by CC Dragon
Alaskan Magic
Shadows of Alaska Book 1
By CC Dragon
Table of Contents
Title Page
Alaskan Magic (Shadows of Alaska, #1)
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Special Preview of Alaskan Bones
About the Author
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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Alaskan Magic Book 1
Copyright © 2019
By CC Dragon
Cover art by Fiona Jayde
Edited by: Leona Bushman
Proofed by: Angela Campbell
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.
Blurb
Paranormal kids begin disappearing at higher rates, and the only people who can save them are at odds.
FBI Special Agent Dot Foster keeps tabs on magical cases, but even with everything she’s seen over the years, her most recent case has her stumped.
The only thing half-fae Dot can tell for certain is that dark supernatural forces are behind it. With her human partner out of commission, Dot drags a former agent onto the case. Mason is smart, hot, and magical. They have a complicated past, but she didn’t expect him to be a distraction.
Mason’s much younger sister might be the next target. He’s not willing to trust anyone else to save her...but if he doesn’t respect Dot’s unique gifts, his stubbornness may cost them all their lives.
Chapter One
Alaska was a great place to disappear. If you wanted to live off the grid in a shack far from anyone else, you could. If you wanted to live in a big city, no problem. If you were big time magical and wanted to hide out in an enchanted village with your own kind, no one would probably notice. I’d never lived anywhere else, and I couldn’t imagine it.
Perfect for misfits like me.
As weird as Alaska could be, routines happened just like anywhere. The various shades of berry which decorated my favorite diner, Jen’s Jams, soothed me. I sat, as usual, in the far booth and enjoyed being a regular. No one took notice of me or my magic. Frequenting largely human establishments was a habit, and they rarely noticed me.
Not that I was ignored. People cared. If you were broken down on the side of the road, they’d stop and help. But they also largely minded their own business. People moved here to escape various things. You could go about your own business without judgement or interference, for the most part.
My usual booth was chosen with purpose. I had a good view of the door, which was another old habit. As Jen senior, a plump blonde in her fifties, refreshed my coffee, I gave her an appreciative smile.
“Hey, Dot. Zelda running late again?” Jen asked.
“For her, that’s on time,” I joked. My old friend and I did breakfast once a week to catch up and chat outside of work—to avoid being overheard. It wasn’t a gossip thing, every office had that. She was one of the very few people at the Anchorage FBI field office who knew the truth about me.
Special Agent Dot (yes, short for Dorothy and I hated it) Foster—FBI. It was a good cover. Not that I needed a cover. I wasn’t an alien or anything. My mother just happened to be a Fae witch. My father being human, my magical gifts were low level and spotty. Then again, my mom demonstrated more of an interest in protecting humans from the many and varied groups of magical beings who filled Alaska.
Joining the FBI was my way of helping protect humans from paras or magicals when law enforcement had to get involved. Usually the paras just glamoured the humans and got away with murder...or more.
No one suspected a thing. According to my human partner, Mitch, I was a pintsized spitfire with good instincts. Brown eyes, long brown pin straight hair and a wiry frame—I was often underestimated and that suited me just fine.
Most of the cases I worked on had no magical angles, but the few cases that hit the office with any magic connections ended up on my desk.
I made sure of it.
Other than that, I tried not to use magic at my work to avoid discovery. Pure humans liked the idea of magic, if they could possess it, but finding out they were the weakest beings on the planet wouldn’t go over well.
No one wanted war with the humans. Magicals generally embraced the live and let live approach with each other. If you crossed a line, there would be retaliation, but wars were rare. Some feuds existed, but they tended to stay in the grudge level and not escalate.
Groups kept to themselves if they couldn’t blend with humans. However, considering what humans did to one another on a regular basis, magicals saw no benefit in exposing themselves.
I should take a week off and travel the state, make sure the magical peace remained stable. It sounded lonely, but that was my norm. It’d be nice to have someone to share this weird life with but I had no family left and didn’t fit in with any para group properly. I slapped through the menu pages as if they’d abandoned me. Talking about this never helped. Zel would remind me I didn’t have to be in the FBI or try to help people. What else would I do with my life? I glanced around, feeling like I was being watched.
Whenever I grew too introspective, I ended up paranoid. Poor magical misfit. That line of thought would only ruin my day. I cleared my throat and inspected the jellies on the table. No grape! Instead of bothering the staff, I saved us all time and waved at the container. All of the jellies magically turned grape.
Checking the menu for the specials, I checked the door. I noticed a woman at the counter shooting a look in my direction.
She whispered something to Jen Junior, the daughter of the woman currently roaming and refilling coffee. Jen Jr. nodded and seemed to take the woman’s order. They were talking about me. That wasn’t magical, just good investigative instinct.
I debated what approach to take—magical eavesdropping or just going over there. Instead, Zelda blew into the diner like a Broadway diva. Her oversized puffy coat and large handbag were both a bright shade of neon blue. The dress she wore underneath was a leopard pattern. Her big black boots were an amazing combination for fashion and function.
“Sorry, I’m
late.” She flopped into the booth across from me. “Moose in the road.”
“That’s what you always say.” It could very well be true, but every time? “Did the dog eat your cell phone too?”
“Haha. It takes effort to look this good. You play it so safe.” She frowned.
“I fit in with a bunch of agents.” Pants suits were functional, professional, and let’s face it—when the weather got this bad, who wanted to wear a skirt?
Zel, that’s who.
“You don’t have to dress like a man to beat them,” Zel teased.
“I’m not trying to beat anyone.” I smiled at Jen Sr. as she came over.
“Ready to order?” Jen asked.
We gave our orders, and the discrete waitress wandered off.
Zelda smiled. “Fine. At least you get your nails done. The winter is so hard on skin and nails.”
My French tips were predictable but looked clean and professional. I wasn’t trying to beat the men I worked with so much as not be detected as magical. I was quirky in that I didn’t worry about promotions—that’s how they saw me—not a threat. I had to fit in in other ways.
“You need a boyfriend,” Zel said.
I rolled my eyes. “We’re supposed to be talking about stuff at work, not getting me a date. You can beat that dead moose at the office.”
“This is about what we can’t talk about at the office.” Zel shook her head. “You need a man. You’re pushing thirty, never married, and there are plenty of single men around who’d like to date you. If it’s your secret, find a magical guy.”
“I could make one up if it’ll end this conversation,” I pondered.
Zel rolled her eyes. “Why not just date a human?”
My stomach knotted up. Why not? My mom had done it, but somehow, I couldn’t imagine that. I wanted to be deep in the magical world, but I belonged nowhere. At least nowhere I was wanted. “I know what it’s like to be a mixed-up product of that. I don’t belong to either world. It’s a really crappy way to live, and my life is complicated enough.”
“This is about your kids then. At least you have a biological clock.” Zel grinned.
Our food arrived, and I focused on eating. “Everyone does. You’re not married. Why don’t we talk about your love life?”
“I’ve got two ex-husbands. Trust me, kid free isn’t a bad thing. You need some fun, not more responsibility,” Zel advised.
I nibbled on my toast with homemade grape jam and contemplated the situation. “A human would mean my kids would have more diluted magic.”
“Find a magical man then.” Zel winked.
I looked around as my cheeks burned. “It’s not that simple. The goal is stronger kids, not weaker. Powerful magicals don’t want a Fae-ish wife with glitchy powers.”
“Your powers work well when you need them.” Zel ate her breakfast and made some odd faces. It looked as if she was having a conversation in her head.
“What is it?” I asked.
“I think you’re being too picky. If you want to be single, it’s fine. Marriage isn’t for everyone. The gifts are good, though, nice party. No one says it has to be forever,” she replied.
“I’ll think about it. Anything new at the office?” I asked.
She shrugged. “Not that I’ve heard. You know how Alaska is. People die or go missing all the time. The animals, the environment, and hunting accidents. People die in a lot of ways. If I get a magical read on a case, I’ll let you know.”
“Thanks. I’m sure if we got another magical agent in Alaska, you’d be all over it.”
“Absolutely.” Zel grinned.
I sighed, partly wishing a new man would show up and shake up things. I put the wish idea out of my head and focused on Zel. Sure, we could do this only when we had a case, but then it might be suspicious or weird. A couple friends get together for a meal, and no one suspects a thing.
Other magicals didn’t have to worry about being caught so easily. They threw up a magical forcefield that blocked humans from perceiving the magic they did. I didn’t have faith in my abilities to pull that off on a lot of people. Confidence and overthinking were two pitfalls I repeatedly tripped into.
I felt a tingle and looked over at the counter again. The woman wasn’t magical, but she was talking about me. I caught her eye, and she turned away.
“Do you know the woman at the counter?” I asked.
Zel turned like she was digging through her handbag for something and caught a glimpse. She’d make a good spy. Much better than an administrative assistant to the Violent Crimes Group in our field office. She seemed to like the men in suits with guns and badges but not the danger.
“Nope, looks local, but I can’t know everyone in Anchorage,” Zel said.
I nodded. “Neither can I. Just wondered if she was staring at you, but I felt it earlier. She keeps looking over.”
“Is she one of you?” Zel asked.
I shook my head. “Maybe she suspects?”
Zel scrunched up her nose. “Nah, you’re paranoid. You look like a cop. Probably some concerned citizen.”
Paranoid and overthinking, that was me. “You’re probably right.”
As if she felt the tension and noticed me watching, Jen the younger came over. “Dot, I hate to bug you when you’re not working but that lady over at the counter wants to talk to you.”
“I’ve noticed her staring. What does she want to talk about?” I asked.
Jen nodded. “Your business. I’m not sure if it’s your area or Anchorage PD, but you can at least tell her.”
“Sure thing. No problem.” I smiled.
“Send her back here?” Jen asked.
“That’s probably for the best. The counter looks packed. I wouldn’t have noticed her if she wasn’t sitting at the end.” That was technically a lie. I’d still have felt the attention.
A few minutes later, the woman walked over.
“Hi, I’m Kim. I’m sorry to bother you, but I have to tell someone,” she said.
“I’ll go pay and powder my nose.” Zel nodded.
“I’ll get the next one, thanks, Zel,” I said.
I gestured for Kim to sit. “It’s no problem. How can I help?”
“You really are law enforcement?” she asked.
I pulled out my badge. “FBI Special Agent. Are you in danger?”
“No, no not me.” She took a deep breath.
“Okay, well, tell me the issue. What’s your concern?” I prompted her.
She smiled. “You just look young. I’m not sure if I should take this to the police. My hubby knows a few cops, so it’d get back to him if I did that. He wouldn’t be happy that I’m telling anyone.”
“I just look young. It’s a curse now, but one day, I’ll wish I’d appreciated it. Are you sure you’re not in danger?” I repeated my earlier question, since a lot of times, women didn’t want to admit it. That frustrated me the most, when people needed help but refused to admit it.
She snorted and laughed in an unsettling combo. “No, oh no. My husband would beat up anyone who looked at me wrong. He’s a big teddy bear to me. I’ve known him since high school. He’s seen something, and the man just minds his own business.”
“That’s pretty normal around here,” I said.
Kim sighed. “I know, and I try to do that. I really do, but he keeps bringing it up.”
“Maybe he should talk to the cops he already knows? Men tend to talk more to other men about thing. If I go and question him, he’d probably shut down.” I suggested trying to be funny.
“Sorry, I don’t mean to bother you.” She started to get up.
Wow, I’d failed at my goal today. Running off someone who needed help, what an epic fail! I got twitchy when humans stalled and keeping my magic inside made it feel like ants were crawling inside of my skin at times.
“No, I’m sorry. It was a bad joke about men. They always like talking to each other, but get women involved, and it’s nothing, no big deal. Please tell me
. If more people said something, we could help more of those in need. It’s just frustrating that people don’t come forward. They’re afraid of getting into trouble when they’re just witnesses who are brave,” I said.
“Exactly. I think he’s worried about getting his boss in trouble or himself for not saying something sooner. He only works there, and it’s just part-time. He’s only there when people need something, so he doesn’t get a feel for the day-to-day routine to know when something is really off.” She shrugged.
“Okay, that’s a good start. We’re not trying to get people in trouble who only want to help, I promise. It’s not a trapping game when we get tips. Just tell me what he told you.” Second hand information was rarely reliable, but at least I could make her feel heard. Then all the info would have to be checked out independently, but I didn’t know what I didn’t know, and I was getting tired of pulling teeth.
She took a deep breath and looked around. “He’s a handyman for a bunch of rental homes around Anchorage. Not all owned by the same people, but he’s good at fixing anything, and he likes it. There is a big cluster of cabins on the outskirts of the city. They are pretty run down, and my hubby, Joe, he’s always telling the owner to fix this or that. Nothing fancy. But unless the renters complain and threaten something, the owner won’t fix a thing. Normally. Joe gets a couple calls a month out there every year. It’s worse in the winter.”
“And Joe has seen or heard things that make him suspicious of something?” I prompted.
“This year, he’s been getting bigger project calls. Water heaters. Plumbing issues. He said it was like ten people were living in a cabin that might normally hold four. Small cabins,” she said.
“College kids? Cheapskates packing people in? Maybe they had a camper or were camping in tents when the weather was nice? If they’re violating the maximum occupancy allowed policy, he needs to tell his boss or whoever owns the cabins,” I replied.
“Definitely the campers are a factor. Joe saw at least one big RV. However, the weirdness was more about how the people acted. He only dealt with a male renter at each cabin, but all the clothes and products suggested the people staying there were largely women. The campers were weird too.”
