Shadow Mage: (Witchling Wars: Luxra Echelon, Book 1)

by Shawn Knightley

  The three other demons did the same, watching and waiting for the right time and the right moment to strike. Their smooth hair, entrancing eyes, and masculine clothes made them irresistible. Any young woman who stumbled into the pub and managed to draw their attention would be left trying to figure out how they got so lucky.

  One by one, they approached complete strangers and struck up a conversation over thick stouts and ale, letting their victims take in a drink or two before edging in closer.

  I was left in a state of equal terror and fascination. I needed to get out of there. To run and never look back. And yet, I was left entranced. This was how they found victims. This was how they attacked people who knew nothing about them. Could it have happened to me? Were some of the men that hit on me when I went to pubs with Annette actually demons?

  I might never know. But of one thing I was certain. The demon at the bar flirting with the young woman from my class wasn’t going to get a struggle. She tucked in a piece of her hair behind her ear, casually pretending to flirt as he charmed her within an inch of her modesty. His hand came down over her shoulder, playing with a long lock of her hair. He let it gradually trail up her neck until he was holding her chin in his hand.

  Something was happening. Their eyes locked. Her skin went pale. Whatever tricks demons played to get their victims to fall into their lap and give into their seduction was on full display right in front of me.

  I didn’t have anything on me. No weapons and no logical way to tell that girl what he was and get her away from him. I couldn’t let that stop me. If I had to buy another drink, throw it in his face, and pretend like I was a former scorned lover, I would do it. Hell, at this rate I could do far worse. I could take the empty glass sitting in front of me and smash it into his head. Whatever worked.

  I was barely out of the booth when something zapped the small space between my fingers on my right hand. A light gasp escaped me and I hid my hand under the table of the booth. It was sparkling with cobalt blue light, zipping between my fingers and threatening to come barreling out if I moved my hand too fast.

  An idea seeped through my mind and took hold of me. No one other than the demons could see my magic. What exactly could I get away with?

  I had lost so much. I witnessed too much death. And I wasn’t going to let this demon have his way with the girl from uni and continue whatever wicked plan of seduction he had in mind.

  I reached for the empty beer glass and headed for the bar, ready to send the glass right into his head along with whatever magic was stirring inside of me.

  I took a deep breath and abandoned the booth. The demon standing at the bar had a mark on the back of his head. I was determined to hit it.

  I raised my hand high above my head and swung it down.

  A hand latched onto my wrist and plunged it down and away from his head, whipping me around and forcing me to face away from the demon.

  A pair of violet eyes looked down at me with an expression that can only be described as quiet fury. I cocked my head in confusion. His face. I had seen it somewhere. Somewhere recent.

  I tried to pull my hand away. He took hold of my grip with his other hand and pushed the glass out of my fingers. It dropped to the wood floor and shattered. Everyone at the bar was staring at me.

  The man’s hands were as cold as ice. The harder I tried to pull away, the stronger his grip became.

  “Ouch! You’re hurting me!” I snarled at him.

  “Excuse us, everyone,” he said, raising his voice loud enough for everyone to hear. “She’s had one too many. These tourists can’t handle their drink.”

  Everyone laughed at my expense. Including the demon.

  The man with his hand around my wrist yanked me away from the bar and didn’t let go. I glanced behind to see the demon still at the bar, staring at me with knowing eyes as he let his hand rest on the back of the girl’s neck, edging closer to her as she giggled with excitement.

  I did everything I could to get my hand away from the man trying to steer me out of the pub. I smashed my other hand into his back. It did nothing. He didn’t even flinch.

  Magic was still zapping between my fingers, desperately attempting to come out and daring me to try harder.

  The man pulled me onto the street and down a dark alley. I hollered and yelled at him to let me go. He only gripped me tighter.

  It wasn’t until he had me cornered and pushed up into a wall down an alley I had never seen before that I realized his skin was practically made of stone. He was strong. His jet black hair descended down to his shoulders, the cut of his jawline and cheekbones were pure Scottish highlander, and his canine teeth came to an impossibly sharp point.

  He pushed me into the wall and pressed his body up against mine. I tried to scream. His hand came up to silence me. I brought my hands around to touch his back, hoping my magic would give him a jolt. His eyes flinched but he didn’t budge.

  He let out a low and throaty growl. “Stop fighting me, Kayla!”

  I lowered my arms.

  “You could have gotten yourself killed in there. How many times do you have to die in one week before you learn just how incapable you are?”

  I didn’t know why, but his words stung. He spoke as if he knew me. He said my name, he knew that I died on that operating table, and above all, he knew just how out of depth I was.

  His eyes bore into mine, desperately trying to convince me to calm down. Once he realized I wasn’t going to go running off or try to zap him with my magic again, he stepped away from me.

  “Close your eyes,” he ordered me with his thick Scottish accent.

  “What?”

  “Do as I say!” It wasn’t a question. He was ordering me about as if he knew me. “Just do it.”

  Shutting my eyes before a total stranger that pulled me into a dark alley probably wasn’t the wisest thing in the world. But it occurred to me right then where I knew this man from.

  He was the man in the photograph William showed me. This man, whoever he was, knew my mother. And yet, he looked like he hadn’t aged a single day.

  I closed my eyes.

  “Take three deep breaths,” he instructed me, bringing his voice down in tone and speaking as if I was a startled animal. “Let them all the way in and halfway out. Hold for three seconds then repeat.”

  I did as he said, sucking in breaths, holding it halfway out, and then letting it out completely. I did it at least five times, feeling the zapping between my fingers begin to calm down.

  His voice reached through me and made the chaos inside my mind come to a standstill. “Tighten your stomach, then your chest, and last your shoulders. Do it three times.”

  I did as he said once more. In a matter of seconds, I could breathe normally again.

  “Now open your eyes.”

  I slowly lifted my fluttering lashes and observed my hands. My magic was gone. It retreated back into my body and stayed there.

  I was left alone with a complete stranger. A man I had only ever seen in a photograph. He stared me down with eyes that were half predator and half devilishly handsome.

  “My name is Marek,” he said quietly. “I was a friend of your mother’s.”

  11

  I might have tipped over if there hadn’t been a wall for me to lean into. Marek stood there towering over me. The man stood as tall if not taller than William. His eyes practically glistened. He was pure masculinity, looking down at me as if the most naive little mouse had stumbled upon a serpent. Only he was willing to show me mercy given I was so small in his presence.

  I instinctively stood up a little straighter, refusing to give in to the feelings of sheepishness I so often caved to when a man looked at me like that. I couldn’t be that girl anymore. I refused.

  “Why did you stop me, Marek?” I said with an equally strong voice. At least it was in my mind. When it came out I sounded like a little brat not getting her way.

  “Because you were about to draw more attention to yourself than I
would be able to get you out of. Your magic has only been active inside of you for seventy-two hours. I wasn’t going to let you risk it.”

  My jaw nearly dropped to the cold stone ground beneath my sopping wet sneakers. “What did you say?”

  “You clearly lack your mother’s stealth and ability to properly discern a situation. A good shadow mage never draws attention to herself.”

  “I’m not my mother,” I said.

  “No,” he said with a level of coldness that made me instantly stopped speaking. “No, you’re not. And you never will be if you try something like that again. It’s nearly impossible to get a victim away from a demon’s eyes once they’ve begun hunting them. That girl would have taken his side over yours in an instant.”

  My gaze fell back on the pub across the street. “You mean?”

  “Yes. That girl is already gone. The lot of them are. We can’t stop demons once they’re hunt has begun. William and I learned that the hard way with your mother.”

  I stared back at the man before me, unsure of what to absorb first.

  “I saw a photograph of you,” I mumbled, finding it difficult to speak with his eyes looking down at me. My god! He was as striking as he was dangerous. “You knew my mother.”

  He stepped away from me and I got a full look at him. He wore a long dark trench coat with the front buttons open. He would disappear into the darkness if he stepped any farther away. Except his skin was deathly pale. And those teeth! His canines were sharp like a wolf. I squinted at the sight of them, trying to figure him out.

  “Yes. Your mother and I found each other useful.”

  Useful? I nearly scowled at his expression. It went from dark and calculating to dirty. “I’ve watched you since you arrived in Edinburgh, Kayla. I watched your mother leave and I watched you arrive. You don’t know enough about the world you’ve wandered into to understand how things work. Edinburgh is my city. I control my kind here and keep them in check. There was a time when your mother was in line to do the same. She was near becoming an apprentice to the Roganach-Ciar coven master. The second in command. Only she fell into the demon’s snare before she could complete her training to be second in command.”

  I found myself staring at his feet, feeling far too exposed by a man I didn’t know. And yet, he seemed to know a great deal about me and my mother. I forced my eyes to come back up to meet his.

  “You’re a witchling?” I asked.

  He burst out in a fit of eerie laughs before shaking his head. “No, certainly not. I’m something far more sinister.”

  He smiled at me. His canine teeth shined in the dimming light as the moon began to show through the overcast clouds and the setting sun in the distance. There was just enough light in the alley for me to see them glisten before he closed his mouth.

  I shook my head, not wanting to believe the first word that came to mind.

  “You’re a…”

  “Don’t be silly, Kayla.” He edged closer to me and took my hand back into his. His skin was like ice sliding over my fingers. “Such things only exist in fairy tales.” He took my forefinger into his hand and let the sharp edge of his nail dig into my finger, breaking open the skin.

  “Ahh! Hey! What the hell are you doing?”

  Before I could utter another word of protest he pulled my finger up to his lips, sucking it in and swallowing as if the metallic flavor was actually enjoyable to him.

  My eyes widened. I yanked my hand away and examined the small cut he made in my finger. It glowed with blue light. I tucked the sleeve of my jacket over it.

  “Let me guess.” His voice taunted me with each syllable. “Your mother never told you about your witchling heritage or the company she kept.”

  “You’re a vampire.”

  “That scrawny man William cast a spell to erase her memories, didn’t he?” He ignored my question and looked down at me in disgust.

  I said nothing. Marek scoffed and looked away from me as if his worst suspicion had just been confirmed.

  “I knew she would run. I expected her to. But to have that man erase everything? I never knew her to be so cowardly.”

  “My mom isn’t a coward,” I argued. “She’s just careful.”

  “Is that what you tell yourself? You never saw her in her prime. There wasn’t a single demon that frightened her. She knew when to attack and withdraw. She had a plan and she executed it without doubting herself. But unlike you, she had skills to back her up. I’ve never known a woman like Brigit McKenna. I doubt you could ever live up to her.”

  I didn’t even know this man. I shouldn’t have cared what he thought of me. But he obviously thought highly of my mom. He didn’t think much of me.

  “Forgive me for feeling a little like a fish out of water when I didn’t even know about witchlings less than a week ago.” I shook my head. “You seem to know a great deal given you showed me how to control my magic just now.”

  “Someone ought to show you. You were about to give yourself away.”

  “You control Edinburgh?” I said, trying to get his attention back on himself and not on me.

  “I keep the vampires in line, yes. And magical beings who dare invade my territory without asking. That includes you.”

  I could feel my cheeks grow hot. “I don’t need your permission to be here.”

  “No,” he said, edging closer to me once more and daring to get within inches of my face. “But you will need me if you expect the Roganach-Ciar to let you live. I highly doubt William filled you in already on its colorful history.”

  “And why would you help me given I entered your territory unwelcomed and nearly attacked a demon openly in a bar?”

  His eyes went all the way from my head to my toes. He reached down for my finger and looked at the tiny glow of blue light permeating from my skin. Then he rolled up my sleeve to see the tattoo on my forearm. His eyes lit up. Even his lips curved into a mischievous smile.

  “Because once, long ago, your mother did the same for an undeserving scoundrel like me.”

  His thumb touched the ink in my skin and grazed over the intricate key design before coming back up to meet my gaze.

  “Your mother kept me informed as to what was going on inside the Roganach-Ciar. I told her of what vampires were doing throughout Scotland. We weren’t the most natural of company but together we managed to make sure no one got in each other’s way.”

  “And am I in your way?”

  “Only if you make stupid mistakes like attacking a demon in broad daylight. Didn’t William tell you that luxra witchlings operate better after dark?”

  “Aren’t vampires the same?” I scowled at him. “How are you even outside during the day?”

  He didn’t answer me. Instead, he completely disappeared. My hair flung back behind my head like a stiff breeze had blown out of nowhere.

  He was behind me in under a second. One hand rounded over my stomach and the other wrapped over the back of my neck, pulling me in close like he was going to drive his fangs right into my veins.

  I gasped, ready to scream if I needed to. Only he didn’t bite me. He stood there with me in his arms, showing me just how strong and fast he was. It was his way of sending me a message. He could kill me if he wanted to. To my great fortune, he didn’t want to.

  “Do I feel the same to you?” he whispered in my ear. His voice was dangerously close to sounding erotic. As though he was going to pull me in tight and move his hand higher up. He was testing me. Seeing how tough I was and if I had my mother’s supposed grit he claimed to witness years ago. I jabbed my elbow into his gut as hard as I could. It felt like plunging my arm into a brick wall. I nearly let out a yelp before he backed off and let me go.

  He smiled and gave me a tilt of his head. Almost as if he was amused by my sudden shift in attitude.

  “William might be willing to give you all the time in the world to put the pieces together but I’m not.”

  “William has been honest with me from the start.”


  “But he hasn’t even begun to scratch the surface of what you need to know to survive. You’re a half-demon. Your father’s blood runs through your veins. William is probably as afraid of you as he is curious. I’m not. I won’t hold back from telling you exactly how things are.”

  “Well, maybe William isn’t like you but I’m not my mother. I don’t know you, I don’t trust you, and above all else, I’m not willing to let you handle me like the demons handle those innocent people in that pub. Don’t you ever touch me like that again!”

  “There’s a reason why you’re drawn to that key, little demon.” He pointed to my forearm. “Your mother wore a necklace with the same key right where William placed that potion around your neck. It was a symbol of her power. Her strength. Her place in her coven as the strongest shadow mage in all of Europe. I’m willing to bet William didn’t reveal that much to you, did he?” He drew in his bottom lip and cursed under his breath. “I’m willing to bet he didn’t even ask you were the true key was?”

  I stopped breathing. The true key was around Fiona’s neck. If it was that important, had I unknowingly placed my little sister in danger? Or was the necklace like the vial William gave me? Would it protect her given it was a symbol of power?”

  “What are you talking about? I don’t have the actual key on me.”

  “Yes,” he said with a tilt of his head as if I was speaking the most obvious of truths. “Yes, I know you don’t.”

  He studied me for a few seconds, taking time to figure out how much he should say if anything more at all.

  “If it’s alright with you, I’d like to head home now.”

  “Home?” he snickered. “You mean back to William.”

  I reached inside my coat pocket to pull out the phone William had given me. “He’s probably already wondering why I haven’t called yet. So if you don’t mind. I prefer the company of men who don’t grab me by the throat, taunt me, and treat me with general incivility. William has had patience with me and doesn’t scold me for not knowing everything there is to know just yet.”