Blood be Damned: Magic Wars (Demons of New Chicago Book 3), page 17
All at once she appeared again. Downstairs. Right outside the wards I’d placed so that no one other than us could enter the building by magic.
“I’m sure she’s fine, Ronan,” Nat said. “They’re off practicing magic. Better way to spend the hours with that one, if you ask me—”
“She what?”
Nat blinked, her expression smoothing. “Piper didn’t tell you?”
“No,” I said in a clipped tone. “She most definitely did not.”
26
We chased storms until my four hours ran out. By the end of it, my body felt languid as if finally exhausted and satisfied, the release of magic similar to a great workout. When Bree took us back to the shop, I gripped her hand more tightly. Extending the moment before I’d reappear.
“Thank you, for today.”
She tensed, the muscles in her hands tightening between my fingers.
“It’s nothing.”
“Maybe not to you,” I said, not letting her sudden coldness deter me. “But I appreciate it all the same.”
She started to pull away, and instead of forcing the moment, I let her go.
My body reappeared and so did hers.
“How do you do that?” I asked.
Bree opened her mouth, but instead of answering, she paused. Her eyes focused on something over my shoulder. Her stance changed, turning from indifferent to defensive. Her spine straightened, and the look in her eyes turned cold.
“Ask me tomorrow,” she said, then disappeared.
I sighed deeply while the shadow at my back quietly seethed. I didn’t have to be bonded to him to know that Ronan was pissed, and I was the cause.
No, the menacing pull of his power spoke for itself.
Still, I jerked when he finally spoke.
“Care to tell me how you ended up on the other side of the world this morning?”
I crossed my arms and pivoted on my heel to face him. However, when I opened my mouth to say Bree took me, the words froze on my tongue.
I couldn’t say that. It would give away, at least in a fraction, one of her abilities.
The stumbled silence fanned the flames of his anger, as he assumed—wrongfully—I was searching for a lie.
“I thought we were past this,” he said quietly. And while he was right, part of me straightened at his comment.
“Past this?” I repeated.
Dark fire grew in his eyes, eclipsing every hint of mercury. “Lying,” he said. “When were you going to tell me you asked Bree to train you how to use your magic?”
“Lying? Like how you failed to mention working with Anders?” I snapped back.
“That’s different and you know it,” Ronan said. “By your own admission he was just someone you worked with, and now he works for me. Bree actively had a hand in the gun—”
“This again?” I lifted both eyebrows. “Last I checked, I can’t very well ask her to move on if I’m not willing to do the same.”
“It’s not the same,” he growled. “Bree is more than capable of hurting you on her own. You’d be near powerless if she tried—”
“Whose fault is that?”
Ronan stared, and I stared back, unflinching.
I opened my mouth, wanting to strike out further, and then snapped it shut as I thought better of it, shuffling forward and trying to step past him. A calloused hand grabbed my arm, trying to halt me.
Annoyance bubbled up, sending a crackle of electricity down my arm.
Ronan jolted, but held firm. His nails sharpening to claws with his own riled frustrations.
“Well, she must not be training you that well if your magic is still lashing out.”
I barked a harsh laugh, grating even to my own ears.
“Today was our first day, but thank you for making me feel like shit over the small bit of progress I made.”
I didn’t look at him, but I sensed the shift as his power banked and recoiled.
“I didn’t mean—”
“You did,” I snapped, this time willing a bolt of blue energy to ripple over my skin. Stronger and hotter than fire. It was enough to make him drop his hand.
Without saying anything else, I stepped into the shop and started for the elevator. Ronan followed closely behind.
“You disappeared. I couldn’t find you. When I realized you were in Africa—”
“That’s a shitty excuse for being an asshole,” I replied, mashing the button for the second floor.
“I couldn’t find you,” he repeated. Ronan’s hand swept out to hit the emergency stop. The elevator jerked to a halt.
My exhale came out as a hissed breath as his arms appeared on either side of me, caging me to the wall. “I shouldn’t have said what I did, but you still didn’t tell me. Not in the greenhouse yesterday, not at dinner, or in bed later that night—”
“I was a bit preoccupied,” I retorted. The feel of lips grazing my neck, followed by the prick of fangs being dragged along my skin made my blood sizzle.
“Were you in the light dimension?” he asked quietly.
I opened my mouth to answer. To say no. But once again, not even a single word would come out. I realized with a frustrated growl that I couldn’t say because if it wasn’t my power that took us there, it was hers.
“I can’t say.”
He froze, his hard chest pressed to my back. “Can’t or won’t?”
“Can’t,” I growled, annoyed at how he still doubted me. “Bree had me make a promise to not reveal any of her abilities.”
I sensed the rising anger once more, but he kept it on a tight leash. “She teleported you there.”
“I can’t answer that.”
“If she hadn’t, you’d have been able to tell me you crossed through the light dimension. I know she can’t use the void. I would have sensed her. Which leaves very few options of teleportation to get you there.”
Instead of repeating myself like a broken record, I stood there in silence. He already knew I couldn’t say. There was nothing to add.
“That was stupid of you to agree to,” he continued.
I turned my cheek to glare at him out of the side of my eye and he nipped me sharply, drawing only a tiny prick of blood. Arousal and anger battled inside me.
“Don’t give me that look.”
“Don’t insult me,” I replied. “I understood her reasons. If for some reason her return to Hell falls through, she doesn’t want another demon having an advantage over her.”
He snorted. “Then why show you her hand?”
My hands clenched into fists at my side. “I don’t know. At the moment I’m assuming it’s because she’s teaching me. If we ever came to blows, she’d have the advantage of knowing my strengths and weaknesses. I’d be powerless, at least in the immediate future, as you so nicely pointed out.” I couldn’t keep the acid out of my voice. That one stung given it was the same word she’d used to convince me to train with her to begin with.
I was a lot of things, but I wouldn’t allow myself to be powerless.
“Which is why it was stupid,” he said again. “I don’t understand why you went to her. If you wanted to learn to control your magic, I would have taught you. If you’d given any indication that you wanted . . .” Ronan shook his head.
Understanding washed over me. What this was about. The anger. The sense of betrayal. Ronan was . . . hurt. That I didn’t go to him. That I didn’t ask.
I wondered if he realized it or if this was one of the first times in his exceptionally long life that he’d felt that.
“I didn’t ask,” I said after a moment. “Not at first, at least. She spent the last week taunting me. Telling me I’m powerless because I have all this magic and don’t know how to use it. Then the mob happened at the market and I froze.” My head dipped in shame. “If they were supes, I wouldn’t have hesitated to shoot, but they weren’t, and I knew I wouldn’t be able to control any fire . . . I was powerless. She was right. So I took her up on it. She’s a rage demon like me, and—”
“—The person who’s helped make magical weapons—”
“—my sister,” I finished. “She’s mean and callous at times, most of them in fact, but I can’t help feeling like she wants to help me. Like she still cares, somewhat.”
“Piper,” he breathed and something featherlight pressed against my hair.
“I know. I know she’s going to choose Hell. She’s got an atman waiting for her. But I think this might be her way of loving me—trying to give me the tools to protect myself.”
Ronan sighed. “You still could have come to me. I might not be a rage demon, but I have rage magic. I’ve trained hundreds of demons across my life. It would be my honor to train you. It should be mine. I told you I want every part.”
I cocked my head and lifted an eyebrow. “Is that your way of asking?” I tried to twist around but his body kept me caged. “If so you’re as bad as she is.”
“I’m not asking. I’m telling. The only reason I didn’t sooner is I didn’t want to push you on that. If you’re going to accept lessons from Bree, though, you’ll be getting them from me as well. I need to make sure she’s actually helping you.”
I rolled my eyes. Only he would make the jump from being hurt to taking control.
Typical.
“Are you done being an alphahole now?”
He chuckled, cool breath fanning that patch of skin below my ear that sent goosebumps rising along my arms.
“Making sure my atma is properly trained is hardly being an alphahole.”
I hummed. “Coming at me with assumptions and insults is.”
“I’m sorry,” he said quietly.
I paused, tilting my head. “I couldn’t hear that. Can you repeat yourself?”
“No,” Ronan said, before biting my neck.
I gasped, my core tightening with delicious heat.
“Are we really doing this here?” I breathed as his length pressed into my ass. Ronan’s fangs released me with a pop. He licked over the tiny incision, doing nothing to sate the budding lust inside me.
“That depends,” he murmured, lips trailing my jaw, “on when you apologize.”
I inhaled indignantly. “Me? Apologize? For what?”
Despite the amused curve of his lips, he was utterly serious when he said, “Trying to run back to Nathalie’s place because we were having a disagreement.”
I narrowed my eyes. “That wasn’t a disagreement. That was you being an ass.”
“Be that as it may, you tried to run. Again. Not even twenty-four hours after agreeing to move in with me. I’ll chase you, Piper. Every time. But I also want you to get to the place where I don’t need to chase.”
I could have lied and said I was planning to visit Nat. But it would have been just that. A lie, like he accused me of from the beginning. The truth was I was fully prepared to march in and tell Nat I needed my room back.
“Old habits die hard,” I said quietly. “This is still new to me. It will take time . . . but I am sorry for jumping to that. Even if you were being an ass.”
Ronan pressed a kiss to my temple, chuckling under his breath.
“I can’t promise I will change. As you say, old habits die hard. But we have all the time in the world—and if that’s what it takes, so be it.”
We didn’t talk after that, but as he took us through the void, directly to our room—something more profound slid into place for me. More permanent.
It wasn’t marked on my skin, but I felt it all the same.
And it scared me.
27
White fire weaved between my fingers in the shape of a dragon. Its long, lithe body rolled over my knuckles with hard-fought concentration. Sweat beaded my brow, but the dragon continued moving—which meant I was winning.
“You’ve come a long way in a short time,” Bree said quietly. She stood a few feet away, leaning against the metal rail. This morning we were practicing in Paris. On the no longer functional Eiffel Tower, to be exact. Bree claimed it was because the air was thinner this high up. That it would provide a greater challenge to me. But I couldn’t help noticing, our lessons were always at beautiful, faraway places that we once talked about visiting as young children. Places on a thirteen-year-old Bree’s bucket list we probably never could have visited. You’d never know the girl that stood before me was the same person, but hints of her were there, her brilliant blue eyes locked on the fire in my hand. “Your control over fire is nearly there. Lightning too.”
“Water and wind could use some work,” I said, not as thrilled with how my progress was there. It had only been a week and a half, but I was impatient. I could separate both elements now, instead of simply summoning a storm. Wind was easier than water. Ronan said fire was less complicated because it was my first element, and the one I would probably always favor. Bree said it was because fire was my crutch.
In their own ways, they were probably both right.
“Earth too,” she added. “You can make it split and quake, but that’s not exactly useful the vast majority of the time.” She waved her hand and slivers of iron lifted away from the tower, gathering in a tiny sphere that orbited before her. It melted and molded, the rumored shine returning once more as she played with it.
“Do you think I’ll also have the affinity for metal?” I mused, watching her manipulate it without much effort.
“Possibly,” she said, still watching it. “A bonded demon’s magic no longer grows, but you don’t know the extent of yours to begin with. To this point, all your powers have manifested as the classical elements, and metals are just chemical elements of the earth.”
She wasn’t completely right, but she also wasn’t wrong. While I was bonded, I did have things outside that spectrum. Things like the light dimension, and the way that my nails would shift. Ronan said it meant I had the ability to shapeshift, but our progress was minimal there at best. Still, he was helping me on those, so I didn't bring them to Bree. Not when she wasn’t honest or upfront with me about herself.
“Most of your powers don’t lie within the elements,” I said.
“That’s not a question,” Bree said, watching the metal flatten and grow prongs. A rose formed at the base. She spun the hair clip with a twirl of her finger, examining every detail and making small adjustments before she finally let it float back and settle into the braided crown around her head.
“How is it that we’re both rage demons and our magic comes from the same place, yet it’s so different?”
“Why are witches different?” Bree said. “Rage is the fuel. It’s what powers us and how we use it. The shape the power takes . . .” She shrugged. “That’s left to chance and personality.”
“So your personality is hard as metal with a penchant for disappearing on people?” I nudged, pushing more than I would have a week ago. Time was running out. While these days were the best I’d ever had with her, with Nat, with Ronan—they were coming to an end. Soon she’d return to Hell, taking any answers to questions I didn’t ask with her.
Bree chuckled. “You never were good at beating around the bush.”
Instead of the coldness I’d been used to, wry amusement flitted over her features.
She settled against the railing overlooking the ruined city. Much like New Chicago, it wasn’t what it once was. War and famine had ravaged here too, made worse by the vampire lord that decided to claim the territory for his own.
“I’m curious. Can you blame me?” I asked. “You came back a demon, one with very different powers than what our run-of-the-mill supes have.”
“Part of that is because I’m not a supe. Part of it is me, and how I got my powers.”
When she didn’t say more, I turned my chin to stare pointedly. She didn’t glance my way or make any movement like she noticed. “I’ll make you a deal,” Bree said, still without looking in my direction. “Tell me what happened when you were in the summoning circle and gained your power, and I’ll tell you how it happened with mine.”
I blinked. “You know what happened.”
“I know you were supposed to be the sacrifice and somehow you took a demon’s power. Tell me more.”
I turned my cheek, staring at the wide blue sky. “I was searching for power as a way to help us. Mom was running ragged from her clients. There were so many times we didn’t know if she’d come home alive. Dad was exhausted and depressed because it was getting harder to protect us. I wanted more for them. For all of us, and I thought magic was the way. It’s what separates humans and supes, after all. I tried to get vampires to turn me. Wolves to bite me. It’s harder than you might think. Those species had issues with turning someone my age. They told me to come back when I was older, but at the time it felt so far away. Then a man named Claude Lewis approached me with an offer I couldn’t refuse. All I had to do was be in the center of a summoning when the demon was called. He said I’d be able to bargain with it.”
“You fell for that?” Bree questioned.
“I was desperate,” I replied. “And while we knew a lot about vampires and shifters and witches—we didn’t know much of anything about demons. There was so few. What I did know was if I were going to get the power I needed—that was my best shot.”
Bree snorted. “It worked.”
“It shouldn't have,” I said quietly. “I didn’t know until after that I was meant to be the sacrifice. During it . . . I was scared, but more than anything I was angry. When my life started draining away, it didn’t take a genius to figure out they’d duped me.” I flexed my hands against the railing before curling them into fists. “My heart started racing. I can still remember the sound of my pulse as it drummed in my ears. After everything we'd been through and everything I’d done to change our lives, I was pissed that it was going to end that way. Then I felt her.”
“Who?”
“Aeshma,” I breathed her name, and it sounded almost as familiar as my own. “She felt my rage, and I felt hers. She was still coming into this world when we collided. By using my life force to power the portal, they made me the first point of contact—not them. That was their mistake. I don’t know how, but I know that’s the reason I absorbed her.”
