vampires mage 02 - witch hunter (3 page)

She paged ahead, her heart speeding up at the word
demon.

In 1693, a bestial demon known as the Ravener slipped through the city gates, his mind twisted by hatred of humankind. With the most evil intentions, he infiltrated the Throcknell Fortress, then slaughtered fair and noble Queen Sapphira, tossing her out a tower window. The Ravener ripped apart the castle, intent on regicide, until he found King Malchior and tore his heart from his chest. His terrible deed committed, the Ravener slipped from the city gates—

A hand yanked the book from her grasp, and she stared up into Orcus’s cold, dark eyes.

Her cheeks burned with irritation. “I was reading that.”

He turned, hurrying to the fireplace, and she gaped as he tossed the book into the flames. “
That,
little girl, will only feed your nightmares.”

“I can decide what will give me nightmares.” She glared at him. He was awfully preoccupied with her nightmares. “What don’t you want me to read? Drew already told me about the Ravener.”

Orcus furrowed his brow, pulling up his black hood over his head. “You don’t know much, and that’s the way it should be.”

Anger simmered.
Don’t trust anyone, Rosalind.
“Why is everyone so intent on hiding things from me?”

Orcus shook his head. “You’re paranoid, Rosalind. You’re not thinking right. You look like a crazy woman. Get some sleep before the nightmares fill your waking life.”

Dark, acrid smoke swirled from the flames, and the room slowly filled with the scent of burning paper.

“I’m not paranoid.” She cocked a hip. “You just burned a book to stop me from reading. I think my suspicions are justified.”

“Let me make you a tonic to help—”

“I don’t want a sleep tonic.” Her pulse raced, and sweat beaded on her brow. “I want to search the streets for my sister. I swear I’ve felt her aura, and I can feel all kinds of powerful magic around us. And I want to hunt down Randolph Loring, beat him until he screams for mercy, and chain him to the walls of one of his prisons. I want to find out what Drew meant when he said the air was thick with menace.” She could feel it, too—and it was starting to make her sick. She leaned over and retched.

“What’s the matter with you? Never mind. I’ll tell you what’s the matter—all that coffee rotted your gut.”

She retched again, clutching her stomach. This wasn’t just nausea. There was something
familiar
about this sensation. The last time she’d felt this sick was when she’d first visited Lilinor. That feeling had been the magic at the boundaries—shadow magic and light magic magnetically attracted to each other.

“Hang on a sec, Orcus.” She blinked, letting her eyes focus in the dim light as a shudder wracked her body. Thick tendrils of magic stained the air—pale shimmering copper, deep sea-green, dark silver. A whole rainbow of light and dark colors.
Why didn’t I notice it before?
It was almost as if shadow magic and light magic were warring with each other, trying to cancel each other out, and she couldn’t see them unless she concentrated.

Orcus tutted. “Are you going to stand there all night making those gagging noises?”

“Orcus. There’s magic all around us—light and dark forces together. It’s astoundingly powerful.”

He sniffed. “What on earth are you talking about?”

“There’s silver night magic, like Caine’s, moving over my skin like a warm wind. Miranda’s sea magic—salty and wet on my skin. But it’s not just light magic. There’s gold, copper, and pale gray.”

“Light demons.” A wicked glee tinged his voice.

She shook her head, trying to understand. “Why would light magic merge with shadow magic? I thought there was some kind of ancient war going on between those two.”

“There is. And perhaps they’re waging a battle now. I have no idea.” He scowled, pacing across the floor. “If the reapers are fighting a battle with hellhounds, I should be there. They will need me to fight with them.”

“We should both go.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he scoffed.

“You can’t leave me here unguarded. The Brotherhood could come in and kidnap me, and then Caine will be furious.”

His nostrils flared. “Why would you
want
to go? You’re no match for true demons.”

“I can sense Miranda’s aura. I don’t know if she’s in trouble, or if she’s working with the Brotherhood—but either way, I need to find her.”

Orcus straightened. “Fine. But you must stay near me. Caine will murder me if you get hurt.”

Relief washed over Rosalind. “I’ll stay near you. I promise.”

Orcus cast a critical eye over her clothing. “You’re going to wear
that?”

She glanced down at herself, at her faded black T-shirt and coffee-stained jeans. She hadn’t exactly been thinking about things like fashion lately, nor did she care to start now. “You’re wearing a hooded cloak. I don’t think you’re in a position to judge.”

“I suppose we’ll be invisible anyway.” He narrowed his dark eyes. “Another reason for you to stay close to me. The invisibility spell wears off after a while.” His long teeth glinted in the firelight. “And if we come across any light demons, let me do the killing.”

“I won’t get in your way.” She frowned. “But you don’t have any idea what we’re getting into?”

“No.” He stepped closer, thrusting a bony finger in her face. “But I’ll tell you this. You don’t need to read the books about the Ravener and his murders four centuries ago. There are plenty of monsters around us now to fill your nightmares for a hundred years. And you’ll see some of them tonight. That’s why little girls like you get locked up for safety. Are you sure you want to go out there?”

Despite the fire, a shiver ran over her skin. “Miranda’s out there. She’s not exactly sane anymore, and she’s in over her head.”

“I thought she tried to kill you. What do you care?”

“It’s the Brotherhood’s fault she’s crazy. Like you said, there are monsters all around us. Even the human ones.”

Wordlessly, Orcus pulled a scroll from his cloak and unrolled it. Rosalind caught a glimpse of a circle, with a six pointed figure in the center.
The sigil?

She frowned, trying to see it better, but Orcus blew on it, and it disappeared in a puff of black ash. “What was that symbol?” she asked.

“The symbol of Azazeyl. Why Caine used that, I have no idea.”

“Who is Azazeyl?”

“A false god. He does not exist.”

And yet, the magic worked.
A sharp tendril of dread wound through her. There was something very strange going on.

What she didn’t say to Orcus was that she had another reason for wanting to leave the cemetery: she wanted to know what the hell had happened to Tammi, too, because she wasn’t buying this safe house story.

And right now, Rosalind didn’t trust anyone.

Chapter 3

T  he night air was thick with the sweet scent of blooming linden trees and the overgrown honeysuckle that climbed the sides of Brattle Street’s Victorian homes.

In front of the moon, shadow magic and light magic swirled in large curls. The magic was all around, rippling over Rosalind’s skin, disorienting her—silver, green, gold, copper, blue… too many colors and senses for her to keep track of. Dizzy, she rubbed her forehead.

Orcus trudged along a few paces in front of her. With the invisibility spell in effect, she couldn’t see his body—only the curls of midnight blue magic emanating from his cloak. If she concentrated, she could follow his anise-scented magical aura. And if that wasn’t enough, the sound of his wooden-soled shoes on the bricks was easy enough to follow.

Someone should tell that guy to purchase a pair of Keds if he really wants to go incognito.

She studied each pedestrian they passed, looking for signs of panic, but she could read nothing amiss on their faces. If there was a demonic war raging nearby, none of them seemed to know about it. A car rolled slowly by, blaring bass-heavy music, with the sharp scent of marijuana wafting from the windows.
Business as usual here, no signs of impending doom.
But none of these people could see the magic that whipped the air around them.

As Rosalind drew closer to Harvard Square, her entire body buzzed with apprehension. A wave of sickness climbed up her throat, and she turned to retch. The closer they got to the Brotherhood’s home base, the worse she felt.

“Is that you making that noise again?” Orcus grumbled.

“I’m fine,” she managed, her gaze landing on a tendril of blue magic. It undulated in the air like a sea-anemone, washing over her skin. “I think Miranda is near, but there are so many auras around. I can’t figure out what’s going on.” She wiped a hand against the back of her mouth.

Her body buzzed, and she looked down. There was a reason she was feeling so sick—the magical auras were no longer just curling around her—some of them were rushing into her body in waves. She clamped her eyes shut, trying to force them out of her. As the magic thrummed over her skin, dipping into her bones, she felt an overwhelming desire to turn back.

I need to get control of this.
She wouldn’t be very effective at pulling Miranda away from the Brotherhood if she was too busy puking in the bushes.

Slowing her breathing, she concentrated on forcing the magic into smaller whorls, compressing it down as best she could.

“Are you coming, or do you want to run home?” Orcus snapped, tapping his foot on the ground. “If you’re going back to the cemetery, you should know that you won’t be able to get into the mansion. You’ll have to wait outside in the bushes.”

If she hadn’t felt so sick, she would have had a witty retort at the tip of her tongue—but instead all she managed was, “Stop haranguing me. I’m not running back to the cemet—”

She was interrupted by the sound of metal slamming against metal, followed by shattering glass. From Harvard Square, screams pierced the air—distinctly human.

It’s starting.

At the sound of human terror, Rosalind pushed all her reservations aside. “Let’s go.” She broke into a run, Orcus’s footsteps keeping pace beside her.

Her heart pounded in her chest like a war drum.
If things get really messy, I’ll have to rely on the magic of my extra soul.
Granted, the Brotherhood had taught her to fight without magic—to use the environment around her as her tools instead of spells and auras—but she was quickly coming to understand that rocks and broken bottles were poor weapons in a demon war.

If things got really messy, she might need the nuclear option: Cleo.

Pumping her arms, she picked up her pace. She had no clue what she was heading toward, but she was nearly certain Miranda was part of it.
I just have no idea what role she’s playing in this battle.
If she had to guess, her twin sister had become a pawn of the Brotherhood.

Her feet hammered the pavement, and she gasped as a wave of cold, nocturnal power slammed into her—silver, just like Caine’s.
He’s nearby.

Her breath was ragged in her lungs as they rounded the corner and came into Harvard Square.

The scene before her was chaos. The first thing she saw was the car accident. An SUV had plowed into a Porsche, and the sports car’s driver lay slumped over the wheel, forehead bleeding. A few people ran into the road, eyes wide.

The next thing she noticed was the street performer dressed as a mime, standing still on a platform, his body trembling as he gripped two flaming sticks. He wasn’t looking at the accident. He was staring up at the sky, eyes bulging.

He unleashed a horrified scream.

Rosalind followed his gaze, and a wave of cold fear washed over her.

A swarm of demons flew above, with eyes the color of starlight and flowing white hair to match. They wore ragged black dresses that fluttered in the wind as they wove and darted like birds of prey. Panic tightened around her heart. It looked like something from an apocalyptic painting, and a demon horde like this meant only one thing: a lot of people were about to die.

A driver leaned on his horn, desperate to flee the intersection, but the accident blocked his path. All around, pedestrians were running, screams piercing the air.

A middle-aged woman stepped from the damaged SUV, her eyes wide. “What are those things?” she shrieked.

As Rosalind looked up again at the black-winged creatures circling the air above them, the air left her lungs. So many different shades of magic whirled around them, a type of power she’d never seen before. They beat their wings, weaving through the sky, crowded so thick and vast they blocked the moonlight.

By their starlit eyes and white hair, she was pretty sure she knew what they were, even before Orcus spoke.
Night demons.

“Keres,” Orcus said, as if hearing her thoughts. “Nyxobas’s creatures. What are they doing here, by the Chambers? We’re only a hundred feet from the Brotherhood’s headquarters. Keres don’t normally venture out of their caves unless cloaked in shadows.”

She swallowed hard. “It’s probably an attack on the Brotherhood.”

Swooping lower, a female ker smiled, her long teeth glinting in the moonlight. Rosalind’s mouth went dry. Despite her beautiful face, her skin the color of pearls, the ker oozed pure menace—and she looked hungry.

Rosalind stepped closer to Orcus. “I don’t understand what’s happening. There’s so much magic around the keres. There’s coppery mountain magic, Miranda’s sea magic… all kinds of auras.”

“Someone must be fighting them. It’s not working very well. They must have some sort of shield around them.”

She narrowed her eyes, looking for signs of weakness. A few keres seemed to shudder, their wings drooping and heads lolling, and they fell from the skies. Someone was fighting them, but the counterattack wasn’t having much of an effect on the swarm as a whole.

Her gaze darted to a black bird flying among the keres—a raven, darting between the demons.
Caine’s familiar.
Her chest tightened. “Caine is definitely here. And I want to find him.”

“I thought he was in Lilinor,” Orcus growled. “You’re sure it’s him?”