by Linsey Hall
“It’s not your fault, Cass.” Aidan gripped my thigh in a comforting squeeze.
How did he know so well what I was thinking?
Our arrival at Factory Row saved me from having to answer. I pulled my car into its usual spot along the street and turned the key.
“We’re going to need a way to sneak up on the investigators,” I said. “Let’s see if Connor has anything to help us out.”
Aidan’s solemn gaze met mine, but I scrambled out before he could say anything. I wasn’t going to be stupid and throw away whatever good thing I had with him by clamming up totally, but I didn’t want to talk about my guilt right now. That would end up feeling like therapy, and I didn’t have the time.
Aidan grabbed my hand as we crossed the street toward P & P. I squeezed, grateful for his presence. His patience.
Dark had fallen while we were driving home, and the windows of P & P glowed with warm yellow light. There were a couple patrons sitting at one of the many small tables, but it was the sight of my two deirfiúr, sitting in our favored comfy armchairs in the corner, that made me smile.
Del was back.
I hurried ahead, pushing through the door before Aidan could try something silly like holding it open for me.
I caught Connor’s eye from behind the counter and nodded my head toward Del and Nix. A signal that I wanted to talk.
“Be there in a few,” he said as he stirred a drink.
“Thanks.” I glanced over at Aidan, who’d just entered.
“I’m going to see if Connor has any pasties in the back. Better to go back to the museum with some fuel in our stomachs.”
“Thanks. Good thinking, but ask Bridget.” I nodded toward the blond girl who sometimes worked the counter when Claire was on mercenary jobs. “I want to talk to Connor when he’s free.”
“Sure.” He headed toward the counter, his tall form commanding the attention of the other patrons.
I turned to approach Del and Nix. “Del! You’re back. You get your guy?”
“Better believe it.” She grinned, her blue eyes sparkling. Her black hair was pulled back in a ponytail. “He put up a fight, but he’s back in his hell now.”
“Good.” I flicked a hand over the sleeve of her black leather jacket. I favored brown, but Del was all about the black. “You got some blood there.”
“Life of a demon slayer.”
“Badass.” I grinned, but everything that had happened recently wiped it off my face.
Del’s eyes turned serious. “Nix told me about the two Tracker demons who came looking for us earlier today.”
“Yeah. But we got them.”
“The Monster had to have sent them,” Del said.
My stomach turned at the mention of the shadowy man who haunted my memories and nightmares.
“Not for us necessarily,” Nix whispered. She glanced at the other patrons, clearly trying to judge if they could hear us.
Fortunately, they got up to go, making their way to the exit, too slowly for my liking. When the door shut behind them, Nix turned back.
“The Monster is hunting FireSouls. All FireSouls. Some seer told him there are some here, but not us specifically. And our charms hide us.”
“Yeah, that’s true,” I said. “But it’s still no good if he’s sniffing around.”
“If he sends more scouts, we kill them. And if he doesn’t know it’s us who live here, he might give up and look for others.”
“Maybe.” The Monster was hunting FireSouls, enslaving them to use for unknown purposes. We didn’t know what his end goal was, just that we didn’t want to get caught.
Connor approached from the counter, a grin on his face. “What can I get you?”
Relieved, I turned to face him. “Not coffee. We need something a little more interesting.”
Connor’s dark brow quirked. “I’ll have a seat, then. Claire’s off on a job, but Bridget can watch the counter.”
Connor sat as Aidan approached, a plate of pasties in his hand. My stomach grumbled at the smell of the savory treats. Claire and Conner were from Cornwall, in England, and had brought the Cornish Pasty, the most famous treat from their homeland, along with them. It was a specialty of the P & P. I had one in my mouth before the plate hit the little table in the center of our circle of chairs.
“Thanks,” I mumbled around a bite of beef, potato, and flaky crust. Aidan always knew when to feed me. How had I gotten so lucky? And how had we not had time for more than a brief cuddle and kiss?
Connor tugged his chair closer and spoke softly. “What is it you need?”
Oh, right. That was why. Things were always chasing me or my friends lately. My life had been dangerous before, but ever since the Monster had reappeared a month ago, his agenda uncertain, things had been crazy.
I swallowed my mouthful and spoke. “We need something that will allow us to sneak up on someone. Like an invisibility potion or a glamour charm or something.”
He nodded. “Invisibility potion, I can do. What do you need it for?”
I shrank in on myself a bit. I didn’t mind admitting when I’d done wrong, but admitting to recklessness that had put a friend’s life at risk was way harder than confessing to my normal blunders.
But I sucked in a deep breath and told them all about Dr. Garriso and what had happened at the museum with the errant icicle. I showed them the photo I’d taken of the fallen thief, but they didn’t recognize his species. No surprise, really, since he looked human.
I finished by saying, “So we think they were possibly after him. And now we’re just waiting for a call that’ll tell us the investigators have arrived. I want to make sure they’re doing a good enough job, and if they’re not, we’re going to do it for them. I can’t just walk away from this.”
“‘Course not,” Del said.
“A blocked portal, huh?” Nix said. “Never heard of one of those. Kinda goes against everything they’re supposed to be.”
“Yeah,” Del said. “It’s either a hole in space or it’s not. A hole that leads nowhere isn’t exactly a hole.”
“Maybe it’s a closed door,” I said.
“That we can’t open,” Aidan said.
“Then we figure out how—”
Aidan’s phone buzzed, cutting me off.
He pulled it from his pocket and stepped away.
Connor rose. “I’m going to go see what I can do about an invisibility potion.”
“Thanks. You’re the best.”
Connor walked toward the back as Del leaned in and whispered, “How’re you doing? Nix mentioned you had a little, uh, episode earlier with the demons who were looking for us.”
An image of the white flame flickering across my skin flashed in my mind. The driving urge to steal the demon’s power spiked within me, a ghostly memory. Nausea rolled in my belly. I’d almost stolen the one’s power without even meaning to.
I glanced away, unable to look at Del. She and Nix had never had this problem. They’d resisted for years without effort. What made me so different?
“Uh, yeah. But it was nothing. I’ve got it under control.”
“You sure?”
I cringed at the concern in Del’s voice. “Yeah. If I didn’t, I’d tell you.”
And I would. Eventually. I just didn’t want to talk about it now, so I reached for her hand and squeezed it. Nix’s gaze met mine over Del’s shoulder. The concern in Del’s voice was mirrored in Nix’s eyes.
Aidan returned. My shoulders relaxed. I didn’t like having that kind of concerned attention. Praise and compliments, sure, but concern? Nope. I’d rather hang back along the sides while that was going around, thanks very much.
“Well?” I asked.
Aidan stopped before my chair, looming overhead. He was over six feet, a real bruiser of a guy. But that was one of the things I liked about him.
“The Order of the Magica investigators will be there in an hour to inspect the portal,” he said.
“All right. Now we need a
way back in.”
“That won’t be a problem. Origin Enterprises did an update on the Museum security a few years ago. I should be able to get us in.”
“Good. Much easier than anything I’d have come up with.” I grinned. “Is that why the security guards were so freaked out by you? And why Madam Astrix knew you?”
“No. Madam Astrix knows me because I’m a donor to their annual fundraiser.”
As I’d thought. Richer than twelve dragons.
“And the security guards acted like cowards because I’m a scary bastard,” he said.
Fair enough. I was no longer afraid of him, but I had been when I’d first met him. And whenever he turned into a griffin, his Shifter shape of choice, though I was getting over that.
“Great. I’m going to go check on Connor, see how he’s coming with that invisibility potion.”
I rose and wound my way through the small tables toward the counter at the back. Bridget was still mixing drinks—whiskey cocktails instead of coffee now that it was evening—and the breakfast treats tray in the glass case had been replaced with an assortment of savory pasties since they were more of a dinner item.
“I’m headed back to see Connor,” I said to Bridget.
“All right.” Her gaze stayed on the small bottle of bitters she was dashing into a glass of amber liquid.
I skirted around the counter and headed back through the swinging wooden door. The galley kitchen was small and cramped, but ruthlessly organized. I hurried to the door on the left and knocked. It was not smart to barge in on Connor when he was playing with his potions. Explosions, and all that.
Connor pulled the door open, wiping a hand on his band t-shirt. Quartz, this time. I’d never heard of them, but I assumed they were good, if Connor liked them. His dark hair flopped over his forehead.
“Hey. Almost got it done.” He stepped back to let me in.
Though the coffee shop specialized in enchanted coffees, Connor liked to keep the potions themselves separate from the food. His workshop was slightly bigger than the kitchen, but far more cramped and cluttered. Rainbow vials of liquid crowded every shelf. Mortars and pestles and test tubes were scattered across the counter. It was a mad scientist’s lair, all right.
Kitchen Connor was a dictator, potion Conner was an artist. He walked over to a small, smoking cauldron and gave it a stir.
“Won’t taste good, but should do the job,” he said.
“How long will it last?”
“An hour. Maybe a bit more.”
I could work with that.
“But you’ll have to keep control of your magical signature,” he said. “It can’t mask that.”
My heart dropped. “Keep control? You mean, you’ve noticed it?”
“Only since you told me you’re a FireSoul.” He turned to meet me, his brown eyes kind. He was a couple years younger than my own twenty-five, but the kindness in his gaze was older. “I’ve been sensitive to it. Looking for it. But you’re good at masking it. Only powerful supernaturals would notice it.”
Like the investigators from the Order of the Magica. I swallowed hard, a chill prickling my skin.
“And only some of the time,” he added. “Like I said, you’re good at hiding it. It’s not likely anyone will notice you, especially if they can’t see you.”
My shoulders relaxed a bit. He was right. They wouldn’t be able to see me. And I’d thrown myself into practicing my magic—which made me a stronger Mage and better at hiding my signature overall—so I’d probably be okay.
Connor turned back to the cauldron and lifted it, pouring it into two small vials. After he corked them, he handed the vials over.
“These should do you. You’ll be able to see each other because you drank the same potion, but no one else will.”
“Thanks. What do I owe you?”
“Don’t be dumb. Nothing. I like Dr. Garriso too.” He made a shooing motion. “Now go get him back.”
“Thanks.” I gave him a quick hug and hurried out of the kitchen. I shoved the vials into the pocket of my leather jacket as I walked over to Aidan and my deirfiúr.
“Got it,” I said. “Want to head over?”
“Sure.”
“Need any help?” Del asked.
“Maybe, but not now. This is just recon, and we’ve only got enough potion for the two of us.”
“Just let me know. I don’t have another job for a couple of days. I’ll just be scouring the archives for magic for you to hunt.”
“Great. Thanks.”
“Be safe,” Nix said.
“Always.” I turned and followed Aidan to the door, Nix’s scoffing laughter following me out onto the street.
“What’s her problem?” I grumbled.
“She sort of has a point,” Aidan said as we crossed to Cecilia. “You do run at danger.”
“It’s part of my charm.”
He grabbed my hand and squeezed. “It is, actually.”
I smiled despite the rain that had picked up again, but thoughts of Dr. Garriso drove the grin from my face.
3
Aidan made the drive in record time. Now was not the moment to trust Cecilia to get the job done. We parked in the lot across from the museum, behind the old library that now served as a small local theatre.
I dug the vials out of my pocket and handed one over. “Here. It’ll work for an hour. We’ll still be able to see each other.”
Aidan held the small bottle up to the dim light from the street lamp and squinted at the blue contents. “Bet it tastes like hell.”
“Yep.”
“Let’s take it now. Won’t take us long to get in, and we shouldn’t risk being seen sneaking across the parking lot.”
I held my vial up close to his. He clinked his against mine.
“Cheers,” I said, then uncorked the bottle and poured it into my mouth.
A bitter, muddy taste flowed over my tongue. Vile. Magic rarely came without a cost. I choked it down.
Cold shivered along my limbs, followed quickly by a strange numbness. I flexed my fingers, staring at them. Would I be able to fight well like this? Numbness couldn’t be good for the reflexes.
“Think it worked?” Aidan asked.
I scowled. He hadn’t even grimaced. “I feel weird, so I guess so.”
“Good enough. Let’s go.”
We climbed out of the car. I zipped my leather jacket against the rain and we sprinted across the gleaming street, then cut across the wet grass. Aidan led the way up the expansive stairs toward a tall window at the front of the building. Normally, I entered through the back basement, straight into the office wing to see Dr. Garriso. Aidan wanted us to waltz into the biggest exhibit hall in the place.
He stopped in front of the tall window and pulled a round metal charm out of his pocket.
“What’s that?” I asked as he ran it around the edges of the window.
“Spell Stripper.”
I sucked in a breath. “Holy magic, those are rare.”
“Indeed. This one was made specifically for me. Only I can use it.”
“So you can sneak back into the places you provide security for? Isn’t that illegal?”
“I’m not all good, Cass.”
Startled, I glanced up, meeting his dark eyes. The heart of him was there—the good Aidan I’d grown to trust—but so was the darkness that’d made me fear him when I’d first met him.
“But you’re mostly good, right?” I asked.
He nodded. “Yeah, I think so. Where it counts.”
I nodded. Considering that “where it counts” had been sticking by my side and saving me from nasty situations, I figured I could live with that. We all had a little darkness in us. Me, particularly, I was learning.
“Good enough for me,” I said.
“Excellent.” He returned the charm to his pocket and pushed open the window. “Shall we?”
“Wouldn’t miss it.” I hopped up onto the windowsill and climbed down into the huge atrium
of the main entry hall.
No moonlight shined through the glass dome above, so the only light came from the dim recessed lights set into the walls. Shadows of statues and glass cases loomed in the darkness, places where anyone could hide.
Aidan landed silently next to me and shut the window, then ran the Spell Stripper over the edges again, presumably reigniting the protection spells.
“Let’s go,” he said.
We crept through the main part of the atrium, keeping our footsteps silent. My skin prickled to be so out in the open. Damn, I hoped these invisibility charms worked. I felt like I was just strolling through and could be spotted any moment.
I heard and saw no guards as we passed through a narrow room full of white marble statues. Ancient gods and goddesses draped in frozen fabric gazed impassively at us as we passed.
Like many museums, this one was a maze of different-sized rooms. Magic swelled from the room ahead of us, differing signatures that indicated the artifacts within were enchanted like the ones in my shop. Glass cases reflected the dim light. As soon as we stepped over the threshold, a ghostly howl broke through the silence.
It tore at my eardrums as the hair on my arms stood up. My gaze darted to Aidan’s. Surprise flickered in his eyes.
Footsteps thundered toward us.
“Run,” we said at the same time.
We retreated, sprinting back through the statue room and veering left down a narrow corridor lined with ancient shields. I tried my damnedest to keep my footsteps silent. Aidan, of course, had no problem with that, despite his great size. The Shifter in him gave him an unnatural grace.
Footsteps sounded behind us, but I didn’t dare turn to look. I pushed myself faster, seeking a place to hide. We were invisible, but no need to court trouble. And I really didn’t want to risk anyone sensing my magic.
We dove into a large exhibit of Egyptian statues. Towering Pharaohs loomed in the darkness. We ducked behind a sitting Hatshepsut, her throne giving us enough space to lean against her, side by side.
“What was that?” I panted, trying to keep my voice low. The ghostly howl was still screeching.
