by Nicole Hall
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A Note from Nicole
I am constantly amazed that I have fans. Real fans that read, who like my words, not just people who know me in real life or may have birthed me. Every time I think about the fact that someone I’ve never met chose to read my book, I’m humbled. My stories live in my head, but I write them down for you guys. As always, my deepest thanks to my wonderful editorial team, Nicole Schneider, Liz Gallegos, and Jolene Perry. Next time with more goblins.
If you liked the sizzle between Samantha and Luc, I have good news! The next book follows their journey to fix everyone else’s problems. Come along for the thrilling last book in the Modern Magic series, Chaotic Magic.
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I appreciate you, and because I do, I’ve included an excerpt from the next book, Chaotic Magic right here for your reading pleasure. Turn the page to get started on Samantha and Luc’s adventure.
~Nicole
Chapter 1
SAMANTHA
If Samantha wasn’t careful, Luc would be the death of her. She blinked and tried to determine how long ago she’d stopped listening, in desperate need of some real sleep. The tiny woman in front of her hadn’t seemed to notice.
Samantha yawned and tried to concentrate on her interview with a potential tenant and not on the sexy dreams of Luc that had plagued her all night. Every time she closed her eyes, her tired brain brought up ‘helpful’ images of him naked against her. The man made sinful into an art form, and she hated him for it.
The hairs on her arms stood up, and goosebumps spread across her shoulders. Speak of the devil. She sighed and refused to look. The familiar sensation intensified until a shadow covered their table. The woman across from her, a perfectly nice pixie who’d just droned on for more than an hour about tax law, stuttered to a stop. At least he had one good use.
“Good afternoon, ladies. May I join you?”
Samantha braced herself and pasted on her iciest smile before looking up—way up—at him. “No. This is a business meeting.”
The pixie’s hand fluttered near her chest with her eyes glued to the man standing at her shoulder, and Samantha understood the reaction. Tall, broad shoulders, slim waist, charming smile, dressed in a stylish suit with an open collar. Luc fit in perfectly among the other wealthy, career people looking for an afternoon caffeine fix in downtown Manhattan. As the aforementioned dreams demonstrated, even she was susceptible to his charm.
Samantha scowled when Luc reached for the pixie’s hand and brought it to his lips. “I’m Luc Marsyas. A pleasure to meet you…”
She cleared her throat before filling in his blank with her name, one Samantha had honestly forgotten sometime in the last hour. “Tansy. Tansy Hollingsworth.” Right. Tansy.
Samantha nearly rolled her eyes. “Ms. Hollingsworth—”
“Tansy, please.” She smiled at Luc as she said it, and Samantha made an executive decision.
“Tansy, I’m afraid I won’t be able to offer you the room at this time. Good luck in your future housing decisions.” She stood and meant to shake the pixie’s hand, but Luc had already whisked Tansy out of her seat, bag and all.
“A shame we won’t have more time together, Tansy. Perhaps next time.” He smiled and encouraged her on her way with a hand at the small of her back.
Samantha heard the quiet sigh and saw the beginnings of infatuation as Tansy looked over her shoulder at him on her way out the door. “Nice to meet you, Luc.”
He waved as he took her seat, directing his smile and bedroom eyes at the departing woman but speaking to Samantha. “A pixie? I thought you had higher standards than that.”
And there it was. The reminder that no matter how delicious Luc’s outside looked, he was rotten on the inside. The door tinkled closed after Tansy, and Luc shifted all that intensity toward Samantha.
She held up a finger. “Don’t. I’m not interested in your opinion. There’s nothing wrong with pixies, and they usually have excellent credit.”
He folded his hands behind his head and leaned back in his chair. “Well then, by all means. I’m sure your dinner conversation will be riveting.”
Samantha rubbed her temples. “What do you want?”
“The same as you I suppose. Good coffee, rewarding work—” He leaned across the table and lowered his voice, “—amazing sex.”
His near-whisper scraped across her nerve endings, sending shocks of pleasure straight to her core. Damn him and all his evil parts. She would not let him know how he affected her with two simple words.
Samantha managed a bored yawn that was only half-faked. “Some of us already have those. Why are you sitting at my table?”
Luc smiled, slow and wicked, and she suspected she hadn’t fooled him in the least. “I like a challenge.”
Her hackles rose. “Then find a hobby. I suggest a petting zoo, then you won’t be the only ass there.”
He laughed and the intensity between them faded. “I’ll make a note of that.”
“Why is it that we’ve worked in the same building for years yet I’ve never run into you here until the last few months?”
“Because until the last few months, I was unaware of your predilection for afternoon lattes. Allow me to buy you a drink in exchange for some information.”
She lifted her empty to-go cup. “I have a drink.”
He tsked at her. “It’s not nice to lie to me when I’m being generous.”
“Generous? You just proposed an exchange. How is that generous?” And how had he known she was lying?
“Because my part of the exchange will involve retrieving a beverage and yours will only involve speaking.”
Samantha watched him with narrowed eyes. She knew how to make bargains, and he’d piqued her curiosity. “I promise nothing, but if you want to buy me a drink, go ahead.”
“I see you’ve dealt with the Fae before.” Luc bowed his head in agreement, then pushed away from the table to stand.
She cocked her head. “Aren’t you going to ask what I want?”
His eyes clashed with hers, and the wicked grin returned. “I know what you want.”
Samantha licked her dry lips as he took his place in line, waiting with casual elegance. If he asked nicely, she’d do her best to provide him honest information, but she carried a lot of secrets. They were a by-product of her natural abilities.
Thinking about the visions brought her headache back with a vengeance. She hadn’t even noticed it fade while she’d been fending off Luc. Samantha grimaced. Not only Luc. Her own mind caused her more trouble than he did, primarily because she couldn’t simply get up and walk away from it.
She tapped the toe of her stiletto against the table leg as she considered doing that now. He’d be busy for a few more minutes at least, and she could be long gone by then. As much as she loved good coffee, she’d already hit her limit for the day. After this point, she usually switched to orange pekoe tea, so whatever concoction he bought, she probably wouldn’t drink anyway.
The idea of leaving tempted her enough to reach down for her bag, but she couldn’t go through with it. Apparently, the appeal of Luc was stronger than her sense of self-preservation. She let out a breath, annoyed with herself. It was so much easier to think of him as an untrustworthy playboy, but her innate sense of fairness wouldn’t stop picking away at the image.
Not too long ago, Luc had assisted Dru without asking for anything in return. True, he’d made a nuisance of himself during breakfast, but tha
t hardly amounted to a fair exchange for the magic he’d expended. As a profession, he helped displaced people, as she did, and both of them tried to intervene with magic-users exiled to Terra. But she’d seen him go beyond that duty as well.
He’d called his own car to move exiles to their new homes and helped them load their belongings. Once, she’d watched a woman cry all over his white dress shirt, but his touch was kind, and he coaxed a smile from her. Even now, he’d accepted a deal where he wasn’t guaranteed to get what he wanted.
If he could afford to be charitable, so could she. Samantha put her purse back on the floor by her feet and settled in for an extension of her uncomfortable afternoon. Luc returned and handed her a to-go cup identical to her first, but with one major change. He hadn’t gotten her coffee.
Her brows drew together as she inhaled the spicy citrus scent from the cup. “How did you know?”
“I pay attention.”
Samantha took a long sip, then met his eyes. “I’ll provide what information I can, but can we please have a normal conversation?”
He adopted an innocent expression. “I have no idea what you mean.”
“I mean no sexual innuendo for the length of our time at this table.”
He searched her face, then nodded. “I’ll attempt to restrain myself.”
Samantha hadn’t expected him to actually agree to her request, and curiosity got the better of her. “Why?”
Luc took a sip of his own coffee. “I enjoy matching wits with you. You’re a fine opponent, and I take a distinct pleasure in ruffling your feathers because they’re usually so sleekly arranged. There’s a certain power in knowing I can affect you in a way others can’t, and a temptation that I can’t seem to resist. But there’s a time and place. I have other needs at the moment.”
His explanation caused a warm feeling to spread from her chest. Power and temptation, she’d expected. But he’d admitted to a weakness as well. For her. Part of her reveled in the knowledge, but Samantha had gotten good at squashing that part. Luc may not be as rotten as she liked to believe, but he’d proven himself dangerous on more than one occasion.
As an example, she wanted to call him on his last statement, but he’d said it with a straight face. Samantha couldn’t blame him if she was the one making things dirty. She hated it when she couldn’t control herself enough to follow her own request, and Luc’s mere presence apparently destroyed all her hard-fought control.
Better not to respond to his answer. Besides, she had her own question for him.
“I appreciate the tea, but I’d rather trade you information for information. Is that fair?”
He inclined his head. “I accept. What’s your request?”
“I need information about a specific dagger, and preferably a way to procure it.”
“I might know someone.”
He didn’t hesitate, so either he always knew someone or he wasn’t taking her request seriously. Potentially both. “One of your degenerate connections, no doubt.”
Luc pursed his lips and tilted his head back and forth. “Perhaps, but I met him through Dru, so blame her for his presence in my life.”
Samantha relaxed a little at the mention of the newly-crowned dryad queen, her former roommate and the reason she’d been going through interview hell the last few weeks. “Who’s the contact?”
He turned his hand over and held out a glossy white business card that hadn’t been there before. “His name is Hank. From what I understand, he has an affinity for blades, connections across several realms, and his services are affordable.”
She took the card and read it aloud. “Hank Goblin. Contractor.” Looking back up at Luc, she grimaced. “His last name is goblin? Not very creative.”
He shrugged one shoulder, watching the people milling around them. “Goblins don’t generally have last names, but this lot is attempting to integrate in the human world, in some poorly executed ways.”
The name, as obvious as it was, seemed familiar, but she’d never met a goblin. Samantha tapped the card against the table, sorting through clients and associates in her mind until she remembered Dru’s dramatic retelling of a battle in the community garden.
She speared Luc with an incredulous look. “Is this the goblin that attacked Dru and Oren?”
His attention returned to her with an amused tilt to his lips. “Yes, and he’s especially sorry now that Dru is a queen. For that reason, I believe he’d be amenable to any requests you have.”
Samantha slid the card into her purse and picked up her tea. “Thank you. Your turn. What information do you want?”
“Knowledge about Aecantha.”
Samantha’s brows shot up. “Why ask me? Oren or Seth would know far more about their own realm and you wouldn’t have to bribe them with tea.”
“Oren is in the dryad realm with his new queen, and Seth doesn’t have the inside information on their elders that I seek. I’ve asked.”
“What makes you think I have it?”
“I pay attention.”
Samantha tapped the side of her paper cup with her nail and considered her words carefully. “I can’t give you information that was told to me in confidence.”
He leaned forward and closed his hand over hers, forcing her still. “I understand. I’m only asking for what you’re comfortable sharing.”
She slid her hand out from under his and into her lap, ignoring the heat from his touch. “Okay. Ask your questions.”
“Do the Aecantha elders collect artifacts of great power?”
Common knowledge, an easy answer. “Yes.”
“What do they do with them?”
A trickier answer. “I’m told they use them to protect the village and the realm.”
“You’re told?”
“As I’m not an elder of a race of shapeshifters from another realm—ones that used to be revered as gods here—I can only relay what I’ve been told. I imagine Oren or Seth would tell you the same. You haven’t asked me anything they don’t know.”
He leaned forward on his elbows. “Where do they keep them?”
Disappointment filled her. “Why does it matter?”
Satisfaction entered his eyes. “Because I also collect sources of great power.”
Samantha shook her head. “I should have known this was about you. Always an angle for potential benefit. Do you ever think about anyone but yourself?” She stood and collected her purse, making it almost to the exit just behind their table before his words stopped her.
“I think about you.”
She paused with her hand on the door and examined his reflection in the glass. “I’m not an artifact for you to collect.”
Her heels clicked on the sidewalk as she left the bustle of the coffee shop for the flow of pedestrians on the street. She thought she’d finally won a round, but the familiar tingle along her back let her know he’d followed her.
Head high, she tried to ignore him and the nagging feeling that she hadn’t upheld her end of the bargain. He’d asked easy questions, and she’d answered, as stipulated. She couldn’t answer the last one, not because she didn’t know, but because she’d obtained the information accidentally. Her contact in Aecantha, Keris, acted as her front when disseminating knowledge, and even she wasn’t privy to some of the data in Samantha’s head.
She pushed his parting comment to the far corner of her mind. It wouldn’t pay to indulge in fantasies of a man she’d made up. Every time she softened toward him, her reminded her of his true nature.
Luc kept pace behind her until they’d turned off the busier thoroughfare and onto Third Avenue. The crowds thinned, and he pulled up alongside her, his hands in his pockets.
“My reasons are personal, but I’ll assure you that I have no intention of stealing their artifacts.”
Samantha snorted. “Excellent. I’m glad you’re not a common criminal.”
“You know where they are.”
She clenched her jaw and refused to respond, but he took her s
ilence as confirmation anyway.
“I understand you can’t reveal this information now, but if the way becomes clear for you in the future, I would very much like to know.”
“That won’t happen.”
He shrugged in her peripheral vision. “We’ll see.”
Samantha didn’t need to see. Yes, she knew where the elders kept the artifacts, but she would never be able to tell him without breaking her trust with the clans. They didn’t know the extent of her knowledge, and Samantha would like to keep it that way. Safer for everyone.
Try as she might, she couldn’t completely distract herself from his words at the coffee shop. I think about you. Talk about danger. Luc exuded danger. And sex. Couldn’t forget the sex.
Samantha wasn’t deluded enough to try to deny her attraction to him, but she liked to think her intellect had more influence over her than her body. She snuck a glance at him and admitted that sometimes her body had the right of it.
Luc caught her peeking and raised a brow. She turned away and quickened her steps, but not before heat crawled up her cheeks. Why couldn’t he be a nice, normal accountant with a coin collection? Samantha snorted to herself. The accountant would pale before the sexy, dangerous magic-user. Too bad she didn’t trust his motivations. With Luc, there was always an ulterior motive. She tried to limits her mistakes to one per bad boy.
He caught up to her and placed a hand at her lower back to steer her around a slow-moving group of tourists. She tried not to react. The move reflected his old school manners rather than a desperate need to touch her. Ulterior motives, remember? His hand fell away as they passed the gawkers and turned onto her street.
“Now that we’re no longer at that table—”
Samantha spun around and jabbed a finger into his chest, nearly jamming it on the solid muscle. “Don’t you have anything better to do than harass me? I’m operating on very little sleep, every tenant I interview is a weirdo, and—” She stopped herself just in time and whirled around again. Luc wasn’t interested in her sad, little past.
