Heart of Malice (Alice Worth Book 1)

by Lisa Edmonds

  Malcolm looked stricken.

  “Best case,” I continued, “her powers manifest slowly enough that someone can train her.” Who the hell that person might be, I had no idea. I didn’t even know anyone who could—or would—take on an adult whose magical abilities had been suppressed her entire life. I’d have to find someone powerful and trustworthy enough to control Natalie’s magic until she could. I sighed. I’d have more luck finding a unicorn, and no one had seen one of those on this side of the fae realm in more than a hundred years.

  “Well, we know she has both fire and air magic, but how much she has, I don’t know. It was a small flare, but for all we know, she’s as strong as her grandmother.”

  I realized Malcolm was very studiously avoiding looking at me in my underwear. I glanced down at myself. “I need clothes. I’m going to find something to wear and get my go-bag out of my car so I can clean up.”

  “While you’re doing that, I’ll start working on the library wards. You don’t look like you have much magical energy left.”

  “I don’t. The binding spell took about everything I had.” As Malcolm moved over to the library door, I went in search of clothes. A few minutes later, wearing one of Natalie’s T-shirts and a pair of her yoga pants, I hurried barefoot out to my car, got the black duffel bag out of the backseat, and returned to the house.

  I used the toiletries in my go-bag to shower, and then put on jeans and a comfy T-shirt that advertised a great local supe band with a half-demon lead singer named Cam who’d shared my bed for a sizzling-hot six weeks. After I was clean and dressed and had brushed my teeth, I felt almost human again.

  When I returned to the bedroom, Malcolm was putting wards on the library. He was focused on his work, so I sat cross-legged on the bed and gently rubbed my sore abdomen as I watched him. His fingers were quick and deft, forming runes and symbols, stringing them together, and then layering the strands. He was using earth magic only, and I couldn’t see or sense anything that might lead anyone to believe they were placed by anyone other than a strong earth mage. It was exquisite workmanship.

  By the time he finished with the wards, it was almost three a.m. I had gone from sitting up to lying down on the bed. When Malcolm finally turned around, his energy looked somewhat depleted, but he looked like he had enough left for me to pull from. I might not be powerless for much longer if he could be talked into sharing with me.

  I’m not usually one for compliments, but I had to give him credit. “The wards are incredible. Some of the best I’ve ever seen.”

  Malcolm smiled. “Perimeter wards are one of my specialties.”

  I sat up slowly to avoid strain on my sore stomach. “Looks like mostly aversion spells, but the defenses are going to hit mages pretty strong.”

  He glanced back at the wards. “Yeah, I figured we want to keep anyone out who has magical ability, until we know what’s in there.” He paused. “Do you want me to set it so that Natalie can pass?”

  I thought about it, then shook my head. “We better not, until we know how much magic she has. We don’t know what Betty left in the library.”

  Now I had a decision to make, and I found I wanted Malcolm’s opinion on it. “Should we put the stronger spells in?”

  He looked at me. “Like the ones that almost killed you?”

  “Yeah.” We were silent for a moment. “There’s something in there that Betty was willing to kill to protect. Until we know what it is—or was—I’m wondering if we need to up the threat level on the wards.”

  Malcolm went quiet and frowned while he gave that some serious thought. “If I funnel enough energy into these wards, and we maintain them, they’ll incapacitate up to a half dozen mages trying to get in at once. If you want black wards and landmines, that’s not something I can do—not something I will do. I did enough for Darius. I’m done with death.”

  I rubbed my face. I could do them, if I had enough energy. I didn’t even need my blood magic; my air magic was strong enough that I could replicate both the black wards that had burned me and the landmine I’d tripped during the unraveling. I was running on fumes, however. Time to test our partnership. “If you let me siphon energy from you, I can set the wards.”

  Malcolm and I stared at each other. I had no idea what he was thinking about me or my request. It had been a rough day for both of us. He’d been threatened with exorcism and stuck in an earring. I took two big hits from deadly wards and now I was as low on magic as I could ever remember being.

  I let him think.

  Finally, Malcolm made a decision. “If you take enough energy from me to do what you need to do, I’ll be very weak for a while. You’ll have to hide me and protect me until I get my strength back.” He looked at my earring with a grimace.

  I took a deep breath and slid off the bed. “I will try to figure out a better way to hide you. I can’t promise it will be much of an improvement, but maybe there’s another option. For now, we’ve got to get these wards up, and then I’m going to go out.”

  “Go out?” He glanced at the clock. “By the time you do all that, it will be four o’clock in the morning.”

  “I know. It’s cutting it close, but as long as I get there by five, he’ll still be there.”

  “Who will be where?”

  “I’ve gotta go see a vampire.”

  “A vampire? What vampire?”

  “His name is Charles Vaughan. He’s a member of the Vampire Court.”

  Malcolm flitted back in surprise. “You know a member of the Vampire Court?”

  “I’ve worked for them for a couple of years. Charles is a friend. More importantly, he’s a broker.”

  “A broker? Of what?”

  “Treasures and secrets, mostly.” I smiled. “Charles likes to say that he buys and sells only things that are priceless. Also, he knows people who know people. If we’re going to find a master mage to teach Natalie how to control her magic, I’ll need his help.”

  “Okay,” Malcolm said finally. “I guess we better do this, huh?”

  I took Malcolm’s arm, closed my eyes, and reached out with my senses until I felt the hum of his magic. I began to draw it into myself, slowly at first, then faster as our connection opened wider.

  Malcolm’s magic tasted sweet and pure, like rain. I felt parched, like I’d been stranded in the desert for days without water, and had to fight not to siphon every drop. When I felt him getting weak, I closed the connection between us and released his arm.

  Energy rose and crashed within me like an ocean wave breaking on a beach. I kept my eyes closed and allowed it to settle into me, soaking into my bones. Even when it was at rest in my skin, I felt buoyant, lighter on my feet.

  I opened my eyes. Malcolm hovered in front of me, almost invisible. He opened his mouth, tried to speak, then shook his head. I hadn’t left him with enough energy to communicate.

  I reached out my hand and he took it.

  I’m sorry. I took too much, I thought at him.

  His eyes widened in surprise at hearing my voice in his head. He focused on me and thought back, It’s okay. I should probably…rest.

  With my other hand, I reached up and touched my earring. “Contain.” The spell flared, and Malcolm vanished. The earring buzzed; the ghost was in residence.

  The room felt emptier without Malcolm’s presence. I shook my head. Don’t be ridiculous, I thought. Stay focused.

  Upgrading the library wards didn’t take long; I knew the spellwork well enough to do it in my sleep. I upped the aversion spells for nonmagical intruders and then set black wards for magical trespassers.

  I frowned at the door to the library. I really wanted to know what was in there, but I wasn’t about to go into Betty’s library low on magic. The woman had put black wards around it and woven a death curse into them. Who knew what was waiting in there?

  For now, I needed to put Natalie in bed and get to Hawthorne’s before Charles went to sleep for the day. My client was such a tiny thing, but I was still weak a
nd sore. As a result, it was embarrassingly difficult and painful to hoist her up onto the bed and get her under the covers. I took her shoes off and tucked her in.

  I replaced Malcolm’s sleep spell with a compulsion that would wear off in about six hours. Natalie murmured and snuggled deeper under the covers. Because of the spells, she’d wake a little confused, and probably with no memory of her magic breaking free. That was good, because I really didn’t need her to panic when she woke up.

  I found a pad and pen on the nightstand and jotted a quick note: You fell asleep while we were working, so I put you in bed. We’re still working on making the library safe, so don’t try to go in there yet. I’ll give you a call in the afternoon. Alice.

  I propped the note up on the nightstand where she’d see it, made sure I had all my belongings, and locked the door on my way out. After I checked to make sure the house wards were up, I headed to my car and took off for Hawthorne’s.

  Chapter 6

  Hawthorne’s was one of the few bars I really enjoyed frequenting. Named for a famous literary friend of its owner, it sat in the trendy neighborhood known as The Heights, in the middle of a block of very expensive retail lofts all owned by Charles Vaughan. Its patrons tended to be late twenties and older, professional types more likely to be discussing stock portfolios over expensive bourbon than sports over beers.

  Since Hawthorne’s was open until dawn, it was popular with both human night owls and nocturnal supes. Despite the diverse clientele, things generally stayed peaceful. There were two main reasons for that: Adri and Bryan, two of Charles’s enforcers who often worked as security to keep an eye on the crowd downstairs while their employer conducted business in his offices above.

  When I walked up, Adri stood at the door checking IDs. As always, the tall woman wore all black—black turtleneck, black pants, black boots—with her shoulder-length, brown hair in a ponytail. With her height, her striking features, and a body toned by mixed martial arts and free climbing, it was impossible not to feel intimidated next to her, even if you didn’t know she could pick a grown man up and toss him across the room.

  “Alice.” She greeted me with a half hug.

  I squeezed her back with real affection. “How are you, Adri?”

  “It’s a slow night. It’s good to see you, chica. You here for fun or business?”

  I sighed. “Business, unfortunately. Is Charles in?”

  “He is. Go talk to Bryan.”

  “You’re a doll,” I told her.

  She snorted and waved me in.

  The inside of Hawthorne’s, like its owner, radiated subtle elegance: all dark wood, low lights, and brass fixtures. Patrons took up only about half of the tables and booths, talking in low murmurs over the sound of clinking glasses and Eddie Money on the jukebox.

  Pete, the manager and my favorite bartender, was pouring out shots in a long row on the bar. He grinned as I came up. “How you doing, Alice?”

  “Doing okay, Pete. How have you been?”

  “Not too bad.” He finished pouring the last shot with a flourish and slid the bottle back onto the shelf behind him. “What can I get you?” A waitress put the shots on her tray and headed off to distribute them.

  I started to ask for a beer, then shrugged mentally. All things considered, I thought I deserved a real drink. “Scotch. The good stuff.”

  Pete reached up to the top shelf as I slid onto a barstool. He poured me two fingers of whisky and pushed the glass over.

  I took an appreciative sip. “Is Bryan around?”

  A hand the size of a catcher’s mitt landed on my shoulder. I somehow managed not to drop my drink and screech as Bryan’s laugh rolled through the bar. “Damn it, Bryan, don’t do that!” I scolded him, giving his massive bicep a punch that hurt my hand but only made him laugh harder. I scowled and nursed my drink.

  “Mr. Vaughan is meeting with a client,” Bryan said when he finished laughing at my expense. His voice sounded like boulders rolling down a mountainside. “If you can wait, I’ll let him know you’re here and take you up when he’s available.”

  “Not a problem.” I jerked my chin toward the back of the bar. “I’ll be over there whenever he’s ready.”

  My favorite booth was in the corner, where I could sit with my back to the wall and watch the bar. There wasn’t much light in the back, and the lamp that hung over the table hadn’t worked in ages, which was why it tended to be a popular booth for couples, or solitary souls trying not to be noticed. I sipped my Scotch and retreated into the shadows, staring off into the distance while my mind wandered.

  My solitude lasted for all of about five minutes before a deep voice interrupted my thoughts. “Can I join you?”

  I looked up.

  The tall, dark-haired newcomer wore jeans and a button-up shirt and held a bottle of craft beer. Ruggedly handsome and muscular with about two days’ worth of stubble, he had the casual confidence of a man used to hearing yes to that question. As delectable as he looked, what I liked most was the way the corners of his eyes crinkled when he smiled, as if he smiled a lot.

  Despite the flutter in my stomach, I took a drink of my whisky and gave him a level stare just this side of unfriendly.

  Apparently undaunted, he propped an elbow on the back of the seat across from me and raised his eyebrows.

  I should say no. Then again, it had been a long day, and he wasn’t the worst-looking man in the bar. “Why not.”

  He grinned and dropped into the seat opposite mine. “I’m Sean.”

  I hesitated. “Alice.”

  “Hi, Alice.” Sean set his beer down on the table and stuck out his hand.

  I stared at him and thought about how the last time a man tried to pick me up in a bar, he ended up dead with a knife in his eye.

  Sean waited.

  I reached out and shook his hand briefly. His skin was very warm.

  “What are you drinking?” he asked.

  I saluted him with my glass. “Dalwhinnie.”

  He looked surprised, but pleasantly so. “Rough day?”

  “You could say that.”

  “I know what you mean.” Sean leaned back in the booth, stretching out. His right leg brushed against mine. “Sorry,” he said. He didn’t look all that sorry. I was pretty sure he’d done it on purpose. Maybe it was the Scotch talking, but I didn’t really mind. “I had to work overtime, didn’t get off till three. Then I didn’t feel like staying home, so I decided to go out for a drink.”

  “Where do you work?”

  “I own a private security firm.” I liked that he didn’t say it as if I was supposed to be impressed. “One of my employees called in sick for the second time this week and I had to cover his shift. I think he’s got a new girlfriend.” He laughed and I smiled. “So, tell me about yourself, Alice. What do you do?”

  I took a drink to give myself a moment to think. Normally I claimed to be an administrative assistant if anyone asked, since most people started peppering me with annoying questions if I told them I was a mage private investigator. If he was private security, though, he probably wouldn’t be all that awed with my job, or ask me how many vamps I’d staked—three—or if I’d ever seen a full demon—yes, right before I sent him back where he came from. “I’m an MPI.”

  “Wow, I never would have guessed.”

  I gave him a flat look. “Why? Because I’m female?”

  “Not at all.” Sean smiled good-naturedly. “I actually know several female mage PIs. We have a couple on retainer as consultants, but all the ones I know are ex-law enforcement, and you don’t strike me as a LEO.”

  I took that as a compliment.

  He finished off his beer. “So what’s keeping you up tonight? Working late on a case?”

  “I was,” I said. “Client meeting ran late. I decided to stop by to see…a friend.”

  “Oh?” Sean looked around the bar. “Is she…or he…joining you here?” He was plainly wondering if I was meeting a date.

  “Sort of.�
� I glanced around for Bryan but didn’t see him. I supposed that meant Charles was still in his meeting and wasn’t ready for me. “I guess he’ll be around at some point.” I shrugged. Part of me was impatient, wanting to talk to Charles about finding a master mage to help with Natalie, but I found myself enjoying Sean’s company.

  I raised my glass and drained the rest of my Scotch. I caught Pete’s eye and pointed at Sean’s beer, holding up two fingers. He gave me a thumbs up, grabbed two bottles from the cooler, uncapped them, and headed our way.

  As Pete put the beers down in front of us, Sean spoke up. “Thanks. You can put her drinks on my tab.”

  “Oh no,” I said. “That’s not necessary.”

  “Please, let me—”

  Pete looked back and forth between us, his eyebrows raised.

  “No, thank you,” I said. “I’ve got it.” I didn’t want any misunderstandings between us. Men who buy drinks for women in bars near closing time get certain expectations. Sometime soon I’d be leaving him sitting at the table whenever Bryan came back to get me, and that would be that.

  “Okay, okay.” Sean held up his hands in surrender. “Just thought I’d offer.”

  “I appreciate it.”

  Pete took Sean’s empty bottle and my glass away and returned to the bar. I asked Sean what brands of craft beer he liked, and we talked microbrews for a while. As I was telling him about a popular local beer I enjoyed, I noticed him studying me intently, his brow furrowed.

  I broke off in midthought. “What?” I asked.

  “Alice, are you hurt?”

  I frowned. “Why do you ask?”

  “You’ve been flinching, and you’re holding your stomach like you’re in pain.”

  I realized my arm was wrapped around my sore abdomen and I hadn’t even noticed I was doing it. I moved my left hand on top of the table and straightened. “I’m fine.”

  “What happened?”

  I lifted one shoulder in a careful half shrug. “I ran into some black wards at my client’s home earlier in the evening and tripped a landmine hidden in the spellwork.”

  I watched several emotions—surprise, anger, then alarm—cross Sean’s face as he processed what I told him. “Black wards and a landmine? Aren’t those both deadly?”