walked toward them. Behind the man, the air shimmered again and someone else appeared.
“Cloaking spell,” Niamh said as the three warlocks and two witches lined up on the aisle ahead of them.
“How?” Kiyo growled. Niamh was supposed to be able to sense magic and supernaturals.
“They can cloak themselves, even from me.” Tears brightened her eyes. Eyes that were filled with rage as she stared down the coven members. “But at great sacrifice.”
Kiyo knew about magic. He knew that unlike Niamh who was made of energy, connected to it, and could use her powers with no need of an exchange, witches and warlocks couldn’t. To cast spells, to use magic of any kind, they required fuel for the energy. A tree in the woods in exchange for an offensive spell in battle. An animal in exchange for wounding an enemy.
A human being in exchange for a spell of invisibility against the most powerful species on earth.
White witches and warlocks had great limitations upon them because they refused to hurt others for their power.
Some covens, like the Blackwoods, however, were large enough that their combined natural energy allowed them to do much that individual witches and warlocks couldn’t. That’s why most magic users wanted to belong to a coven. It made them more powerful.
And then, of course, there was the fact that when covens became as powerful as the Blackwoods, they got away with using dark magic while pretending the very thought abhorred them.
“They killed everyone on the plane to cloak themselves from me,” Niamh said in furious horror, grief darkening her eyes.
“Not technically necessary.” The warlock leading the charge gestured to the dead passengers. “But we did need about half of them. You’re very hard to trick, you see.”
“Why kill all of them?” Kiyo stared blankly at this warlock who had no honor. It was something Kiyo had mastered over the years. Keeping what little emotion leaked through locked down tight. He’d seen much in his life … but even as soulless as he felt most days, Kiyo knew in that moment that he still had one. Because he felt the deaths of all those passengers pressing in on his chest.
He couldn’t look at them.
At the humans who had gotten on a flight like they’d probably done many times, and their energy, their lives had been snatched mindlessly so five fucking magic users could hide from one fae woman.
Dirty, dishonorable pieces of shit.
“I don’t like loose ends,” the warlock said. His pale gaze was fixed on Niamh. “You’re lucky we need you so badly or I would kill you for what you did to Layton and his sisters. But Layton’s father doesn’t want that. You’re too important.”
“She didn’t kill them.” Kiyo spoke for her.
The warlock flicked an irritated look at him. “And I would believe the word of a mercenary? What business have you here, you filthy, mangy half-creature?”
Absolutely the wrong thing to say to him when he was already feeling more than he wanted to.
Kiyo was a blur, closing the short distance between them.
His fist smashed through the warlock’s chest; he gripped the son of a bitch’s heart and yanked it out. The warlock’s eyes closed and he flopped to the floor like his battery had been removed.
Which it kind of had.
Kiyo had just dropped the heart on the warlock’s body when he felt invisible fingers tightening around his throat. The sensation was unpleasant, startling him to his knees. It wouldn’t kill him, however, and he pushed to standing to face the witches who were using their combined power to choke him.
Suddenly, he smelled Niamh brush past him. He barely saw her. She was so fast, just a whirl of color and movement. The first time he’d seen someone move that fast was a few months ago when Rose and Fionn tracked him down in Bucharest. They’d been attacked by coven members then too.
One by one, like dominoes, the coven members dropped to the aisle floor.
Niamh stood in amongst the carnage, her chest heaving with emotion, tears streaking her face as she stared down at the bodies. Kiyo didn’t know if they were unconscious or dead.
She lifted her tortured gaze to his, and Kiyo had the strongest urge to go to her.
To comfort her.
It made no sense.
Then the plane lurched, stealing him from the disturbing thought. “What the hell?” he bit out, getting to his feet only to stumble against a seat as the plane lurched again.
“The coven!” Niamh flew at him. “They must have been controlling the plane.” She