Fugitive of Magic (Dragon's Gift: The Protector Book 1)

by Linsey Hall

  “We will be in touch,” Magisteria said.

  I nodded, then turned. The back of my neck tingled as I walked away. They were definitely watching us. My friends and I left the old factory and went into the cold, dark night. We were on the far side of our neighborhood, about a half mile from our street.

  “I can’t believe this happened so close to our homes,” I said.

  “There’s a first for everything,” Cass said.

  “What was that weirdness all about?” Del asked.

  “I’ll tell you when we get home.” I walked briskly, ready to get behind the safety of my locked doors. The memory of the silver sonic bomb flashed in my mind. “What happened after I was abducted?”

  “We heard the blast,” Nix said. “Just a boom. Like a sonic bomb.”

  “Yeah, that’s what it was.” I turned left down our street.

  “We ran outside,” Cass said. “By the time we made it down the street, you’d been dragged off. Ares was fighting three guys, but he had a concussion and wasn’t doing too well.”

  “Really?”

  “Well, he still killed them all,” Aidan said. “But after seeing him tonight, I realize he could have done it in a fraction of the time.”

  “Yeah, he’s not bad in a fight.” Being a mixed vampire mage hybrid would do that for a guy.

  “It took us an hour to find you,” Del said. “We used our dragon senses to track you, but it was tricky. I think they had some kind of concealment charm on you. Not a strong one, but enough to delay us a bit.”

  “Yeah.” I held up my wrist and removed the brass bangle. In the heat of the moment, I’d forgotten the bracelet. “Thanks for finding me, though.”

  “Anytime. What went on back there?” Cass asked as we reached our green door.

  “Let’s chat in my place, okay?” I asked.

  “Sure. Girls only?” Del asked.

  I looked at Aidan and Roarke. We were friends—family, even—but right now… Right now I wanted only my deirfiúr. “Yeah, if that’s okay.”

  “No problem.” Aidan grinned. “Glad you’re better.”

  “Seconded,” Roarke said.

  “Thanks, guys.” We left them, heading up to my apartment.

  They took a seat on the couch while I scavenged in the fridge and came up with three of Cass’s PBRs that she’d stashed there a while ago. I really needed to get to the store.

  I returned to the living room and held them up. “Who wants a drink?”

  “That’s all you’ve got?” Del asked.

  “Yep. And you’re going to like it,” I said.

  “I’m going to tolerate it.” Del took a can and popped it open.

  Cass followed suit, sighing contentedly. I collapsed on the couch, my muscles melting into the cushions. I opened my own beer and took a big swig. “I did it. I used my FireSoul gift.”

  Both gasped.

  “Really?” Cass asked. “I thought it made you sick.”

  “Still does.” Even now, my stomach was feeling woozy. Not to mention the weird magic now camped out in my chest and the prophecy floating around in my head. At least, I was pretty sure the secret was a prophecy.

  “Why now?” Del asked. “Was it to steal his Informa power? To get that secret?”

  “Yeah. It felt necessary. I don’t think this thing with the dragon tattoo gang is over. There’s more to it than we realized, and that secret is part of it.”

  “What was it?” Cass asked.

  I met her gaze, confusion racing around inside my head. “I think so. I only understood two words, which is what the Cathar Perfecti said would happen. That I wouldn’t be able to understand it all because of how they encode the information.”

  “What are the words?” Del asked.

  “Dragons. And return.”

  Cass’s eyes widened, and Del’s jaw slackened.

  “What?” Del said.

  “Dragons are dead,” Cass added.

  “Yeah. I think it’s a prophecy. It’s the secret Aleric was getting for his Master, the person who must be in charge of all those dragon tattoo minions.”

  “They’re dead though. And most were demons anyway. Hired mercs.” Del sipped her beer, her expression thoughtful.

  “There will be more where they came from, though. They’re dedicated.” The memory of the two who committed suicide flashed in my mind. I shivered. That kind of dedication…

  Cultlike.

  “So we need to figure out what this prophecy is,” Del said. “Do you think he told his Master?”

  “I don’t know. But the prophecy is important, whatever it is.”

  “That’s one important loose thread,” Cass said. “We’ll have to figure this out.”

  “Agreed.” Dragons whispered in my head over and over. So did the idea of some shady bossman calling the shots with a bunch of evil minions.

  “I also got his Destroyer magic.” I drew in a ragged breath. My queasy stomach was not making this easy. “But it feels like crap. I think it’s making me ill.”

  “No good without the bad,” Cass said. “But you can learn to control it.”

  “I hope so. Because it feels terrible.”

  “You’ll learn,” Del said. “Taking powers requires that you learn. Your skills will grow, but you have to control them or they’ll overtake you.”

  The queasiness confirmed her statement. This was gross. A polluting magic that I’d need to master so that it didn’t incapacitate me.

  “And there’s one more thing. It’s worse,” I said.

  “Yeah?” Del asked.

  “Doyen, one of the vampires, read my mind. She knows I’m a FireSoul.”

  Cass and Del gasped.

  “Shit,” Cass said.

  “Not good,” Del added.

  “I think I need to run for it. Lie low for a little while. They can’t come back around here—especially not Doyen. She could read your minds too.”

  “You can’t run,” Cass said.

  “Not far. Not forever.” But even the idea made my head ache. I didn’t want to run. I hadn’t been parted from them since the moment we woke in the field at fifteen.

  “I don’t know. There’s got to be something we can do,” Del said.

  “Kill them,” Cass said.

  “No!” I squeezed her hand. “We can’t.”

  “To protect you, I could.” Her voice was fierce.

  “Thanks.” I smiled weakly. “I appreciate it. But I don’t think killing them all is the answer. I just don’t know what is.”

  “We’ll think of—”

  Something clattered against the window at the front of my apartment. I looked up. A small pebble hit the glass. Then another.

  “You may have a visitor,” Cass said.

  I got up and walked to the window, then peered out. Ares stood below. I pushed open the window, my skin chilled before the cold night air rushed in. He knew what I was now. Doyen would have told him.

  Most thought we were evil.

  What would he think?

  Given what his mother had done for a living, I was pretty sure I knew.

  “What do you want?” I called down.

  “To talk to you.”

  I turned back to my friends. “What do you think?”

  “Might as well talk to him,” Cass said. “He might be on your side.”

  “I doubt it.”

  “Only one way to know,” Del said. “Talk to him.”

  I turned back to the window. “You aren’t going to try to transport me away from here, right?”

  That was the last thing I needed.

  “I won’t. On my honor.”

  I studied his eyes. I trusted him. I didn’t know what he was going to say, but he wouldn’t try to forcibly remove me from here. I wouldn’t let him.

  “Fine,” I called. “I’ll be right down.”

  I turned back to my friends. “You guys can go.”

  “You sure?” Del asked.

  “Yeah. I’ve got this. Once I hear
what he has to say, we’ll come up with a plan. If it’s leaving, then it’s leaving.” Though my heart ached to think of it.

  “Fine.” Cass hugged me, then left. Del did the same.

  I watched them head up the stairs to their places, then I walked down to the main door. I pulled it open to find Ares on the step. I held out my hand. “Stop right there.”

  “I know what you are.”

  “I figured.” I searched his eyes, but they were unreadable. “And?”

  “I don’t care.”

  “What? Uh, what about your mother? Wasn’t she head of the committee to hunt FireSouls?”

  “That was a long time ago.” He frowned. “When I was younger, I agreed with her zealousness. She was my mother. And I’ll admit I’ve been wary of FireSouls my entire life. But you’re different.”

  Annoyance filled my chest. “No, I’m not. I’ve met other FireSouls who live in their own realm, and they aren’t evil.” I was careful to say how they lived far away, in their own realm. I didn’t trust him enough to point him toward Del or Cass. “They’re good people. Just because we can do bad by stealing powers didn’t mean that we do. FireSouls have been getting a bad rap for centuries.”

  I’d done it tonight, but only once the guy was already dying and because I hoped it would lead to the greater good. I didn’t like myself for it, because it still felt kinda self-serving, but I’d been trying to be good.

  “They get a bad rap from people who are frightened,” he said. “But I’m not scared of anything. And I could tell if you’re evil. It’s my job. You’re far from evil, Nix.”

  Hmm. A flicker of optimism lit in my chest. “This is surprising. Everyone thinks FireSouls are evil. You don’t?”

  He shook his head. “You’re smart, tough, and you have a moral compass set to dead center.”

  “Oh.” I hadn’t expected compliments.

  “And I like you, Nix. A lot.”

  Surprise flared in my chest. He stepped forward, putting his hand on my waist. I stiffened, but didn’t shove him away.

  It felt nice. More than nice.

  “And I want to spend more time with you.” He leaned down, his green eyes intent on mine.

  “You do?” I stared at his lips, unable to look away. Tension fizzed in the air between us. He tugged me slightly closer. My breath caught. He was going to kiss me.

  Instead of letting him make the first move, I stood on my tiptoes and threw my arms around his neck, pressing my lips to his. He groaned and pulled me closer, parting my lips with his tongue and kissing me until I saw stars.

  Finally, I gasped and pulled away. I stepped back and put up a hand. “Don’t think that means anything. I just wanted to get that out of my system.”

  “And?”

  “Not bad.” More than not bad. It was great. My head was still spinning. “So the Vampire Court is fine with me?”

  I grinned, hardly able to believe that I was off the hook.

  Ares frowned. “Well, no.”

  I stepped back, startled. “Wait, what? They aren’t? You tell me this after you kiss me?”

  “Technically, you kissed me first.”

  I scowled. “My mistake. I thought everything was good. You just said you didn’t think I was evil.”

  “I don’t. But Magisteria and Doyen are suspicious. They wanted to turn you over to the Order of the Magica, but I’ve convinced them to hold onto the information and give you a chance.”

  My head pounded. “So you ordered them not to tell the Magica?”

  Was I at least safe from that, for now?

  “I did. But it will not last. It’s not just that you are a FireSoul that makes them wary—you can walk in the Shadowlands. You shouldn’t be able to do that. You aren’t a Vampire or one of our allies. Only powerful dark magic could permit you to walk there. Like the kind that Aleric used to allow him to stalk Marin before he killed him.”

  “I didn’t use dark magic. You’re nuts. I have no idea why I can walk there.”

  “And that’s what has Magisteria and Doyen so wary. Myself as well. You possess strange magic, Nix. It makes you dangerous. The Vampire Court has demanded that you complete a series of trials and an interview to prove you’re an ally. That we can trust you.”

  “Hell, no.”

  “They will turn you over. And your friends, for harboring you.”

  I shoved him. “No! I helped you with this case. You can’t do this to me now.”

  “You’ll be fine. You’ll complete the challenges and prove you’re trustworthy. Then your secret will be safe. Better yet, you’ll have Vampire protection.”

  That piqued my interest. “Really? That means you’d defend me. Hunt anyone who hurt me. Like you did with Marin.”

  “It’s a two way street, Nix. If you can earn their trust—my trust—it will help you.”

  “What about my trust?” I asked.

  “I’ll try to earn that too.” His gaze was serious.

  “And my alternative is them turning me and my friends in to the Order?” I gnawed on my lower lip.

  “Yes. And we won’t put a collar on you. Not like last time. You must complete the trials of your own volition. But I’ll help you.”

  “I don’t need your help.” I didn’t want his help. Maybe this was his idea of a favor—him convincing the rest of the Court to let me audition to be an ally. But it felt pretty shitty right now.

  “You’ll need it.”

  I could just run. But I didn’t want to. And I wouldn’t. I’d spend too much of my life running. And he said that they’d turn in my friends for harboring a FireSoul. I couldn’t let that happen. Especially when they were FireSouls. They’d be found out.

  “Fine. I’ll do it. Whatever their dumb challenges are—I’ll beat them.” I poked him hard in the chest. “But forget that kiss. We’re all business from here on out. Nothing funny.”

  “Oh, I promise you won’t be laughing.”

  I grinned, then frowned. I needed to keep a straight head where he was concerned. “Whatever. I’m going to focus on these challenges.”

  “We’ll both focus on them.”

  I frowned at him. “Apparently so.”

  I was still wary of him and my trust wasn’t at one hundred percent. But if I’d learned anything in my time as a FireSoul, you were always stronger in numbers. And I had a feeling I was going to need every advantage I could get. With the new magic roiling around in my system and the Vampire Court breathing down my neck, I’d need all the help I could get.

  THANK YOU FOR READING!

  I hope you enjoyed reading this book as much as I enjoyed writing it. Reviews are so helpful to authors. I really appreciate all reviews, both positive and negative. If you want to leave one, you can do so at Amazon or GoodReads.

  Author’s Note

  Thank you so much for reading Fugitive of Magic! As with all of my books, I included historical and mythological elements. If you’re interested in reading more about that, read on. At the end, I’ll talk a bit about why Nix and her deirfiúr are treasure hunters and how I try to make that fit with archaeology’s ethics (which don’t condone treasure hunting, as I’m sure you might have guessed).

  Now, onto the history in Fugitive of Magic! The artifacts that Nix and her deirfiúr collect and preserve come from all different cultures and periods. The clay vase that the demons were attempting to steal was from the Bell Beaker culture, which lasted from approximately 2900 - 1800 BC. It spread across western Europe and was characterized by distinctive bell-shaped pottery vessels that were used for everything from drinking to funerary urns. It was the first instance of cultural contact on such a massive scale—they have been found in areas stretching as far as Scotland to southern Italy and eastern Europe.

  The rest of the historical elements to the book are slightly more modern. Saint Pancras station, which houses the Order of the Secret Stealers, is a magnificent Victorian building built in the 1860s. To my knowledge, there are no underground Roman warehouses (called hor
rea) or shops underneath Saint Pancras station, but they do exist in Narbonne France. If the Romans built them at that side of their empire, perhaps they built them in London, which they called Londinium.

  The last bit of history that I included are the Cathar castles in southern France. The Cathars were a religious sect founded in the 11th century AD. They were supported by the local people and lords, some of whom were Cathars themselves. They built incredible castles at the peaks of mountains across the Languedoc region. The Catholic Church waged a Crusade against the Cathars in the thirteenth century. Many of the battles were conducted at the Cathar castles. Though their mountaintop castles were impressive, they were not enough to protect the from the Crusade. Nearly all Cathars were killed during the Medieval period, but their strongholds still stand.

  That’s it for the historical influences in Fugitive of Magic. However, one of the most important things about this book is how Nix and her deirfiúr treat artifacts and their business, Ancient Magic.

  As I’m sure you know, archaeology isn’t quite like Indiana Jones (for which I’m both grateful and bitterly disappointed). Sure, it’s exciting and full of travel. However, booby-traps are not as common as I expected. Total number of booby-traps I have encountered in my career: zero. Still hoping, though.

  When I chose to write a series about archaeology and treasure hunting, I knew I had a careful line to tread. There is a big difference between these two activities. As much as I value artifacts, they are not treasure. Not even the gold artifacts. They are pieces of our history that contain valuable information, and as such, they belong to all of us. Every artifact that is excavated should be properly conserved and stored in a museum so that everyone can have access to our history. No one single person can own history, and I believe very strongly that individuals should not own artifacts. Treasure hunting is the pursuit of artifacts for personal gain.

  So why did I make Nix and her deirfiúr treasure hunters? I’d have loved to call them archaeologists, but nothing about their work is like archaeology. Archaeology is a very laborious, painstaking process—and it certainly doesn’t involve selling artifacts. That wouldn’t work for the fast-paced, adventurous series that I had planned for Dragon’s Gift. Not to mention the fact that dragons are famous for coveting treasure. Considering where the deirfiúr got their skills from, it just made sense to call them treasure hunters.