by Grace,Viola
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Epilogue
Author’s Note
About the Author
A mage, a destiny and a surprising pedigree. It is hard to juggle new discoveries with a dragon on her tail.
Minerva enjoys her life as a master mage. She creates spells that no one has seen before and enjoys her family and friends. She will do anything for them, and she has.
Her side job is to act as an intermediary between extranatural races, and that is what she is doing the day that she walks into the dragon’s den. Running from the dragon makes her confront her origins, and things get even more complicated from there.
Zemuel is an ancient being that owns lands and mines that contain strategic materials for other races. All he asks for an audience is that he be entertained by the envoy. Minerva has her work cut out for her. She really should have stuck to business only.
So, mate-hungry dragons, ancient gods and a surprising pedigree mean that Minerva’s world just turned upside-down, and anchoring herself will mean surrendering a piece of her soul.
The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
Binding Magic
Copyright © 2016 by Viola Grace
ISBN: 978-1-987969-24-5
©Cover art by Carmen Waters
All rights reserved. With the exception of review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the express permission of the publisher.
Published by Viola Grace
Look for me online at violagrace.com, Amazon, All Romance Ebooks, Smashwords, Kobo, B&N and other eBook sellers.
Binding Magic
An Obscure Magic Book 7
By
Viola Grace
Chapter One
Minerva tidied up the dishes and heard her mother come through the door. She called out, “How was worship?”
Deirdre came in and smiled slightly. “Eventful.” Her mother shook out her robes and took a seat at the table.
“Cup of tea?”
“Cabernet.”
Minerva winced. “Right.”
She poured two glasses and set them down at the kitchen table, sitting with her mother in silence.
Deirdre was a devoted follower of Hecate. It was a little peculiar, as she didn’t have any magic of her own, but Minerva had been raised not to mock anyone’s faith.
When the glass of wine was nearly drained, her mother looked at her with helpless eyes. “I have been ordered to tell you where you came from.”
Minerva blinked. “You adopted me.”
“I did, but you weren’t a foundling. Now, I know that you looked into your origins when you turned eighteen, but the files weren’t precisely accurate.”
Minerva hesitated. “What was wrong about my being found in the baby drop?”
Her mother cleared her throat. “It was part of a plan to get you into the official channels. Your birth was not strictly normal.”
“Mom, why are you telling me this?” Minerva gripped her mother’s hand.
“Because they want to talk to you. They need you to know what you are, so you will accept what they are.”
Minerva was suddenly unnerved. “Who are they?”
“First, I need to tell you the story. After that, you can examine the documents and I will make the arrangements.”
Minerva held up her hand. “Wait. I want to go to Benny’s wedding tomorrow with a clear head. Can we wait for the big reveal until after that?”
“Yes. But they aren’t going to wait long.” Her mom smiled weakly.
“It will be the day after tomorrow or possibly tomorrow night if you are awake when I come home. We will get everything out in the open then.”
Minerva came around to her mother’s side. She gave her a hug. “I love you no matter what you tell me.”
Deirdre smiled weakly. “My little amazon.”
“You betcha. Now, get some rest, and I will see you after the wedding.”
She smiled and stroked Minerva’s cheek. “How did I get so lucky?”
Minerva chuckled. “Like you always said, you prayed for me. Night, Mom.”
“Give Benny and her guys my best.”
“Of course. I always will.”
Minerva finished her wine in one long gulp and washed the glass before she headed to her room.
The house was the one she had grown up in. Her mother had it built when she was a toddler, and it had included space for a small greenhouse and drying house. Minerva had a small lab in a shed, and inside the house, she had a serviceable magical library. The more complicated stuff wasn’t in her home. She went to the Gangers’ when she needed a specific or dangerous book.
The ward around her room flared as she entered it. Her life as a mage meant that occasionally she was hunted by those who wanted to use her, so it was her responsibility to keep herself and her mother safe from incursion.
If her mother had a secret to tell about her origin, home was the safest place to tell it. That night, Minerva was going to try and get some sleep. The next day was Benny’s wedding, and she needed to be bright eyed and bushy tailed for the ceremony.
Minerva held a bouquet of magical flowers. They glowed with energy and had a dizzying scent.
Benny was linked and wedded to her three partners, and Minerva had never seen her happier. Freddy was nearby, and she looked to be gearing into flirting mode for the reception.
Minerva was the dutiful bridesmaid until she was alone after the main part of the reception. Folks were dancing and Ronathon, the goblin king, slid toward her. “Madam Mage, I was wishing to speak with you.”
She looked into the moss-green eyes surrounded by swamp-green skin. “Yes, your highness?”
“There is a change of plans. We need you to go tomorrow.”
Minerva blinked. “What? It was supposed to be next week.”
Ronathon cleared his throat. “He changed the date of his audience. All of the others are scrambling to prepare their representatives.”
She groaned. “I am going to have to take a portal. I wanted to take a plane.”
Ronathon pulled at one of his pointed ears. “We will pay extra; we need that treaty and we need those stones. We have six months until our old defenses collapse, and it takes five to extract the stones. We don’t have time to lose.”
Minerva groaned. “This sucks.”
“Zemuel is not inclined to throw more than one petition evening in a year. This is our last chance.”
She pinched the bridge of her nose. “Fine. I will go. I will contact you in two days for my payment.”
Ronathon blinked. “I will be there.”
She wanted to hiss. “Yes, but don’t stand too near me. Dragons can sense goblins, and they don’t generally like your scent unless they are hungry. This is why you contacted me in the first place.”
Years dealing with the Gangers and attending parties at their home had prepared her to work with non-humans, and Lenora and Emile regularly recommended her to their friends for intervention between the races. Taking on the goblins’ need for territorial markers that would defend them agains
t magical attack and wildlife intervention were a necessity.
Minerva looked around at those remaining at the party and sighed. For her, the evening was over.
Minerva found a corner to brood in, and Lenora came over to her.
“What is wrong, pet?”
“My mom and I need to talk, but the goblins need to move their meeting up. I am going to have to go out of town for a few days.”
“She will understand.”
Minerva chuckled. “It isn’t that. She is going to tell me something that I didn’t know, and we need to be together for that to happen. It has the hallmarks of one of those heavy moments in life, you know?”
Lenora looked over to Benny and nodded. “I know that feeling very well.”
Benny was glowing and dancing with her mates.
Minerva could see the mingling of energies in the quartet, and the balance that was being struck would take a while to settle. Her initial binding magic was powering the union, and she felt a flicker of pride as she watched them move and dance around each other.
Lenora touched her arm. “You can come to us if you need anything, Minerva. You are family.”
“Thanks, Lenora. It is appreciated.”
“Well, now. Why don’t you join the party again? Emile is looking for a dance partner and my feet are aching.”
Min grinned. “That is because he usually has you off them.”
“He is a demon in the sack.”
Laughing, Minerva went in search of the incubus at the wedding. She owed him a dance.
Emile took her into his arms and swept her into a waltz with only a smile and the whisper, “When will it be your turn?”
Minerva shook her head. “I am not looking for a match or three of them. I am content to go through life as I have been, being useful and studying.”
“Has the Mage Guild been after you?”
She chuckled. “No, they have barked up that tree so often that I have started turning the hose on them. I am not interested in wearing a uniform for the state.”
“Fair enough. Your studies are coming along. You have a knack for spell creation that I have never seen before.”
Minerva smiled at the compliment. “Thank you. I like it, though I have to remember to take notes as I go. It is like making a recipe that I have made a dozen times. When it is done, I just enjoy the result.”
His smile in his green-scaled face was charming as it always was. If she hadn’t created a dampening spell when she was a teen, she would have been obsessed with him. As it was, he was the father of her friend and the husband of her instructor. He was simply elegant, charming and very powerful.
They finished their dance, and she was spun away in the arms of another guest, so she continued the rounds, as did Freddy. It was their job as bridesmaids, even if it wasn’t a normal wedding.
Ritual had to be upheld.
Chapter Two
Her mother was asleep when Minerva got home, so she left her a note and headed to her room to pack.
The goblins had chosen her because she met Zemuel’s preferences. She was tall, curvy and powerful. He was more likely to grant her an audience than the goblins who had hired her.
Dawn was breaking and it was time for her to get going. She placed a few kisses and hugs around the house to surprise her mother and picked up her carryon. She sent a text to Zemuel’s party planner, warning him of her arrival, and she got in her car.
The drive to the transport hub was short, and there wasn’t any traffic yet.
This was one time she really wanted a delay.
The arrangement for the transport took fifteen minutes, and she was sent across the continent in a matter of seconds.
Minerva stumbled as she left the platform. Having someone else transport her always felt weird, and having it happen three times in two days definitely threw her off balance.
She got clear of the incoming traffic and took out her phone, trying to scroll to the address so she could give it to the cab driver.
“Minerva Rogati?” A man walked up to her with a smile.
“Yes.” She lowered her phone and looked at the gargoyle who was approaching her. He was either an accountant or a lawyer, but he was definitely a gargoyle, and she hadn’t even seen one without a suit.
“I am Norman. I am here to take you to the manor.”
Norman was the name of Zemuel’s assistant on her correspondence.
She frowned. “I wasn’t expecting you.”
“Zemuel has been following some of your work; he wishes for you to have time to refresh and then join him for lunch if you are able.” He reached out and took her bag from her. “Come with me, please.”
She groaned and followed him out of the transport office and to the long silvery vehicle. A driver took her bag, and Norman held the door open for her.
She entered, and he closed the door behind her, walked around the vehicle and entered from the street side.
The driver tucked him in, and a moment later, they were off, cruising through the mountain paths, moving steadily upward.
She pinched the bridge of her nose. “How rude would it be if I begged off the lunch?”
Norman was surprised. “Do you have any reason for it?”
“I just found out about this change yesterday, at one of my oldest friend’s weddings. I have not yet been to sleep, and as I understand, the audience petition lasts into the wee hours; I need sleep.”
Norman chuckled. “Understandable. Of course. I will notify him, and he will not hold it against you, I am sure.”
She sighed. “This is not turning into my day.”
Norman patted her hand. “It will be fine. He is not vindictive.”
Minerva laughed. “That is not what I have heard.”
Norman smiled, and their vehicle continued to twist its way into the mountainside.
The dragon’s manor was a lair built into the side of a cliff face like the ancient city of Petra.
She could see the smoothly carved pillars of stone as they approached. When the vehicle stopped, the driver opened Norman’s door, and he came around to open hers.
Her bag was whisked away from her and into the elegant cavern in the cliff.
Norman took her hand and helped her out of the transport, leading her into the structure that had been crafted out of the local stone.
The interior had the ambience of a hotel without the front desk. Couches, low tables and bars were around the huge entry chamber.
Norman spoke softly. “Sound echoes here, so this is the chamber of communication.”
Minerva looked around casually and saw a few familiar faces and several unfamiliar species. Everyone was milling around with their gazes on a nondescript door connected to a long tower.
“I am guessing that it rises to his personal quarters?”
Norman nodded. “He uses it only when he has guests.”
To answer her next question, the door opened silently, and a dishevelled blond elf stumbled out and into the arms of her people. She gave them a nod, and the men grinned, congratulating themselves. Sex for favours was not concealed in the extranatural community.
Minerva looked the woman over and determined that the favour she had offered was a blowjob. There was redness around her lips and her legs were firmly together, so penetration had not occurred. It was a good thing to note. She wasn’t offering Zemuel her body, but knowing what he was likely to ask for was a bit of information that would change how she interacted with him.
If Zemuel were ruled by a sexual urge, it would make her method of negotiating a little more overt.
“Mage, please come this way.” Norman looked a little flustered.
She grinned. Gargoyles had a prudish streak that popped up now and then. Apparently, Norman was in that particular mood.
A second, more ornate, elevator took her upward, and she swayed. She was nearing the edge of exhaustion. Either she could cast a spell for energy that would
knock her out for a few days when it had run its course, or she could take a nap. Minerva was voting for nap.
“Mr. Norman? What is the local time?”
“Oh, it is nine in the morning. The cocktails will begin at seven in the evening, and he will take up his throne at eight. After that, he will select those allowed to try and win a petition for three hours. Then, he hears the petitions and everyone is dismissed immediately after, somewhere around four in the morning.”
The elevator chimed, and the door opened on her floor. Well, it was also her room. The elevator opened into the guest suite.
Norman escorted her inside, his wings folded against his back. “All amenities are here; you have a balcony, a fireplace if you want it. The tub is filled in under a minute, and there is a robe for you. Your bag has been unpacked, and if you like, we will give you a call before the cocktails begin.”
She glanced at him. “Do the goblins have a similar suite?”
He chuckled. “They are not allowed to remain on the premises. If they can make it here before the cocktail hour, they will be allowed in. At the stroke of seven, the doors are locked for new entries.”
She checked her phone. “There’s no signal.”
“No, he has never seen the need for one, so we don’t have a tower. Your connectivity will resume the moment that you leave the mountains.” Norman paused. “Do you have any other questions?”
“I would like a wakeup call at six if that isn’t too much trouble.”
“Of course. I will have it registered. Enjoy your stay and your rest.”
She nodded. “Thank you. See you later.”
Norman returned to the elevator, and she was alone.
The remote for the drapes had instructions attached, and she closed them, revelling in the dark cocoon that was created.
She stripped and crawled into the bed, her clothing draped over the foot. She set her alarm for eight hours and placed it next to her head.
It said a lot about her life that she simply dropped into sleep without another thought.
