Sinful Magic (27 page)

He watched as she walked in, her gaze traveling over the spacious living room done in black leather and chrome on marble floors, taking in the wet bar across the room, then settling on Darcy. The witch sat on the leather couch with a laptop opened and her phone out.

Darcy set the laptop aside and stood up. She had her hair clipped up and wore a pair of cropped pants and a T-shirt.

Key shut the door and asked, “Have you found out anything yet?”

“No.” She walked over to Roxy. “I’m sorry, if I’d had any idea, I’d have warned you. It never occurred to me that the Tear would lock on to you.” She paused, lowering her gaze. “I see the chain, and the soft lights flickering. Do you mind showing me where the Tear went into your skin?”

Roxy reached up and undid two buttons, pulling the left side of the shirt open.

Darcy grimaced. “I’ve never seen anything like that. It seems to be over your heart.”

Key came up behind Roxy. “Can you get it out?”

Roxy pulled her shirt closed, her movements slow.

Darcy said, “I want to look with my third eye. Try to see what the Tear is doing.” She reached out and took Roxy’s arm.

Roxy looked down at her hand. “Is it safe to touch me?”

A renewed tremor of rage went through him. Key fisted his hands to keep from pulling her into his arms.

Kindness filled Darcy’s gaze. “I’m sure it is.” She led Roxy to the couch. “Carla and Ailish are on the computer. We’re going to join our powers.”

“Hi, Roxy,” Carla’s voice floated out.

“Hang in there, Roxy,” Ailish said, “We’ll figure this out.”

Key stood a few feet back, and crossed his arms over his chest. He saw only the back of the laptop, but he was used to the way the witches often worked through the computer.

“We’ll get started,” Darcy said and her magic began blooming, her witch-shimmer coloring her skin with gold lights. Roxy’s witch-shimmer rose and warmed her too-pale skin. A part of Key noticed the incredible beauty of the two witches, his artist’s eye catching fingers of gold slipping through Roxy’s sunset shimmer. Their magic was joining as Darcy used her third eye to see what the Tear was doing. He saw tiny flares of Carla’s and Ailish’s witch-shimmers, too, so they were circling their power or whatever they did.

Then he felt Roxy’s magic as it streamed through him, the dragon flared to life, and the resulting thrum inside him was incredible. Hot arousal and life-giving light mixed and grew. He was acting as Roxy’s familiar, he realized. They’d sealed their souls, and their intimate bond was coming to life.

For one second, fierce joy soared through him. The curse was truly broken, and he had a mate!

Then he looked at Roxy and saw the pulsing colored lights, muted from the layer of skin and clothing. The crystal Tear was in her and would kill her if they didn’t get it out.

The magic began to recede. Key heard the door and turned to see Axel stride in, then walk over to stand at Darcy’s shoulder. The two of them often communicated through their bond. Had the witch called him into the condo? Key had to know. “What did you find?”

Roxy laced her fingers together, turning her knuckles white. “It’s bad, isn’t it?”

Darcy’s witch-shimmer faded to pale distress. She glanced at Key, then focused on Roxy. “I’m afraid it is. The pulses of light in the Tear are wrapping around your life force. If we pull it out, with magic or force, it’ll kill you.”

Key’s hands fisted. “And if it stays in?”

Darcy bit her lip, then reached out to cover Roxy’s joined hands. “It’s draining your life.”

The skin on Key’s chest burned and blistered beneath his shirt. What? he thought darkly, now the dragon was pitching a fit that he’d failed to claw her to death? He wasn’t satisfied with the Tear draining off her life?

Roxy was dying. Because she’d chosen magic. She didn’t belong here with these powerful witches who had men who loved them. Darcy sat facing her on the couch, Axel standing at her shoulder. Carla and Ailish were on the laptop screen. She couldn’t even look at Kieran. He blamed himself. But she’d been the one who bought into the stupid fairy tale, reciting a story about Dyfyr that she’d probably just imagined, convincing herself that the ancient dragon loved her. Or maybe her schema had fueled the fantasy to get her to Awaken her magic.

Hurts. Dyfyr had told her down in Phoenix’s gym. Had that been real? If it had, he must have meant it as a warning, that it hurts to be awake, so leave him alone. Her eyes filled with tears, and she looked to the left, over the back of the couch at the wet bar. Dyfyr

he felt so real to her, like the part of her that had been missing for as long as she could remember. “Why does he hate me?” God, she was so pathetic. She didn’t want them to see her like this. Didn’t want Kieran to see her broken by a pain so profound that breathing hurt.

Hurts.

Her chakras shivered and swelled, her magic streaming out with a will of its own. Roxy didn’t care. She had an inkling now of how much Dyfyr suffered in losing his lover.

Something brushed her arms. She jerked her gaze back, but Darcy touched only her linked hands in her lap. Key was still across the room. Yet she felt something, like buttery-soft leather stroking her bare arms.

Hurts.

That voice! It triggered a déjŕ vu so powerful, Dyfyr’s image filled her mind. Was it the dragon? Or was her sanity breaking?

“Roxy.”

Carla’s voice. She turned, looking at the witch on the laptop.

“I don’t think that’s it,” Carla said.

“What?” Her head was filled with the dragon.

“I don’t think Dyfyr hates you,” the witch said patiently. “I saw the way he reacted to you when he partially woke in Phoenix’s gym. That dragon did what you told him to and went back to sleep.”

“Then why did he try to kill her?” Key demanded. “You weren’t there, Carla. I tried to grab the Tear, and razor-sharp claws sprouted out. If I hadn’t pulled back, I’d have pierced her heart.”

“Something’s going on, but I don’t think Dyfyr is trying to kill her. I asked the Ancestors, and they believe Roxy is the reincarnation of the dragon’s lover, too.”

The brush of wings on her arms was still there. Confused, she said, “I feel him,” Roxy said, looking over to Key. “Dyfyr, I feel his soft, leathery wings.”

Key stood unmoving in his shroud of anger and self-recrimination. “Don’t trust him. It’s a trick.”

Roxy slid her hands from Darcy’s and stood up. “Then what should I do, just give up and die?” Rage erupted inside her. “Come on, Kieran. Everyone is always telling me what to do, everyone knows what’s best for me, so tell me what the hell am I supposed to do?”

His left eye twitched, then he exploded with, “I told you not to wear the goddamned Tear! But you wouldn’t listen to me! You had to wear it! And now you’re dying!”

That’s right. He had told her what to do and she hadn’t listened. So he’d leave. That’s how it worked. People only wanted her when she did as they wished. The wings had left her and now she truly was alone. She lifted her chin. “So which is it? Are you drowning in all that dark, angsty guilt that you carry around, or is it all my fault? Why don’t you go draw your pretty pictures until you figure it out.” She turned toward the couch, then looked back over her shoulder. “Oh, and FYI, I’m going to fight to live, so deal with it.” Kieran was right, it was her fault, but she was angry, hurt, scared, and so alone it felt as if she were going to fall into an endless hole of thick, choking darkness.

The silence made her want to run like a coward. Axel, Darcy, Carla, and Ailish, they belonged to Kieran, not her. She just stood there, not knowing what to do. Leave? But where would she go? Would Liam still hunt her? She stared at the back of the leather couch. Then she remembered the phone Sutton had given her. She reached down and picked it up. “I’ll call my mother and go stay—”

Key snatched the phone from her hand. “The hell you are! Liam will have you within minutes. He’ll cut that Tear out of you.”

She shuddered.

“Roxy, damn it, I can’t touch you.” Blue mist flared in his eyes. “I don’t dare touch you because I don’t trust the dragon not to hurt you. But I want to. I know you’re scared, upset, and I want to

I’m sorry.”

Yeah, and she’d made him feel worse. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you.” She sank down on the couch. “Carla, if Dyfyr doesn’t hate me, then what happened?” She hoped the witches would still help her after that special little outburst. Although Kieran made a good point, the Tear was in her, and they had to keep it out of Liam’s hands. Exhaustion spread through her.

“I don’t know. We’re missing something, a piece somewhere.” On the screen, Carla pushed her long blond hair back. “How many chakras did you open tonight?”

“Five.”

“If you can open your third eye in your sixth chakra, you might be able to see Dyfyr and ask him. That’s what the Ancestors suggested.”

She thought about that. “I’d need more power than I have yet

”

Darcy leaned forward. “It builds as you and your soul mirror strengthen your connection.”

She looked up to Key, knowing she’d need him. Her magic was based in sex and

“I don’t trust the dragon,” he said.

So he wouldn’t touch her, help her.

“Key.” Roxy saw Ailish fill the screen. “You can try to touch Roxy and see what Dyfyr does. You have to try. Roxy’s going to need more power. And her time is limited.”

Time. Her life was draining. She hadn’t thought to ask. Roxy turned to the witch. “How long?”

Ailish’s silvery eyes darted around, revealing her distress. “From what we saw in our third eye, not long, maybe two months. I’d say you have to work fast, you have a week or two before you start losing strength.”

Two months. Two months to live, two months to find the answer. Once Key calmed down, she’d get him to help her try to open her third eye and talk to Dyfyr. Then—

“Roxy,” Carla flashed back on the screen. “You said your mother is a fertility witch, too. Talk to her, see if she has any ideas. I really feel like we’re missing some vital part of the puzzle. Fertility witches are so secretive, she might know what we’re missing.”

Her mother. Another wave of guilt snapped through her, causing her heart to hammer. “I should have told you this sooner.” Her voice was as heavy as her heart. Each beat was painful.

Darcy laid her hand on Roxy’s thigh. “What?”

Her mouth went dry. “My mother’s name is Gwen Banfield, but on the Circle Witches, she goes by Silver.”

The other witch jerked her hand back. “Silver. The witch who accused Carla of misusing her power?”

Roxy felt the bite of Darcy’s anger in her voice. She reached up and rubbed her temple. “Yes. My mother started the Circle Witches and she’s bitterly jealous of you three coming in and pushing her aside. Carla being chosen as Moon Witch Advisor by the Ancestors infuriated her. She’s power hungry.” She dropped her hand and added, “All my life, she refused to tell me the secrets of fertility witches until I had Awakened. She pushed me even when she found out my Awakening was a witch hunter, and my power releasing might inflame his bloodlust. All because she knew I had the full goddess mark, and I might be able to wake the dragon. But she never told me that, she just pushed and pushed.” She stopped talking.

“Why didn’t you say something when I asked about your mother?” Carla inquired.

“Or when you called your mother from my loft?” Key demanded. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

What could she say? “I was afraid.” Afraid Key would reject her, her new friends would reject her. Afraid she’d have to leave, afraid Liam would get her again. She wanted to save Key’s soul by binding their souls. She just wanted to—

“What else are you hiding?” Key asked.

His voice rippled across her skin. She closed her eyes and knew she had to tell them all. “I think my mother was lying about the Tear. That she knows more.” Whipping her head around, she opened her eyes and said, “I believe she was involved in the spell that created you. I felt her magic when I connected with Dyfyr in Phoenix’s gym.”

He stepped back like she’d hit him. His entire body tightened, and a tremor went through him. Then he turned and strode out.

And he was gone.

Key stood atop the highest building in Glassbreakers, Wave Runner Plaza. Years ago he’d painted a mural in the lobby and discovered the roof.

He stood at the three-foot-high wall, looking out. The night was dark and cool, lit by icy stars and the moon. The wind buffeted him, carrying the scents of the ocean and the city. If he leapt off the building, would his wings come out, allowing him to soar the skies? Or would he drop twenty stories, his body as heavy as his heart?

Even the sight of the city lights couldn’t dim the memory of that Tear disappearing into Roxy or the claws coming out on his hands.

Or Roxy in the maze with the moonlight pouring over her, waking the dragon as he was buried inside her body. Or when he’d laid her back on the grass, sliding his body into her heat and watching her eyes shimmer with powerful emotion that echoed in his chest. She’d been his, and he’d felt a part of something special.

Then he’d nearly killed her. Was killing her. For his bellowing at her that she insisted on wearing the necklace, who was the freak of magic that drew the picture of her wearing it? Who took the necklace from its hiding place and settled it over her neck, letting the Tear fall against her breast?

Just like when he’d thrown his knife and hit Vivian in the throat. She’d been so young, pregnant with their child, and he’d killed her.

It never ended, no matter what he did, where he went, violence followed him.

His dry eyes ached.

Key turned from the city, facing the huge expanse of roof. He reached to the small of his back and pulled his knife from its sheath. He’d gladly cut the dragon from his chest if it would save Roxy, but he knew the creature was immortal.

Instead, Key dropped to his knees. Feeling the hard concrete bite into his kneecaps, he slid the blade across his palm. Then he laid the knife on the ground, bowed his head and called, “Wing Slayer.” This had worked for Phoenix when he needed the god to help him save Ailish. Would Wing Slayer do the same for Roxy? Key had only one, single hope.