Curse of the Fire Witch Sample

Chapter 1


“I’ll kill you!”

“I’m gonna rip your face off!”

“I’ll burn your skin from your bones!”

“I’ll use my telekinesis to rip your eyes from your head and shove them up your ass!”

“Murder is always an option!”

Damm! My head swiveled from side to side, trying to keep up with all the insults.

People hated when their favorite sports team lost, but this was a bit much. I was at an air-craft game. Air-craft was a sport played with spacers. Spacers were vehicles that flew in the sky.

They were shaped like spaceships and made for navigating through the clouds. Some worlds had spacers. Others didn’t.

In Air-Craft, four different teams competed against each other. They were given directions straight into their coms. The commentators then repeated the directions over the loudspeaker for the crowd.

The spacers would have to fly through small windows, while not touching the sides. They had to speed up or slow down when told, with only a second notice.

They had to search for and find objects, before the other team found them, while doing complicated flight maneuvers, and taking out a target when it popped up.

I smiled, loving the energy of the crowd. Air-Craft was an amazing game of skill. The rules for Air-Craft said four pilots in the spacer at all times. No more, no less. But each team usually had about thirty players. They often traded out.

Mark, my somewhat boyfriend, pointed at a black spacer. The word Slaughter was written on the side. That was the name of the team. “You all get bonuses if you win,” he shouted.

Mark owned Slaughter. He owned a few sports teams, but Air-craft was one of his favorites. His silver eyes shined while he watched Slaughter weaving through the air, trying to stay on course.

Mark was a man who took up a lot of space. His six-feet-three frame usually loomed over those around him. Add to that his thick muscles, and piercing gaze and he couldn’t hide being one of the mafia’s deadliest members.

Mark’s father was a Mafia Don. He ruled our city with precision and ruthlessness. Mark was just like him.

“Yes! Yes!” he screamed.

 Blue smoke flew from my mouth and nostrils. I was happy. It was unusual to see Mark lose control. He was a micro manager to the finest detail.

I pushed thick orange hair out of my face, aiming to get a better look at him. Mark’s purple hair was combed neatly back just barely reaching his shoulders.

His clothes were tailor-made from a material named Coule. Everything he owned came from it. He owned the factory that produced it.

He got the ingredients from deep in the ocean of a world I’d never visited. That’s all he would tell me. With Mark, everything had to be perfect.

His team hit their target again and I pumped a fist in the air. Mark spared me a grin, then turned back to the game.

I laughed. The two of us couldn’t be more different. For one, he’d never do a fist pump. Not ever. Me, I did them whenever I got excited.

Also, his eyes were silver, mine were orange, the color of fire. I was built, I mean I had muscles, but his went on for days. Besides that, I was only six feet tall, so his taller frame often loomed over mine.

He loved order. I craved chaos. It didn’t matter. Despite our differences, we seemed to get along okay. We’d only been seeing each other for six months, but it was long enough to know we liked each other’s company.

Besides, we’d gone through life and death together when a madman had tried to kill us. We’d fought hard to protect each other and formed a bond I didn’t see breaking anytime soon.

No. We weren’t official or anything like that. Mark didn’t like labels, and I was okay with that. For now.

Mark’s team scored again, and the crowd erupted with cheers. Mark and I sat in the front row, getting a up-close view of the game, something he insisted on. I turned to look at the crowd, each cheering the team they liked the best.

A few people glanced our way, some looking nervous. Mark and his family were like royalty. I assumed some were scared they’d say something to piss Mark off. They probably thought he’d kill them for a simple slip of the tongue.  

I had to shake my head at that. Yes, Mark had a temper, but he wasn’t that bad. Buzzzz! A buzzer sounded, signaling the end of the game. Mark grabbed me by my shirt and pulled me close, his eyes shining with pride.

Our lips met in a victory kiss, so tangy and sweet, it made the fire racing through my veins explode. A tingle went down my spine, making me wish we were alone. Mark made me feel like no one ever had before. Freedom, safety, security. I got it all with him.  

He grabbed my hands. “Slaughter will go to the finals now. Come on. Let’s go to the locker room. I’m throwing them a party at the club tonight.”

I wondered which club. His family owned a few. He had three that he favored. His broad shoulders vibrated with energy. His eyes twinkled in delight, making something warm settle in my chest. I loved seeing him like this. It wasn’t often that he let go.

 I ran my fingers through his hair, making it go in a million different directions. He flicked my hand away, his voice holding barely contained patience. “Liam.”

I laughed. Dude had control issues. Never a hair out of place. “It looks better with a piece sticking up.”

He turned and was ready to say something when the sky darkened, and a large gust of wind lifted us both in the air. I tried not to panic. It was an attack. Probably from his family’s rivals the Spirals. They were the second-largest mafia family and were in constant battle with the Gravelys.

A portal opened and people dressed in black and gray uniforms came roaring out. I looked at the crowd. None of them were affected by the wind, only Mark and myself.

Mark’s aura read murder. His eyes flashed with water, his gaze deadly. “Fucking Spirals. They’ll pay for this.”

A woman with black hair tucked under a gray hat walked up to us. I didn’t miss the wind dancing around her hand. Did she mean us harm? I steeled myself and readied for an attack.

The woman placed herself between Mark and me. The rest of her team watched us with stoic expressions.

I shook my head, rage making black smoke billow out of my mouth. My adrenaline spiked to a thousand. If these people wanted a fight, we’d give them one. A wicked smile lit my face. I lived for shit like this. I never minded getting down and dirty when the situation called for it.

Whoever they were, they’d messed up big time. Mark’s father wouldn’t let this go. He’d hunt each of them down and kill them all.

The woman in the gray hat looked at Mark, then pivoted and turned blazing hot eyes my way. “Liam Ition! You’re under arrest for assassinating Xann, the one true king of Bellum. Come quietly to prove your innocence or die right here.”

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