Burnt Magic, page 9
We had to hurry, for both our sakes.
Leading the way, I carried Fleur down the rest of the corridor and up another flight of stairs, Katrina following quickly at my heels. Thankfully, we didn’t pass any more guards, even when we reached the first level where the stone walls became intricate, moody wallpaper and the torch brackets became ornate sconces. The kitchens weren’t far, and we reached them in less than ten minutes.
Unfortunately, the kitchens were always busy—with meals being prepared for the human staff of the palace, along with blood for the residents, guests, and guards. The moment we stepped foot inside, every person working inside turned to look at us.
Katrina was ready, ice already dancing at her fingertips. She shot her magic, and chunky blocks of ice crystalized over every exit, trapping the staff in the room with us. My voice was calm, soothing, as I spoke, channeling compulsion into it.
“You will pretend as if you haven’t seen us here and forget us as soon as we leave.”
Every gaze immediately fell back to what they had been doing before. As we made our way hurriedly through the kitchen, inching around bustling cooks and servants fetching supplies for routine cleaning duties, I came to a stop in front of a large, familiar stainless-steel fridge.
I’d come here many times... before.
When I’d been one of Nolan’s lackeys, when I’d tortured vampriches for information in the very cells we’d just been held in. I’d watched them succumb to the lace root, like I had, watched them squirm and break and beg for the blood I held, dangling it just out of their reach...
I swallowed hard, burying the fuzzy human memory from my late childhood. Behind us was a large stainless-streel counter littered with ingredients and cooking utensils. I turned my head and spoke to the nearest servant that passed us.
“Clear this off for us.”
They obliged, and after a few moments, I was able to place Fleur down on the cold counter, laying her as gently as possible.
Turning back to the fridge, I pulled the door open, taking a moment to observe the rows and rows of organized blood bags stored within, labeled human and vampire. My restraint teetered for just a moment as I had the fleeting urge to devour every single bag in front of me. The unhinged craving startled me.
Reaching for one, I quickly twisted the cap and brought it to my lips, downing the contents. Relief and bliss flooded through me as sweet blood finally coated my tongue, my throat, quenching the unbearable thirst and ache.
Out of the corner of my eye, Katrina reached for another, and for a moment I wasn’t sure what she was doing. But when she turned toward Fleur, every single part of my body turned to fire as something savage and feral ripped through me. My teeth ripped from the blood bag, and I snarled.
“Don’t you dare!”
She froze, eyes wide, nearly dropping the bag. I sidestepped toward Fleur, blocking her access.
No.
It was irrational, stupid, I know, but... nobody else’s blood.
She was mine.
I quickly finished draining the blood bag, a guttural moan escaping at the satisfaction, and I cleared my throat quickly. I hadn’t meant to do that. Katrina shifted uncomfortably beside me, but I had to give her credit. She didn’t run, and she didn’t look like she was going to any time soon. She eyed her clothes and sniffed, her nose wrinkling, then turned away from me. Spotting one of the female staff who was carrying a basket of vegetables to a chopping board, she reached over and tugged on her sleeve.
“Give me your dress,” she ordered, and the woman threw a startled look at the two of us. She wasn’t compelled to obey Katrina, I quickly realized. While I felt sorry for the woman... Katrina truly did reek, and that was partially my fault. At least Fleur and I had had the option of using a corner of our cell to... relieve ourselves. A memory I’d rather forget, if I ever could.
“Do as she says, then excuse yourself to re-dress in your quarters,” I ordered, pushing compulsion into the order, and the woman dropped the basket to start peeling off her dress. Katrina quickly shimmied out of her own clothes, eager to trade, and I averted my eyes, turning back to Fleur.
The moment I cast my gaze on her, a pang of panic went through me—she looked even paler now.
Wasting no time, I rounded the counter, sourcing a clean knife from a knife block and made a quick, deep cut across my hand. The pain barely registered, and I was back at her side in seconds, placing the hand to her lips as I brushed her hair from her face.
There was no way in hell I was losing her.
“Don’t die on me, Fontaine,” I muttered, using my other hand to tilt her head up so she could swallow better. It was common knowledge that vampire blood had curative properties on both vampires and humans. But I’d never tried to heal anybody yet, nor was I sure it would even work on a succubus.
Still, I had to try.
My blood brushed against her pale lips, smearing. I’m sure I didn’t look much better. Pressing firmer, I managed to nudge her lips apart, letting the blood trickle into her mouth.
Holding her as steady as possible, I waited. I didn’t want her to choke, but if she didn’t drink from me... well, we hadn’t both narrowly escaped death just so that she could die like this.
A few minutes passed where I held my breath. At long last, she stirred momentarily, a small moan escaping her throat, and her hand reached up to grip my arm weakly. I felt her warm tongue against the fresh cut and my breath hitched as she began to drink, taking a few small gulps.
Thank fuck.
“That’s it,” I breathed softly, keeping my arm steady so that she had something to hold on to. Her weight was still heavy, her eyes still closed, but she moaned again. It occurred to me all of a sudden that they might not be moans of pain. That her moans might be pleasure from the anesthetic effect of my blood. The sound of her stirred something primal in me—at the thought of her desiring me like this— and it took all my willpower to keep myself in check.
When she shifted her other arm within her sling, I realized her broken bones must have mended, along with whatever else her body was healing. Bringing her back from the brink of death.
Finally, she ceased drinking, her hand slumping back down to her side, and she didn’t move again. Still holding her steady, I tucked her head against my chest as I gathered her back into my arms, the cut on my hand already healing.
Her body clearly needed the rest, and I didn’t want to wake her again until she was ready.
“Satisfied?” Katrina asked from beside me—now wearing the woman’s dress, which drooped around her arms and hung loose on her body. She’d cut holes in the back with a knife to allow room for her delicate wings to poke through. The woman, on the other hand, had vanished from sight, and I realized she must be wandering the halls outside, stark naked.
A realization I had a moment too late.
Before I even had a chance to respond, I heard a shout from the corridors outside, and my eyes widened.
“Time to go,” I said quickly. Holding Fleur tight, I led the way as we raced farther back through the kitchens, slipping through the pantry, which contained rows and rows of canned beans, legumes, rice, pasta, and countless other shelf products.
My gaze scanned the wall at the back of the pantry quickly for the familiar, slightly odd-shaped stone. As soon as I spotted it, I kicked it with my foot, and the wall groaned as it slid open at a snail’s pace.
I strained to listen, glancing quickly over my shoulder, terrified the sound of the door opening had already given us away, but it didn’t sound like the guards had even reached the kitchens yet. As soon as we were able to slip through the door, we raced into the cold, dark tunnels and didn’t dare look back.
It was some time before we felt safe enough to slow to a walk. Being fae, Katrina had shown no trouble keeping up with me—aside from the oversized dress tangling around her ankles every now and then. She wasn’t anywhere near as fast, but she had more stamina and grace than humans did.
“Where does this tunnel lead again?” Katrina asked as we set a new, slower pace.
“To a river, a few miles from north of here. It’s a bit of a turnaround, but we can get back to the main road from there and head back to Monsec,” I replied, glancing down to observe Fleur’s still-sleeping form in the darkness.
She looked so serene, so content in my arms... unlike earlier, when she’d thrown up her walls and shut me out. A stab of guilt filled my gut. I didn’t know how I was ever going to earn back her trust. I thought she’d understand that I’d only been trying to protect her... that I hadn’t actually intended her any harm...
My only regret was that I’d caused her more confusion, more suffering. But I didn’t regret pretending to turn on her—it wouldn’t have done us any good to both have been thrown in cells from the beginning. And Fleur never stood a chance of winning Nolan’s trust, whereas I had.
Too bad he still hated me as much as he had before—now, he just had a better reason to kill me.
Returning my focus to Katrina as we walked, my gaze lingered on the sharp points of her ears.
“So... we never really got a chance to talk about the fact that you’re a fae, Katrina.”
She glanced back at me with a scowl.
“Well, it wasn’t really any of your business, was it?” she replied pointedly, folding her arms. “At least, not until... all of this...”
Did you know?” I asked. “While inside the painting, that is.”
“Of course I knew,” she replied, rolling her eyes. “I just didn’t go parading my true self around to everyone. Much like yourself and Fleur, it seems.”
I shook my head, still amazed. I’d never met a fae before—and to be honest, never thought I ever would. The fae didn’t tend to come to the human world much anymore, and when they did, they were certainly discreet about it.
“How did you even end up in Monsec, Katrina? Aren’t your kind from another realm?”
She sighed, averting her gaze for a moment, as if debating how to answer. Finally, she looked me in the eye.
“My name isn’t Katrina,” she said, and I frowned. “It’s Leira. Katrina is my changeling. That’s why I’m here, and that’s all you need to know.”
A changeling?
“Hold on,” I said quickly, shaking my head. “Isn’t that an uncommon practice these days? I thought your kind stopped doing that centuries ago?”
“You’re right,” Katrina—no, Leira, agreed, nodding. “Our older generations used to do it to rid their bloodlines of sickly or deformed offspring. Thankfully, we’ve grown more... civil. I guess it’s something our worlds have in common.”
I did remember reading that somewhere. It had made my stomach roll the first time—but hearing Leira confirm it was somewhat worse.
“Then why are you here?” I asked, and Leira glared at me.
“It’s none of your business,” she repeated coldly. “Perhaps instead of prying, you could thank me, since I did just assist you in escaping that wretched place.”
“It was a group effort,” I replied carefully. “You were a prisoner just as much as we were.”
“But I didn’t have to help you,” she insisted, narrowing her gaze. I knew what she was trying to do though.
“No, you didn’t,” I replied coolly, studying her reaction. Her lips pulled into a thin line, and she lifted her chin at me.
“Look, I need to go home,” she said quickly, walking a few paces ahead of me now as she spoke. “I was in that stupid painting for too long. I should have been reclaimed by now—no doubt my family is looking for me. You both have my thanks for freeing me from that Monsec prison, but I won’t be returning there with you.”
“You’re not coming back to Monsec with us?” I asked. Not that I’d properly discussed it yet with Fleur, but I figured it would be our next step. We couldn’t just leave everyone we knew and loved stuck in that painting.
“I trust my debt to you is repaid with my assistance getting us out of your uncle’s palace earlier? So I’ll be opening a portal home.”
There it was. The fae were bound by debts and favors—and we’d helped her escape Monsec. In return, she’d helped us escape Nolan. Now, from the way Leira was desperately eyeing me— almost like she was waiting for something—I could tell she needed us to acknowledge that the debt had been repaid before she could walk away from us without consequence.
I kept my lips firmly zipped. There was no way she was hearing the words thank you from me until we’d gotten our friends and my father out of that cursed painting. Was I overextending her debt? Probably. But I was desperate for her help—I had no clue how we were going to go back into that painting without ending up as trapped and clueless as we had been before.
“You’re not going anywhere yet,” I replied firmly, speeding up to walk alongside her again. “You can’t just leave. The moment we go back into that painting, we’ll forget everything again. We need a way to break the spell.”
“Even if I could help you with that, a spell like that won’t break from the outside,” Leira countered, coming to a stop and planting her hands on her hips. “You don’t have a choice but to go back in there. And as far as I can tell, there’s no way to preserve your memories once you go back.”
“Why is that?” I asked, also stopping in my tracks, and Leira sighed again.
“It’s blood magic. The only way to counter it is with another equally powerful, equally taboo kind of magic. There isn’t anything like that, that exists in this world.”
I raised an eyebrow at her choice of words. Everything the fae said was intentional—it had to be, because they couldn’t lie.
“Maybe not in this world,” I murmured. “But what about in your world?”
She faltered, her gaze narrowing at me, and I smirked back at her. Eventually, she scowled.
“Look, maybe. But I’m not inclined to help you with that. I have my own life to get back to.”
“Really? Because I don’t feel that our debt is fully repaid yet,” I insisted, straightening my shoulders.
“Is that so?” she challenged, glaring back at me now.
At the edge of my hearing, I picked up heavy footsteps from the end of the tunnel. Shit. Nolan’s men had done exactly what I’d been afraid of and blocked our only exit.
Her gaze narrowed, noting the way I’d tensed, the way my gaze had drifted toward the sound.
“They’re coming,” I warned her with a grimace. “And you can’t leave until I dismiss you. So here’s what’s going to happen: you’re going to open a portal right now and take us both with you to Faerie.”
She glanced toward the sound. I doubted she could hear it yet with her fae hearing, but ignoring my warning would be a risk that would likely lead to her recapture.
“On what grounds?” she challenged, but I knew she was already struggling to summon a portal from the way her fingers flexed, the ice spluttering at her fingertips.
“Without us, your entire life would be ruined,” I insisted. “You never would have realized the truth, never would have escaped the painting. You never would have had the chance to get back to your real life. So, saving our lives? Sure, that’s one thing. But since you get to gallivant back to your life, until our lives are fully restored in turn, then I don’t believe the weight of the favor is fully repaid at all.”
Leira’s gaze turned stormy as her lip curled. I smiled triumphally in response, my hearing tuned to the footsteps that were growing louder by the second now. From the tension on her face, I knew she could hear them too.
“Well then,” she spoke, her voice low. “I guess I’m faced with no choice but to escort you to my realm.”
“And,” I added quickly, before she could sever the bargain there, “you will help us look for magic to break Margot’s spell.”
“Fine,” she seethed back. “But I make no promises that you will find what you seek.”
“Deal,” I agreed relentingly—we didn’t have time to argue further. Magic finally burst from her fingertips, and I swore the temperature plummeted at least ten degrees around us. The whitish-blue magic circled around our feet in a perfect circle. I gripped Fleur tightly in anticipation of what was coming next. Ice crackled beneath us, coating the ground in a shimmering sheen of blue. Then chips cracked and shattered as the ground finally cleaved apart and swallowed us whole.
Frigid wind tore at my bare torso, snow and ice biting into my cheek as I came to. I rolled onto my back, wincing, and opened my eyes to a stormy gray sky.
Beside me, Fleur groaned, finally coming to. The cold wind had probably stirred her awake, affecting her more than it did me. We were completely exposed to it, surrounded by staggering mountains with sharp peaks covered in snow, and a few paces away was a bridge. To our left, the cliff sloped down, forming a path somewhere beyond my knowledge.
Movement caught my eye, and I spotted Leira waiting with her arms folded near the bridge, leaning against the side of it.
I pushed upright and crawled to Fleur’s side, scanning her for obvious injuries. But there was only the dark spray of dry blood that still coated her clothes and the smear of her own blood coating her neck. Every other scratch and bruise had healed earlier. Though her skin was paler than usual, due to the cold.
Her eyes fluttered open, and her gaze adjusted as she fixed it on me. I waited by her side for her to get her bearings, noting the confusion on her face at the unfamiliar surroundings.
“How are you feeling?” I asked, and she grimaced. She lifted her hand to tuck her blowing hair behind her ear, then stopped and observed her arm in surprise. It was the one that had fractured, now healed.
“What... happened?” she asked slowly, then scanned the space around us again quickly. “Where’s Katrina?”
I reached out to steady her with my hand before she could spiral.
“Your body gave out,” I explained slowly. “I healed you with my blood.”
She stared at me in horror for a moment.
“With your blood?” she repeated. I gave her a pointed look, unable to help the huff building in my throat.
“Please tell me that you know vampire blood has curative properties, or I swear next time I see Margot I’m going to—”
