Magic Burn: an Urban Fantasy Novel (Shifting Magic Book 2)

by Catherine Vale

  A cowed Quinn followed behind, though I knew his mood had less to do with the fact that I’d poked fun at Hogar’s name and more to do with him being put down in front of Catriona. Since I’d had zero alone time with my closest friend, I hadn’t been able to ask if she was aware that Quinn watched her like he wanted to carry her away and hoard her alongside a monstrous pile of treasures.

  From the somewhat flirtatious sway in her narrow hips, I suspected that she was aware of the special attention the dragon shifter gave her—and liked it.

  After Darius’s father had instructed him to unite the Sanctius clan with the Brisbane dragon shifter clan, the largest in the country, and perhaps the continent, we had been scrambling to shift course and ensure we still had time to meet up with Zayne when all was said and done. While Galen and Quell hadn’t been thrilled to learn we were now playing peacekeeper and unifier between the two clans, clans who had a history none of us were privy to yet, I had managed to persuade them, on my own, that this was for the best. If we could get two warrior clans of dragons on our side, we finally had an aerial squadron to combat Abramelin. Gargoyles would become less of an issue when huge winged beasts soared the skyways alongside them.

  While many of the bears in Colton and Liam’s clan, Ridgestone, were eager to do their part, they didn’t strike me as true warriors. They were happy with their small, cottage-y existence, but their primal instinct to protect their kin worked in our favor. However, the Sanctius clan had a legitimate armory for freakin’ dragons. Getting more of them on our side, united, ready to crush Abramelin’s goons, was worth rerouting our whole schedule—the Brisbane clan had been last on our list of visits initially, as there were several clans scattered between here and there—totally and utterly worth it.

  With the fae captains on board, which meant the rest of the militia was game, Darius and I had a day to get everyone ready to leave tomorrow morning. Just because this potential unification of the dragon clans was a good thing, didn’t mean we had a lot of time to devote to it. We were still on a schedule, one that was now slightly tweaked to allow for a detour.

  After following Darius inside the blacksmith’s shop, I realized that not only did the man have the most blacksmith-y name ever, but he was the epitome of a blacksmith in physicality too: he rivaled Darius in height and had arms the size of tree trunks. His beard, though tied together with three hair elastics, was the thickest, most lustrous beard I’d ever seen—salt-and-peppered, black with shades of gray. Grizzled yet strong, it was clear that this was his life’s calling.

  “A pleasure to meet you,” the shifter said after Darius had formally introduced us, yanking his thick gloves off and offering a hand to me. I took it, and he chuckled when my face lit up with surprise at how soft his hands were. “That’s always the response. My wife’s got a killer lotion.” He then wiggled his bushy eyebrows at Catriona. “She’ll kill me if I don’t use it, o’course.”

  Catriona laughed. I noted how she gravitated toward Quinn when he appeared by her side—and he toward her, closing the space between them without a word, their bodies within a breath of touching. I refocused my attention on Hogar, who was still talking about his wife’s demands, and tried to hide my frown.

  But seriously, though. Quinn and Catriona had just met. Unless something major had happened between when I last saw them on the dance floor and now, I couldn’t understand the connection.

  “I’d like to take Kaye on a tour of the armory,” Darius explained, “with your permission, of course.”

  “Hardly needed, lad,” Hogar insisted, and I swore I saw him bow a little in Darius’s direction.

  “She’s leader of the supernatural forces sent to mobilize us against our enemy—”

  “That fucking Archmage, right?” Hogar spat in the direction of a great stone fireplace, the first feature visible upon entering his workshop. The rest—the benches and tables and tools and kilns and fire pits—carried on farther back into the surprisingly bright workshop. The walls were lined with axes, arrows, and swords; clearly, all were made by the hands of the scowling shifter in front of me. He looked like he wanted to do more than just spit at the mention of Abramelin. “My weaponry might not be magical, but I think it’ll stand a strong chance against magic.”

  “There are many of us who can charm them to do more than just have a strong chance,” I offered. “I’d like to take stock of everything, then send a few of our better spellcasters your way this afternoon, if that’s all right?”

  “Of course, of course,” he said, gesturing toward the rear of the shop. “I’d be very interested to see what your lot can do to make improvements.”

  As Hogar led the way, I shot Darius an impressed look. Hogar was the exact reason you should never judge a book by its cover. He might be the epitome of some medieval blacksmith, all thick and muscular and hairy, but he seemed surprisingly open to outsiders sticking their noses in his business. I could think of many who would flip right out at the thought of someone tampering with what they crafted with their bare hands.

  With a hand falling to the small of my back, Darius and I followed Hogar out of the shop. Catriona and Quinn brought up the rear. We moved from the illuminated workspace to a dingy mountain cavern in the time it took for us to pass through a single door. Humid, moist air filled my nostrils with each breath, and I had to blink hard a few times, resisting the urge to call upon my enhanced senses, in an effort to get used to the darkness.

  Our march through the somewhat gloomy tunnel was brief, as it soon opened to an enormous underground hall—quite like the ones we had in the hive. Clearly, the clan had made good use of what nature had provided them, when they built their village within the magically concealed mountain range.

  “Wow…” My voice echoed through the cave, and I could practically feel Darius beaming at me. And why shouldn’t he be proud? Before me, was the most comprehensive armory I’d ever seen, including the ones my brother had stocked within the hive. Weapons of all kinds, from dated swords to modern firepower, all had their place upon a blend of wooden and metal shelves. It reminded me of a library, although instead of running my fingers over the spines of books, I found them ghosting over blades, handles, and quivers loaded with feathered arrows.

  “Did you make the guns too?” Catriona asked. We all ducked for cover when she lifted a pistol and pointed, one eye closed, in our general direction.

  “Maybe don’t…” Quinn hurried forward and gently pried it out of her hand. When she shot him a pout, he offered the most hapless, dopey smile I’d ever seen, in return. “You never know if it’s loaded or not.”

  “Oh.” Her cheeks colored as I shot her a well, no duh, girl kind of look. “Right.”

  “Most of the guns are imports,” Hogar said, a slight edge to his tone. “I’ve built a few myself, but I specialize more so in the older, more classic weaponry.” He pinned Catriona with a hard look. “And I ask that unless you know what you’re doing, you don’t touch.”

  Catriona made an X over her heart. “I promise to behave.”

  The wink she threw at Quinn did not go unmissed, nor did the smirk he shot back. I tried not to roll my eyes and made a note to grill her about all this flirting, later. It’s not that she couldn’t flirt, nor did I think I was the only one allowed to have a someone I could call my dragon, but Catriona told me everything. Feeling out of the loop wasn’t a welcome change in our dynamic.

  With the issue of refraining from touching what we didn’t know sorted, Hogar led us on a tour of the armory. He showed us the blades he was particularly proud of, along with shields and projectile weapons that would help in the fight against Abramelin.

  “My people can enchant the arrows to do more than just puncture,” I said as I inspected the sharp, deadly tip of one Darius handed me.

  “Arrows don’t guarantee death,” Darius agreed. “They hurt like a bitch and can possibly maim. Maybe the enemy will bleed out, but Kaye’s forces can ensure maximum damage.”

  “Now, that
I’d like to see,” Hogar told me, grinning. I smiled back, and although I could appreciate his enthusiasm, the bloodthirsty gleam in his eye was a bit unnerving.

  “Kaye, look!” Catriona snagged my hand as she rushed by, dragging me to the end of the aisle with a breathless smile on her lips. Just as I was about to ask what was up, I understood. The armory was endless, expanding into a museum-like setting with dragon skulls everywhere. A veritable dragon graveyard.

  “Fallen warriors and heroes from centuries gone by,” Darius said in my ear, making me jump. “Alphas from the past have been really obsessive about preserving history, so Hogar is charged with seeing to their care. I think he does a pretty fantastic job.”

  “They’re…” My vision swam, and my chest tightened; the sight of these skulls, the sheer size of them all, stirred something within me I hadn’t anticipated. Both haunting and inspiring, it was unlike anything I’d ever seen before in all my life—and very likely something I would never see again. If anything might encourage me to dig into my dragon roots, it was this.

  Darius’s hand curved around my waist, steering me toward him so he could press a kiss to my temple.

  “Yeah. They are,” Darius murmured. I nodded, pleased I didn’t have to explain my reaction; something in the way he held me, the way he kissed me, the way his voice rumbled so sweetly in my ear—he understood without me having to say a word.

  I could have stayed there forever, with Darius by my side. Maybe if we had time, I’d be able to come back and study each carefully preserved skull—to run my hands along the jagged edges of teeth, to examine the smooth bone, to feel as though I had a connection to these fallen heroes.

  Unfortunately, Catriona’s wandering attention span had the group moving again, and Darius and I reluctantly turned away from the graveyard to something I found equally interesting: two leather saddles.

  “These are…” I bit back a laugh, not wanting to insult Hogar. “Huge.”

  “Well, you need ‘em big if you want to ride a dragon,” the blacksmith boomed from some distance away; clearly his shifter hearing was fine, despite his aged appearance. “Those are just prototypes, though. I’m still working on ‘em.”

  His defensive tone wasn’t lost on me, and I immediately wanted to put him at ease. “They’re stunning, Hogar,” I replied with a sincere smile. “Great job. I can’t wait to see the final product.”

  “But do you really want people riding you? Isn’t it a bit… insulting?” Catriona asked, her eyes wandering over the massive leather seat before chancing a feel. Her expression morphed from polite curiosity to a welcome surprise. “Oh, it’s so soft.”

  “Only a dragon’s mate has the honor of riding him, or her,” Quinn explained. “It’s hardly an insult then.”

  I watched him watch her, eyes blazing with an open affection, and then looked to Darius to see if he saw what I saw. By the furrow of his brow, I figured he had.

  “Aren’t most shifter mates fated, or whatever the term is?” I asked, to which both dragons around me nodded.

  “Yeah, but that doesn’t mean the person you’re fated to be with must be a shifter too,” Darius replied, his lips curving into a smile. “We don’t choose who we’re fated to be bound with, and every so often, shifters are paired with supernaturals.”

  “Our dragon forms scald anyone that’s not a shifter,” Quinn continued, “so Hogar is also working on protective gear that will keep you from burning yourself when you touch us.” I noticed the bulge in his throat bob noticeably when our eyes met. Clearly Quinn would have no problem with Catriona climbing on his back and riding him.

  “I’ll never touch a dragon again,” Catriona said quietly. “I learned my lesson the hard way.”

  “You’ve… touched a dragon?” There was that gulp again, some color tinging Quinn’s cheeks. Darius and I exchanged amused looks before turning away in tandem, leaving the two to sort it out themselves.

  “Only for a second, and it was just Darius,” Catriona protested—a little too passionately, at that.

  Yeah. We were definitely going to have a talk before the day was done. My bestie had some explaining to do—stat.

  For there being twenty-four hours in a day, there never seemed to be enough time to do what I really wanted to do. When we finished with our tour of the armory, Darius and I had to go update Quell and Galen on all that we saw. Then, we needed to select the proper magic-wielders to go charm the weapons—those who wouldn’t be thrown by Hogar’s grizzled appearance were at top of the list. Quinn oversaw that, alongside Quell, while Galen and I worked with Darius to debrief the other dragon warriors who’d be traveling with us to the Brisbane clan tomorrow.

  While I had faith in Darius’s choices for the escort brigade, I secretly wanted to make sure there were no anti-supernatural opinions floating around that might jeopardize our mission. After all, just because the alpha family got along with the militia did not mean there wouldn’t be rogue sentiments out there. Good people could still make bad decisions when their prejudices were preyed upon. In times as tense as these, I felt I’d had a right to worry that someone might snap at an off-handed comment—and barbecue a fae or two in the process.

  However, after spending hours with the dragons Darius had chosen, I had faith that we had a good squad going with us. We were impressed with what they could do physically during sparring sessions with weaponry We admired their shooting skills down at the clan’s range, and watched a few shift into the gorgeous creatures that dwelled within.

  All that time spent doing those things ate into my day, until suddenly I went from discussing combat strategies to washing up for a slightly more formal dinner feast. This one was held in the alpha’s hall, and it was much more ceremonial, with long tables aplenty to fit the entire clan together in the crowded space. Still, it seemed no Sanctius dragon was to be left out; they even had a kid’s section at one end of a table, the dark wood covered with spills and dropped bits of dinner shortly after the feast began.

  Unlike last night, however, when I was buried at a table far from Darius, something I must have done had warranted me a seat at the head table with the Alpha family. With the militia filling the lone long table in front of me, I sat between Darius and Hayden, with Darius on his father’s right and his mother on the Alpha’s left. Quinn sat beside her, and the seat next to him was filled by a cousin I’d only met when the feast started—Drew—and hadn’t spoken to since.

  Now, about a half-hour into the meal, Khalon rose, tapping his one long index nail against his glass. Within seconds, the hall fell silent—save for a few of my supernaturals, but I caught Quell shushing them with a glare.

  “First,” the aged alpha said, his voice surprisingly clear and steady as it carried over the entire hall—unassisted by magic, at that, “let me welcome you all to my family’s home. As the head of this clan, there is no greater honor, no greater joy in my life, than to see you all here, happy and healthy, with good wine in your cups and delicious food in your bellies.”

  He pressed his wrinkled lips together as the clan erupted in cheers and applause, the loudest from the dragons on either side of me. I laughed, clapping right along with them, thrilled to see such an enthusiastic response from not just the clan, but from Darius too. Clearly, he and his father had used their alone time to settle some of their issues.

  “Second,” Khalon continued, and on the other side of him, I caught his wife Cynthia silencing everyone with a few gentle waves of her hand, like she was quieting a classroom of first graders, not a hall of dragon shifters. “We are most honored to be joined by our guests, the militia, led by half fae, half dragon—” More roars, which made my cheeks color profusely. I almost expected my militia to be surprised at the announcement, but then again, they had all sensed my heritage from the moment they met me. “—Kaye Allister. You all are welcome in this village, in this house, and in any house of any member of the Sanctius clan for as long as we all shall live. Your assistance in this conflict is most appreciat
ed, and will not be forgotten.”

  We all raised our glasses and toasted one another. Like I’d known from the second I walked into the hall, something about tonight was different than the welcome home feast yesterday. There was ceremony here. Tradition. After seeing the dragon skulls today, I felt touched that I could take part in it.

  As if sensing the faint twinge in my feelings, Darius’s hand settled on my thigh. It didn’t creep upward or caress inward. Instead, it just sat there, a comforting weight grounding me in the moment.

  “Tomorrow, as some of you may or may not know by now, this talented group of supernaturals will accompany my son, Darius, your future alpha—” More cheers, no less earthshaking this time. “—on a mission to unite our warriors with those of the Brisbane dragon shifters, so that we may ensure the Archmage known as Abramelin does not annihilate our kind.”

  After all that we’d done today, we were ready to go. I, however, wasn’t sure how I’d feel with dragons who weren’t linked to Darius. Something about it made my stomach turn, both with delicious anticipation and pulse-pounding nerves.

  “The journey will be perilous,” Khalon stated as a hush fell over the hall once more, the crowd bewitched by the old man’s words, “and I wish I could accompany you. Unfortunately, we all know that this old dragon is nearing the end of his days.”

  From the stricken looks on the faces in the crowd, it was obvious that despite his surly first impressions with me, Khalon was a beloved leader of this clan. I spared a quick glance at Darius; he had large shoes to fill, but I knew he could do it.

  Not that it wouldn’t be a lot of work, or anything. I wasn’t that delusional.

  My hand covered what it could of his on my thigh, and as his father spoke, our fingers knitted together.

  “With that in mind, I want it known, so there will be no contention when Darius returns from this parlay with the Brisbane clan,” Khalon set a weathered hand on his son’s shoulder, “and he will return… Darius is my true heir. He is the sole alpha successor for the Sanctius clan, and whether I have passed from this life to the next when he comes back to us, the ceremony to elevate him to alpha will commence. The rites will be observed. He will bathe in the flame. He will be your alpha.”