4. Training
4
TRAINING
JADE
“ I ’m nervous about talking with Amira,” I admit to Maxum as we walk up to the main house.
“How so?” His voice is calm and filled with authority, like a hot professor might sound in one of my novels.
“Uh, well, she’s a witch. And probably a powerful witch to be able to protect and ward her vast amount of land. Besides, she doesn’t seem to be overly fond of other witches. I feel like a burden.”
Maxum stops and turns me to face him. I look up into his dark obsidian eyes and sigh. My gaze travels over his crimson skin and horns, admiring what a handsome demon he is. Not that I’ve met other demons, but it doesn’t matter.
He’s my demon. And he’s gorgeous.
His hand cups my cheek. “Amira has an ugly past with other witches, just as our pack has. She doesn’t like being a witch. So don’t take it personally. Learn whatever she can teach you, and we’ll figure out the rest together.”
“Thank you.” I lean into his palm. “It means a lot that you’re helping me.”
His expression turns fierce. “How else should I act? You’re my mate match. Even if you rejected me, I would help you in any way I can. I would die for you.”
My insides melt into goo, and my eyes widen. “You really think we are meant to be? What about my abuela’s warning when I mated with Arran?”
“We don’t know what that was about. And honestly, I don’t care.” Maxum steps closer until I’m flush with his body. He pulls me up by my ass, and I wrap my legs around his hips. “ You. Are. Mine. And no one can tell me otherwise, except for you.”
His lips crash down on mine, and by the time he’s done reminding me I belong with him, I’m panting and grinding on his growing bulge.
“Understand, little witch?” he growls.
“Yes,” I breathe out. Damn, he just erased my worries with a mind melting kiss.
We hear someone clearing their throat, and snap our eyes over to the porch of the main house.
“You going to hump on my lawn all day?” Darius asks with his gruff, gravelly voice.
Darius and Amira are standing side by side. Amira looks slightly amused, and Darius appears his standard irritated. I haven’t seen him with another emotional setting yet.
He must have one, right? I mean, Amira loves him, he can’t be one dimensional. Perhaps he doesn’t let anyone but Amira and Raithe see another side.
Reluctantly, Maxum allows me back down to my feet and gives me a peck on the forehead before swatting my ass as I walk toward Amira.
I throw a dirty look over my shoulder. He’s being a brat in front of them. “You’ll pay for that,” I threaten.
“I’ve already paid dearly for my time with you,” Maxum says with a laugh.
I turn around and try to hide my hurt about that statement. I cost him two of his safe houses, one of which was his special secret home he had hoped to have for his pack. Guilt doesn’t even cover it when I think of what he’s lost since I came into his life. Hell, one could even say Osen’s death is on me. Rob might not have killed him if I couldn’t channel his spirit. And now, we are on the run because Rob and Galiana are hunting me.
Huge arms wrap around my waist and Maxum hugs me to his chest. He leans down and whispers in my ear. “Sweetheart, no. Stop this. I was talking about my heart. You own it now. Don’t blame yourself for the houses. They mean nothing compared to your safety.”
I lean back into his arms and look up into his handsome face. “Thank you.”
He gives me another kiss and Darius grumbles. “Can we bring the public displays of affection down to a fucking minimum?”
With a blush on my cheeks, I pull away and hurry toward Amira so I don’t get lost in Maxum again.
“Morning,” I say to the witch, and we watch Maxum and Darius wander off together around the house.
“Never mind Darius. He likes to give people a hard time,” Amira says.
“I understand why he would want me to leave. I’m a witch invading your territory, and possibly bringing trouble with me,” I add, feeling bad about the whole thing. I didn’t ask for my magic and all this drama. I only like drama in my books, thank you very much. If I could have all the yummy monster love and not be chased around by an asshole ex who wants to magically fuck with my head, then I’d be a happy little witch.
“Most witches and warlocks are a problem.” Amira ushers me inside her home. “If they would drop their prejudice and work with the supernaturals, we might be able to figure out what to do about the loss of magic.”
“Do you think that’s why they are after me?” I ask.
She studies my face and then her eyes lose focus and I suspect she is reading my magic and aura. “Maybe. You have an unusual magic.” Then she motions for me to sit down on a meditation cushion near the large picture window overlooking the rolling forested hills on her property. She takes up the seat in front of me.
“Can you figure out what I am?” The desperation in my voice is clear.
It truly is disconcerting to become the FMC in my story and receive weird powers.
Will I answer the call to adventure?
Well, I suppose I answered the call to monster cock adventures. That hasn’t killed me yet, so I’m on a roll.
“Can you tell me what you know about your lineage? Your gifts?” she asks.
I swallow down my nerves and give her the quick summary. “As I mentioned before, my grandmother told me she was a witch. She implied I would have powers as well. She was odd, so I thought she was playing pretend with me. My mother didn’t seem to have any magic powers, and she didn’t like my abuela saying things like that to me. When I was a kid, I saw what I thought was my wild imagination—auras, monstrous forms under someone’s face, and sometimes energy swirling around me. Then it all disappeared after my grandmother gave me that necklace when I was around ten years old. I was told she died not long after that visit. The only thing that didn’t fade was my strange dreams. It felt like I was experiencing other people’s dreams. It turns out I might have been channeling spirits this whole time. And my ex took advantage of this ability.”
“Yes, your mates mentioned you can channel the spirits of supernaturals,” she says thoughtfully. “I’ve never heard of that ability. It might be why the Anti-Supernatural Organization wants you.”
“Yeah, I have the spirit of my guys’ former pack member permanently tied to me now. But I don’t know how to control this gift, and we were hoping you could help me figure it out.”
“I know some things about channeling, but I’m far from an expert.” Amira frowns. “I’ll share what I know.”
“I also believe I have heard my grandmother’s spirit a few times now.” I bite my lip, feeling nervous to admit what happened. “Uh, when Arran claimed me last night, she said that I made the same mistake she did.”
Amira’s eyebrows rise in question. “So, you’re wondering if your grandmother had a supernatural mate and if you have supe blood…” She nods to herself and says, “That would make sense. Usually, only humans and supernaturals can mate and create offspring. If you have a witch-supe combination in your lineage, that might explain your unique ability. Did you ask her what she meant?”
“She sort of interrupted us during the mating, so I told her to go away,” I admit with a blush.
“Oh, well, yes.” Amira barely suppresses a laugh. “Do you have a process to connect with the spirits? Maybe you should try to ask her about it now.”
“I don’t have a process. It’s one reason we came here—so you could teach me,” I admit. “Do you have any suggestions on how to call on spirits?”
“Being a witch, I’d suggest meditation and some sort of focal object.”
“I had my grandmother’s pendant until we realized my ex used it to shove spirits into my body so he could question his victims after he murdered them.” My hand automatically touches the now empty spot at my throat. “But we left it behind because of the tracking spell.”
Amira watches my gesture and frowns. “I would offer you a focal object for a replacement, but I don’t think you need that—not if supe magic enhances your power.”
“It’s so strange to think I lived almost forty years with no clue that these other realms existed and that I might have magic.”
“Unfortunately, magic isn’t as wonderful as some humans might imagine.” Amira studies her hands as if she is contemplating her power. “I did some terrible things because of magic and my struggle for power—for control. I hope you never have to do something you’ll regret.”
I swallow that comment down with all that it contains. I can tell by the haunted look in her eyes that she’s seen some shit. Maxum told me she is older than she appears. I idly wonder how long I will have with my guys if we can survive Rob and Galiana.
“I’ll teach you some meditations to help access your magic,” Amira says and then guides me through some visualizations.
They are nothing profound, but I expect they will help me focus and center my thoughts.
I’ve used exercises like this before, especially when I first started writing professionally. But over the years, it only takes me sitting down at my computer with my tea to trigger my brain to enter the proper wavelength to write and create.
I realize as I allow my mind to wander that it seems channeling or using magic will probably be similar to my writing process.
I will have to create a mindset or mental space—a trigger—that I can use to access my gifts.
Osen’s spirit vibrates gently, letting me know I’m on the right track with this idea.
At the end of the meditation, I open my eyes and find Amira staring at me.
“Is something wrong?” I ask when she appears a bit disturbed.
“No. I’ve been using this time to study your magic. It truly is odd. I’ve never sensed anything quite like it, but it also feels familiar.”
I hum to acknowledge her statement, but I don’t know what to say. “I don’t need to try now, but I was also wondering if you would know how to release a spirit from my hold. Eventually, I expect Osen will want to move on. Or I might have another spirit try to attach to me.”
“I did some research already in this area. Darius is a high-level hellhound. He said that there are many ways to separate a possessing spirit from a host. One is a complex ceremony mostly used by normal humans, since they rarely have magic. You’re a witch, so there is a spell I have written out for you. However, it may not work since Osen is not a normal human or witch soul. Darius says for the demons and hellhounds dealing with supernatural souls, they use their intent to handle souls. Often seeing a severing in their mind’s eye.”
“So… just imagine it?” I ask.
“Yes, but with intent , with your will and magic.”
“Oh!” I remember the sketch Maxum made. “I have something we wanted you to look at.” I pull the paper out and hand it over. “We’re hoping you can give us an idea of what this is.”
Amira studies it for a while before her eyes snap up to mine. “Where did you get this?” her voice is almost accusatory, threatening . “Where did you see these symbols?”
Instead of answering, I ask, “Why? Is there something wrong?”
“Answer me.”
I can’t refuse her, but I rationalize it won’t hurt me to tell her. She already knows too much. “They were magically embedded in my body. But they’re gone now. They disappeared after I bonded to Arran.”
“Hmm.” She narrows her gaze at me. “Who was your grandmother?”
“Patricia Jones.”
Amira tilts her head and her eyes widen as if something’s clicked into place. “No, not Jones, it’s Rosethorne,” she states confidently and chuckles without humor. “I thought you looked vaguely familiar. I should have recognized you right away, but it’s been a long time since I’ve seen her face.”
“You knew my grandmother?”
“Not well, but yes.” Amira looks back down at the paper but does not really focus on it. “Patricia disappeared around forty years ago, from what I understand.” Her gaze snaps up to meet mine to gauge my reaction. “She was a member of the ASO.”
“How do you know?” I ask, feeling like an ass that my grandmother was part of the witch-warlock organization whose goal is to destroy supernaturals.
Amira must see my disappointment. “I worked with her a few times. She was a powerful lust witch… not that she didn’t have other talents.”
“Lust witch?”
“They mostly used her as a spy .”
Spy likely means she was used as a seductress that slept with targets to obtain intel.
“Does that mean I’m a lust witch too?” I gasp when I realize I’m probably attracting the guys with my powers. Is it why I write steamy romance?
“Powers are often passed down, but I don’t sense that lust magic is what is strongest inside you.” Her eyes seem to lose focus as she gazes at me, like a scryer would over a crystal ball. “No, there’s other magic in you that’s more prominent, and it doesn’t feel like witch magic. That’s why these unusual sigils and your grandmother’s warning about making mistakes concerns me.”
“So you think I’m part fae?”
“Yes, and perhaps something else. As odd as it would be, I suspect you could have some demon in your family tree.” She hands the paper back to me. “If I had my guess, your grandmother was mixed up in a lot of trouble in all the realms. She had someone from the hell realm working with her, if this mishmash of concealment and containment sigils are any indication. It appears to be long forgotten arcane spell work from all three realms, blended to form its own unique casting. Only the creator of this masterpiece or the person it was cast upon would have been able to break it.”
“But then, what was the necklace for if I had this binding on me?” I ask.
“A necklace can be torn away. Besides, I believe the pendant’s purpose might have been more to syphon any magic that leaked out of you, if the sigils weren’t maintained over the years.”
“So my grandmother meant to lock away my magic forever?” Sadness fills me as I conclude my abuela kept part of what I am from me. I’ve been living a half-life because of her.
“Don’t assume the worst,” Amira consoles me. “She might have believed she would come back and train you in your powers when you were ready.”
My heartache and betrayal must be written on my face.
With everything that’s happened, my entire being is suddenly exhausted. “I appreciate your help, but I think I need to rest now.”
“Of course. Your magic is coming in. It will take time to adjust in your body. And if it’s as unusual as I sense, then it might be even more challenging to manage at first.”
Amira hands me a slip of parchment paper with the exorcism spell written in Latin on it and I walk toward her front door in a daze.