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  “You cut me!” Tanya stared at her bloody hand in horror.

  Quinn’s ward was failing. Behind him, Bobbi mumbled an incantation, trying to call up a ward. She stumbled over her words and began again.

  “Can’t even get a simple spell right. What a pathetic fool.” Tanya smiled, not a happy expression. “You don’t deserve that book. It should be mine. He entrusted it to me!”

  She raised her hands again. Electric sparks clustered at her fingertips, then she let them go, thrusting white-hot fire straight at his chest.

  Quinn’s ward crumbled. Pain seared him, locked his muscles tight and he fell into darkness.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Preservation

  QUINN DROPPED LIKE A STONE.

  His limbs seized. He stiffened, eyes showing white, and he lay still.

  He’s dead. The thought froze me. I looked at his handsome face, now slack and pale. He couldn’t be dead. Not now. Not when I’d found my way back to him.

  His chest rose and fell. Not dead. But close to it.

  A deep growl brought me back. Tanya screamed. Lost in shock, I hadn’t noticed the new battle taking place right in front of me. The imp-like creature returned and flung itself on Tanya. It bit her ankle, worrying it like a dog with a bone. Its flailing wings battered her. Tanya fell and rolled down an incline out of my view, taking the creature with her.

  I jumped at the reprieve and tossed the grimoire and the flashlight into the cave, then grabbed Quinn under the arms and hauled. He was heavier than he looked, and I managed to drag him only a few feet before my fingers slipped.

  Behind me Tanya swore. The imp growled. Magic flashed in lightning bursts. I didn’t stop to watch but pulled Quinn another foot. The bellwether had gone wild with all the aether discharge and filled the air with smoke. I coughed and pulled. We crossed the threshold of the cave and I slumped Quinn against the cool wall, hiding him in shadow.

  Another scream tore through the air, high pitched and inhuman. The imp was dead or hurt. That bothered me more than it should have. The creature had to be a demon. It probably came through the rift and followed us from the coven. But it also tried to warn me.

  I mumbled the spell to bring up a ward. Need supercharged my magic, and a thin film of aether stretched across the cave’s entrance.

  Thank you, Henry, for making me practice until my nose bled.

  Warding the entire cave entrance proved more difficult than calling up a personal shield. I pushed as much aether as I could muster into it. I would protect Quinn and the grimoire. Tanya wouldn’t be getting either of them.

  She limped into sight, her pant leg torn. A blotch of red seeped through her shirt where Quinn’s knife had struck. Smoke wafted in front of her face, obscuring and revealing a snarling expression. She grabbed the bellwether and tossed it into the trees, heedless of the damage it might cause to the dead foliage. Raising her hands, she tested my ward with the tips of her fingers. It rewarded her with a nasty zing of aether.

  She smiled. “You’ve progressed in your studies since we first met.”

  I glared at her.

  “You seemed like such a nice person back then. I would’ve never guessed you’d get caught up with Jane Smith and her precious coven. They’re not the good witches they pretend to be, you know.” She stepped back. Electricity gathered at her fingertips. “But then, who knew you’d turn out to be the daughter of a demon.” Her grin said, yes I know all your secrets.

  I had to keep her talking. My ward spell needed time to ramp up to full efficiency, a flaw that I’d been working to fix.

  “And you seemed so sane when we first met. Who knew you were really a psychopath.”

  Good one, Bobbi. Antagonize the murdering witch.

  Tanya narrowed her eyes. “Why haven’t you attacked me yet? Your boyfriend at least had the presence of mind to throw a knife. But I expected a better offense from the witches of the famous Hidden Coven. Is it because you can’t attack me or you won’t?” She seemed genuinely curious.

  I wouldn’t tell her about Quinn’s illness. And she didn’t need to know my limitations.

  “I may be new at this witch thing, but I make a mean ward. You won’t get the grimoire.”

  “Let’s just see about that.” She lashed electrical fire like a whip. I cringed as her aether clashed with mine, but I got a taste of the dark magic tainting it. That meant a blood sacrifice. And I knew which demon she’d prostrated herself to.

  “Koro won’t thank you for hurting me.” I gritted my teeth as she launched another attack. The onslaught of magic over-heated the air inside the cave.

  “You think he has fatherly concern for you?” Tanya barked a laugh. Sweat dripped down her nose.

  “Not so much, but Dad has big plans for me.”

  Tanya hurled more lightning at my ward, and I fed it more aether. She let her attack drop away, her face red with exertion. Her aether couldn’t hurt her, but the heat had to be uncomfortable.

  “The divine one has given me free rein as long as I bring him that book.” Tanya’s curls clung to her damp face. She smiled. “He doesn’t need you anymore. He’s got me.”

  The sparkle in her eye turned maniacal. “Thank you for unlocking it, by the way. You saved me a lot of hassle.”

  I glanced at the ancient book lit only by the dying flashlight. I shouldn’t have been so keen to break the glamor my mother put on it.

  “I won’t let you have it.”

  Tanya struck again. Seconds ticked by while her burning aether lashed mine. She stopped, breathing hard.

  “You won’t last.”

  “I seem to be holding my own.” I’d sparred with Henry for hours. I could outlast her aether reserves. And then what? We’d fight it out like a couple of brawlers? I hoped Quinn would wake up before then. I unsheathed the hunting knife at my waist. Unlike Tanya’s ward, mine would block an attack from any weapon, but if she broke through my ward, the knife would be my last defense.

  Tanya bowed her head. Wind blustered through the trees behind her. When she raised her eyes, they burned red. She channeled demon magic. Her lips moved in a rhythmic chant. She raised her arms above her head. Blue fire spread from hand to hand, roiling in ethereal waves.

  No, no, no.

  That wasn’t the regular zing of galvanic magic. And it wasn’t firebug magic either. It was mage fire, the flame that melted bones to ash. Only the most accomplished witches could produce the blue flame, or those blessed with dark aether from a stronger being. The fire might come from Tanya’s hand, but the power behind it was Koro’s.

  It would burn through my ward like paper, then it would fill the small cave with flame, destroying everything it touched.

  She spread her hands, letting the blue fire flow between her fingers.

  “You wouldn’t dare,” I said. “The grimoire will burn too. You won’t risk your prize.”

  “Gods, you are dumb.” Tanya shook her head. “The book is written in Koro’s blood. It’s protected by his aether. Mage fire can’t hurt it.”

  I glanced back at Quinn. I could shield him for a few moments, but then my body would collapse and burn. And Tanya wouldn’t leave Quinn alive.

  She pressed her hands against my ward. Fire spread over it. A screech like sonic nails across a chalkboard left me clutching my ears. Heat blasted me. Under the mage fire onslaught, the ward turned blue and blurry like an antique glass window. Tiny cracks spread across the glass.

  Tanya snarled and renewed her efforts. The screaming fire filled all my senses, blinding, deafening and scorching. The sensations triggered the last of my blocked memories, and I was suddenly six years old again, standing in the center of a blue firestorm.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Dominion

  MY SISTER’S SCREAMS WOKE ME.

  Our room was filled with smoke, the heat unbearable. A wall of blue fire separated our beds. Bethany pressed against her headboard, clutching her stuffed rabbit. Flames leaped at her like striking snakes.


  I didn’t know what to do. Never in my life had I experienced such crippling fear. Up until now, my worst nightmare had been a splinter Dad removed from my foot. My innocent mind couldn’t wrap itself around the enormity of the danger I faced.

  I couldn’t save Bethany. Only Mom and Dad could do that. Mom and Dad who saved us from every hurt and sickness. They would know what to do. I ran to their room and jerked to a stop at the door. A moment stretched into eternity while I gaped at their bed, now a blue pyre for their blackened bodies.

  “Mom!” I threw myself on the blazing bed, not believing or understanding that they were beyond saving. Not caring if I burned away in the flames.

  But I didn’t. Blue fire rolled over me, tasting my flesh and moving on to more palatable prey. The curtain lit like a wick. I crouched in the center of the room, arms wrapped around my knees, hiding my face.

  Eventually, my sister stopped screaming.

  The fire finally burned down. As the sun rose, two strong hands pulled me from the charred remains of our house.

  The memory hurt like cut glass in my lungs. I didn’t want it, didn’t want the burden it thrust upon me, but I welcomed the knowledge it brought.

  Tanya’s face twisted with demented focus. She glared at me through the cracking ward. Blue fire lashed from her fingertips.

  The hilt of my knife slipped in my sweaty palm. I gripped it, poised for an underhand strike. Tanya took a deep breath, fueling herself for the last blast of aether.

  I let my ward drop.

  Fire blew the hair back from my face and turned the world blue. I plunged my knife into Tanya’s gut, driving it up under her ribs, just as Henry taught me.

  Her lips parted in a silent “Oh!” Surprise doused her spell, and the cave fell into smoky darkness. I stared into her bulging eyes.

  “You forgot, I’m also made with Koro’s blood. Mage fire can’t hurt me.”

  I pulled the knife back, and she slumped to the ground, blood pooling around her. When her eyes turned vacant, I dropped the knife, not bothering to check her pulse. I was done with Tanya and her bizarre crusade. Quinn needed me.

  I fumbled in the backpack for Emmett’s medicine, yanked off the cap and plunged the needle into Quinn’s thigh. He didn’t even flinch.

  Come on, come on.

  His pale face beaded with clammy sweat. I watched in horror as his chest rose and fell, stopped, then shakily rose again.

  Quinn was dying.

  Tears welled in my eyes and I forced them back. I wasted enough time on self-pity, time I could have spent with Quinn. Time I would never get back.

  “I love you.” My fingers grazed over his stubbly chin. He couldn’t hear me, but I didn’t care. I kissed his lips. They were warm and unyielding.

  I loved him. It was that simple. Nothing else mattered. Not Jane’s disapproving looks or the threat of Koro hanging over us. Not even the devastating illness that would take him from me. I loved Quinn and I would lose him. I was still that scared kid, waiting in the dark and knowing no one would come.

  A small hand gripped my shoulder. I turned to see the imp peering at me.

  “Is divine mate dead?”

  Divine mate? Wouldn’t Quinn love that title.

  “Not yet.”

  The imp nodded and scuttled around the cave to Quinn’s other side. It placed two gnarly hands on Quinn’s chest. The snake-like tail slid under the small of his back and wrapped around his stomach.

  “What are you doing?” I tried to yank the tail off, but it hugged Quinn in a vice grip.

  “Please, most holy one. Let me help. I heal, yes?”

  I sat back on my heels. “You can do that?”

  “Perhaps. Most beatific one must be easy now. I will try.”

  The imp’s hands glowed orange, and I felt aether wash over Quinn.

  “Divine mate has illness in every part of his being.” The creature scrunched its snub nose. A pointy tongue poked from the corner of thin lips. Its body shook with some effort I could only guess at. Quinn’s back arched as his muscles seized. Then he lay flat, his breathing calm and even.

  The imp slumped back, its body noticeably shrunken. It looked at me with huge eyes ringed in thick lashes, and I realized it was a female.

  “He will live, for now. But I cannot take away all illness. My healing is not strong enough.”

  I nodded. Quinn rested comfortably. I couldn’t expect more.

  I offered a bottle of water to the imp. She grabbed it, drained the bottle, and wiped a hand across her mouth. The leathery wings perked up.

  “What’s your name?”

  “Trezn Sogb, most supernal one.” She bowed. “It is hard name in this world, yes? It means…” she scrunched her face in concentration, “smelly plant with blades. You would call it Rosie, yes?”

  “Thank you, Rosie. For helping him.”

  She straightened and puffed out her skinny chest. “I serve divine angel. I save her from servant of bad ones.” She pointed to Tanya’s corpse. “Bad servant followed you, most holy angel. And I followed her. I will never let harm come to divine one.”

  Understanding dawned on me. “You’re the one who locked us in the cellar, but why?”

  “Bad servant mustn’t find book written in dark blood.” She scuttled to the grimoire and hefted it onto her shoulders. “Please, we destroy it now, yes?”

  I squeezed her knobby hand with bark-dry skin. “I don’t think we can. It’s immune to mage fire. But I promise we’ll hide it and keep it safe from the bad ones.” She placed the book in my lap with solemn reverence.

  “Why do you keep calling me divine?”

  Rosie’s eyes gleamed with zeal.

  “You are most holy one that my mother spoke of many, many years ago. We are ruled by holy ones…bad holy ones. They eat pain. My pain. Family’s pain. All pain good to bad holy ones. But Mother spoke of great holy ones who live in other worlds. They would come if I prayed. So I prayed. And you, serene one, answered. I smelled your divine blood, most grandest of holy ones.” She sniffed my arm.

  “My blood. You mean my demon blood.” She came through the rift and latched onto me because I smelled familiar.

  “Yes, demons. Divine ones. And you are my blessed one, most sacred of celestial beings. Supernal essence of heart, godliest demon in order of…”

  “Okay, I got it. That’s enough. Just call me Bobbi.”

  “Bobbi?” Her nose crinkled in distaste, curling her upper lip to reveal razor sharp teeth. “As you wish, most divine Bobbi. I serve you, yes?”

  Sigh. I didn’t want a servant.

  “We’ll see. For now, you can help me dig a grave.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Complication

  GAVIN STUDIED THE PEOPLE GATHERED IN JANE’S LIVING ROOM.

  It was too quiet for a space filled with eight witches and one small demon. A fire spat and popped in the hearth adding stuffiness more than warmth. Spell work wasn’t his forte, and Gavin wished he could leave. Jane made it clear that she expected them all to pitch in with this most important and delicate task.

  She sat at the large round table with Myra and Grant, the coven elders. Myra read from the grimoire, turning the ancient pages with care as if they might bite her. Grant’s chin had long since fallen to his chest, and he snored softly. One wisp of hair fluttered around his wrinkled and sun-spotted head. Abilene and Henry took up the seats at the far end of the table. Behind them, Quinn rested on the couch, his head propped in Bobbi’s lap. The imp perched on a stool by Bobbi’s feet, a look of joyful ease on her face. Rosie was one of the many complications caused by recent events.

  Jane’s patch on the rift was a temporary fix at best. The three elder witches had been studying the grimoire for hours, searching for a spell to permanently close it. The book wasn’t giving up its secrets easily.

  Jane sighed and leaned back in her chair.

  “Most of these spells are just triggers.” She took off her glasses and rubbed a hand over her eyes.

>   Advanced witches often hid their most potent spells under other spells, the way old masters painted over canvases. The newer spells acted like keys to reveal the hidden ones. Trigger spells could be nasty pieces of work, and poor execution could leave a witch maimed or dead. They weeded out weak magic users and assured that only a true adept could access the real spells in the grimoire.

  “This could take weeks,” Myra said with pursed lips. She was one of the original Thirteen, the witches who founded the Hidden Coven and built the core. Her mastery over magic was second only to Jane’s. “We need to get more people on it.”

  “No,” Jane said. “The fewer people involved the better. Koro has eyes everywhere, maybe even inside the coven.”

  Gavin felt a sting of guilt. Tanya was his mother’s nurse. They all thought Stacy was insane. She claimed to talk to Koro, and the doctors insisted she only relived months of torture endured over two decades ago. But what if Koro actually was talking to her? Gavin didn’t know what he’d do about that complication. Moving her to another facility wouldn’t help. Maybe it was time to bring Stacy home.

  “None of us will be leaving this room until we at least figure out which spells are triggers,” Jane said.

  Gavin sighed. This was going to be a long night.

  “I’ll make more coffee,” Quinn said. He stood and walked out of the room. Gavin couldn’t help smiling at the way Bobbi’s eyes followed him. It had been a long time coming, but those two had finally reconnected. He tried not to think of the dark cloud on the horizon, the one matching the gray circles under Quinn’s eyes. He barely made it home from their trip into the Adirondacks. From what Gavin could gather, only some healing intervention by the imp kept him alive.