Spellfinder

by Carmen Caine

  “Esmeralda.” The warlock rounded on his familiar primly perched on the pillows, bathing her paw.

  The sleek black cat’s ears flicked back, but she continued washing.

  “Esmeralda, I haven’t the time for this.” Lucian’s voice took on the glimmer of a threat.

  I enjoyed it. I truly did. It was fun watching that cat fail. She tried for the role of Innocent, enlarging her eyes in that Puss-in-Boots way. It was masterfully executed, and I couldn’t help but think she’d win.

  But Lucian merely arched a cold brow in a way that all but confirmed he really did have a black, empty hole for a heart.

  Swallowing her immense pride, the slinky black cat slunk off the bed, returning shortly with one of those knitted catnip balls. Taking a swipe, she batted it across the bed and then resumed her paw-bathing as though she’d planned the entire sequence of events all along.

  As the catnip ball rolled to a stop, Ricky’s large black ears popped out, and I experienced the strange combination of delight mixed with a healthy dose of irritation.

  “It’s about time you sprang me from this hoosegow, love. It’s been grim,” the catnip ball complained as it sprouted a pair of wispy smoke legs and tiptoed over to me. “Not my cuppa! Not my cuppa tea one jot!”

  “You’re most fortunate you haven’t been returned and reaffirmed defective, imp,” Lucian inserted coolly. “You are, without a doubt, the most malfunctioning creature of your kind that I’ve ever encountered. Bertha should have paid me to take you off her hands.”

  For some odd reason, that settled it, right then and there. I hadn’t truly accepted Ricky as mine before. Not all the way. And part of me had resented Lucian for saddling me with the bargain-bin, cheapest reject of imps—and one addicted to turmeric to boot. But now. Now? Well, now I wanted to keep the little sucker. Maybe it was because he’d kind of grown on me. Or maybe I just wanted to annoy the snooty warlock hunkering over me.

  Did it matter?

  “Keep him, then,” Lucian murmured, shrugging into his shirt and tucking it in.

  Hex it. I hated it when he read my mind.

  “Hurry up and shower, my dear,” he tossed the words over his shoulder as he headed down the stairs with Esmeralda prissily trailing behind. “You’re wasting time. We’ve got an advantage I’m not going to lose. If all goes according to plan, we’ll have this all finished up tonight—and come out ahead.” He chuckled under his breath. “Quite ahead.”

  I watched his broad shoulders descend the steps. His mood had obviously lightened. I guess the magical war with all those water witches and perimancers—whatever they were—was going well.

  I blinked. Nice. I’d just remembered a bit more.

  But first things first. Shower. At once. Tossing the catnip-ball version of Ricky into my boot for safekeeping, I headed for Lucian’s bathroom, almost drooling in anticipation of a rejuvenating shower.

  The bathroom was an extravagance of marble, minimalist style and a few well-placed works of art, but I didn’t pay much attention to them. The hot water was the main attraction for me. It was a relief to be free of the disgusting combination of rancid garlic and sweat. Finally, I turned the hot water off and swathed myself in luxurious, oversized aloe vera-infused towels—just what was destitute in Lucian’s eyes? With one last regretful look at my shredded, garlic-infused catsuit, I padded into the bedroom to face Heath’s one-size-fits-all Hawaiian muumuu and shell necklace.

  Wincing, I dumped the clothing out onto the bed and eyed the material splayed out before me.

  Wow. Who knew Heath had a flare for fashion? It made his eternal choice of Hawaiian attire a bit bewildering. A nice pair of black slim-fit jeans. A gray-and-white striped shirt, distinctively cut, and a tailored white blazer. Stylish. Perfect fit. As eye-catching as my catsuit had been. Topped off with a block-chain silver choker and a matching pair of earrings, I twirled around a few times for the pure fun of it. Yes. I was going to have to add this particular combo to my wardrobe. Maybe after we’d caught that blasted blue troll, I’d take Heath shopping and see what other fashion tricks he had hidden between his fuzzy gray ears.

  “You’ve got five minutes, Cass,” Lucian shouted irascibly from below.

  Rolling my eyes, I sat down on the bed and dumped Ricky out of my boot.

  “Eh? Eh, what?” he asked, startled awake.

  “Hit any turmeric lately?” I asked in a slightly acidic tone.

  But before he could respond, a tiny voice rasped from near the lamp, “Don’t forget. Lucian’s mine.”

  Tabitha. She sounded like an MP3 on auto-repeat, how could I forget? She huddled under the lamp, her little lizard eyes wet with anger. There was no doubt. I had an enemy. I just wish I knew exactly why.

  “Alrighty then,” I said dismissively as I yanked my boots on.

  She didn’t like that response. Skittering to the edge of the bedside table, she rose tall on her two hind legs and threatened, “I’ve taken down stronger females than you. Water witches. Nymphs. Enchantresses. Nix. Lichans. Perimancers. Sprig—”

  “I gather it’s an extraordinarily long list,” I inserted tartly. Yeah, I could see Lucian as a playboy. But I wasn’t about to sit there and listen to a lizard rattle off a list of ex-girlfriends. Rising to my own feet, I bent down and breathed into her scaly face. “I really don’t care what you’ve done and to whom. Just know this, wannabe-girlfriend or no, if I want him, I’m going to take him.”

  I blinked. Where had that come from?

  She went rigid.

  On the bed, Ricky gasped in shock.

  But honestly, I didn’t care, I’d had enough of her posturing. “Not much you can do to me, Tabitha, but there’s a lot I can do to you,” I bluffed a warning of my own. “Now, get off my back. You’re just stuck with me. Deal with it.”

  She opened her mouth, revealing rows of microscopic teeth. “I will curse you,” she whispered in a monotone. “Curse you—”

  “No! That’s not necessary, O Wise One!” Ricky interrupted, dashing over to prostrate himself before her. “This one speaks in ignorance.” Kicking at me with one tiny smoke foot, he planted himself face down on the bedside table in abject deference.

  Drama. Pure and simple. “You two have a lot in common,” I said. “Both full of hot air.”

  “She’s witless. Ignorant. A fool,” Ricky was blathering, still groveling before Tabitha as if she were a tribal god.

  The entire situation was absurd. And … witless? Really? How much nerve did that puff of smoke have? Wasn’t I his boss?

  “You are unworthy to be in Lucian’s presence,” Tabitha hissed at me in frozen tones. “The offspring of a vampire, the spawn of—”

  “Don’t go there,” I warned, cutting her short. Firedrake or not, my parentage—especially my mother—was off-limits. The whole thing was giving me a headache, and I was notoriously short on patience even without one.

  Ricky’s empty box caught my eye. It was Tabitha-sized. Maybe a timeout would cool her off, stop all this yapping. After all, she’d never really been friendly to me from the start. And in Venice, hadn’t she wanted to send me off to face the Terzi clan all by myself? That was just downright rude. I reached over to pick her up by the tail, but she moved just as I pinched. There was a slight tug. Something gave.

  It was surprising, actually. Her tail came right off.

  Ricky’s eyes rolled in horror.

  Tabitha just froze like a statue.

  I looked down at the tiny tail between my fingers. It was almost worth the price I knew I was going to pay. Almost. From the fury in her eyes, it looked like I’d just shortened my lifespan … by about sixty years.

  Nice Haircut

  Sometimes, the wisest course of action is to just walk away. And that’s what I did. But from the moment I left Lucian’s bedroom, Ricky tried to get my attention. He waved his hands. He hopped up and down. He wiggled. He gyrated.

  I suddenly remembered why I found him annoying.

  The imp’s tom
foolery lasted until he spied Lucian standing in the kitchen.

  The warlock was absolutely stunning. Dressed in jeans, a black shirt, and a gray trench coat, he exuded such charisma and animal magnetism that I figured he could illicit admiring glances from even a turnip.

  Ricky wasn’t too impressed, though. With a sour “Tallyho, duck, he’s no fun to be around!” my smoky trouble-causer zipped out of sight into my blazer pocket.

  I grinned, glad for the break. I guess Lucian had his uses, after all.

  The dark-haired warlock watched me suspiciously from under his brows as I waltzed into the kitchen, but before we could engage in conversation, Heath’s head poked up from behind the open refrigerator door.

  After donning my chic outfit, I’d half expected the werewolf to show up in similar threads¸ but he wore his usual faded jeans and an outlandish fuchsia-colored hibiscus shirt. Had he really picked out my clothes? He removed all doubt by saying, “Primo, Cassidy. Primo! Glad I went with the stripes.”

  “Where did you get the shirt—” I began.

  “Let’s move, shall we?” Lucian interrupted, all business. “Heath, fetch Tabitha. Cassidy, come with me, and bring your imp.”

  “Got him,” I said, patting my blazer pocket. “Where—”

  “Just smell,” Lucian cut me short again. “That’s all you have to do. Find the spells before I trigger them. Preferably without smashing my phone this time.” He took a new smartphone out of his pocket and dangled it in front of my face.

  One could never stay in a good mood around Lucian for very long. As my brows gathered in frustration, an image flashed across my mind. “A spider,” I blurted out suddenly, recalling the tiny spider crawling out of the glass the night before. “There was a spider in your phone last night. Where is your old phone? What did you do with it?”

  That set off a search, digging through the trash and the like, but all signs—and scents—of the tiny spider were gone. And in the end, we only accomplished a delay—an outcome that only served to darken Lucian’s already foul mood.

  “Enough,” he grated, practically seething with exasperation. “We’ve wasted enough time. Let’s go.”

  Grumpy myself now, I followed them both out of the apartment to the elevators, through the lobby, and out the snazzy building’s front door. A rush of cold air blasted my face. I scowled. I hated being cold. Leaving Lucian to hail a cab, I took shelter from the wind behind the gabled entrance. It would be dark soon. There wasn’t much sunlight left. I’d slept most of the day away.

  As I huddled against the cold bricks, Ricky seized that moment to slither out of my pocket, creep up my jacket lining, and hide under my collar. “Blimey! But you’ve lost the plot,” he hissed in my ear.

  Why couldn’t he speak English—or the kind I understood, anyway? I wanted to pick him up and strangle his rascally neck, but I couldn’t very well be seen attempting to choke possessed smoke in public. Tucking my chin into my blazer as if to ward off the November chill, I gritted my teeth and mumbled, “Lost the plot?”

  “Gone crazy,” he translated with a huff. “A nutter. No one in their right mind challenges a drake in her own territory or touches their tail! And you not only touched it—”

  “Oh, give it a rest, Ricky,” I muttered, annoyed. “It was an accident.” And territory? Really? Was she like a mountain lion?

  “She’s taken down stronger Charmed folk than you, love,” Ricky informed ominously, slithering out from under my collar and weaving himself through my block-chain necklace. He was too close, I couldn’t see him clearly, but I could just make out his two large eyes hanging upside down, blinking up at me through the links. “You’re in danger now. Grave danger.”

  “Quit exaggerating.” I blew him off.

  One thing about Ricky—he was persistent. Aggravatingly persistent. “You’re a bit thick-headed,” he continued, shaking his head at me in a pitying sort of way. “Dense. Slow on the uptake, I think some say? A barmpot.”

  “Yeah, I’m witless,” I said sourly, throwing his words back at him.

  The audacious little pest failed to grasp the sarcasm. “Well, that's out there now,” he replied without an ounce of repentance. “You jumped right into the fire with that one, love. She’s not human. And you basically said that you’d lob her right out of her lawful, hereditary station. And her tail? Well, even if you had a prayer, you haven’t one now.”

  I hardly heard what he said. The thread of sincerity in his tone as he said the words she’s not human had caught my full attention. A prickle of foreboding shivered up my spine. Just what kind of grave danger?

  “Brilliant, I’ve snagged you. The slowest ever. Yes, doll, she comes from caves. The caves.” At my blank expression, he groaned. Two little smoke hands shot out of my necklace to pull his face down into a series of theatrical contortions that expressed complete and utter exasperation.

  “Yeah, Lucian’s right,” I said, frustrated myself. “I should return you to Bertha—”

  “You’d miss me dearly, love,” he interrupted, adopting the cheesiest, most disingenuous grin I’d ever seen him deliver. “What were we chatting up? Oh, the … eh … caves. The caves. Tabitha is a drake. The Under Reaches. Hatched from an egg. Scales. That sort of thing.”

  Under Reaches? Egg? I could only stare at him. Or as best as I could, anyway. It was hard to focus my vision that close.

  “Brilliant,” he said in a voice that meant anything but. “It’s a marvel you’ve survived this far, love. A drake—a cousin of the mighty dragon? Dragons are mostly extinct now, but drakes still thrive. Think of them as wingless dragons with bad attitudes. Giant oversized snakes with dragon heads. A picture in that loverly head of yours yet?”

  The picture that sprang to my mind wasn’t exactly pretty. Tabitha was a huge snake? I shook my head in disbelief even as part of me felt it was the perfect match.

  Ricky kept spouting. “Her line has protected the House of Rowle from the start. Her father was House Drake for over a thousand years … until Lady Elizabeth. Well, you know the end of that tale. As their line fell deeper into the curse, their drakes fell with them. For the last four-hundred years, it’s been only Tabitha. She’s the last drake of the House of Rowle. Lucian is her possession. She’s tasked to protect him by guarding the house trolls, his wards. And she’ll die before she sees one hair on his head be harmed. She takes out any and all threats.”

  I was stuck on four-hundred years. But then, it was coming from turmeric-addled Ricky. Not the most reliable source. “Nah,” I muttered in denial. “Stories. She can shape shift into a lizard, granted, but she’s as much a human as I am.” Which wasn’t saying much.

  Ricky let my ironic statement slide. “Believe me, doll, she’s all drake. They’re the adaptable sort. Mixed a bit of their gene pool with shifters in order to take on human form as needed. Survival and that sort of thing. But don’t let that confuse you. She doesn’t operate like a human. Emotions—well, hers are different. She’s 99.9% drake. She’s even more overly protective of Lucian now, what with him being the last Rowle and all. According to Esmeralda, she’s chased off every one of his feminine acquaintances and deemed them unworthy—and they had stellar reputations, didn’t come from a questionable background with Terzi connections. You need to apologize and you need to apologize now!”

  I took exception to “questionable background”, but then I belatedly comprehended … the last Rowle?

  But before I could frame a question, Lucian’s scathing tone shattered my thoughts. “You look quite mad, standing there mumbling into your necklace, Cass.”

  My witty comeback was interrupted by Ricky zipping down into my shirt to hide. It tickled. “Stop it!” I jiggled, swatting my stomach as he slid through a button hole and streamed back into my jacket pocket.

  Lucian found my shenanigans far from amusing. Gripping my arm firmly, he yanked me past an elderly couple staring at me in outright concern, and to where a taxi waited on the curb. I’d been so preoccupied with Ric
ky that I hadn’t noticed the couple or the cab’s arrival.

  “Is it so hard not to draw attention to yourself?” Lucian criticized in an undertone, wrenching the cab door open.

  I replied with a dark scowl. No wonder he was the last Rowle. With his attitude, they’d probably be extinct pretty soon.

  I slid into the backseat next to Heath, catching a glimpse of Tabitha’s blue lizard head poking out of his shirt pocket. Her beady eyes contracted into slits. Yeah, I could see her as a big snake with a dragon head. It matched. I arched a chilling brow. Whatever her problem with me, I refused to be intimidated, big snake or no.

  We rode in silence all the way, and with the heavy holiday traffic, the sun had set by the time we arrived at our apparent destination. Several times along the way, Lucian’s tantalizing scent had swirled around me, mixing with what I figured was Heath’s, an aroma of a distinctly woodsy kind. Once, the mix of leather, sandalwood, and exotic spice drifted through the air. Most likely, Tabitha. The enticing combinations only served to whet my appetite. I hoped Lucian was right and we’d retrieve the ward tonight, otherwise, it was going to be too hard to work with him and his team. I’d rather deal with their ability to surprise me than subject myself to dishes I couldn’t taste.

  The instant we exited the cab, I bumped into a couple of tourists to snatch a quick bite while Lucian paid the taxi driver. It wasn’t until I’d taken my last quick nip that I recalled Ricky tucked away in my pocket. Crud. He’d probably witnessed my secret. He certainly wasn’t above using it to his own advantage. But I didn’t really have time to worry about it as Lucian set off through the busy streets with his gray trench coat billowing behind him.

  We threaded our way through throngs of holiday shoppers, past the Broadway theaters with their billions of lights, and then over a few blocks off the main thoroughfare to an older high-rise building. On the left corner, it housed a small, brightly lit diner with a big sign proclaiming it ‘The Diner’. It was quaint. Simple. Red vinyl booths and stools. Old-fashioned Coca-Cola posters. It looked like a place straight out of the fifties. Surprisingly, it wasn’t that crowded. Maybe the food was bad.