Magic Unbound: A New Adult Urban Fantasy Novel (Touched By Magic: Dragon Book 1)

by Ashley Meira

  But Damien? He could fuck right off. Just because I knew he could be brusque didn’t mean I had to sit there and take it. He had no right to run his mouth like that. Would it have killed him to use some decorum?

  I lurched to a stop and let out a frustrated sigh. The urge to punch the wall ahead of me grew with each passing second, but I managed to restrain myself. All it’d do was draw attention, and the last thing I wanted right now was to tangle with the staff. Or Adam. He’d probably show up if he heard any commotion.

  The image of him ducking my gaze brought my rage back in full force. I shoved my hands into my pockets before they could leave a hole in the fancy cream wallpaper and continued stalking down the hall. How could he even entertain the idea of putting Diana in prison? Sure, she’d done some horrible stuff, but she had no choice. If the roles had been reversed, I probably would have ended up the same way.

  My footsteps slowed once more as the realization sunk in. That’s what really bothered me about his reaction: it could have been me and he’d have reacted the same way. He was furious when I’d been arrested, but he wouldn’t have batted an eyelash if I’d been Diana — or in her place. Of course, in that situation, I’d be a complete stranger to him — one that robbed his brother twice and tried to kill him… twice.

  “Crap,” I mumbled as Diana’s room came into view. I stopped in front of her door and avoided eye contact with the girl reflected in the golden handle. “For someone who claims not to want special treatment from him, I sure as hell seem to expect it.”

  He was right. Diana was a complete stranger to him — one that had done nothing to curry his favor. And I just expected him to be nice because she was related to me. Fuck. I smacked my forehead. Maybe I hadn’t understood as much as I’d thought.

  But that didn’t mean I was okay with my sister being arrested. She was as much a victim as Fiona and me. There had to be a way to make Adam understand that, to convince him to help plead our case.

  And I had to think fast, because time was running out. No matter how many Rangda’s Favors we could get our hands on, we’d run out eventually. Hopefully, we could stop Nicholas before it came to that.

  Then what? If she helped us, I could bring up her heroics as a reason to let her leave a free woman. But she was still Fireborn, and after Nicholas’ own Fireborn status came to light, it was unlikely the Council would entertain the idea my kind were anything but evil.

  I tried to replace my thoughts of impending doom with actual helpful ideas, but my well had run dry. It had been a long day, and I was completely spent.

  The door swung open with a soft swish. “You used to be much quieter.”

  I had to blink a few times to make sure I wasn’t staring at a mirror. Our “twin-ness” was unmistakeable, but Diana’s hair was styled differently enough to give people pause. She preferred a side part whereas I chose to leave my hair parted in the middle. And by chose, I meant I was too lazy to bother even flipping it to one side or the other. That’s probably why some extra makeup and a wig was enough to get her into the Black Citadel without raising alarm; the guards likely chalked it up to a strong family resemblance.

  But her hair wasn’t in its usual style this time. It was tied up in the same tight ponytail she’d had when meeting Symeon — the same ponytail I wore whenever I was on the job — and it felt just as unnerving seeing it now as it had been two months ago.

  “I’m very quiet,” I managed to utter as my eyes looked everywhere but her face. The golden phoenix wrapped around the hilt of her sword provided a good distraction. “You were on your way out. That’s why you opened the door.”

  She opened her mouth, then closed it. A pink hue slid across her cheeks, exactly like the flush that had appeared when I’d caught her off guard at the Black Citadel. I wasn’t sure exactly what she was feeling, but I chose to believe it was bashful.

  “That’s irrelevant,” she finally said, her lips a thin line. “Someone new is here.”

  I kept my face neutral. How could she tell? “Adam called in some backup. Damien, his brother.”

  “I know who he is,” she said as if I were slow. “I led a siege on his gallery and stole the Heart of Gaia from him. Based on the angry snapping of his magic, it seems he remembers me.”

  Duh. Of course that’s how she knew: she’d sensed his magic. A month without my powers and I’d apparently forgotten what they were. I didn’t forget how losing it felt, though. My magic had been there all my life. Losing it made me realize how much I’d taken it for granted. A curtain of melancholy draped itself across my shoulders, pulling me down. Apparently, melancholy was made of lead.

  The sadness must have shown on my face, because the irritation faded from hers. “What is it?”

  I tried to find a way to voice my pain and frustration. I felt useless, both in battle and in life. I couldn’t fight Seraphine and I couldn’t think of a way to keep my sister from spending her life in yet another prison. Despite the words being clear in my mind, all I could force out was, “I can’t remember what it feels like to sense magic.”

  The corners of her lips turned down, and it seemed to relax her face more. I guess she frowned more than she made any other facial expression. And I thought my resting bitch face was a pain in the ass. “I’m going to train.”

  “Oh.” I nodded meekly and stepped away from the door. “Do you need to tell Adam where you’re going?”

  Her frown deepened as she stepped into the hall and closed the door behind her. “No. He said I could roam the hotel at my leisure, but I was to tell him if I planned on stepping outside. I’m also not allowed outside communication.”

  Terseness punctuated each word in a way that would make the prissiest of schoolteachers green with envy. I didn’t blame her. She was being treated like a prisoner, though not without reason. For all my irritability, however, I wasn’t ready to be alone, so I tried to keep the conversation going. “How are you feeling? I know Adam healed you, but—”

  “I’m fine.” She looked away in what I swore was discomfort. “More than enough to provide you with a challenge.”

  I scoffed, feeling the itchy blanket of self-pity scratch at my skin. “I’m not much of a challenge to you anymore.”

  “We’ll see won’t we?” She jerked her chin down the hall, toward the elevators. “Let’s go.”

  “Huh?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Sparring. You and me. Or has ‘losing your magic’ robbed you of all your combat skills?”

  Damn. Burn. If I was a man I’d have asked her to kick me in the jewels because it’d hurt less. Still, I might not have been able to read her like a book, but I could tell when she was purposefully cruel — and there was no malice in her tone. In fact, she almost seemed to be… joking. It would certainly be like me to make an off color joke to lighten the situation. Maybe it was genetic? Still, I wasn’t completely tone deaf — and that joke certainly was.

  But I had claimed to want her company, and she was offering it. “We’ll see, won’t we?”

  She nodded. “Let’s go.”

  We bypassed the empty gym in favor of an equally empty meditation room. The space was large enough for us to move around in. However, the walls were made of shoji paper, and I was worried one of us would end up throwing the other straight through it.

  Diana seemed largely unconcerned as she removed her rings and began stretching. I eyed her for a moment, trying to find any similarities — or oddities — in her movements before remembering I hadn’t had an actual fight since Gadot and I should be stretching, too. Getting my ass handed to me by Diana was one thing, but tapping out a few seconds in because of a cramp was something I’d never live down.

  The familiar stretch of my muscles almost pulled a satisfied moan from my throat. I’d done plenty of stretches in prison — what yoga routines I could remember had made up the majority of my exercise while I was locked up — but the concrete walls and cold air hadn’t done much to make me feel at ease. It was hard to feel comfortable when
you were trapped in a dark box, unsure if anyone was coming for you.

  I bit back a grunt at the shot of pain in my shoulder. Thinking about the Black Citadel had distracted me, and I’d stretched too hard. The pain would pass in a moment, but the reminder that I couldn’t force the memories of that month away lingered.

  I was good at running. I’d had to be to survive this long. So, to not be able to shove past this and keep going, keep surviving, was pissing me off. I wasn’t this weak. Again, I couldn’t be.

  It didn’t feel like it was all because of my magic, either. Yes, it made me feel helpless, but I’d gone without it before. Hell, I’d barely used it. That regret I understood, at least — publicly using my powers would have landed me in trouble, but now that it was gone I felt bad not using it more. But this felt bigger than that. How much could I have changed in a month?

  I reached for my toes, enjoying the blood rushing to my head. I’d never been a big fan of the feeling — it chased away the majority of my thoughts — but it had its uses, especially in times like these.

  By the time I was done, I felt more mellow — and possibly too elastic, though I had a feeling Diana would prove me wrong on that count. She said we were sparring, but the look in her eyes made me wonder how vicious her sparring sessions got.

  My heart tightened once more at the thought of what Nicholas had put her through, but I forced myself to focus on the task at hand. I might have felt sorry for her, but I wasn’t going to let her kick my ass.

  We took our positions opposite each other and brought our fists up. Flashes of my dream — the first that had ever contained a true memory — played in my mind. I’d been sparring with my mirror image while Nicholas judged us from a place unseen. Back then, I thought it was an allegory, some weird dream message where everything symbolized something else. I suppose it had, and maybe if I’d been smart enough to realize it, I could have done something to help Diana — and stop Nicholas — much sooner.

  Wallowing in regret almost got me punched in the face. I stepped back, aware enough to avoid stumbling, and ducked down. I swept my leg out, but Diana hopped over my attack and countered with a downward punch. Rolling away, I kicked up, using the momentum to stand and throw a punch to follow up.

  She blocked the kick and ducked under the punch, throwing out her leg in retaliation. My arms came up in front of me, absorbing the brunt of her attack. She hit hard, but no harder than I did during sparring. Then again, Fiona always did say I had a habit of mistaking a spar for a war — usually while rubbing her injuries and glaring at me. Maybe it was the way Nicholas had trained us? Then why wasn’t Fiona the same? He’d kept her hadn’t he? Given her the same brand he gave to those he had use for?

  Apart from the few dreams I’d had, I couldn’t remember Nicholas’ training — not his exact words, anyway — but I had a feeling he’d warned me “introspection will get you killed” at some point. It sounded like something he would say, and it was definitely a lesson I needed to remember now.

  A hard kick against my ribs jogged my memories, and I was able to block Diana’s next kick before reaching to grapple her. My arms shook under the strain of throwing her over my shoulder, but I managed to drop her to the floor.

  I stepped back as she collected herself and stretched my arms. Nothing hurt, but I could feel the pulsing of unused muscles underneath my skin. There hadn’t been a chance for me to get any weight training done in prison, and the diet hadn’t helped with my muscle tone. I’d need to fix that as soon as possible.

  But first, I needed to dodge the flurry of attacks coming my way. Now that I appeared to be back in the game, Diana spared no punches. As soon as I dodged a kick, another would be thrown my way, followed by another, then two punches. An elbow dug into my bicep as I landed a kick just below her knee. In an actual fight, I’d have jammed my heel right into the joint, but we were sparring, and she had to help fight Seraphine tomorrow.

  I dropped to avoid another punch. Aiming for center mass, I kicked upwards. She dodged. I spun around and threw another kick. She caught me by the ankle and pulled. My cheek crashed against the tatami mat beneath us. Then one more as she grabbed my leg, lifted me up, and slammed me back down. I curled into myself, reaching for her ankle. She stomped near my hand and released me, putting some distance between us. We stared each other down a moment before bringing our fists back up.

  Adrenaline made my fingers tremble. Keeping them clenched felt like holding bees in my hand. Across from me, Diana’s face was flushed and sweat kept her hair plastered to her face. Still, she looked more alive than I’d ever seen, and I was willing to bet I looked just as excited — possibly more, if the feeling of my lips tugging upwards was any indication.

  It had been so damn long. That fight with Thomas had been less than ten days ago, but it wasn’t the same. He was a tool, and if I’d had my sword, he wouldn’t have his head anymore. Even my fights before that had carried serious consequences. It had been months since I’d had a chance to get into a fight without risk of the world being destroyed. The closest had been training with Adam in France, but that had mostly consisted of magic and trying not to get high.

  In this fight, I was high — and not in that “could possible go insane and take over the world way,” but in the normal battle frenzy that I could lose myself in almost daily as a mercenary. Sure, being a lower ranked Guild member didn’t pay well, but the jobs weren’t complicated — usually just break up a fight or catch some troublemaker. The world would fade, and I could let myself go in the thrill of the hunt. Everything became simple for a moment in time. Fight. That’s all I had to do. No fate of the world in my hands, no risk of a city being destroyed, no one about to die….

  There was a purity in the chaos.

  We spared each other one last look and charged forward.

  I wasn’t sure how long we spent fighting. The air around us seemed to sing with every hit we threw. I’d attack, she’d counter. I’d dodge, she’d try to throw me. Our movements felt like a dance, overly practiced and oh-so missed. It made me feel truly alive for the first time since we’d learned about Gadot’s plans.

  Even being released from prison and seeing my friends again had carried a dark cloud thanks to Nicholas. But this? It was like we were in another world. Diana met me move for move, her eyes holding an understanding I never knew I needed. We didn’t need to speak or take breaks. My sister and I were enjoying a moment together, one that was unique to us.

  I never wanted it to end.

  But it did. Eventually — when my entire body was trembling and I’d sweated out all the moisture I had. The water bottle Diana threw almost broke my nose, but I managed to catch it at the last second, my shaking fingers fumbling with the cap. I downed the liquid with a thirst that would have concerned any passersby. But only Diana was here, and she drank with the same gusto.

  She’d won with a throw I’d have called unsportsmanlike if it hadn’t left me seeing stars. I didn’t consider it a true loss, though, and for once it had nothing to do with ego. I’d needed this — to let loose all my aggression and let my mind go blank for a while. Even sleep brought nightmares, but fighting? That I could do with my eyes closed.

  “That was easier than usual,” I said, my voice still breathy from our exertions. “You know, without you throwing magic around and me dodging so I wouldn’t be seen absorbing anything.”

  Diana gave me a pointed, but not unimpressed, look. “You lost.”

  “Still easier.” I shrugged. “Besides, I’m out of practice — and prison food doesn’t exactly make for a healthy body. Plus, you’re basically the Terminator.”

  Another pointed look, lighter this time. “It was my training.”

  “Wasn’t I trained the same way?”

  The light vanished. “Not for the past eight, almost nine, years.”

  “Dunno.” I tried to maintain my casual tone. “Been doing all right for myself, I think.”

  “Apart from the previous month, I suppose,” she s
aid, malice absent from her tone. “I’m going to shower. I suggest you do the same. I’m told sweat and cold weather are bad for a body.”

  I’d been told that, too. Usually from a sniffly Fiona after a day of chasing unicorns in the rain. I guess now I had a chance to experience the misery for myself. Joy.

  Still, I’d almost rather catch the flu than go back to my room. Mine and Adam’s room, where Damien could still be. It’s not like I could sense his magic to check.

  Fiona had her own room, but asking to use her shower felt like I was tucking my tail between my legs. Which I was, but that was easier to admit to myself than anyone else.

  I must have stayed silent for too long, because I saw Diana’s figure hesitate by the doorway. If there was any pity in her gaze, she hid it well. “You can use mine if your boyfriend is using yours. After I finish, of course.”

  She knew that wasn’t why I hesitated, but she chose to give me an out. If we hadn’t been “reunited” less than a day ago, I’d have made a joke about twin senses. Instead, I nodded and gave her my first genuine smile in what felt like forever. “Thank you.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  The shower took as long as my first, but this time I was able to enjoy myself. Apparently, high pressure jets were a lot more pleasant when you weren’t trying to scald away your negative feelings. Go figure.

  I felt my battle high fade away with each passing second, the loud pounding of my heart fading to a soft thumping. Instead of trying to cling to the sensation, I let it wash away with a soft — albeit slightly forced — smile. As far as I was concerned, the day was done, and despite everything that had happened, it ended on somewhat of a high note. That was all I could ask for at the moment.

  A warm haze clouded my mind as I stepped back into Diana’s bedroom, sweaty clothes in hand. It occurred to me that this would be a good time for an ambush — I was tired, off guard, and wearing only a towel — but it was fleeting. If she wanted to take me out, she’d have done it while I was in the shower.