Page 40 of Of Bone and Ash

“You’re not trying hard enough,” the voice mocks me as I grind my molars in frustration, my secondary magic itching to come to the forefront and help. My magic starts to shift, taking on the oily blue color of my Demonic magic and I inhale sharply, ready to use it if need be. I’m just about to let it loose, knowing I’ll easily break free when the voice starts talking again. “That's better,” the voice croons, making my heart stall in my chest. “Use everything at your disposal, little Reaper. How else will you finally be free of the binds that hold you to the Fae world?”

Binds me? Is it talking about its magic that currently has me trapped? Red magic circles around me; it's warm, brushing against me like a lover's caress. I shiver despite myself, leaning into the warmth as the foreign magic shifts, weaving with my Reaper magic, twisting together and sparking red. I expect it to jerk away once my magic touches it, but it only circles it again, twisting so thoroughly together that my blackish-blue magic appears like more of a braid, weaving with the red and black magic attacking me.

I watch in confusion, shaking my head as I watch the impossible. Not even Ryland’s magic can twist so thoroughly with my own without causing him pain. The feeling of fingers trailing down my spine has me stiffening, but when I try to look behind me, a band of magic winds around my throat, cutting off my oxygen.

Shit.

I try to inhale, but my airways are entirely closed off, and I can already feel my heartbeat quicken in response.

“There is no need for violence between us, Serafina,” the deep voice whispers, and I grit my teeth. How does this fucker know my name?

This time, I feel hot breath on the back of my neck, the fingers at my back dancing up my spine before hot, thick fingers wrap around the back of my neck. I can hear my heart in my head, the lack of oxygen slowly making panic rise to the surface, but I shove it down, focusing on the burning pain in my lungs as I tighten my grip on my scythe.

“You and I are more alike than you realize, two sides of the same coin,” the voice continues as a large body presses against my back. If I could breathe, I would have sucked in a shocked breath at the physical touch. Not used to having someone so close to me since I tend to hurt or kill anyone who gets too close. “One born, one created.”

Slowly, the air around me calms as our magic settles into a blanket of power, swirling in the air around us. It keeps us covered in a small bubble as bright sparks of red and blue illuminate the space inside. My attention is still locked on my magic, which has become surprisingly docile, while my mind races in panic and wonder.

My magic is calm. Almost at peace. How the hell did this foreign magic do something I have tried to accomplish for years?

“Look how beautiful we are together,” the voice… no, the man says, his thumb at the back of my neck moving in soft, almost soothing circles. Which only confuses the fuck out of me since the man is currently strangling me with his magic.

Speaking of which, my head is starting to spin, and I think I’m only a minute or so away from losing consciousness. Some of my Demonic magic is twisted in with my Reaper magic, but the main reserve is still free and at my disposal. Grabbing the oily blue magic at the center of my chest, I throw it at the man behind me, making him cry out in surprise and stumble back before he falls on his ass several feet away from me. I can feel his own magic respond, releasing my Reaper magic to defend himself as I gasp, my burning lungs filling with air.

“Stupid… mother… fucker is going to die,” I rasp to myself as I try not to stumble as his magic finally releases me enough to move.

My arms slip free of the strong bands as I swing my scythe and sever the red-black magic around my body. Spinning on my heel, I brace myself to come face to face with whatever monster is stalking the forest, only to blink in shock at the man pushing himself back to his feet in front of me.

Cold gray eyes meet my own as a wicked smile turns his pink lips up, showing bright white teeth that look slightly pointed. His square jaw is covered in a dusting of black facial hair that looks more like a shadow than an actual beard as his pink tongue darts out, licking a drop of blood from the side of his mouth. I follow the movement, noticing how his bottom lip is split, and I can't help but smirk, feeling oddly satisfied that I drew first blood. Though he’s going to suffer much more than that for trying to strangle me.

“That was unexpected,” the man admits in his smoky, deep voice. His gray eyes, which are almost black, flick up and down my body, taking his time to study me as I arch my scythe in a circle behind my back. He runs a hand through his tousled black hair, smoothing it back into place as he watches me with keen eyes. “Oddly enough, I’m not mad about it,” he admits, crossing his arms over his chest as he smiles, arching his brow in amusement.

The guy is wearing simple black clothes, with belts of weapons strapped to his thighs and waist, making him look like some kind of mercenary. Not at all what I pictured the monster would look like.

“Who are you?” I rasp out, inwardly cringing at how rough my voice sounds. The man studies me, his smile still firmly in place.

“Does it matter?” he asks in response. I shake my head because no. It doesn't matter. If this is the guy killing the girls from Silverwood, then he’s going to die. A pretty face and weird magic won’t save him from that crime. “Didn’t think so,” he chuckles, taking a step forward and holding a hand out toward me.

I can feel his magic build around me, and I bring my magic close just in case he tries to attack. After a moment of uncomfortable silence and nothing happening, I take a step back and look around. Is he trying to distract me? Is there someone else here that is about to attack?

“Serafina,” he whispers, bringing my attention back to him, not liking how odd it is to hear my name on his lips. He wiggles his fingers at me expectantly, and I almost laugh.

Does he think I’m going to take his hand after he fucking attacked me?

“What?” I ask, making his charming smile slip as he looks down at his hand and then back at me in confusion. “You can’t be dense enough to think I would willingly take your hand,” I add, amused as his face falls, darkening into something I’m more familiar with. Anger.

“Interesting,” he rumbles. His hand, still held out in front of him, balls into a fist before it falls to his side. This time, when he looks me over, it's with an intensity I don’t like, and I shake my head.

“Are you the one killing all the girls?” I ask, my fingers squeezing the handle of my scythe as the man takes a step toward me. “Stop,” I snap, not wanting him any closer than he is now.

He’s only ten or so feet away from me, too far to reach with my scythe but close enough that he could easily lunge forward to attack. He doesn't listen, muttering something I can’t understand under his breath as he continues his forward pursuit. I take a step back for his every step forward, my magic dancing excitedly at the chance to take a life.

“Stop!” I demand, warning him once more, licking my lips as my eyes fly to the steady pulse at the side of his thick throat. He’s closing the distance, and this time, I don't step back but forward. I warned him. He chose his fate.

Reap. Kill. Destroy.

My magic spirals, making my heart skip a beat as I lift my arm, spinning my scythe, the blade glowing a shimmering blue as I bring it down on the man, aiming for his neck. The man lifts his arms in defense, but nothing can stop his fate now. Just as I brace myself to collect the man's soul, my blade comes to a jarring halt, my arms quivering at the sudden stop as it clashes against the gleaming black blade of the scythe the man now holds in his hands.

My lips part in shock, and my gaze fixates on the intricate and detailed swirls etched into the blade of the black scythe that's locked with my silver one. Then I look up at the man now standing in front of me. He’s tall enough that I have to tip my head back to look him in the eye, and I growl under my breath at the victory I see in their cold depths.

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