Resistant Magic (Relic Hunter Book 5)

by R. Leonia Shea

  “Where’d they go?” I asked, sliding my eyes toward the room.

  Ka’Tehm spread his little paws out in front of him and shrugged.

  “But you stayed,” I said, bending down and stroking my fingers over his magical fur.

  He blinked once and placed his front paws on my knee.

  “Thank you,” I whispered, holding back the tears. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to cry because I was sad that Kai and I were currently embroiled in our first (oddly silent) fight or because I was angry that he’d taken off. It could have also been tears of frustration or maybe the million other emotions I was wrestling with.

  There was a note on the dresser in Kai’s neat printing. I flipped it open and read the words:

  My Favorite Fattucchiera,

  I get it. You don’t need to be worried about me while you’re working on this problem. I’m doing a little research of my own, so you can concentrate on what you were trained for. I took the avian assassin as my backup to reduce the chance that my mortality will be tested. We figured you wouldn’t let either one of us go with you tonight, so we might as well do our own thing. Your bubbly buddy volunteered to stay with you, and he assured us he can’t be killed. He’s more valuable to you than either of us right now. Maybe that’ll make you take him along. Good luck and we’ll see you later.

  Formerly Furred & Fabulously Feathered

  Crap. He was really mad, and the note didn’t make me feel any better despite the tone. I reread it and realized that I was still pretty furious myself, but I noticed he didn’t use any names in the note. Kai did nothing by accident, so that was probably important. Maybe my instinct to not give too much information to Paolina had been correct.

  I looked at Ka’Tehm, who had floated onto the bed and was surrounded by packets, labeled water pistols, and a new amulet that would more appropriately be called a medicine bag than anything else. I’d never seen it before, but a shiver went through me as I ran my finger over the leather pouch. There was a small note that read spark me on one pile of my arsenal. I did as it suggested and headed into the bathroom to shower and get ready for my night.

  Standing under the water, I thought about Kai’s note again. All of the words that applied to our little group were alliterations. Favorite Fattucchiera, Formerly Furred, Fabulously Feathered, Bubbly Buddy. The last one stuck in my head. Ka’Tehm was a lot of things, but bubbly wasn’t a word that came to mind. Blue buddy would have worked. I rolled that around in my head, trying out other alliterations for the players in the jinn drama. Jittery Jinn, Jinxed Jinn, Jiggling Jinn. I sighed with frustration. I knew he was trying to tell me something, but I struggled with the puzzle because my mind was already on overload.

  I changed into my work clothes of cargo pants and a black t-shirt with hiking boots. I braided my still-damp hair into a tight queue, stuffed my pockets with potion-filled water pistols, and packets of spells. The last thing I did was hang the new pouch Kai had made for me around my neck. I sent a spark of power into it and felt the magic shiver over my skin like gentle waves. I had no idea what Kai had put in that pouch, but I envied his vast knowledge and felt honored that he’d made one for me - even though he was mad.

  I bit back tears, missing Kai and feeling a deep sense of regret over our first fight. Kai might not be mortal, but as he’d pointed out when questioning my own human status, the one test that would give a definitive answer had dire consequences if we were wrong. I just couldn’t gamble on that, even if it caused strife between us.

  I was double-checking my stockpile and feeling pretty good about my plan to put out the magical fire. I looked at the stone that I’d collected from the catacombs and the inscription of the twisted snake carved on the surface. The stone was a pale shade of tan and the carving had been worn down with time. I could feel the ancient magic contained within the object but that alone wasn’t a big help.

  “It’s not just a Roman symbol, even though you see it in some of the ancient mosaics,” I said to Ka’Tehm. I resisted the urge to trace my finger along the carving in case I accidentally invoked a spell with the action.

  “I don’t remember all of the meanings, but I’m starting to think that I need to brush up on arcane symbology. I don’t know why, but I think it’s Assyrian or Sumerian.” I picked up my phone and snapped a photo, scrolling through my contacts to find the right person to send the picture to.

  I settled on one of my former colleagues, the head of Persian Antiquities at a New York museum. We hadn’t talked in years. When I blew up my career as an archaeologist by destroying a heritage site, I didn’t exactly receive supportive and encouraging letters from other archaeologists. Right after it happened, I figured I was probably the laughingstock of the field, so catching up with old friends over drinks would have been awkward. I chose to just fade into the sunset to avoid that humiliation.

  I was sure they’d all heard about it, but I’d recently discovered someone had spelled the story, so I wasn’t recognizable as the genesis of the catastrophe. It was nice not to be infamous but also more than a little creepy since nobody knew how that sort of magic worked or why I was benefiting from it. At least I could risk the possible rejection from old friends by resurfacing and reaching out for some professional opinions.

  I also sent the photo to the person Pops suggested. Two opinions might lead to different interpretations, but that could help me unravel the mystery by considering multiple angles.

  I grabbed my nylon backpack from the closet and held it open for Ka’Tehm. He scrambled inside, and I slung the pack over my shoulders, feeling the slight chill of his water magic against the center of my back.

  “Okay, first we’re going to the library, then we’ll put out the fire in the Basilica. When that’s done, we'll go poke around the catacombs a little more. We might need to practice a little bad archaeology if you’re up to that?”

  I felt a single push in the center of my back. Ka’Tehm was up to the challenge.

  We headed out into the gathering darkness that blanketed the city. Streetlights glittered, and people strolled by, enjoying the sites and sounds. Restaurants buzzed, outdoor cafes bustled with wait staff in black pants and white shirts serving tourists and locals with rapid bursts of Italian and a few more halting phrases pulled from guidebooks or cellphones. My own head buzzed with other jinn-related alliterations. I decided jitterbugging jinn probably wasn’t what Kai was hinting at.

  I walked to the address that Pops sent me rather than take a taxi, so I could enjoy a little of Rome and let my mind wander over the mystery. Because the Empire had lasted so long and spread over such a vast geographical area, many cultures and mythologies were woven into the history. It was such a complex puzzle that Kai’s simple clue was soon overwhelmed by it.

  A Vespa scooter darted away from the curb in front of me, setting off a cacophony of horns as it zoomed off into traffic. That was the second time one of those nearly caused an accident that I witnessed. After a long walk in which I checked over my shoulder and sent out fragile tendrils of my magic to try and determine if I was being followed, I felt reasonably sure I had passed through the city unnoticed.

  Chapter 11

  The library was hidden on a side street, and a carved wooden sign depicting a simple book and key design was the only indication I was in the right place. I stepped to the heavy door and looked for some sort of magical test that I’d have to pass to gain entry, but the only thing I saw was an old bell button. I pushed it and heard it ring inside.

  The door opened after a moment, and an older man in a blue suit appeared. He was remarkably handsome, with soulful brown eyes and a gentle smile, and I put his age somewhere in his early sixties. He smiled and stepped back to allow me entry.

  “Dr. Cerasola. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” His voice rumbled with a sexy Italian accent that caressed my ears.

  Warning slithered up my spine, and I backed away a step.

  He held out his hand in an invitation and pushed the door open wider. “Please.
Come in. Christy and I are old friends. He told me you might be coming by.”

  I didn’t move or say a word because something about the man seemed too charming. Too polished. Too handsome.

  He smiled a little wider, but his eyes shone with sharp intelligence. “I am Antonio Siriano.” He placed his palm on the center of his chest, and his eyes flickered with a warmth that raised my hackles.

  The look on my face left no doubt that I wasn’t charmed by him at all. In fact, the longer I studied his gorgeous olive skin, and his manicured perfection, the more suspicious I became. His expression flashed with understanding. He chuffed lightly, and his eyes sparkled with amusement when he spoke again.

  “Please, call Dr. O’Flynn and verify. Ring the bell when you are ready.” He smiled as he closed the door in my face.

  I stood there for a moment, deciding if I really needed the library at all. After a few moments of internal debate, I decided there was no other way to get the information I needed. I pulled out my cell phone and called Pops, feeling foolish that my paranoia had hit a new level. After much laughter and a few comments about my suspicious nature, Pops vetted Antonio and disconnected.

  “You stay out of sight,” I whispered to Ka’Tehm. “You’re my secret weapon if this gets sketchy.” The magical blue beaver pressed once against my back in response.

  I pushed the bell again, and Mr. Siriano opened the door with a twinkle in his dark eyes. He swept his hand in front of him again without a word, and I stepped over the threshold in such a way that I didn’t turn my back to my host.

  “You are wise to be cautious here in Roma.” Mr. Siriano said, closing the door and flicking his fingers at the lock. I saw a sparkle of magic zip around the frame, and I gritted my teeth. He turned and beckoned me forward. I took a deep breath and walked behind him as he led me down the marble-tiled floor toward the back of the building, where an ancient cage-style elevator waited. I stuffed down the urge to make a heartfelt apology for my rudeness, but I couldn’t stop curiosity from getting the best of me.

  “Why does everything here make me a little leery?” I asked.

  “Because few things are as they appear in this city.” Antonio’s low laugh was as polished and stylish as he was. “I am surprised we have not met before now. I have known your family for a long while. Your father and I went to school together.”

  I stumbled over my own two feet. When he’d said my family, I had assumed he was referring to my mom’s side. Antonio turned and smiled at me with a curious expression.

  I gave him a muttered, “Oh.” and turned around as if looking for whatever had made me trip. When my gaze swung back to him, he looked apologetic.

  “I am sorry, Dr. Cerasola. I did not mean to surprise you.”

  “You didn’t.” Lies, all lies. “I don’t have any connection besides genetics to that side of the family, so they never occur to me.” I shrugged.

  It was Antonio’s turn to look surprised. “I assumed since you were here in Italy,” Concern flickered across his features, and while I didn’t particularly want any information on my father, I wanted all the details on what caused that look.

  “What did you assume?” I pressed.

  Antonio took a long moment to formulate his answer. “Perhaps I am mistaken.”

  I shook my head and smiled. “The look on your face tells me you know something,” I said.

  “I thought perhaps Marco’s brother had reached out to you to ask for your help.” Antonio began.

  Brother? I shook my head, afraid to speak and give anything away. I blinked and let a little expectant smile settle on my face. I raised my eyebrows, and Antonio chuffed out a laugh again, catching on to my expectation that he would elaborate.

  “Your help with the troubles that are happening right now. With the jinn.” He said, looking contrite.

  I nodded. “Well, you’re half right,” I admitted, offering nothing else. I’d leave it up to Antonio to draw his own conclusions, as minimal as they would be.

  Antonio slid back the gate on the elevator and gestured for me to step inside. I held back, eliciting another soft chuckle. “So suspicious.” He whispered, stepping into the cage himself and standing so far to the side that the metal scrunched the sleeve of his expensive jacket.

  I stepped in next to him and folded my hands in front of me. “Why would you assume that my,” I searched for a term to convey my detachment, “genetics would have anything to do with helping end the jinn trouble?”

  Antonio regarded me with those expressive eyes for a moment before the corner of his mouth quirked upward. “Because Marco was brave and reckless and more powerful than any of the others. They need someone like that now, so you might be their best option.”

  Warning slammed into me, and I slipped my hand into my pocket, gripping the handle of the water pistol that contained an immobilizing spell. Antonio’s posture didn’t change, either because he wasn’t a threat or because he didn’t believe I was.

  “What makes you think I’m reckless?” I queried, diverting his attention from the more significant issue.

  Another rumble of laughter. “Marco was never content to live within the boundaries his family imposed.” He swung his gaze to me, “Don’t misunderstand; your grandfather did not intend to stifle Marco’s curiosity.” I knew he referred to the other grandfather, the one who was a stranger to me. “Arsenio was from a generation where it was best and safest to follow the regulations. It has served i tredici well since the fall of the empire and the rise of La Gilda.”

  Antonio had given me a bit of information I didn’t have earlier, and somehow the knowledge of my father’s family still being in Rome made me a little nauseous. I’d never considered who the members of La Gilda could be. I closed my eyes as an alliteration popped into my head: father’s family. Was that what Kai had been hinting at?

  I pasted a bland look on my face. Antonio had also used that term that Paolina had used in the tomb: i tredici.

  “Are the 13 bloodlines of Rome the same thing as La Gilda Maghi?” I asked, trying to hide a bit of my dread behind the more innocuous topic.

  Antonio smiled. “They would like us to believe it is now more inclusive, but they are essentially the same. When there were barbarians at the gates, i tredici tried to defend the city, but they were unsuccessful. After hiding during the years of foreign occupation, they reemerged as La Gilda Maghi and opened their ranks to allow some of those same barbarians into the fold. There are still only thirteen members of the council, though, so you can draw your own conclusion.”

  Bigotry is as old as time. “Ah. And where did Marco and his father stand on La Gilda?”

  “Arsenio and the rest of the family followed the rules, and Marco looked for ways to break them.” Antonio lifted his shoulder and smiled. “I have heard it is a trait you might have inherited.”

  Antonio had a gift for setting me on edge every three or four sentences. I shook my head. “Whoever told you that was wrong. I love rules. I’m actually here to make sure nobody violates the rules of the Benedicaria.” Well, nobody except me.

  Antonio made a non-committal noise as the elevator slid to a jarring stop. Cool lights flickered on, showing rows of ancient manuscripts and artifacts that were all stored behind iron gates. “What are you looking for in our archive?”

  “I’m not sure, exactly.” There was no end to the lies I was telling Antonio, but I had my reasons, even if I didn’t know what they were. There was something about the charming and handsome Antonio that raised my hackles. “Let’s start with the Byzantine Empire and work our way back.”

  “Very well.” Antonio unlocked one of the gates, and I noticed the small track recessed into the floor. The thin rail ran down the center between the stacks before branching off at T-intersections and running straight down each aisle. Antonio walked to the left, away from where the manuscripts were, and a whirring noise began. A small cart with what looked like an old wooden school desk attached to the front slid toward me. Antonio toggle
d a little lever on the wall, and the contraption stopped in front of me.

  “It’s a large archive.” He said, sliding onto the bench seat. He smiled at me, making an elegant invitation with his hand for me to join him. I pulled off my backpack with Ka’Tehm inside and slid in, carefully placing my concealed companion between my feet.

  The cart was like a library-themed amusement park ride operated by a scary yet extremely handsome clown.

  Antonio didn’t need any special powers to pick up on my unease. I was scrunched as far away from him as possible with one cheek of my behind hanging off the edge of the bench.

  He turned his beautiful eyes to me. “I am a half-breed, Dr. Cerasola. Demone e Stregone. We are more common than most people know, and we can choose to repel or seduce. I would rather people fear me than find me irresistible. It works out better in the long run for both parties, but I do apologize for the discomfort you are experiencing.”

  I tried to act perfectly calm, finding out I was in a deserted library several stories underground with a half-demon, half-sorcerer as my guide. Pops had vetted him, though, so Antonio probably wasn’t going to use me for a blood sacrifice in the library.

  “That’s fine. Consider me duly repelled.” I said, not lying at all that time but not feeling much better despite Antonio’s confession.

  He pushed a lever with his elegant fingers, and the cart slid along the track as I watched the stacks pass by. The cart slowed and swiveled to the side, sliding between a wall of books and a glass case that emanated a faint tingle of magic. I looked behind me at the objects inside the case, and my breath caught.

  “Wait!” I said, holding up my hand. “Can we go back?”

  Antonio reversed direction and lined us up with the case. He pushed another lever, and the cart pivoted, so we were facing the objects that were displayed under bright lights. I looked at him and asked permission to get a closer look.