Page 17 of Kiss of Magic

“I can’t. The mission is secret.”

“She needs to know the stakes. Tell her what you told me.”

Mama was watching them beadily.

“Tell me what? What are you hiding?”

Tala was torn. The Emperor had sworn her to secrecy, fearful that the truth would cause mass panic. But if they couldn’t find Dani, Nush’aldaam was doomed. She made a decision.

“Mama, look at me.” Her voice was soft. “I know you have a reputation as a seer. I know you catch glimpses of the future. Look at me and see if you can glean what will happen if we don’t find this girl. Look at me and see what we’re trying to prevent.”

The old woman pinned her with a black gaze. She stared at Tala, staredthroughher, and her face lost all colour.

“Annihilation?” she whispered.

“It’s one possible future,” Tala agreed.

The wiccan was visibly shocked. She staggered backwards, a hand to her chest. Blake steadied her and helped her behind the counter where there was a beaten-up old chair. She sank into it, clutching at his sleeve.

“It can’t happen,” she said, struggling with the enormity of what she’d sensed. “Not again.”

“We have a shot at stopping it. Are you in?”

Mama Xiaoling had been a witch for many, many years. And for most of those, she’d lived among humans. She’d survivedconflict after conflict; the Boxer Rebellion, Vietnam, both World Wars. Yet she’d never been as terrified as she was now.

She might not live in Nush’aldaam, but she still thought of it as home. And her home was under the most appalling threat imaginable. She looked at Blake.

“Can this witch you’re chasing prevent the demons from escaping?”

“If I can get her to the right place. And if she doesn’t kill me first.”

“Then we have to make sure that doesn’t happen.” The elderly wiccan pointed a shaky hand at the counter. “Basilisk blood. Let’s start with that.”

Eight

“Does it hurt?”

Tala examined Blake’s chest. His right pec was now emblazoned with a tattoo of a black dragon, its wings outstretched and its tail curled about his bicep. Tala thought it looked magnificent, especially against the muscularity of his torso.

Mama Xiaoling had insisted a simple circle would suffice but Blake had retorted if he was going to be inked, it wouldn’t be with a giant doughnut. They’d compromised with the dragon.

“Stung like a bitch while she was doing it, but it’s okay now. So this is going to make me immune to magic?”

“To all weapons, magical or otherwise. Spells and bullets will bounce off you, my friend. At least until the protection fades.”

“How do I know it’s working?”

Without hesitation, Tala drew a knife from the harness on her thigh and spun gracefully. Blake caught the flash of silver as she arced it towards his groin. He hurled himself backwards, knowing he was a fraction of second too late, and braced for pain.

It didn’t come. Six inches from its target, Tala’s knife skittered off an invisible barrier. An unpleasantthrumtravelled up her arm, as if she’d tried to stab a brick wall.

Without pausing a beat, she pivoted and bent from the hip, driving a foot towards the same target. This time Blake was ready. He grabbed her heel a hairs’ breadth from the crotch of his jeans.

“Watch the family jewels, Blondie,” he growled. Tala straightened.

“That’s interesting.”

“What is?”

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