Heirs of Avalon

by Alica Mckenna Johnson

  “Sorry.” I picked up my cup of tea and took a sip.

  His brow furrowed. “What do you have to be sorry for? So, we’ve met four times now. Would you like to share what we are?”

  “Oh, um, I didn’t realize there was etiquette to meeting each other.” And now I sound like a dork.

  Ramsey sat back. “There isn’t I suppose, at least nothing formal.”

  “So do we count to three and each shout out our magical side or something?” I asked trying to be teasing.

  “I’m a selkie,” he offered.

  “Myths say you can come on land only once every seven years,” I said.

  “Yes, well, it made booty calls easier in the olden days. Men would come on shore, seduce a woman and then not have to worry about her looking for him again.” Ramsey grinned.

  “I suppose cell phones have ruined that.”

  “That and no one believes in selkies anymore.”

  The waitress came and refilled our tea.

  I waited until she left, took a deep breath and said, “Phoenix.”

  He nodded. “That would explain the heat in your magic. I’ve met other Children of Fire, as you call yourselves. But you feel stronger than the others I’ve met.”

  Interesting, he didn’t know I was the Jewel of the Phoenix King and Queen. Should I tell him? No, I don’t want to be treated differently, not by him. And it could also be a safety issue right? I mean, Gavin doesn’t like me letting people know who I am without his approval, so best to keep quiet. “So is that why you helped me the other day? Because I’m magical?”

  Ramsey flashed that wicked grin, the one that promised trouble and fun all rolled into one. “Well, it’s how I noticed you at the show. I felt it when you reached out to find out about us. I assume that is how I got your attention, that you felt me.”

  That and the glimpse of tattoo on your thigh. “I felt the singer and violinist feeding off the crowd.”

  He nodded “Yes, they’re part siren. They don’t hurt anyone.”

  “I figured that out. It’s a wonderful way to incorporate your magic into the performance,” I said.

  “Their music calls to people.”

  “And the other three of you?” I asked.

  The enticing grin came back. “Well, the flutist is from Pan’s line and the drummer is my older brother.”

  “So let’s see,” I thought about what I knew of magical beings. “The flutist would also be able to entice and call to people.”

  “Well, to their more animal base emotions.” Ramsey waggled his eyebrows. “And my brother and me?”

  I tried to keep my lips from twitching. “Eye candy.”

  Ramsey laughed, and the sound sent shivers down my spine. He leaned towards me. “I refer to us as the raw sexual magnetism.”

  Okay, this blushing thing is getting boring. I jumped when my phone chirped, letting me know I had a text.

  “Everything okay?” he chuckled.

  “Stupid phone,” I muttered checking the message. “It’s my uncle reminding me that we have some event to go to tonight, and I need to be ready by six.”

  “What time is it now?”

  “Eleven thirty. Do you have to go somewhere?”

  He smiled. “Nope not for hours. You?”

  I shook my head.

  “Well, would you consider spending the afternoon with me?”

  “Because we are both magical beings?” I teased.

  “No, because we are both hot magical beings.” Ramsey stood and held out his hand.

  He thinks I’m hot? “So what should we do?”

  “I know just the thing.”

  Ramsey didn’t let go of my hand as we walked down the street. We stopped, and there in the window was the dress I had looked at the other day.

  I glanced at him and he arched an eyebrow. I felt his amusement and a touch of challenge against my empathic shield.

  I walked into the boutique and sneezed. The scent of fake roses filled the air. I was going to smell like this all day, yuck.

  “Can I help you?” said a woman with short, spiked brown hair. She looked me over and raised an eyebrow. I guess my jeans and sweater weren’t impressing her.

  “Yes, I’d like to see the outfit in the window please.”

  She sniffed, handed me the dress and shoes, and led me to the changing room.

  Ramsey lifted his nose into the air and flipped his hair back with his hands acting all snooty. Giggling, I went into the changing room.

  I slid on the black dress—the neckline draped down lower than I expected. The dress fell along my curves and flowed out around my thighs. I sat on the small bench and slipped my feet into the copper shoes and laced the straps up my calves.

  Standing I looked at myself in the mirror, the heels made my legs look longer and pushed my butt out. Was this sexy? Did I look sexy in this, and how can one tell? I thought of my mom’s journal entry on being sexy:

  I hope I am with you when you grow into a young woman, but your father has been having dreams, awful dreams and I fear I won’t be there. So how can I help you as you try to express yourself, your beauty, and being sexy? Of course I want you to know that true sexiness comes from within, from being kind, courageous, intelligent, strong, and having self-respect. But I know when my mom said this to me as a young woman, I rolled my eyes. So here is a bit of more practical advice: wear what feels comfortable. If something is too tight or too revealing, it won’t be sexy because your discomfort will come through. No matter what the media says or celebrities wear, remember exposed and sexy are two different things. If you’re confused, go look at pictures of Marilyn Monroe, Audrey Hepburn, Greta Garbo, and Eartha Kitt.

  I wished my mom was here now. I wiped my eyes and looked back in the mirror. The soft material hugged my body but didn’t show my panty lines. The dropping neckline hinted, but didn’t show anything. I liked it. I felt sexy and confident.

  “Come out here and let me see,” Ramsey said.

  Would Ramsey agree?

  Ramsey twirled his finger. I rolled my eyes and twirled. The light fabric swirled around my thighs. “Hen, you look really braw.”

  I flushed, I wasn’t sure what he meant, but his desire felt warm and intense.

  I looked into the mirror, smoothing the fabric over my waist and hips. “If you’re sure, I’ll get it.”

  “Very sure, hen. I’m very sure.”

  I ducked back into the dressing room, hiding my grin. I did I little happy dance before changing. I had to take several deep breaths to calm myself and not smile like a crazy person.

  I walked over to the counter and handed her the dress and shoes. “I’ll take these please.”

  The sales girl sniffed and rang them up and raised a challenging eyebrow at the amount. I smiled and handed her my credit card. Gavin had helped us get prepaid credit cards that would handle foreign currency so we wouldn’t have to always worry about exchanging money and fluctuating rates. The sales girl smiled and wrapped everything up for me. “Have a good day.”

  “Thanks,” I took the bag.

  Once on the street, I turned to Ramsey. “Where to now?”

  Ramsey tugged on the strap to his yoga bag. “Do you want to walk around? At some point I need to get my kilt, jacket, and waistcoat from the cleaners, but other than that I have no plans.”

  “Going somewhere fancy tonight?”

  “Aye, there is this gig tonight, a big benefit party for a marine charity. We have to dress smart.”

  “Well, which way is the cleaners?” I asked.

  Ramsey pointed to the left.

  “Let’s walk that way, and we can pick your stuff up. I wouldn’t want you to be running late,” I said, walking down the street.

  “Cheers, anything to not have Solange yell at me. So what are you doing tonight?” Ramsey asked.

  “My uncle got invited to some fancy party. It doesn’t sound like a lot of fun to me.”

  “Maybe you’ll be at the party I’m playing at.”
r />   I laughed. “I might be magical, but I can’t create miracles.”

  Ramsey winked at me. “So seeing me again would be miraculous?”

  “You wish.” I looked at the window display of holiday themes antiques.

  “I know if you showed up in that dress you just bought, I would think a miracle had happened.” Ramsey leaned close to me and his curls fell over my shoulder.

  Flushing, I walked to the next window full of cooking stuff—boring. I walked on. “I’m wearing a different dress tonight. My aunt helped me pick it out.” The next window displayed antiques with fake pine boughs and ornaments scattered about. The faint pulse of Akasha vibrated through the window. “I need to go in here.”

  “What? Why?” Ramsey asked.

  I turned leaned in close to him and whispered, “There’s something magical in there.”

  “Okay,” Ramsey opened the door, and a bell jingled. Warm air scented with old books, lemon oil, and tea enveloped us.

  I took a breath and thinned my empathic shields, following the vibration to the glass display case. In the center, surrounded by antique jewelry, lay a solid necklace of braided silver. The ends were beautifully carved dragon heads about two inches apart. The eyes of the dragons were deep, clear blue. Definitely from Akasha. I felt it, but not from Shamash. Reaching up, I touched my fire pendant, a gift from Shamash to one of his children four thousand years ago. The thrum of Phoenix energy was clear in the pendant, but didn’t come from the odd necklace. It also didn’t feel like his brother Quetzalcoatl’s energy, but I would have to check it against the gold cuff back at the hotel.

  “Bloody hell,” snapped Ramsey.

  “What?” I asked. At the same time the salesman said, “Sir, please watch your language.”

  “The sporran,” Ramsey said pointing to a round, gray fur bag. It reminded me of the cloth one he wore with his kilt. “It’s made from a selkie’s pelt.”

  “Oh, God, Ramsey.” I stared at it. “Who would do such a thing?”

  The bell chimed as a customer left, and the salesman came over to us. “Can I help you?” he said, disapproval evident in every perfectly pronounced syllable.

  “I would like to purchase the necklace, please,” I said. “And the bag.”

  He sniffed and made no move to unlock the case. “The torc and sporran are both quite old and valuable.”

  Ramsey’s horror and pain wrapped around me, tightening as his breath became more shallow. “Would you like me to pay for them before you take them out of the case?” I snapped.

  He blinked. “I’ll bring them over to the counter so you can examine them.”

  “Thank you.” I grabbed Ramsey’s hand and went to the counter.

  The salesman laid out a piece of black velvet and set the objects on top. I didn’t look at the sporran, but Ramsey growled as he looked at it. I handed the man the credit card Gavin had given me for emergencies, my stomach rolling with nausea as the bill came to over a thousand pounds. I hoped he wouldn’t be too upset. This felt like an emergency to me. The salesman ran my card, looking at me suspiciously until it cleared. Then he wrapped the torc and sporran in white tissue paper and into boxes to protect them.

  I jumped as my phone rang. The sales man sniffed his disapproval. “Hey, Sasha.”

  “Where are you?” he snapped. “I looked for you all morning. I assumed I would bump into you by lunch, but no! This hasn’t happened before, I didn’t realize that my Dream was happening today. I mean I saw everyone else, so I assumed you were in your room. Where else would you be?”

  “Sasha, calm down and tell me what’s wrong?” My skin itched and my stomach felt like it was rolling.

  “Are you shopping?” he snapped.

  Oh, good a new crazy. The old crazy was getting boring. “I went for a walk, ran into a friend, and, yes, we are shopping. I did text people that I was leaving. I don’t see …”

  “Shut-up, are you buying a solid necklace?”

  “Yes.”

  My eyes widened as very foul and creative Russian curses echoed through the phone at the same time my stomach felt queasy and my skin began to itch. “You need to leave—now! Something is coming. I don’t know what. In my Dream a black shadowy spirit came into the store, a walk-in I think. It was looking for the necklace, but then it saw you and screamed so loud that the sound made my bones ache. Other black spirits heard the cry and came, but from far away. You need to get out of there now.”

  The bell above the shop door opened, my stomach clenched. I felt sick. I squeezed Ramsey’s hand.

  “Too late.” I turned to Ramsey. “Please, look at the counter, don’t look around the room, don’t make eye contact with anyone.”

  His brow furrowed and his lips tightened, but he nodded and looked at the display of ancient coins.

  “Listen he can’t see you, do you understand. You can’t let him see you. He isn’t that strong, and he’s there for the necklace, get out of there as soon as you can. If he sees you he will call for backup, and that was bad in my dream, very bad.”

  Not good, not good. I blinked willing myself to feel the spelled contacts, the one that hid the flames that danced in my eyes, marking me as a Child of Fire. A walk-in—one of the Sons of Belial’s henchmen—are spirits their leader Cartazonon sends into people who owe him a favor. They weren’t strong, and as long as they couldn’t see the fire in my eyes they couldn’t track me beyond their human host’s ability.

  “Sasha,” I began rubbing the hand print scar on my wrist where Cartazonon had grabbed me in a dream. Miu had stopped the pain but couldn’t help the scarring.

  “No listen, keep your head down, he is focused on his search. Right now he assumes the object is powerful, which is why he’s not looking for you. Get out of there as soon as possible.”

  The bell rang again. A chatty group came in. Yes, they would confuse the walk-in.

  “Okay, yes I’ll be right there,” I said signing the receipt. “I am so sorry I forgot.”

  “Call me when you get away.” Sasha hung up.

  “Have a good day,” said the sales clerk.

  Turning to Ramsey, I stood on tip toe and hugged him and looked over his shoulder. I found the walk-in, a plump middle-aged man with thinning mouse-brown hair, on the other side of the store his head jerking as he looked each item over. “Do you know what a walk-in is?”

  “Do you mean a hunter, a ghost that steals people for the Sons of Belial?”

  Okay, good description.

  “There is one in the store. We need to leave, but not let him see us,” I said.

  “Oh, Gerald, come and look at this,” called out a woman. The walk-in scurried to the back of the store where the woman went.

  I tugged on Ramsey’s hand. Once outside Ramsey took the lead, weaving us through the crowd. My skin felt dirty, but the persistent itching faded.

  “Ramsey, I don’t feel it as strongly. Let’s stop so I can focus better.” I wanted a shower. It took water, or Phoenix fire, to cleanse the gross feeling of having been close to something so warped and evil off of my skin and empathic bubble.

  Ramsey ducked into an alley. I leaned against the side of a building, took a deep breath, and reached out with my empathy. “Found him, he’s frantic and searching but doesn’t know which way to go. The ambient magic in London is confusing him, plus the magical creatures scattered about.”

  “What creatures?” asked Ramsey.

  “Little pixies, fairies, and brownies that live in the nooks and crannies of the buildings.”

  Ramsey smiled. “Do you mean broonies?” A lovely rolled r and drawn out oo sound sent a shiver down my spine. Down, hormones, down, now is not the time.

  “I’ve always heard it pronounced brownies, but it is a Scottish word so you would know,” I said trying for casual. Judging by his grin I failed. “Anyway there is also a lot of magical blood in the human population too, apparently there was a lot of free love at some point.”

  “Well,” said Ramsey. “We are irr
esistible. Should we go ahead and go? Is there any way to insure it won’t follow us?”

  “Purrrhaps I can help.”

  I jumped and looked up. Okay it had happened, I went insane. It is official.

  “Bloody hell,” Ramsey said. “You scared us.”

  “You see it too?”

  “Actually it is a she, and yes, you both can see me.” The cat grinned. I blinked, nope it was still there, an orange striped cat. The different shades of orange in the cat’s fur made my head swim.

  “Have you never seen a witch’s cat before?” Ramsey asked.

  “No. It reminds me of the Cheshire cat.” Okay mythical creatures being real is one thing, supposedly made up creatures in stories was a bit hard to take. Focus, Sapphire, focus. “You said you could help us?”

  “Hummm, yes. I have nothing else to do today, so it would amuse me to lead your evil spirit away. The church grim two streets over is bored. I’ll take him there.”

  “That is very kind of you,” Ramsey said. “What do you want in return?”

  The cat chuckled, a cold shiver ran through me. “A chance to help Phoenix royalty is enough.” The cat stood, stretching every muscle in a slow arch until the tip of her tail gave a little shake. “Okay, time to play. Take care, Jewel of the Phoenix King and Queen.”

  The cat jumped to the sidewalk and faded inch by inch as she walked towards the walk-in.

  “Jewel?” Ramsey asked.

  Chapter Nine

  I pulled out my phone. “It’s nothing important. I have to call Sasha. Which way should we go?” I tried not to flinch as Ramsey’s irritation scraped across my shields.

  “Fine, there is a bench over here.”

  I twisted my mom’s ring on my finger. Should I tell him the truth about being the Jewel? Maybe he wouldn’t treat me differently. I mean he didn’t know about the Jewel legend, so he might not care so much. My stomach gurgled a mix of fear and hunger.

  Ramsey sat on the bench. “Hey, Murdock, are you still at the flat?”

  I guess we weren’t going to talk about it right now. I called Sasha and sat down with a sigh.

  “Are you okay?”

  Wincing, I held the phone away. “Yes, we’re fine. A few magical beings decided to help us out and are leading the walk-in away.”