Academy of Magic (Dragon's Gift: The Valkyrie Book 2)

by Linsey Hall

  “Hi.” A strange expression crossed his face, something I couldn’t quite process. “Can I speak to you?”

  I nodded, still surprised to see him. I’d given up on him showing.

  He pulled me into a little snug room on the emptier side of the pub. A wide, wooden bench and table were crammed inside, but we found a nook in the corner that was hidden from the eyes of the other patrons.

  I ended up with my back against the wall and Cade looming in front of me. His gaze was bright, his face torn. Tension thrummed between us, a desire so strong that it filled the air.

  How the hell were we supposed to fake being normal?

  “I tried to stay away, but I couldn’t.” Cade’s voice was rough. “I don’t want to pretend any longer.”

  Joy and confusion flashed through me. “What do you mean?”

  “I like you, Bree. I thought I could ignore it. I can’t. ”

  My heart raced. His gaze was riveted to my lips. Every inch of my body tingled. His storm-at-sea scent wrapped around me, clouding my mind.

  “I can’t, either,” I whispered.

  Kiss me. I begged with my eyes.

  His big hands gripped my waist and pulled me toward him. My front pressed against his hard chest and I gasped, right before his mouth slanted against mine.

  His lips were warm and skilled. I parted mine eagerly, plunging my hands into his hair and holding him tight to me. He kissed like a man possessed…like he couldn’t get enough of me. As if he were going to die tomorrow and this was his last chance.

  I was no better, my restraint stolen by desire. Heat blazed through me as his hands ran up my back, strong and broad. They felt like they covered every inch of me, making me imagine what else he could do with those hands.

  I gasped and pulled back, startled by my own desire. My own greed for him.

  He lifted his head, his breath coming short. His expression was pained, as if he couldn’t bear to let me go. “You’re right. Not here.”

  I nodded my head. “Right. Right.” I swallowed hard. “I like to take it slow anyway.”

  “Normally, so do I.”

  I pressed a hand to his chest, trying to catch my breath. “Well, hold your horses, because I might want to jump your bones, but I’m not going to. Not yet. Not until I’m ready.”

  “Aye.” He smiled, looking perfectly content with that. Though still a bit tortured.

  “You’re right, though. We can’t pretend anymore. I’m ridiculously distracted by you. It’s embarrassing.”

  “Likewise.”

  “What about the Protectorate?”

  “It’s not technically against the rules. It’s more my own rule. It’s dangerous to be distracted by the one you’re working with. But I realized I’m going to be distracted by you no matter what.”

  “More so,” I said. “Because we don’t know what we’re missing. All I do is wonder what kissing you would be like.”

  “Exactly. Even after I kiss you once, I want to know what the next time will be like.”

  “So, we’ll just get it out of our system,” I said. “Just like you said back in the stairway to the armorer’s.”

  “That didn’t work.”

  “Eventually, it will. We’ll just let this run its course, and in a few weeks, we’ll be back to normal. Colleagues.”

  Somehow, I doubted it. But it was the only thing I could think to say. I did want more with Cade—whatever that would turn out to be. But I wasn’t willing to say, “Hey, let’s be in a relationship.”

  We weren’t even close to that point yet.

  But some kissing and not pretending to ignore each other?

  That would be great.

  And if I could figure out what the Rebels Gods were, and how to get my power under control, I might live long enough to enjoy it.

  THANK YOU FOR READING!

  I hope you enjoyed Bree’s first book as much as I enjoyed writing it. Reviews are so helpful to authors. If you want to leave one, you can do so on Amazon or GoodReads.

  Join my mailing list to stay updated. You’ll also get a free ebook copy of Hidden Magic, the story of the FireSouls’ early adventures. Turn the page for an excerpt of Hidden Magic. The story stars Cass, the girl that Bree and Cade visited in Magic’s Bend.

  Excerpt Of Hidden Magic

  Jungle, Southeast Asia

  Five years before the events in Ancient Magic

  “How much are we being paid for this job again?” I glanced at the dudes filling the bar. It was a motley crowd of supernaturals, many of whom looked shifty as hell.

  “Not nearly enough for one as dangerous as this.” Del frowned at the man across the bar, who was giving her his best sexy face. There was a lot of eyebrow movement happening. “Is he having a seizure?”

  “Looks like it.” Nix grinned. “Though I gotta say, I wasn’t expecting this. We’re basically in a tree, for magic’s sake. In the middle of the jungle! Where are all these dudes coming from?”

  “According to my info, there’s a mining operation near here. Though I’d say we’re more under a tree than in a tree.”

  “I’m with Cass,” Del said. “Under, not in.”

  “Fair enough,” Nix said.

  We were deep in Southeast Asia, in a bar that had long ago been reclaimed by the jungle. A massive fig tree had grown over and around the ancient building, its huge roots strangling the stone walls. It was straight out of a fairy tale.

  Monks had once lived here, but a few supernaturals of indeterminate species had gotten ahold of it and turned it into a watering hole for the local supernaturals. We were meeting our contact here, but he was late.

  “Hey, pretty lady.” A smarmy voice sounded from my left. “What are you?”

  I turned to face the guy who was giving me the up and down, his gaze roving from my tank top to my shorts. He wasn’t Clarence, our local contact. And if he meant “what kind of supernatural are you?” I sure as hell wouldn’t be answering. That could get me killed.

  “Not interested is what I am,” I said.

  “Aww, that’s no way to treat a guy.” He grabbed my hip, rubbed his thumb up and down.

  I smacked his hand away, tempted to throat-punch him. It was my favorite move, but I didn’t want to start a fight before Clarence got here. Didn’t want to piss off our boss.

  The man raised his hands. “Hey, hey. No need to get feisty. You three sisters?”

  I glanced at Nix and Del, at their dark hair that was so different from my red. We were all about twenty, but we looked nothing alike. And while we might call ourselves sisters—deirfiúr in our native Irish—this idiot didn’t know that.

  “Go away.” I had no patience for dirt bags who touched me without asking. “Run along and flirt with your hand, because that’s all the action you’ll be getting tonight.”

  His face turned a mottled red, and he raised a fist. His magic welled, the scent of rotten fruit overwhelming.

  He thought he was going to smack me? Or use his magic against me?

  Ha.

  I lashed out, punching him in the throat. His eyes bulged and he gagged. I kneed him in the crotch, grinning when he keeled over.

  “Hey!” A burly man with a beard lunged for us, his buddy beside him following. “That’s no way—”

  “To treat a guy?” I finished for him as I kicked out at him. My tall, heavy boots collided with his chest, sending him flying backward. I never used my magic—didn’t want to go to jail and didn’t want to blow things up—but I sure as hell could fight.

  His friend raised his hand and sent a blast of wind at us. It threw me backward, sending me skidding across the floor.

  By the time I’d scrambled to my feet, a brawl had broken out in the bar. Fists flew left and right, with a bit of magic thrown in. Nothing bad enough to ruin the bar, like jets of flame, because no one wanted to destroy the only watering hole for a hundred miles, but enough that it lit up the air with varying magical signatures.

  Nix conjured a baseball bat
and swung it at a burly guy who charged her, while Del teleported behind a horned demon and smashed a chair over his head. I’d always been jealous of Del’s ability to sneak up on people like that.

  All in all, it was turning into a good evening. A fight between supernaturals was fun.

  “Enough!” the bartender bellowed. “Or no more beer!”

  The patrons quieted immediately. Fights might be fun, but they weren’t worth losing beer over.

  I glared at the jerk who’d started it. There was no way I’d take the blame, even though I’d thrown the first punch. He should have known better.

  The bartender gave me a look and I shrugged, hiking a thumb at the jerk who’d touched me. “He shoulda kept his hands to himself.”

  “Fair enough,” the bartender said.

  I nodded and turned to find Nix and Del. They’d grabbed our beers and were putting them on a table in the corner. I went to join them.

  We were a team. Sisters by choice, ever since we’d woken in a field at fifteen with no memories other than those that said we were FireSouls on the run from someone who had hurt us. Who was hunting us.

  Our biggest goal, even bigger than getting out from under our current boss’s thumb, was to save enough money to buy concealment charms that would hide us from the monster who hunted us. He was just a shadowy memory, but it was enough to keep us running.

  “Where is Clarence, anyway?” I pulled my damp tank top away from my sweaty skin. The jungle was damned hot. We couldn’t break into the temple until Clarence gave us the information we needed to get past the guard at the front. And we didn’t need to spend too much longer in this bar.

  Del glanced at her watch, her blue eyes flashing with annoyance. “He’s twenty minutes late. Old Man Bastard said he should be here at eight.”

  Old Man Bastard—OMB for short—was our boss. His name said it all. Del, Nix, and I were FireSouls, the most despised species of supernatural because we could steal other magical being’s powers if we killed them. We’d never done that, of course, but OMB didn’t care. He’d figured out our secret when we were too young to hide it effectively and had been blackmailing us to work for him ever since.

  It’d been four years of finding and stealing treasure on his behalf. Treasure hunting was our other talent, a gift from the dragon with whom legend said we shared a soul. No one had seen a dragon in centuries, so I wasn’t sure if the legend was even true, but dragons were covetous, so it made sense they had a knack for finding treasure.

  “What are we after again?” Nix asked.

  “A pair of obsidian daggers,” Del said. “Nice ones.”

  “And how much is this job worth?” Nix repeated my earlier question. Money was always on our minds. It was our only chance at buying our freedom, but OMB didn’t pay us enough for it to be feasible anytime soon. We kept meticulous track of our earnings and saved like misers anyway.

  “A thousand each.”

  “Damn, that’s pathetic.” I slouched back in my chair and stared up at the ceiling, too bummed about our crappy pay to even be impressed by the stonework and vines above my head.

  “Hey, pretty ladies.” The oily voice made my skin crawl. We just couldn’t get a break in here. I looked up to see Clarence, our contact.

  Clarence was a tall man, slender as a vine, and had the slicked back hair and pencil-thin mustache of a 1940s movie star. Unfortunately, it didn’t work on him. Probably because his stare was like a lizard’s. He was more Gomez Addams than Clark Gable. I’d bet anything that he liked working for OMB.

  “Hey, Clarence,” I said. “Pull up a seat and tell us how to get into the temple.”

  Clarence slid into a chair, his movement eerily snakelike. I shivered and scooted my chair away, bumping into Del. The scent of her magic flared, a clean hit of fresh laundry, as she no doubt suppressed her instinct to transport away from Clarence. If I had her gift of teleportation, I’d have to repress it as well.

  “How about a drink first?” Clarence said.

  Del growled, but Nix interjected, her voice almost nice. She had the most self control out of the three of us. “No can do, Clarence. You know… Mr. Oribis”—her voice tripped on the name, probably because she wanted to call him OMB—“wants the daggers soon. Maybe next time, though.”

  “Next time.” Clarence shook his head like he didn’t believe her. He might be a snake, but he was a clever one. His chest puffed up a bit. “You know I’m the only one who knows how to get into the temple. How to get into any of the places in this jungle.”

  “And we’re so grateful you’re meeting with us. Mr. Oribis is so grateful.” Nix dug into her pocket and pulled out the crumpled envelope that contained Clarence’s pay. We’d counted it and found—unsurprisingly—that it was more than ours combined, even though all he had to do was chat with us for two minutes. I’d wanted to scream when I’d seen it.

  Clarence’s gaze snapped to the money. “All right, all right.”

  Apparently his need to be flattered went out the window when cash was in front of his face. Couldn’t blame him, though. I was the same way.

  “So, what are we up against?” I asked.

  The temple containing the daggers had been built by supernaturals over a thousand years ago. Like other temples of its kind, it was magically protected. Clarence’s intel would save us a ton of time and damage to the temple if we could get around the enchantments rather than breaking through them.

  “Dvarapala. A big one.”

  “A gatekeeper?” I’d seen one of the giant, stone monster statues at another temple before.

  “Yep.” He nodded slowly. “Impossible to get through. The temple’s as big as the Titanic—hidden from humans, of course—but no one’s been inside in centuries, they say.”

  Hidden from humans was a given. They had no idea supernaturals existed, and we wanted to keep it that way.

  “So how’d you figure out the way in?” Del asked. “And why haven’t you gone in? Bet there’s lots of stuff you could fence in there. Temples are usually full of treasure.”

  “A bit of pertinent research told me how to get in. And I’d rather sell the entrance information and save my hide. It won’t be easy to get past the booby traps in there.”

  Hide? Snakeskin, more like. Though he had a point. I didn’t think he’d last long trying to get through a temple on his own.

  “So? Spill it,” I said, anxious to get going.

  He leaned in, and the overpowering scent of cologne and sweat hit me. I grimaced, held my breath, then leaned forward to hear his whispers.

  As soon as Clarence walked away, the communications charms around my neck vibrated. I jumped, then groaned. Only one person had access to this charm.

  I shoved the small package Clarence had given me into my short’s pocket and pressed my fingertips to the comms charm, igniting its magic.

  “Hello, Mr. Oribis.” I swallowed my bile at having to be polite.

  “Girls,” he grumbled.

  Nix made a gagging face. We hated when he called us girls.

  “Change of plans. You need to go to the temple tonight.”

  “What? But it’s dark. We’re going tomorrow.” He never changed the plans on us. This was weird.

  “I need the daggers sooner. Go tonight.”

  My mind raced. “The jungle is more dangerous in the dark. We’ll do it if you pay us more.”

  “Twice the usual,” Del said.

  A tinny laugh echoed from the charm. “Pay you more? You’re lucky I pay you at all.”

  I gritted my teeth and said, “But we’ve been working for you for four years without a raise.”

  “And you’ll be working for me for four more years. And four after that. And four after that.” Annoyance lurked in his tone. So did his low opinion of us.

  Del’s and Nix’s brows crinkled in distress. We’d always suspected that OMB wasn’t planning to let us buy our freedom, but he’d dangled that carrot in front of us. What he’d just said made that seem like a big f
at lie, though. One we could add to the many others he’d told us.

  An urge to rebel, to stand up to the bully who controlled our lives, seethed in my chest.

  “No,” I said. “You treat us like crap, and I’m sick of it. Pay us fairly.”

  “I treat you like crap, as you so eloquently put it, because that is exactly what you are. FireSouls.” He spit the last word, imbuing it with so much venom I thought it might poison me.

  I flinched, frantically glancing around to see if anyone in the bar had heard what he’d called us. Fortunately, they were all distracted. That didn’t stop my heart from thundering in my ears as rage replaced the fear. I opened my mouth to shout at him, but snapped it shut. I was too afraid of pissing him off.

  “Get it by dawn,” he barked. “Or I’m turning one of you in to the Order of the Magica. Prison will be the least of your worries. They might just execute you.”

  I gasped. “You wouldn’t.” Our government hunted and imprisoned—or destroyed—FireSouls.

  “Oh, I would. And I’d enjoy it. The three of you have been more trouble than you’re worth. You’re getting cocky, thinking you have a say in things like this. Get the daggers by dawn, or one of you ends up in the hands of the Order.”

  My skin chilled, and the floor felt like it had dropped out from under me. He was serious.

  “Fine.” I bit off the end of the word, barely keeping my voice from shaking. “We’ll do it tonight. Del will transport them to you as soon as we have them.”

  “Excellent.” Satisfaction rang in his tone, and my skin crawled. “Don’t disappoint me, or you know what will happen.”

  The magic in the charm died. He’d broken the connection.

  I collapsed back against the chair. In times like these, I wished I had it in me to kill. Sure, I offed demons when they came at me on our jobs, but that was easy because they didn’t actually die. Killing their earthly bodies just sent them back to their hell.

  But I couldn’t kill another supernatural. Not even OMB. It might get us out of this lifetime of servitude, but I didn’t have it in me. And what if I failed? I was too afraid of his rage—and the consequences—if I didn’t succeed.