smelled like his atma. I don’t know how specific these things are. Maybe you’re lying. Maybe neither of you are, and the universe just thought it would be funny. Either way, I’m not bonding to either of you fuckers.”

  The fire winked out, and Ronan took a couple of ragged breaths.

  “Are you playing me, Piper?”

  I froze. “What?”

  “Are you trying to make me—what’s the word—jealous? Trying to incite my wrath? You won’t accept my bond, yet your body begs so sweetly . . .” His eyes trailed down my form as if he could see and feel it begging. “I want more than your body, though. I want your mind. I want your heart. I want your fucking soul.” He stepped toward me. “It’s mine, Piper. I know that. You know that, even though you’re fighting it. No one else gets a cut. I do not share. So are you playing me? Because every time I’ve been near you, your magic comes out to play. Yet, you say another demon calls you his atma. Did your magic respond then? Did you?”

  He was leaning close, and the scent of dark magic, midnight shadows, and a musk that I couldn’t place enveloped me.

  Time slowed as we stared at each other.

  And then he said in that voice of dark desire, “It didn’t, did it?”

  “My magic lashing out isn’t a sign of some great bond or love or whatever you want to call it. You’ve said yourself, it’s rage. Pure, unequivocal rage. Maybe you should be asking yourself why it didn’t respond to him?” I said softly, steel edging my tone.

  I could tell he did not like that answer.

  “I suppose it doesn’t matter. Either way, you’ve said what I needed to know. You’re with another demon, and you’re aslee
p when you shouldn’t be, which means you’re in grave danger.” Ronan stepped away, his gaze troubled. I had a feeling there was something he’d figured out that he wasn’t saying.

  “Where are you going?” I asked as he stalked away into the void.

  Ronan paused and looked over his shoulder, dark promise in his eyes. “Don’t enter a blood-exchange with him.”

  I blinked. That wasn’t what I expected him to say. “Why?” I prompted.

  “It could kill you.”

  19

  Ronan

  She was playing with fire.

  While she’d revealed more than she realized, she was also holding back. Hiding something. I knew it as surely as I knew she was my atma.

  The desire to know what it was ate at me like a blood-sucking parasite buried beneath the skin. My lips tightened into a thin line. I sat up, dropping the six-hundred-pound bar I’d been bench pressing. I felt her sleeping.

  She may have detested me, but her mind always sought my own during that time. I simply entered her dreams and allowed it. My atma might be cold, and even cruel in her own way, but she was also mine.

  And she needed me. Not that she seemed to realize it.

  That stubborn woman would drink poison before asking for my help. That quality almost made me admire her more—if she weren’t so willfully blind to her own needs.

  I stood up and walked out of the home gym. The sounds of the city were more muted from here, but not gone entirely. I listened to them as I padded silently to the bathroom for a shower.

  I flipped the water to cold, and then stepped in.

  It helped cool my blood and urges where Piper was concerned.

  Damned woman made me want to strangle her and fuck her in equal measure in the short time I’d been here.

  Mentally, I reached out to my errand boy. My mind touched his, only the briefest of connections so I could tell him, “Get in touch with your friend. I need to know where Piper is.”

  “I’ll try.”

  “If you can’t reach her, then get me a location on Lucifer. It’s past time I paid him a visit.”

  With that, I retreated from the boy’s mind and turned all thoughts to Piper. Despite the cold water running down my body, my cock hardened at the memory of her ocean blue eyes, the way they narrowed at me in rage. Her full lips pursed in indignation. Her cheeks flushed with anger.

  Yes, she hated me. I’d come to grips with that. Some might even say I liked it. Embraced it.

  I was an old demon. One from an era long gone. I’d waited so long for her that I actually enjoyed this game we were playing. I enjoyed her hate. Her rage.

  Because her surrender when she gave it up would be all the sweeter.

  20

  My eyes opened before I could ask him anything further. The void disappeared, replaced by low ambient lighting. I turned my head to see a man’s back. He faced the other way, looking out a window that spanned the length of the wall, floor to ceiling. He wore white, and his hands clasped behind his back.

  Lucifer.

  I blinked twice, trying to clear the sleep from my eyes, then I swallowed hard. My throat was dry. How long had I been asleep?

  “There’s water on the end table. Drink it.” His lilting voice washed over me. It poked and prodded, looking for my weak spots. I resisted it through sheer force of will, but I sat up all the same. My back was sore, and my head scrambled. Everything was foggy, as if my mind had been filled with cotton.

  I took a sweeping glance of the space and found we were alone in a darkened room. Music played softly, only sounds without words. A grand piano sat untouched at the other side of the room. Its black wood polished and shining beneath the spotlights. I was seated on a long white modern couch. Two matching chairs sat at either end, facing inward. The couch faced the window, but from this vantage point I couldn’t see much.

  I reached for the water. The glass was cool against my fingers. I had to resist pressing it against my forehead and instead swallowed it down, hoping it wasn’t poisoned or drugged. It wasn’t like I had many other options. Ronan would either find me, or he wouldn’t.

  “How are you feeling?” Lucifer asked, still facing away from me. I found it odd given the madness I’d seen. He didn’t strike me as the type of person to give a shit about others.

  “I’ve been worse,” I said, testing my voice. It was hoarse, but the water had helped. “Where am I?” I asked, setting the glass back down.

  “We’re still in New Chicago,” Lucifer answered.

  I leaned forward, testing my muscles. They felt fine, if not a bit sore. I stood up and walked toward the window. My breath caught in my chest.

  “The Underworld?” I said. Below us, stands rose up on all sides. A sandpit sat in the middle of the arena. The walls were stained reddish-brown with blood. More of the substance covered the arena, and I chose not to look too closely at the two people fighting in it.

  “You recognize it?”

  “There’s only one place in New Chicago that allows pit fights,” I said instead of answering. “Or I suppose I should say, only one place you allow. All others, human or not, you shut down before they got going. Must make for good business when yours is the only one around.”

  In truth, I’d managed to sneak in here twice. Both times for targets. The Underworld was a place that only supes could go. Within its borders, humans were sold and killed with no consequences, and no one bothered to stop it. I didn’t exactly make a point to visit when I identified as human.

  “You must not come here often, or I’d have found you long before now,” Lucifer said, ignoring the rest of my statement. My muscles locked up.

  “I worked for you for three years, and you never noticed me,” I replied.

  His perfect lips curled up on one side as he finally looked at me. Slow. His gaze roaming. Undressing. My hand instinctively went for my gun. But my holster was gone, along with any weapons I might have had. I closed my fist and squeezed, never having felt so powerless.

  “You’re wrong. I noticed, but I thought you were human. Your kill count was higher than any hunter, supernatural or not. I should have looked closer. I’ll admit that. My arrogance blinded me from thinking there might be more to you.”

  There was a lot of what he had said that was fucked up, but the thing my brain focused on was I thought you were human.

  “I am human,” I said, repeating that tired line.

  Lucifer turned away from the match entirely and took a step toward me. Mirth danced in his expression again. Along with something else. “You expect me to believe that?” he asked, lifting both brows. “I questioned Anders. He claims the same. If it weren’t for my compulsion being infallible, I’d have thought he was lying,” Lucifer said. He took a step toward me. I stood my ground, glaring up at him. The demon reached for me, and I slapped his hand away.

  A hint of his ire, his fury, bled into his expression.

  Lucifer’s eyes glowed, but then as fast as the change had happened, it halted.

  He smiled, and it was more unsettling than his anger.

  “I scent your fear and your anger. It’s an intoxicating combination.”

  My stomach turned in disgust, reminding me to not be fooled by his pretty face. It was a mask for a monster. “Why am I here?”

  “In the Underworld?” He motioned outward. “Because you betrayed me. Or do you mean here? With me?” My silence said more than words. His smile widened. “Because you smell like my atma, and I want to know why.”

  “I don’t know why,” I said.

  Lucifer reached for me, and this time when I tried to shake him off, he didn’t allow it. His arm encircled my waist and his hand gripped my hip. Nails dug into my flesh as he turned us both away from the window and led me toward the couch. “Actually, I think you do. You just might not realize it yet.”

  A foot away from the couch, Lucifer pushed me. I went willingly and whirled around, expecting the worst. But he didn’t sit next to me or come down on top of me. He ste
pped away and began pacing while rubbing his palms together.

  “The witch I interrogated that night said it was a male demon that crossed over,” he started. I squinted up at him. He paused and looked at me expectantly, waiting for an answer.

  “It was,” I said slowly. He nodded.

  “So she must have crossed over before then,” he said. “Maybe she sought you out. Have you had contact with any other demons?” His eyes glowed, and I felt a power I’d never known pressing against me. It was seeking. Searching. He wanted the truth.

  I was choking on it.

  “Yes,” I said, unable to stop myself.

  His smile widened, golden eyes blazing more than before. “When?”

  “A decade ago.”

  The words came from lips, though I fought them. Fought and failed.

  I hated it.

  His nose crinkled. I couldn’t tell if he disliked my answer or if he was confused by it.

  “But you smell like her now,” he said, then returned pacing. The crowd from the arena roared. If I had to guess, someone had died. Lucifer didn’t look up. It was beneath his interest when the prospect of his atma was within his reach. Or so he thought.

  I shrugged. “I don’t know what to tell you.” My heartbeat was picking up the more power he funneled into me.

  “How did you meet her? Tell me everything.”

  I shuddered under the growing pressure. Words forced themselves up my throat and past my lips. “There was a summoning,” I said. “A different coven than this one. I was the sacrifice. Or I was supposed to be.”

  “What happened?” he asked, dark emotion entering his voice. He came to kneel in front of me.

  “We tore a rift between the worlds and put out a call. The demon that answered—” I tried to fight it. To halt the words. To not spill my secrets at his feet. Lucifer’s eyes narrowed, and he placed his hands on either side of my face. Power slammed into me. My heartbeat thrummed, then raced. Adrenaline was flooding my system. I didn’t have long. His eyes shined so bright I had to close my own against the glare.