Psychic's Spell (Legion of Angels Book 6)

by Ella Summers

  The fanciest restaurant in town was literally called the Silver Platter. I wasn’t sure if the name was genuinely pretentious or was instead meant as a halfhearted jab at pretentious people everywhere.

  The restaurant was actually pretty nice, especially for one in a rugged Frontier town. As we entered through the massive double doors, the high vaulted ceiling looming above us, Tessa and Gin let out a collective sigh of delight.

  We’d never been past these gilded doors before. The closest we’d gotten was the Mermaid’s Lagoon next door, the town’s second fanciest restaurant. And we’d only gone there when we had a very special occasion to celebrate—or when we had a very big payday to spend.

  But there was no comparison. The Mermaid’s Lagoon was a nice, cozy place with comfort food like fried chicken and mashed potatoes. It was delicious comfort food, but it was comfort food nonetheless. The Silver Platter was in a whole other league. The menu was dominated by dishes I couldn’t pronounce, and I was sure there were at least a few too many digits on the end of all the prices.

  The tables were made of massive, thick rustic wood—expensive rustic, not dirty and run-down rustic. The benches were made from the same wood. Magic fires burned in the hearths, created by mixtures of expensive designer potions. Overhead, the candlelight consisted of thousands of tiny magic baubles. Out here where Magitech was scarce and expensive, that was an enormous splurge. It was no wonder the prices were so high.

  The Silver Platter was where the VIP visitors of Purgatory went, people like the upper echelon of the paranormal soldiers’ organization. This place was designed for people to whom money was not an issue.

  As we were led to our table, my senses were bombarded with the smell of wood fires and a gentle earthy and sweet scent that made me desperate to eat now. I was so hungry that I was half-tempted to storm the kitchen and steal the steaks right off the grill.

  “This place is awesome,” Gin whispered.

  “Did you see the silverware?” Tessa gasped as we sat down. “It’s real, actual silver.”

  Tessa had an eye for design, for fashion, for anything pretty and fancy basically. She had an appreciation of finer things, and the ability to tell the difference between them and cheap knockoffs. She could see where corners had been cut, or where no expense had been spared. Her love of pretty things and pampering made her a true princess at heart. Calli had often said that Tessa would have to find herself a prince to marry because we certainly couldn’t afford her fine taste.

  Gin gently tapped the wall behind our table. “The walls are made of actual stone. It’s not just a veneer.”

  Building with stone out here on the Frontier was exorbitantly expensive, so only people with money to burn did it. I wasn’t surprised the Silver Platter was a member of that elite club.

  Like Tessa, Gin appreciated nice things, but her taste was more down-to-earth, more practical. She wouldn’t wear something pretty if it wasn’t also practical. She wanted both. And she wasn’t afraid to get her hands dirty. It wasn’t uncommon to find her covered in motor oil in our garage, fixing up the vehicles or trying to figure out some gadget by taking it apart. She would keep disassembling something until she figured out how to rebuild it in the perfect way.

  “Even the menus look expensive,” Tessa commented.

  I looked down at my menu, a piece of delicate art canvas set over a wooden board. The Silver Platter’s decorator sure had an eye for detail; the board was made of the same wood as the furniture.

  “The text moves!” Gin exclaimed.

  Her squeal of delight drew a few reproving stares from the high brow clientele.

  I glanced down at my menu. The dishes were handwritten onto the paper in graceful, calligraphic strokes. I tapped my finger against the edge of the canvas, and the text scrolled to the next page of the menu. It was like a phone screen. The menu must have been penned in magic ink—movable, dynamic ink.

  But my wonder was cut short by the sight of the guest a few tables down from ours. It was the district lord in the royal blue cowboy boots I’d seen earlier this evening. Well, he’d changed outfits since then.

  The blue-booted district lord was now dressed in a very expensive, very shiny white silk suit. Despite the color and the dusty state of the streets outside, his suit was spotless. He was showing off that he could walk around this rugged Frontier town, and yet his clothes remained immaculate.

  But the district lord wasn’t the source of my sudden lack of appetite. It was the man sitting at his feet, chained to an ivory column. Dressed in a simple cotton tunic, he wore no shoes. His eyes were hungry, his cheeks concave, as though he hadn’t eaten in days. And yet the district lord’s dog was devouring a steak from a crystal dish.

  The man was eyeing the dog’s dinner with hunger, watching in perfect silence, obviously too afraid to move, to try to snatch even the tiny pieces of meat that sprinkled the floor as the dog messily consumed its dinner.

  Frontier towns were full of these poor souls, indentured servants who’d come here for a new life, a fresh start, all paid by a generous district lord. The price of this generosity: their life was not their own for ten whole years. They were handled like animals. No, worse than animals. The district lords’ beloved dogs received better treatment.

  Seeing that poor man chained to the column didn’t just turn my stomach. It boiled my blood. I was so furious. I had to do something to end his inhumane treatment—something like set that smug district lord’s spotless suit on fire. Then it wouldn’t be so spotless anymore.

  Nero caught my hand under the table. “Don’t kill him.”

  “I wasn’t going to kill him. I was just going to set him on fire a little.”

  “We cannot interfere unless we are threatened or the gods’ order is disrupted,” he reminded me.

  “How can that atrocity not be a disruption of the gods’ order?” I hissed under my breath. “It is an affront to all that is still good and decent in this world.”

  “Setting the district lord’s suit on fire won’t solve the problem. And it certainly won’t help his servant.”

  Nero was right. If anything, the district lord would use his spontaneous combustion as an excuse to punish the starving man further.

  I took calming breaths, trying to slow my racing pulse.

  “He will get what’s coming to him,” Nero told me.

  “When?” I demanded. “And how many lives will he ruin before that day comes?”

  “You can’t right every wrong.”

  Maybe not. But I damn sure well was going to try.

  “Maybe you could save this one man by killing his master. You might even get away with it without the Legion finding out. But then what?” Nero asked. “The contract he signed is legally binding. It would be transferred to the next of kin. The man would still not be free.”

  I frowned. This system was so broken.

  “Patience,” Nero said calmly.

  I frowned. “Your favorite immortal virtue.”

  “It will all turn out in the end.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I just do.”

  His magic wrapped around me like a blanket, warm and comforting. I didn’t resist. I allowed his magic to calm me. No, I couldn’t walk up to the district lord and punch him in the face. It would just land me in trouble. He would call in his thugs, and my family would rise to defend me. That would land them in trouble too. But someday, one way or another, I would put an end to this.

  I tried to distract myself with the menu—and the exquisite smells wafting out from the kitchen.

  Tessa was looking through the menu with delight, completely oblivious to the atrocity playing out behind her.

  “Leda, these prices are outrageous,” Gin whispered to me.

  “Not when you take into account how much it costs them to run this place.” Tessa glanced at the magic lights, the fire, the menu.

  Gin wasn’t convinced. “Still, our last job paid well, but not this well.”

  Th
e way she looked around the room was analytical. Her delight at the posh surroundings faded to concern. Calli had been teaching Gin to do our bookkeeping. She always looked at how much something cost and then weighed whether or not it was worth it, whether or not the family could afford it. Tessa, on the other hand, appreciated things for the sheer luxury. She was not unaware that they were expensive. In fact, she was acutely aware of it, and she appreciated them even more for the fine details that added cost allowed. She just didn’t tend to dwell so much on how to pay for them.

  “Don’t worry about it,” I told Gin as the district lord and his entourage left. “I’m paying, remember?”

  “Leda, do you know how much—”

  “I said not to worry about it. We haven’t all gone out together in a long time.”

  And it wasn’t like I needed the money. The Legion paid well, a consequence of me putting my life on the line nearly every day.

  I’d offered to set up my family somewhere safe and nice where they wouldn’t have to work, but Calli was too proud to take it. She had agreed to let me pay off Bella’s pricey tuition at the New York University of Witchcraft, but she hadn’t taken a single cent more from me. She’d said the girls had to learn to work for their own money.

  Also, Calli and my little sisters refused to leave Purgatory at the mercy of the district lords. If they didn’t take the jobs of catching criminals, the district lords would sweep in and take care of it like knights in shining armor.

  Except evil lay behind that armor. Every time the people of Purgatory took their help, the town became even more dependent on them. Soon, the district lords would reign supreme over all justice—which meant there would be no justice left to speak of.

  Calli’s cause was a noble one for sure. So I didn’t tell her that I sometimes funded the bounties on the jobs she and my sisters took. I’d talked to the sheriff of Purgatory to arrange my secret donations. The sheriff’s office was seriously underfunded, so there wasn’t much money in the bounty kettle.

  Tessa’s eager gaze scanned the menu. “Leda, you are my favorite sister.” She literally had stars in her eyes.

  “For the next five minutes.”

  Tessa beamed at me. “Five minutes? No, I figure your favorite sister status will last at least until the end of the meal.”

  I snorted. At least Tessa was always honest.

  The waiter came, and we ordered. Later, when our food arrived, Nero looked approvingly at his steak. He was clearly much more content with his fancy food than with the cotton candy I’d given him earlier.

  “More to your liking?” I asked.

  “Yes.” He added in my mind, You are to my liking.

  The smirk on my lips died, a vision flashing through my head. Dessert. Two pieces of chocolate cake lay abandoned on the table. Nero’s fangs teased my neck. As they broke the surface of my skin, my breath stalled. Wildfire flashed through my veins, awakening my body. Every nerve ending tingling, I grabbed him and—

  I shook my head, clearing the visions from it. Beside me, Nero gave me a knowing, self-satisfied smile. He’d projected those images into my head, and his ego was now basking in the consequences.

  “Whoa, Leda, what is going on with your hair?” Tessa gasped.

  Checking out my reflection in the windows, I saw that my hair was glowing. Again. Damn it. I patted it down with my hands, like I was trying to put out a fire. I really needed to gain some control over my hair. It was like a big flashing billboard advertising everything I was feeling to anyone who cared to watch.

  “It’s just something it does sometimes,” I said, as the last of the glow faded.

  “Around angels?” Tessa asked eagerly.

  I looked at Nero. “Only when they’re aggravating me.”

  He looked completely confident in his knowledge that he was at the top of the food chain.

  “Angels,” Tessa sighed with doe eyes. “You should have invited more angels to dinner.”

  She didn’t seem to realize that you didn’t invite angels. They came when they wanted to, whether they were invited or not. And they didn’t come when summoned.

  Like most eighteen-year-olds, Tessa had stars in her eyes when it came to angels. She loved them. She read fan fiction about them. She religiously followed the angel sightings and gossip columns in the tabloids.

  “Don’t go chasing angels, Tessa. They’re dangerous,” I told her.

  “You’re one to talk.” Her gaze flickered to Nero, then back to me.

  “That’s different,” I countered. “And I didn’t chase Nero.”

  “You stole Calli’s motorcycle to chase off after him across the Black Plains,” Gin pointed out.

  “To rescue him.”

  “I fail to see how that’s relevant,” Tessa said. “Did you or did you not cross a monster-infested prairie and break into a rogue vampire stronghold to get to him?”

  “I—”

  “Did,” Gin finished for me. “And you disobeyed orders to go after him too.”

  “How could you two possibly know about that?” I demanded.

  Gin shrugged. “Calli told us the Legion would never send a newly-initiated soldier all alone to rescue an angel.”

  I looked at Calli.

  “Well, they wouldn’t,” she said. “It’s not privileged information. Everyone knows that, Leda.”

  “Just as everyone knows the Legion disciplines their misbehaving soldiers.” Tessa turned her eager eyes on Nero. “Did you punish her for her transgression?”

  “For which transgression? You’re going to have to be more specific. She transgresses every day.”

  I glowered at him. “Haha. Very funny.”

  “There’s nothing funny about disobeying orders, Pandora. Especially, when they’re my orders.”

  Tessa fanned herself. Oh, good grief.

  “But to answer your question, yes, I did discipline her for going across the Black Plains,” Nero told her.

  “That’s kind of backwards, right?” Gin said. “She rescued you, and you punished her. You should have rewarded her.”

  “That’s what Leda said.”

  “So what was her punishment?” Tessa asked him. “Like running laps or something?”

  “Among other things.”

  “I heard he pinned her down,” Bella volunteered.

  “Hey, not you too!” I protested, the bitter taste of betrayal thick on my tongue.

  Bella was usually more reserved, less into teasing than the rest of us, but maybe engaging in the banter was just what she needed to counter the stress she was under. And it had been so long since we’d all been together.

  Tessa and Gin looked at Nero with wide, adoring eyes, eager to hear more. When he did not oblige, they turned their gazes on me.

  “He pinned you?” Gin asked me.

  “To the ground?” Tessa added.

  “Before you say more, wipe those smirks off your faces,” I said, blushing. “Nero sat on me, counting out my pushups as I performed them. Lots and lots of pushups. And if you two want to experience the specifics of that unpleasant exercise for yourself, I will sit on you while you do pushups. We’ll start with an easy five hundred and go from there.”

  “You can’t make us do pushups,” Tessa protested, pouting out her lower lip.

  “I wouldn’t bet on that.”

  Tessa paled, if only a little. Gin was silent. They’d been subdued. Finally. But Calli was not. She was laughing so hard that people from the other tables were staring at us like we were a mobile circus.

  “Sorry,” I said to Nero, sighing. “That’s my family, always the center of attention. People gawk at us wherever we go.”

  “I’m used to people gawking at me.”

  Of course he was. He was an angel. People stopped and stared whenever he entered the area. When he walked amongst mortals, he was always the center of attention.

  “So you could say you two are a match made in heaven,” Tessa said. “In fact, I’ve never seen such a perfect couple.”
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  I didn’t like where this was going. She was plotting something.

  “Remember what we were discussing earlier, Leda? About the acrobats?”

  She wouldn’t dare.

  Tessa looked at us and said seriously, “So, when’s the wedding?”

  I nearly choked on my wine.

  Nero remained silent, watching with perfect calmness as I suffocated on my own embarrassment. Even as I coughed, I sent him a mental apology for my family’s improper behavior.

  No need. They are not my soldiers. Nor are they yours.

  “Tessa, that’s enough. This is neither the time nor the place for this,” Calli chastised her.

  “So when is the time and place for this?” Tessa countered.

  “I don’t know, but I suppose you’ll corner Leda as soon as we get home.”

  Tessa gave me a devilish look that promised she’d do just that.

  “I don’t think you’re helping,” Bella told Calli.

  “Who said I was trying? Leda doesn’t need my help. She never did. She can take care of herself.”

  Calli believed in tough love, in making you stand up for yourself. She gave me a proud look, a look that made me forget all my embarrassment. My heart swelled with happiness at her approval. She respected me. For that, I could put up with a little teasing.

  A heavy crash, the sound of metal hitting the marble floor, echoed up the stairwell from below. The clamor was immediately followed by complete silence, even as the note of the clinging metal slowly faded out. Something was wrong downstairs.

  I couldn’t see what was going on from up here. I’d have to get closer. On instinct, I reached for the knife hidden inside my boot.

  Nero looked relaxed on the outside, but beneath the shield of his body, he was alert, ready to move. He could knock everyone in the restaurant to the ground in under a second, using only his psychic magic. His telekinesis was that powerful. I should know. I’d only been on the receiving end of it for months now as he tried to build up my resistance to that branch of magic. That was how you trained a new magic power: by building up your resistance to it. The other component of preparing for the gods’ next gift was building up your willpower. Altogether, that equaled training—lots and lots of training.