Chapter1
Kyra
Death threats were often made anonymously, the words designed to intimidate and scare. Kyra wasn’t scared by pieces of paper, not when she had seen more horrors and monsters in her twenty-eight years than most would in their lifetime. But after six months and numerous letters, the envelope she tucked beneath her arm scared her, the threat darker, more graphic.
It had been personally delivered to her home, the generic white envelope void of a stamp and an address. She wouldn’t have even opened it, except this time there had been a gift carefully wrapped inside.
“He will see you now,” Bane said, the tall Fae gesturing from behind his desk. “You’re lucky he has a break in his schedule.”
Kyra nodded, flicking her long black braid back over her shoulder. She knew never to thank the Fae, just one of the many complicated rules when dealing with them. It was why she preferred to work with the dead. They had no rules, and they never wanted to engage in awkward small talk.
“Why if it isn’t my favourite black witch,” Frederick Gallagher, the head of The Magicka said with a slanted smirk. “Miss Farzan, what do you need?”
Kyra waited for the door behind her to close, Bane taking his time, attention lingering before he quietly excused himself.
“Well?” Frederick prompted when she remained quiet. He moved from his chair, dramatically tugging the ruffles that draped down his shirt like a romanticised pirate. He sat on the edge of his desk, letting out an impatient puff.
Kyra carefully held out the envelope, waiting until he had taken it before she explained. “That’s the fifth letter I’ve received, but the first with the death charm.”
Frederick tipped the contents into his hand, eyes bright as he read the words that had made her stomach twist into knots, and bile burn her throat. He only gave the severed finger a brief glance, the broken nail freshly painted black.
“It’s not active,” he said, tossing the digit onto his desk. “And this letter is nonsense. We both know you’re under my protection. No one would ever hurt any witch considered mine. You're being dramatic.”
“Dramatic?” Kyra echoed, having to concentrate to keep her voice even. “Someone has written in detail how they wanted to slice me open from neck to navel and use my organs for spells. I think that warrants some concern.” Organs used in black magic wasn’t uncommon, which was only one of the many reasons practicing magic that specialised in blood and death was outlawed by The Magicka long ago. There were exceptions, like herself who were granted special privileges. They were strictly ruled by The Magicka, and in exchange they weren’t hunted down and slaughtered like animals.
If Kyra had been luckier she would have never revealed herself, but it was Frederick who had recognised her unique chi and understood what she was. She was left with little choice but to agree to his protection, and the conditions that came with it.
“Don’t play me a fool,” he said with a chuckle. “I wouldn’t be surprised if it was fake, and this was just an excuse to get out of our arrangement.” He slipped off the desk, moving closer until she could clearly smell the ozone that radiated off him like some narcissistic cologne.
“It wasn’t fake.” She knew, she had smelt the sulphur come off the finger when she had tossed it carefully into salt water to dissipate the black charm.
“Whatever you say,” he said with a crooked smirk. “But it is a peculiar time to receive such threats after I asked you for assistance with my little project.”
Kyra clenched her hands, nails digging in to the point she knew she would have little crescent moons indented into her palms. “I have always done exactly what you’ve asked, but you have no idea what you're messing with. I won’t do it, ask one of your other witches.”
He had enough under his control, being the voice to the organisation that governed their entire Breed. Frederick Gallagher made the laws, and as she had found out only a few years ago, he could also bend them.
“I don’t think you quite understand our situation.” He bowed down, moving his face only inches from hers. “Bane has made you an appointment at the market to pick up the correct supplies, make sure you’re not late.”
Kyra controlled her chi as it flared out in response, her magic reacting violently as the crystal she kept flush against her skin began to burn. “Frederick…”
“You will direct me as Councilman,” he corrected. “You seem to be a little unstable at the moment, Kyra. Carry on and you may need a babysitter.”
Kyra froze, anxiety wrapping itself around her chest.
“Youwilldo exactly as I ask, as that’s our agreement,” he said, his smile darkening. “We wouldn’t want your secret to get out now, would we?”
Chapter2
Xander
Xander fucking hated cemeteries.
“Stop sulking,” Axel smirked as they both walked past the darkened unkept graves. “They’re already dead.”
“It’s not me who’s sulking,” Xander grunted, ignoring the howls of the spirits that wanted his attention. He kept his gaze straight, careful not to acknowledge them, otherwise they would never leave him the fuck alone. “Titus was scheduled to go hunting tonight, not me.” He stayed away from the Troll Market if he could help it, the underground bazaar not the best place for a man who could see the dead. “What happened between you two? You have a fight again?”
“Nothing happened, he's just an arsehole,” Axel snapped back, his face tightening. “Now are you gearing up or not? I need a good fight.”
