15. Capturing Spirits
15
CAPTURING SPIRITS
JADE
A fter my nap, Arran joins me in taking a long shower. He dotes on me, shampooing and conditioning my hair and scrubbing my back. He doesn’t fool around… much. He must worry that if he gets too frisky, then Serky will break through and take over. Or perhaps he’s just trying to be a caring mate and not make everything about sex.
I could see how that could easily happen with a pack like this. I’d enjoy the hell out of it, but I need more. Deep conversations, laughter, and being there for each other in any way that we’re needed.
Arran shuts off the shower, and we towel ourselves dry before slipping on some workout clothes.
In the living area, Flint has a glass of water and fruit and nuts waiting. “Eat. You’ll need your strength.”
As I finish the snack, I ask, “What do they have for me today?”
“Maxum has asked Darius to help,” Flint informs me as he gazes out the window. “If you have some demon soul magic, then he’s the one to identify it and guide you.”
I walk up next to him and stare out the kitchen window, watching Maxum and Calder chat with Darius in the clearing between our cabin and the main house.
The hellhound is still a bit scary to me, which makes me chuckle. That’s what I’m afraid of? But my bunch of monsters are no biggie. Perhaps because I feel the connection between us. I have no sense of Darius. I doubt he’d try to hurt me, not while Amira’s blessing of sanctuary holds.
Though I can’t say he’d spare me another thought either way if we were to meet as strangers on the street. If anything, he might kill me just for sniffing out my witch blood.
“You’re not wrong,” Osen agrees. “He only has kindness in his heart for his mate and mate brother. He tolerates Maxum because he likely reminds him of the positive aspects of their homelands.”
Squaring my shoulders, I head out to join them, with Flint and Arran following behind me. Raithe and Amira come out of the main house to meet us.
“The gang’s all here,” Raithe announces happily, with a playful clap of his hands.
This phoenix is a sunshine to Darius’ grump, although I don’t think they’re an item as well. And I suppose Amira’s disposition lands somewhere in the middle. I make a note to write something like this in the future… if there is a future. If I ever have time to write again.
Le sigh.
I hope I find a way back to my passion for writing smut. I mean, I have all these guys to test out all the things. It seems selfish to not share my research.
But first, kick some magical ass.
“Maxum tells me you tugged on their souls,” Darius says, narrowing his fiery eyes at me. That isn’t a metaphor. He has flames blazing right out of his eye sockets. I’ve seen Maxum and Calder with what looks like fire behind their eyes, but this is full on roasting my marshmallows level fire.
Damn if this dude doesn’t make me shiver with nerves. What if he doesn’t like my answer?
I don’t think he would try anything with my guys all around.
Swallowing my anxiety, I answer with a small voice, “It was an accident. I was in a moment of pleasure, and I wanted them closer.”
Darius grunts, sniffs, and tilts his head, studying me. “I can smell it more now. Demon blood. High born.” He flicks his gaze at Maxum and says, “She’d be too good for you if she weren’t a mutt.”
“Hey!” I snap.
“I wasn’t trying to offend you.” Darius waves me off.
“I don’t care what you say about me, but I won’t have you putting Maxum down.”
Maxum pulls me to his side and kisses the top of my head. “Thank you for defending my honor, just remember you’re talking to a fancy pants fire puppy.”
Darius chuckles or at least that’s what I think he’s doing. It’s hard to tell.
“If you pulled their souls, then you have a magic similar to mine. I can take a soul out of a body and then release it beyond the veil. You may be able to do something like this. Or perhaps what you did earlier was actually siphoning their life force.”
My face and arms go numb. I stand stock still, panicking.
Is that the magic that Galiana and Rob were stealing from me and used to kill Osen? Did I almost murder my mates?
“Can you tell if I hurt my pack?” I ask, terrified to hear the answer.
“I don’t sense any damage.”
Relief fills me. I need to be fucking careful until I know what I’m doing. Maybe I should lay off getting laid. I could rip the soul out of my partner with a big O.
I’m a cumming black widow.
I hug my arms over my chest.
Maxum rubs my shoulders with his huge palm, and he comforts me. “It will be okay. This is why we are out here… to figure it out.”
“But how do we figure it out without hurting someone?” I demand, snapping out of my paralysis.
“I’m here,” Darius reminds me. “I can help you return a soul to its body if you start to pull it out.”
“But what if I’m siphoning their life force?” I throw my arms in the air, ready to walk away and never use my magic again.
“I will see that and immediately alert you to stop.” Darius steps closer. His hellhound nature is right on the surface. His skin is dark gray like charcoal with cracks that reveal lava like fire underneath his fur. His flaming eyes narrow in on me.
I gulp, but somehow stand my ground.
“All you need to do is do what you did before, and I will identify your ability. You need to know, so you then can use it properly. And I’d like to go about the rest of the day.”
I wonder what the rest of his day might look like, but I’m pretty sure it has something to do with his mate. I get it. I’d enjoy being with my mates, too.
“Okay. I’ll try.”
I shake out my shoulders, and Darius steps back to give me space again.
“Target me.” Maxum turns me to face him.
“Why you?” I ask.
“Because I’m more akin to Darius.”
I hear an omission in his tone. He doesn’t want me to yank on one of my bonded mates, or further injure Calder. That only makes me more nervous since he expects shit to go wrong. I tilt my head back and stare at the blue sky, trying my best to keep my wits about me. This is no time to lose it.
Recalling how I felt when I tugged on their souls, I focus on bringing Maxum closer, needing him. Wanting him to be part of me.
Energy swells around me, and I give him a tug.
Maxum lurches forward.
Darius barks, “Release him!”
I let go of the thought and energy. I fall backward, expecting to land hard on my ass. But Flint has me around my waist and keeps me upright.
“Well?” I demand.
“You’re a soul sucker.”
I choke out a laugh. “Well, I’ve been called a lot of horrible things, and that actually is one of them,” I joke. I have to make light of this, otherwise I might collapse into tears. I don’t want this kind of power. I could hurt my guys.
“It’s not a bad thing. I have this magic,” Darius explains.
“She’s worried about hurting us,” Flint says, likely reading my mind through our bond.
“Now you know what it is. You can control it.” Darius shakes his head, confused. “I don’t see what the problem is.”
This guy has the emotional intelligence of a brick.
“Remember, she’s new to magic,” Amira says. “Not all of us want the responsibility over life and death.” There’s a heaviness to her words. She’s had to make that decision in the past and regrets it.
“Hmm.” Darius eyes me. “Doesn’t matter if you like it. That’s what it is.”
I huff at his dismissive behavior. But what do I expect? “Fine. Tell me what I can do to make sure I don’t hurt an innocent.”
“I don’t recommend calling their souls to you,” he states simply.
“No shit.” I grump.
Darius sighs wearily. “If your magic activates, and when you feel the tug, release your hold. Or if you want someone to die, pull harder and rip them from their mortal coil. With a thought, send them through the veil.”
From what I’m gathering, supernatural magic is mostly innate. Instinct guides them. He makes it sound so easy.
Human born witchcraft often sounds more involved with spells or focal objects.
“What about my fae side?” I ask.
“From your magic display when we were in hell, it seems you’re an electric mage,” Maxum says. “Most fae-born mages come from Elven and human matings.”
“And that’s where a lot of the supernaturals come from, such as vampires and shifters,” Arran adds.
“And the incubi and succubi, among other species,” Osen chimes in.
My head swirls, thinking about my lineage. I thought I was a plain ole human, but nope. I have DNA that comes from three different realms.
Who were my father’s parents? Are they alive even though they may be centuries old?
There’s so much I don’t know. Sure, I’ve briefly traveled through the fae and demon realms, but what are their towns like? The people? I only have a limited picture from what my guys have told me and from Osen’s memories. Yet his memories weren’t much for daily living and seeing the cities and populations.
Will I ever be free to visit and travel to these places? Will I ever meet my father or perhaps distant relatives?
“What is the extent of your electric magic?” Amira asks, breaking my mind’s wanderings.
“Uh.” I look at my hands. “I threw a ball of energy at a hellhound that was chasing us and about to bite Calder.”
“With no spell or training?” she probes.
“No. I just wanted to protect him, and boom—lightning fingers.”
“With that affinity, you may have the ability to drain the power from a mortal’s building,” Raithe says appreciatively.
“Or restart a heart,” Arran adds. “If an electric mage is strong enough, they could affect the weather.”
Flint steps closer and strokes his thumb over my cheek. When our eyes meet, I know he’s sensing my chaotic thoughts and worries. “Heartstone, can you call upon that gift now?”
“All I can do is try,” I say with a shrug. “What should I target?”
“I recommend holding your hands out in front of you about a foot apart and try to form a ball between your palms,” Amira offers. “But if you have to throw the energy, then aim for the lightning rod over the hothouse.” She points to a small building near the tree line.
Maxum and Flint both step back to give me space. And Arran moves out of my path to the rod.
I ground my feet shoulder’s width apart and hold my hands in front of me.
Electricity. Where to start? Is it as simple to summon as throwing a switch in a house? Or do I have to feel my people are being threatened to call upon it?
I concentrate on the space between my palms. I imagine a ball of energy glowing blue and white, since that’s what magic looked like when I threw it to protect Calder.
My hands begin to itch. Encouraged, I focus harder, thinking about zapping the fuck out of Rob. Then Galiana.
A flash of light explodes from my hands.
A chorus of curses surrounds me.
I blink to see properly again and fortunately my accelerated healing repairs my eyes quickly. “Is everyone okay?” I ask with a wince.
Glancing around, I see nods and find everyone blinking as I am.
“Needless to say, you’ll need to work on that,” Darius grumbles. He turns and saunters away, throwing an offer over his shoulder. “If you have more soul questions, I’ll answer them after you get a handle on your fae magic.”
I’d growl at him if I thought it’d do any good. But he’s probably right. I need to figure my shit out.
Why isn’t it as easy as in books? Why can’t I just wave my hands around and be the biggest badass magic wielder around?
I need a montage!
Then the words that I’m a ‘ good-for-nothing loser’ ring in my head, in my sister-mother’s voice and in Rob’s.
Why can’t I instantly disregard all my emotional abuse and trauma from my entire existence? Why can’t I get over my insecurities? And why can’t I accept the kind words from strange, sexy monsters when they tell me I’m amazing?
Okay, I’m handling that last one better than I thought. But I have enough life experience to know my emotional hang-ups will rear their ugly heads occasionally.
I’ve been alive long enough to know I’ll have days when I’m feeling vulnerable. Because the scars and effects of abuse don’t just completely vanish because the source of the pain is gone. Even when the new people in my life are wonderful.
But I know with my guys at my side, any trauma will be easier to move past and conquer.