Death's Kiss

by McKenzie Hunter

  “Think about the nature of the three objects stolen: at least we’d be discreet. It is doubtful the police would be, and then you would have pandemonium. How many people would be hunting for them? You’re looking at over seven figures’ worth of objects. Let’s say the police find them. How long will it take for them to get them back to their owners? And you know the summoning stone is going to be confiscated. Technically, they are illegal,” I offered.

  “There’s nothing technical about it; people really frown upon objects that can summon magic from other realms. You know the whole apocalypse-by-magic thing tends to make people a little nervous, and if the stone was owned by anyone other than Kieran I wouldn’t be comfortable returning it,” Cory said, frowning.

  Mephisto smiled. “Do I detect desire? Kieran or his magic?”

  “Neither. He just seems like someone who could be trusted with it,” I was quick to answer.

  “Yes, trust the man who used such an important and dangerous object as currency during a game,” Mephisto pointed out derisively.

  He was right. Was my interest in his magic—or even him—clouding my judgment? I shook it off. I needed to be open-minded and ready for anything, because there was definitely something to the story.

  “Do you think they wanted all the objects or just one and the rest were easy marks since they were all there?” Cory asked.

  That was a good question.

  CHAPTER 2

  Landon was very accommodating, which quickly put my suspicion about him to rest. He couldn’t use the summoning stone—he wasn’t able to perform magic. The moon ring was no good to him, either, and I was sure he was very unhappy that someone else had the Dracon dagger. There were very few people who could kill him. It had just become a lot easier with the dagger out there.

  He showed me around the spacious room where he’d hosted his guests. It was as nicely decorated as the rest of his home. A large wooden table sat in the center, and modern-style chairs were placed in the corners. A large sofa was a few feet from the table, and to the far right was a bar that stocked only top-shelf alcohol and wine that I had probably never been able to taste because of the cost. I scanned the room and decided that this hadn’t been a job of convenient circumstance. There were other things that could have been stolen. Landon had magical objects lying around. Some could be dangerous in the wrong hands. They might not be of any use to vampires, but if he entertained anyone who performed magic, they could be used.

  I perused his collection of items. Affixed to the walls were katanas. They weren’t magical, but the blades were made of iridium, a metal that prevented magical beings from using their magic. Want to stop a magic-wielder? Shove one of those in them. I supposed just being impaled by a sword would stop them, too.

  A calling stone, something necromancers used during their spells and was rumored to have the ability to compel vampires into compliance, was placed on a side table as decoration. It didn’t seem like something you’d just have displayed willy-nilly, but Landon was arrogant, nearly taunting someone to steal from him. If the rumors about him were correct, then the thief would regret it dearly.

  He was handling things well, too well. I decided then and there that once I found the objects I wasn’t going to give him the name of the person who’d taken them.

  As I continued to look at his many objects on display the lights blew out. A gust of putrid wind filled the room, and then fog so thick that I couldn’t see my hands in front of me. Moments later, the room was brightly lit, the air clear, and all of Landon’s valuables gone, including all the alcohol off his middle shelf.

  Landon glared at the empty shelves, the spots where swords had hung on the wall, and the bare tables. If he could have turned red, he probably would have. His eyes were fiery with anger. “Who the hell is doing this? I’m going to rip their arms off.”

  “No need to rip anyone’s arm off,” I feebly reassured him. But based on how quickly the person had gotten in and out of a vampire’s home with a ton of valuables, I wasn’t sure said vampire was going to be able to rip anything off of them. I inhaled the air. I could feel the magic—dark, fiery. My nose tingled from it. I took another whiff to see if I could identify it.

  “Will you call Alex here?” I asked.

  “Why do I need him? I have you.”

  “I’m not a shifter, my sense of smell isn’t nearly as keen as his. It would be a good idea to call Kieran as well.”

  * * *

  Alex walked around the room, visibly inhaling, and then he frowned. “Just like the last time, nothing. I just smell smoke. Everyone has a scent.” He scanned the area and his eyes went to a small mark on the floor, a partial footprint.

  “What do you all do with your phones when you play?” I asked.

  “They aren’t allowed,” Landon offered. “No devices are allowed.”

  I looked for my phone: it had been taken. “Do you have your phone with you?” I turned to Landon.

  He shook his head. At his age, he was probably used to a simpler time, so it might have been easy for him not to be attached to it. That wasn’t the case with me. The moment I realized mine was gone, I felt naked without it. I really needed to find the bastard responsible, now.

  “The person wasn’t that stealthy. They put a spell on you all, and what you thought was them moving at lightning speed was actually you not moving—stuck in that single moment in time. They changed the clocks, watches. My phone is thumbprint-protected; they took it so I wouldn’t have any idea how much time has passed,” I explained.

  Brilliant. Now I had to find out who had the ability to do that. It was exceptional, and I was sure it required as much skill as magic to perform. And they would need to transport, too. “You are dealing with more than one person. One probably transported the other one here. The person who froze time wouldn’t be able to do that and then cast the transporting spell and leave without needing to rest in between; magic like that exerts too much energy.”

  “How did you come up with that?” Alex asked, with a half-smile. It was the first time I’d seen his predatory alertness. His eyes were focused keenly on me, and I didn’t like it. I looked down at the hint of a footprint that had been modified. I used something similar on the bottom of my shoes during jobs.

  I glanced back down at the partial footprint again and his eyes followed. I didn’t offer any more information. “When I ….” Cutting my words off abruptly I decided it wasn’t a good idea to disclose how I retrieved things.

  He smirked, moved closer, the haunting glow of interest sparking in his eyes, and a brow rose. “When you what?” he asked, a hint of playfulness in his voice.

  “When I deliver toys to small children on the twenty-fourth of December,” I said, then directed my attention to Landon, who didn’t seem concerned by the specifics, just interested in getting his things back.

  “I have to go. I’ll call—” Dammit, I need a phone. “Once I have another phone, I’ll call you.”

  Alex walked out with me.

  “Do you need any help?” he asked as he headed toward a black, sleek, expensive-looking sports car. I hadn’t seen one like it before, which probably meant he wasn’t hurting for money. Owning a moon ring was additional evidence of his financial solvency, and if he’d been invited to play with Landon, he obviously had enough money to lose it frivolously. I figured Mephisto had probably charged a lot more than he’d offered me.

  I didn’t have time to dwell on my pay rate; I had thieves to find, ones who had better resources than Mephisto had, which made them infinitely better. I was very interested in the magic. I really hoped that when I found the magic-wielding crooks, I could resist trying their magic for myself.

  Cory and I walked slowly through the alleyway, looking at his phone as we attempted to track mine. The little dot flickered, alerting me to the location of my phone and possibly that of the thief who took it. “It has to be a witch,” Cory said after several moments of deliberation. As a witch himself, he had to be reluctant to acc
use one. He felt witches were always the first ones people considered when strong magic was performed.

  “It could be a mage,” I put in. It was a consolatory offering and lacked the conviction to really be a viable option.

  “Name one mage that can do a spell that powerful.”

  “I can’t think of one,” I panted out as we started to run toward the location of the phone. All I saw was the back of a hoodie as someone turned around the corner. We were at a full run by the time we got to the end of the alley. I lunged at the figure, my arm outstretched. If I couldn’t grab the thief at least I would be able to see the person’s face, hair, or something distinguishing. I didn’t get anything more than a flash of skin from the hand that flicked back in my direction. Just a little magical shove to get some distance, then the phone thief vanished. Cory was a couple of feet away—solid and slow, disadvantages of his physique. From what I’d seen, getting hit by him would surely knock you out. But if you could run fast, you were likely to avoid that fate.

  “Still think it might be a mage?” he questioned, in his mocking I-told-you-so voice.

  “We are looking for a witch or witches.” But something was gnawing at me about everyone smelling smoke. Smoke tended to cover most other smells. An elemental mage could control it without setting the whole place aflame.

  CHAPTER 3

  Madison found me in the corner, seated in the comfortable leather chair, just seconds after she walked in. She always kept her tightly waved hair cut short, drawing attention to her features. Deep copper-colored skin made her seem like she always had a gentle glow. Her button nose softened her features too much to be considered sexy. To most her cool disposition was off-putting. She wasn’t mean, as the resting scowl she wore often made her appear. Her job on the supernatural task force didn’t afford her the option of seeming weak. One glare from her, and you knew she meant business. I was rarely on the receiving end of that glare except for the time she’d found me over a body. I had called her first, even before my mother, who had been cleaning up my messes far too long. At twenty-five, I’d needed to start doing it myself. But calling Madison hadn’t been any better than relying on my mother to clean up. Instead of her doing it, her best friend’s daughter had been.

  That night there hadn’t been anything Madison could have done but arrest me. Her connections and favors had left her depleted and owing far too many people but had kept me out of jail and had me sent to an institution for misbehaving supernaturals. Supernaturals who were deemed not quite right. Eventually you were given the stamp of approval and allowed to go home and live your life as normally as you could with a charge on your record and a stint in an institution.

  I shrugged off the memories. I was out and about. I was gainfully employed or at least employed, and I sort of, kind of, stayed on the right side of the law. Or rather, no one could prove that I wasn’t. The therapist hadn’t wanted to release me, had said I’d been tested and found to have an “antisocial personality disorder.” In layman’s terms, most would consider me a sociopath. A death mage that might be a sociopath wasn’t an award-winning discovery. Finding one who wasn’t sociopathic would probably be harder. When magic could only be gained by death, toeing that line between acceptable and unacceptable behavior was hard. I knew killing was wrong; I wasn’t a monster, but I had a hard time fighting my desires to possess it. Life didn’t seem so important when I had the potential to gain magic. It should be—I knew that. I wasn’t a monster. Just weak.

  “How have you been doing, Erin?” she asked. Her voice always held a hint of apprehension and sympathy. Madison was a nature fae, drawing her power from the earth. Things must have been a lot easier when you could get it from a tree, flower, or crap like that. No one was going to look at you oddly when you killed a cactus or a flowering tree.

  “Fine. I’m doing well, thanks.” It was difficult holding her gaze, which always softened when she dealt with me. I wasn’t sure if she was working her fae mojo on me; if so, it was subtle. What was it about her eyes, intense and entreating, that made me want to confess all my sins and wait for her to absolve me?

  She frowned. “You missed your last appointment with Dr. Sumner.”

  “It was just one fucking appointment.” I didn’t know why it made my irritation flare, but it did. I had this. I had control. I was doing well, but he always made me feel like I was just one thin tendril from being out of control. It wasn’t fair that he was my counselor. He was human. He had no idea what it felt like—no one did, but humans were especially clueless. He always remained professionally stoic, but the mask sometimes dropped and I could see his disdain.

  The six-year difference in Madison’s and my ages made her more of an older sister than my mother’s best friend’s daughter. Since both of us were only children, we’d become like siblings. Except I was the screwup little sister that she had to keep out of trouble.

  “I’m sorry,” I said softly. I dropped my eyes to my hand and studied my cup. “I meditate every day, sometimes twice a day. Exercising helps, and I have a donor.”

  She sucked in a sharp breath. “You know I don’t approve of the donor stuff. I think you should just never use magic.”

  “We’re supposed to use magic. Like you, we have to. It’s in us.”

  “Life isn’t fair, Erin. It sucks that you can only use your magic when someone dies. It’s a fucked-up gift to have. I don’t see the purpose.”

  “I can use magic without killing people, you know.” I hated that I sounded like nothing more than a petulant child. I put more assertion in my voice and made it drop low, deeper. I wouldn’t be reduced to the screwup sister begging for a chance to prove herself. “Sometimes I need magic for work. Not only can I adopt the donor’s magic, I can mimic other types of magic, too. Once I shapeshifted.” I didn’t tell her I had no freaking idea how I’d done it and probably couldn’t do it again.

  She didn’t seem convinced that I needed magic to do my job and was unimpressed by me shapeshifting. Madison simply responded with a wry smile.

  “It’s Cory. You know I wouldn’t do anything to hurt him,” I offered.

  “I know,” she responded in a quiet voice before taking a sip of her coffee. “You have this, I know.” Her words lacked confidence and regardless of whether she said it or thought it, for just a few seconds her face displayed her concern over having to clean things up again. This time it might not be with a neat little bow.

  “Did you just want to grab coffee or did you need something?”

  I tried to smile. It didn’t work; I could only offer her a slight lift of my lips. “Both. Landon was robbed. Rather, Landon, Alex, and Kieran were robbed.”

  She made a face. “That’s a strange combination. Especially Alex and Landon—shifters and vamps don’t play nice together. What were they doing together?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Trying to see whose knob is the biggest, but instead of whipping out their penises they kept them tucked away and displayed their most priceless magical objects.”

  “What was stolen?”

  I told her and the frown fixed on her face. “When was this?”

  “Yesterday. Mephisto—”

  “Erin!” she snapped. Her light brown eyes narrowed until they were small slits.

  “I don’t work for him. I subcontract a few times a year.”

  Again, I was treated to the my-screwup-sister look. “He’s dangerous.”

  “He’s just rumored to be, and honestly, I think he started the rumors. He’s just a mage.”

  She scoffed. “He told you he was a mage and you believed him? Mephisto, or Mephistopheles as he sometimes goes by, was a servant of the devil. At best, he’s a demon.”

  “Prove it. I don’t think he’s that bad.” I wasn’t totally convinced of that, but I didn’t want her to worry about me. “I think he enjoys the reputation of being the big bad.” I ignored the slanted look she gave me. “Have there been any weird robberies lately?”

  “Not that I can think of. The Mo
ors coven reported a chalice going missing. It’s not magical, just a family heirloom.” Then she listed several other burglaries, but I was only concerned with the ones that were done in plain sight because that was my culprit’s MO.

  She finished her coffee, stood, and gave me a quick peck on the cheek. “Go see Dr. Sumner. I rescheduled your appointment to ten tomorrow.” She gave me another quick kiss, and before I could object she was heading out of the door.

  I stood in front of the office building, staring at Dr. Sumner’s door. My appointment was at ten; I looked at my watch. I had five minutes before I was late. I reached for the door and stopped, still needing a few more minutes.

  “Erin.” I looked and turned to the right: Mephisto was getting out of his car. He wasn’t in black; instead, he’d traded it for midnight blue. His tie had woven dark patterns, and his shirt was just a shade or two lighter than his suit.

  He looked at the building and then back at me. His brows rose but he was too polite to say anything, so I didn’t answer.

  “You have business in this area?” I asked.

  He nodded. “It seems that someone has been very busy claiming items that aren’t theirs.” His tone was rough, agitated. Perhaps he thought he would be next. The thief did seem to have a type: supernaturals who prided themselves on collecting valuable magical objects.

  “What was taken?”

  “I’m not sure. I’ll have more information when I meet with them.”

  I glanced at my watch. I had to go, but I hesitated. If I had to choose, I would rather continue to talk to Mephisto than to Dr. Sumner. But I didn’t have that choice.

  Our session went as it always did, me looking at him for the first ten minutes as he waited for the metaphorical dam to break and me to reveal all my feelings to him. It had been over two years and he was still waiting on it. He pushed his glasses up his nose, crossed his right leg over his left thigh, and looked up after he’d finished perusing his notes.