In Mage We Trust (Of Mystics and Mayhem Book 1) Read online

  My rose-colored glasses had been pulverized hours ago, and the practical side of my brain took charge.

  Next step? Guess I’d better learn how to fight.

  Chapter 3

  The knife sliced deep and I heard my skin pop, the muscles ripping only seconds before the pain hit. In my moment of inattention, Niki hooked my leg, taking it out from underneath me. From my new position—flat on my back—I stared into the laughing eyes of my new training coach. I forced my face to remain expressionless, but inside I cringed at his ghoulish grin. Although the longer I spent with him, the less I noticed his repellent appearance.

  Yesterday, I would have puked. Maybe he was growing on me, a very unsettling thought.

  “Get up,” he wheezed. “That’s the tenth time I’ve hit you. If you don’t pay closer attention, you will die.” He stepped back enough for me to stand.

  I modified my last thought. I wanted him to die again. I inspected the cut and found a pale, thin line of skin but no open wound. I loved this new perk. As I straightened, I brought my own knife up and out, letting my anger and frustration fuel my swing. My unexpected move caught Niki by surprise. He tried to avoid the strike; however, I was faster. Evidently, I had a bigger issue with losing than I thought, because my thrust held more strength than usual, and the knife slid into his abdomen.

  “Oh, shit,” he hissed, leaning over the hilt.

  “What? Isn’t this what you wanted . . . no, demanded from me?” I reached out and pulled the knife from the wound, ignoring the sick suction sound as it popped free. “Suck it up, ya big baby.”

  I turned and had taken a couple of steps when, trying to stop, my feet slid out from underneath me. I fell on a scraggly patch of grass as my dad tore past me. I whipped back around in time to see Niki fall to his knees, his hands pressing against the open gash in his stomach.

  With his last flying step, my dad threw an aura of white magic around the zombie like a bubble. The sparkly cover glittered as light glanced off its surface. Niki didn’t seem to like it either because he reared back, falling to the floor with a loud howl.

  My mouth dropped open.

  I couldn’t move, peering closer as he twisted around like a dying fish on the broken tiles, his erratic movements tearing out patches of the skanky, dead stuff growing between the cracks. Finally, he stopped moving, but his lack of motion bothered me even more. If a dead person could look deader . . .

  The few pieces of grass and moss remaining between the stones now poked out around his head, reminding me of a peacock’s tail. If I wasn't so worried about him, I might have found this new look of his amusing.

  My eyebrows drew together as his skin changed, the mottled gray fading and the texture turning darker, healthier. I closed my eyes, but they popped right back open. His skin’s impersonation of month-old gravy looked worse a moment ago. My gaze skimmed his body and noticed even more changes. His clothes now hugged his hips and heavily muscled legs instead of hanging on him like a potato sack. The black jeans fit like a glove. I pushed back my rising irritation, my eyes narrowing into slits, as I glanced back and forth between Niki and my dad.

  Something was rotten, and I didn’t think it was all Cheesehead.

  My father’s hand glowed a soft yellow as it hovered about an inch over the nasty-looking wound just above Niki’s waistband. The edges had already turned black and crispy. I grimaced. Well, that couldn’t be good. An orange goo oozed from the center and, as the yellow light faded, so did the goo.

  Dad said something, the words strange and flowing, reminding me of the sound of water. I closed my eyes, listening to the relaxing tone until it stopped. I blinked my eyes open to find Niki gone. I took off after my father’s retreating backside, jogging to keep up as he hurried into Mom’s mausoleum. I chased after him, not recognizing any of the hallways he turned down. Before practice, I’d learned the hard way how easy it was to get lost. The house truly was bigger on the inside than the outside.

  Hesitating, my foot hovered above the threshold of the room where Niki lay on a bed as still as death. I tried to shake off my nervousness, forcing my feet to move across the room and sit in the only chair, which, thankfully, was comfortable.

  I listened to my dad’s deep muttering while he shook something shiny over the still-gaping wound.

  Guilt washed through me. “Can I stay or do you need me to leave?” I whispered, my neck muscles tightening. My chest ached and I rubbed my knuckles over the sore spot above my heart, not understanding what was happening.

  I stared at Niki, willing his cool yellow eyes to open and glare back at me. I’d never intentionally hurt anyone before. My exterior might be gruff and full of quills, but what people saw on the outside wasn’t me on the inside. I even apologized to mosquitos after smashing them because they’d bitten me.

  ~ ~ ~

  I jerked awake to a pulsing silence. Listening to my father’s incessant chanting had put me to asleep. I enjoyed the room’s peaceful solitude until my mind focused again on what had happened. What I’d accidentally done.

  Leaning forward, I gently lifted one edge of the somewhat clean bandage covering Niki’s stomach and peeked underneath. The wound had almost healed; its sealed edges were puckered and red. I fell back in the comfortable chair with a thud. How could one small knife do so much harm? None of the other cuts I’d inflicted during my training session had made him flinch.

  I picked up the cup of water sitting on the small nightstand beside me. I didn’t understand any of this. Why me? Why had my crazy grandfather targeted me? Evidently, my parents weren’t much better. I pondered over what I’d been told and still felt some of the anger and resentment simmering. My dad had used me, and no matter how many excuses I gave him, it pissed me off.

  Fathers were supposed to treasure their children, not perform a medical experiment on them and hope everything turned out right. Dad had done it out of fear and love, so the angel on my shoulder told me to give him some slack.

  And my mother . . . how was I supposed to wrap my brain around her story? After finding out she sacrificed her mortal soul for me, I was just supposed to accept it and move on? But, she still had her immortal soul, the devil on my other shoulder whispered. I pinched the bridge of my nose as my anger grew. No mother I knew of would willingly leave their child alone, pretty much scrounging for crumbs every day to survive. Even with the money Dad provided, it had never been quite enough, especially when I’d had to use it to buy clothes as I got older.

  I couldn’t even say I had friends whose mothers felt sorry for me. My life had been even more pathetic. Strangers had pitied me, giving me handouts and spare change for an occasional burger.

  “Darling, if you twist the cup any more, it will never go back to its original shape. And it’s one of my favorites—part of a set.”

  My clenched fists immediately relaxed as Mom’s words registered in my worried brain. I glanced down at the cup cradled between my palms. What had moments ago been a heavy silver goblet now resembled a deformed pretzel. My hands jerked and it flipped from my hands, landing on the thick, blue rug with an almost silent thump. The silver twist unwound and popped back into its original shape.

  My stomach flip-flopped. “Mom?” The high, shaky voice sounds squeaking from my mouth were totally unacceptable, so I cleared my throat and started again. “I’ve seen some pretty strange things in my life. Why do they seem to be getting worse?” I held my hands out in front of me and stared at the chapped skin. At the base of each finger were raw calluses from learning how to wield the sword. “I don’t understand any of this.”

  My mother perched beside me on the arm of the chair and pulled the rubber band from my messy hair. She finger-brushed the long strands and made a tsking sound with her tongue. “You need to put lotion on your hands. And a good deep conditioning treatment for your hair would be a smart thing eve
ry now and then.” She continued brushing back my hair, the gentle tugs relaxing. Thankfully, she couldn’t see me rolling my eyes either.

  “Happy birthday, Johnna. I wish this were a regular birthday with cake and ice cream and presents you don’t need, but it’s not.”

  “I haven’t had one of those since you left. Wouldn’t know what to do with it anyway—I don’t have any friends to invite.”

  Mom’s fingers tapped against my head, and I winced with each poke. If her fingernails were any sharper, my scalp would look like a pincushion. I wished she’d return to the gentler brushing.

  She sighed, her fingers stilling, then resumed wrapping the elastic band around my hair as if I’d never said anything. “I could tell you today is a wonderful turning point, and the rest of your life will be one fun adventure after another. I can’t. Destiny has given you a different path—one, I’m afraid won’t be easy. The only advice I can give you is to remember who you are. I am so very proud of you. You’ve turned into a strong, young woman who also happens to be half Erinys and half demon mage.”

  “I sort of understand the Erinys part. The demon mage, on the other hand, is new. What is it?” I asked worriedly. The mage part didn’t sound too bad, but the word ‘demon’ created havoc with my blood pressure.

  “Calm down before you give yourself a stroke. You aren’t going to turn into a demon. Your father’s not a demon either. A mage is a high wizard and very powerful. You know, like Merlin and Harry Potter. When your father came into his talent, he became a mage for the demon court and as his talents increased, he moved up in station. He is the head mage for King Lucien, whom he’s known since childhood. They’ve been best friends for centuries.” Mom’s smile should have comforted me. It didn’t.

  My blood pressure kicked into high gear again. “Please tell me you didn’t say centuries?” Surely, she exaggerated . . .?

  “Mmm-hmm. You would have transitioned to the immortal realm when you received your powers. Because of my idiotic father-in-law’s stupidity, we couldn’t wait until you turned twenty-five. Your dad found a loophole in the age rule and with Niki’s help, used it.” She leaned forward and laid a dainty hand on Niki's bandage for a few seconds then pulled her hand back to rest in her lap.

  “Demons. Boy, and ya think you know a person.” I shook my head, staring at Niki’s face, focusing on his full lips. “Okay.” I pulled my gaze away, disturbed I even stared at him for so long. “So, how does Max fit into all this?” Instead of looking away as I’d intended, I stared at the steady rise and fall of Niki's chest while I waited for Mom’s answer.

  “He’s a mage like your dad but on a different power level. His power is weaker. Personally, I think resentment has driven him to this point. After you were born, he disappeared for a while—never would tell us where he’d gone. When he returned, he seemed different. He’d changed from a normal, embittered old man to completely unbalanced.”

  “What about my grandmother? What happened to her?”

  She shrugged. “We never knew who she was—or is. Because of your father’s level of power, we could only guess she had power too. Your dad only knew she’d abandoned him after his birth.”

  “Oh, Daddy.” My heart clenched, wishing I’d known all this sooner. My vision blurred, sorrow for my father filling my chest. I understood how he felt. Did it excuse him for leaving me? Not really. At least now I understood why. “How could he leave me like he did when he knew how it felt?”

  “You’ve been a good daughter, Johnna, never doubt that. Considering the baggage he’s had, you’ve been very patient. We were always near—as near as we could be. You were never really alone. You always had someone watching over you.” Melodious and soft, her whispered words gentled my chaotic feelings.

  “I begged for food a couple of times. I also got a job at the library, helping to re-shelve books.” I narrowed my gaze thoughtfully as I stared at her pinched lips. “One day, I found a hundred-dollar bill under my cell phone. A week later, another one showed up in my jeans pocket. From then on, I found them every week or two. Dad left them, didn’t he?”

  She nodded, her blue eyes blazing as her fair skin turned a dark pink. “You begged for food? And worked—at a job?”

  “Yes.” I laid my hand over hers. It felt good to get rid of some of my resentment. After seeing my mother’s reaction, I also believed her when she said she thought I’d been taken care of. I wished I could do or say something to show her how much she’d been missed.

  “I missed you too.” Mom caressed my cheek with the back of her hand.

  I twisted to face her. “Okay, that’s unnerving. Do you read minds too?”

  “One of my few gifts, yes.” She frowned as she studied my wide-eyed gaze. “You said ‘too.’ Who else is reading your mind?”

  I shrugged. “I think Niki can. I will catch him looking at me. Something in his eyes makes me think he’s laughing at me, like he knows what I’m thinking.”

  She leaned forward and kissed the top of my head. Standing, she motioned toward the door. “Go on. Get something to eat. Your father is waiting for you in the training room. He’s going to begin your magic lessons until Niki is well enough to finish the combat part.”

  I headed for the door but stopped, my fingers digging into the smooth wood of the frame as I hesitated. A small part of me was afraid if I left, she’d disappear again. Not to mention all the questions I still had piling up in my brain. “Mom, what makes you think I have magic? I don’t know any spells and haven’t made anything go poof.”

  Mom’s laugh tinkled like a wind chime, filling the room with happiness. “Poof? Really, Johnna. Your mind is so refreshing. You’ve used your magic several times already.”

  I stared at her with my mouth hanging open. I so didn’t believe a word she said.

  “How do you think you bested Niki so fast?”

  “I don’t know. Lucky shot? I thought I’d surprised him. Besides, he’s only a zombie, how powerful can he be?” I gripped the doorframe, a reluctant twinge in my gut. Something told me my words would come back to haunt me. Even now, I knew he wasn’t just a zombie. I simply couldn’t quite put my finger on what it was about him . . .

  “I think he would agree about the surprise part.” Mom’s tone turned cryptic. “The other? I’ll let him explain when he feels it’s safe.”

  She twisted in the chair a couple of times, like I always did, trying to find the most comfortable spot, and I turned to leave. My mother’s soft voice interrupted my crowded thoughts. “Johnna? Do you still have the necklace I gave you when you were little?”

  I pulled the silver chain from under my shirt, rubbing the charm between my fingers, and turned to face her again. “I’ve never taken it off.”

  She grinned and pulled an identical necklace from under her own top. “Good. Your necklace was a gift from your grandparents—my parents, as mine was. The charm holds a protective spell. As long as you wear it, you can’t be killed.”

  My eyebrows drew together. “Wait a minute, that can’t be right. Technically, Niki did kill me, so why didn’t it work?”

  “It did. You weren’t completely dead. Niki put your soul in a kind of limbo until he gifted you part of his soul. He never tried to hurt you, Johnna. His only goal was to save you. The charm was spelled to know the difference.”

  Amazement shot through me. “Wow. Immortal technology rocks.”

  Mom chuckled. “Go make yourself a sandwich before you find your father. I’ll take good care of Niki.”

  ~ ~ ~

  Niki

  “You can open your eyes now, Niki.”

  I hesitated but obeyed Sabine and met her blue gaze. Their brilliance seemed to bore holes through my head. “How did you know I’d awakened?”

  “When my daughter said it felt like you were laughing at her thoughts. Your lips twi
tched.”

  Remembering Johnna’s apprehension, I grinned. The longer Sabine stared, the more uncomfortable I grew and my smile faded.

  “Niki, what is it? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you quite so . . . well, bothered before.”

  I looked away, not wanting to see her expression. “Johnna’s my true mate.” Even to my own ears, the words sounded harsh and resentful. It wasn’t what I felt, at least not deep down. I also knew nothing good would come of having a mate. Not with all the problems surrounding her. She deserved a happier life than she’d had, and I couldn’t give it to her.

  “How can you be so certain? There hasn’t been a true mating for demons in a millennia. Not even Lucien’s father had been true-mated to Giselle. Could it be from the soul sharing?”

  I shook my head. “I felt the pull of her soul even before I placed my soul next to hers. The moment I stared into her eyes, my heart was complete. I felt whole.” I scrubbed my hands over my face, wishing I could reverse the zombie spell. The gloppy skin itched and drove me crazy. Not to mention the filthy clothes I had to wear to complete the persona smelled worse than a demon sewer.

  Sabine grabbed my hands and held them between hers. “This is fantastic, Niki. A demon mating . . . Gerard and Lucien will be overjoyed.”

  I scowled at her beaming face. “I don’t think overjoyed is quite how they’ll react. Especially Gerard. I’ll be lucky if I don’t become a real zombie when he finds out his daughter is my true mate—friend or no.”

  She gestured dismissively. “Oh, pooh. He only wants the best for her. And to keep her safe and alive, of course.” Her smile widened. “You are the perfect choice, Niki. You have the power to keep her safe. You will also love her, which is just as important.”