by Linsey Hall
To me? That was nuts. But the pull was there, that familiar sense of being dragged toward something I wanted.
But I did not want him. The idea that part of me wanted something my brain didn’t agree with was no good.
I’d only felt power that strong once, from the memory of the man we’d run from. And everything about his magic had been dark. It’d smelled and tasted like rot and felt like being stabbed with a thin knife. It wasn’t like this guy’s magic. But power that strong made me nervous. His magic alone was dangerous. If I used mine around him, he was strong enough to sense it. He might even figure out what I was.
“Care to explain what you’re doing lurking outside my door?” I asked, keeping my knives at the ready.
How’d he get past the locked door downstairs?
“Waiting for you,” he said. He had a Scottish accent and his voice had a hint of gravel to it, but in a pleasant way. A sexy way, but I didn’t want to explore that until I was sure he wasn’t here to kill me. Combined with the chiseled planes of his face and his athletic physique, he was the complete package.
He looked like a super model, but not quite the pretty kind. The kind that was a bit rough around the edges, with strong hands and chiseled features. He could model designer flannel as easily as suits. His dark hair and eyes would look amazing with either, but it was his lips that I had to drag my stupid gaze from.
He towered over my five-foot-seven-inch height. Six three, at least, I mused, sizing him up for a potential showdown. If it came down to it, I’d have to run. Between his magic and his strength, I wouldn’t stand a chance.
“How’d you get in?” I asked, deciding to play nice and hoping this didn’t go south. Perhaps he had a legit reason to be here, but the pessimist inside me said otherwise.
“You shouldn’t leave your door unlocked.”
“It wasn’t.”
“Then I got lucky.”
“And by luck, you mean magic.”
He shrugged one big shoulder and nodded.
“But you didn’t use it to get into my place?” I asked. I tried to calm my racing heart, hoping his shifter senses couldn’t pick it up. I didn’t think he’d be able to find my troves even if he had gotten in—they were well hidden behind false walls—but I didn’t like the possibility.
The corner of his mouth hiked up in a devastating smile. “That’d be just rude.”
An exasperated puff of air escaped me. I shouldn’t have been thinking about how hot or funny this guy was…but I couldn’t help it. “Yeah, totally. This little bit of B&E”—I pointed to the stairs—“is totally cool.”
He grinned again, looking too charming and sexy for my own good. This guy was killing me. “You’re the expert, given your line of work.”
“What do you know about me? And who are you?”
“I know you’re Cassiopeia Clereaux, the best treasure hunter in Magic’s Bend.”
“Cass,” I said. Only Del and Nix could call me Cassiopeia. I chose Cleraux, my last name, because it sounded good with Cass. It wasn’t Irish, but I couldn’t remember if I liked my life back there. “Why don’t you tell me who you are?”
“Aidan Merrick.”
“Oh hell,” I breathed. I’d thought his power felt strange. “The Origin.”
“That name’s a bit much, don’t you think?”
“Is it true? Can you shift into anything?” I didn’t know much about shifter lore, but according to rumor, the Origin was the descendent of the original alpha. The first shifter—a griffon or a dragon, depending on who you talk to. There was one born every generation, and he or she had the power to shift into any animal at will.
“You’d have to get to know me better to find out. That’s not really first date information.”
My heart fluttered. “This isn’t a date.”
“It could be.”
“I thought you were here about a job.”
“I am. But then I saw you. I’d like to add on a date.”
“No.” I’d only ever heard of Aidan Merrick, never seen him in person. I knew he had a place in Magic’s Bend, but the tabloids said he had a house on every continent. Now that I looked at him, he did seem a bit familiar. I only skimmed the tabloids when waiting at the grocery store. Now, I wished I had a few subscriptions. He was even more dangerous than I’d first thought.
“That’s final, then?” he asked.
“Final?”
“About the date.”
“Yeah.”
He shrugged, a surprisingly elegant motion for such a big guy. “I’ll ask again later. Maybe you’ll change your mind if you get to know me.”
“Uh…” I had no idea what to say. Hot, powerful millionaires didn’t normally ask me out. That wasn’t really my thing. “Why are you here again?”
“Two reasons. One, I want to know why you robbed a tomb on my property in Ireland. And two, I want to hire you.”
No joke, my jaw almost dropped. I kept it closed through force of will alone. He owned the property that contained the tomb I’d just robbed? Had he seen the broken warrior goddess column? Double damn.
“Most landowners don’t notice when I borrow something.”
“I’m not most. And…borrow?”
No, he certainly wasn’t most.
“I’m returning the chalice tomorrow,” I said, moving up my timeline and hoping he wouldn’t wonder about the enchantment that’d been removed from it. “And how did you know I’d taken it?”
“A guess.”
Shit. So I’d given myself away. “How? That tomb was completely untouched when I found it. The entrance was hidden in a cliff face. No one has been there in millennia.”
“I knew it was there, I just haven’t entered it. It’s an ancient holy place. I like to leave things as I find them. Unlike some people.”
Guilt stabbed me over the warrior goddess.
“I’m fixing her tomorrow when I return the chalice”—I still had to find someone with the magic to actually help me do that—“but how’d you even know I was there? Or that it was me?”
“After I felt the magic that destroyed the warrior column, I went down there. Most of the enchantments were deactivated, but I knew only the best treasure hunter could get past them. That’s you.”
“Were they your enchantments? Was the demon your guard?” I knew he’d said he’d never been in there, but I couldn’t keep myself from asking.
“Demon?”
The surprise on his face looked genuine.
My shoulders relaxed slightly. It felt like he was telling the truth, though I wasn’t one hundred percent sure. It still scared the crap out of me that he might know what the demon had known. I was dead if he knew my secret, and so were Del and Nix.
“There was a demon guarding the tomb. I sent it back to its hell,” I said.
“That’s strange. I’ve never sensed a demon there before.”
“Well he was there. It was common for the ancients to hire them to guard tombs, since they don’t die like normal supernaturals do. And I’m returning the chalice, so no harm, no foul.”
His head cocked to the side. “Is that how it works? Because I don’t think so. If you do a job for me, however, we’ll consider it even.”
I chewed on my lip. “What kind of job?”
“Can we go in and talk about this?” He looked around the tiny landing, and I realized that I was still standing on the stairs below him.
“Uh, no,” I blurted, then winced. I really didn’t want him in my place. It wasn’t fit for visitors. It was never fit for visitors.
“Then let’s go for a drink somewhere and I’ll explain.”
Under normal circumstances, I might have considered it. But nothing about our encounter had been normal. And what he might know still freaked me out. I didn’t think he knew what the demon had known—that was an old demon. Though Aidan was the Origin, he wasn’t old, maybe late twenties.
“Just give me an idea of what the job is.”
“I’m look
ing for the Scroll of Truth.”
Recognition slammed into me and my heart raced, but I had no idea why. I’d never heard that name before, not that I remembered.
But then, my brain still started to melt when I tried to remember the first fifteen years of my life. Or at least, that was what it felt like. But that name sounded so familiar. I strained, trying to pull any details out of my mind that I could. Anything. Why did it sound so familiar?
Piercing pain shot through my head. I retreated.
“What is it?” I asked, trying to play it cool, act like I didn’t really care.
“A compendium of knowledge about the strongest Magica and shifters.”
Oh hell. I could see why he would want something like that. He was one of the most powerful magical beings out there. Powerful beings didn’t like their secrets exposed, not if they could help it.
Problem was, I was also a powerful being, even if I didn’t use that power.
I needed to think about this, but I couldn’t focus around him. His power, and face, and body—the whole package—distracted me.
“Okay, I’ll have a drink with you. So we can talk about this. But let me shower first.” More than getting clean, I needed a second to myself. “There’s a place a few doors down the street, a bar called The Flying Wizard. Why don’t you meet me there?”
I’d have preferred to go to Potions & Pastilles where I could at least get something to eat, but I didn’t want him around Nix, or my two friends who ran P & P, Connor and Claire.
He nodded. “Fair enough. I’ll see you there.”
His body almost brushed mine as he passed. I held my breath, swearing that the air between us actually sparked, then let myself into my apartment. I leaned against the door and let my head drop back against the wood.
Holy cow, it was a lot to absorb. I sucked in some calming breaths, but the sight of my boring little apartment did nothing to put me at ease.
I pushed off the door and crossed the living room to my bedroom, where I pressed my hand against an empty spot along the back wall. I bounced on my heels as I waited for the spell to ignite. It took only a second, but soon a door appeared. I pushed it open and entered my trove.
Calm immediately enveloped me. My heart slowed and my mind cleared as I looked around at the neat shelves full of weapons, boots, and leather jackets.
Treasure meant different things to different people. Right now, to me, it meant those three things. When I woke in that field with Nix and Del ten years ago, treasure was food and shelter. We followed our senses toward what we wanted most. It was how we survived, though it wasn’t easy.
While a huge part of me didn’t want to believe that I was a FireSoul, I had a hidden lair in my house that was filled with treasure. I lived on the whole top floor of an old factory, easily four thousand square feet. My apartment took up about a tenth of that. My trove took up the rest.
Like Smaug crouching on his piles of gold, I hoarded my valuables. Del and Nix had their own troves. We knew it was kinda weird and very dragon-like, but we couldn’t help ourselves. I was perpetually broke because of my compulsion to fill this place up. I didn’t like to steal anymore, not if I could help it.
Though I’d have loved to hang out there longer, I didn’t have time to spend siphoning calm from this place. I grabbed a leather jacket off a hanger to replace the one I was wearing. I stank like a campfire. A quick glance at my boots showed they were in fine condition, so I returned to my bedroom and sealed the door behind me.
Though I felt a little better, a shower would really put me back on track.
I tossed the jacket on the bed and headed to the bathroom. My bathroom was as tiny and cramped as the stairwell. Every fixture was about sixty years old. Basically, it was a nightmare. I should have renovated it, but like I said—perpetually broke from feeding the beast.
On autopilot, I showered and dressed. My actual closet was pretty small since I preferred to stick to my uniform of jeans and tees. Carefully, I strapped my dagger sheaths to my thighs. They were hidden by an enchantment when I was around humans.
Why did Aidan want my help specifically? I was a good treasure hunter, the best in the city. Was it just because I’d successfully made it past the enchantments in his tomb? I didn’t think he knew what the demon had said about me, but there was no guarantee.
His power set my internal alarms blaring. A huge part of me said that helping him was too dangerous. I needed to stay away from him, avoid allowing him to sense what I was. But the lure of the scroll was too much to resist. It could possess information about what I was. About why I’d awoken in a field at fifteen with no memories.
I really wanted those memories back. And even if it couldn’t help me get my memories back, I owed him. I’d broken in to the ancient temple on his land.
So, my decision to help him had nothing do to with the fact that I couldn’t stop thinking about his lips. No way.
“Idiot,” I muttered as I tugged my jacket on. This one was a slightly darker brown leather than my other, closely fitted to look good but loose enough that I could fight in it. I might have worn any old tees and jeans, but my boots and my jackets were important. I’d been eyeing this one online for months before I had the money for it. I just hoped it lasted longer than the other.
I locked up behind me and headed down the stairs, trying not to think of how it had felt when Aidan had almost brushed up against me. I had real problems to worry about, and that wasn’t going to be one of them.
Night had fallen by the time I got outside. The evening birds had been replaced with crickets, and the lamps in the park across the street now threw their yellow glow over the asphalt. Ancient Magic was quiet and dark as I passed it, and my stomach grumbled as I glanced longingly into Potions & Pastilles, which was next door.
My friends Connor and Claire—siblings—ran Potions & Pastilles. I spent a lot of my time there when I wasn’t on a job, drinking coffee and shopping on the internet for my three weaknesses. During the day, P & P was a coffee house with a wide variety of sweets. At night, it turned into a bar that served a small selection of beers and a large selection of whiskey. Very hipster Oregon, but I liked it. There was always food, and it was always good.
Inside, dangling mason jar lights glinted warmly off the small, round, wooden tables, and original—though of questionable quality—artwork hung on the wall. Connor was behind the small bar, and I assumed Claire was in the kitchen. Nix sat talking to a man, a smile stretched across her face.
She hadn’t mentioned that she had a date. He was pretty hot from the back—tall, broad shouldered, dark haired. Go Nix. When he turned to look at the wall, I caught sight of his profile.
Aidan.
Annoyance seethed through me. I’d told him to meet me at The Flying Wizard for this exact freaking reason. And I couldn’t even storm in there and yell at him, because that might make him suspicious.
Inside, Nix laughed at something Aidan said. Connor laughed too, a goofy smile on his face. My friends liked him. The five of us—Nix, Del, Connor, Claire, and I—were all pretty close. My friends weren’t dumb. If they were giving him the stamp of approval, I had to take that into account.
I sighed and pushed into P & P. The smell of buttery pastry and savory meat from the oven enveloped me, and my stomach grumbled. The kitchen at P & P was small—it was really more of a bar and coffee house than a restaurant. Claire and Connor were from Cornwall, home of the Cornish Pasty, a good thing to sell out of a small space. I was pretty much addicted to them.
“Hey,” I said when I reached their table, trying to stifle the sound of annoyance in my voice. “This isn’t The Flying Wizard.”
Aidan turned his too-handsome face toward me. I repressed a scowl at the desire that streaked through me.
“They didn’t have food,” he said. “I thought you’d be hungry after your raid.”
Nix shot me a how-the-heck-do-you-know-this-guy look.
Later, I tried to say without words.
&
nbsp; “I ordered you two steak and stiltons,” he said.
At his words, Claire came out of the back with a plate carrying two golden brown pasties. My stomach grumbled as the divine scent wrapped around me. I tried to ignore how cool it was that he’d thought of feeding me. If there was one thing I was into, it was guys getting me food. Anyone getting me food, really.
“Thanks.” I dragged a chair over to their table and sat down between him and Nix. The table was small enough that our knees almost touched. I scooted away and looked at Claire instead of him.
Her brown hair fell in waves around her face, and she was dressed for the kitchen in an apron that covered her t-shirt and jeans, though I hadn’t seen her in here the last couple of days. “How’d your last job go?”
“Good. Caught the bloke as he was leaving the bank.”
“That’s convenient.” Claire was a Fire Mage with a dash of Hearth Witch, hence the coffee shop. By day, she was a mercenary. Magical organizations hired her to handle problems. She kicked ass but had an unquenchable desire to make excellent coffee and pastries. Connor hadn’t inherited any of his mother’s Fire Mage powers and was all Hearth Witch, so he ran their shop most of the time. He was wickedly good at potions, which lent itself to preparing the enchanted coffees they offered.
“Yeah, it was an easy job. You want the usual?” Claire asked, her dark eyes alight with the same who-is-this-dude look that the others had sent my way.
Everyone thought it was weird as hell that I was hanging out with one of the wealthiest, most powerful guys in the world. I agreed.
“Uh, no thanks. A latte?” PBR was my drink of choice in the evenings, even though everyone made fun of me for drinking the beer of hipsters and hillbillies. I didn’t drink a lot, but I was picky about it when I did. But if I was going to be chatting with Aidan about the scroll—or anything really—I needed to be on my game.
“Sure thing,” Claire said.
“How’d it go today?” Connor asked from behind the counter as he crafted my latte. He had the same dark hair as Claire and also favored her P & P uniform of jeans and a t-shirt topped with an apron.
“Ah, good,” I said, glancing awkwardly at Aidan. Connor liked to hear about the enchantments and demons in each tomb or temple that I raided, but now wasn’t the time for a play-by-play. “I’ll tell you about it later.”
