Crime of Magic Read online

  Crime of Magic

  Dragon’s Gift The Druid Book 2

  Linsey Hall

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Thank you!

  Excerpt Of Death Valley Magic

  Author’s Note

  Acknowledgments

  Glossary

  About Linsey

  Copyright

  1

  “Oh fates! Hide here!” Panic flashed inside me as I grabbed my two sisters’ arms and dragged them into a nook in the castle wall. I pressed against the wall, my breath held.

  Bree and Rowan crowded against me, smooshing me into the cold stones. We squeezed behind a statue, mostly concealed.

  “Why are we hiding?” Rowan asked.

  “Potts is coming,” Bree whispered.

  She’d seen the day librarian too. And probably heard him, with her amazing hearing. The last thing we wanted was to run into the crotchety day librarian right before we snuck into the library and broke into a secret tunnel.

  My sisters and I stood still as statues as we waited for him to pass. Bree’s dark hair fluttered into my mouth, and it took all I had not to spit the flyaway strands out.

  It took Potts ages to pass, since he was older than the crypt keeper. I tended to like older people, but Potts was so grumpy you’d have thought someone put cement mix in his morning coffee. Every morning.

  Through a gap in the statue, I saw Potts shuffle by, grumbling about Florian moving the books into the wrong places. He had an ongoing feud with the night librarian, and they fought like two cats over a catnip toy.

  Except not nearly as cute.

  When he finally passed, my shoulders relaxed. We gave him a minute more, then moved to slip out of the nook.

  The sound of voices stopped us, and we pressed ourselves farther into the shadows.

  Two people were walking down the hall, chattering away.

  “I don’t buy it,” said a feminine voice. “No way she stopped the cloaked figure from stealing the spell.”

  “I’ve seen her in class,” said a guy. “She’s a disaster.”

  I stiffened.

  There was only one person they could be talking about.

  Me.

  Shit.

  “Probably just made it up,” Lavender said. It had to be her, my fellow institute trainee who hated me. “Who knows what she gave Lachlan Munroe in order to get him to agree to her story.”

  “Oh, I think I know,” Angus said. He always hung around Lavender, so it had to be him.

  She snickered.

  Rowan started to move, then Bree. I grabbed their arms, not wanting them to get in a fight on my behalf.

  A second later, Lavender and Angus passed. I held tight to Rowan and Bree for a moment more. Bree could crush them with her power, and Rowan’s magic might be gone, but she could fight like a demon.

  “They’re such jerks,” Rowan muttered.

  Yep. And they were my classmates. I clenched my teeth, determined not to care.

  Bree turned to me, concern in her eyes. “You’re doing that stiff upper lip thing, aren’t you?”

  “Keep calm and carry on, right?” I said.

  “It’s your specialty.” She frowned. “But you know you can be pissed, right?”

  “Being pissed means I care,” I said. “I don’t care. I can’t care.” I still had bruises from our last magical combat class. Those two had used their offensive magic to beat the crap out of me, and with my shield magic on the fritz, I’d pretty much just been a piñata.

  If I cared, I’d be an idiot.

  Everyone else at the Protectorate had been impressed when I’d helped Lachlan Munroe stop a mysterious cloaked figure from stealing a dangerous spell last week.

  Not those two.

  It’d just stoked their dislike.

  Whatever. Can’t win ‘em all.

  “Come on,” I said. “Let’s go.”

  We slipped out of the nook, into the wide hallway. It was one of the older passageways in the castle, and the walls were ancient stones that had seen hundreds of years of activity. Warm candlelight from the sconces gleamed on the old wooden floors. We’d only been here a few months, but I loved this place.

  Who wouldn’t love living in a castle?

  “I know it’s fine if we’re out at night.” Rowan pushed her dark hair over her shoulder as her eyes gleamed blue in the low light of the wall sconces. “But I really just don’t want to run into Potts. If that means cowering behind a statue, so be it.”

  “Amen, sister.” I nodded.

  Mayhem, Bree’s ghostly sidekick, fluttered in the air up ahead. The little pug glowed a transparent white, her small wings working overtime to keep her aloft. She peered around the corner and then looked back at us, wagging her tail.

  It was our signal that the coast was clear.

  We kept going, moving silently along the hall.

  I had to agree with Rowan—there wasn’t much need to sneak around. I didn’t think we were doing anything wrong. Even though this was the Undercover Protectorate’s school of magic, we were all adults.

  But it was more fun to sneak through the halls at night, led along by a ghostly pug with a fondness for ham.

  Anyway, Rowan was right. The last thing anyone wanted was to piss off Potts.

  We reached the library without any more incident and slipped inside. Shelves lined the walls that towered high above, stuffed full with leather-bound books. The spines gleamed in the light of the fireplaces that burst to life upon our entrance. Paintings hung on the walls, some stacked right on top of books.

  I grinned. The whole place was magical.

  As usual, Chaos and Ruckus, Mayhem’s two ghostly pug buddies, sat in a plush bed in front of the biggest fireplace. Probably waiting for Florian to read them their bedtime story.

  What wasn’t normal was the Cats of Catastrophe. The ragamuffin cat gang sat on a big wooden table, clearly up to no good. Princess Snowflake III, the fluffy white Persian who wore a diamond necklace, sat at the edge of the table, throwing daggers with her eyes.

  “I think she’s the lookout,” Bree said.

  “Oh fates,” I sighed, watching as Muffin, the hairless black sphynx cat, tried to pry a gemstone out of a fancy lamp that sat in the middle of the table. A sapphire glittered in his tattered ear. A couple days ago, it’d been an emerald to match his green eyes. He’d changed out his jewelry.

  I had no idea how he’d managed it, but he was the Cat Sìth, the most magical cat in Scotland, so he had a few tricks up his sleeve. Muffin was the leader of the gang, which specialized in stealing fish from the docks and organizing complicated jewel heists.

  Beside him, Bojangles chewed on his tail. The goofy cross-eyed cat was paying no attention to the jewel heist in progress.

  “Isn’t this a bit amateur for you guys?” I asked.

  Muffin glanced at me, his front claws still clutched around the jewel that he was trying to pry free. “Meow.” Everyone needs a hobby.

  “Fair enough, but how about you run your operation out of the castle. You’re making me look bad.” A little over a week ago, they’d followed me back here and never left. I didn’t mind having feline sidekicks, but if they were going to steal stuff, it was no good.

  Muffin gave an audible sigh, then lowered his claws. He looked longingly at the bright red stone, then at me.

  “Go steal hams from the kitchen wi
th Mayhem,” I said. “No one seems to mind that.”

  I didn’t give him time to answer. Who was I kidding anyway? He wouldn’t listen to me.

  “Ooooooooh, ooooooooh.” The ghostly wail echoed from the far wall.

  I looked at my sisters and grinned.

  “Wipe that smile off your face,” Bree whispered.

  I did, but it was hard.

  “Who is it?” Bree asked in a tremulous voice.

  We all knew who it was—Florian, the ghostly night librarian—but we played along anyway. He liked to scare people. Unfortunately for him, he was the least scary ghost in the history of ever.

  “Ooooooh, oooh.” The wails came again.

  I stifled a small laugh. “Terrible and tragic ghost, have mercy!”

  Florian drifted out from the bookshelf, his fancy eighteenth century outfit making him look like he was about to go to a ball. His wig sat slightly askew, the curls towering toward the sky. “I did quite a good job that time, didn’t I?”

  I nodded. “Superb. You really had my heart going there.”

  He smiled and bowed, then stood. “You’re here for our mission?”

  “Can’t wait.” I swung my arms over Bree and Rowan’s shoulders. “I brought some backup.”

  He clapped. “Good, good!” With a sweeping gesture of his arm, he indicated for us to follow him, so we did, heading back to the older part of the library.

  Last week, my new and uncontrollable magic had delivered a premonition that there was a trapdoor in the library—one that had been long forgotten. When Florian and I had gone searching for it, we’d found it. But it’d been locked tight. This was the first time we had a chance to go investigating. I’d been busy trying not to drown in my classes.

  It wasn’t going so hot.

  I pushed the thought away and followed Florian to the back wall. He led us toward a door hidden on the right side, and we followed him into the massive hidden library in the back.

  As always, a sense of wonder filled me. The front library was incredible—I’d never say it wasn’t—but the back library was like something out of my fantasies. Florian called it the ghost library because it was his domain, but it really looked it.

  The space was ten stories tall, with a massive open atrium in the middle. We entered at the middle, so it was possible to see both up and down, which lent the place a feeling of majesty and grandeur.

  Each level circled the atrium and was filled with books. The ceiling was domed, the glass allowing light to filter through. Since it always shined at all hours of the day, I had to assume it was magic. It glittered on the dust motes in the air, and glowing balls of light hovered near the ceiling.

  “Come, come.” Florian headed for the railing that bordered the open space in the middle. As he walked, the railing disappeared, and a staircase formed in its place.

  The library only admitted you if it wanted to or if you’d earned it. I’d had to earn my way in last week by finding the long-lost trapdoor. Now we were going to figure out what was inside the door, and the library seemed to be totally down with this plan.

  “I can’t believe this place really exists,” Rowan whispered as we walked down the sweeping staircase to the next level.

  “Me neither.” Bree and I had only been here about a month longer than she had, and we’d barely adjusted. It was still the most incredible place I’d ever been, and I was certain it would retain that title until the day I died.

  “I’ve been trying everything I could think of to pry the door open,” Florian said. “But none of it has worked.”

  “What’d you try?” Bree asked.

  “Well, pulling the handle, mostly.” He shook his head. “Didn’t work.”

  I stifled a small laugh. “Hopefully Bree can help us.”

  As a Dragon God, she’d been gifted with the powers of different Norse gods. One of those—super strength—had come from Magni, one of the sons of Thor.

  “I do hope you’re right.” Florian led us around a tall bookshelf. “I desperately want to know what is in the door. It’s as if the castle is trying to tell us something.”

  If it was, I definitely wanted to figure it out. This was Florian’s domain, and I was just glad he’d invited us along.

  He led us toward the back corner at one of the lower levels, where we’d found the trapdoor. It was set into the wooden floor in a forgotten spot in the library. The ancient rug and table that had once covered it were pushed up against the bookshelf behind it. I wasn’t convinced we’d find anything interesting down here, but I sure as heck wanted to look.

  Florian rubbed his hands together and peered down at it. “All right, get going!”

  Bree saluted, then bent down and grabbed the round iron ring that was set into the wood. She pulled at it, yanking hard.

  Nothing.

  “Come on, don’t be a wimp,” Rowan teased. “Give it your all.”

  Bree’s face turned red as she pulled, and sweat popped out on her brow. She was more than strong enough to lift a car, so this should be possible.

  Unless…

  “It’s got to be magic,” I said.

  Bree dropped the chain. “I can’t break through that.”

  “Dang.” I rubbed my chin, then looked at Florian. “You’ve checked the library for any clues?”

  “I have. Nothing.”

  Rowan bent over the door, inspecting. “And there’s no keyhole.”

  I frowned. We had to figure out the spell that kept it locked.

  “Try your new magic,” Bree said. “See if it will tell you anything.”

  “I can try, but no promises.” It’d been wonky as hell, lately. The new power had appeared about a week ago, and I still wasn’t sure what it even was. Normally, magical powers were obvious. Fire Mages threw fireballs, Telekinetics moved stuff with their mind, Seers could see the future when they tried.

  But me?

  Sometimes my new magic would answer questions I asked it. Sometimes it wouldn’t. Since I was a Dragon God like my sister, the magic had to come from one of the mythical pantheons. But I had no idea which one.

  I closed my eyes and focused on my magic. It was hard to find, almost like it lay dormant inside me.

  Since it had worked when I’d asked it questions before, I tried that this time as well.

  How do we open this door?

  Crickets.

  I squeezed my eyes shut tighter and tried to focus on my magic, but it was hard.

  How do we open this door?

  Nothing.

  “Any luck?” Bree asked.

  I opened my eyes. “Not now. I think I need to practice more.”

  But how? Lachlan, the irresistible shifter mage who haunted my dreams, had promised to help me, but I hadn’t seen him in two days, since he’d asked for my help finding the cloaked figure who’d tried to steal a dangerous spell from him. We may have saved the spell from the thief, but we still wanted to catch him.

  A loud, deep meow caught my attention, and I turned.

  As if he’d heard me thinking about him, Lachlan had appeared, led here by Muffin, who sat in front of him.

  I swallowed hard, trying to keep my cheeks from heating.

  But of course all I could think about was our one kiss, and then the fact that Lachlan had said it couldn’t happen again because we were now working together.

  That kind of awkwardness was totally my style, but it didn’t mean I’d gotten used to the sheer torture of it.

  Lachlan’s gaze lingered on me a moment longer than everyone else, then he tore it away.

  Honest to fates, it looked like he tore it away.

  It could be my wishful thinking, but… Maybe not.

  His gaze dropped to the trapdoor. “That looks interesting.” Lachlan’s Scottish accent was thick.

  “It is.” My voice came out totally not squeaky or awkward at all, and I counted it a major victory. “What are you doing here?”

  “I had news, and Muffin was kind enough to lead me here.”


  “The library admitted you.” Florian’s brows rose, clearly impressed.

  “Aye, if you mean that a staircase appeared.”

  “Hmmm.” Florian nodded. “Interesting.”

  Muffin walked to the trapdoor and started scratching at it.

  “What news do you have?” I asked. “Have you had some luck tracking the scrap of fabric from the thief’s cloak?”

  Last week, Lachlan had fought the thief while in his lion form. A scrap of fabric from the cloak had been torn off and stuck in his paw. It was our only clue.

  Lachlan nodded. “I wanted to let you know that I’ve found a tracking spell that will help us find him. It will take a couple days to start working—this potion takes time to brew—but at that time, we should know more.”

  Satisfaction filled me. Good.

  The thief had stolen an ancientus spell, designed to bring back magic from the past. Usually, that meant dangerous magic. He might not have gotten away with the ancientus spell, but that didn’t mean he was going to quit on his evil plan. Whatever it was, we wanted to stop him.

  Lachlan pointed to the door. “Do you need help?”

  “Strength won’t do it,” I said.

  “I’m more than just brute strength,” he said.

  Boy, did I know it.

  He knelt by the trapdoor and touched the metal ring that was connected to the locking mechanism within the door. Soon, the ring glowed red hot, then it began to melt away, dripping through the hole in the trapdoor. Once it was all gone, leaving nothing but a hole in the wood, Lachlan stepped back.

  “Hopefully that will break the spell,” he said. “If the lock is gone, there can’t be a spell on it, right?”

  “Let’s find out.” I figured it had cooled enough, so I reached into the little hole where the iron ring had been anchored and pulled.

  The trapdoor burst open. Stale air wafted out, and I stumbled back, covering my mouth to keep from breathing in the dust.