Curse of Iron

by D. D. Miers

Grayson sighed and ran his fingers through his dark, wavy hair as I pretended it didn’t make my pulse bump. “Right. You on site, Niall?”

  “En route.”

  “Well, so are we. Tell them I’m two minutes out.” I glanced at him as he took a hard left and another, itching to ask what I was about to see.

  “Um, Grayson?” I ventured carefully, “Is there anything you’d like to tell me before we get where we’re going?”

  He snorted and took a right so fast the tires squealed. “Is that the voice you use on repeat convicts when they come to you for bail?”

  “I usually end up speaking to family members, since the one needing bail is incarcerated at the time, but yeah, I guess I do choose my words carefully when I’m trying to ascertain flight risk.” He chuckled, and I waved my hand at him to continue. “But, back on topic, what do I do when we get there?”

  “You’ll stay in the car.”

  “Not bloody likely.” I flex my power just enough to remind him I’m not helpless. “I’m in more danger as a stationary target than I am from your people.”

  He screeched to a stop in front of a condominium and I staggered out of the car just as he hit the button to lock the doors. I’d never heard of the Piedmont, probably because the building was on the hill overlooking the water from a vantage point my clientele could seldom afford.

  “Stay behind me, and stay close to the door,” he huffed. “I can’t believe you actually want to see what’s going on inside."

  I didn’t understand how he could think I wouldn’t be curious. The building was quiet, no one going in or coming out, no cops blocking the narrow road out front with their lights flashing.

  “Can I tell you how super let down I feel right now? That call, your race car skills, I was expected a big old hairy brawl on the front lawn when we pulled up.”

  Grayson let out a booming laugh, deep sound that vibrated through my bones. “Do you witches have magic duels on the front lawn?”

  I arched an eyebrow at him and he laughed again. “Maybe just my cousin. Usually we have any kind of duels or challenges in the school where we’ve got everything warded to keep it from coming down around our ears.”

  He bowed at the neck and pushed the front door inward, gesturing me through. “Welcome to the Den.”

  It was pretty damn posh for something called "the Den", too. I stepped into the wide foyer softly lit by the biggest chandelier I’d ever seen outside the opera house. A set of frosted-glass French doors labeled Offices was directly to my right, and another without a label was to my left, and next to those doors were the mailboxes. A quick count gave me sixty apartments, but there was no elevator in sight.

  Grayson opened the door to the left and walked through, holding it so I could follow. Okay, I guess this is where I stay behind and try not to attract attention, I reminded myself and hugged the wall as we passed a gym full of training equipment and weights.

  “You can walk next to me," he huffed as he held another door for me. “I don’t have time to wait for you.”

  “Well, you were walking, you didn’t seem to be in a hurry, and I’ve recently found myself needing a new place, I thought I’d check it out.”

  He snorted derisively and shook his head. “Believe me, there’s no room for you here.”

  “Story of my freaking life, gorgeous.” I peeked around him as he opened yet another door. The doors were no longer frosted glass, and the rooms we passed through as we wound our way underground no longer pretended to belong to a civilized, human world.

  Roughhewn walls hung with torches and ahead of us, I could hear growling of bears and the ululating howls of wolves. “Fuck,” he hissed as he picked up the pace, jogging, then running full out to the pack ahead of him. I ran behind him, more afraid to be alone in that place and too stupid to turn tail and run back to the car the way I should’ve.

  I skidded just short of slamming into his back at one of the entrances that ringed the arena. The seats were full of werewolves and panthers, a bear, and several hyenas. Most had already shifted, as had the two grappling on the sand in the middle of the ring; a sign even I knew was bad news.

  “Stop!”

  Grayson’s bellow shook the room so hard I almost fell on my ass. Vines crept up my legs and held me steady, comforting me. Some of my fear ebbed out with those tender fingers of green magic that kept me upright even as several of the shifters stumbled or even fell out of their seats.

  “If it isn’t the would-be alpha himself,” sneered a woman from the far side of the sand. She leaned against the wall of the pit, her long legs crossed at the ankle, naked except for a chain that glittered around her waist. I hated her instantly, not because she exuded tangible evil, but in the way I’d always hated the hot girls in high school. The ones who aroused the males around them without effort and barely condescended to notice I existed, except to dump my books or find a new shitty rhyme to go with cur or pariah.

  “Get out of the ring, Shenna. You don’t belong down there. Not if this is a proper challenge.”

  She scoffed and boosted herself up the short wall, walking it like a tightrope until she stood over Grayson, putting his field of vision squarely on the small thatch of hair at the top of her thighs. “I live to serve, my liege.” I focused on my magic as I tried to ignore the hot flash of fury that threatened to erupt at her. He’s not yours, a voice deep inside me hissed, but I couldn’t tell if it was aimed at her, or me. You know things are looking to head south when you don’t understand your own inner voice.

  “Maybe I should go wait in the car,” I muttered to no one in particular, and the vines that had climbed my legs whispered back into the cracks in the stone ledge. I managed two quick steps back toward the arched doorway we’d come through before the naked shifter leapt off her perch and slammed me into the wall behind me, one clawed hand at my throat.

  “What the fuck are you?” she growled, her eyes glowing blue around the edges of her irises.

  “Just your local bond clerk, Sugar,” I quipped. “Do you always introduce yourself to other women like this, or did I just get lucky?” My hand moved of its own volition before I could stop myself and I bounced her right tit, horrified at my sudden insanity.

  Thankfully, I shocked her more, and she jerked back a second before Grayson grabbed her by the hair and threw her against the stone-carved seating. “Knock it the fuck off, Shenna. She’s with me. You touch her again, I take your hand.” From the way his lip curled, showing his teeth, I doubted he was suggesting going steady.

  “Hey,” I blurted. “Two guys, killing each other, and it looks like three more bloody bodies on the far side.” He glared at me. “Don’t look at me like that, I’m not one of your shifters. Do what you came to do, I’ll take care of myself, if necessary.”

  As a reminder I wasn’t entirely helpless, I called the tender shoots back and let them climb my body and encircle my arms. The power that flowed the room was pure life energy, sweet and light and nonthreatening, and it let me feel the too-still bodies on the far side of the room for signs of life, which were already weak and quieting even as the roots I had raised to cradle them grew.

  “What the fuck is that?” I heard among the murmurs that rose from the crowd.

  “Go get ‘em, jaguar-boy,” I chuckled, palms damp, and sweat beginning to drip down my spine. I moved closer to the edge of the platform above the ring, to keep Grayson in my line of sight and allow the shifters in the audience to see the greenery I’d made grow deep underground.

  The roots were easier, pulled from the rock they already lived in. They belonged to trees far above, and trailed down from the ceiling of the arena, curling under the three wounded shifters, and cocooning them in the life-force of the Fae.

  The female, Shenna, had lost interest in me the moment she realized I might not be a helpless opponent, and turned her attention back to the men in the ring, and I followed her gaze to Grayson, holding the two wolfmen apart as they shredded his shirt and the skin beneath.

/>   Frustrated, I sent a tremor through the rock, shaking the men in the pit just enough to throw them off balance. Grayson picked up one wolf and threw him out of the pit to shouts of, “Disqualified” and “Loser!”

  I glanced at the spectators, but none of them seemed to care I’d changed the playing field with my magic. All that mattered to them was the blood spilling into the earth below them. That blood soaked into the ground and called to me, whispering there was so much more I could do if I tapped into the power it held. You could kill them all, the disturbing voice sounded in my head like a gong, and I knew without question it was true.

  “Shit,” I muttered under my breath, and Grayson glanced up in my direction as though he’d heard me. “No,” I shouted as Shenna’s claws elongated and she drew back to swing them right at his spine. The blood magic rushed through me and I pushed a giant vine, thick as an oak trunk, out of the dirt, tossing her back like a rag doll.

  She landed on the platform near another of the archways and scrambled to her knees, crouching naked on all fours. The heat of her enraged stare made my stomach lurch and my legs want to give out, but I slowly withdrew my magic from the arena sand.

  Grayson laid the remaining shifter on the ground. “Where’s the doc?”

  “I’m here,” a portly man pushed past me and leapt down into the arena as gracefully as Grayson had. Another shifter, one who smelled like green things and earth, stopped at my side and pointed at the men across the pit from us.

  “Was that you?” he asked, his voice familiar, warm, and lilting.

  “You must be Niall,” I grinned in relief. “Yes, the green magic was me. They were fading, I just gave them a little nudge back in the right direction until help could get here.”

  “Strange, I thought Gray pegged you as our murderer,” he said, the words harsh through his clenched teeth. Suddenly, a dozen or so pairs of shifters turned and stared at me, and the relief fled my body, replaced by barely controlled panic.

  “Well if he did, he was wrong,” I replied, forcing my voice to remain cheerful. “I’m a priestess of Dana, not Morrigu.” He didn’t reply, and I risked a glance at him, only to see him watching me with a half-smile. “What?”

  “You serve the Celtic goddesses.”

  “My father is a High Fae nobleman, who else would I worship?”

  “Ain’t ya half witch though?” his tone had softened, but I could feel his eyes searching deep inside me.

  “Oy, I’ve told my life story too many times already today. You want to know the amazing story of the fairy cur, you can buy me dinner first.”

  I hadn’t meant it to be flirtatious, but he leaned in close, his breath tickling my ear. “We can go now, if you want to ditch the old man,” he whispered. I shivered from his proximity, making him chuckle. The sound was all masculine, and almost predatory, and it reminded me I was among creatures I knew far too little about.

  “Thanks, but I’ll have to raincheck. I promised Grayson I wouldn’t leave his side until we’d found our murderer.”

  He ran his fingers through my shoulder-length hair, pushing it behind my shoulder as he did. “Then I will see you around, fairy princess.” I flinched, and he laughed again, though I was certain he didn’t know the real reason I’d jumped.

  No one knew exactly who my father was. It was the one piece of advice from Aunt Portia I’d continued to follow when I finally was old enough I could escape her clutches. Morgana, if the other tribes knew you were the daughter of Lord Emery Storm, King of the High Fae, your life would be worth less out there, than it is among the Wicca.

  She was a bitch and a half, but I was smart enough to know some things weren’t worth the risk. I’d barely survived my childhood. I wasn’t about to let her win after I’d finally begun to make a life for myself free of the daily threat of death or pain.

  Eight

  As suddenly as he’d taken off to deal with the shifters, Grayson was at my side, dragging me back the way we’d come. I had released the men from their makeshift root hammocks into the care of the balding doctor and several shifters who jumped up to help him once the fight was over.

  Money had changed hands too, but it disappeared the moment my companion appeared at my side. “Getting you out of here before you do any real damage.”

  I raised my eyebrows at him. “No, really, it was nothing. I was happy to save your ass and keep your, uh, packmates alive until medical help arrived,” I snapped at him. “As always, anything I can do for you is always my pleasure.”

  He’d grabbed my arm and bounced me out of the stone corridors and up to the surface like an unruly toddler. “What part of keep your head down and stay out of the way do you not understand?”

  “The part where I could help, and you needed it, I guess.” He pushed me up against one of the floor-to-ceiling windows in the gym room. “I didn’t hurt anyone, Grayson, and your guys, they needed medical attention. They were close to death.”

  He sighed and pressed his hips against mine to pin me as he handcuffed my wrists above my head. “I’m impressed by the power you showed,” he said as his free hand swiped down my sides and front, and down my thighs. I knew he could feel the outline of my athame sticking out of my boot when he released my hands and crouched in front of me.

  Instantly, a hot, sexy mini-movie starring the Greek shifter began in my head. I sucked in a breath and stared at the ceiling. “You really should’ve patted me down before we came in, don’t you think?”

  “You’re good at looking harmless. I forgot myself.” The tone of his voice assured me he wouldn’t forget again.

  “And yet, I saved lives, no killing, and I even refused to go to dinner with your hot Irish friend.” I lightly punched his arm as he stood, so I could meet his eyes without blushing too hard. “Give a girl some credit for being good, you know?”

  He frowned at me and gave me a gentle push toward the door. “You really don’t have any clue how much danger you’re in, do you?” I scoffed and lengthened my stride, beating him to the car by mere seconds despite his much longer legs. “Did I hit a nerve?”

  In one smooth motion I slid the straps of the dress I was wearing down, pushing It around my waist and pivoted for him, undoing the strapless bra, and leaning forward so he could see the scars crisscrossing my back. I heard his sharp intake of breath and I put myself back together in silence without turning.

  When I faced him again, the distrust in his face was replaced with pity, which was far worse. “The Fae don’t scar, Mister Xenos,” I hissed, standing on tiptoe to meet him eye to eye. “Every one of those scars was punishment for surviving another attempt on my life by my own family, and a reminder I will never belong among my father’s people, either.”

  I opened the car door and got in, slamming it shut before he could say anything. It took him a moment to join me. When he did he was quiet, starting the car and sitting there like he had before, just thinking.

  “I need to find a place to stay.”

  “I’m sorry your people harmed you.”

  “Me too.” I buckled the seatbelt, hoping he’d start driving and stop talking. “Just don’t be too surprised if I see monsters everywhere. I know what people are capable of.”

  “Stay with me.”

  I scoffed and shook my head without even thinking about it. “Oh hell no. I’d like to wake up in the morning, thanks.”

  “So where am I taking you?”

  I groaned and kicked my feet back against the seat, feeling a little like the child he’d been treating me as. “My place. I need to get back into my place. I can’t sleep anywhere else.”

  “You’ll be able to sleep there?”

  I glanced at him, grateful his voice was compassionate, not disgusted. “It’s a two bedroom. I’ll sleep on the Murphy bed in the office.”

  “Then I’ll stay with you. I can keep an eye on you, and watch your back, too.”

  I didn’t answer him, just gave him the address, and let him work his way through the city toward my apar
tment. I couldn’t explain why, but my body reacted to every scent on his, from the dried blood on his already healed wounds, to the under scent of wild cat I’d caught on him before. It wasn’t just my recent self-imposed dry spell, either. His magic made mine flare unexpectedly, filled me in a way I'd never had with the covens.

  “You’re being quiet. You aren’t thinking of a spell, are you?”

  I snickered at him, “Double, double, toil and trouble…no Grayson, I’m not working magic.” He chuckled at me and I tried to explain a little, even though my face was getting hot with embarrassment. “My magic has been acting weird, making me feel different.”

  “From what you’ve told me, it could be a good thing.”

  “But I was in the bar last night, surrounded by shifters, and nothing happened.”

  With the flick of a thumb, he turned down the music, so it was just a low murmur under the conversation. “That’s my fault.” He glanced at me, waiting for a response, but I just shrugged. “That place I took you, it has power all its own, and we’ve protected our power with wards and runes meant to stop you if you meant us harm.”

  “Dana strike you down,” I gasped. “Don’t you understand how rune and ward magic works? I could’ve been burnt to a crisp the second I crossed over them.”

  He shrugged one shoulder and my attraction to him cooled considerably. “It was one of the reasons I told you to wait in the car.”

  “Right. In hindsight, it would’ve been a good place to hang out while you guys killed each other.” My mind whirled at the knowledge I’d been so stupid. It’s almost like you have a death wish, dumbass. “Wait. I didn’t even get a tingle from the runes, and I’m witch enough to at least sense magic. Who the hell put those in for you?”

  “Ah, a witch named Rowan did. She was a priestess of the covens before I was on the coalition. She and Gideon were friends, they both wanted more blending and equality between the different communities. She was trying to end the ban on intermarrying…”

  “She even offered herself to the Fae as part of the truce between our tribes.” I interjected, the story as familiar to me as my own name. It was, after all, my story.