Ancient Magic (Dragon's Gift: The Huntress #1)(18)

I was relieved when we finally arrived in the little port. I wanted to get off land. A grizzled old man with white hair and a fisherman’s cap waited for us on the single dock. A pipe puffed at his mouth.

“Aidan, my lad, good to see you,” he said. “Visiting the monks?”

“Yes,” Aidan said. “Thanks for lending us your boat.”

“Well you’re paying me a pretty penny now, so it’s no hardship.” The man handed over a key and nodded to the rickety fishing boat that bobbed at the dock. It was red, though the paint peeled, and was a distinctly charming sight in its sunny setting.

“Thank you, Mack,” Aidan said. “I’ll bring her back in one piece.”

I climbed aboard and we set off.

“Not the quickest boat,” I said as we bounced over the waves. “But it has charm.”

“The faster boats are in the bigger tourist towns. Better to stay under the radar.”

That, I could agree with. Though this was just recon, it was good practice to avoid humans when doing something that could go magically south.

“Is that it?” I asked, shielding my eyes against the sun as I looked over the glittering waves to a steep, craggy mountain that jutted out of the sea. I’d never seen a place so desolate. How could anyone live on the shear rock cliffs?

“It is. Monks have been living there for two thousand years.”

“Jeeze. Peaceful, I guess. But being locked up there for my whole life—no thanks.”

The jagged cliffs soared above us as we pulled the boat up to a small floating dock.

The sound of screams and blasts of magic rent the air.

“What the hell?” I glanced at Aidan.

“So much for peaceful.” He grabbed a line and leapt off the boat onto the dock.

I hopped out as he tied off the boat, charging up the stone steps without waiting for him. They were nearly vertical, but the sound of a fight pushed me forward.

On the cliffs above, I spied a collection of strange beehive-shaped stone structures. It’d be quicker to climb over the rock ledge to my right rather than take the stairs that curved around.

Aidan’s footsteps sounded and I turned.

“Give me a boost,” I said.

He eyed the seven-foot tall cliff that I needed to get over and nodded, then grabbed me around the waist and practically threw me over. I scrambled up as he pulled himself gracefully onto the rock to my left.

Wind whipped as I turned to face the buildings. They rose behind the jutting rock and scraggly grass ahead. Shouts sounded from the largest one, a long building made entirely of stone. The walls curved inward at the top to form a curved roof. Aidan and I charged it, stooping low under the small door.

The dimness blinded me for a moment. Candles illuminated the space, shining light on the combatants. There were at least a dozen monks, all clad in drab brown robes, fighting five dudes who looked like special ops goons from an action flick. Though fighting was a bit of an exaggeration. Despite their numbers, the monks were heavily outmanned. Most threw ineffectual punches while others launched weak blasts of power.

“Demons,” I said when I spotted their dark gray skin. Good. I hated fighting other supernaturals because I was scared I might kill them and take their power. Demons didn’t really die, so they couldn’t transfer power.

These looked a lot like the one that had called me a FireSoul, but most species of demons had gray skin. There wasn’t a sun in most of the hells. I’d wait to see if they threw smoke before I got nervous.

I glanced at Aidan. “Leave one alive?”

“Yes. I want to know why the hell they’re here.”

I pulled my daggers from their sheaths and charged into the fray, toward a tall demon grappling with a monk. I wanted to throw Righty, but they were moving too quickly. Nailing a man of God with my dagger sounded like a bad idea.

I jumped onto a bench and launched myself off of it, crashing down on top of them. I shoved the monk out of the way with my foot and plunged Righty into the demon’s left shoulder. He roared, his ugly face twisting in pain.

Agony seared my side and stole my breath. Warm blood soaked into my clothes. I assumed he’d swiped me with a knife but didn’t look. His fist crashed down on my back, a punishing blow that sent pain radiating through my body.

That was why I liked to throw my knives.

I grabbed one of the demon’s horns, pressing his head back onto the stone floor and stabbing him in the throat with my other knife.

Warm blood sprayed my face and I gagged.

Ugh. The worst. I scrambled off the demon. A second later, he strangled in his last breath. He’d disappear soon, his body returning to its hell. With my sleeve, I scrubbed some of the blood from around my eyes, then bent down to snag Righty, which protruded from his shoulder. Pain sang through me from the demon’s blows. I glanced at my side and saw a long gash along my ribs. My back ached. Felt like a few broken ribs, damn it.

At least he hadn’t gotten his blade between them. I was going to live, so I considered it a win.

A demon shrieked and I spun, startled by the sound of fear. Demons were never afraid. They were single-minded, inhuman in their desire to accomplish their goals. Fear didn’t usually affect them. It was one of the main reasons they were used as minions to guard treasure or to carry out evil deeds.

“Holy hell,” I breathed.