by Ciara Graves
Clenching my jaw, I took too long to answer.
She cursed.
“What?”
“I know that look. It’s a damned mage.”
“Yeah. And one I’m not allowed to hurt while bringing him in. Or else.”
“Damian does know your track record with mages, right? How it usually never ends well for them? You accidentally killed the last one.” She made air quotes around the word accidentally. “And this one, what makes him so special you can’t rough him up a bit?”
“Not sure. His file was lacking, but the Gathered want him. Offering five million.”
Gigi looked like she’d swallowed a toad. “What?”
“Yeah. Enough for me to maybe get the hell out of here if it all goes right. So can you help a friend out, or what?”
She tapped the invitation on her hand as she walked over, circling around me in a way that made me wish I’d taken the time to fix my hair before showing up. Gigi always looked perfect. Even when she was fighting, she never had a hair out of place. Me, I looked almost worse than when I got home this morning. When she passed my elbow, she frowned.
“Were you hurt?”
“Yeah. Why?”
She sniffed the air. “Goblin?”
Gigi was a witch, but she had a hint of shifter blood, and it gave her heightened senses. Like her sense of smell, one of the reasons she drove me nuts whenever she came to my place. Between her and Damian, I wasn’t sure who was worse. “It’s good. I cleaned it out.”
“Sure you did. Let me see it.”
“Oh, come on, I’m fine, and I have to get ready for the ball.”
“The ball is tomorrow, and you won’t be doing yourself any favors if you drop dead from an infection.” She held out her hand and scowled at me. “Anytime, sunshine.”
“You’re ridiculous,” I snapped, but shrugged out of my jacket, wincing when it brushed over my wound. I tossed it over a nearby chair.
She tugged up my sleeve then glared at me.
“What? I said I cleaned it.”
“You are terrible at taking care of yourself.”
She tugged me across the room, shoved me into a chair, then bustled around, grabbing bottles of green sludges and a clean towel. I was used to this sort of thing happening when I came around her, but this new target made me more irritable than usual, and I was not the best patient.
“If you don’t sit still, I’m going to give you a freezing charm,” Gigi threatened.
“Sorry.”
“No, you’re not, and you shouldn’t be. Damian is an asshole. Just waiting for him to get what’s coming to him.”
“Yeah. He’s not the easiest half breed to kill.”
There were plenty of ways I imagined him being taken out, but each time I even half considered following through on my plans, I chickened out. Damian had a way of knowing things were going to happen before they did. Plus, he had connections with supernaturals in this city, like the reapers. That would only bode badly for me if I attempted to make a move and failed. Or if I tried to leave. But that payday, it’d be enough. It had to be. Resting in the chair, I focused on the new target instead.
The mage’s name was Liam Manchester. Around two hundred years old. And there wasn’t much else on him. He was known to hang around Sector 7, a reputable area, some claimed. Sleazy was more like it. A lot of kids like me wound up there, doing what was necessary to survive. Grew into adults, stuck in the same situation. Barely surviving. by any means necessary. If Damian hadn’t found me, I probably would’ve wound up there too. The thought alone made me shudder.
Gigi seemed to think it was from the wound. “Almost finished,” she assured me.
“You’re fine, just not sure of my way in this.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean I can’t just walk up to him and be like, ‘Hi, the Gathered sent me to collect you. Come with me quietly please, because my boss told me I couldn’t beat the living shit out of you.’”
Gigi sighed, shaking her head. “You need to be more charming than usual.”
“Right because I’m so great with men of any class.”
“Just keep your mouth shut. Your looks alone are enough to draw the attention of any guy who’s not blind. Especially after I get you all dolled up.”
I lifted my fingers to my face, running it down the right side. Rufus said I was ugly, but to goblins, ugly things were pretty. If my experiences were anything to go off so far, no one other than a goblin would think my face was attractive.
“Stop it.”
“Not doing anything,” I argued.
“Yes, you are. You are beautiful. And that scar only adds to you more… but—” She gave me a look as I made ready to keep arguing. “If you want me to cover it up for the night, I will. I’ll do it when I create a charm to ensure no one recognizes you and blows your cover.”
The scar that stretched from my right eye, down my cheek to my chin was my souvenir from the night my parents were killed. The night I barely managed to escape. It was a miracle I didn’t lose my eye. Another miracle I hadn’t died from infection afterward.
“If I’m going to look like some five-star lady, we probably should,” I replied quietly.
“Then let’s get you a dress picked out. Shall we?”
Several grueling hours later, nearing midnight, Gigi finally stepped back admiring her handiwork. She adjusted the silk in another place, then smiled, nodding her head.
“Damn, you look hot.”
“Really?” I looked at my reflection, unsure. I’d never worn a dress like this in my life.
Hell, I hardly wore dresses. Or makeup. I didn’t own any jewelry, either. She’d done something to my hair she would have to replicate for me in about fifteen hours again, when I set off for the ball. The scar on my face was hidden with a beauty charm that wouldn’t last forever, but to see my face without it should’ve made me happy. Instead, I was shuffling my feet and rolling my shoulders. At least I got to wear my boots.
“Where’s my gun going to go? Or my sword?”
“Thought you said you couldn’t hurt the guy? That you were forbidden?”
“I am not walking into Sector 13 unarmed.”
She winked.
I relaxed.
“Never fear. You should be able to wear a thigh holster beneath this. And your sword, lower back. There’s enough fabric there to hide it while it’s collapsed.”
I spun slowly around again, shaking my head. “You’re a miracle worker.”
“Nah, just good at girly things. You know, for someone close to making a shit ton of money, you don’t seem very happy.”
She was right, but what was I going to tell her? That, not only was I ungodly uncomfortable in this thing, but also, I was going to be walking into the most dangerous situation in my life with no backup and no good way of getting out of there in one piece?
I couldn’t even hurt the mage, which always put a damper on my mood.
Liam Manchester.
The fact his crimes weren’t stated in the file had me on edge, too.
He was powerful, but how powerful? Would he see through this disguise? Before starting any job, I liked to have more answers than questions, but this time around, I was left holding a bag of questions, any of which could easily get me killed.
“Go ahead and change,” Gigi sighed, apparently realizing I wasn’t going to answer her. “I’ll get this ready to go and meet you at your place later.”
As I changed, I imagined how tomorrow night was going to go down, then stopped myself when every scenario ended with me dead in a gutter somewhere. Or worse.
Reapers would keep their prisoners alive for years, decades, feeding off their life forces. Taking down one of their guests would definitely land me in one of those cages if I wasn’t careful.
Giving my reflection another solid glare, I told myself how much of an idiot I was to think this would work.
Gigi had given me a lesson in flirting as I’d been getting dre
ssed. But she gave up on my talking, since I fell back on sarcasm when nervous. She showed me, instead, how to look seductive and snag the attention of the mage.
Shooting Liam sounded better by the second, but no violence meant I’d have to rely on my charm… which was nonexistent.
Guessed we’d see how good of a student I was tomorrow night.
Chapter 4
Rafael
Yawning, I rubbed a hand down my face and set my coffee on my desk.
The night had been long, but then it was always long. I turned on my computer and waited for the old piece of crap to boot up, leaning back in my squeaky chair, aimlessly swiveling it back and forth. I had several reports to type up this morning, and then a long afternoon of sorting through old records, again. Combing over all our old cases on mages, to try and figure out the missing piece to the puzzle.
Then, I had to go on a hunt for a goblin.
Sounded like today was going to be a great day.
“Morning, Raf,” Francis called across the floor as he walked in.
I waved but didn’t say anything. He was used to my being quiet. Everyone here was. Part of the reason I enjoyed my job as a Fed, working for the Paranormal Unit. One of the youngest agents to be successful at the ripe age of twenty-five.
My being a demon might have something to do with it, too. I was stronger than most, faster, had heightened senses that let me track down whoever we were chasing down on any given day. I would never brag out loud, but I was damned good at my job. And rarely did it involve being sociable or chatting it up with coworkers.
Several supes here thought they knew me. The truth was, there were days I wasn’t sure I knew myself. Not really. There was so much I’d blocked out… so much I never wanted to remember…
The computer beeped, and I sat back up, logged in, and began my reports for the day. I was barely through the second one, ready to grab some coffee to warm up what I hadn’t drunk yet, when a file slapped down on my desk.
“You’re off the hunt for the goblin.”
“What? Why?” I asked, confused, staring up at my boss, Nor.
Nor was a demon, too. Twice my size with black horns that curled close to his head, red eyes, and a sneer that scared the piss out of plenty of criminals. I was one of the few he did not intimidate. I’d seen much worse than him. But this goblin he was taking me off the case for, he was wanted for questioning concerning several disturbance cases in the human sectors.
“Read the report,” he growled, leaning against my desk.
My brow furrowed as I picked it up and skimmed the details from one of our contacts in the Underground. “Damn, she snagged another one?”
“Whoever she is.”
“And Rufus?”
“Gone. Dropped off the radar once she left the Underground. Damned bounty hunters. I keep demanding we outlaw them, but all they tell me is we should be faster. How did she beat us to him, Rafael?”
I skimmed over the report again, taking in the details of the fight which occurred at the bar. And how the contact—translation, informant—described this woman’s style. She was fast. Faster, he stated, than he’d ever seen. There was no mention of what she was, though. There never was. Or a good enough description to know exactly what she looked like. Give us a chance to figure out her name. We’d been one or two steps behind her on over a dozen cases. Each time, none of our agents could even get close.
“She knows different people, moves in different circles—worse circles—than we do,” I said, setting the file down. “Somehow she found his location before we could.” Which as soon as I said it, ticked me off. This contact had been at the bar, which meant either he had no idea what Rufus looked like, or he held out on us, and was, in fact, working with the bounty hunter. Instead of us, as promised. “I suggest we lose this contact. He does not seem to be loyal to the Feds.”
“Good call,” Nor said and grinned. “Already done.”
I nodded, not sure why he was still at my desk. If the hunt for the goblin was off, that’d give me more time to search for more details on another target.
“You have plans tonight?” Nor asked slowly.
“Same as usual, why?”
“Going home and disappearing into your apartment? One of these days you should try to meet someone. Friends. A demoness. Someone.”
I shrugged. “I have reports to finish, sir.”
“There is more to life than work.”
“Hmm,” I replied, turning back to the computer.
He dropped something on my keyboard.
From the fancy envelope, it was important, and I opened it up. “An invitation?”
“To a ball. I need an agent there. Tonight. Word has it our mage is going to be there, and I want recon on him. If nothing else. I want to know what the hell he’s doing socializing with the reapers.”
“How do you know he’s actually going to show up?”
“Because, not all our contacts are more loyal to the bounty hunters. Snagged us an invite and I will warn you, this bounty hunter who keeps messing up our well-laid plans will most likely be there, so keep a sharp eye out. Heard the Gathered put out a bounty for him yesterday. But—” Nor tapped his jaw with a forefinger, deep in thought. “—but we need him, understand?”
“Yes, sir.” I glanced over the details, then stopped. “Sector 13? We have no jurisdiction there.”
“The hell we don’t,” he snapped. “The reapers can say all they want that we have no right being in their territory, but they’re citizens in this city. Just like every other supe. That will get you in, but I suggest you don’t go parading around or advertising that you’re a Fed. I’d like to see you in one piece tomorrow morning.”
“Ball… that means a tux.”
Nor handed me a business card. “He knows you’re coming and is ready to put in a rush order for you. Use him all the time. Great warlock. Wicked fast with alterations.”
A tux. And a ball with a ton of supes, some of who would enjoy trying to kill me if they learned my identity. And magic. I made it a point never to socialize with any magical race. No matter what the case.
“It’s just a tux, Rafael,” Nor said, his voice quieter. “Don’t rip the poor man’s head off.”
Belatedly, I realized I’d been growling and stopped abruptly. “You sure this is a good idea?” I asked, changing the subject.
“Which part makes you nervous? Being in danger? Or being around so many supes?”
I frowned. “Never said I was nervous.”
“Don’t have to. I can smell it on you.” He patted my shoulder. “Chin up, Rafael. Who knows, you might have a good time before you have to arrest the mage.”
“Surrounded by reapers and the company they keep… I doubt it.”
“Then get in, find him, and get the hell out.” His gaze ran over my face as he sighed. “You look like shit by the way.”
I grunted, tossing the invitation to the side of my desk. “Thanks, boss.”
“Did you talk to someone yet?”
I went on typing, ignoring what he was asking me until he reached over and rolled my chair away from my desk.
I crossed my arms, glaring up at him. “Yes, boss?”
“You’re too young to be bearing this weight on your shoulders,” Nor uttered, worry clear in his voice. “And if you sit there and try to lie to me and say you’re fine I’m going to call bullshit. Just like I do every other time. You need to talk to someone about what happened.”
I stiffened, gritting my teeth and doing my best not to snarl at my boss.
“It’s going to eat you alive if you don’t. You’ll burn out. That’s all I’m saying. And this aversion to magic, it’s going to get you in trouble one day. I can handle a few slip-ups every now and again, but if you lose it one time, if you kill someone out of spite, for what they are… I’ll have to arrest you. You understand that, right?”
“Yes, I do. I’m fine, sir,” I promised, but his pinched look said he clearly didn’t believe me. �
�Can I finish my reports now?”
“You’re the most stubborn-ass demon I’ve met,” he muttered and started to walk away. He stopped, turned halfway back to me, then grunted, and kept on going.
I pulled myself back up to my desk, but my fingers hovered over the keys, not making any motion to actually work.
A ball.
I had to attend a damned ball in order to track this mage down. That was just fantastic and not even close to what I had in mind for tonight. Locking myself in my apartment, being alone, that was the plan every night. The plan was not socializing with criminals and other scum in Sector 13.
Unable to think of my current reports, I pulled up the file we had on Liam Manchester, figuring I might as well take the time to study up on him before I headed out tonight.
There was very little we knew about the mage. We mostly wanted to bring him in for questioning. Rumors circulated about his being involved with the dark magic trade, bringing banned products in and out of Nashville to various sectors. He was violent, too. Several high-profile deaths of judges and supe cops were connected to him, but there was never enough proof to throw his ass in a cell.
We needed to get our hands on him, interrogate him and break him down. Liam was a little fish, in all honesty. He was working for someone. The question was, who? If he was going to be at this ball, his boss might be, too.
I cursed quietly, musing at the possibility he worked for the reapers. That would make my whole night even better. I scrolled down and read over the other few facts. He had been part of the Gathered, and they put a bounty out on him, probably wanting to clean up their own house. If they got their hands on him first, we’d lose our shot at figuring out the bigger picture. Liam was part of it, and I needed his ass sitting here at the Fed building, not disappearing into nothingness.
The system was far from perfect, but it ran well enough. Most days. My main job was to keep the supes safe from humans that attempted to interfere or cause us grief. But when our own stirred up shit, it made my job even harder, and gave the humans even more excuses to hate us. Especially, when our internal fighting spilled out of the sectors and into their streets. The sectors were only connected by magical transports.
