Night Witch (Weatherstone College, #2)(87)

We needed Paisley. I needed her. My existence was tied irrevocably to the beautiful reaper. I was nothing without her, and my singular focus was getting between her and this fucking council.

Spellcasters circled me, another new group, and as I readied myself to blast them, Elder Florence shouted, “Kill her!”

I remembered nothing else as my magic detonated, slamming everyone in near vicinity to the ground. If I’d been at full strength, that would have crushed their skulls, but today, all I could manage was a nasty concussion.

Calling on air to wrap around me, in both shielding and transport, I lifted myself over the crowd, while using earth to fracture the stage again and send more of them below. Utilizing multiple elements at the same time was one of my strengths, and even with waning energy, I was faster and more skilled than most here.

I’d had to be to survive Rafael and be strong enough for my girl.

Paisley deserved the strongest partner, and I would not let her down.

I caught sight of her from across the stage as Monroe dragged her limp body, slamming her head against the edge of a chair. Sending lightning toward their backs, I tried to shield her through our bond, but I was running on fucking dregs of power.

Air faltered beneath me, but I pushed on, determined to place myself between the council and Paisley.

If one of us had to die here today, it sure as Hel wasn’t going to be her.

A powerful fire elemental stepped up behind her as I closed in. My winds swept others out of the way, but I hit a wall when I got near him. The council was shielding the fire elemental with everything they had.

Through our bonded link, Paisley was so weak I could barely feel her. Where her icy magic usually resided, there was a blue flame. It clouded my mind as I landed just in time to fall between the fire elemental and Paisley.

Right as he released a blade of burning metal. My weak blast of water diffused the fire as intended, but the edge remained sharp and true as it crashed into Paisley.

I was too late.

The blade sliced through her neck, and I grabbed her in time to see the light fade in her perfect face. A thunderous roar filled the room, and it wasn’t until every window shattered, filling the hall with glass, that I realized it came from me.

No. No, please goddess. Fucking NO!

Not Precious. The fucking reason I got up every morning and survived the torturous years with my unhinged father. Not the one piece of good in this fucked-up life.

As I held her to my chest, covered in her blood and my tears, an unnatural calm descended over me. This was followed by the eeriest silence as my power sent such a shockwave through the room that even the monsters were calm—the remnants of the bond which hadn’t quite died in my chest yet allowed me to stand with her body against mine.

I already knew I’d be following her into the next existence—there was nothing here for me now—but before I went, everyone here was going to pay.

I would take the entire magical world with me.

Purgatory monsters had nothing on a spellcaster without his bonded mate.

As I tilted my head back, my rage rose until conscious thought was gone and I was a living, breathing force of wrath. The cries from students grew louder as I drew on the energy of the world, of the universe, in a way we were forbidden as spellcasters.

To end it all.





Paisley


It was dark in my place of death. A drifting of the tides of time, moving from my birth and subsequent life-journey, toward the end, which came far sooner than I’d ever expected. I had no substance, a soul without a body, as mine had been destroyed.

Without a body, I didn’t feel the cold, but as I drifted, I sensed that my surroundings were beyond icy.

Why am I drifting?

Was this the normal pathway to the Eternal Lands? Or was I judged evil, to never find peace within the final plane? The living world remained close to my soul as I dwelled on the mess left behind, and I was surprised to find that I hadn’t quite cut my ties with my former life.

Logan. Pain bloomed like newly released magic in my soul. It burned in a way I wished I could die from all over again.

The urge to return to him crushed me in its grasp, and if there were an ability to make noise here, I’d have been screaming.

When a stream of fiery ice appeared before me in blue waves, surrounding whatever remained of the darkness, it drew me closer until I was bathed in its illumination. My magic thrummed to life with me even in death, and I was once again soundlessly screaming in the vacuum.

I could feel other magic around me.

Other reapers.

Paisley . . .

I heard the call as loudly as if it were shouted into my ears, which was impossible because I no longer had those.

Our sister.

It was a chorus of voices, nearly deafening in its intensity.

We are reapers. Your sisters. Our power is a collective.

Their words were a concerto of layered voices, combined with a magic that called strongly to my own.

We drew forth the beasts to devour dark magic. We kept the planes from colliding in a cataclysm of power. We had an important role to play in the magical world and they destroyed that. You are the last of our kind. We cannot let you fall, or everything falls.

The blue flashed, and with it, a scene appeared in the flames. I recognized the buildings immediately . . . I was looking at Weatherstone College. Only, it wasn’t the prestigious college I was used to seeing. Instead, its decaying walls dripped with a pulsing darkness that appeared to be devouring the very material used to build the grounds.