Burned (A Magic Bullet Novel Book 1)

by A. Blythe

  We sat down at a table in the corner of the room, away from the other patrons.

  "Too bad," Farah said. "From the way those women are ogling him, he could be having a lot of sex."

  I followed her gaze to a trio of women in suits and heels. They were all vying for Reed's attention, but he didn't notice them. He was too busy staring at the menu board, weighing his choices. I had to agree with Farah. It seemed like a waste.

  "Keep your mind clear when he joins us," I warned. "No pornographic thoughts. Remember, he's telepathic. I know it's not your strong suit, but try to hold your tongue during our little chat."

  "I'd like him to hold my tongue between his..."

  I cut her off as Reed approached. "No drinks?" I asked.

  "The girl said she'd bring them over," he said. "She was very accommodating."

  I'll bet.

  "So what inspired this meet and greet?" I asked. "My unfortunate timing with corpses?"

  He settled back in his chair and debated his words. "I did a little research on you."

  "Oh?"

  "Your people seemed very surprised to hear you were in town."

  Uh oh. "My people?" Don't say Marida. Don't say Marida.

  "The Marida court."

  Damn. "Do you regularly contact members of the court?"

  "I'm friendly with Prince Simdan."

  No one was friendly with Prince Simdan. Everyone with a brain agreed he was a grade A jackass.

  "And what did he say when you told him?" I asked, keeping my voice neutral. I didn't want to give anything away.

  "He seemed eager to see you," Reed said.

  "Fat chance," Farah snorted.

  One of the girls from behind the counter appeared with three coffees. Reed thanked her and took them from the tray.

  "Aren't you obligated to check in with your court?" Reed asked.

  "I'm sure you'd think that with your deep love of rules and regulations," I said.

  "It isn't a love," he replied. "It's a healthy respect."

  "If you say so." I took a sip of my drink and winced. The heat scorched my tongue. That would teach me not to blow on it first.

  I glanced over at Farah who had already managed to get foam on the tip of her nose. She licked it off seductively, but Reed failed to notice. He was too busy studying me, looking for signs of guilt, no doubt.

  "Well, I did a little research on the Nephilim," I lied.

  He leaned back in his chair and eyed me expectantly. "And what did you learn?"

  "Nothing I didn't already know. The Nephilim are a bunch of self-righteous hermits who only come out of the woodwork when it's demanded by their positions as the self-appointed protectors of humans."

  "Gee, Miss Winters, don't hold back," Reed said. "Tell me how you really feel about my kind."

  I was unapologetic, which was pretty stupid under the circumstances. I had to work on that.

  "You're a mix of angels with an inferiority complex and humans with a superiority complex."

  He scratched his chin. "You spend too much time on Wikipedia."

  "Anyone who chooses to live a monk-like existence has to be battling some serious personal demons," I told him. "Like on a daily basis."

  "Monk-like?" he queried.

  "You know." I leaned over and whispered. "No sex."

  He gave me a cryptic smile in response.

  At the mention of sex, Farah's eyebrows shot up. "Wait, what are we talking about?"

  "We're talking about the reason your friend is wearing copper bands."

  Damn, he was smooth.

  He turned his attention back to me. "You were saying?"

  "Can't you read my mind and figure it out?" I asked.

  "Because I'd much rather have a conversation with you than invade your thoughts. Wouldn't you agree?"

  "Didn't stop you before."

  "I'm aiming to do better," he said.

  That made two of us.

  "Seems that someone in my agency saw fit to put me on the naughty step."

  "That's her way of saying she's been fired," Farah said. "Scorched earth-style."

  "And before you ask, I don't know who gave the order and I don't know why," I said. There was no reason not to come clean, especially because I intended to ask for his help. Well, that was when I thought I could offer my assistance. Now my assistance seemed to mean convincing him that I wasn't the murderer.

  "So she's helping O'Leary find a stolen heirloom to make some money," Farah offered. "The Shadow Elite shut down all her accounts. She needs money pronto."

  I kicked Farah under the table.

  "Ouch," Reed said.

  Okay, I meant to kick Farah under the table.

  "So you're working for Jimmy O'Leary?" he queried. "Is that why you wanted to meet with him? For work?"

  I groaned. "Don't get your tighty whities in a wedgie. I'm not joining the mob. I'm doing a simple side job for him. It's a family heirloom with sentimental value." No need to mention that it was also a weapon.

  "What kind of weapon?" he asked.

  "Hey," I yelled. "That's cheating. You said you wouldn't do that." So much for Protectorate honor.

  "Sorry," he said, a faint blush creeping into his cheeks. "It was an accident."

  "Kinda like me and crime scenes," I said archly.

  Farah leaned forward, putting her impressive cleavage on full display. "So can you hear what all the women in this coffee shop are thinking about you?"

  "What makes you sure they're thinking about me?" he asked.

  She glanced at the other patrons. "Well, half of them are staring at you with dreamy eyes and the other half are shooting daggers at Alyse and me."

  She was right -- they were.

  "I don't tend to eavesdrop on random people's thoughts," Reed said. "It's unethical."

  "And don't you forget it," I replied.

  "So what kind of weapon?" he prompted.

  Damn. I thought the conversation had veered away from that particular topic. "A scian."

  "Forged from cold iron and copper," Farah added. This time I made sure to kick her.

  Reed tapped his fingers on the table. "Well, that's interesting."

  "No, it's really not," Farah said. "I have a whole armory of them."

  I palmed my face. "Are you trying to become a suspect, Farah?"

  "That depends," she said, batting her eyes at Reed. "Would that mean we get to spend more time together?"

  "Do you have any leads?" he asked me, ignoring Farah's blatant flirtation.

  "Not on the weapon, but I did have a chat with someone about the murders, if you're interested. He heard that organ harvesters are behind the killings."

  "I've had similar thoughts," he admitted. "There are rogue traders that invade the colony on occasion. Usually the crime syndicate takes care of the problem, though."

  "You rely on the mob to get rid of the other criminals?" I asked.

  "When it makes sense to do so." He appeared unconcerned. "They have a habit of aggressively protecting their turf. When it suits us, we let them."

  "What about the mob? Could this be one of their guys going rogue?"

  "I have Protectors looking into it," Reed said. "The identity of their organ trader seems to be a bit of a mystery, though. No one's willing to talk."

  That sounded like someone worth investigating.

  "So what's the point of this little get-together?" I asked, cutting to the chase. "If you're not careful, I might think you're overly fond of me, Captain Reed."

  "I wanted to see whether you know more about the murders than you claim."

  "So what's the verdict?" I asked, leaning forward. "Am I a suspect or not?"

  "I'm not sure, but I do know you have drips of coffee on your chin."

  I glanced at Farah who nodded. I blotted my chin with a napkin. "Well, this has been fun, but I need to get to work."

  Farah nodded. "She owes me money and it makes her unhappy."

  I winced at the reminder.

  "If you s
tumble across any more corpses be sure to give me a call." He smiled pleasantly.

  "There will be no stumbling. I am as graceful as a cat."

  "Ooh, remember when you shifted into that Siamese cat?" Farah said and laughed. "The landlord was so pissed off." She looked at Reed. "He was allergic, so Alyse would sneak into his place at night as mist and then shift into the cat. He got so frustrated. He couldn't understand where all the cat hair came from."

  "He was not a nice landlord," I said. In actual fact, he was a slumlord and he deserved far worse than he got.

  "Well, I appreciate you ladies taking the time out of your busy schedules to chat with me."

  "Anytime," Farah said. "Really. I mean anytime."

  I grabbed her arm and hauled her away from the table.

  We left the coffee shop with my head in a fog. I couldn't tell from our chat whether Reed believed I was innocent. I decided to stay out of his way for now. It seemed smarter than offering my help, which would only be met with suspicion at this point. More than that, I couldn't afford any more marks against me or I'd never clear my name. Hell, the cuffs could even be used to build a case against me here. Only the truly dangerous djinn warranted cuffs. I thought I was already at my lowest point, yet, somehow, I managed to make things worse. Typical.

  13

  After one too many run-ins with mobsters and corpses, I decided it was time to ramp up my physical training. As much as I hated to admit it, I'd gone soft in the human department. When you have the power to summon objects, shift at will, control the weather, and channel the essential fire from your soul, trust me, your human form gets a tiny bit neglected. It was time to step up. For that, I needed a hard-ass to train with me and the only hard-ass in town who had the chops was the one djinni I preferred to avoid.

  I knocked on the front door, inwardly cursing myself for what I was about to do.

  Flynn opened the door, fresh from the shower. His dark hair glistened with water droplets and his lower half was, mercifully, wrapped in a towel, revealing a finely sculpted torso. When he saw me on the doorstep, he let out a low whistle.

  "I knew you'd come back eventually. Thought it might take longer, though."

  Nobody should be this smug. "If I'd known you were half naked, I would have waited."

  He grinned. "Until I was entirely naked? Because that can be easily arranged." He started to release the two ends of the towel he was holding.

  "Drop that towel and you'll regret it," I said, shielding my eyes. Been there, done that. Not interested in a return trip.

  He chuckled and stepped aside to let me pass. "Come in, my blue diamond."

  My eyes narrowed. "I told you never to call me that again."

  "Why not? The name still suits you." He ambled into the kitchen and I followed him, avoiding the pictures on the wall this time. I didn't want to see Tessa's smiling face judging me, even from the confines of a wooden Pottery Barn frame.

  "Tessa's not here," he said. "She went to the store."

  In truth, I already knew that because I waited for her to leave before I gathered the courage to knock.

  I sucked in a breath. "I need your help," I said. Might as well get straight to the point, as much as it pained me.

  "I still haven't heard anything about your situation."

  I shook my head and leaned my back against the kitchen counter. "I need to up my game while I'm in this form."

  His brow lifted. "Trouble?"

  "Always."

  "I like that it isn't me for a change."

  "You'd have to get in line."

  "Let me guess. Your court found out you're here?"

  "Among other things." Now it was only a matter of time before Prince Simdan demanded my presence at court. I dreaded that particular reunion. It was one more reason to hone my physical skills. "If I'm going to be stuck in this body for an indefinite amount of time, I need to get in better shape."

  "Your shape looks pretty good from where I'm standing," he replied.

  I fought my natural urge to punch him in the gut. Or kick him in the balls. All were common feelings when I was with Flynn.

  "I'm not talking about my looks. I'm talking about training and conditioning this body. Going back to the basics. Martial arts, hand-to-hand combat, spears and swords."

  He nodded sagely. "So you came to me."

  "As much as it pains me to say it, you have the skills I need. You were always good about focusing on your human form."

  "That's because I was never as powerful as you. I needed it more."

  I knew that was hard for him to admit. Part of our relationship difficulties had involved his desire to protect me and my desire to not need his protection.

  "So will you help me?" I asked.

  "I think I can work it into my busy schedule. Any place in mind?"

  I looked around his domestic hideout with its tasteful window dressings and neutral throw rugs. "I'm guessing your house is out of the question." An idea sprang to mind. "What about the warehouse you sent me to? The one where I found the dead Protector." Even if mobsters or supernaturals used to meet there, they won't anymore. Not after it became a crime scene.

  "Okay. Name the day and time and I'll be there."

  I gave him a hard stare. "You don't look busy now."

  "You've persuaded me," he said. "I'm throwing in the towel." He moved to drop his towel again and I spun on my heel and hurried from the kitchen.

  "I'll meet you there in an hour," I called over my shoulder. "Make sure you're fully dressed or I reserve the right to declare open season on any exposed bits."

  His laughter followed me even as my feet hit the pavement outside.

  To keep Flynn and I from tearing each other to pieces, Farah made the executive decision to accompany me to the warehouse. As we unloaded two sacks of weapons from the back of the Prius, I prayed that no one saw us. Farah could turn invisible, but I couldn't. I'd literally be left holding the bag.

  Flynn was already inside when we arrived. He rolled his eyes at the sight of Farah.

  "I didn't know we were supposed to bring our own cheerleaders."

  Flynn and Farah had always had a healthy distrust of one another.

  "I consider myself more of a referee," Farah said.

  We opened our sacks and dumped the weapons onto the floor. Flynn came over to inspect the haul.

  "Are you serious?" he asked, his gaze flickering over the assortment of blades, spears and staffs. "I thought the plan was to punch each other until one of us was knocked unconscious."

  "This isn't a bar brawl," I chastised him. "Otherwise, Farah would be training me."

  She folded her arms and nodded in agreement.

  "I need to get comfortable fighting without my djinn powers." I picked up a tiger's claw and tested it in my hand. Great for a surprise attack. I continued poking through the supplies.

  "If you're going with the bagh naka," Farah said, "I'd take a second weapon for your other hand. Maybe a sword."

  "I think I'll save it for another time." I set it down and chose another. A misericorde. These knives were perfect for dealing a deathblow. I could pierce the brain or the heart, easy peasy.

  "Why do I get the sense that you intend to skewer me?" Flynn asked.

  "Only in my dreams," I said. I liked the feel of the knife, but it was too dangerous for a training exercise. If Flynn pissed me off, I didn't necessarily want to kill him.

  "Start with the crescent moon knives," Farah encouraged. "It's the kind of weapon you'd keep concealed, so you might want to consider carrying them anyway."

  I held a blade in each hand. "Don't worry," I told him. "These are steel. I won't use cold iron in training."

  He rubbed his hands together in anticipation. "Let's go, sweetness. I need to be home for dinner. Tessa's making a quinoa salad with mango."

  Of course she is.

  "Wait, you need a safe word," Farah said.

  We both looked at her.

  "You know, a safe word, like in BDSM." Wh
en neither of us responded, she groaned in exasperation. "If Flynn's methods get out of hand, you need a special word to tell him to back the hell off."

  He grinned. "How about 'blue diamond'?"

  "That's two words," I shot back.

  "Fine. I know another word you like. How about cocktail?"

  I put a hand on my hip. "How about just cock?" Inviting Flynn back into my life was starting to seem like a bad idea.

  Farah stepped between us. "Listen up, you two adult-sized toddlers. Either play nice together or don't play at all." She looked at me. "Alyse, given your history with him, he doesn't have to help you. He's actually being quite generous with his time." She turned to Flynn. "And you don't need to be so smug. Alyse is dealing with a traumatic change in circumstances, so be a freakin' gentleman about it."

  He dipped his head in acknowledgement and Farah returned to her place against the wall.

  "The safe word is vengeance," I said.

  "Don't need to dig deep on that one," he replied. "Okay, let's get started." With those words, he disappeared.

  I stood in the middle of the room, trying to identify where he'd turn up next. I put myself in his shoes. Where would I go?

  I spun around as he materialized behind me. His fist moved toward me, but I was faster. I blocked his blow with the hand guard.

  "No need for blindfolds when your opponent can disappear," I said, moving into an offensive position.

  "But blindfolds can be so much fun," he said. "Remember Miami?"

  Was he seriously bringing up Miami?

  My temper flared. "I told you never to mention that again."

  I sliced with both hands. One at his throat and the other at his stomach. He dodged my blades with a graceful turn. I laughed when he summoned a folding metal chair.

  "A chair? Have I tired you out already?"

  He smirked. "Hardly."

  "Then what do you expect to do with that?"

  He held it over his head and threw it at me. I ducked and it skimmed the top of my head.

  "Hey, that almost hit me."

  "Kinda the point," he said.

  I rushed him, but he enveloped himself in shadow before I reached him. Foiled again.

  Flynn reappeared behind me and plucked a sword from the pile of weapons. He sauntered toward me, circling his wrist with every step.