Blood Mage: Blood Magic, #3

By Rebecca Jaycox

Her power is within reach. But what price will she have to pay to get it?

Reggie may have defeated Andrius' mages to rescue Brywn and the Black Queen, but now she's the Master Mage's prisoner – and Andrius has plans for her. His enemy no longer, she will be moulded into his willing disciple. What's more, he has drained her of her power, taking her blood to enhance his own.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Aelurus Publishing
• Release date: Oct 26, 2021
• ISBN: 9781912775514

Book preview

1

Andrius Drake, Master Mage of Two Cities and dark lord of the Other, watched his nemesis slumber. She looked so lovely, so innocent. The drugs had swept her off to dreamland and erased the lines of pain from her smooth, pale skin. His eyes flicked to the bandage wrapped around her abdomen. Scarlet seeped through. Her wound would need to be redressed. As soon as she woke, he would help heal her. Before he’d met Arlene, he would've made her healing hurt, but circumstances were different now.

Leaning forward, he tucked a strand of chestnut hair behind the delicate shell of her ear. Darling Reggie, whatever shall I do with you? Things have changed since we last met. It seems my plans for you must change as well.

He leaned back in his cushioned chair, the navy brocade surface shiny in the lamp’s dim light. The airship barely swayed as they made their journey back to Two Cities. Andrius had placed Reggie in the second largest cabin, next to his own quarters. The spacious room had ornate but comfortable furniture, and the giant bed almost swallowed Reggie. When he’d first brought her here, Arlene hadn’t left her side, but he’d finally forced Arlene to go to the room he shared with her and rest.

He hadn’t missed her accusing glance or the white-hot rage that had flickered through his lover when she’d seen her daughter. When it came to Reggie, Arlene’s terror of him went up in flames. She burned with such righteous fire, such emotion. It was that side most of all he wanted to possess. Her fear was easy to claim, but overcoming and owning her strength was the real challenge.

Andrius couldn’t be angry with her for her silent accusations or even for doubting him when he’d explained he hadn’t inflicted Reggie’s wound. It was hard for a mother to believe her child would stab herself. It was much easier for Arlene to blame him. After all, the last time he’d met Reggie, he had shot her. No, he couldn’t blame beautiful Arlene for her assumptions.

In the past, Andrius would have enjoyed making Reggie bleed. Before. But things had indeed changed.

And even he knew you shouldn’t gut your soon-to-be stepdaughter. He wanted Arlene to be happy. Actively participating in Reggie’s pain—no matter how tempting when she displayed such horrific manners—would not make Arlene happy.

Frowning, Andrius observed his captive once more. First, he had to stop thinking of her as a captive. Reluctant guest would be more appropriate under the current circumstances. If she were to be his adopted daughter, his soldiers had to be aware of her new status. From here on out, she would be given the best of everything, including every courtesy and respect in public. His guards would treat her with deference. Or suffer the consequences.

He tapped his fingers on the chair’s arm, thinking. Perhaps he wouldn’t mete out punishment to those guards who dared to disobey him. Or to the elite circles that surrounded him, desperately jockeying for higher positions in the magic and power echelons. Reggie was quite capable of inflicting damage herself. What she’d done to the mages in his lab had been quite breathtaking and beautifully sadistic. She’d melted them from the inside out. That showed both power and skill. She’d come so far as an Aether Mage since their last meeting. So deliciously far.

Yes, he planned to take her blood to boost his own power, but it would be extremely foolish to ignore her potential. And he wasn’t a foolish man. To have such an opportunity fall in his lap and do nothing would be unthinkable. Despite all Reggie’s progress, her power still wasn’t fully shaped. There was time to mold her into what he wanted.

He would be her teacher now.

Reggie’s eyelids fluttered, and she blinked rapidly, her long eyelashes brushing against her skin. Her pupils were huge, and her gaze unfocused as she looked at him. Andrius settled back into his chair, remaining silent. He smiled at the exact moment she recognized him; her eyes rounded, and her mouth gaped like a gate off its hinge. A gasp escaped her. The heels of her hands pushed at the blankets as she tried to sit up, but she only managed to lift her shoulders off the bed. Crying out, Reggie fell back against the mattress, panting hard. Fisting the blanket in one hand, she started pulling the silken coverlet off of her.

Reaching out, he clamped his hand over her slender wrist. Stop. You’re going to make your injury worse. I can’t have your mother upset. Andrius kept his voice low and soothing, as if he were speaking to a spooked animal.

She froze, her eyes locked onto his fingers. He deliberately relaxed his hold, and she snatched her hand back, cradling it against her chest. He could see her pulse tap dance against the tender skin of her throat.

Your mother has been desperately worried about you. She refused to leave your side until I forced her. She wasn’t doing you or herself any good. She refused to eat and was wasting away beside you. You both need your strength, Andrius said.

Her eyes narrowed. "Both of us? Aren’t you just going to keep me weak, so you can suck my blood like the vampire you are?"

The hot kiss of anger pressed against his skin at her insolent tone but he dismissed it. Reggie was young. She was Arlene’s daughter. He would try. Reggie would understand.

His fingers tapped a short rhythm on the arm of his chair. Reggie stared at his movement, her face tightening. His fingers stilled. While he wasn’t averse to her having a healthy fear of him, outright terror would just hinder any change he wanted to make to their current relationship.

I’d like us to start over, Reggie, and for that—

You what? she sputtered.

For that, he continued as if she hadn’t interrupted, I feel we need to start off with complete honesty, don’t you?

Sweat broke out across her forehead. Jesus, have you been taking my pain meds? What the hell is going on?

She was ill, he reminded himself. He raised a brow, fixing her with a hard stare. The very same stare that caused his soldiers to piss themselves. He watched her swallow.

Dear Reggie, for both our sakes and for the sake of your mother, you’re going to stay silent and let me finish. Do I make myself clear?

She bit her lip and gave a slow nod, brown eyes wary.

He allowed her a small smile to show he wasn’t a complete monster. It felt unnatural to smile at her. Truly, shooting her had been much easier. But wasn’t waging war always easier than brokering peace? And more enjoyable, too.

I realize that our previous meetings leading up to this moment have been…unpleasant. Andrius ignored her choked laugh. Bad manners on both sides, really. Don’t you agree? He stared at her until she nodded, eyes wide with anger and confusion. Being mortal enemies will do that, I suppose. I admit I did have the most desperate desire to subjugate and enslave you—I still do a little—but we can’t have that anymore, can we? No, that won’t do. You’re no longer my enemy.

Her jaw dropped. She opened her mouth but waited. He suppressed a triumphant smile. She could learn after all. Nodding, he waved an imperious hand for her to speak.

So, you don’t want to be enemies anymore because you’re sleeping with my mom? I mean, I don’t want to die, but wouldn’t it be easier for you just to kill the annoying stepdaughter?

For one so young, you’ve had many brushes with death, yes? Well, at least since entering the Other. Look at what you’ve done to yourself. He nodded toward her weeping wound. I don’t know whether to admire your bravery or lament your foolishness. But whether you’re foolish or brave, it doesn’t really matter. Neither does my past desire to kill you.

Past? she interjected.

It’s becoming past, he said. Yes, it would be far easier to eliminate you. But your mother would never forgive me, and I can’t have that.

Do you… Do you actually think you love my mother? Her voice brimmed with skepticism, and his banked rage simmered.

I don’t think—I know. Do you think you know my own mind better than me, dear daughter-to-be?

She locked eyes with him, and he allowed the cold, slick predator within off his chain, just a few links, but enough to force her to avert her gaze. Her breath puffed out in the silence between them, rough and erratic.

Answer the question, Andrius demanded.

Her big brown eyes darted back to him. I thought that was a rhetor—no, I don’t know your mind better than you do. You continually confuse the hell out of me.

Amusement cooled his anger. I greatly enjoy confusing you. I hope to never stop. Let’s start with the love we bear for your mother. Something we have in common. Well, one of the things, anyway.

We have more than one thing in common? Reggie asked.

Power, Andrius replied, and her mouth snapped shut with an audible click. Yes, I know you disdain my ‘stolen’ power, but, nevertheless, it is something we have in common.

Her laugh was dark and bitter. Especially since you’re currently using mine. She fisted her hands into her blankets until her knuckles shone white.

I hope you’re not expecting an apology. It’s the only way I can hold you without hurting you.

Her eyes sheened. You don’t think cutting me off from my magic hurts me? This, she said, jabbing a finger toward her abdomen, hurts less than that.

A rush of pleasure filled him at her words. She’d fight him at first, but this might be the right path to give him more control over her. I imagine it does. I imagine you feel blind and empty and hopeless. I imagine you don’t even really feel alive. He grinned.

A look of utter hatred flared across her features before she glanced away. Andrius stood, and she looked back at him, alarmed. He walked to her bedside, and her eyes grew impossibly large. Watching a fine tremor shake her body, he placed his palm lightly over her injury.

Do you know how to heal yourself? he asked. He watched her throat bob as she swallowed.

I… I started to learn after you shot me.

I would hope so. That should’ve been the first skill your father taught you. That ability makes the difference between life and death. And whether you’re with me or not, someone will always seek to kill you.

Reggie snorted. Well, that’s comforting.

That’s the burden of power, Andrius said. But also the pleasure, destroying your enemies when they come for you. I saw what you did to my people in the lab. Such a beautiful display of power.

She turned her face away. It was necessary.

I’m sure you believe that. We all start off believing our actions are necessary.

Her head swiveled, angry eyes clashing with his. He smiled again, and he watched her fury grow.

But now that you are with me, I’ll take over your training.

Shock wiped the fury clean from her face, and her mouth dropped open.

"You’ll what?"

Andrius delivered a pulse of magic to her wound, willing the edges to close. He’d healed the worst of her internal damage, but the injury still needed more work. Reggie gasped, her head falling back against the pillows. Slowly, he turned the key to the door in his mind where he kept her magic trapped, severed from her. He allowed her a little, just a trickle, but her eyes lit up, and he felt her yank at that thin thread as if it were a lifeline.

More, she demanded. Give it to me. Give me back what you stole!

He bared his teeth at her and slammed the lock closed once more. Tears leaked down her cheeks.

No, she cried. "No… I need it. It’s mine."

Andrius lifted his other hand and ran it down her cheek. "It’s ours. But I’m willing to share, to prove to you that things can change between us. I’ll be your teacher now."

He turned the lock again, letting loose a thread of her power. He felt her grip the magic once again, stretching the thin strand, so it wrapped around her. Reggie’s body shook, and she looked at him with hungry eyes.

He didn’t bother to hide the triumph, as he asked, Shall we begin?

2

Obsidian claws shredded through the glossy black stalks, obliterating everything in their path. A golden head appeared in the ragged hole. Brwyn snarled at the pewter corn layering the makeshift path. The Changeling viciously stomped the corn until the ground bled silver. A pale hand curved around his straining biceps, the touch tentative. Brywn jerked his head around to stare at the Black Queen. His Wolf rolled in rage, and he knew his irises glowed blue.

The Princess stared at him, her witchy eyes probing his face. He tried to rein in his blinding anger, his desperate panic. His Mother damned helplessness. It wasn’t her fault they’d lost Reggie to that monster. It was his.

Brwyn? John’s quiet voice snuck past his rage.

The Wolf’s ears twitched, listening to the boy’s mournful tone, hearing his guilt and despair. Brwyn wanted to throw back his head and howl. He wanted the Other to bleed under his claws. He wanted to go on the hunt and track down Andrius’s airship. Instead, he gave his Wolf a hard slap on the nose, and his other half snarled at him. He turned to look at Reggie’s best friend, who flinched. Brwyn cocked his head then felt the press of canines against his lips. Damn.

Yes? Brwyn asked, that one word a barely understandable growl.

John stepped back, and the Changeling shook himself, battling with his other half for supremacy. The Black Queen squeezed his bicep and his Wolf calmed. The girl didn’t have the same scent signature as Reggie, but he and his beast still recognized her as an Aether Mage and were soothed by the contact. The lethal claws retracted, and he managed a curve of his lips that didn’t show fangs.

John’s black eyes darted from the girl to him. He glanced behind his shoulder at the other hybrids who were huddled together, confused at their new freedom. It’s not your fault you know. His low words now made Brwyn flinch. I know Reggie better than anyone, including Asher, and she… She would do anything to save the people she loves. I’ll tell her dad that. I’ll tell Asher that.

Brwyn shook his head. John, it was my—

No, John spat. Reggie chose to come get you and I supported that. If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s mine because I didn’t talk her out of it, okay? So just… Just get us to Rhys. Get us back, so we can come up with a plan.

Brwyn stared at the boy who was doing his best not to crumble, who still was covered in the enemy’s blood. He and the Wolf could hate themselves later. Right now, he had the responsibility of getting this band of survivors home.

Drawing the Black Queen into his body, he gave the girl a reassuring hug and nodded at John. I’ll get us home, and then I’ll get Reggie back. I promise you.

John’s eyes wore a glossy sheen. I know you will. I’m counting on it.

His solemn statement held so much trust the Wolf perked up, and Brwyn was able to bury his rage. Turning back to the endless stalks of corn, he cut a path once more.

3

The ship shuddered as a blast of magic slammed into its side. Dust rained down on Asher’s head from the cabin’s ceiling, and one of the hanging lamps smashed into the wall, its glass globe shattering. The small cabin dimmed, and he brushed glittering pieces of glass off his hair, neck, and shoulders. He gritted his teeth and tried to concentrate once more. He’d already entered the Dream World twice, desperately calling for Rhys and Sebastian, only to be met with a deafening silence. Clenching his fists, he forced his body to relax. He was injured, exhausted, but he had to get through. Finch was a fierce warrior, but he and the crew couldn’t hold off two warships for very long.

They needed that blasted sea dragon.

Closing his eyes again, he blocked out the cries of battle and the insistent ache of his wounded shoulder. He began the countdown. The Dream World yawned before him, providing infinite possibilities in its inky depths. He plummeted through the void and built his dreamscape as he fell.

Asher landed on a ship deck, the distressed occupants frozen in time. Two ships with black flags sporting the red insignia of a raven loomed off the starboard side, blooms of magic coloring the air like still bursts of fireworks. Asher waited, sending his frantic call over and over again, aware that if he failed, they would all die.

And he wasn’t ready for death yet. He desperately wanted to live. He was no longer just existing in misery and biding his time. He finally had someone and something to live for.

Precious minutes ticked by, and fear turned his skin clammy and cool. Asher shivered. If Rhys or Sebastian didn’t come soon, he would have to help Finch. He might not want to die, but he’d be damned if he didn’t go out fighting.

A ripple pulsed in the air near his head, sending waves across his dreamscape. Asher watched; his breath caught in his throat. The space next to him widened and contorted like an air bubble pushing through liquid, distorting the image he’d built. The bubble popped, and Rhys fell out, hitting the deck hard. Asher took a step back, shocked.

Rhys was one of the most powerful mages in the Other, and he’d handled that entrance like a five-year-old just discovering magic. Asher offered his hand, and the older man took it, gaining his feet. Rhys looked sweaty and pale, and he swayed a little as he stood.

Rhys? Asher asked, alarmed. Are you under attack?

Rhys’s laugh was bitter. In a manner of speaking, I suppose so. He waved away Asher’s questions. We’re fine. Sebastian is attending to other matters. What’s happening here?

We discovered something in the Pits, something very valuable to Andrius. He’s sent two Raven warships to block us in the harbor. Where is the sea dragon? We can’t escape without her. We’ll all die.

What did you discover? Rhys demanded, eyes narrowed.

The bodies of the First Mages. We stole them.

Rhys’s mouth hung open, and he shook his head. You found—may the Mother help us. And you got the bodies out, all of them?

We lost one, but yes, we got the rest out. None of that will matter if the Raven warships surrounding us kill us, he snapped. Where is that bloody dragon?

Scrubbing a hand over his face, Rhys sighed. She’s on her way. There were some… complications. Sebastian had to find her. He’s sending her to you now.

"Find her? Where did she go?"

The older man’s expression shuttered. Nowhere that needs to concern you right now. She’ll be here soon. Rhys studied him. You look rather worse for wear yourself. Are you able to fight?

Asher nodded. When will the sea dragon be here, Rhys? I have to give Finch a time. We need to know how long we must hold the Ravens off before help arrives.

She should be there in ten minutes or so. You can hold the line. Finch can hold the line. We can’t let Andrius get those mages back.

Ten minutes. So many things could happen in ten minutes. Lifetimes. Pushing down his fear, Asher stared into the older man’s eyes. We’ll hold the line.

I’ll see you soon, Asher, Rhys said and severed his connection, his image melting into a puddle on the floor.

Shaking his head, Asher stared at the spot where Rhys had stood, suspicion flaring within him. What in the Mother’s name had happened to Rhys, and where had the sea dragon gone? He prayed that whatever had happened, Reggie wasn’t involved. That she was safe with John. But unless he returned to base, he would never know. He snapped the connection to the Dream and landed back into his weary body.

He toppled over as the ship took another savage blow, the glass from the broken lamp scraping his skin. Pushing himself to his feet, he stumbled out of the cabin and to the stairs leading to the upper deck. Although he certainly wasn’t up to full strength, being in the Dream had been restful. Building a dream construct took magic, as did calling someone in the daylight, but it wasn’t the same expenditure of power used in battle magic. He ran up the stairs and out into chaos.

The wards at the front of the ship on the starboard side had cracked, allowing missiles of flames and harpoons through. Asher’s jaw dropped as he saw a Giant pierced clean through with one of the deadly barbs. Harpoons had punctured through the metal and wards on the starboard side, holding their ship captive while the second Raven ship hammered their left side. The fighting force was split, with Finch leading the charge to keep a Raven squad from invading the deck. Asher’s eyes flitted around until he spotted Roxanna. The Giantess grasped a Raven who’d found his way over the railing and threw him against the hull of the enemy ship. Even through the melee, Asher heard the man’s back crack.

He ran toward Roxanna and Finch, building power as he moved. Precision was the key here, but the Mother knew it was easier to be a blunt instrument. He dodged a fireball, the heat singeing the scars on his neck, and he flinched. He hated being burned. Sliding to a stop, he screamed at Finch, Ten minutes until the sea dragon is here!

Finch’s grim face turned grimmer. We have to hold them off. If they board us, it’s over.

Asher nodded, focusing on the five Raven soldiers climbing over the ropes. He concentrated on their hands, those strong fingers carrying their body weight across the sturdy hemp. Wind wore down mountains. Skin was so much more fragile than rock. The first Raven was almost to the railing, his pointed ears pale against his black hair. Asher sent a blast of magic against the Elf’s knuckles, sanding the skin back from his bones.

The Elf screamed, his fingers popping open. He dropped out of sight, and Asher heard the echo of a splash as the body hit the water. The other Ravens glanced up at him, a mixture of fear and rage on their faces. Deciding to forgo the soldiers, he went to work on sawing the rope with his power. The rope began fraying when a wave of seawater slapped him flat against the deck. Pain lanced through his wounded shoulder, but he forced himself to get up. Infuriated green eyes met his as one of the Elves cleared the rope and landed on deck, water rising behind her.

Asher dashed toward her, sliding across the deck, and ramming his heel into her kneecap. It wasn’t a gentlemanly thing to do, but this was war. She crumpled, and his knuckles snapped against her cheekbone. The Elf’s eyes rolled in the back of her head, and her body lay limp on the deck. Asher sent another burst of magic at the rope, and this time it gave way. The remaining soldiers fell into the sea below. He stilled for a minute, gasping, before looking at the fallen Elf. She wouldn’t stay out for long.

Reaching down, he grasped the Elf’s body and hurled her overboard, watching as the water swallowed her. Her comrades dove after her, trying to keep her from drowning. With a grim smile, he turned back to the melee.

Parts of the ship were on fire now, and a large ladder hit the deck in front of him. He supposed they’d learned their lesson about ropes. Ravens scurried across like rats and spilled onto the decks. The black-clad bodies formed a single fighting unit, taking on Finch and Roxanna. Asher glanced around at his fallen comrades. So this was how it would end.

He focused on a Raven rushing at him, weapon raised. Drawing on his magic, Asher felt it sputter and die like a guttered candle. He unhooked a long tactical blade from his utility belt and readied it. He might die, but he would take as many of Andrius's men as he could with him.

The Raven’s blade clashed against his, steel singing. Despite his injury, Asher was the stronger one of the pair. He planted his booted feet firmly, pushing the other man back, careful not to slip in the gore coating the deck. The man’s black eyes clashed with his, sweat dripping down his nose. Asher felt the heat of fire at his back, and he didn’t know whether it was from the burning ship or a Fire mage’s attack. He felt the other man’s magic suck the air from his lungs. Oh, the irony of dying by an Air mage’s hands. Black spots crept across his vision, and he felt his grip weaken. He was pushed back a few crucial inches. His knees gave way, and he knew it was all over. The blade would come soon.

For the second time, seawater slapped him back. The Air mage’s hold broke, and beautiful, life-sustaining air ballooned his lungs. He gulped mouthfuls of oxygen, and he shook his head, trying to clear his vision. Resistance and Raven soldiers alike were pushing themselves off the slippery wood, dazed expressions on their faces. Asher was trying to figure out who the Water mage was when a roar cleaved the air.

Every fine hair on his body stood at attention, and he pushed his aching legs into a wobbly stand. He saw the ebony and wine-colored scales of the sea dragon just as she dove. Screams split his ears a few seconds later as the deck of the Raven ship on the starboard side groaned, a triangle forming in the middle, wood splintering. The hull cracked, dumping soldiers into the water.

Asher kicked the head of the Raven who had tried to suffocate him and hurried to look over the side of the sip. He saw an enormous serpentine head disappear under the water. He glanced portside. The remaining war ship tried to back up and turn for the open sea, but it was too close to the Resistance ship, and its larger bulk made it difficult to maneuver. Jaw dropping in awe, Asher watched as the sea dragon slammed into the bow of the Raven ship, raising it up out of the water. When the ship dropped back down again, there was an enormous tear in the hull, and water rushed in. The monster breached the water and roared, before diving again. Moments later, the stern lay in shambles. Hysterical cries colored the air as soldiers hit the water and were drowned or devoured by the angry sea dragon.

Kill them all, Finch roared, and Asher whirled around, watching as the other man began stabbing the downed Ravens on deck.

The fire on their ship was now out, thanks to the enormous wave sent by the sea dragon. Scrambling to find a weapon, Asher grabbed one of the fallen Ravens’ swords. He, along with other Resistance soldiers, began attacking the remaining Ravens left on their ship. He and his unit were tired and wounded, but they now had the upper hand. He fought through his exhaustion, the agony in his shoulder, and the desertion of his magic, cutting down body after body until the deck ran scarlet with blood.

Finally, when he ran out of black-clad bodies to kill, he glanced around, his eyes finding Finch’s. The other man flashed a bloody grin. They had done it; they’d held the line. He watched as the sea dragon swam ahead and then stopped, waiting. It was time to go home.

4

Reggie hated herself. She hated the desperate, clawing need for her magic. She hated feeling grateful to Andrius when he gifted her with a trickle of her power. And she hated that this yawning emptiness inside her was so great she might do anything Andrius asked of her to get her magic back.

Her body constantly ached, like her limbs were old and arthritic, or had been lopped off in battle, but were still making their phantom presence known. At one time, all she wanted was to be a normal girl. Now, the idea made her scoff in derision. Who wanted to be normal? To be without that wonderful bond with the Other? She was very afraid she’d make a deal with the Dark Mage himself to get her extraordinary power back.

It had only been a few days, and she was ready to shed her skin like a snake and assume another form. She moved farther up in bed until her head rested against the headboard, pillows cushioning her shoulders. Raising her shirt, she glanced at her wounded stomach. She had certainly shredded herself like lettuce, but with Andrius’s help, the skin was now mended, the line a lipstick pink instead of an angry