Magic Hunter: An Urban Fantasy Novel (The Vampire's Mage Series Book 1) (6 page)

R
osalind walked down the hallway
, pausing just after the portrait of Lord Byron dressed in some sort of orange turban. She knocked on the oak door, trying to figure out what she wanted to say to Caine.

She’d have to enlist his help to get the mage out of her body, but she couldn’t ask him about the exorcism here. Even the gargoyles were probably spying for the Vampire Lord.

Was Caine really any better than the vampires, just because he was human?

As his footfalls crossed the floor, she half wanted to turn around and run back to the serial killer suite.

Caine pulled open the door, his hair disheveled and wet, like he’d just stepped out of a bath. Droplets of water beaded on his bare chest, and her eyes lingered on his muscled body. Tattoos covered his flawless skin: constellations, a raven, a moon cycle, and Angelic script.

Washed clean of blood, he now wore only his black jeans. She tried not to stare.

For the first time, she saw a flicker of a smile. “Rosalind. It seems the only thing that can rob you of your formidable powers of inquisition is the sight of me without a shirt on.”

Cocky bastard.
Why had she come here? She couldn’t remember anymore. She just needed to keep her eyes on his face. “You’re not my stepbrother, are you?”

Gods.
Why
had she just said that?

“Why? Is your delicate mind troubled by impure thoughts?” He leaned against the door frame, his gaze slowly trailing over her white gown, like he was memorizing every curve of her body. He smelled amazing—a fresh scent, like the earth after a rainstorm. “Don’t worry. The vampires wouldn’t begrudge a little brotherly love if that’s what you’re looking for. Unlike the Chambers, we don’t judge here.”

“Oh, please. First of all, that’s disgusting. And second of all, you’re not my type.” She clamped her hands on her hips. “Can you just answer the question? Ambrose said something about a familial connection. I don’t like the idea of being related to a man who’s been completely corrupted by magic.”

“I knew your parents, but we’re not related. In fact, they would have been horrified by the thought. I was merely part of their experiment. When it didn’t go as planned, our relationship was over.”

“I see.
If we’re not related, why did they imbue you with an extra soul, too?”

“They wanted to make sure the spell worked before they tried anything on their own flesh and blood.”

It was hard to decide the worst thing Rosalind had learned tonight: her exile from the Brotherhood, the mage in her body, or the fact that her birth parents were a couple of assholes. She couldn’t take any more shitty news without completely losing her mind—assuming she still had a mind to lose.

She couldn’t reconcile Caine’s description of her parents with her happy memories of her early childhood, even if they were vague. “I don’t understand. I thought my parents were loving. I remember when they gave me flowers and patched up my knee. And I think I remember you. There was a boy with eyes like yours.”

“I’m sure you were happy. But things aren’t always as perfect as you remember them.”

She hugged herself. “We get out of here soon, right?”

“Yes. Before the sun rises. Aurora can’t travel in the light. Go to sleep, Rosalind.” There was that commanding tone again. “You only have three hours of rest before we move.”

But she knew she wouldn’t be sleeping at all. Not in the serial killer room, and certainly not with the news that a crazed spirit had infected her body.

R
osalind jolted upright
, gasping for breath. After their rapid departure through another portal in Lilinor, they’d arrived in Caine’s Salem apartment, twenty miles north of Boston.

When you hung around with creatures of the night, sunrise signaled bedtime. Now, the sunset streamed through the windows, washing the living room and kitchen in pumpkin light.

Despite its warmth, she shuddered, wrapping Caine’s blanket tighter around her shoulders. She’d been dreaming of Mason. Her nightmares were no different from her memories. In her dream, he’d tied her to a chair, beating the bottoms of her feet with his leather belt, all the while ranting about corruption.

As if staying in a mage’s apartment weren’t bad enough, reminders of Mason had brought her out in a cold sweat.

It was so obvious to her now: Mason had known about the possession all along. It was why he’d always been so repulsed by her. When she’d first arrived, he’d started off reasonably nice—warm mugs of cocoa to warm her in the cold mansion, letting her watch TV as long as she wanted. But then he’d catch her drifting off, losing herself in thought, and something about her dreaminess made him angry. She understood now—it was the mage inside of her. He wanted to beat the magic out of her.

She straightened, pushing the blanket off her to survey the room. For a tattoo-covered mage who lived among corpses, Caine kept a surprisingly tidy apartment. Oak bookshelves, packed with alphabetically arranged poetry and spell books, lined one wall. Midnight-blue sofas stood on the bare wooden floors, and the tall windows overlooked one of the old colonial cemeteries, where the setting sun cast long shadows over the grass.

Four silver-framed mirrors hung on the rough stone walls. Of course he had four mirrors in one room. The guy obviously loved himself.

Rosalind glanced down at herself. The white dress Aurora had given her was crumpled from sleep, and her long hair was tangled into knots. She looked like a disaster, and she tried to smooth out her tangles

Footsteps sounded behind her; she turned to see Caine, his hair gently rumpled from sleep. He wore an undershirt that showed off his athletic form.

She had a bad feeling that the only way to get this mage out of her body would be through powerful magic—the kind that Caine had—except the Vampire Lord wanted her to remain possessed. Ambrose had some sort of big plans for her. What was the likelihood of Caine defying him?

She’d have to tap into his anti-authoritarian nature.

“I hope you slept well,” he said. “Might as well get comfortable for a while since you’re apparently staying here.”

“I slept fine.” There was no way she’d be staying, but she’d wait a moment before bringing that up. “I take it you’re not thrilled about having me here.”

He leaned against a granite countertop. “As it happens, I have better things to do than to train a novice Hunter in the dark arts. Especially a noble-born girl who will go into hysterics every time things get a little difficult.”

Arrogant prick.
Everything about him irked her. “That’s fine by me, because I’m not actually going to train with you. I’ll be out of here as soon as I get… everything sorted out.”

“And what do you expect to sort out? Do you have a plan now? Or still just a desire?”

Her stomach rumbled. How was she supposed to come up with a plan with a stomach this hollow? “I have a strong desire for some food.”

“I don’t keep the house well-stocked. I’m not exactly the cooking type. When Aurora gets up, we’ll go out somewhere.”

“Is she your girlfriend?” Rosalind asked.

He arched an eyebrow, crossing to the living room. “No. Interesting that you asked though. I seem to recall you saying I’m not your type. I’m not sure that I believe you anymore. You’ve now inquired about our family affiliation and my relationship status.”

She failed to suppress an eye roll.
The ego on this guy is unparalleled.
“You’re probably glamoured, just like my Guardian said. Under your demigod facade, I’m sure you look like a beast.”

He flashed a half-smile. “Is that so?”

She flushed. Why did he make her so nervous? She usually made men
nervous, not the other way around. “It’s basic witch-lore. Magic pollutes the body and turns humans into monsters.”

“Demigod, was it? Tell me, what is the most impressive part of this beautifying spell I’ve woven? Do you think I did a better job on my face or my body with this—demigod spell? I’d really love to hear more.”

Her stomach fluttered.
Shit.
Josiah hadn’t been wrong about the disfigurement, had he?

She gritted her teeth. “Please tell me it’s a spell. Because based on the number of mirrors around this place, I’m a little worried about what would happen if your ego grows any bigger than it already is.”

“Can you blame me for loving something that’s so—demigod-like?” He cocked his head contemplatively. “That phrasing is unwieldy. Let’s shorten to
godlike
.”

“If self-love had mass, yours would create a singularity that would warp space-time and destroy the universe.”

“Has anyone ever said you’re charming when you talk about science?”

“No.”

“Unsurprising.” He folded his fingers behind his head, in all likelihood trying to give off the best view of his muscled arms. “If you don’t believe me about the glamour, why don’t you spray that purgator dust on me? If it’s a spell, you’ll see the real me. The demonic, twisted Caine that lurks below the surface, warped by magic.”

“Since you have an aura, the dust will burn you.”

“I can handle a little pain.”

“Anything for your vanity, right?”

She snatched her purgator dust from the coffee table, pausing for a moment at the self-satisfied smirk on his face. This would hurt—a lot. What if the agony flipped a switch in his brain? He could slaughter her in an instant.

Still, maybe now was a good time to practice that whole fear-mastery thing. She had to get used to hurting the bad guys.

She strengthened her resolve and pushed the button. Shiny red dust poured from the canister, coating his skin. A flicker of pain registered on his face, though in reality he must be withstanding indescribable pain. All this to prove to her that he was pretty.

And, gods damn it, he was right. The guy was stunning, and it wasn’t because of magic. She sucked in a breath. “Fine. We’ve established that you’re not deformed.”

He brushed the dust off his face. “I think we agreed on the term ‘godlike’.”

Rosalind wanted to hide her face. This was mortifying.

As the last of the sun dipped below the horizon, Aurora strode into the room, clad in a tight silver dress. “What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing to Caine, Hunter?”

“It’s fine,” Caine said. “I asked her to do it.”

Aurora crossed her arms. “I don’t even want to know.”

Caine rose, visibly trying to manage the pain. He soaked a kitchen cloth in water and began cleaning himself off. “Would you like to help me clean off my body, Rosalind, since you’re such a fan of my godlike physique?”

Gods, kill me now.

“I’ve walked into something really weird, haven’t I?” Aurora said. “Please don’t tell me you fed his ego.”

With the dust washed off him, Caine smiled. “Our Hunter has spent a little too much time among the impure, and now she fancies a bit of shadow mage. Her mind must be corrupted like ours. Funny. I wouldn’t have guessed a follower of the True God, not to mention one from lofty Maremount nobility, would be so easily warped. I suppose, in the face of godlike beauty, a little lust is only to be expected even in the purest of creatures. I wonder how far we can take that.”

She shielded her eyes with her hand.
What an ass.

She needed to get out of there before she gave in to temptation. The longer she stayed around Caine, the harder it would be to piece her life back together, to resume her life among the Brotherhood.

If such a thing was even possible at this point.

“
S
peaking of becoming corrupted
,” Rosalind said. “I’m not letting you train me. I want to get this mage’s soul out of me. The Brotherhood can’t blame me for something that was done to me when I was a child. Once I have this thing exorcised, I can get out of your life.”

“Uh-uh,” Aurora said. “Ambrose said Caine’s going to train you. So that’s what’s happening.”

“You can’t force me to learn something,” Rosalind said.

“Actually, he can,” Aurora snapped. “He has mind control abilities.”

“I’m not going to hypnotize her,” Caine said. “She’ll go along with it willingly. What other options does she have?”

“Actually, I’m not going along with it,” Rosalind said.

Caine stared at her. “Don’t be ridiculous. You’re completely irrational.”

“I’m
irrational
? I just learned that I’m possessed by a lunatic spirit. I think it’s perfectly rational to want it exorcised.”

Aurora’s face was stony. “You think the Brotherhood would take you back, after you spent time with us, using Caine’s magic?”

“I’m still human. Humans have rights.” Maybe the vampire had a point, but Rosalind couldn’t even consider that option. She had no life outside of the Brotherhood—no future. “None of this has been my fault. I was only a kid when this happened. I have to make them see that. I don’t want to be here, and you don’t want me here. If you help me with the possession, we’re done with each other for good.”

As the room darkened, Caine chanted a spell to light the candles in the iron sconces around the room, then folded his hands behind his head. “You must understand that your actual guilt isn’t the point. The Brotherhood convict whoever they want. Sometimes it’s demons and witches, and sometimes not. Look outside the window. You can see where they pressed Giles Corey to death with a load of rocks during the Salem Witch Trials. The old man had never looked at a spell book in his life. Did that stop them? No. They had their sights set on him, so he was dead.”

“He actually deserved it,” added Aurora. “Not for being a mage. He was just an arsehole. Apart from that, Caine has a point.”

“That wasn’t the Brotherhood.” Rosalind wanted to clamp her hands over her ears. It couldn’t be true. The Brotherhood had to be certain of guilt, or it meant they’d been interrogating innocent people—even
killing
captives, according to Caine. The blood rose to her cheeks. “The Brotherhood know what they’re doing. I’ve committed my life to them. I belong with them.”

Caine arched an eyebrow. “The Brotherhood won’t dig too deeply into extenuating circumstances. Any hint of magic is enough for them to stoke the flames of your funeral pyre.”

“You’re wrong,” Rosalind said. She needed to remember what Josiah said. Mages would do whatever they could to mess with your head.

“They’re barbaric,” Aurora countered.

Rosalind’s temper flared. The demons would love people to think that good and evil were merely subjective concepts with a whole lot of gray area. “
We’re
barbaric? And what about you? I found a severed hand in your room last night. You drink human blood.”

“So? Hunters drink inhuman blood,” Aurora shot back.

“What are you talking about?” Rosalind asked.

“The ambrosia you drink,” Caine said. “It’s made with the blood of furies, kept as slaves against their will. You do worship a god of blood, you know. Honestly Rosalind. It’s almost like you don’t know anything useful.”

“Why do you think vampires are so keen on Hunter blood?” Aurora asked. “Lucky for you, it fades fast, or I’d be taking a little nip from your wrist.”

“And speaking of barbaric,” Caine said. “Let’s not forget that the Brotherhood have reinstated burning as a punishment for witchcraft.”

No. They’re lying.
The Brotherhood didn’t touch humans, and she’d never heard anyone talk about burnings or blood drinking.

Her mind was racing now. The mage had already muddled her thoughts, trying to lure her to the dark side.

She had to remember the pictures Josiah had showed her, the ravaged and burned bodies of the mages’ victims. “Forget about the blood. Your people—vampires, mages, demons—they slaughter humans like prey, just for sport. You both know it. Look at what happened in Boston. Mages rampaged through a high school. They shot students with arrows. Burned them to death. For what?”

Caine nodded. “There are some sadistic mages out there. I won’t deny that.”

Somehow, this admission felt like a victory to Rosalind.

“Too bad the Brotherhood never manages to actually catch them,” he added, “since they’re always too busy murdering doddery old widows.”

Rosalind had to stop herself from throwing the canister of dust at his head. Of course he was just screwing with her mind, but everything he said seemed to strike a chord. It was getting harder to believe the Brotherhood only went after the bad guys, when they were so busy chasing
her
down.

It was as though her whole future as a Guardian had just gone up in flames, even if she knew Josiah was looking out for her. “Whether or not the Brotherhood will take me back, I can’t live with this mage inside my head. It’s like having an invader in my own body.”

“Some people would be thrilled to have that power, you know,” Aurora said.

Rosalind didn’t even want to think about the crushing, raging agony that had pierced her mind when Ambrose ripped off the ring. “What if the ring doesn’t stay on me forever? What if someone pulls it off again, like Ambrose did? I was in hell.” She shot a glance at Caine. “You understand, right?”

“Oh, I understand.” He traced his finger over his lower lip. “But you need to get over it.”

Arrogant prick.
“And what exactly happened to you? What went so terribly wrong that my parents cast you off into the streets? You obviously lost your mind. Did you kill someone?”

Caine’s body went still, and his eyes darkened to deep, black pools, as deep and vast as the cosmos. Shadows swirled around him.

At the sight of his pitch-black eyes, panic hit her like a fist. Caine wasn’t just a mage. He was a
demon
, and she’d just pushed him into attack mode. Dread clenched her heart, and for a moment, she thought she saw the ghost of dark wings unfolding behind him.
His predatory, midnight glare whispered into the darkest parts of her mind,
run.

A moment later, his eyes cleared, and he rolled his neck.

She clasped her hands together to hide the shaking. She couldn’t let him see her fear, even if she’d just come within whispering distance of death.

“I can’t take any more of this,” Caine said. “If I have to listen to her talk every night, I’d just as soon face the wrath of Ambrose. I want her out of here. Now.”

Rosalind clenched her trembling fingers. Maybe she’d gone too far.

Aurora’s eyes bulged. “You can’t be serious. You’re going to defy Ambrose?”

Caine’s eyes flashed like storm clouds. “If I have to listen to her carrying on every night and asking me stupid questions, I’m going to murder her myself.”

“So you’re handing her over to the Brotherhood?” Aurora asked.

Caine shot Rosalind a cold look. “I will get you the information you need for your exorcism, and then you need to leave. I don’t want to see your face again. Do we have a deal?”

Still rattled, she lowered her voice to steady it. “I swear on my honor as Hunter.”

Aurora snorted. “Hunter honor. That’s obviously bollocks.”

“I’ll take what I can get,” Caine said. “And then we’ll send her back to the people who want to kill her if that’s what she really wants.”

“You’re acting crazy,” Aurora said. “What if she tells the Brotherhood all about us?”

He stared out the window at the cemetery. “I’ll erase us from her memory.”

Rosalind didn’t like the sound of a supernatural lobotomy. “I don’t want you to erase my brain.”

He leveled his icy gaze on her. “That’s the deal. If you want the exorcism, take it or leave it. I can’t risk you running back to the Brotherhood to tell them where we are. Even you must be able to understand that.”

He had a point. “Fine.” She didn’t trust him, and didn’t know what he might find in there. Maybe she could slip away just after the exorcism.

“You’re both insane,” Aurora said. “I’m going to make sure Ambrose understands this was done against my advisement.”

Rosalind let out a long breath, still trying to hide the raw fear she’d felt at the sight of Caine’s black eyes. “Is there some spell you need to find, to get this mage out of me?”

“This is beyond even me,” Caine said. “We’ll need to find the sybil.”

Rosalind stood. “Great. Where do we find this sybil?”

“I don’t know,” Caine said. “But Jorge will. He’s a vampire who runs Salem’s blood bar.”

“The blood bar is the only part of the plan that I can get behind,” Aurora said. “Because I’m a little cranky before I have my evening drink.”

Caine eyed Rosalind’s outfit. “But you can’t go in there wearing that virginal white dress. They’ll eat you alive.”

“Literally,” Aurora said.

“What am I supposed to wear?”

Aurora looked her over. “I’ll take care of the outfit.”

Great.
Not only were they muddling her mind, but she was going to start dressing like them, too. “Is that really necessary?”

Caine narrowed his eyes. “Unless you have a death wish, which I’m starting to think you do.”