Smoke and Magic: A New Adult Urban Fantasy Novel (Touched By Magic: Dragon Book 2)

by Ashley Meira

“You calm down!” I leapt to my feet and pulled out my phone, stabbing a thumb against Adrienne’s name. “She’s not answering. Adam, why isn’t she answering?”

  “Sophia—”

  I whipped around. “What?!”

  Adam held his hands up. “Thomas said he was meeting Adrienne after dealing with Sandra’s—” he glanced at Jeffery “—home.”

  “She could have been murdered after he left—”

  “Or they could’ve gone home together,” he said calmly. “And slept in. Which is why she didn’t pick up, and why Thomas isn’t answering his brother.”

  I paced around the room. “We’re going to Thomas’ house. No. Adrienne lives here. We’re going to her place. If she’s not there, then we’ll go to Thomas’. Why are you still sitting? Up. Up!”

  Adam raised a brow but stood regardless. He nodded to Jeffery, thanking him and asking that he call if Thomas reached out, or if he remembered anything that might help.

  I gave Jeffery a hurried wave and “thank you” before rushing out the door.

  Chapter Eleven

  “Pick up, pick up, pick up.” I tapped my foot at a breakneck pace, my phone pressed against my ear. The elevator doors opened with a “ding,” and I rushed through the lobby. “Damn it. He couldn’t have bought Sandra an apartment in Adrienne’s building?”

  “Hello?” Ollie’s voice wasn’t as wary as last night, but I may have been too frazzled to notice.

  “Can you do me a favor?” I said so quickly it came out as one word. “Check if Adrienne’s at her shop.”

  “Okay,” he said slowly. I heard him say something — probably to Anna, his assistant — before the bell above his front door rang and traffic filled the silence. “What’s wrong?”

  “She’s not answering her phone.” Looking over my shoulder, I saw Adam behind me. Adrienne lived two buildings from Symeon — yes, that was how I measured distance around these skyscrapers — on the other side. Meaning I had to run past Symeon’s building to reach it. Damn it. Why were these buildings so wide? “I think the killer may be after her.”

  Ollie didn’t reply, but his footsteps went from a brisk walk to a frenzied pace. “It’s closed. The lights are off, and I don’t see anyone inside. Where are you?”

  “Her place. Can you—” I wanted to ask him to keep calling Adrienne and let me know if she answered. But what if the killer had her? Ollie had been through enough because of me. “Let me know if you hear from her?”

  “Yeah. Hey….” He trailed off. “Be careful, okay?”

  I stumbled over my feet. I used to be so smooth. And independent, I added while turning back to Adam. “I will. Thanks.”

  “You look upset,” Adam said when he reached me. “More upset.”

  I shrugged, pocketing my phone. What was I supposed to say? That I was afraid Ollie and I would stop being friends? That I was scared for Adrienne? That I could have lost my only two friends in less than twenty-four hours?

  “Don’t,” I said as his magic came toward me. “Not now.”

  He gripped my shoulder and turned me to him. “I’m here for you.”

  “Clearly.” I pursed my lips. Why was I so bitchy today? I pressed my forehead against his chest for a moment. “Thank you. Sorry for being—”

  “Adorable?” He smirked, making little batting motions. “You’re like a newborn kitten trying to fight everyone.”

  “It’s an act.” Symeon sauntered through the pristine doors of his glass tower. His skin was so white, almost translucent. I was surprised the sun didn’t burn him with a single glance. “Once she lures you in, she turns into a tiger.”

  “No more tiger talk,” I said. “No more talk. We have to find Adrienne.”

  Symeon arched a brow. “Why— Wait!”

  A put-out sigh followed after me as I sprinted to Adrienne’s building. The doorman gave me a wide berth as I furiously mashed the elevator button.

  “Stupid, damned slow piece of—”

  “The elevator’s been having some technical difficulties,” Symeon said. “It’s running slower than usual. The repairman should be coming tomorrow.”

  I gave him a petulant stare. “You don’t even live here.”

  He shrugged, his hands casually in his pockets. “This young man just told me.”

  Symeon nodded to the doorman, who looked as betrayed as he could get while not-so-subtlely inching behind Adam. It was almost comical how his small frame was completely hidden by Adam’s broad form.

  With a groan, I banged on the golden doors. That made elevators work faster, right? “Damn it, damn it, damn it.”

  “Darling—”

  “Fix this.”

  “Do I look like a mechanic?” he said dryly.

  Adam pulled himself away from the jittery doorman and joined us. “Try another elevator.”

  “They’re not working,” I whined. “Why does everything hate me?”

  “I don’t hate you,” he said, stroking my cheek.

  “Since Sophia is sick of tigers, should I say it looks like you’re petting a hungry wolf?” Symeon looked up. “One more floor. You do realize it’s going to take just as long to get up there, yes?”

  I looked around. “Where are the stairs?”

  “Absolutely not,” Symeon said quickly. “First of all, that’s mad. Second of all, Ms. Lacroix lives on the twentieth floor, which leads me back to my first point.”

  “So, just the one point?” I said dryly. “And how do you know where Adrienne lives?”

  “We have tea on Sundays.”

  The elevator doors opened before I could ask. Whatever. They could have tea whenever they wanted. As long as Adrienne was alive. I rushed in, almost closing the door on Adam.

  “Don’t make me handcuff you,” he said, resting against the wall to my right.

  Symeon leaned on the wall opposite him. “I have a spare pair of cuffs if you need. Though Sophia is talented with a lockpick.”

  I crossed my arms. “That is hearsay.”

  “True,” he said. “I’m not complaining either way. Whatever gets the job done. Perhaps you use magic to sneak your way in, hm?”

  I shot him a sideways glance. Okay, maybe he did know about my magic. Fuck. Any other day, I would have denied it, but I didn’t have the energy to play runaround. Not with Symeon — the man could be relentless when he wanted. “That doorman was terrified of me. You really think I can’t convince him to give me the security footage for this elevator?”

  Symeon gasped, his expression flat. “Threats of murder already? You are upset. Not as upset as I am, however. I can’t believe you hid such a secret from me.”

  Looking at Adam provided nothing but a sympathetic look and a shrug. Great. Did I even have time to kill both of them? I checked the display. Tenth floor. Damn it. “It’s not a secret if you know it.”

  “Semantics,” he said with a flippant wave of his hand. “You really know how to break a man’s heart, darling.”

  “You don’t have a heart.”

  “Then how are you breaking it?”

  “I’ll break you.”

  He smiled deviously. “Looking forward to it.”

  “Okay, seriously?” I threw my hands up and looked between them. “Is masochism some weird inherited trait rich people have, or am I just surrounded by crazies?”

  Adam and Symeon exchanged looks before leaning forward, each kissing one of my cheeks.

  “She’s a tracker,” Adam said, lingering near my face. He gave me another peck before pulling away. “Among other things.”

  “Clearly,” Symeon drawled. “Do calm down, dear. You’re so tense.”

  I stomped my foot, the force jarring the elevator. “I wouldn’t be tense if this thing wasn’t so damn slow. I could have walked up here faster. Hell, crawled—”

  My rant was interrupted by a ding. I rushed through the hallway until I reached Adrienne’s door. There was no magic on the other side. Or was it weak because she was dying? I pounded on the surface, hearing the
wood crack from the pressure. For such a ritzy place, this was some shitty upkeep.

  “Okay.” Adam grabbed my waist and lifted me away. “Her neighbors will call the police if you keep that up. Any chance she leaves a spare key— Stop fussing!”

  I paused my flailing long enough to give him a pigheaded frown. “I don’t like you.”

  “Yes, she does.” Symeon moved Adam to the left, dodging my kick with inhuman grace. “There. You should be big enough to block the camera.”

  With those words, Symeon knelt before the door and fished something out of his pocket. I recognized it as the same lockpick I had in mine. High quality and heavy duty. I didn’t skimp when it came to work gear. Cute lace bras counted as armor, right?

  “Having fun, dear?” Symeon asked without looking back. “Or have you murdered Mr. Pierce? I didn’t hear a thump to signal his body hitting the ground, so I’m guessing you’re just lost in your head.”

  I glared at his silky hair. “Adam—”

  “I’m not letting you kill him,” Adam said.

  “Not kill,” I said. “Maim.”

  He squeezed me, nuzzling his cheek against mine. “I’ve noticed the meaner you are, the more you care.”

  “Sometimes I wonder if we don’t just say that to convince ourselves of her affection,” Symeon said, still working the lock. I could’ve finished ages ago. Forget Fiona, I was going to smother Adam in his sleep. “Sophia is a cruel and terrible mistress, isn’t she?”

  “You two must really want to get shoved out the obscenely large windows these apartments have.”

  “Adam can fly,” Symeon said.

  “You can’t.”

  “True. But you love me, and—” he said before I could rip his hair off “—the door is open.”

  Adrienne lived in one of the smaller one-bedroom apartments, luxurious but not labyrinthine. Her place was tastefully decorated in blues and whites, with accent pieces bringing life to the room. Her presence was felt in every corner of the place, fueling my heartache.

  Nothing was trashed, and I didn’t see anything indicating a struggle. Maybe she didn’t make it home. My throat closed up. Thinking of the worst wouldn’t do anything but make me panic — more — and possibly punch my companions out. Not that they didn’t kind of deserve it.

  Taking a deep breath, I walked around the apartment, trying to pick up on any clues. Chills danced up my spine. That weird magic was here, making me experience temperature like never before. Like the other two crime scenes, the lilac scent lingered around the apartment but didn’t trail off anywhere. It just sat around me like a cloud. A stupid, very unhelpful cloud. She’d come back here with the necklace. Its magic being a dead end was one thing, but why couldn’t I sense Adrienne’s?

  “The necklace was here,” Adam said. “Maybe it still is.”

  I gave him a skeptical look but didn’t reply.

  “Is this the same necklace you mentioned earlier?” Symeon asked.

  I nodded, my eyes fixed on Adrienne’s bedroom. They weren’t going through her things. “Adam, can you fill him in? I’m going to check her room.”

  At his nod, I slipped into the bedroom, closing the door behind me. Adrienne kept a safe in her closet, just like I did. She’d actually given me the idea. I wandered through her terrifyingly organized walk-in closet, feeling for the concealment charm. Even Sandra hadn’t been this neat. Everything was organized by color, then style. I paused, taking in her shoe collection. Fiona was going to kill her for hiding this trove.

  Adrenaline shot through me. The safe appeared before my eyes as the Fire Within danced at the magic I’d absorbed. Casting a furtive look over my shoulder, I placed my palm flat against the safe’s door. The magic slid from my fingertips and through my arms like a soft breeze. By the time I’d absorbed all the protections, my vision was blurred at the edges, outlined by pretty pinks and oranges. Disorienting, but not debilitating.

  I raised a brow at the money she had locked inside. Did no one trust banks? I thought back to the small horde I had in my own closet and shrugged. Guess not. I needed to find a new hiding place, though. My room might not survive another random ambush from magical assassins.

  I led an interesting life. It kind of sucked.

  Manila folders were under the stacks of cash; information she kept on certain items — rare finds or special artifacts requested by clients. I sat on the floor and spread the files out before me. It took three tries for me to find what I was looking for. The folder was thin. Empty, really. All it had was a picture and a post-it note that said, “Check for Sandra.” At least I could finally see what this mystery death omen looked like.

  Thick, diamond-encrusted bands looped around each other like long-lost lovers. The river of diamonds led to a giant tear-drop shaped gem. It was a soft purple color. Lilac, I realized. A bit on the nose, but when you were a shiny looking jewel bigger than both my thumbs put together, you could smell — and look — like whatever you wanted. There was a slight discoloration between the twining diamond vines. Squinting, I noticed there were pearls intertwined between the cords.

  I let out a low whistle. Damn. Very pretty. Definitely something a person would kill for. Not a sane person, but people have killed for less.

  “So,” I announced as I stepped back into the living room, “Adrienne has a really amazing camera. Probably better than yours.”

  Symeon’s lips tugged up in amusement. “We use the same camera, dear. I recommended it to her.”

  “Okay, I’m a little uncomfortable with how close you two are.”

  “Don’t like to mix business with pleasure, hm? And here I thought we were friends. But don’t worry, I haven’t given up on—” He cut off and swiped the picture dangling from my hand.

  “Ow!” I stuck my index finger in my mouth. “Dude, what the hell? Paper cut!”

  I jolted at the blast of healing magic Adam sent my way. It vanished as quickly as it came. Just in time, too — healing magic didn’t get absorbed until my wounds were healed, but a paper cut didn’t need much healing. Before I could thank him, Adam enveloped my hand in his larger one and placed a soft kiss on my fingertip.

  “Better?”

  I glared to balance out my blush, refusing to admit his kiss felt better than any magic.

  Adam turned to Symeon. “What’s in the picture?”

  “The necklace,” I said. “And now my blood.”

  He kissed my finger again. “Do you recognize it, Symeon?”

  “I hope not,” he murmured, pulling out his phone. That definitely wasn’t the camera she used. Still, he snapped a photo before handing me back the original. “I need to look into this. I’ll get back to you.”

  “Is this the necklace you mentioned?” I asked, thinking back to our conversation from last night. Shit. With everything that’s happened, it felt like years had passed since then. “You said the buyer wanted one with oceanic origins. There are pearls laced between the diamonds.”

  “South Sea pearls if I’m correct, though I hope not.” He frowned. Symeon never frowned. “If this is what he wanted, it’s no wonder he didn’t want to provide more details.”

  “He?” Adam said. “Could the killer and buyer be the same person?”

  “Possibly, though I doubt someone like that gets his own hands dirty,” Symeon said, casting me a furtive look. Guess he felt he hit too close to home. “As I said, I need to look into this more. No need to raise a panic.”

  Normally, he’d add something about how I was already panicked or make another smart remark. Instead, Symeon remained quiet, something else he never did. Some people used silence as a weapon, but he was always rambling on about something — whether as a means to an end or simply to fill the moment. I glanced at my finger. Symeon was also too refined to rip something out of anyone’s hand. What did he think that necklace was? And why was it affecting him like this?

  I leaned against Adam. “She’s not here.”

  He kissed my forehead and held me closer. “Her m
agic cuts off here.”

  “I know,” I snapped before regretting it. “Sorry. Her magic stops here, but she’s not in the house. Do you think she’s—”

  He shushed me. “It’s okay.”

  “Adam—”

  “There’s no sign of a struggle. No blood—”

  I pulled away. “The killer couldn’t have cleaned up?”

  “He never did before.” Frustration dug wrinkles into his forehead. “Let’s stay positive. That’s all I’m saying.”

  “Do that,” Symeon said. “Take a breath of fresh air, love. You’ll go mad otherwise. Now, if you’ll excuse me….”

  Symeon stalked out of the apartment, his normally straight shoulders hunched and rigid.

  Chapter Twelve

  We followed Symeon back to his place. No matter how much of a pain in the ass he was, I wasn’t going to risk him getting hurt. Who knew where the killer was? He could come after any one of us. I sent a text to Fiona, making sure she knew to stay with Ollie.

  Symeon looked over his shoulder and shot me a displeased look. The fresh air had helped him, at least. “Breathing down my neck will not yield faster results.”

  I grabbed the hilt of my blade.

  He sped up. “But that might.”

  My phone vibrated, revealing a text from my sister. “She wants us to regroup at Ollie’s.”

  “Okay,” Adam said. “Let’s go. Symeon can call us with whatever he finds.”

  “What? No,” I said. “You can go, but I’m staying here until—”

  “You drive Symeon crazy?” Adam asked. “He’s right, you know: breathing down his neck won’t speed things up.”

  I tried to glare at him, but it seemed my eyes were tired of doing that today. Possibly because they knew he was right. Maybe Ollie could slip a sedative into my coffee. If we were still friends, I thought glumly. Adam wrapped an arm around me.

  “Stop trying to make me feel better,” I said. “Let me feel bad.”

  “As cute as you are when you’re glum, I care too much to not want you happy.”

  Care. There was that word again. “How considerate yet selfish of you.”