All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, or events, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
Copyright © 2019 by Camille Douglass
All rights reserved.
Cursed Lines
First Publication: February 2019
Dead Mouse on Cheese Publishing
ISBN: 978-1-950163-02-1 (ebook)
ISBN: 978-1-950163-03-8 (paperback)
Cover Art: Deranged Doctor Design
For Wamsy, a.k.a. Danielle, my favorite sister
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
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
About the Author
1
“Seriously? You expect me to put a black sack on my head and let you drive me to God knows where?” I stifled a yawn, hiding it behind my hand as I leaned against the doorjamb of my front door.
“The queen requires you. This is a normal security procedure.” The goblin woman in front of me was probably aiming for cajoling, but all I heard was annoyed.
The feeling was mutual.
“I get that, I really do, but I just got home from Boot Camp. Even my pinkies hurt. Did you know that finger muscles could hurt?” After six weeks at a Mercenary Boot Camp for witches and a flight from Chicago, my plan for the evening included pizza, movies, and kitty cuddles for as long as Cheddar tolerated them before clawing his way to freedom.
This time, the goblin couldn’t stop herself from rolling her eyes. “I am a warrior. I know just how much everything can hurt.”
Touché. My training probably amounted to remedial kindergarten for a goblin warrior. “Yeah, well I’m not used to it. Any chance we could reschedule this? I’m free all day tomorrow.”
“The queen does not follow your schedule.”
Realizing this was not something I could avoid, I used every ounce of willpower I possessed to stop myself from slamming my front door in the woman’s face. “Okay, then can I have an hour to freshen up at least?”
She took in my coffee-stained jeans, ratty tennis shoes, and frizzy ponytail, and winced. “I am sorry, but we do not have time. We are already behind schedule.”
I debated telling the lackey to inform the queen to shove it where the sun didn’t shine, but I hadn’t just spent six weeks and a couple grand trying to become a better Fortune for nothing. Telling the queen of another magical race to shove off would be stupid and likely make me a political pariah, possibly worse. Who knew what happened to people that pissed off Queen Delmy? It was in my best interests not to find out.
“Fine, but I’m not putting on the bag until I’m in the car. My neighbors already think I’m weird. And I need to get my purse and feed my cat. I’ll be out in five.”
Closing the door on the goblin, I turned and went through the small foyer to the kitchen at the back of the house. I opened a can of tuna for my cat, while he weaved around my legs purring.
“That’s right, baby, mama missed you. You’re gonna get tuna for a week.” Once I plopped the tuna into his bowl, he immediately ignored me. Sighing, I grabbed my purse, checking to see that my phone and keys were safely tucked inside before walking out. The nameless goblin sat in a black sedan with the engine running. I locked the deadbolt, quickly checked my wards, and approached the vehicle. When I climbed into the passenger seat she handed over the black hood wordlessly.
“Can you drive to the corner at least?”
She sighed and drove to the end of the street. I put the hood on without further comment.
Initially I paid attention to which direction we were driving, but with my eyes covered, the smooth drive of the luxury sedan soon lulled me to sleep. I awoke when the car hit gravel, knocking my head against the window. Disoriented, I reached to pull off the hood.
“Don’t take it off,” the woman warned me.
My mind snapped into focus, and I relaxed a little in my seat as we jostled along. My mouth felt like cotton. I found a good reason to wear the hood. I may have been drooling in my sleep and the black fabric hid the evidence. The car came to a stop.
“Stay in your seat. I’ll come around to get you.”
I heard her exit the vehicle and felt the cool December air hit me as she opened my door. Unsnapping the seat belt, I let her help me out. My feet met gravel, and I stumbled behind the goblin as she haphazardly dragged me along.
When I tripped over what felt like a large rock, I snapped. “I agreed to meet with your queen not be led off a cliff.”
The woman snorted but didn’t say anything. She came to a sudden stop, and I ran into her back before righting myself. She began to chant softly in a language I didn’t understand, but my magic perked up and rushed forward to tickle my skin. The chanting stopped, and beneath my feet, the earth began to rumble. It probably should have freaked me out, but magic wasn’t always subtle. After six weeks of intense magical training, my reaction was to yawn under my hood. Once again, the sucker came in handy as the goblin couldn’t see my face under the fabric so I didn’t have to pretend to be impressed.
She grabbed my hand and dragged me forward once more. Soon the gravel path turned to what felt like smooth stone. Blindfolded, I started to focus on my other senses, namely my magic. A magic scan was somewhat rude, but the goblins’ own magic wouldn’t sense it, and after the hood, I lacked my normal manners. There were roughly ten goblins in the general vicinity but nowhere near me. Beyond them was the earth magic goblins possessed, blanketing the atmosphere. It was a magic I was intimately familiar with, thanks to a recently discovered goblin ancestor somewhere back in my family line. In a happy accident, this heritage led to being gifted with my very own goblin plane, though my newly discovered bloodline and the whole owning of a plane thing wasn’t common knowledge. The existence of goblin planes weren’t common knowledge outside of the goblin community.
My musings ended when I ran into her back yet again, and someone cleared their throat. The hood was yanked off, and I blinked a moment to clear my vision before I noticed the candlelit splendor before me. From the polished stone floor and stalactite shadows dancing in the dim light to the lavish Persian rugs and brocade-covered sofas, the cavern was a study in contradiction. The throne poised in the middle of it all completed the grandeur.
Artfully arranged metals shaped into a wingback chair with burgundy leather cushions. It wasn’t a stereotypical throne, but my skin tingled lightly at the waves of power radiating from it. Distracted by the chair, I failed to notice the approaching woman until the goblin who drove me here stepped swiftly behind me.
Despite the room’s splendor, I didn’t know how I’d missed her presence. She was stunning. Long dark hair braided intricately hung in a rope over her shoulder. The eyes she shared with her son matched the deep-blue tunic she wore, which added an elegant touch to her dark pants a
nd heeled boots. She was shorter than my five seven, but her presence made me feel like David to her Goliath. Unfortunately, I’d left my slingshot at home. I reached up to try to smooth my fly-aways, self-conscious of the wreck I must resemble.
She let me stare for a good thirty seconds before the corner of her mouth twitched. My mind told me that this would be a good time to introduce myself, but my tongue decided to stay glued to the roof of my mouth.
Finally, she inclined her head and put me out of my misery. “So, this is the little halfling that’s been driving my son crazy and claiming her own plane in my domain.” Her face remained stoic but the twitch at the corner of her mouth gave away her amusement.
“My family isn’t sure about which relative it would be, so I think that halfling would be overstating it.” My mouth and brain decided to reconnect and the words fell out.
She quirked a brow. “Do you think someone with such a low percent would really be able to ensorcell a plane?”
“Really it was George who ensorcelled me.”
“George?”
Perhaps I should impale myself on one of stalactites now? “It was weird to call it my plane, the plane, plane, so I named it…George.”
She laughed then, deep and rich. “We do name our planes as they are sentient, but I’ve never heard of one named George.” She looked behind me. “Let’s keep that to ourselves, Griselda,” she addressed the woman behind me.
Suddenly, I felt like kind of a dick for not asking the woman’s name. To be fair, she’d come to my house ten minutes after I arrived home and basically demanded I consent to my own abduction. Staying on the conversational track, I asked, “Am I not supposed to tell people its name?”
“It’s not usually discussed outside of close personal friends. I’m surprised Deval hasn’t mentioned that to you.”
Heat flooded my cheeks. The last time I’d seen her son Deval was right after we found the man who had stolen from him. That was the same time Deval implied he wanted to be more than friends. Shortly afterward, Pammy, sheriff of the Arizona witches and my boss, informed me about a last-minute training at a Fortune Boot Camp in Illinois. Because of the short notice, the organizers had lowered the price of the training from four grand to two. Despite the fact it wiped out quite a bit of my savings, it seemed like a good investment after my near-death experience on my last case. Even if it meant missing Thanksgiving. “I haven’t seen much of Deval recently, given that I’ve been out of town.”
“Yes, I heard you’ve been away. I think my son has missed being called to your plane, I’m sorry, George.”
“Uh yeah, now that I’m back, I’m sure I’ll invite him over,” I muttered.
She arched a brow briefly before continuing. “Not a bad idea, however that is not why I asked you here.”
“Asked” was overstating things, but I bit my tongue. My new training was already paying off.
“I’m very glad you found the human thief,” she continued. “Still, there is no way that a mortal male should have found the safe’s original location unaided. He had to have had help, and I want you to find that help. Obviously, I will pay you.”
My stomach twisted. Even with the new training, getting a job from the Queen of the goblins was intimidating and frankly a bit out of my wheelhouse. “It’s not that I don’t want to see that aspect through, Your Highness, but I have other obligations.” I fibbed.
Her smile became brittle. I doubted she was ever told no. “Isn’t a Soldier of Fortune, by definition, someone for hire?”
“Sure, in the classic definition, but in relation to witches, you know Pammy is the deciding factor in the jobs I take.” I paused, then barreled forward: “I’m assuming you want me to take it because I’m an outsider with no strong ties to your community, but apparently I am one of you, at least in part.”
“Deval said you were smart.” She kept her face blank despite the compliment.
At that my inner twelve-year-old preened. “Problem is, I don’t want Pammy knowing about my heritage, something even your son told me not to share. If I did, only more questions would come out of it. I don’t want to be maimed or killed because I inadvertently told Pammy about the planes.”
She waved her hand in the air. “Don’t be silly. I’ve already spoken with Pammy, informing her I want you because of your knowledge of the human thief.”
“Well, you should have led with that, but you’re a fool if you think Pammy doesn’t suspect that something else is going on.” As soon as I said “fool,” my stomach dropped, but it was too late.
If her eyes were freeze rays, I’d be a Peg Popsicle right about now. “I am many things Ms. Darrow, fool is not one of them. I have no doubt that Pammy is well aware of some of our secrets, but I do not like making it easy for her. Besides, given your newfound heritage and inheritance, I would think you, too, would want to keep our secrets.”
“I’m not against keeping your secrets, Your Highness, and I will, but I was a witch long before I knew I was part goblin. At the end of the day, Pammy is my boss. More than that, she is our protector, and I wouldn’t do anything I feel would betray her.” Behind me, Griselda let out a grunt, and I tried to hide my wince. Maybe I’d said the wrong thing. Again.
The queen stared at me, bringing up her hand to tap her chin thoughtfully with an index finger. “I do appreciate honesty. As of right now, I don’t believe there will be a conflict of interest. Besides, Pammy has already given her blessing at my hiring you. Are you interested in the job?”
Considering I’d just shelled out two grand, she already had Pammy’s blessing, and my back was pretty much against I wall, I was interested. There went the dream of spending a couple of days of being a couch potato. “What’s the pay?”
“If you find out how the safe was stolen within a week, I can pay five thousand.”
“I’ll do it,” I said before my brain properly processed the offer. I was paid three thousand to catch a killer six weeks before, and it was only because the tentative connection to the vampires. The wheels in my brain turned slowly as I tried to convince myself that the imminent payday was because this woman was wealthy. It wasn’t working. “I mean, why so much?” Peg Darrow, Master of Negotiation, not.
She smiled. “Second thoughts so soon?”
“Uh, yeah. Most of the time I do think before I speak, but when you throw out large numbers like that, my filter becomes a little lax.”
She laughed softly. “I may have been guilty of that in my youth.”
A snort sounded from Griselda.
Delmy’s gaze swept to the goblin warrior, and the queen arched a brow. “Hmm?”
I turned to look at Griselda and was surprised to find the warrior bashfully staring at her feet. “Nothing, ma’am.”
Not wanting to extend her discomfort, I turned my attention back to the queen. “Why are you willing to pay such a high price?”
“Are you asking what the catch is?”
“Are you actually going to tell me what it is?” I asked, my body stiffened.
“Why not? Just do one thing for me first.”
“Um, you’re not asking me to murder anyone, right?”
She didn’t miss a beat. “Not this time.”
I swallowed.
She looked thoughtfully around the room before returning her gaze to me. “Please run an aura scan. I have my own magics at work, but one can never be too careful.”
That wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. “What exactly would you like me to scan for?”
“Any presence or magic that could be listening in.”
Peg Darrow, witch counter-surveillance device. I called my magic to me. After the past six weeks of training, it had only grown stronger, and I was in my secret element. Goblins had innate magic, but they could build on their natural skills by pulling it from the earth and the precious metals and stones kept protected on their personal planes. Purely by accident, I’d learned my witch batteries got a big dose of energy from being on my plane and surr
ounded by stone. All of the benefits of goblin magic, with the added fluidity of witch magic. Deval and his mother weren’t the only ones who wanted to keep my goblin heritage secret. Self-preservation was a wonderful motivator.
The magic flowed through me then reached out to caress the surrounding cavern before sinking past it, into the heart of the mountain. The same group of goblins I picked up on when I was first brought in were still out there, but well away from the chamber I stood in. Not picking anything up on the initial sweep, I turned my concentration to the room itself. It was warded, yes, but since I had the queen’s permission, the wards kindly acquiesced to my explorative energy. Ten minutes later, I could say with confidence no one was listening besides Griselda, and I did.
Delmy’s shoulders appeared to relax, but I couldn’t be certain. “Good, one can never be too careful.”
I nodded.
“What do you know of Prince Faxon?”
“He’s your brother, right?”
“Yes, younger brother by about one hundred years. The moppet still thinks because he is male, he should be King.”
“Sounds like an interesting family dynamic,” I hedged.
Delmy gave me a thoughtful look. “See, you are capable of diplomacy. I thought so. He’s an ass, but beyond being an ass, I believe he, or possibly one of his house, has traitorous intentions.”
Oh dear lord. How did I keep getting these wonderful assignments? “Is that so,” I squeaked out.
“Very much so.” She walked over to a freestanding bar, collected three rocks glasses, and then poured amber liquor into each. “Come here, Peg. You, too, Griselda. You’ve had a trying day.”
Cursed Lines (A Peg Darrow Novel Book 2) Page 1
