Love is Always Write Anthology Volume 9

any magical resistance, and therefore little more than cannon fodder. That would make him much easier to ensnare.
    What was left of the coven was hiding out in an abandoned church in the middle of the woods, which was appropriate and yet deeply silly. The first thing you learned in magic was there was no such thing as hallowed ground. No place was naturally sacred. There were spells that could replicate the effect, but they were difficult and never lasted long. They'd have no effect on him, but novice witches liked to lean on them like they were important. He could barely remember being that naive.
    The inside of the church was broken and abandoned, salted with so much dust it looked like it had been abandoned since the dawn of time. A large cobweb sagged in the eaves like a discarded wedding veil, and the small bones of dead rodents crunched under his feet as he stepped inside. It looked abandoned, it smelled abandoned … but the locator spell brought him here. Ravenhurst wasn't powerful enough to pull off such a trick.
    As he walked the aisle and looked at the few broken remains of pews, he realized either he'd been had, or they deliberately set up house here, and instantly abandoned it the moment Mitchell and his gang left. Cute. That would delay him for maybe five minutes? Sad. Now it was easy to believe that Mitchell was the best they had.
    It was then he sensed a hint of magic, and threw a revealing spell. Suddenly, he saw the boy lurking in the far corner, close to where the altar would have been. Damian's heart leaped into his throat. He hadn't expected to find the boy so easily, and certainly not alone. "Took you long enough," the boy said. Maybe Damian was going mad, but he sounded just like Kieran. He felt the glamour melt away, like a translucent caul had been torn from his body. That was impossible, and yet, it happened.
    "Who are you? Where's the rest of the coven?"
    He smiled, and it was a familiar lazy smile that pricked at his heart. "You walked into a trap, Damian. And you know exactly who I am."
    A million potential spells ran through his mind, power made his fingertips burn, but this threw him off more than he thought possible. It was like the world had shifted slightly on its axis. "No, you're not. Kieran's dead, and you stink of magic."
    "Of course I do. Magic brought me back to life." Kieran took a step forward and held his hands out in supplication. Those same long, slender hands that he could almost feel stroking his skin, trailing along his spine, stroking his hair. "And you killed me. I should hate you for that."
    This couldn't be real. Damian's stomach turned with the thought that maybe resurrection was possible, and that Ravenhurst were the last surviving coven for a very good reason. They knew more about life and death than he had ever glimpsed. "Do you?" Why was he buying into this? This wasn't real. There was no way this was Kieran.
    "No. Oh, I did for many years, but now I realize it wasn't you. You got addicted to power, Damian, and it consumed you. You're a shell of your former self." Kieran took off his shirt, which he hadn't been expecting, but why not? It showed off his lean torso, his flat stomach, and the port wine birthmark splashed across his chest like a bloodstain. That would be hard to replicate, and it looked remarkably accurate, so much so that Damian felt his heart skip a beat. "Yes, Ian, it's me."
    Only Kieran had ever called him Ian. He felt dizzy with the impossibility of it all. "How … why would they bring you back? I don't understand."
    "You've achieved your dream. You're the most powerful sorcerer in the world, and all your rivals have been wiped out. There's no weapon that can stop you. But they scoured your past and found your weakness." He pointed to himself as he started slowly walking towards him, slinking like a stray cat in search of a friendly pet. "Me."
    "Bullshit," he exclaimed, feeling the accusation hit him like a stone. It was true, wasn't it? It was why he was so glad he was dead. He was a weakness he couldn't afford. "You were once. You're not anymore. You're dead."
    Kieran smiled. It was that semi-sarcastic, semi-seductive curve of the lips that infuriated him. Damian never knew if he wanted to fuck him or fight him after he gave him that smile, and he still didn't. "I was. You did feel bad about it, didn't you? For a little while. But then the magic hardened you and you didn't care anymore."
    "You betrayed me!" he spat, letting righteous anger