Magic Hunter: An Urban Fantasy Novel (The Vampire's Mage Series Book 1) (16 page)

A
banging noise
jolted her from her sleep, and she sat up.

“Rosalind.” Caine shouted through the dark, his voice urgent.

She threw the covers off, suddenly alert, and jumped out of bed. “What’s going on? What time is it?”

He sparked the candles, and for a moment, his eyes trailed over her bare legs. “Bileth is near, and you need to leave before he finds you.”

Her pulse raced. “Where is he?”

“He’s a few streets away. The house is invisible to him, but he’s scented us somehow.”

“What time is it?”

“Nearly ten at night. You slept for fourteen hours.” He was dressed for battle—sleek, black clothes, dark armor over his chest, and a sword slung over his back. Smaller blades glinted from holsters strapped to his legs and arms.

She crossed to the window, pulling aside the curtain. Moonlight glinted off the harbor.

“Can he get in here?” she asked.

“No, but if he figures out where the house is, he can draw us out with fire. I’m going out to speak to him, but I want you to get out of here with the other girls.”

Something about his phrasing irked her.
Get out of here with the girls.
“I’m a trained fighter, you know. I don’t need to run away from demons.”

He stared at her in disbelief. “You’re the one he’s hunting. If he gets anywhere near you, he’ll torture you to death. I need to keep him as far away from you as possible. He’ll forget about you eventually, but right now he wants to impale you. Repeatedly.”

Even though her vision of stabbing Caine had only been a nightmare, guilt still weighed heavily on her, crushing her chest like a load of rocks. On top of that, she was starting to feel strangely protective of the incubus. “I’ll hang in the shadows or in the house, but I’m not leaving you alone. You were too closely matched last time for me to feel good about it. I’ll only step in if I think you’re about to die.”

He inhaled deeply before handing her a knife. “Fine, but you must promise to stay inside. I’m still hoping to fix this with diplomacy.” He eyed her carefully. “What, exactly, do you know about high demons?”

Hardly anything.
When encountering a high demon, novices were just supposed to run. “I know they’re immortal. Speaking of which, can I have more blades? I don’t feel like one is enough.”

He pulled two more daggers from his holsters, and a thin stiletto. “There are ways of killing them, but the weapons need to be charmed. To deliver a death blow, you need to be a powerful mage. I fit the criteria, but let’s hope it doesn’t come down to that. If we killed Bileth, we’d have far worse problems than the Brotherhood.”

“You mean we might have eighty legions of demons hunting us.”

“Precisely.” His eyes trailed up her legs again, lingering on her tiny black underwear. “As much as it pains me to say it, you should probably put on some clothes.”

“Oh.” She hurried over to her pile of clothes, slipping into her pants and boots. She slid two of the blades into her boots, and the stiletto into her belt. “Where are Tammi and Aurora going?”

“They’re taking a boat to Great Misery Island. I know a sorceress there who is quite fond of me. She should be able to keep them hidden for now.”

Footsteps pounded up the stairs, and within seconds, Tammi’s flushed face was in the door. “Rosalind. Let’s go. We’re taking a sailboat from the dock.”

She shook her head. “I’m staying here. Caine might need me.”

Tammi’s face blanched. “Are you high? I haven’t heard such a terrible idea come out of your mouth since you decided to dress as a slutty sheep for Halloween.”

Rosalind scowled. “You already know I hunt demons. Why is this surprising?”

Tammi stared, her voice incredulous. “You hunted pixies who screwed up the plumbing.”

“Is that true?” Caine arched an eyebrow. “And the slutty sheep outfit, too?”

Rosalind looked between them, her resolve growing. She projected her voice, imbuing it with as much authority as she could. “I’m not going to argue with you two. I’m staying. I’m the one who caused this situation, and I’m not letting Caine take the fall for it by himself. And then I’m going to help tackle the Brotherhood. Got it?”

Caine glanced at Tammi. “We’ll meet you on the island. Aurora knows the way.”

Tammi pointed at him, scowling. “You make sure Little Ho Peep comes back in one piece.” She turned and hurried down the hall.

Caine approached Rosalind, standing so close she could feel the heat coming off his skin. He brushed his knuckles against her cheek, studying her face. “You’re brave for a noble-born girl, but please stay in the house. You have a tendency to screw everything up by making stupid decisions. I’m even firmer in that belief now that I’ve heard about the slutty sheep costume.”

She tightened her fist around the knife hilt. “You need to stop talking or I’ll stab you with one of your own weapons.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time. Would you heal me again?”

A deep, rumbling noise resonated through the house, shaking the walls and rattling the windowpanes.

“He’s outside,” Caine said. “I’m going. Please stay in here.” He wrapped his fingers around her knife-holding hand. “If he gets past me somehow, use this.”

He turned, stalking down the hall, moving silently as the wind through the trees.

She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath and trying not to think of her nightmares.
I can’t dwell on my worst fears.

She stepped into the hall and peered out the window, staring at the moonlit street outside Caine’s house. Mounted on an ivory horse—just like in her dream—Bileth strode into a streetlight. Tendrils of his red aura curled off his skin like smoke. His steed’s eyes blazed red, hooves clopping slowly over the pavement. He carried a scythe slung over his enormous, bare back. Curling tattoos covered his pale, muscular body, and horns swooped back from his forehead. She almost thought she heard the low rumble of a drum…

At the sight of him, fear stole her breath.

Caine pushed open the front door and strode toward the high demon. Bileth halted and dismounted, nostrils flaring. When the demon’s feet landed on the pavement, the ground trembled, and shock waves shuddered through the earth.

Caine held up his hands, as if trying to placate Bileth, but the high demon pulled his scythe from his back before charging. Bileth swung, but Caine lifted his forearm, blocking the attack. In a blur of movement— so fast Rosalind’s eyes could barely track it—Caine maneuvered behind Bileth, pinning the demon’s arm behind his back. As Caine pushed Bileth’s neck down, forcing him lower, the high demon lost his grip on the scythe. Caine leaned into him, whispering in his ear, no doubt trying to placate him with promises of submissive courtesans.

But Rosalind knew what the high demon really wanted. He wanted
her.

Bileth’s body vibrated with fury, skin blazing bright red with his aura. When he flung out his arms, he threw Caine back in a blast of magic. The incubus landed hard on the pavement; in the next instant, he was on his feet again, his silvery aura whirling around him.

What the hell is he supposed to do?
He was clearly the stronger fighter, but he couldn’t kill Bileth, which meant he was at a severe disadvantage. Diplomacy clearly was not on the table, and neither was an all-out battle with Nyxobas’s crony.

Bileth snatched his scythe from the ground, and Caine slid his sword from his scabbard, blocking another swing. The two demons whirled and parried in an intense blur of movement, their blows ringing out into the air. Metal sparked in the night air.

Bileth’s aura burned hot around him, and he intoned a spell. His voice rang through the air like the knell of a hundred discordant church bells. As he spoke, Caine’s spine arched, and his body lifted into the air, suspended in apparent agony. Caine dropped his sword, and a look of intense pain contorted his beautiful features. His eyes turned black as pitch while his primal instincts took over.

Bileth was torturing him. Caine’s fingers curled, his body shaking.

Horror spread through her. This was her fault, and she needed to help him. Clutching the iron blade, she sprinted through the hallway, thundering down the stairs. She had no plan beyond ripping Bileth’s attention away from Caine, and her seething fury leant her courage. She slammed through the front door, heart pounding.

Bileth whirled, locking his red eyes on her.

“Bileth,” she said. “I think you were looking for me. What the fuck do you want?”

His lips curled in something like a smile, and he beckoned her closer with a long, taloned finger. She gritted her teeth, but his noxious red aura seeped into her body, infecting her limbs. She clamped her eyes shut, imagining a clear sphere that forced out the red tendrils. Her pulse raced with the effort. When she’d pushed his magic out, she threw the knife.

The blade pierced Bileth’s shoulder. He roared, and the sound slid through her bones. In the next instant, his hands were around her throat, pressing hard on her airway. In about six seconds, her neck would be crushed. “You filthy, human animal. You were born to serve,” he whispered.

Panicking, she strained her foot up until she could yank a knife from her boot. She slammed it hard into his arm, and he lurched back, roaring. She reached for the other knife, ripping it from her boot.

A burst of powerful magic from Bileth surged through her veins, overtaking her. It seeped into her limbs, claiming territory in her muscles too fast for her to block it out. Her stomach churned as Bileth compelled her to stalk over to Caine.

Caine’s large eyes landed on her, black as smoke from a funeral pyre. Her heart squeezed in her chest. Bileth would force her stab Caine.

This is my nightmare come true. I’m going to murder him.

Her arm reared back, ready to plunge the knife into Caine’s neck, and dread ripped her apart.

Caine’s silver aura exploded from his body, and in the next second his hand darted out to grab her arm, lightning fast. He tightened his fingers around her wrist until she dropped the knife, and pulled her closer, slipping the iron ring from her finger.

Power bloomed in her body as her mage took over. Caine chanted an ancient spell, and something in her mind recognized the words: a spell for traveling. Instantly, she joined in, the familiar Angelic words tumbling from her lips. As they spoke, their bodies glowed with a protective light—a thick, vernal aura that rushed over her skin, whirling around the pair like a storm wind.

At the spell’s completion, mist surrounded them, and Caine slipped the ring onto her finger again. His arms encircled her protectively, his heart pounding hard against her chest.

Where were they? She didn’t want to utter a word in case Bileth still lurked nearby, but when the air thinned, she found herself looking at a thick grove of firs. This wasn’t Salem.

Rosalind let out a long, slow breath as relief flooded her. “Where are we?” she whispered. Caine’s body was a beacon of warmth in the cool forest, but she forced herself to step out of his embrace.

He smiled. “Great Misery Island. You do realize we just performed a powerful spell together? Our auras mingled beautifully.”

Her head throbbed. “You mean, your aura mingled with Cleo’s perfectly.”

“Either way, I couldn’t have done it without you,” he said.

In the chilly sea air, she hugged herself. “I didn’t feel the flames. The mage seemed more focused.”

“I was with you the whole time. And Cleo must have known it was life or death. Maybe she hates you, but she doesn’t want her host’s body to die. Especially not before she got a chance to get her hands on me.”

Rosalind studied him. “Were you pinioned by Bileth’s magic the whole time? It seems awfully convenient that you only broke free at the last second when I was about to stab you.”

“I let Bileth torture me,” Caine said. “He wanted revenge, so I let him have some. And I wanted to see what you would do. I would have stepped in if it seemed like you were about to die.”

“Seven hells, Caine. He practically murdered me.”

“I did tell you to stay in the house. If you were a foot soldier in the army I commanded, I’d have to punish you.”

She forced
that
image out of her mind. “You’re not my commanding officer, and I don’t foresee that happening. We’ve already established I can take you in a fight. But maybe you should find some courtesans for Bileth so he’ll leave us alone. Perhaps you could glamour yourself to look like a beautiful, submissive woman and tend to his needs. I hear you’re an expert in the seductive arts.”

He grimaced. “Ugh. That sort of comment would get you a severe punishment if you were my foot soldier.”

“Stop with the punishment thing. You like that idea a little too much.”

“Right.” He turned, trudging through the thick undergrowth. “We need to keep going. We must find Tammi and Aurora. Omerelle lives somewhere nearby, and they may arrive soon.”

She followed him, snapping over twigs. “Omerelle? Who is this woman?”

“She’s a mage. She’s quite lonely out here. Her husband died a few years ago, and I keep her company sometimes. She’ll probably be thrilled at the visit.”

Rosalind didn’t want to think about what sort of “company” he provided.

Lilu circled over their heads, fluttering through oak leaves. Streams of cold moonlight pierced the canopy, and a cool breeze kissed her skin. A heavy scent of brine, moss, and oak leaves hung in the damp air. She could envision herself living out here in the wilderness, lulled to sleep every night by the gentle sounds of the waves against the shore, and the wind rustling the trees.

“Rosalind,” Caine said. “There’s something I have to ask you.”

His grave tone had her full attention. “Yes?”

“You said you remember my eyes from your childhood. Do you remember anyone else?”

“No. Just you, and glimmers of the sea and of flowers. And—weirdly—I remember seeing my own face a lot. When I told Tammi that, she thought I must be a narcissist.”

Caine paused, lightly touching her arm. “That wasn’t your face.”

His words made her stomach swoop. “What do you mean?”

He inhaled sharply. “That was Miranda.”