The Silverwing's Sorceress: THe Shadow Slayers, Book 2.5 (6 page)

Looked like she couldn’t stack the books this time and peruse at her convenience. No, she had to choose, and she only got one. “Do you think if I choose the wrong one I can come back later and exchange it?”

Jaxon laughed under his breath. “I’m not a witch, dove, but even I can tell that whoever set up this ward and this warning took it fairly seriously.”

She couldn’t bring herself to agree out loud. With any luck, he was wrong. She stood back, inspecting each book from a distance, but she couldn’t decipher the symbols on the front. “Can you help with the words on the covers?”

“I can’t see them from here.”

“Maybe I could tilt them up without actually taking them from their spot.”

“Maybe, but be careful,” Jaxon answered. “What are we looking for?”

She circled around the pedestals like she was stalking the books. “I have no clue.”

When she reached for the first book on the left, her fingers prickled right before she touched it, like its energy was reaching up to her, ready to glom on—but the energy felt all wrong. She snatched her hand away. “Shoot. I’m not going to be able to lift them. It’s like their energy is sticky. But I can tell you it’s not this one.”

Energy fields were tricky, and manipulating them with magic was even trickier. Sometimes she had to mix ingredients for a spell. Sometimes it was saying the right words. But successful spells depended on the power of the witch, too.

Abbey wasn’t a weakling, but she wasn’t exactly high-priestess material. On the scale of witchy awesomeness, there were sorceresses on one end, people who had the bloodline—but not the magic spark—on the other, and then there was Abbey somewhere in the middle. “I don’t know if you realize how cool it is that you guys have a sorceress on Mercury Island. Most people say they were wiped out with death magic.”

“She doesn’t wield
nex veneficus
, of course. There is no way in hell the Mercury Lords would allow death magic on an island of Demiáre. That would be as smart as feeding your wings through a wood chipper.” Jaxon paused when Abbey brought her fingers above another book. “Any luck? As much as I appreciate these beautiful burrows, I much prefer a wide-open sky above me.”

“Not this one. Just one more minute.”

She eyed the third book. It was bound in black with red slashes on the cover, intricate enough that she couldn’t tell if it was a design or another foreign word. But it didn’t matter what it said on the outside. Not when she was getting such a strong feeling of what was on the inside. Its energy was dark and seething, but it purred to her—a silent, contented vibration—as her hand drew near.

“I can only take one, and unfortunately—” she carefully lifted the black tome from the rough surface of the stone pedestal and held it up for Jaxon to see, “—I think it’s this one.”

He met her eyes, his gaze cautious in response to her somber tone. “Why ‘unfortunately’?”

“Because to take down the mountain’s protection, I’ll need the focal point. And I‘m pretty sure it’s this—
The Book of Death
.”

Chapter Four

Jaxon didn’t look happy. “At least now we know what your uncle was hiding—the bastard. Your entire coven could be held responsible for this. Even being in possession of a book of death magic is enough to get you killed.”

“Calm down. All I did was pick up a dusty, old manual. It’s no big deal.”

“There’s a reason
nex veneficus
is called death magic, Abbey. It’s one of the few ways witches can kill my people. Demiáre like to believe they are invincible, and they don’t take kindly to spells powerful enough to end an immortal’s life. The discovery of another handbook of
nex veneficus
is a ‘big deal’ to every clan on this side of the Shadowland.”

As she walked across the small room, the floor began to suck at her feet, and the soil around them quivered. “It’s getting sticky again.” She lifted her knees higher in an attempt to break the bonds of the magic pulling at her.

“Hurry,” Jaxon commanded.

“I am hurrying.”

But there was only so fast she could move when every step felt like dragging foot-long magnets over raw iron. And at the same time, the roof started to shake and large chunks of rock began to cascade down all around her.

“Oh, crap.” She was almost there. Almost…

As soon as her elbow cleared the doorway, Jaxon grabbed her and yanked her hard, just as the roof gave way. She spun, and with wide eyes witnessed the soil and rocks pour in behind her, building until the doorway was completely blocked. She expected the dust to billow out around them, but it seemed the same spell that kept Jaxon out kept the debris in.

“Are you hurt?” he asked.

“No. I’m okay. But I guess I really don’t get a second book now, do I?”

He narrowed his eyes and shook his head. She took a few steps into the corridor and scratched her scalp with one hand while the other arm cradled her prize. Thanks to the shaking ceiling, she had enough grit in the part of her hair to plant a row of corn. She blinked her eyes, trying to clear the dust from them. “What? I know that cranky look you get, like the time the DVR got full and erased your favorite series.”

“I cannot let you use that book.”

They headed toward what she hoped was the exit to the caves. “We need to disable the ward. Using the focal point to undo the spell is the only way I’m going to be able to get your wings working again.”

“Then we’ll walk.”

“That would take forever.”

“No,
forever
is how long I’ll be without you if you’re targeted by an angry clan of Demiáre.”

She sighed in relief when the small torches illuminated the stairs leading up to the pantry. “They don’t need to know. It’s not like I’m going to start a Demiáre death club or teach classes on
nex veneficus
at the local community college. This will be between you and me. Nobody else. Just one little spell to break the ward, and that’s it.”

Jaxon’s breath rolled around in his lungs like the beginnings of a growl. When they stepped into the bright kitchen, he took her arm and pulled her close. “Come here. Your hair is full of soil. It looks like strawberry sauce with chocolate crumbles.” She closed her watery eyes as he brushed his fingers over her scalp in quick sweeps. “You’ll need to wash it to get it all out. And your eyelashes… Keep your eyes closed.”

When she felt his breath on her face, his lips just inches from her eyes, gently blowing the soil from around her lashes, she went weak in the knees. He was so close, she could feel the heat from his body and smell the spicy scent of his skin. Her nipples tightened to rock-hard nubs, and it was a struggle not to lean into him. Drawing on her strength, she stepped back instead. “Hey, what about
your
personal hygiene?”

He bent at the waist and shook his head like a dog after a bath. “There. Good as new.”

She laughed, hoping he didn’t see how he was affecting her. She had to get out of here before she did something stupid. “A shower sounds nice.”

He smiled and extended his open hands. “I’ll hold the book until you’re finished.”

Abbey paused for a long moment, searching his eyes for signs of subterfuge, but then she handed it over. “You’re not gonna do anything weird to it, are you?”

“I’ll keep it safe—for now.”

She shrugged and turned for the master bedroom. “Hey, they’re your wings.”

The master bathroom was decorated in white and black. Too bad her uncle and his plans were a hazier shade of gray.

She stripped off her clothes, folded them neatly and laid them in the corner of the bathroom on the large, black granite tiles, then she unwrapped the long, stretchy bandage from around her stomach and peeled off the wadded tissues. “Oh, no.”

The gooey paper shredded, wedging itself in the grooves of her brand. She might have a better immune system than a human, but she was pushing her luck. She was going to have to wash the wound in the shower and then find something different to cover it before replacing the bandage.

She started the water, and once it got nice and steamy, she stepped in carefully. The hot spray felt like heaven. After enduring six months with the water-conserving faucets in Kara’s guest bath, Abbey couldn’t complain about Claude’s choice of a fancy rain-style showerhead. The water didn’t feel great filtering in through the burrows in her skin, but she was used to that. At least the area was mostly numb since the suture incident.

Several of her toiletry items hadn’t made it through the crash—their little plastic containers busting and leaking all over her clothes—but she managed to wash her hair with body soap.

After she was finished, she dried off with a fluffy white towel, taking care not to touch it to her abdomen. “Jaxon?” she called.

Within moments, she heard his deep voice from the other side of the door. “Yes?”

“My gauze supply got crud on it from my bag, and I forgot to grab a replacement for after my shower. Would you mind brining me some paper towels or napkins?”

“They won’t be sterile.”

“Eh.” He missed her shrug from behind the closed door. “If I was going to get another infection, I’d have it by now. And besides, there’s not much we can do about it at this point.”

“I’ll look for a first-aid kit.”

She bent and towel-dried her tangly hair. “Paper towels are fine. I’ve used them before.”

“I’ll be right back.”

She wrapped her towel around her breasts, trying to hold the snowy terrycloth fabric away from her skin until she could cover it. A moment later, Jaxon knocked and pushed the door open. He handed her the paper towels then walked from the room, not quite shutting the bathroom door behind him.

Abbey quickly wrapped her abdomen from just below her ribs to just above her pubic bone, then she walked out of the bathroom, the towel once again wrapped around her body, and headed for the dryer to grab her pajamas. Jaxon was standing in the hallway, waiting for her. When she reached into the dryer to grab her clothes, the towel loosened and slid to her feet.

“Eeep!” she shrieked and clutched it to her front. Her breasts were bared for Jaxon to see, but at least her bandages were covered.

He shook his head and waited for her to readjust the towel. “Stop trying to hide yourself. We will find a way to heal you, but if we never did, you would be perfect the way you are. There is no symbol on this earth that could detract from your beauty.” He stepped close to her and put his hand over her heart. “It comes from here, inside you.”

She met his eyes. Every day it was getting harder to deny how much she needed him. How easy would it be to shift the towel a mere inch and slide her bare breast under his fingers? She wanted to so much it was almost a physical hunger. Instead, she squeezed his hand and backed away. “Thanks for saying that. That’s really sweet.”

The look in his eyes made her nervous. She was closer to him than anyone else on the planet besides Kara, but that didn’t mean they could overcome the obstacles in their paths. “Well, I’d better go change.”

He stood his ground in the hall. “Stop running from me.”

“Running? How am I running? We live together. We sleep together. You’re one of my closest friends.”

“What if I want to be more?”

Electric chills swept from her chest up her flushed neck. “That would be a mistake. We both know it.” She saw in his eyes that he still wasn’t getting it. “I don’t want to lose what we have.”

His strong jaw clenched. “What if it wasn’t lost but only made stronger?”

“Are we really having this discussion? This is crazy. I’m bandaged up. I’m ugly as hell. And you…you’re perfect. You always have been and you always will be. I’m not sure a witch and a silver-wing were meant to make sparks.”

His body was rigid and erect, his hands fisted at his sides. “I feel sparks when I’m near you.”

“What are you doing?”

“I’m telling you that I want more than your friendship—and I’m obviously making a fool out of myself.”

“I can’t go there with you, Jaxon. Don’t you understand? You mean too much to me.”

“That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. You’d rather continue your string of shallow one-night stands than try something deeper with a man who cares for you?”

Her lips pursed tight. “First of all, when was the last time I had a one-night stand? Not since I’ve known you. And you may call it ridiculous, but I call it
self-preservation
. See—” she held her arms out on display, “—the only wounds I have are on the outside.”

“I would never hurt you.”

“No, not on purpose maybe, but you’re not even my species. You’re going to live forever, and I have about another hundred years. Besides…let’s be honest. If something was going to happen between us, it would have. For six months we slept together like buddies, and now you’re finally horny enough to pick up on me no matter what I look like.”

His nostrils flared and the muscles in his jaw went rock hard. “I’ve never wanted to throttle you before, Abbey, but in this moment, I’m inclined to put you over my knee. Don’t you ever insult your body in my presence. And don’t you dare lie to me and tell me we don’t have a spark. It’s a fucking inferno inside me. I felt it when you kissed me, and I feel it now.”