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

by Ashley Meira

  He chuckled. “We’re here. Time to say goodbye.”

  Symeon turned to us as we reached his building. The perturbed expression had left him, but he was still missing that small, amused smile he always wore. As he opened his mouth, the glass doors beside us shattered. We hit the ground, tiny shards cutting into our exposed skin.

  What the hell? I dusted myself off and made sure the men were okay. Adam didn’t look injured, and Symeon seemed more upset about the debris on his clothes than anything else.

  Before I could ask what happened, the shards around us began to vibrate. They rose into the air before stiffening and turning toward me. Crap. I rolled out of the way, taking cover behind a trash can. The shards slammed into the surface, denting and shredding it until there was little more than a ball of metal left.

  A telekinetic mage. Just what I needed.

  “Move!” Adam yelled.

  As I did, the trash can and surrounding glass were blown away by an aggressive gust of wind. The telekinetic, a young man with shaggy blond hair, didn’t look happy about Adam taking away his toys. He and his posse, two men and two women — all magical — spread around us, their intentions clear.

  Good. I may have hated telekinetic mages, but I was loving this chance to work out my frustrations.

  I threw my sword at the telekinetic. He stopped it in mid-air, but I recalled it before he had a chance to use it against me. Growling, I sheathed my weapon. This was the second time in two days my sword was useless. It was almost like the universe was trying to tell me something.

  “These better not be some guys you hired to test my non-sword skills,” I told Adam.

  “No.” He stood by me with a raised brow. “Non-sword skills?”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “I—” Adam stepped back, his face scrunched up. Not in pain. More like… confusion? He reached for me before pulling away and shaking his head.

  My brows knit together. When I turned to our would-be attackers, I saw they were all reacting the same way. My shoulders sagged as I realized what was going on, and my eyes decided to break their “no glaring policy.”

  I met Symeon’s expectant gaze. He raised a brow and gestured to the men. “Well? Come along, darling. I can only keep them ensorcelled for so long.”

  I raised a brow as one of the men threw up on his shoes. “You made him do that.”

  He nodded. “I was counting on you for entertainment, but it appears I must make my own.”

  Who considered vomiting entertainment? A hulking figure caught my eye, but it turned out to be Adam stumbling forward. His gray eyes were blurry as he tried to focus on me, my name half-garbled nonsense among his ramblings.

  I let out a heavy sigh. As far as I knew, I was the only one able to resist Symeon’s siren charm — a side-effect of being Fireborn, I theorized. So, I shouldn’t have been upset that even big, bad Adam Pierce fell for his charm.

  Shouldn’t didn’t mean “wasn’t.”

  A loud scream interrupted my stewing. Stray shards of glass from the doorway took to the air. I leapt back as they flew past me, embedding themselves in the telekinetic’s eyes. I’d barely let out a grunt of disgust when he pulled out a particularly large piece of glass out of his face and began stabbing himself.

  “All right, you have a sick definition of entertainment!” I told Symeon.

  He shrugged, looking almost as good as he had before he’d seen that picture. “I’m not telling them what to do. I just sow the seeds of madness. They’re the ones who act on it. Don’t you find it fascinating? The way people decide to express themselves?”

  “You’re like an insane artist.” I wanted to spare one of them for questioning, but telekinetic guy had just slit his throat and the mage who’d been throwing up was spitting out something that looked like a kidney. Not to mention the two women who were currently strangling each other. “Could you leave one alive?”

  The noncommittal whine he gave me wasn’t comforting. Neither was the splattering sound of vomit man’s…. Oh, gross. I launched my sword, taking his head clean off. Call it an extreme mercy killing.

  “That’s just wrong.” I shuddered, watching one of the women die. That left one woman and — “Where’d the other go?”

  Symeon gave me a smile that had the nerve to look sheepish and nodded at the ruined entryway. More specifically, at the splattering of brains against the ruined doorway, right above a half-headless body.

  A wall of fire blinded me. “Symeon!”

  I heard a sigh before the smell of incense became overwhelming. Symeon’s magic. A sphere of water hovered over the raging flames before bursting and dousing it completely. The scent vanished immediately — along with Adam’s, his evergreen magic carrying a smokey undercurrent. He’d created the wall.

  I followed the scorched marks his magic left — those were not going away without professional repairs — and found they ended in a pile of ash where the remaining mage had been. “Thanks, Adam. Who the hell are we going to question now?”

  “Give him a minute,” Symeon said calmly.

  “And you.” I whipped around, my finger pointed accusingly at his impeccable face.” Why do you call me when you get attacked? You’re clearly more capable than I am.”

  Which I’d known for a while. I always held back from asking, though. Symeon had a penchant for pissing people off, causing them to send assassins after him. It didn’t happen often, but apart from his treasure-hunting jobs, I got roughly three calls a year from Symeon, asking me to save his bacon. He paid me the same fee the Guild did for monster exterminating — without the cut Roger took. That kind of money made it easy for me to hold my tongue, but recent events had me too wound up.

  “I enjoy your company,” he said simply, coming over to pat my shoulder.

  I stared at him, trying to make sense of the insanity I seemed to be constantly surrounded by. “Everyone I know is crazy.”

  “Has it ever occured to you that everyone around you is sane, and you’re the crazy one?”

  It had. “Fix Adam.”

  “Fix?” he crooned. “I can’t imagine you really want me to do that. Pillow talk gets dreadfully boring without the effects of afterglow.”

  “I’m fine,” Adam forced out, reaching for me as he stumbled forward. I grabbed him, and he buried his face in my hair. “I’m fine.”

  “If you throw up in my hair, you won’t be anything but dust,” I said but didn’t release him.

  He kissed the top of my head. “What happened?”

  “Symeon tried to kill you.”

  The siren rolled his ocean blue eyes. “Of course not. I can control my powers, darling. Though not who gets affected. He’ll be nauseous for a while. Nothing some tea won’t fix.”

  “I hate tea,” he groaned. “What did I do?”

  “Killed the only person I could’ve gotten answers from,” I said bitterly.

  “What on earth is going on here?” a ridiculously posh English accent cried from behind us.

  Decked out in a huge fur coat and enough jewels to bedazzle Adam’s truck came Veronica Sutton, the woman responsible for all those petitions calling for Symeon to move to the Garden District — where assassins could come after him without disturbing any of his neighbors. She was a rotund woman with an unhealthy fondness for blush and elaborate up-dos. Today, her black hair looked like a pretzel, matching the little tuft of styled hair Mitzy, her fluffy poodle, wore on its head. Mitzy barked from underneath Veronica’s arm, seemingly drooling over the pieces of meat left by the Vominator.

  Veronica pursed her thin lips, giving Symeon a look so spiteful that even Adam and I backed away. “The resident’s board will be hearing about this.” With that, she gave us one last disgusted look before turning on her heel and storming into the building. “I want this fixed by tomorrow!”

  Symeon let out a long-suffering sigh. “Wonderful, the one time it’s not my fault, and I still get blamed.”

  I gaped at him. “You’re the one who k
illed them!”

  Chapter Thirteen

  I drummed my fingers against the arm rest of Adam’s car, making them numb from the speed.

  “You didn’t use your magic,” he said as we drove to Ollie’s.

  “You did,” I said, pressing my forehead against the window. “Burned that lady alive.”

  He pursed his lips. I couldn’t tell if he was upset, and I was too tired to find out. When the world kicked your ass, it kicked hard.

  “That’s not my point.”

  “What does it matter? Symeon took care of everything in the end.” I shuddered. “Never thought I’d feel sorry for someone trying to kill me.”

  “Guess I was lucky I didn’t see it,” he said, but didn’t look happy. Apparently, being magically roofied didn’t feel good.

  With Symeon’s warning in mind, I volunteered to drive us to Ollie’s. Adam had refused. Typical man. At least we hadn’t crashed into anything, though his nausea made him drive at a snail’s pace. Embarrassment hit me when I realized he was still going faster than I had last night.

  After a moment, he said, “You attacked before Symeon did.”

  “I didn’t want people to see me using magic,” I said, knowing he wasn’t going to let this go. Not to mention I could’ve accidentally broken someone’s magic again. Now that I’d done it — unlocked the gate, so to speak — who knew how easy it would be to screw up and do it again? I definitely didn’t want to risk it in such a public place.

  “The chance of your kidnapper discovering you through your magic use is very low,” he said gently.

  I liked how patient he was with me, but the kid gloves were starting to grate on my nerves. Admittedly, everything was grating on my nerves today. Rubbing my temples, I made a promise to withhold any new judgements on Adam until after my grumpiness wore off.

  “Two groups of assassins in two days.” I sighed. “He could’ve sent them.”

  “If he sent them, they wouldn’t be trying to kill you,” he said.

  “Maybe,” I said, hoping to end this conversation.

  My wish was granted, and we traveled through the business district in silence. Everything felt like sludge in my mind. The only clear images were of Adrienne, her lifeless body splayed out like Sandra and Elizabeth. I could see her deep blue eyes pale and cloudy as dark bruises marred her lily white skin.

  I banged my head against the window. My mind was really creative when it came to violence. Another gift from my captor. Though was it really fair to blame him? New images came into my head, this time of my dream — of whip marks and false kindness. Yes, it was. I had no intention of playing devil’s advocate for a man who left the kind of marks I had upon waking eight years ago.

  But who knew what kind of person I’d been before? Maybe I’d been born sick. A psychopath, rejected by her family and found by another monster. Fireborns all went crazy, right? I could have started out that way.

  It wasn’t until Adam appeared in the window that I realized the car had stopped. I mumbled a quick thank you when he opened the door and looked at the Golden Cat Cafe with dread. I didn’t need another reminder of what a freak I was.

  Adam ran his knuckles down my arm. “What are you thinking of?”

  “You,” I said automatically, trying to think of a lie. “And Symeon. You were positively smitten.”

  He smiled softly. “Jealous?”

  “Self-conscious.” It wasn’t an admission I wanted to make, but it was better than telling him what I’d really been thinking about. “Who knows what pretty face will distract you next?”

  His smile faded, guilt overtaking his features. Crap.

  “I was joking—”

  “No, you weren’t.”

  He pulled me into a hug, ignoring the people walking by. It was one thing to do this late at night, but the streets were crowded during the day. Everyone was staring, and I swore I heard the sound of a camera going off.

  “Let go, or the next thing these people see will be a murder.”

  “I was bewitched,” he said, not letting go. His hand did slide over to mine before I could draw my sword, as if he didn’t think that’d just get him kicked instead. “Much to my surprise. I didn’t think Symeon was that powerful. My fault for underestimating him. It’ll never happen again.”

  “Underestimating him?”

  “No. Well, yes.” He chuckled. “But I’ll never fall for another pretty face.”

  I snorted, my heart racing. “Bullshit. First, you can’t promise that. Second—”

  “Keep talking, and I’ll kiss you.”

  I shut up.

  “I want you.” He said it with such conviction my legs gave out. Guess I wasn’t kicking him after all. “Only you.”

  “If I forgive you, will you let go?” I said petulantly.

  “Why would I ever want to let you go?”

  “I bite. Wait, never mind. Perv.”

  He laughed, loud and warm. Pulling away, he kissed my cheek and wrapped an arm around my waist. “Coffee first, biting later.”

  The crowd outside followed us in, but only those truly interested in food and drink survived Adam’s death glare. Everyone eager to catch a glimpse of the famous Adam Pierce with his new “friend” scurried back outside, their eyes — and cameras — pressed against the window.

  With a huff, Ollie stomped over and shut the curtains. “Sorry, folks, artificial light only for now.”

  I was worried he’d lose business because of this, because of me, but no one seemed to care much about the lack of sunlight. Instead of our usual booth by the window, Fiona directed us to one in the corner, away from everyone else.

  I stared at the seat — as well as the expectant looks of my sister and my… Adam — but couldn’t bring myself to sit down. The wannabe paparazzi weren’t part of my worries yet, not when there was a murderer loose — one that might have hurt my friend.

  Right now, I was worried about Ollie. I thought the car ride would provide some perspective, but all it did was pile on the worry. Did he even want me here?

  “Hey, Sophia,” Ollie called. He was biting the inside of his cheek, his usual nervous habit. After checking his watch, he said, “Can you help me with something in the kitchen?”

  The thought of mild, kind-hearted Ollie shanking me next to his freshly baked cupcakes was as comical as it was morbid. I quickly dismissed the thought and trailed after him.

  He was wringing his hands when I closed the door, his cheeks hollow. They were going to scar if he kept biting them like that.

  “So….” he started, looking at me, then the ground. “About last night. What happened was— I didn’t mean to upset you. I didn’t know you had magic, and it caught me off guard. That’s all.” He finally looked at me again. “You don’t need to go.”

  I’d rushed for him halfway through that sentence, my arms probably squeezing the life out of him. He hugged me back, mumbling another apology. With his calm came the scent of his magic. The fresh laundry brought a smile to my face as it mixed with the smell of cake that he wore almost like a cologne. He claimed it was a hit with the ladies. It certainly made me like him more.

  “Friends?” he asked.

  “Of course,” I said, trying not to sniffle. I’d been enough of a girl lately. “You do have key lime pie today, right?”

  “Of course,” he said. “But how much you get depends on how long you make Fiona play bodyguard.”

  “No one makes Fiona do anything,” I said before getting serious. “I just want to make sure no one comes after you. It’s my fault those thugs grabbed you in the first place—”

  “No food for you,” he said firmly. “Not until you stop being dumb.”

  I frowned. “You’ve been speaking to Fiona.”

  “Yes, he has,” Fiona said, popping her head through the door. “If you two are done, come back out. Adam refuses to tell me anything until we’re all together. Jerk.”

  I rolled my eyes and stepped back into the cafe, pausing as I met Adam’s war
m gray eyes. He gave me a soft smile. I gulped. It was too late to cut him out. I was already hooked.

  “You should hear this too, Ollie,” he said.

  Ollie checked his watch, then nodded. “Give me a second. Anna’s not here today, so I have to do everything.”

  He moved with practiced ease around the cafe, delivering orders and clearing tables, furtively checking his watch every other second. He refilled the food display before grabbing a few freshly packed bags of coffee beans from the counter and brought them over to our table. Guess someone called in for a pickup, and he needed to close them ASAP.

  His eyes widened. “Wait.”

  He stood back up and hurried to the kitchen, returning with coffee for me and Adam along with tea for Fiona. Then, he went back for a steak sandwich, key lime pie, and a slice of chocolate cake. We thanked him, making sure he was sitting down for good this time.

  “Sorry,” he said, casting one last glance at his watch before starting to seal the bags. “Go ahead.”

  “You’re an adorable busybody,” I told him, ecstatic that we were on good terms.

  He pursed his lips. “I am a handsome and responsible business owner.”

  “I don’t know,” Adam said, wrapping an arm around me. “Sophia’s an expert on adorableness.”

  Ollie scoffed. “Just get married already.”

  I kicked him under the table.

  “Ow.” He glared. “First, you almost break my back in the kitchen. Now, this? Find your chill, Wonder Woman.”

  Fireborns had no chill — it was in the name. “Just listen to what Adam has to say.”

  “I was.” He rolled his eyes. “You were the one who started yapping.”

  “She’ll kick you again,” Fiona mumbled through a mouthful of cake.

  I nodded, but leaned against Adam so he could speak. His presence was soothing, though not enough to calm me down about Adrienne. The explaining he did wasn’t helping either. Ollie must’ve sensed it, because he’d given me decaf. The man worked wonders, but even he couldn’t fully shake the taste of decaf. I called it Eau de Poseur. It sucked. What was the point of coffee without caffeine?