Chapter 14

ANITA

Istifle a groan, feeling like I just had the shit beaten out of me. As much as I wanted to protest being coddled, I couldn't move even if I wanted to. Though I wouldn't admit it out loud, being in Soren's arms is peaceful, something that's sorely been lacking in my life.

It could easily become addicting.

The idea is so scary that I struggle to sit up. Relying on anyone is a good way to get them killed. The thought of anything happening to Soren has bile rising in my throat. I flail around for a second as my body struggles to obey my commands.

Taking pity on me, Soren sets me in his lap with gentle hands, my back resting against his chest for support, and I release a silent breath at not having to be separated from him yet.

That's when I realize I'm very much naked in front of them.

Again.

It's becoming an annoying habit.

Being naked is natural. Normally, I'd brush it off. It happens often enough that I usually just walk out and grab clothing. Yet something about the intense way the guys stare at me makes me feel vulnerable and exposed, and I don't like it.

What's worse, the clothes Porter provided were destroyed when I lost control. They weren't anything extravagant, but they fit like they were made for me.

For one glorious second, they made me feel beautiful.

Now they are gone, and I can't help but mourn the loss. It's more than just the clothes, it was the thought behind them.

It's been a long time since anyone even bothered to put in the effort to do something that would make me happy.

As if sensing my insecurities, Porter releases his shadows. They swarm over my legs and skate up my body like a caress. I shiver at the intense cold, expecting them to feel slimy. Instead, they make my skin tingle everywhere they touch. It should feel invasive, but they are like a salve on a burn, and I sigh when they cover my oversensitive skin.

Looking down, I watch the shadows thicken until it looks like I'm wearing a wispy dress. The darkness shifts like it's moving in a breeze, but the dense fog keeps all the important bits covered.

A blush heats my cheeks, and I have to clear my throat before I can speak. "Thank you."

Without my flames to keep me warm, the air feels chilly to the touch. It's been so long since I've been without my fire that I'm not used to feeling normal temperatures.

I'm not a fan.

"What happened?" Darby crouches in front of me, concern digging deep grooves around his mouth. He hesitantly reaches for my hand. My skin is so cold that his warm fingers almost burn. Feeling my shiver, he wraps his hand around mine, rubbing it as if to get warmth back into it.

I avoid looking at Cassius, waiting for his taunt that he knew I couldn't handle working with them. It galls me to admit it, but maybe he's right. I stepped right into that trap.

To my surprise, he remains suspiciously silent.

Which only makes me feel worse.

"A dark curse was performed on the body," I mutter more to myself than anyone else. Curses are performed so rarely that few people recognize them. Once cast, curses take on a life of their own.

They are almost sentient.

They want to live and will do whatever is necessary to survive, not to mention that they're notoriously hard to banish once cast.

I know because my family likes to dabble in the forbidden.

"Dark curses are dangerous and illegal for a reason. If done incorrectly, and you skip even the smallest step, the curse will rebound on the caster." I jerk my head up and study the guys, suddenly worried the curse might have attached itself to them too. I expect to see their skin to be a chalky gray as their magic is siphoned away, killing them slowly.

When their skin retains its healthy hue, I release a shuddering breath, then I look anywhere but at them, hating that I feel so exposed. "When I got close enough to the corpse, the remnants of the magic must have sensed me. It triggered a trap, one that reactivated the curse. It was trying to latch onto me. Whoever cast the spell is fucking strong. I can normally burn black magic and curses away, but it's almost like this one was created specifically for me."

I shake my head to get rid of that crazy thought, but when I look at the guys, their grim expressions have my gut twisting into knots. Soren stiffens, his body like a rock beneath me, and a menacing rumble vibrates from his chest. His arms slip around my waist, and I suddenly find myself crushed against him once more.

I should protest that I can take care of myself, but even I have to admit it was a close call. If Soren hadn't helped, I'm not sure I would have been able to hold off the curse for much longer. The thought of being infected with black magic sends a shiver down my spine. I cast a look over my shoulder at the corpse, then swallow hard.

That could have been me.

Soren reaches up and grabs my chin, forcing me to look away from the mangled mess of what once used to be a human.

I'm sucked into his dark eyes. Streaks of silver slice through the darkness, and I'm immediately captured. "That won't ever happen to you. I won't let it."

I swallow hard at the ridiculous urge to cry and give him a hesitant nod, actually believing him. May the gods help us both.

"Why attack you and not one of us?" Porter gazes around the crime scene with narrowed eyes, searching for what he missed.

I find myself doing the same.

Again and again, my eyes are drawn back to the corpse. I wiggle out of Soren's embrace, much to his grumbly annoyance, but Darby doesn't release his hold. He helps me rise, then steadies me when I stagger, my legs still wobbly from the attack.

I give him a grateful nod. When I would have released his hand, he tightens his grip and takes a step closer, claiming a spot at my side. "What do you see?"

My eyes immediately return to the body strung between the trees. It takes a moment before I finally register what's been bothering me, and I can't stifle my gasp. I don't take my eyes away from the corpse, hoping I'm wrong. "At the other crime scenes, were the bodies devoid of magic?"

Porter gives me a look that clearly states that he's questioning my sanity. "They are dead bodies. When a person dies, their magic dies with them."

I shoot him an annoyed look. "That's not what I asked. Even a dead body still has decaying magic left behind. While it might no longer be workable magic, you can still sense their magical signature."

I glance back at the corpse, tilting my head as I scan him again. "So why can't I sense any magic? Like, none at all? It's as if the curse cracked open his body while he was alive, then sucked the magic out of him. His magic was gone before he died."

The guys each whip around to look at the victim again. After a moment, Cassius curses, while Porter scowls and glances at the others. "How the fuck did we miss that?"

Soren steps closer, sniffing the area, and I barely resist the urge to yank him away. Though the curse is gone, the stench of dark magic still taints the air, and I don't like having any of the guys near it.

Darby pulls out his phone, the thing nearly large enough to be a tablet. Magic rises from his skin, and my mouth drops open when the screen of the tablet begins to scroll with massive amounts of data that I have no hope of reading—all without touching the screen.

No wonder Darby doesn't have any tech grafted to his body. He doesn't need it. He's powerful enough to connect to devices with his mind alone. His magic crackles like static against my skin, the sensation like butterfly kisses, as if his magic is curious and trying to read me. I remain still, not wanting to scare it away. He's so focused on his task, I don't think Darby is even aware of it.

"She's right," Darby says, a furrow between his brows as he studies the data. "No magic has been detected on the bodies at any of the crime scenes."

Stealing magic is illegal and considered murder by most.

We can't live without some form of magic. Maybe we could have in the past, but we're too reliant on it now. Without that spark, our bodies are just meat suits with no one at the helm. The reverse is true as well—magic without a body to contain it turns wild and feral.

Most people are repulsed by the thought of stealing magic, not out of any delicate sensibilities, but because the process is brutal.

No one has ever successfully harnessed wild magic.

Without the ability to tame it, wild magic is akin to a feral animal and will rip you apart from the inside out, so while some people are always desperate for more power, the risks just aren't worth it.

Many families have stories of people who tried it in the past and failed.

It's one of the few crimes where the MID agents are allowed to be executioners.

"Since there is only one body, does that mean someone has successfully figured out how to extract magic?" I shiver, very much feeling like a person just walked over my grave. If my family ever discovered that secret, the world would never be the same again.

No one would be safe.

"We would've been able to track the magic if someone managed to take it." Soren's gaze lands on me, and his expression turns harsh. "We're assuming that it's a trap, but why didn't it trigger when one of us neared the corpse? Why here, and why now?"

The answer is obvious—me.

"I'm the only variable that's different." When no one denies it, my lips tighten. "How could anyone have known I would be with you today? We didn't even know it until this morning."

Soren takes a step toward the corpse, sniffing the area. His nose crinkles like he stepped in a steaming pile of unicorn shit, but he doesn't stop until he completes a full circle around the body. I resist following him, staying on the sidelines and watching him closely. My body is tense, ready to jerk him away in case the magic is triggered again.

When he comes to a stop at my side, I release a shuddering breath. My muscles slowly unclench, and I don't even try to stop myself from reaching for his arm and pulling him farther away from the danger. Then, I reluctantly peel my fingers off his arm, needing to be ready in case something else happens.

If someone thought they would take him from me, they would have to deal with me first.

I might be weakened, but I'm not helpless.

"Things don't add up." Soren scowls down at my hand like it mortally offended him. Looking me right in the eye, he picks up my hand, then places it back on his arm, daring me to remove it again. Only when he's satisfied does he continue to speak. "The magic didn't react to us, just Anita. What if it wasn't a trap, but leftover magic from the curse?"

Everyone's attention turns toward the corpse, then back toward me, and I barely resist the urge to step away. Porter tips his head, his eyes narrowed in concentration. "You think she and the victim have something in common?"

"Her bloodline," Cassius says slowly, a grim set to his features. "Her bloodline is different from ours. That's what triggered the curse. It's the link we've been missing."

"Darby, pull up the reports on the other cases. Check the victims' profiles." Porter rubs a hand along his jaw, his hard eyes never once looking away from me as he issues his orders.

"That makes no sense," Soren protests, his chest puffing up. "I have more demonic blood than her. Why didn't it trigger when I stepped close?"

I grimace, feeling the noose around my neck getting even tighter. "But I'm not the same as you, am I? I'm both demon and mage. What are the odds that there are more of us out there? What if we're all being hunted and killed?"

As Darby consults his tablet, his scowl deepens, and his fingers practically punch through the screen. "Every one of them just came into their powers. They all died within a week of their twenty-fifth birthday."

His hand drops to his side in defeat, his eyes shattered when he looks at me like my fate is sealed.

I plant one hand on my hip and flash him a crooked smile. "Stop acting like I'm already dead. A lot of people have tried and failed to murder me. In case you didn't know it, I'm kind of hard to kill."

He nods slowly, determination hardening his features. "We'll stop them before they can get to you."

It's both a vow and a promise, and my heart warms at his pledge.

I almost believe him.

"We need to find out why they want your magic. What abilities do you gain on your birthday?" Porter looks at me like I would know the answer, but I can only give him a baffled shrug.

"As far as I know, there were no known demon-mage hybrids until now." I glance at the body and swallow hard at the thought that I could be next. "What if demons began making deals with mages twenty-five years ago? Maybe they created us with a purpose. We need to discover how many deals were made, then maybe we can figure out what they want with us."

I glance at Darby, but he's already shaking his head. "There aren't enough data points for me to check. There are millions of people born a year. We can cut it down by excluding beastlings, but that still leaves over half. It's not like they put ‘demon' on the birth certificate."

Not willing to give up, I purse my lips, going over what little facts I do know. "What if the killers are demons coming to claim their part of the contract? They deal in dark magic and curses. If we can figure out what they want with us, then we might be able to stop them."

"Demons have no use for mages, especially in the demonic world." Soren immediately dismisses my suggestion. "Your magic would be virtually useless in the underworld."

"But what does a demon want most?" Cassius asks the group at large. "The only way they can gain access to this world is through possession. Thankfully, that only allows them to have limited access to their full powers. If they push too hard, they burn through the body and kill their host."

I'm already shaking my head at what he's implying. "Because we're part demon, you think they'll be able to possess us without the limitations of a normal body?"

Cassius stares at me, not looking any happier at the prospect. "It's a possibility we can't dismiss."

Porter glances at the victim still dangling from the trees, his eyes narrowing as he studies him, and everyone else follows suit.

I can't get over the impression that we're missing the obvious.

Without looking away from the corpse, Porter speaks over his shoulder. "Darby, compare the images from the crime scenes with images from bodies killed by possession."

No one says a word as Darby lifts his tablet.

He swallows hard, the lines around his eyes deepening as he takes in the images, and I want to slap the device away, not wanting him exposed to so much death. Just as I take a step toward him, his head lifts, and our eyes meet.

I don't even have to ask what he learned—it's written on his face.

Defeat slumps his shoulders, and there is an apology in his voice. "They are almost identical."

Loud ringing fills my ears, and I can only look at him stupidly.

Just the thought of being a meat puppet to a demon sends a shudder down my spine.

"Almost identical." Cassius takes a step forward, aggression thickening the air around him. His hands are clenched at his sides like he's tempted to strangle the answers out of Darby. "What's different?"

I take a step back, unsure that I want to know.

Unfortunately, burying my head in the sand isn't going to help me survive.

"Possession doesn't usually kill the host." Darby glances at the body, then he turns to face me. "It's only when they try to draw dark magic from the demonic realm and cast spells that the hosts die. The black magic rips them apart from the inside out."

We all glance at the body, and I can't keep the disbelief from my voice. "And this is different?"

"On these bodies, there is no trace of magic left in them." He gives me a pointed look. "There is no hint of taint. Whatever happened to them, it wasn't done because of magical poisoning. All we know is their magic was ripped from them."

I spear my hands into my hair, dragging the strands away from my face as I begin pacing, frustration getting the better of me. "So we know how many failed attempts they tried. Do we know if there were any people taken with my genetic makeup who are still alive? Do we know if they've ever succeeded and got what they wanted?"

"We have no way of knowing," Darby answers, not looking any happier at the news.

"Obviously, whatever they are doing didn't work." Cassius waves a hand around the crime scene. "Otherwise, why keep experimenting?"

"There is no point in speculating. Maybe more than one demon is doing tests. Maybe they are trying to build an army." Porter pulls out his phone and starts snapping pictures. "Let's contain the scene and get the fuck out of here."

The guys don't argue, none of them wanting to be in the borderlands longer than necessary. While the stench of death might keep the occupants of the forest away for now, the more daring ones won't be able to resist checking it out.

I, for one, would like to be long gone by then.