MagicalMistakes Page 11
Tearing away from Rouke, she sprang clear from the fallen men.
“Ciar,” she breathed. He was back, which meant the spell had to be broken. But had he realized his feelings because she’d been threatened or because Alina had?
Rouke thrust Ciar away from him, pushing to his feet. Ciar tried to follow suit but his arms gave out under him. He fell back to the ground with a groan.
“Oh hell,” Mikayla whispered, watching as he tried again to rise with a body too exhausted to move.
“What’s this?” Rouke demanded, triumph already ringing in his voice. “Helpless as a babe.”
Ciar rolled to the side, his eyes seeking out Mikayla. She’d never even considered the reversal of her spell would have such an impact but obviously she should have. The curse she’d laid on him was a powerful one, bound deeply to his very essence. It had been taking him longer and longer each time to recover from his shifts. Obviously this last one had used up more of his energy than he could afford to lose. He needed time to recover.
And time was something none of them had.
“If I had known you’d be this easy to defeat I’d have come after you years ago,” Rouke declared, grabbing the dagger at his waist.
Mikayla sprang into action. Twirling before Ciar, she struck out. Her foot caught Rouke in the chest and he stumbled back.
“Touch him and I will end you,” Mikayla vowed.
Rouke looked at her in surprise. “You?” he asked, a mocking smile on his lips. “Little girl, you don’t want to play with me.”
“Even demons don’t mess with witches if they value their lives,” Mikayla replied.
As Rouke strode toward her, she cast her hands out to her sides. “Fire, fire burning bright, I call thee to my aid this night,” she chanted. Balls of flame burst to life on her palms. With a cry she hurled the flaming weapons at her enemy.
Rouke howled in pain as the fire scorched him. He tried to bat the endless stream of fireballs from the air but he could not escape the torrent of flame.
Leaving Ciar kneeling on the ground, Mikayla advanced on Rouke. She struck out with her magic, never letting him escape her volley. Rouke cursed as his vest caught fire. He tore the garment from his body and flung it to the ground.
“Neat trick,” he growled, dodging a fireball. “But fire doesn’t do much against knives.” Grabbing two daggers from his belt he threw them at her with unerring accuracy.
Mikayla dropped to the ground to avoid the blades, but she wasn’t fast enough. One dagger sank deep into her shoulder before she could twist out of the way.
She hit the ground with a cry of pain. Warm blood stained her white shirt as dark rivulets ran down her arm.
“Mikayla,” Ciar hissed, pushing himself unsteadily to his feet.
“Vines rise and come to me, tangle round my enemy,” Mikayla called, slamming one hand against the ground.
The earth rumbled around them. The look of triumph vanished from Rouke’s face as the ground broke apart beneath him. Thick roots shot from the earth and wrapped him in a crushing hold.
As he battled her magic, Mikayla stumbled back to Ciar. Her left arm was almost completely numb which, given the amount of pain she should be in, was probably a blessing.
“What new trick is this?” Ciar demanded.
“You broke the spell. This is the backlash,” Mikayla said. “You should be back to normal in a few minutes.”
“I seriously doubt we have that much time,” Ciar replied. Before them Rouke fought against the vines holding him. He hacked at the plants with his knives, desperate to be free.
Mikayla drew a deep breath. “Okay, then I’ll have to finish this.” Never in her life had she used her magic to purposely hurt anyone, but if she didn’t do something soon they’d all be dead. It was up to her. Ciar caught her hand when she tried to step forward.
“Mikayla,” he breathed, pulling her back to him.
She fought against his hold. “We don’t have time for this.”
“Stop,” he commanded her. “You can’t do this.”
“Someone has to.”
Ciar shook his head. “Listen. I may not be the biggest fan of your magic but I know very well you could never kill anyone.”
“I can to save us all.”
He smiled slightly. “My champion, eh?”
“Let go, Ciar. We’re wasting time,” she replied, tugging on her arm.
Rouke slashed out against the vines. He’d managed to free one arm and was clawing ever closer to escaping Mikayla’s trap.
“Mikayla, this is not your fight. It’s mine. Rouke is a Clan Lord. Do you have any idea what would happen if a witch killed him? Not only would you have a clan of demons gunning for you but your sisters would also be in the line of fire. Depending on the rage of the clan, it could even escalate into a demon-witch war. You can’t be anywhere near this.”
She swallowed hard, fear racing down her spine. “I have to help you,” she argued.
Ciar laughed softly. Leaning forward, he pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. “Ah, my witch,” he murmured, “you have no concept of how much you already have.”
Before them, Rouke had almost broken completely free. Only one ankle was still trapped by the vines.
“Help Alina,” Ciar commanded, his eyes on his cousin. “And do not interfere, no matter what happens.”
Mikayla wanted to protest but she knew how stubborn her lover could be. “You get hurt and I will kill you,” she hissed at him before grabbing his neck and forcing his lips down to hers.
It wasn’t a goodbye kiss, full of sentimental longings. Instead she summoned up her magic and forced it from her body into his. Mikayla had never tried to transfer her energy this way. She didn’t know if it was possible but skin-on-skin touch was a powerful connector. It was a gamble, giving up her strength with an enemy so close, but this was Ciar. A man she loved, and more importantly, one she trusted. Completely. If they had a chance of coming out of this alive, he would need every drop of strength she could spare.
Her lips turned icy as her magic flowed into her lover. Demon and witch magic didn’t mix and energies clashed as they tried to combine. Still, Ciar didn’t push her away. Pain gripped her, invisible claws shredding her insides. Her magic didn’t want to leave her and she had to tear it from herself and force it into her lover.
When she’d given all she could afford she slumped away from him, trying to catch her breath. Until she recharged, she was almost as weak as a human.
“What the hell did you do this time?” he demanded, his voice stronger.
She grinned as she gasped for breath. “Better?”
He hesitated for a moment, no doubt taking stock of his body.
“You might hate my magic,” she said. “But you gotta admit, sometimes I get it right.”
His brief grin was her only reward as they heard the roots tear away from the contained demon. Ciar pushed to his feet, striding toward his cousin as Rouke kicked away the last of the vines.
“Hello, cousin,” Ciar said. “I’m feeling better.”
He struck out without warning, his fist catching Rouke in the stomach. He went sailing backward only to crash into the plastic slide. Mikayla grinned viciously. Looked like her powers had served her well this time.
Ciar advanced on his fallen enemy. There was no mercy in his eyes.
“I left the demon realm to avoid a situation like this,” he hissed. “But you had to be stupid enough to follow.”
“You started this, half-blood,” Rouke snarled as he rose to his feet. “You stole my fiancée.”
Ciar snorted. “No one can make Alina do anything against her will. Keep that in mind if you truly mean to take her as your Lady.”
Rouke bared fangs before throwing himself at his cousin.
Mikayla watched the two men grapple in the middle of the playground. It went against everything in her to sit back and leave Ciar to fight alone. If the fight turned against him, she didn’t know if she could stop herself
from interfering, even if her actions brought trouble to the witch community.
Forcing herself to turn away from the battle, she glanced at Alina. The woman looked out for the count.
“Hey,” Mikayla called as she forced her battered body to move. She stumbled to Alina before dropping to the sand at her side. “Wake up.” Mikayla checked for a pulse and found Alina’s heartbeat was strong beneath her fingers. “No time for a nap.”
Trying not to take too much glee from her actions, she snapped her fingers. Her depleted magic was still strong enough for a few simple spells. An electric shock raced through the prone demon, bringing her around with a painful gasp.
“Sorry,” Mikayla said unsympathetically.
“What the hell did you do to me?” Alina demanded, panting for breath.
“Helped you. You need to get in the game.”
Alina flicked back her tangled hair and looked out across the playground. “Ah,” she murmured when she saw Ciar and Rouke fighting.
“Apparently I can’t do anything because I’m a witch, but you’re not. You need to go help Ciar.”
But despite her order, Alina stayed curled on the ground, watching the men battle.
“Go,” Mikayla demanded.
Alina glanced at her. “No.”
Shock froze Mikayla. “Excuse me?”
“This is their fight.”
“How can you say that?” she said, noting the calculating gleam in Alina’s eyes as she watched her lovers war. And in one clarifying second everything made sense. “You want to see who wins,” Mikayla said dully. “You don’t want to help in case you accidentally pick the losing team. Do you even care who is victorious?”
“I want Ciar to win, of course,” Alina replied. “But if he doesn’t, I’m not letting him pull me down with him.”
“Selfish bitch,” Mikayla hissed. “How can you say you love him?”
Alina smiled cynically. “Don’t give me your self-righteous lecture on the virtues of love. Love is all well and good but it doesn’t help you survive. Power does. And in the demon world, that’s all that matters.”
“You’re wrong. If Ciar goes back to you after all this, I may have to curse him all over again.” Mikayla pushed to her feet, not wanting to be anywhere near the cold-hearted woman.
On the sand, Rouke twirled out of Ciar’s reach, narrowing avoiding getting slashed with sharp nails. He leapt back from Ciar as he panted harshly. Despite Ciar’s handicap, he was more than holding his own with his cousin. The sight brought a smile to Mikayla’s lips.
But her joy quickly evaporated when Rouke growled several words she’d never heard before. The air before him rippled as he reached into the waving air to draw out a deadly looking blade.
Demon magic, Mikayla thought. But this magic was more powerful than whatever Rouke had done to Alina. Mikayla stumbled, nausea clawing at her. The cloying darkness of the magic washed over her, raising all the hairs on her arms. Pain burst through her temples and forced her to her knees as she gripped her head in agony. The malevolence of the spell beat at her. This magic was never meant to be cast in the human realm.
Ciar glanced back at her, hesitating when he saw her pain.
“Do it,” she yelled to him, knowing he needed to be on equal footing with Rouke.
Regret washed over his face as he called up his own powers. Mikayla saw her lover produce another blade from the air, but the tainted magic swirling around her was making it hard to breathe. She’d never known how truly disadvantaged she was around demons. Over and over she’d heard their kind didn’t mix but she’d thought it was because of their penchant for violence. She’d never known how deadly their magic could be to her. How easily Ciar could have taken his vengeance on her these past days they’d lived together. That he hadn’t showed her more clearly than words that he did care for her. But did he love her?
The clash of metal against metal rang out over the park as the two swords met. Ciar parried and ducked past Rouke’s guard, attacking from the side. His movements were fluid and practiced. Mikayla knew she was seeing years of training being put to use.
Flying past Rouke’s guard, Ciar thrust out. His blade cut through his opponent’s skin with astonishing ease. Mikayla couldn’t help flinching at the howl of pain that escaped the fallen demon.
Rouke knelt on the ground, his hand pressed against a vicious gash on his side. Dark blood leaked through his fingers. Before him Ciar raised his sword, ready to deliver the killing blow.
“Watch out!” Mikayla cried out as she saw a grin of triumph twist Rouke’s lips.
Rouke grabbed a handful of sand and threw in into Ciar’s face. While he was blinded, Rouke kicked Ciar’s legs out from under him. Ciar crashed to the ground. The sword flew from his weakened grip, landing just out of reach.
“Ciar,” Mikayla gasped, racing forward.
She had no idea what she could possibly do to help but she knew there was no way Ciar was going to die in front of her. Not as long as she had breath in her body.
With a roar, Rouke drove his sword toward Ciar’s unprotected chest. He barely managed to roll out of the way in time.
“Mikayla, no!” Ciar yelled as the flames appeared in her palms once more.
Mikayla hesitated. How much was she going to risk for this man?
But looking at him dodge Rouke’s blade she realized it was an easy question to answer.
Everything.
Mikayla threw the flames. The fire sailed through the air toward Rouke. He ducked out of the way with a curse but the distraction gave Ciar the time he needed to reclaim his blade. While Rouke was off balance, Ciar attacked, sending his adversary to the ground. Rouke crashed into the sand and froze when Ciar’s sword pressed sharply against his throat.
“Stay down,” Ciar ordered.
Rouke bared his teeth in reply but made no move to fight. “Finish it,” he growled.
But Ciar didn’t deliver the killing blow.
“What are you waiting for?” Alina demanded, striding forward. “You won the fight.” Her eyes flickered to Mikayla. “Mostly. No one needs to know of her involvement. Kill him.”
“No,” Ciar snarled, staring down at his cousin. “If I kill him, I have to become him.”
Alina smiled in agreement. “You two are the last of the bloodline. If you refuse to replace him, it means civil war for us. You have to come back with me, Ciar. There is no choice.”
Ciar turned his gaze to Mikayla.
She stood frozen. Here was his chance to go home and have the respect and power his father and brother had once enjoyed. This was the position he should have rightfully held all these years. Despite his protests to the contrary, would he really pass up the opportunity? Especially when it meant he could have Alina at his side?
“Ciar,” she said, knowing how selfish the words were. “Don’t kill him.”
Alina snorted. “Why wouldn’t he?”
“Because he needs to stay here.”
Alina scoffed. Mikayla ignored her, focusing on her lover. “You need to stay,” she said, taking a step forward. “Because there are people who would never stop missing you if you left. Don’t kill him. You are not that man anymore.”
Their eyes met and Mikayla wished she had the power to read Ciar’s expressionless face. But her lover gave nothing away as he dropped to his knees, careful to keep his blade pressed against Rouke’s throat. Leaning over his cousin, Ciar studied his angry face.
Above him, Alina grinned in triumph. Mikayla hated her utter certainty that Ciar would choose power over love.
But when he finally spoke, his words stole Alina’s smile.
“Listen to me well, Rouke,” Ciar said, his voice chilling. “You are never to come back to this realm. The clan may be yours but this place is mine. Return here and I will destroy you.”
Rouke narrowed his eyes but didn’t argue Ciar’s words.
“Go back to the demon realm,” Ciar told him. “Rule there and leave me alone. I have no interest in y
our power.”
He pushed away from his fallen cousin before raising his hand.
Mikayla gritted her teeth as demon magic once more flooded the air. Before them a portal ripped through the air.
“Leave,” Ciar commanded.
Warily, Rouke rose to his feet. He glanced at the threshold with mulish displeasure.
“This isn’t over, cousin,” he growled.
“It is,” Ciar replied. “I want nothing from your world and you want nothing from mine. If I were you, I’d turn my attention to your throne. I will be interested to see how long you can hold it.”
Rouke hissed in anger but rose to his feet. He cast a hate-filled glance at Mikayla but she return the glare with cold distaste. He’d been beaten. For all his pride, even he knew it. The only thing left was for him to vanish from their lives. Hopefully forever.
With his head held high, Rouke stalked to the portal and disappeared through the crack between realms.
Mikayla breathed a sigh of relief when he was gone. They’d done it. They’d won.
“Alina,” Ciar said.
The name reminded Mikayla that while she might have won the battle, it was no guarantee she’d win the war.
Alina had drifted to the edge of the portal, staring into the swirling darkness.
“You don’t have to go,” Ciar told her.
Alina smiled bitterly. “What else is left for me, Ciar?”
“I can show you how to make a life for yourself here.”
“With the witches?” she mocked. “Living a life of anonymity, revealing my nature only in the dark corners of a bar? That is no life. Not for me.”
“There is no guarantee you’ll have anything more if you go back to the demon realm.”
His words made her grin. “Oh my, Ciar, you have been gone for too long. Have you forgotten bloodlust and betrayal are merely foreplay to demons? I can handle Rouke.”
“Alina.”
She hesitated, staring at the portal and the dark world beyond it.