Black Magic Shadows (Discord Jones Book 5)

by Drummond, Gayla

  Yep. I wrote that down. "Demons?"

  Screwing up their plans had put me on their naughty list, even if they didn't yet know about Strike Two: stealing the mirror back.

  "Who else?" I thought it over and sighed. "Nick?"

  My delusions had begun not long after I'd broken things off with him. Of course, they had started after the fight with Merriven, too.

  Nick had said he loved me, and was serious enough to buy a ring. Love could cause people to do crazy things.

  So could rejection.

  Diablo wandered in, and came to stand beside my chair.

  "Am I looking at this the right way?"

  "Looking at what?" Diablo reared to plant his paws on the desk's edge, and sniffed at the paper. "Is there more than one way to look at paper?"

  I scratched the back of his neck. "Not the paper, the situation."

  "Case?"

  "Curse."

  The black pit perked his ears. "You're not a dog again."

  "No this curse makes me see things that aren't there."

  "Oh. So that's what your problem is." Diablo flicked an ear and leaned into my scratching. "You been acting like a Mexican jumping bean."

  "Sorry." I turned and began using both hands to scratch him. His black hair was short, but thick and shiny.

  "You haven't been jumping lately."

  "Someone removed the curse from me, but I have to find out who cursed me."

  Diablo dropped to the floor. "My money's on Smelly."

  "Smelly?"

  "That wolf you were cozy with. Wolves are bad news."

  "Why would he curse me?"

  "Because you kicked 'im to the curb instead of being his mate." Diablo's face wrinkled. "Want us to get him?"

  "No, but thanks for the offer." I patted his head and swiveled my chair back to the desk. After giving the dog's opinion some serious consideration, I picked up the pen, and added Nick's name to the list. Not that I really thought he'd go that far, but it also wasn't as though I'd known him for years.

  Diablo grunted before wandering out of my office.

  Shifters were basically magic people, based on what I'd learned about their origins. But could they create actual spells?

  Of course, David's shop stayed in business on the principle that anyone could create magic by using the right spells and ingredients. If only certain people could, the Blue Orb wouldn't be nearly as successful as it was.

  Staring at Nick's name, I mentally face-palmed. I had an expert I could ask, right next door: Moira.

  As the clan's shamaness, she'd know what shifters could do when it came to using magic. I could also talk to her about seeing the ancestors, and my worries over the missing White Queen.

  A call to Logan assured me that the dogs were always welcome in clan territory, and netted an offer to guide me to Moira's house.

  He met us just past the parking lot, greeting me with a hug. I returned it with interest, wondering how much longer I'd be able to hold out before diving into bed with him.

  "I let her know you were on the way over, and I'll keep an eye on Speck and Squishy," he said as we disengaged. Re-engagement followed instantly, his hand sliding around mine. "If you need me to."

  "Thanks." We walked down the path, our pace slow due to the dogs' need to sniff everything. I didn't mind, because it meant longer hand-holding time. The air was cool and pine-scented, but I felt warmer than I had on my walk over. "Is the whole territory like this?"

  "No, there's rainforest, grasslands, even a mangrove swamp, and highlands. We needed a mix of habitats, since we have a mix of tiger breeds. Most clans do."

  "Cool." I was not going to waste brain power on how they'd done that. Maybe someday a headache wouldn't be the result of trying to comprehend magic, but today wasn't that day. "If there's a beach around, I'll take my next vacation here."

  Logan stepped over Squishy, who'd found something interesting to sniff on the path. "We don't have ocean access, but there's lakes and rivers. One goes through the jungle area, and it has a few nice beach spots."

  "What about snakes and piranhas? Or alligators?"

  "None of those. We're the apex predators here, though we have some small predators to keep things in balance." He squeezed my fingers. "There's a troupe of chimpanzees in the rainforest, and Michelle—she's one of our Bengals—saw a few groups of smaller monkeys. We have some foxes and buzzards too."

  "That's too cool."

  "Even cooler: They're sort of programmed to let us know when something's wrong." He half-smiled. "They're real wild animals, but not. It's kind of hard to explain, but the reasoning is that we'll be able to help them if there's injuries or illnesses, because they'll come to us."

  "Kind of a fail-safe, huh? To keep all this on an even keel?"

  He nodded. "Exactly. They won't avoid us completely, so we'll see them, but it's better to keep our distance unless necessary."

  "What about deer or rabbits? Will they come to tell you if something's wrong?"

  "No, since they're our main prey animals. It's up to us to be good shepherds, weed out the sick or injured, and not over hunt the healthy."

  I wrinkled my nose, but didn't protest. Animals hunted other animals. That's how the circle of life worked in the wild. "I think I'll skip the hunts."

  Logan chuckled in response. We'd reached the main street and its houses, but he led me down it, past the big community building. Also past the playground and the gathering area where we’d celebrated Solstice. "Moira wanted space. It's easier for people to seek her out when they need her help, if she's not smack in the middle of everything."

  Her house was a really cute log cabin, set in the trees not far from the edge of the gathering ground. The cabin wasn't particularly large, but it had a covered front porch big enough to hang out on. We didn't go to the front door, but around back. I stopped, impressed by the space behind the cabin. There was a clearing, but the trees edging it weren't pines, and their branches met overhead to form a canopy. "Neat. It's like a natural gazebo."

  Moira waved at us. She was sitting in one of the Adirondack style wooden chairs arranged around an in-ground fire pit at the center of the area. Her welcoming smile reinforced the friendliness I'd noticed in her from the start. "Come have a seat."

  The three big dogs agreed to a run with Logan, while my two Chihuahuas thought warm laps were a better idea.

  In short order, I was sitting by the fire pit close to Moira, each of us with a lump of snoozing fur in our laps.

  That was when I felt a little unnerved, because I knew she and Logan were exes. It made it difficult for me to think of how to start the conversation.

  Moira waited for a couple minutes before taking pity on me. "Logan said you needed help with something?"

  "Yes. Did he tell you I was cursed? I mean, again?"

  "He did, and that a gargoyle gave you a Tear to block it."

  "Yeah." I petted Squishy. Speck was in Moira's lap. "Lord Kadon removed the curse, but I'm trying to figure out who cursed me."

  "Okay." She gave a slight nod.

  "My suspect list is limited, and there's a name on it I kind of hate having there. Nick's."

  "Ah." Moira pursed her lips. "We, meaning shifters in general, aren't magically powerful. Our magic is shifting shape." Her lips curved. "Plus the physical benefits. Speed, strength, and quick healing."

  "So Nick can't be the one who did it."

  Moira slowly shook her head. "He can't create and throw a curse, no, but he could hire the job out. The question is: Do you really think he'd want to harm you?"

  I answered without thinking. "No. Okay, scratching him off the list. That leaves..."

  Her eyebrows rose when I trailed off. "Yes?"

  Something was dancing right at the edge of my mind. "I've been cursed three times."

  "Some girls have all the luck," Moira murmured.

  "Yeah, right. Okay, the first time it was passed by touch." The dark elf, Dalsarin, had gone on a cursing spree and sent a gunman
to my little brother's school. But it wasn't the gunman who'd passed the curse. It was the police chief. We'd never figured out how Dalsarin had come into contact with him. I felt my forehead wrinkling.

  "The second time it was a potion." Also a present from Dalsarin, personally presented.

  Moira nodded, watching me intently. I stared back, trying not to wrestle with the teasing memory. "I don't know how I was cursed this time."

  "Well, not that I would deal in curses if I could, but I do know something about them." She stroked Speck's round head with her forefinger. "A potion or an object is the usual method. If it's neither of those, then it's a long-distance spell. Those require a focus object."

  My surroundings disappeared and I blinked.

  "Cordi?"

  "Vision." Everything was dark. Where the hell was I? I lifted my hand and felt Moira take hold of it.

  "Oh my. It's dark," she whispered. "I can barely see."

  Pulling tiger shifters into my visions was becoming a thing. "Is it the clan bond?"

  Moira understood my question. "Could be."

  "Can you make out anything?"

  "Barely. We're in a cavern, I think. There's a wall close. Is it possible to turn around? I feel a lot of open space behind us."

  "Yeah, I think so." It was weird, sitting still and trying to turn around, but we sort of shuffled.

  The shamaness hissed. "I see you."

  "Who?"

  "You," she said, right before light blazed.

  I blinked and shuddered as Merriven's voice broke the silence. "Once you've learned your place, you'll begin your new existence in truth, as my little princess."

  Now I understood what Moira had meant. The vampire stood over my past self. It was a retrocog vision.

  I glanced at the tiger, whose eyes were dark orange and unblinking as she stared at the tableau.

  "So much wrong with that sentence." Wow, I sounded like crap. Looked like it too.

  We both twitched when he threatened to feed my dad to me.

  "He was a real winner," Moira said.

  "Yeah."

  She growled when the vamp straddled me, and stopped when I tossed him with telekinesis. Her growl returned when he used TK to yank me upright and pull me across the cavern to him.

  "Yeah, that sucked, and," I winced, watching Merriven sink his teeth into my neck. "That's really disgusting. Why does anyone think it's sexy? It friggin' hurts."

  "Biting's fun, in the right circumstances. Those weren't." Moira's lips tightened.

  "Petra's about to show up."

  The gargoyle did, dropping like a rock behind Merriven. My past self fell to the rocky floor when the gargoyle hooked her claws into Merriven's sides.

  He tore free, turning to face her, only to get her huge left paw to his head. About to follow up with her right, Petra checked.

  "I think that’s when I told her not to kill him, telepathically."

  Moira nodded. The gargoyle leaped, wrapping her front legs around the vamp, and they disappeared. Everything went dark, but we heard my whisper to call my hound.

  I couldn't see what happened next, but could hear Logan's voice. "Discord?"

  "He's checking you," Moira informed me. "Covering your neck wound. He has Leglin's collar... and you're all three gone now."

  "Okay." The vision didn't end. I felt a flutter of panic. "Um..."

  "Someone's appeared. A woman." Moira hissed. "She's soaking a cloth in your spilled blood."

  "Crap." I sucked in a breath. "What does she look..."

  The vision changed, and the shamaness pointed. "That's her."

  An even earlier version of my past self, wearing a crimson dress and black robe, sat, while a blonde woman trimmed my hair. Demon Mitchell and his big, scaly, green side-kick stood by watching.

  "Well, guess I have the answer." We kept watching, the vision not ending until the blonde was alone, and had carefully collected the tufts of hair she'd trimmed.

  Moira blinked as our true surroundings reappeared, and released my hand. "A demon."

  "Yep."

  "She has your blood and hair." The shamaness frowned. "Cordi..."

  "I know. I'm in big trouble." I gave her a hopeful look. "Maybe she used it all?"

  "I'd love to be comforting, but I doubt it."

  "Fantastic." What the hell was I supposed to do now?

  "There's only two ways to end this particular threat. Either recover, or destroy, what she has left." Moira was frowning.

  "Which means exploring the demon realm, and that's not exactly the safest place."

  She looked at me. "I'm not certain you fully realize the danger you're in. That demon has enough of you to create a killing curse."

  "Are you," I closed my mouth, remembering that Dalsarin had cursed people into committing suicide. "Never mind. Okay, I have to act fast. Got it. But if she could do that, why hasn't she? Why curse me with delusions?"

  Moira shrugged. "I have no idea. As far as I know, demons' sole pursuit is causing chaos."

  "Maybe punishment for interfering?"

  "Your guess is as good as mine." She drummed her fingers on the arm of her chair. "You'll need help, but care must be taken in choosing who to ask. You don't want anyone who can use blood and hair against you."

  "No elves." I nodded. "And sneaky is the way to go. Going in barrels blazing almost didn't turn out so great, last time."

  My cell phone went off, eliciting drowsy grumbles from the Chihuahuas. Squishy slapped at my hand when I pulled the phone from my jacket pocket. "Hang on, it's the boss."

  Mr. Whitehaven didn't waste time on a greeting. "I'm afraid we have a problem. The spirit is no longer in the mirror."

  "Fan-freaking-tastic."

  TWENTY-ONE

  Lady Celadine had been ranting since we—Logan, Dane, Leglin, and I—had walked through the door. Her cheeks were flushed, and her grass-green eyes were glaring daggers as she catalogued both our failures to retrieve her property in full and my personal flaws.

  “Plain, obviously incompetent, and unbelievably dense.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Any chance you’ll be done soon? Because all you’re doing is wasting everyone’s time.”

  “You misbegotten, impertinent, ugly little monster. How dare you...” She pointed a finger in my direction and shrieked when Leglin hit her with his front paws. He knocked her back and down onto the sofa.

  Petty satisfaction was mine, seeing the muddy paw prints my hound left on her lovely green dress. Leglin didn’t growl, but he did stand in front of her, his eyes locked on hers.

  “I’m not the one who failed to keep your stupid mirror safe. I didn’t let it get stolen.” Crossing my arms, I smiled at her. “Evidently being smart and pretty also means lacking common sense in your case.”

  “You will not speak to me in such a disrespectful,” Celadine tried to push Leglin away. He didn’t budge. “Fashion.”

  “You could’ve avoided this whole mess by A) not loaning out the mirror, or B) setting guards of your own on it.” I dropped my arms to my sides. “Arrogance is not your friend when it comes to keeping magical artifacts out of the wrong hands.”

  The rumpled elf continued to glare at me. I ignored her in favor of telling Mr. Whitehaven, “We need to talk to you for a minute.”

  “Of course.” He gestured at the hallway. “My office.”

  I didn’t call Leglin, since he seemed to have our client under control. He’d keep her from eavesdropping.

  Once in my boss’s office, I explained my immediate personal situation to all three men. There hadn’t been time to fill Logan and Dane in between the boss’s call and getting to the office.

  Before I’d finished, Whitehaven had his elbows planted on his desk, and his head in his hands.

  “So,” I said, “I kind of have to go back to the demon realm anyway.”

  “Dear child, you’re going to be the death of me.”

  “I’m sorry, but it would’ve been nice if someone had mentioned that I shouldn
’t leave bits of myself anywhere when I began this job.” That hadn’t come up until I’d been working for nearly a year. “And it’s not like it’s easy to clean up when you’re practically dead.”

  “She has a point.”

  “Thanks.” I smiled at Logan. “What I’d like to know is, is there a way to search the demon realm that’s sneaky? Our frontal assault the first time around almost didn’t end well.”

  “Petra.”

  Everyone looked at Logan. I said, “What?”

  His eyes narrowed, he tapped his leg. “Actually, Tase.”

  “I’m not taking a baby anything into the demon realm.”

  Mr. Whitehaven spoke. “I’m afraid you’ll have to, if Petra agrees. Gargoyles can sense items that belong to their chosen. Tase will need to be present to help you recover those items.”

  Fantastic. Look at me, putting my newest, youngest friend in potential danger. “What about the mirror?”

  “It wasn’t destroyed, therefore the spirit isn’t free. Quite likely, the spirit was moved into a new receptacle. I would assume another mirror, as transferring such beings into entirely different surroundings can,” Mr. Whitehaven slowly waggled one hand. “Unbalance them.”

  There was still a chance to recover the Mirror Pervert and throw a wrench into whatever the demons were cooking up. Good. “Okay, but how do we find it?”

  “Ooh, I know.” Dane lowered his hand once he had our attention. “We take a piece of its old home with us. A gargoyle can track just about anything, if it has the scent.”

  “And it can get a scent from a mirror?”

  “Scent isn’t exactly the correct word, but it’s close. Gargoyles can make a connection.” Logan smiled. “They’re better trackers than we are, better than anyone.”

  “Okay, so I definitely need to go see Petra and ask for her help.”

  Everyone nodded.

  I clapped my hands together. “Then let’s go.”

  For once, the gargoyles were as active as they were supposed to be at night. Apparently, the mourning period was over.