Seeking Magic

by Eden Briar

  “Bike’s mine,” he says, jerking his thumb toward it. “Normally I’d take it, but it’ll leave us a little too exposed. The car will be safer.”

  He opens the passenger door, and I raise my eyebrows.

  “Who says chivalry’s dead?” he teases.

  “And here I thought you were letting me drive,” I say, my delivery deadpan.

  He hesitates, then holds out the keys. I feel a burst of warmth at the gesture but wave him away. “I’m a little off my game right now.” That, and the car is a stick shift. I doubt Evan would be too impressed if I ruined his clutch.

  “Can’t say I blame you.”

  We get in and buckle up as the garage door rises, and then we’re pulling out into the street. Jazz mutters something under his breath as we round the next corner at speed.

  “About where we’re going…” I start, realizing we haven’t had this conversation yet.

  “Wait until we’re out of the city, and then we’ll talk,” he says, his voice tight.

  I turn my gaze to the windows and mirrors, trying to pinpoint the source of his unease, but I give up after a few minutes. If we’re being followed, they’re being careful about it.

  We join the highway leaving the city, get in lane, and Jazz turns on the cruise control.

  “So, you wanted to discuss our destination?”

  “I need to see Lincoln, make sure he’s okay. And go home, I guess.”

  The sideways glance Jazz gives me speaks volumes.

  “Where’s home?”

  “Greenville.”

  “And we’ll find your boss there?”

  “Uh-huh. He’ll be in the office.” I speak with more confidence than I feel.

  After last night, Lincoln might very well be reporting me missing in a police station somewhere, or lying dead in an alleyway. But if Jazz was right, and the vampires had let him go, then he was waiting for me to contact him. So he’d be exactly where he’d expect me to look for him.

  “It’s Saturday morning.”

  “He’s a workaholic. Works hard, plays hard.” Hence his penchant for underground casinos.

  After a pause, Jazz nods. “Greenville it is. We’ll swing by his office and take it from there. But Indy…” He hesitates.

  “What?”

  “He might not be exactly as you remember him.”

  “What do you mean?” My heart hammers in my chest as I ask. “He won’t be a vampire, will he?” The thought hadn’t occurred to me up until now, but now that I’ve had it, it terrifies me.

  “No,” Jazz says immediately. “As far as the vampires are concerned, he was an innocent bystander.”

  “Right. My ‘pet’ human. So what did they do to him?”

  Jazz makes a face. “I can’t say for certain. Look, maybe just try calling him once he gets into the office. Okay?”

  “Okay,” I echo back, feeling small and guilt-stricken. Jazz is making it very clear that something has happened to Lincoln, something bad. And it is all my fault.

  We reach the outskirts of Greenville just after seven. I take a chance and call Linc’s office. The phone rings, and I start to think it’s too early when he picks up.

  “Lincoln Holmes.”

  “Linc, thank god. It’s me. Are you okay?”

  There’s a pause before he asks. “Who is this?”

  “It’s Indy.” I shift closer to the window, thinking it might be a bad line.

  “Indy,” he repeats slowly. “I think you’ve got the wrong number.”

  “No, Lincoln. It’s me, Indigo. You know, your personal assistant?”

  “I think you must have me confused with someone else,” he says. Before I can get another word out, he hangs up.

  There’s a long silence as I try to work out what the hell just happened.

  “Indy?” Jazz’s voice calls softly.

  “He hung up on me. He pretended he didn’t know who I was.”

  A dark expression crosses Jazz’s face.

  “What?” I demand to know. Clearly, I’m missing something.

  “He might not have been pretending. Vampires—that’s something they can do, mess with people’s minds, their memories. Make people forget things.”

  “No.” I shake my head. “Linc would never forget me. He wouldn’t.”

  Jazz opens his mouth to speak, but I interrupt before he can.

  “No, he’s probably just trying to protect me. I need to see him, to straighten this mess out.”

  Lincoln is like a brother to me, the closest thing I have to family. I need him.

  Jazz is looking unhappier by the second, but he reluctantly agrees.

  “Which way?” he asks.

  “Take the next left.”

  The closer we get to the office, the tenser Jazz seems, and the more anxious I feel. He insists on pulling in out of sight around the side of the building and staying close to me as we make our way to the back entrance. I use my code to get inside, taking a quick look around for the weekend security guard. Security is pretty lax on the weekends, and I’m confident I can talk my way out of any trouble if they catch me sneaking Jasper into the building.

  I head toward the elevators, but Jasper redirects me to the stairs.

  “Which floor?” he asks.

  “Fourth.”

  When we reach it, I go to push the door open, but Jazz stops me, putting a finger to his lips. I’m not sure what he’s listening for, but a moment later he nods, clearly satisfied.

  “He’s alone.”

  “Who were you expecting?”

  He simply shrugs and gestures me onward. I need no further encouragement. I’m desperate to see Linc for myself, to make sure he’s okay.

  I rush down the corridor and into our offices, past my desk, and through the door into Linc’s office. As I cross the threshold, I come to an abrupt stop. Linc is sitting at his desk like normal, wearing a shirt with the first few buttons undone, looking like he always does on a weekend.

  “What was that crap on the phone, Lincoln?” I demand, relief flooding me when I see he’s in one piece.

  His eyes narrow in confusion.

  “How did you get in here?”

  “Don’t give me that, I work here. What the hell happened last night?”

  Lincoln gets to his feet slowly, holding his hands out and lowering his voice.

  “Look, I don’t know how you got in here but I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

  I scan his face, but there’s no hint that he’s joking, that he’s anything but serious.

  “Linc, it’s me. It’s Indy.”

  He blinks at that. “I’m sorry. Indy, was it? I don’t think we’ve met.”

  “I’m your PA,” I insist, gesturing toward my desk outside. “I work for you. I’m your friend. I was a temp for Andrew, and you hired me.”

  That single decision had changed the course of my life. Before that, I’d been struggling to keep my head above water and so, so lonely. Lincoln was my lifeline. He couldn’t have forgotten who I was.

  Lincoln reaches for his phone, presses a button, and holds it to his ear.

  “Security? There’s an intruder up on the fourth floor, room seven. She seems… confused. Could you come up here and escort her to the exit?”

  “Linc,” I whisper, feeling tears gather in my eyes. “Please.”

  “Indy,” Jazz says from behind me. “It’s time to go.”

  “No, no. You can’t just… you know me, Linc, please. Check your phone, your email, my desk. Whose handwriting is that?” I point to a Post-it note stuck to his computer screen. “Who’s your partner in crime when you want to hit the casinos? Come on, Lincoln. You’ve been my rock for three years, you’re like a brother to me. You don’t just forget that.”

  He sits back down slowly, his hands flat on the desk, his gaze turning sympathetic.

  “I can see you’re upset, and I’m sorry. I don’t know what to tell you. I’m not who you think I am. I don’t have an assistant, gambling is not my forte, and
I’ve never had a sister.”

  His words are like a blow to the chest, pain radiating outward from my heart.

  “Linc…”

  Jazz grabs my arm, tugging me backward.

  “Indy, we’ve got to go. Right now.”

  He drags me toward the exit, and I move with him, but my eyes never leave Lincoln as tears trail freely down my face. My oldest friend, my only friend, watches me impassively, like I’m a stranger.

  5

  “Indy.”

  I surface to Jazz saying my name over and over.

  “What?” I don’t even know what I’m asking.

  “We need to decide our next move.”

  My life has just shattered into a million pieces.

  “Well, I guess I need to go home and find a new job, and—”

  He presses a hand to my arm. “It’s not that simple, Indy. Vampires have long memories; they won’t just forget. And anything Lincoln knows about you, they know.”

  I freeze at that. Lincoln knows everything—almost everything—about me. I’ve kept stuff back, the murky warnings from my childhood never far from my mind, but he knew more about me than anyone else on earth.

  Stricken, I turn to Jazz. “Lincoln knows where I live.”

  “Then the vampires know too. You can’t stay in this town.”

  “Where will I go?”

  “You can come back with me.”

  “But Evan said…”

  “Not to Bristol, that’s not where I’m from. We’ll head to Newoak. That’s where our guild house is located.”

  “Guild house?”

  “Part-school, part-training center. It’s a place for half-bloods like us.”

  It’s the ‘us’ that gets me. Having just been cast adrift by Lincoln, the idea that there is somewhere in the world that I’d be welcome, that I might belong, sends an ache through my chest.

  “My apartment,” I say. “All my stuff…”

  He checks his watch. “We have time yet. We can go get it, but we’ll have to be careful.”

  Being that it’s Saturday, we pull up outside my apartment only twenty minutes later. I move to get out, but Jazz stops me, driving around to the next street.

  “What?” I ask. It’s still daylight, there’s no danger of vampires now.

  “Just taking precautions. Clarys aren’t the only people known to use humans as proxies.”

  “There’s no back way into my apartment block,” I point out as we step onto the street. “We’ll have to run the gauntlet.”

  He aims a mischievous grin my way. “I have a better idea.”

  Five minutes later, we’re in the alleyway behind my building, staring up at the dilapidated fire escape.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  “Half-shifter, remember? It’ll be just like the fence last night.”

  Hard to believe that was only yesterday.

  He stands behind me, putting his hands on my waist, his grip warm and strong, then tosses me up into the air. I grab hold of the edge of the broken fire escape and pull myself up onto it. I’m almost there when Jazz lands on the metal platform next to me. He holds out a hand, but I ignore it. I know I can do this. When I get my feet under me and stand, he gives me a nod of respect.

  We continue up to the seventh floor, and Jazz forces the window of my apartment open. He insists on climbing inside first to check things out. I stand there, my arms folded, less than impressed when he finally invites me inside.

  “All clear,” he says. “No one’s here, no one’s been here, not yet.”

  Well, that’s a relief.

  “But they may just be waiting for you to return before they make their move.”

  Relief flies out the window. “Then I guess I should hurry?”

  “Fast is good. I can help…”

  “No, I’ve got this.”

  The sum total of my life is in this apartment, and I have to pack it up in minutes under the threat of attack by vampires. How has it come to this?

  I grab a backpack and a duffel bag from my closet and pack the essentials into the backpack—documents, toiletries—before shoving as many clothes as I can fit into the duffel bag. There’s no time for anything else.

  When I leave the bedroom, Jazz is already waiting by the window.

  “Ready?”

  It’s not just things I’m leaving behind. It’s my home, three years of my life. It’s the safety and security of knowing I always have somewhere to come back to. And now I’ve got nothing.

  “I’m ready.”

  We’re back on the road a while before the question hits me.

  “Where did you say we were going again?”

  “The city of Newoak.”

  “Never heard of it.”

  Jazz doesn’t blink at that.

  “Well, you have spent your life living as a human, and they can’t find our cities. Only stands to reason you wouldn’t have heard of a city built by magic users. Almost all the races have a base there.”

  “Wait, there are vampires there?”

  “Of course.”

  I clench my hands into fists to keep them from shaking. “How does bringing me to a city with more vampires help keep me safe from vampires?”

  Jazz taps the steering wheel impatiently.

  “I told you, that’s where our guild house is. It’s like the house in Bristol, only bigger and safer.”

  I let my head rest against the window and change the subject. “The city is invisible?”

  “Not in the way you’re thinking. There are complex spells woven into the city’s foundations, its boundaries. All roads that enter the city have bypasses that filter out those who aren’t magic. Most humans just drive on by, never even noticing we’re there.”

  “Would I?”

  As convinced as Jazz seems to be that I’m part of his world, I still have my doubts.

  “Wow, the denial is pretty strong with you, huh?”

  I hide my face against the door, and he chuckles. “Yeah, if I was you, I’d probably feel the same way.”

  He straightens in his seat. “The city will be coming into view any second now.”

  It’s enough to get me to lift my head. I’m just in time to catch the first glimpse of my new home in the dark. Maybe it’s the city’s glow after miles and miles of empty desert, but my breath catches.

  “Pretty lights,” I murmur.

  “Well, that proves it. You’ve got magic in your blood, or you wouldn’t be able to see the ‘pretty lights.’”

  Jazz makes it sound like it’s a done thing, a certainty, and all because I can see a city that is pretty fucking hard to ignore. Maybe he’s pulling my leg, or maybe the world is just that crazy.

  “Wait, is that a tree?”

  Right in the center of the city, on a low hill, is a huge tree that seems to glow in the night.

  “Oh, yeah. The oak tree. Newoak, remember? It’s the heart of the city, where the magic is centered. It’s actually pretty cool. Newoak was the first multilocational city ever built. Magic far ahead of its time.”

  “Multilocational?”

  “Yeah, it…” Jazz hesitates. “It’s tricky to explain. The city exists in more than one location at the same time. Different roads out lead to different places. This is the U.S. exit.”

  “Where else do the roads go?”

  “Europe mostly. Newoak is kind of… old world. There are other cities like it now, more modern, connecting Africa, Asia, the Americas.”

  I sit up as we enter the city, my eyes taking in everything. Mostly it looks like any city I’ve ever been in before but, now and then, I catch sight of something that makes me blink.

  “Is the water in that fountain… flowing up?”

  Jazz doesn’t even look where I’m pointing.

  “That park was designed by an old sorcerer. Rumor has it he used to create some wickedly powerful weapons. Now, he gardens.”

  “Retirement, huh? Creating magical water features. Sounds… relaxing.”
<
br />   Something else Jazz just told me sticks in my mind. “Sorcerers are one of the magic races, right?”

  “That’s right.”

  “So that’s clairvoyants, spellcasters, and sorcerers. Wait, you said there were four. Which one am I missing?”

  “Druids,” Jazz says. “They’re actually the ones who founded this city. It was originally the center of druidic power in the old world.”

  “Druids… like crusty old guys wearing cloaks with flowers in their hair?”

  “You might be confusing them with aging hippies.”

  We pull around a corner, and a large building comes into view.

  “This is us,” Jazz says. “The Guild House of Harmony and Cooperation. Races united under one roof, yada, yada, yada.”

  “It’s not all happy families?”

  “You’ll understand when we explain a bit more about our history.”

  “But you said it was safe, right?” Worry starts creeping into my mind.

  “Yep, home away from home. Or, in my case, just home.”

  Jazz pulls around the back and drives down a ramp to a parking garage, the door rising as we idle in front of it.

  A few minutes later, we’re climbing up a set of stairs, me with my backpack over one shoulder. Jazz is carrying a backpack of his own and my duffel.

  There’s a door at the top of the stairs, and through it, another mirror room. This time, as I stare at the truth of my reflection, it’s not so shocking.

  “Do all guild houses have mirrors like these?”

  “Sure. Stops people who aren’t who or what they seem from getting inside. Most of the time, anyway.”

  “You mean people like me?”

  “That’s different. I think you were more surprised than I was.” The door beside us clicks open. “Come on, let’s head inside. I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.”

  “I could eat.” I follow him out, almost walking into his back before I realize he’s stopped walking.

  “Hey, guys,” Jazz says loudly. “Nice of you all to gather here to welcome me home. But I’ve only been gone, like, a week, so you probably didn’t need—”

  “Evan called to let us know you were coming,” a dry voice says.

  I peer around Jazz to see three people blocking our path. The taller man in the middle is the one who spoke. To his left is a woman who’s about my height, athletic, and frowning unhappily. To his right is another man who looks a lot like Evan. Scratch that, he looks exactly like Evan.