Page 113 of Last Gift: Supernatural Battle

My magic.

Someone had set it alight. They hated me that much.

Tears slipped down my cheeks. I didn’t care who saw them.

Wild’s arrival was like a cool breeze. He strode to the fire and extinguished it with a crushing motion of his hand. Steam and black smoke continued to rise up, the perfect cover, because if there was a time to expect my demon to show from emotion, it would be now.

“I will stay hidden,” she whispered to me. “Do not fear my smoke and scales.”

It wasn’t her I feared.

“What happened?” Wild snarled, and I could feel the restraint in his anger. “Who did this?”

Someone stammered, “I-It was burning when we arrived, sir.”

I lifted my head, then pushed to my feet and turned. “And why did no one put it out?”

I saw the answer on their faces as soon as I faced them.

Like me, horror had struck them immobile. Or they’d seen that the quipu was too far gone when they got here too.

“I’m so sorry, High Esteemed,” one of them whispered. “Who could do such a thing?”

Most magus in this coven might not understand why my magic chose this form, but all magus could sense magic. Magic was a gift from the Mother and often presented itself in unique ways. To burn magic was to spurn her gift.

“It’s an abhorrent act,” another said in equal shock. “Surely not one of our own.”

I had an exact idea of who—or who gave the order to others anyway. When I’d made my quipu general knowledge, I’d inadvertently given Frond an idea of how to weaken me. One he hadn’t taken until the coven decided to favor me again.

Wild planted himself between me and the sentries. “They took advantage of the sentry change—knowledge our coven has access to. The alarms didn’t go off, so this wasn’t done by demons. I don’t believe your quipu was known to our guests either.”

Unless the original coven sent them. But no. My gut told me Frond was behind this. He’d just taken our ploy for the coven to the next level. He was willing to hurt me to get what he wanted. He’d hurt my magic. The Mother’s magic.

I’d never expected an attack of this kind.

“What do you want to do?” Wild said low, stroking the back of his hand across my cheek to dislodge a tear.

The easiest course would be to summon a recount in the room. Unfortunately, while the deceased were fair game for such things, this coven had laws that protected the privacy of its members. If I wanted to summon a recount of this evening, then I’d need permission from the entire coven. Which could be an option—in that those who refused would clearly be to blame. “Get rid of the smoke. Until our guests are gone, this remains a confidential matter between those in this room.” Our new supporters couldn’t guess at the real level of division in the coven. We may lose their support if they believed the situation had become dangerous from a demon and magus perspective. “Once they’ve departed, we’ll find the culprit.”

Wild dipped his head, then faced his sentries. “News of what happened doesn’t leave this room. The high esteemed will handle this attack on her magic in her own time and way. Respect that.”

“Yes, sir,” they murmured.

“This is her pain,” another added. “We wouldn’t dream of it.”

I wouldn’t have dreamed of this happening, though, and from one of our own. Frond had gone too far. The urge not to storm to his quarters and demand the truth was hard to cage.

“We will slip a dagger in his spine when he least expects it,” my demon purred within.

I was usually a stab from the front kind of gal, but for Frond I was willing to make an exception. Between the shoulder blades sounded fine to me.

For now, I stared at the smoldering remains of myself on the wall.

Wild wrapped an arm around me. “The person who did this will feel pain.”

“Get in line,” I murmured.

“I was already on my way here, after the sentries called me in. They didn’t say what was burning, but then I felt your pain.” He sucked in a harsh breath, then said in my ear, “I’m going to squeeze the life from him.”

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