Andrei stares at his trembling hands.
Blood smears his fingers.
Fury overtakes and my spell energy courses through my body triggering a magical strength I’ve not experienced before.
The scene in front of me wipes any doubt I had: I love Amelia. She’s everything that’s good in my world, and her affection and belief I’m worth more than my magic has changed me. She’s tugged my ambitions away from proving I’m the best damn witch out there, to wanting to be part of something outside my obsession with being the best.
A hemia vampire is kneeling beside the prone body of the girl I love—with blood on his hands.
And he’s about to feel the full force of my magic.
I’m ready to unleash and I don't care if Andrei dies.
Andrei staggers to his feet and backs away as the magic sweeps into the air around, invisible as it seeks the energy needed to cast the spell brewing inside.
“Matt...” Andrei holds his hands up, palms facing me, as he backs away. “Dude. I didn’t do this to her.”
I’d run to Amelia, take her in my arms, whisper she’ll be okay, but my fury drives me in a different direction.
“What the fuck did you do?” The words come from my mouth in a harsh voice that feels separate to me.
“Nothing. Matt, I heard Amelia scream and ran in here. I saw...” He holds his arms up, palms out in defence.
“Saw what? You have Amelia’s blood on your hands. Don’t fucking lie. You attacked her.”
Andrei pushes a hand through his hair and the wet blood catches the light and stokes my anger. “I saw Katherine and Clive running.”
I narrow my eyes. This could be true, but doesn't change the fact he’s feeding off my girlfriend.
“Your energy, Matt,” he says half in awe and half in fear. “You’re lighting up like a bloody firework.”
I stare down at my outstretched arms where flames lick my sleeves, running from my shoulders to my wrists and gathering into a ball.
“Is she hurt?” I snarl, louder.
“Not much.” He focuses on my hands. “Dude, please stop and listen.”
“Is witch blood too big a temptation, Andrei?” I storm towards him and he drops to the floor cowering, hands over his head.
“No. Fuck, Matt. I haven't drunk any blood. I swear. I’m trying to help.” He holds a hand in front of his face and his fingers tremble still as he focuses on the blood, and the hunger is clear in his eyes. He can’t hide how much he wants Amelia’s blood, or what he’s done to her.
Andrei can’t control himself around humans, and now he’s attacked a witch.
The vampire continues to stare at the blood on his fingers, and rubs his lips together as if he has cream from his favourite cake on his fingers. “You did!” I yell and a torrent of flame launches upwards from my hands, taking me by surprise.
The fire soars above like a cloud below the ceiling, but doesn’t ignite anything. I look to Amelia but my flame-covered hands stop me approaching closer. I could hurt her more.
Andrei stumbles backwards.
“Matt! Look at my mouth! No blood.”
Andrei’s terror is real and I love seeing his fear. He won’t move now—fire is the only thing that can kill a vamp, and just a lick of flame would agonise him.
Enthralled by what’s above me, I lose sight of Andrei for a second as words nudge into my mind. Words I’ve read in the Blackwood grimoire—how to turn this ball of flames into a creature I can control.
Kill the vampires, whispers a voice. They trick and they lie. They kill witches.
“Ignis draig!” I call out as I shape the fire with my fingers, trying to turn the flames into the snake creature I saw in the book. “Amelia!”
She doesn’t move.
“Andrei, stand back from her,” I yell. “Opposite end of the hallway.”
“Matt, please. Listen to me. Don’t use that magic. You have no idea what you’re doing to yourself.”
This evil guy can say what he wants, but as soon as he steps far enough away from Amelia he’ll die. The certainty runs through my veins as the magic takes hold and the fire morphs into the snake I’ve practiced the last few days. I smile up at my creation, who’ll burn the vampire to ash.
A serpent face appears in the flames, the mouth opening as it roars down and towards me. I try to drop my hands as a fiery visage comes nose to nose with me; the heat strokes my skin but doesn’t burn.