Magical Mistakes(39)

“Touch him and I will end you,” Mikayla vowed.

Rouke looked at her in surprise. “You?” he asked, a mocking smile on his lips. “Little girl, you don’t want to play with me.”

“Even demons don’t mess with witches if they value their lives,” Mikayla replied.

As Rouke strode toward her, she cast her hands out to her sides. “Fire, fire burning bright, I call thee to my aid this night,” she chanted. Balls of flame burst to life on her palms. With a cry she hurled the flaming weapons at her enemy.

Rouke howled in pain as the fire scorched him. He tried to bat the endless stream of fireballs from the air but he could not escape the torrent of flame.

Leaving Ciar kneeling on the ground, Mikayla advanced on Rouke. She struck out with her magic, never letting him escape her volley. Rouke cursed as his vest caught fire. He tore the garment from his body and flung it to the ground.

“Neat trick,” he growled, dodging a fireball. “But fire doesn’t do much against knives.” Grabbing two daggers from his belt he threw them at her with unerring accuracy.

Mikayla dropped to the ground to avoid the blades, but she wasn’t fast enough. One dagger sank deep into her shoulder before she could twist out of the way.

She hit the ground with a cry of pain. Warm blood stained her white shirt as dark rivulets ran down her arm.

“Mikayla,” Ciar hissed, pushing himself unsteadily to his feet.

“Vines rise and come to me, tangle round my enemy,” Mikayla called, slamming one hand against the ground.

The earth rumbled around them. The look of triumph vanished from Rouke’s face as the ground broke apart beneath him. Thick roots shot from the earth and wrapped him in a crushing hold.

As he battled her magic, Mikayla stumbled back to Ciar. Her left arm was almost completely numb which, given the amount of pain she should be in, was probably a blessing.

“What new trick is this?” Ciar demanded.

“You broke the spell. This is the backlash,” Mikayla said. “You should be back to normal in a few minutes.”

“I seriously doubt we have that much time,” Ciar replied. Before them Rouke fought against the vines holding him. He hacked at the plants with his knives, desperate to be free.

Mikayla drew a deep breath. “Okay, then I’ll have to finish this.” Never in her life had she used her magic to purposely hurt anyone, but if she didn’t do something soon they’d all be dead. It was up to her. Ciar caught her hand when she tried to step forward.

“Mikayla,” he breathed, pulling her back to him.

She fought against his hold. “We don’t have time for this.”

“Stop,” he commanded her. “You can’t do this.”

“Someone has to.”

Ciar shook his head. “Listen. I may not be the biggest fan of your magic but I know very well you could never kill anyone.”

“I can to save us all.”

He smiled slightly. “My champion, eh?”

“Let go, Ciar. We’re wasting time,” she replied, tugging on her arm.

Rouke slashed out against the vines. He’d managed to free one arm and was clawing ever closer to escaping Mikayla’s trap.

“Mikayla, this is not your fight. It’s mine. Rouke is a Clan Lord. Do you have any idea what would happen if a witch killed him? Not only would you have a clan of demons gunning for you but your sisters would also be in the line of fire. Depending on the rage of the clan, it could even escalate into a demon-witch war. You can’t be anywhere near this.”

She swallowed hard, fear racing down her spine. “I have to help you,” she argued.

Ciar laughed softly. Leaning forward, he pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. “Ah, my witch,” he murmured, “you have no concept of how much you already have.”

Before them, Rouke had almost broken completely free. Only one ankle was still trapped by the vines.

“Help Alina,” Ciar commanded, his eyes on his cousin. “And do not interfere, no matter what happens.”

Mikayla wanted to protest but she knew how stubborn her lover could be. “You get hurt and I will kill you,” she hissed at him before grabbing his neck and forcing his lips down to hers.

It wasn’t a goodbye kiss, full of sentimental longings. Instead she summoned up her magic and forced it from her body into his. Mikayla had never tried to transfer her energy this way. She didn’t know if it was possible but skin-on-skin touch was a powerful connector. It was a gamble, giving up her strength with an enemy so close, but this was Ciar. A man she loved, and more importantly, one she trusted. Completely. If they had a chance of coming out of this alive, he would need every drop of strength she could spare.