Of Fire and Storm Read online

Page 2


  “Then let’s hope the salt works,” Rhys said in a tight voice.

  Salt? Squinting, I saw the ring of salt spread around her in the grass. Smart girl.

  Behind me, Beth was carrying on something fierce, but I didn’t have any time to comfort her. I considered ignoring the pain and bursting through the opening, but I’d hit resistance along with the shock. How the hell was I going to save Rhys?

  Then an idea hit me, and I felt like a fool for not thinking of it sooner.

  I held up my spelled dagger and slashed through the doorway. Sparks flew, and the resistance disappeared.

  The demon abruptly stopped pacing and turned to me with wide eyes. It must have felt me break the binding.

  I ran toward the demon, my blades ready to inflict damage, and it leapt toward my face with its claws extended.

  Twisting to the side, I dropped into a crouch, then reached up to slash as it jumped over my head.

  The demon screamed in pain as it landed on the ground. It spun around to face me, its eyes glowing red, and released a low growl that turned into a moan. “You got through the barrier, demon slayer. The Great One said it would hold you in while I killed your friend and the woman.”

  “The Great One?”

  The demon responded by lunging for me, leaving a trail of thick, black blood. I knew I hadn’t inflicted a mortal wound, but I’d damaged it enough to slow it down.

  I leapt out of the way, then twisted around and plunged one of the blades into the demon’s back.

  It screamed and arched back, pushing the blade deeper, deep enough to reach the glowing orb I could now see in its chest. The demon’s last scream faded as it disappeared into a pile of ash, leaving behind the small glowing orb.

  “Rhys,” I said in a rush. “I killed it, but come over here and touch me so you can see this.” I pointed toward the floating orb with my blade. I wanted her to see it. This was why I had to destroy every demon that came down Beaucatcher Mountain.

  She rushed over and grabbed my wrist.

  Recently, I’d learned that I was a conduit between the human and spiritual planes. My clients could see their deceased loved ones by touching me. I could only presume it would also work with demons.

  Rhys’s gasp suggested I was right. “What is that?”

  “The souls of all the living things this demon consumed since crawling out of the gate to hell. Keep holding my wrist.” I leaned forward and pierced the orb with my blade. It burst open, and scores of tiny lights erupted from it, floating off into the night like fireflies.

  “They’re so beautiful,” Rhys whispered.

  “We saved them,” I said. “They were destined for hell, but now they can move on.”

  “If they can move on, then why isn’t there a white light to greet them like with the other ghosts you’ve helped?”

  I turned to face her, my mouth gaping. Why had I never considered that? “I don’t know.”

  She frowned. “Another question for Jack.”

  I had plenty of questions for Jack. “We need to tell him there’s no longer an emergency.”

  Rhys lifted her phone and started to tap out a text. “I’ll take care of it. I know you two aren’t really talking these days, although I’m still not sure what happened.”

  “Neither am I.” But that was only a partial truth. Jack knew Abel had saved my life on Beaucatcher Mountain, something no normal human could have done after the injuries I’d sustained. He also knew I had a strong connection with Abel, something I couldn’t sever. I’d tried to tell Jack I still needed him, but he’d distanced himself anyway. Hence the whole Charlotte thing.

  My hand tingled slightly, and the hair on the back of my neck stood on end. Something was watching me. I was fairly sure it was across the street. I spun around to face it, holding my daggers at the ready, but the feeling left just as quickly as it had set in. Had I imagined it?

  “What just happened?” Beth demanded, now standing on her front porch. “I saw you jumping around and stabbing at the air, and then the heavy pressure in the house subsided and I could walk out.”

  I took a deep breath and approached her. “The good news is that I’ve taken care of the thing upstairs.”

  “And the bad news?”

  “You were entertaining a demon.”

  Beth made us wait while she threw clothes and toiletries in a bag so she could go stay with a friend. Rhys and I promised to come back and meet her over her lunch break the next day to make sure the house was free of supernatural guests.

  As Beth pulled away from the house, I stared at the pile of ash on the ground, wondering who or what this Great One was, and what it wanted with me.

  Chapter 2

  “You’re late.”

  I cringed as I walked through the door of the previously empty warehouse on the east side of town, north of the mall. Davis, my morning trainer, was tapping his watch with a finger.

  “Only by one minute,” I said in defiance, although I should have known better than to back-talk him. It would only rain more punishment down on me.

  “Our sessions start at seven, Ms. Lancaster, not 7:01.”

  I hadn’t purposely set out to be late, but 6:25 came much too early for my taste on normal days, and it had been ten times harder to get up after last night. I hadn’t gotten home until after midnight, and worse, I’d been too keyed up to sleep.

  It wasn’t just the demon that had set me off. While driving home from Beth’s house, I’d felt a sharp tug come from my connection to Abel. It stole my breath and I nearly had to pull the car over to the side of the road. I could tell Abel’s adrenaline had increased, but I didn’t feel any pain. What the hell was he up to?

  For the rest of the drive home, I’d focused on his mood. The adrenaline must have made his emotions more readable, because I could tell he was anxious. Soon it eased, and I felt his triumph, only for it to be replaced by a completely unexpected emotion by the time I got home.

  As I poured fresh salt around all the openings on the first floor, I felt a wave of loneliness through the connection, and then it faded to the same empty static that had rolled off him for the past week.

  I was sitting at the kitchen table, trying to tap back into the connection, when Hudson walked in and gave me a disapproving frown.

  Hudson had been my best friend since sixth grade. We’d met soon after my parents’ murders, and I probably wouldn’t have made it through my grief without him. Neither of us had ever considered a romantic relationship, probably because we felt more like brother and sister than boyfriend and girlfriend. I was beyond grateful he’d moved in with me—he was my anchor at a time when I felt like everything was spiraling out of control—but he didn’t understand why I’d so eagerly accepted my new role, and he’d made it clear he didn’t approve.

  “I thought you didn’t go to jobs at night,” he said in a tight voice, turning on the kettle.

  I considered denying it, but I didn’t want to lie. “This was an exception.”

  He watched me with a frown. “You’re pushing yourself too hard, Pippy.”

  Deep down I knew Hudson was right, yet I couldn’t bring myself to admit it. I put in three hours of hard physical labor in the mornings, several hours of reasoning with ghosts in the late morning and afternoon, and then finished the evening at ten o’clock after another three hours of more grueling physical labor with my evening trainer, Rupert. I was physically and emotionally exhausted, especially after two solid weeks of this grueling schedule.

  He took my silence as encouragement. “You should cut back on your training. Pick one—morning or night. Or maybe you should alternate every day. And take Sundays off. Even God took a day of rest, surely you can too.”

  I released a loud sigh. “Huddy, I can’t.”

  His eyes darkened. “You mean you won’t.”

  I shook my head as tears filled my eyes. “I’m too tired to fight with you.”

  Hudson hesitated, then pulled me into a hug. “I’m sorry. I’m just w
orried.”

  “I know. I’m careful. I promise.”

  I let myself sink into his warm embrace, and he kissed the top of my head. “Let’s discuss something more pleasant. Your birthday is on Friday. Has Rhys mentioned it?”

  I swallowed a groan. My birthday. I’d turn twenty-five and likely face a whole new set of challenges I wasn’t ready for—a group called the Guardians was going to come to enlist me in their service.

  The Guardians were a shady doomsday group that had somehow predicted I’d have power over demons—only they thought I could control them, not just slay them. When I was a little girl, they’d approached my father with a request—demand—to train me. They’d given him the daggers that were now in my bag, but he’d convinced them to leave me alone (mostly) until my twenty-fifth birthday.

  Abel knew about this arrangement, and I couldn’t help wondering why he’d chosen such a bad time to skip town. I had no idea how to evade the Guardians, and I didn’t necessarily like the idea of going into hiding. This was one more glaring sign that I couldn’t count on him to protect me. I could only count on me.

  I shook my head. “No. She hasn’t mentioned it, and with everything going on, I think she forgot. I want to keep it that way.” Truth was, I’d hoped he would forget too, although I’d known better than to expect it.

  “Piper…”

  “No,” I said with more force than I’d intended, pulling out of his embrace.

  “But we celebrate every year.”

  “Not this year. Besides, I’m too busy.”

  “Too busy for your birthday?”

  “I just want to pretend it’s like any other day.” Too many negative associations were tied up with my twenty-fifth birthday. My father had essentially bartered his life for my temporary reprieve from the Guardians. The last thing I wanted to do was celebrate. Even my obstinate grandmother seemed to understand that. Ordinarily, she would have insisted I join her and my grandfather for a birthday dinner, but our relationship was currently strained—she’d hidden information about my father and the Guardians from me—and she’d announced she and Granddad were going on a cruise over my birthday, which had been arranged by my grandfather’s friend, Robert. The distance was probably a good thing right now.

  I turned and pointed a finger at Hudson. “Promise me you won’t tell anyone or plan anything.”

  “Pippy!”

  “Promise me.”

  “Okay, if that’s what you want, but it doesn’t seem right.”

  “Thank you.”

  “How about a cake?”

  “No.”

  “A card?”

  “No.”

  “What about flowers?”

  He flashed me a smug grin. He knew good and well that I’d have a hard time turning those down.

  “Okay…” I said, relenting. “But not an arrangement from a florist. Fresh-cut flowers.”

  His grin spread. “Done.” The kettle started to steam. “How about I make you some tea too, and then I’ll rub your feet. You’ll be asleep before you know it.”

  “How did you know I can’t sleep?”

  “I found you in the kitchen after midnight. You’re usually in your exhaustion-induced semi-coma by now.” My tension eased when I heard the smile in his voice.

  I headed into my bedroom and lay down on the comforter, too exhausted to wash up, and the next thing I knew the alarm on my phone was going off. Thanks to the snooze button, I grabbed ten more minutes of sleep. But I hadn’t packed my bag for the day, which I usually did the night before, and I’d shown up late.

  I had some serious groveling to do or Davis would make the next three hours hell on earth for me.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Fifty chin-ups and fifty pushups. The clock is ticking.”

  I cursed him under my breath, but also thanked the stars above that he hadn’t added more. Besides, I had to admit I was stronger because he was so tough on me.

  When I finished, he handed me a bottle of water. “Did you have a donut for breakfast?”

  “No, I had three hard-boiled eggs and a banana,” I said, truthfully. Davis was all about nutrition and hydration, and he always had a way of knowing when I lied. I’d begun to wonder if he had a supernatural power, but I was too intimidated to ask. Davis was a scary man, even when he wasn’t attacking me with daggers.

  He frowned, but he hadn’t launched into a lecture, so that was something. “We’ll start with practice daggers, then work with the real ones.”

  Working with the real daggers made me nervous, because I was scared to death I’d hurt him. I wasn’t exceptionally good—although I had reached a point where I could last nearly a minute before he mock killed me—but if I accidentally stabbed him, I couldn’t just “oops” him better.

  I quickly put on the leather vest and leather bracers for my forearms, both given to me the second day of training.

  As always, Davis started out with a warm-up of lunges and stretches; then we moved on to a series of defensive and offensive moves combined together in a martial arts type of routine. Once he declared my technique “acceptable,” it was time to spar.

  He held up his dull-edged practice daggers, staring at me with a blank expression for several seconds before he made his first move.

  I easily countered, then followed through with a lunge of my own, but his blade intercepted mine and he leapt backward, out of my reach. We continued on for another minute before his blade jabbed me in the gut and Davis declared me dead. We quickly reset then started again, all in an eerie silence that set my nerves on end. At least Rupert made some small talk.

  After an hour of sparring with the fake daggers, we took a five-minute break for me to drink more water and catch my breath. Davis had broken a sweat and seemed slightly out of breath, which made me feel better about my complete exhaustion. He pulled his phone out of his back pocket, then tapped the screen and lifted it to his ear.

  “Yes, sir,” he said with a subservience I wasn’t used to from him. He listened for about thirty seconds before he said, “Will do,” then hung up.

  I took a long gulp of water. “Was that Abel?”

  I was sure it had been. I could still feel him—far away. His emotions were perfectly camouflaged again.

  Davis gave me a scathing look. For a moment I thought he’d keep quiet, but after about ten seconds of silence, he asked, “Did you use your weapons last night?”

  Had Abel felt my own adrenaline rush? It seemed more likely that he was still having me followed. His spy must have seen me fighting the demon. “Why do you ask?”

  “Mr. Abel wants to know.”

  I put a hand on my hip. “Why doesn’t Mr. Abel ask me himself?”

  His brow lowered, and irritation filled his eyes. Just like he obeyed Abel, he expected me to obey him. But I wasn’t going to be so docile this time. I wanted some answers.

  “Where is Abel?”

  He released a short laugh. “You think he’s going to protect you from me? He’s given me permission to kick your ass.”

  “He hired you,” I said, ignoring his statement. “Surely he gave you a heads-up before he left town. Are you part of his security team?”

  Some of his gruffness fell away, replaced by cynicism. “Why do you want to know?”

  “Davis, you and I have been working together for two weeks now, and we’ve never once exchanged personal information. How do you know Abel?”

  He took a step back and picked up one of his daggers, twisting it in his hand as though he needed the distraction. “You’re correct. I’m part of his security team.”

  “And Rupert too?”

  He hesitated, then nodded.

  Why would Kieran Abel, who claimed to be an antiquities dealer, need two guards who were almost as lethal without weapons as with them? I suspected he didn’t need much protecting. “Where did he go?”

  “Mr. Abel’s whereabouts are no concern of yours.”

  I picked up Ivy and St. Michael. “Obviously I’m
a concern of his. And yes, I did use my weapons last night. I fought something that could have killed me. Do you need to call him back?”

  He gave me a look that suggested he didn’t appreciate my attitude. I was going to pay for this later.

  “Where is he?”

  “Europe.”

  Europe? I wasn’t surprised. That explained why he felt so far away. But what was he doing there? Given what I’d sensed through our connection the night before, he obviously had some other purpose for being there. He wasn’t just running away from me. “Is he doing anything dangerous?”

  Davis chuckled but didn’t answer, which I supposed was answer enough. He offered me a fresh bottle of water. That was weird since I hadn’t yet finished the one I was drinking. I gave him a cautious look before I transferred both daggers to one hand and accepted the bottle. As soon as he released it, he grabbed my extended wrist and then jabbed his fake dagger into my abdomen with enough force to steal my breath, despite my protective vest.

  Still gripping my wrist in his meaty fist, his eyes narrowed as he stared down at me. “Never trust your enemy.”

  I stared back up at him in defiance. “Are you my enemy, Davis?”

  Surprise filled his eyes before his face returned to its usual impassive state. “In this I am. Don’t forget it.”

  “And Abel? Is he my enemy?”

  “Mr. Abel is no one’s friend. You’d do best to remember that too.”

  Abel was no one’s friend. Why not?

  But I saw an opportunity to strike back, so I jabbed both daggers hard into Davis’s gut, then used a move I’d learned from Rupert to get my hand free and spin away. “And you’d do best not to underestimate me.”

  Davis grinned, mischief filling his eyes. “Duly noted.”

  Then he proceeded to kick my ass for the next two hours until I was a sweaty, panting mess.

  When he declared the session over, I leaned over my legs and struggled to catch my breath, wondering how the hell I’d gotten here. After I’d partially recovered, I stood and turned to watch Davis pack up his gear.

  “Don’t you feel like you’re wasting your time helping me limp along?” I asked, wiping the dripping sweat from my brow.