Dragon's Gift The Huntress Books 1-3 Page 38
I threw myself away from him, desperate to escape the force compelling me to steal his powers. I had no problem killing him—he’d threatened my friends—and little problem stealing his powers, but I wanted it to be a conscious decision. Not one that I was forced to make. Not one I enjoyed so much.
“Cass! Are you all right?” Nix asked. She fell to her knees beside me, concern in her gaze.
I shook my head, clearing my blurry vision. Shudders racked my body. The desperate hunger was fading now that I was away from him. I glanced at his body.
Dark eyes stared sightlessly at the ceiling. Dead.
No, I wasn’t resisting. The hunger was fading because he was dead. I could no longer take his power, so the temptation was gone. It wasn’t my own willpower or strength.
Damn. What was I turning into?
“Cass?” Nix’s voice shook me from my thoughts.
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.”
“You don’t look fine,” Nix said.
I hadn’t told Nix or Del about my new fear that my FireSoul compelled me to steal magic when I was in close proximity to a dying body. Or that I enjoyed it so much.
It made me a monster.
Like the one from my past who hunted me and my deirfiúr. It was one thing to take powers, but it was another thing entirely to enjoy it so much. To do it without control. Like an addict.
“No, I’m fine. I wanted to ask him questions, but he’s dead.” I climbed to my feet. “And I hate getting blood on my clothes.”
“Yeah, all right,” Nix said as she rose, but her gaze lingered on my. She was suspicious, but didn’t say anything.
I wasn’t off the hook. Nix was great at biding her time. She’d told me once that when I was stressed, I had the bad habit of shutting down. She usually just waited me out. Nix was the patient one.
I climbed to my feet as Nix and Claire turned to Connor. He was straightening his crumpled band t-shirt—Amy MacDonald, live from Glasgow today—and rubbing his throat. His face was still ruddy from air loss and his dark eyes bright, but he looked all right otherwise.
“That was one nasty piece of work,” Connor said.
Connor was a Hearth Witch with a knack for potions, so hand-to-hand wasn’t his specialty. He was a badass with potion bombs and a sword if he could get his hands on one, but this kind of fighting had never been his thing.
“We better hide these bodies until they disappear,” I said. “Pull them behind the counter or something.”
Connor frowned. “Yeah, that wouldn’t be good for business. Would you like a side of dead demon with your triple boosted latte, madam?”
“Why, that sounds delightful,” Nix said in a singsong voice as she grabbed a demon by the leg and dragged him behind the counter.
Please don’t let the health inspector show up.
It wouldn’t take long for the demons to disappear and return to the hell that they’d come from. You couldn’t really kill a demon, just their earthly form. In a little while, they’d wake up in their hell.
But at least we didn’t have to deal with their bodies, and whoever had hired them wouldn’t be seeing them for a while.
“Thanks for covering for us,” I said after I’d dragged the second demon’s body behind the counter. “I have no idea how they found us. Whoever they were.”
“They mentioned a seer. But didn’t they come from your shop?” Claire asked. “They came from that direction at least.”
“They couldn’t see us,” I said as Connor went behind the counter and started to make coffee. Back to business as usual. “We have concealment charms that hide us from the eyes of anyone seeking us with ill intent. It’s how we’ve managed to stay hidden for so long.”
My sisters and I had lived in Magic’s Bend for five years, but we’d only been able to settle here once we bought the concealment charms. Without them, we’d have to stay on the run or risk the Monster from our past finding us.
“I’m sorry this brought trouble to your door,” I said. “But we really appreciate you having our back.”
“Yeah,” Nix said. “You have no idea. We’ve never had friends like you before.”
“That’s what friends are for,” Claire said. “Do you think those guys were sent by the Monster who hunts you?”
“Maybe.” My skin crawled at the thought. My deirfiúr and I had no memory of the first fifteen years of our lives. Only that we were FireSouls and that we’d fled from someone terrible. I’d met him recently, so he knew we were still alive. “Probably.”
My cell phone vibrated in my pocket. I dug my hand in and pulled it out, then glanced at the message displayed on the screen.
FOUND SOMETHING. MEET AT OFFICE.
I glanced up and met three pairs of expectant eyes.
“Dr. Garriso wants to talk to me,” I said. “I’d better run.”
Nix’s eyes flared with interest. She knew I’d given our scholar friend the Chalice of Youth, an artifact linked to the Monster, and that I was waiting for answers. We wanted to know why the Monster hunted the chalice and hoped Dr. Garriso would be able to help us.
“Go, go,” Nix said. “I’ll hang out here and make sure these bodies disappear.”
“I can handle that,” Claire said. “I deal with enough demon bodies in my day job anyway. I’ve got the skill set.”
“It’s the least I can do,” Nix said. “And this is my favorite place to eat. I don’t want you getting shut down by the health inspector.”
Claire laughed. The sound followed me as I headed out of the shop.
I stepped out into the late afternoon drizzle and turned toward my car, immediately bumping into a tall, hard form. I stiffened, muscles on high-alert, then stepped back and looked up.
Aidan.
I relaxed, then smiled. My heart jumped in my chest.
“Hey.” He grinned down, his smile a slash of white in his handsome face.
His dark hair and the blue shirt he wore glittered with raindrops. It made him look even more like a model. The rugged kind, not the pretty kind. Though I appreciated both. I always felt vastly outclassed by him, but I’d learned to ignore it.
His magic surged against mine with the sound of waves crashing and the taste of chocolate. He smelled like the forest, and I had to stop myself from sucking in a deep breath.
A girl had to have some pride.
“Hey.” I smiled up at him. “Long time no see.”
My friend and maybe-boyfriend—honestly, I had no idea what to call him—had been gone on business for the last three days. I’d missed him.
“Sorry I was away longer than expected, but it’s done,” he said. His big hands gripped my shoulders, and heat shivered across my skin.
Aidan Merrick was the Origin, a descendent of the first Shifter and one of the most powerful supernaturals in the world. He was also a Magica with Elemental Mage powers and some healing ability. I’d met him about a month ago when he’d hired me to help him find a dangerous scroll. FireSouls can find just about anything of value, so I made my living finding valuable magic to sell at my shop. It was how Aidan had tracked me down.
After that job, he’d figured out I was a FireSoul—smart bastard—but instead of turning me in to the Order of the Magica, which would’ve resulted in a life sentence for me at the Prison for Magical Miscreants, he’d stuck by my side, helping me with a difficult job. Things had snowballed from there, though we’d never had any time for a real date or other romancey stuff.
Mostly, we’d been running for our lives or someone else’s. At this point, I didn’t even know what romancey stuff was. I’d have liked to figure it out, though.
“Yeah, well I can forgive you,” I said. “You’ve sort of let your business lapse while you’ve been watching my back.”
Aidan owned Origin Enterprises, a security business that made him immeasurably wealthy. At least by my standards.
“I like having your back.” Aidan grinned.
The sight sucker punched me. Damn, he looked good.
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When had I become so shallow?
“But you never returned my calls,” he said. “Got anything to say for yourself?”
My stomach dropped. “Noticed that, did you?”
“Might have. Any reason why?”
Yeah, but none that I wanted to share. Ever since I’d stolen a Shifter’s magic a week ago, I’d been so freaked out by my changing powers—and intense desire to steal other supernaturals’ magic—that I’d done my usual. I’d shut down. I didn’t know how to share with anyone besides my deirfiúr, and this felt too dark to share even with them. I hadn’t felt like faking being okay on the phone. That felt like lying.
Though now that I looked at it from his perspective, disappearing hadn’t been great either.
“I’m sorry. That was bad of me. I’ve got a good reason.” I cringed. “Maybe not a good reason, but one that has nothing to do with you. It was all me. Being weird. I’m sorry.”
“I like you weird. But I’d like you better if you talked to me.”
“Fair enough. But later? I’m headed somewhere.”
“Where to?” Aidan asked.
“Dr. Garriso wants to see me about the Chalice of Youth.” My heart pounded at the idea of finally figuring out what it was. “So I’ve got to run. Meet you later tonight?”
“Why don’t I come with?”
“Uhhh.” I’d gotten used to having him at my side, but were we going to make it a regular thing? Would I like that?
There was only one way to find out. “Yeah, all right. Let’s go. But I’m driving.”
“Fine by me.”
I turned to cross the street toward my old junker, but Aidan’s hand caught my arm. I shivered. Gently, he pulled me back.
“Hang on.” His voice sounded rough. “I haven’t had a chance to do this yet.”
My eyes darted up, meeting his dark gaze. Heat flared in its depths, igniting the same within me. He leaned down and pressed his lips to mine, stealing my breath. My head swam as his mouth moved against mine.
He was the best kisser—his lips soft and skilled and his taste divine. My heart threatened to break my ribs. Just as I clenched my fists in his shirt, he pulled away.
“Come on,” he said. “Let’s go find out about that chalice. You seemed excited.”
What I was excited about was kissing him. Tension had raged between us for almost a month now, but between running for our lives and being called away by work, we hadn’t had a chance to actually act on anything yet.
It was getting to be about damned time, if my heart rate was any indication.
“Yeah, let’s go,” I said. “Were getting rained on anyway.”
“Oh, I could ignore the rain.”
I grinned and punched him in the shoulder, then turned away.
We crossed the street quickly, heading toward the park on the other side. Ancient Magic and P & P were located on Factory Row, the recently revitalized old factory district of Magic’s Bend. Rent was low and the company was weird, but that’s what I liked about it.
We climbed into Cecelia, my old junker with chipped paint and a spotty engine. It sputtered and coughed as I cranked it, but when the engine finally turned over, I wanted to cheer.
“You know, you could afford a new car with your take from your last job,” Aidan said.
I pulled onto the street. “Yeah, but I don’t care about cars. Cecelia here will do me just fine.”
The four million I’d made on my last job—a record haul even for me—was going toward increased concealment charms for myself and my deirfiúr and protection spells for our apartments and shop. Not to mention my trove.
FireSouls were said to share the soul of a dragon, though no one had seen a dragon in centuries. Considering the fact that my deirfiúr and I were as covetous as dragons eyeing a pile of gold, I believed it. We thought it was the dragon’s covetousness that gave us our special sense for finding treasure. The rest of that four million would go towards padding my trove—a collection of leather jackets, boots, and weapons. It might be weird treasure, but it was mine.
It didn’t take long to drive through Magic’s Bend, a medium-sized city of supernaturals. We chatted about Aidan’s trip as the tall buildings of the business district passed by in all their sterile glory, giving way to the quirky structures in the historic district where the good bars were located, and then by Darklane, where everybody knew the dark magic practitioners hung out.
“Here we are,” I said as we pulled into the large parking lot at the Museum of Magical History. The rain had lightened up while we were driving, but I still sprinted towards the back door.
I tapped on Dr. Garriso’s window as I passed, then headed toward the big gray door. Aidan joined me as we waited for Dr. Garriso to unlock it. We were here after hours, but you could always count on Dr. Garriso to be in his office. I wasn’t entirely sure he didn’t live there.
The door swung open, and the small white-haired figure of Dr. Garriso smiled at us. “Welcome, welcome. Come in.”
We stepped out of the rain and followed him down the cold, boring hallway, which was nothing like the rest of the museum. Researchers always got the shaft.
Dr. Garriso was a small man, about seventy, and favored the tweed coats that made him look like an old Sherlock Holmes.
He pushed open the door to his office. As soon as I stepped over the threshold, I couldn’t help but grin. It was like stepping back in time. Bookshelves lined every wall, stuffed to overflowing with ancient leather tomes and newer paperbacks. Old Tiffany lamps gleamed warmly from wooden tables, leather chairs invited, and the air smelled like tea.
How he’d turned the sterile researcher’s office into this wonderland from a past century, I had no idea. But I liked it.
“Could I get you some tea?” Dr. Garriso asked. “I have a lovely new blend from India.”
“Yes, please,” I said.
I could never resist Dr. Garriso’s tea. It wasn’t my beloved Pabst Blue Ribbon—PBR for short, the beer of hipsters and hillbillies—but something about it suited his office so well that I could never say no. And now wasn’t exactly the time for a cold one, anyway.
Aidan and I crossed the narrow space to the small seating area under the window. There were two plush leather chairs, but Aidan picked up a small wooden one in front of the bookshelves and brought it over. He fitted his huge form onto the seat, leaving the two nicer chairs for Dr. Garriso and me.
Not a bad dude.
“Thanks,” I said as I sank into the leather chair.
Dr. Garriso puttered at the small table holding the electric kettle and his collection of tea supplies.
The kettle dinged, and he fussed some more, then carried the tea over on a tiny silver tray and set it on the table between the leather chairs. He turned and retrieved a leather box from a high shelf.
I reached for my tea as he opened the box, sipping and sighing gratefully at the added sweetness. Dr. Garriso knew I had the sweet tooth of a twelve-year-old. Five sugar cubes. It was a little ridiculous, but I didn’t care.
“This is an interesting item,” Dr. Garriso said as he removed the ornate golden chalice from the box.
Shiny.
The yellow metal glinted in the low light, and my fingers itched to touch it. Though I preferred a different type of treasure, the dragon in my soul couldn’t help but covet anything that shiny.
“What is it?” I asked. “I know it can’t just be a beauty charm.”
Right before I’d met Aidan, I’d recovered the Chalice of Youth on a job, specifically for Mr. S, Magic Bend’s favorite weatherman. Del, who consulted ancient records to determine which enchanted artifacts I would go after, had determined that the Chalice of Youth would do for Mr. S’s needs.
But it’d turned out that the chalice was more than just a beauty charm. The Monster from my past had been hunting it as well. There was no way he’d have been hunting it if it weren’t special.
“Well, you see,” Dr. Garriso said. “It’s a difficult
object. It is definitely a beauty charm, but that spell was placed on the chalice to hide its true purpose. The chalice possesses a spell that allows whoever drinks from it—”
An enormous crash sounded from one of the floors above, followed by a shout. Magic swelled in the air, a bitter, burning aroma that was hard to identify. But it smelled like dark magic.
I surged to my feet, Aidan alongside me, his massive form graceful despite his size.
“What was that?” Dr. Garriso’s white brows rose to touch his snowy hairline.
“Nothing good,” I said.
“Not a robbery,” Dr. Garriso said. “It can’t be.”
Pounding footsteps sounded on the floor above. A guard running? A thief?
“I don’t know, but we’d better check it out,” I said. I hated the idea of anyone coming in here and messing with the history contained within these walls. This stuff was irreplaceable. “We’ll be right back, Dr. Garriso.”
I raced from the room with Aidan. The sterile lights of the hallway burned my eyes after the dim pleasantness of Dr. Garriso’s office. We sprinted side by side down the wide hallway, following the sound of crashing and yelling, and pushed through the doors at the end of the hall, spilling out into one of the main exhibit rooms.
The ceiling soared high above, the setting sun gleaming orange from behind the enormous glass windows. Marble statues dotted the space, but no people.
Another crash sounded.
“Left,” I said.
We sprinted toward it, crossing through exhibits that held only artifacts. The sound of a fight beckoned, leading us to a moderately-sized room full of ancient vases and amphoras. Glass cases filled the space, gleaming dully in the light.
A purple portal glowed from the corner. Lavender light pulsed from it, illuminating the two figures who stood on either side, their arms outstretched, as if they were manipulating the magic that created the portal. They were Magica of some sort. Maybe demons, though some species looked human. Their power smelled like rot and decay, with a hint of the ocean behind it.