Infernal Curse_A New Adult Urban Fantasy

by Antara Mann

  “No, no. Don’t listen to him. He is lying.” I took a step backwards trying my best not to run away even though my heart had started to thud, pounding in my ears like drums. Dogs don’t like it when people start running away, and my intuition told me that maybe dragons’ psychology worked the same way.

  “It is pointless, Alex. He won’t change his focus unless he hears the magical words from me.” Kagan grinned and sat down on the grass, crossing his legs. “I feel we’re about to watch a really good fight,” he commented.

  I cursed him mentally and focused my attention on the approaching dragon. His eyes had become bloodthirsty, the flames puffing out of his nostrils bigger; he was looking at me like a rabid dog. I gulped. If the fae’s strategy had any point, it’d be proven in the next few minutes.

  I gathered all my courage and charged at the beast with a big fireball. It gently caressed his huge body and dissolved into thin air. All I’d managed to do was enrage the dragon. The creature stopped in his tracks, fixing his penetrating cold blue eyes on me. Reddish angry flames blazed around the pupils, his stare deadly. He was figuring out what type of supernatural I was. The flashes of fire from his nostrils grew more intense, and he began beating his wings heavily in the air. He took flight, his eyes boring into mine till I had to close them.

  I prayed to my inner voice, I begged it for help. It tentatively answered my plea.

  So, you’re not able to handle a big, bad dragon, the voice chuckled inside my mind, taunting me as it always did when I was in trouble.

  It is the fae’s fault, I replied, not daring to open my eyes. Fate only knew how close to me that dragon was by now. I could already feel the hot steam from his heavy breathing flow over my skin, tingling and burning me.

  Then why did you give the necklace away?

  Oh, will you stop teasing me and help me out here? I need you. I need my goddess magic.

  Okay, honey, I’ll save your ass one more time. With these words, a new kind of magic surged within me, tugging at me, and I felt its familiar taste as I did the night I fought Garrett.

  I opened my eyes. The dragon was only a few feet away from me in midair. His eyes, gleaming with malice, locked with mine, and he opened his large mouth.

  Right before he could spit fire at me, I did something I didn’t expect. The voice told me to sing a song, saying the words in my mind, and so I obeyed. My voice carried out in the air, clear and tender. I didn’t know the lyrics. It was a totally unfamiliar song to me, the words strange and beyond my comprehension.

  The dragon stopped, blinked with his bloodthirsty eyes, steam coming out of his enlarged nostrils, his mouth open and ready to bite. I kept singing, the tune strangely relaxing, pricking on my skin, its ancient melody clinging to the air around me. The dragon’s large red eyes slowly lost their bloodthirstiness — they became blank again. The beast stopped flipping his wings and crashed down to the grass next to me, his eyes averted.

  Still singing, I walked to him and touched his massive body. A stream of bluish magic infused into its skin at the point of contact. His breathing gradually steadied and slowed, and soon enough he closed his eyes; he’d fallen asleep.

  What did you do? No — more importantly, what was that? I mean, how is it possible to pacify one of the most ancient and magically potent creatures with a song? I asked my inner voice.

  There are so many things you don’t know. Gods and dragons are intrinsically linked in the chronicles of creation. We gods have the power to command dragons; they are vehicles through which we channel our magic.

  Wow — good to know. I turned to the fae. He was looking at me in bewilderment, his mouth open. “How did I do here, Mr. Griffith?” I took my hand off the dragon.

  "It seems pushing you did you some good," he remarked, finally finding his voice.

  “Probably, and yet, I'll ask you not to push the envelope too often in the future. May I have my necklace back, now? Please.”

  I held my hand out. He chuckled and placed the necklace in my palm, his thumb gently stroking my hand as he did so. “As you wish, Princess. Very good job, by the way.” He wrapped his hands around my waist. “See, you can unleash your magic. Just needed а small challenge. Who knew you could boss around my guardian angel?”

  I cracked a smile. “Yeah — I am full of surprises. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to prepare for work.” I pecked Kagan on the lips and took out my best friend’s transportation charm. During or close to full moon my magic was sufficient to teleport me anywhere. Since the moon was waning, I’d have to use the charm.

  I sprinkled the fairy dust and the familiar silver cloud appeared. I stepped inside it.

  ***

  The magic portal spat me in my own apartment in the small town of Ivy Hills, Connecticut. The coziness and warmth of my home came from the reassuring magic of my best friend Naomi — a hedge-witch. Although her power lingered and was infused in every crevice of our house, it didn’t shake off the remaining rush of adrenaline from the battle.

  My thoughts churned, and I wished I had at least hugged Kagan goodbye. I missed his energy already. With difficulty, I pushed this thought to the back of my mind. Now wasn’t the right time for sentimentality. It was past eight-thirty, and I needed to be in the Council’s headquarters by nine.

  I showered and dressed in a long-sleeved shirt, my leather jacket and a pair of old jeans. These were my go-to clothes because my assignments sometimes ended up destroying them.

  When I was ready, I smiled in approval at the reflection from the wardrobe mirror. A tough, badass-ish looking woman was staring back at me. Were my mother alive, she would have been proud of her little baby. Hot tears rolled down my cheeks and I hastily wiped them away.

  The thoughts of my mother reminded me to take out the second most valuable weapon I had — after Anumati’s necklace — from my drawer: my own mother’s silver encrusted knife that my mentor had gifted to me a little over a month ago. The knife was enchanted and extremely powerful. It had helped me enervate quite a few vampires and demons in the past. I grabbed two more enchanted knives, and was ready for work. I patted my pockets to find my badge was in my jacket.

  What drew my attention, however, was the necklace on my chest. Each time I used it, it changed its form. The bronze pendant was now engraved with some intricate symbols. Its ability to transform made the necklace as alive as a person. The image I discerned now reminded me of a wheel, though I couldn’t be sure.

  My eyes glazed over and my hand moved up to touch the necklace. I welcomed the pale yellowish glow as memories assaulted my mind. I remembered how Anumati had gifted me this precious little gem. We were in the sanctum sanctorum of the main building inside the temple complex of Pura Besakih when Kagan called her.

  She first appeared as a black buck, but she took human form when she saw us. To me, she was gorgeous. With her long, raven hair, white skin and lavish Indian clothing, she looked like a Bollywood actress or a heroine from 1001 Nights.

  Kagan introduced us, and I seized the opportunity to ask her about my mother and the reason why my magic was connected to the moon. Her reply was evasive and advised me to talk to Cerridwen, the Celtic goddess of wisdom and knowledge. She further explained that every five thousand years the headquarters of the Court of Heaven changed, but now the governing body was in charge of the Celtic gods and she couldn’t answer without their consent. She gave me this magical necklace with the instruction to touch it when I was in trouble or wanted to activate my goddess magic and then disappeared. I tried not to use it recklessly, without good reason, just like this morning, during the training session with the fae.

  Later, when I relayed my encounter with the goddess to Awen, he confirmed the ruling gods changed as she’d said, and also told me that the Egyptian Era had immediately preceded the current Celtic Era.

  I blinked back to the present and went down to our joint kitchen to grab a quick breakfast before work.

  I and my best friend and business partner, Naomi, lived h
ere, above our occult shop, the Steaming Cauldron. Since I’d been training with the fae, Naomi had been forced to cover both her shift and mine, with the help of an assistant. At least, we could now afford one. About a month ago, our financial situation was dire, as a competitor shop had appeared in our small town, but we got back on our feet and our customers began to come back to us. It helped that the competitor shop's owner turned out to be the bad guy I was assigned by the Magic Council to stop. He was killing humans for his nefarious purposes. So now we were back in the black.

  I stepped into the kitchen to find Naomi talking amiably to someone on her cell phone. My skin prickled. It was her new boyfriend, Desmond Cohen — the guy who, together with Garrett, had run the competitor’s shop that almost brought us to ruin.

  Up until I faced Garrett, I had suspected Desmond was the culprit, but Desmond hadn’t been involved. In fact, he wasn’t even a supernatural, just an ordinary, innocent guy interested in the occult. He was devastated when I destroyed his business and his partner went missing. In my defense, Garrett had imprisoned me in the shop’s basement at the time.

  Of course, we didn’t tell Desmond I ruined his shop and killed Garrett’s minion members in their Wiccan club — the existence of our world was top secret. We told him a fierce storm that night destroyed his coven and shop. Garrett had gone missing and we didn’t know anything about him, which actually was the truth.

  We told Desmond all this in our kitchen over a cup of tea. Naomi used one of her potions to make him believe our story and stop him from questioning us any further. A hedge-witch, Naomi’s magic lay in inventing and preparing all sorts of potions and herbal mixes. Thank magic for her potion, otherwise Desmond would have never believed us. That night the weather had been clement — not a single cloud, let alone a storm to destroy his shop and kill his Wiccan coven brethren.

  After the tragic events Desmond moved to a nearby town and started to work in another occult shop. He and Naomi, however, kept in touch and began to forge a relationship. It was particularly strange to me, since Naomi had told me Desmond’s feel of dark energy put her off, but after I destroyed his shop and business she apparently changed her mind. I hoped she hadn’t started dating him out of pity — she had a strict rule that she must be attracted to anyone she dated.

  “Yes, I know, babe,” Naomi said quietly on her cell phone and fixed her eyes on me. I smiled at her and went to the cereal cupboard. I put some of it in a bowl, mixed it with yogurt, and sat down opposite her.

  “Okay, when can we meet?” She stood up and went through to the shop. It was closed until nine a.m. She didn’t want me to eavesdrop on her conversation with her lover. I tried not to let that bother me; after all, we are all entitled to privacy. How would I like it if she was privy to all my private conversations?

  With two spoonsful of my breakfast to go, she reappeared in visibly high spirits.

  “So, how did it go with the fae? Did you set his sexy ass on fire?” She chuckled, and I flashed her a dirty look.

  “No, I didn’t. But I fought his guardian dragon. Or rather pacified him," I replied.

  Naomi gaped and her eyes sprang open in shock. "You don't say! I want all the details!”

  I smirked and told her what happened. “He wanted me to use my goddess magic. He asked for Anumati’s necklace, and I gave it to him.” I touched it as if to assure myself it was still on my chest. “And then he summoned to life his guardian dragon.”

  Naomi almost choked at my last words. “His… what?”

  I explained about the dragon statue in the fae’s garden and our subsequent fight. She listened carefully, and at the end exclaimed, “Wow — good that you could subdue the dragon using your own magic. You never cease to amaze me, Miss Shaw. You can now mind-control dragons through music magic. Ha!" She playfully nudged me with her elbow. "And clever of Kagan to think of that challenge.”

  I beamed. “Yeah, I have a smart boyfriend, haven't I?”

  She chuckled. "He certainly brings out the best in you."

  I smiled and stood up. It was nearly nine a.m. and punctuality was very important when you worked for the Magic Council. I waved to my best friend, then took her teleportation charm and sprinkled it around me. A glittering silver cloud appeared, and I stepped inside it. I felt the familiar tug at my center, and the void took me.

  Chapter 2

  The magic portal delivered me in front of the Magic Council’s headquarters, a thirty-two-story glass building right in the heart of Manhattan but invisible to humans due to the special protective spell the Council’s chiefs had put on it. My colleagues had nicknamed it ‘the NYC’s Gherkin’ for its resemblance to the office building in London by the same name.

  The first floor held the reception desk. Farther down the corridor was a separate hall where all the training for investigators took place.

  I greeted the secretary — a friendly low-level fae — and she greeted me back. I liked her. Some of the supernaturals who worked here got drunk on their own self-importance and became arrogant and bitchy. Some said it was only a matter of time until we all got that way, but I thought it was down to the individual. It costs nothing to be kind.

  I stepped on the escalator to the second floor and was greeted by what appeared to be a normal office for humans. Wooden desks were groaning under the weight of computers and papers, and the sound of printing and keys tapping gave the room a sense of hustling business being done.

  I dodged the swarm of investigators and officers rushing to meetings and completing their latest cases. This was the part of the Council’s building where all investigators filled in their paperwork, like describing their investigations, logging their suspects’ interviews, keeping track of the fights with other supernaturals, and the like. The Council meticulously monitored everything its investigators did, to the smallest detail.

  I stepped on the industrial-grade dark blue carpet and strolled down the hall. As usual, I first greeted the clerk to my left. Her job was to monitor the duties of other investigators and served as IT support. When there was a glitch in the computer system, it was she who invariably fixed it. On the first day I saw her, my magic senses told me that she was a rabbit shifter. She greeted me in her normal reserved manner. She always kept to herself, but it was impossible for me to not notice that she was friendlier with some male investigators.

  I can’t say it didn’t hurt that most of my colleagues kept their distance from me when all I wanted to do was get to know them, but no matter how hard I tried, the wall between us remained solid.

  One day I couldn’t take it any longer and asked Brendan, my ex — a werewolf — what was going on, what was I not understanding about how people saw me. He explained that any new addition to the Council's team was treated with respect here, though we weren't fully trusted until we proved our worth. The majority of investigators were kind and helping to newcomers like myself, but the atmosphere in here felt like that of a secret society.

  I sighed and wished Brendan were here. He was the only friend I had here, and the only one actually helping me, but nowadays we seldom ran into each other. I'd met a few of my colleagues after work, but I could still feel that separation between us; they didn’t want to know the real me, and I didn’t feel I could trust them.

  Now I started to see why my mentor, Awen, had always warned me not to reveal my extra magic to anyone. Supernaturals, just like humans, envied each other for their superpowers and magic. The more powerful a supernatural was, the more likely they’d attract jealousy and hatred from others.

  I filled in my paperwork for the previous week in silence while the other supernaturals were chatting amiably. I focused on finishing my assignments, so I started on my investigator duties, as usual. There was a murder in Lower East Side. I’d been following the lead of a local succubus for a couple of days. Soon after, I had figured out the culprit and even caught him. It was a lecherous old wolverine shifter who had killed a younger wolf shifter over the said succubus.
r />   In the early afternoon, when I returned to the Council building to finish my remaining paperwork, I got an emergency call about a frenzied gang of demons fighting in the Bronx. The call, as all others, was a mental one. Usually, the Council assigned a particular shifter to each investigator, who communicated mentally with them, passing down orders straight from the chiefs. Or so we liked to think.

  The shifter who delivered messages mentally to me was a lady owl shifter with a nice, melodious voice. I never questioned her orders or wondered about them, but that day, when she told me to go to a particular address in the Bronx and kill a bunch of trouble-making demons alongside a mercenary from Chaos Corporation, I was stunned. It was highly unusual for the Council’s investigators to do such work. Getting rid of miscreants was the job of Chaos Corporation, not ours. We investigated supernatural crime activities and caught the perpetrators; we didn’t bring order, like the supernatural police cops. Also, demons were usually more resilient to harm and were harder to take down than, say, vampires, and this task would take more time.

  I wanted to question the owl shifter’s orders, but by the time I’d thought about it she had already ended the mental conversation with me. Since I didn’t possess the ability to communicate mentally with shifters — actually with any type of supernaturals — I couldn’t talk to her. Only supervisor Council investigators were given that power. In the case of shifters, it was their natural magic.

  I swore mentally. Short on options, I had to comply with the Council’s orders. Perhaps Chaos Corporation was at the moment lacking mercenaries so they were employing the Council’s investigators. Or the attacks were far too many for Chaos Corporation to handle on its own. My orders were to kill the demons since they hadn’t obeyed the first and foremost rule in our supernatural world: to hide their existence from humans. They could threaten us all by letting the cat out of the bag. The demons had been careless, and the Council’s chiefs took their offence extremely seriously.