Anya Bast - Witch Heart

Theo sat at the kitchen table. Pots, bowls, and a mortar and pestle sat on the counter. The kitchen was still redolent with the dry tang of herbs and Theo's spell book was open on a counter. The earth witch had been busy that morning.

She poured herself a cup, fished out a container of strawberry yogurt from the fridge, got a spoon, and sat down near him.

He laid the paper he'd been reading aside, replacing it on a stack of others. His long dark hair fell over one carmel-colored shoulder. "I've been checking the papers from here to Chicago. No crimes worthy of an Atrika have popped up, not even in the city."

She spooned up the yogurt. "That's good and it's bad. Good that no one has died that we know of." She hated to have to add that last bit to the end. That we know of. "Bad that the Atrika have gone quiet."

"What do you mean?"

"If the Atrika aren't leaving carnage in their wake, that means they're stalking. Stalking someone or something. They're calculating, trying to be quiet and unobtrusive."

"Yeah."

"When the other Atrika was loose here, the one your warlocks pulled through so many years ago. What did you say he called himself?"

"Erasmus Boyle."

She nodded. "That's right. Did he kill many people?"

He took a sip of his coffee. "Six witches, including Isabelle's sister. We know about those for sure. Micah went through all the police records since Boyle was pulled through. I think Micah's number at last count was one hundred and fifteen likely kills of humans."

"That would make sense. On average that's about five kills per year since his arrival. That's more or less what an Atrika will take normally, just to stave off boredom. He was not stalking."

"At least not until he started picking off the witches for his magickical blend. He stalked those witches." Theo paused. "Ask Isabelle. He stalked her."

Claire slid her half-finished yogurt cup across the table, suddenly not hungry.

Adam sauntered into the kitchen with his hair wet and sticking up in blond tufts all over his head. He'd shaved, and he wore a pair of close-fitting jeans, a black cable-knit sweater, and a pair of black boots. He mumbled something unintelligible at them and poured a cup of coffee.

"Witches aren't here yet," commented Theo.

"Yeah, I noticed that." Adam lifted his cup. "Thanks for pointing out the obvious, man."

Theo gave him an exasperated look. "Somebody woke up on the wrong side of the bed. I'm just saying, they're not here and they should be."

Icy cold fingers of dread eased up Claire's spine. She opened her mouth to inquire further, but Adam's cell phone vibrated in his back pocket.

He fished it out. "Hey Thomas." Pause. "No, they're not here." Adam's expression turned grim. "I've been helping Claire parse out her magick." Pause. "Yeah, yeah." Pause. "Okay."

He snapped the phone shut and looked at them. "They lost communication with the Coven witches in the middle of the night, while they were on their way here." He rubbed his chin. "The Atrika may have caught them en route. If they did, it's possible they know our location."

Claire stood, throwing her air magick wide open. She glanced at Theo's spell book. "How many charms are you holding, Theo?"

Theo stood, pushing a hand through his long, power-saturated hair. "I couldn't sleep last night. I was up until dawn brewing. I have as many charms as I can store."

"You both remember what I taught you about using earth and fire magick on daaeman, right?" She walked into the living room, to the window, and looked down the street.

They followed her and both answered in the affirmative.

"Good. You might have a… what's it called? A pop quiz soon."

The Atrika, if they'd gotten to the Coven witches, could be at the house anytime. They could be there now, just waiting for the right moment to spring.

She reached with her mind, using the air magick she possessed… listening. She heard low conversations, leaves blowing in the wind, the murmur of a couple talking on a front porch, the gentle purr of a car engine, a baby crying. She couldn't hear anything out the ordinary, but that meant little.

And then… nothing. A cloud of silence enveloped the world.

Oh, Houses.

She turned, sorrow spiking through her. "I'm sorry about your friends."

Adam took a step toward her. "Claire, what do you—"

"We need to leave. Now."

The Atrika burst through the front door.

The beautiful wood and glass of the front door shattered. All three of them dodged to avoid chunks of dangerous flying debris.

The close proximity to the Atrika made the balled-up, concentrated elium suddenly sing to life like a tuning fork inside her chest. The jarring sensation drove her to her knees.

Scenting blood in the water, Tevan's blue gaze latched onto her and his eyes narrowed. He spoke in Aemni. "Kai, I'll take care of our own. You take the aeamon males."

"Agreed, Tevan."

Tevan took a step toward her and a wall of white-hot fire sprang up between her and the advancing daaeman. Adam. Tevan's roar of outrage could be heard even over the snap and pop of the spreading blaze.

Claire fought to drag herself to her feet, summoning her own magick around and past the demanding, grasping elium as she went.

Adam grabbed her arm and hauled her out of Tevan's reach as both daaeman simply stepped through the wall of fire to come after her.

The air filled with the heavy press of daaeman magick, turning it acrid. Both Tevan and Kai were raising it. It combined with the cloying choke of smoke to suffocate her. A bomb waiting to explode.

Theo pulled power to counter and the addition of wet earth filled her nostrils. As Theo let loose, Adam pulled her down to the floor, covering her with his body.

Dark tang. Hot rush. White, painful blast of air.

Daaeman magick and Theo's earth magick collided in midair. The entire house shook. Bits of the ceiling rained down on Claire's head.

Adam and Claire scrambled to their feet and all three of them retreated backward toward the kitchen. She knew that Adam and Theo could throw as much fire and earth at them as they wanted, but she was the only one with the ability and knowledge to slow them down.

Once they cleared the kitchen doorway, she pushed away from Adam and turned toward them. "Dars vo. Valdencti ami sae" she told the daaeman. Take me. Leave my friends alone.

Tevan stopped short, his handsome face twisting with amusement. He answered in Aemni. "Are you asking us for mercy for them?" He gave a short, brutal laugh. "They offend by merely drawing breath, little witch. The only mercy they'll get is a swift death." He took a step forward, his voice lowering to a gravelly, silken murmur. "But you we will treat well."

"Until you get the elium."

He stopped again. "You are not one of them, vae Claire." Her eyebrows rose at the use of a formal daaeman title for females. "You lived nearly your whole life on Eudae. Aeamon or not, we will treat you with respect."

But for an Atrika, that still meant death. A respectful killing, but death all the same.

That was not agreeable to her.

Her magick came in a flash, exploding from her chest and her fingers. She couldn't do it any other way; they would feel her raise it and counter it.

The kitchen blasted into chaos. The chairs and table flew at the Atrika. The appliances shook free of their mooring and rocketed toward them. Air magick picked up everything it could and turned it into a maelstrom, all targeted at the Atrika. The floor beneath their feet shook, making them lose their balance. Super-heated water erupted from the pipes and sprayed them. The fire that Adam had started, she fed, sending it in a racing arc toward them.