by K. M. Shea
Gavino and the others hustled through, rushing across the garage-like floor without stopping. Gavino nearly skidded out when we hit the lobby area, and for a moment the room spun as he tried to regain his footing.
“Out the doors,” Killian snapped. The bright light had reached the loading area, its pulse of magic as bright as the sun as it mercilessly descended on us.
“We’ll set off the security systems I couldn’t shut down,” Josh piped in.
“It’s a little late for an alarm system,” I sourly said, squeaking when Gavino rammed the metal gate that divided the lobby at full speed.
Two other vampires sliced straight through the gate bolts with glowing swords, making the massive structure fall. Julianne grabbed a chair and flung it at the front window—it bounced off without so much as chipping the surface.
Julianne said a very naughty word from modern slang I was pretty surprised she had learned.
Behind us, the magic light reached the far end of the lobby, cutting us off from the stairway we’d taken down from the second floor.
“Stand back!” I leaned over Gavino’s shoulder and rammed the window with magic, cracking it. The second blow punched a head sized hole through, and my third try blew the window out with a bang that made my ears ring.
The light was close enough that the rumble made Gavino stagger a few steps, and the heat was almost unbearable.
“Out!” Killian snarled.
The vampires whisked outside. Celestina was last, jumping through the window with the light so close behind her it brushed the lock of her hair that was the last to pass through the window, making it bright gold before it disintegrated into ash.
Celestina glared at her ruined hair, then glanced at Killian. “I thought you said Tutu lowers the strength of her defenses on test nights so instead of auto-killing her contracted thieves it stuns them.”
Killian shrugged. “She must have forgotten to do it.”
“Likely story,” Gavino muttered.
“Any bets that she was mad he called in this favor?” I slid off Gavino’s back, landing on the ground with a stagger I felt from my heels to my knees.
“On the best of days dragons don’t like giving up treasure under their protection,” Julianne said.
I unzipped my pouch, confirming the jewelry box was still there. “Even though it belongs to me?”
“Even then.”
I clutched the velvet box in one hand and used the other to tug at my black jacket, trying to peel it off my sweaty skin.
The deadly orange light still flooded the lobby at Tutu’s, and I could feel its malevolent intention straining against the building.
Sirens wailed—it sounded like a police car, but it was pretty likely the Curia Cloisters were sending someone out to investigate, too. (There was no way we hadn’t just alerted all of those with magic in the mile radius—Tutu’s defensive spell was too overpowering to even think about cloaking.)
“Check in with the First and Second Knight,” Killian declared. “Then prepare to leave—we’re pulling out before those guards wake up.”
Gavino frowned. “They survived that?” He beckoned back at the still-glowing lobby.
“Tutu’s people are all granted immunity to her spells during their shifts,” Killian said.
The vampires meandered toward the knights. I, however, stepped closer to the street. There was a faint magical signal. It was nearly unnoticeable thanks to the blazing sun of magic behind me, but it was a faint itch I couldn’t scratch.
I closed my eyes as I tried to isolate the feeling. Was it wizard magic? Dragon shifter magic? Or something else…
I wouldn’t have known Killian came to stand by me, except that he sighed slightly.
“There’s something out there,” I said. “I think it’s fae magic.” I peeled my eyes open and squinted into the darkness.
“There.” Killian pointed to an alleyway.
I saw a flash of light—the fae magic I think—that briefly illuminated a willowy figure as it retreated.
“The Night Court?” I asked.
“Most likely,” Killian said.
I clutched my jewelry box. “They sure are obsessed with you.”
Killian turned to address his underlings. “Rupert,” he said. “You’re with me. The rest of you, go. We’ll meet back at Drake Hall once we finish here.”
I thought I kept my mouth shut tight enough, but Killian must have heard my noise of protest. He swung back around to face me. “We’ll need a way to get back, and Rupert drove here.”
“So did Celestina and Josh.”
“They need to watch over the others.” Killian didn’t even look both ways before he strode across the street. “Keep up, Hazel.”
“Didn’t we already have enough fun for one night?” I pointedly looked up and down the street, then jogged after him.
Rupert trailed behind me, his expression watchful as he joined us at the mouth of the alleyway.
“Fae scout,” Killian told Rupert. “We’ll follow it for a little while, but keep our distance—it could be an ambush.”
“The Night Court needs hobbies. Or something more to do.” I picked my way through the alleyway trash—which reeked of dirty diapers. “How can they possibly have this much time on their hands?”
“Poor rulers who lack ambition but have ample amounts of pride,” Killian answered.
We popped out of the alley and followed the fae’s trail—or what Killian assured me was the fae’s trail—through a zigzag of blocks, until we came to a small courtyard.
“I feel magic again,” I announced as I stood at the courtyard edge.
“Fae?” Killian asked.
“No. Wizard magic?” I scrunched my nose as I tried to pin down the feeling.
“Are you sure you aren’t sensing your own magic?” Rupert asked.
I frowned at him. “How would that even be possible?”
“Inferior skills.”
“Could the two of you stop shouting like angry seagulls?” Killian sauntered into the courtyard and turned in a slow circle, inspecting the area.
Not quite able to let it go I whispered, “Sensing magic isn’t a skill, but a sensitivity.” I stalked after Killian. “And whatever this faint whiff is, it isn’t—fae magic!”
Light blasted the courtyard, and the overwhelming scent of rosewater filled my nose and mouth so it felt like I was drowning in a bath. Vines made of light unfurled and curled across the stone courtyard, a visible representation of the fae spell.
Only certain kinds of fae magic affected wizards, so even though I felt the ground spell pull at me, I staggered back to the edge of the courtyard, coughing.
Killian was stuck in the center with Rupert a few feet behind me.
I hadn’t brought my sword to break into Tutu’s—Killian told me it would only get in the way—so I gathered lightning in the palms of my hands as I tried to find the fae responsible for the trap.
“It’s so good to see you again, Hazel. It’s been too long.”
My heart fell into my stomach at the familiar, charming voice.
Chapter Eleven
Hazel
Mason stepped out of the shadows, his face illuminated by the silver of the moon in the sky, and the glowing fae spell. He smiled at me and nodded to Killian and Rupert. “I didn’t think you’d be keeping such illustrious company.”
“Let them go, Mason.” My voice was so harsh I almost didn’t recognize it, and I let my magic pool at my feet so lightning ringed around me.
“Certainly.” Mason held his hand out. “Once you pass over the signet ring.”
Something twisted in my chest, but I managed to screw my face into a look of confusion. “What? Do you think the ring appeared to me in a vision from my parents or something and now I magically have it? No!”
“I have recently made ties with a very powerful new ally. They happen to have an interest in the Drake Family, so I know you broke into Tutu’s.” Mason bowed his head to Killian.
“Exactly how debt-strapped have you made House Medeis?” I prodded a light vine with a toe. “You must owe nearly every House in the city a favor or two already. Can you really pay this back?”
“That’s no concern to you,” Mason said. “Hand over the signet ring you just retrieved from Tutu’s, or Killian Drake will die.”
I laughed. “You think you can kill Killian Drake? Even when he’s caught in the fae spell he’s probably one eyebrow-twitch away from killing you.”
Killian appeared almost bored by our conversation and quirked an eyebrow when I mentioned his name.
I had to wonder for a moment—did he have a way out? I could feel the binding of the fae spell. His mint tin could dissolve the magic, but he couldn’t move to get it.
“It is likely if I approached Killian he’d break free somehow,” Mason said. “But that’s why I have this.”
Mason dropped what looked like a gob of ruby red slime on the ground. It bubbled and frothed until it expanded so it was about the size of a bathtub and sank beneath the fae spell holding Killian and Rupert in place. It circled the courtyard, slowly closing around Killian.
It radiated an ancient, wild magic. I had no idea what had created this…thing. It didn’t smell like fae or dragon shifter magic. It might be wizard magic, but the spell was so old and twisted I couldn’t tell. I could feel ancient magic radiating from it, peppered with a deep, soulless hunger.
A tiny bolt of my magic leaped into the fae circle, and the ancient magic snapped on it, greedily swallowing it.
“Vampires don’t use magic, but it’s still in them,” Mason said. “Soon, the spell will latch on to your friends and eat them whole. Unless you give me the signet ring.”
“You’re crazy,” I said. “The Drake Family will track you until the end of time and make you suffer so much you’ll break!”
“No they won’t.” Mason’s smile was affectionate as he studied me. “Because you won’t let him die.”
I stared at the ground and watched the deadly spell lurk a few feet away. It hadn’t moved beyond the bounds of the fae spell—it looked like it was stuck there. I inched the toe of my boot into the circle the fae spell made.
Immediately the red glob shot in my direction, slamming to a halt when it reached the boundary of the spell.
It seemed it was attracted to the biggest magical signature. Given my ability to wield magic, mine was obviously stronger than Killian’s or Rupert’s. It would know the instant I stepped inside the fae spell. I couldn’t rescue them—not without a distraction.
“Hazel.” Mason’s voice started to harden. “Stop stalling, and give me the ring.”
I swallowed hard, my hands turning clammy as I fished the jewelry box out of my pouch with shaking hands. It was my birthright, a centuries old treasure of House Medeis, and a symbol of my position. Without it, the fight to take back my House was going to be a lot harder.
I licked my dry lips. “Can’t you do anything, Killian?”
Killian watched the red spell circle around him—it was about a car length away—with a disinterested look. “I’m sure I’ll figure something out,” he said.
What was that supposed to mean?
“You’re running out of time, Hazel.” Mason brushed off his suitcoat—which had the House Medeis coat of arms on it.
My hands shook with my anger. “How can I trust you to let them go once you have the ring?”
Both Rupert and Killian twisted their necks uncomfortably so they could look back at me. Killian briefly furrowed his brow, but I was more consumed with watching Mason for any sign of treachery.
My fellow wizard smiled. “I’m a wizard of my word. The signet ring for their lives. Besides—I’m not that anxious to kill the Midwest Eminence. It would bring a lot of…complications to my life.”
He meant the rest of the Drake Family would hunt him for sport.
But letting us go would bring similar consequences anyway.
Unless…was he planning to kill all of us, and hope the Drake Family never figured out who had done it? (Or maybe he thought Celestina and the others would assume it was the work of the Night Court? It was, in a way.)
I couldn’t give him the signet ring. It was my only bargaining chip. But I couldn’t save Killian either from the ancient magic. Could I fight Mason and get control over the magic?
No. Whatever the dark, powerful magic was, it was now close enough that it almost brushed against Killian. Another few seconds and it’d be over.
I thought I could hear the ancient magic hiss and pop, but I really hoped that was just my imagination. If it wasn’t, it was possible this spell was strong enough to rival the wards on Tutu’s. And Mason had gotten it from the fae?
“Hazel.” Mason’s voice was sharp. “Stop screwing around and hand the ring over.”
I tightened my hold on the jewelry box and stared at the spell.
There was a way I could save Killian and Rupert without playing Mason’s game. But I’d lose what I had fought so hard for.
They’ll die.
Even as my eyes stung, I lifted my chin and met Mason’s gaze. “You want the signet?”
Mason’s cheek twitched in his irritation. “Yes.”
I flicked the jewelry box open, waiting so he could see the gem-studded ring. And then I tossed it.
The ring box landed inside the circle made by the fae spell; not far away from me, but about as far away from both Mason and the ancient spell as it could get.
“NO!” Mason shouted.
The red magic froze, then streaked across the ground, closing in on the ring.
I sprinted past the red spell, slamming into Killian when I couldn’t stop fast enough. I dug into his coat pocket and grabbed his mint tin, ripping it open as the ancient magic reached the House Medeis signet ring.
Mason had tried to make a run for it, but the magic beat him by a long shot. It bubbled underneath the ring, its ooze growing until it piled above the ring box and snapped shut around it.
A sob caught in my throat, and I dropped a few mints before I smeared one on Killian and a second on Rupert.
The courtyard glowed red while the slime spat hot sparks, and the center of it lit up as if a roaring fire crackled at its center.
“You idiot! What have you done?” Mason shouted.
Killian scooped me up and ran.
I clung to his neck, flinching when a large bubble on the ooze popped, releasing a cloud of black smoke and what felt like a sonic boom that rocked the street block.
“You destroyed the signet ring! How could you!” Mason howled.
Killian set me down safely at the edge of the courtyard, Rupert right behind him. In movements so smooth they could only be the result of years of practice, Killian pulled out his handgun, racked it to load a bullet into the chamber, flicked the safety off, and spun around to face Mason in the time span of an eye blink.
Mason swore and almost tripped as he scrambled backwards, darting behind a stone planter.
Killian still shot at him, riddling the planter with holes.
There was a roar of magic, and the fae spell and ruby red magic that had consumed the signet ring slowly faded.
Rupert ghosted across the courtyard and knelt at the planter. “He’s gone, Your Eminence.” He delicately sniffed the air. “I think he escaped into the Night Court’s realm.”
Killian lowered his gun. “Call Celestina.” He abruptly turned toward me. “Was that really the signet ring that thing destroyed?”
“Yeah.” My voice cracked.
“Why.” Killian didn’t so much ask for an explanation as demand one as he studied me.
I rubbed at my face, fighting back the prickly feeling in my eyes. “I needed something with a stronger magical signature to distract it, or it would have gone for me.”
“You didn’t want to make the trade?”
“Once he had the ring, he would have killed us all,” I said. “It was the only way to save you two.”
Killian didn’t say anything more. He holstered his weapon and looked around.
Across the courtyard Rupert exchanged a hushed conversation over the phone.
“So the Night Court and Mason are allies now,” I glumly said.
“It seems the Night Court is convinced you are a bigger threat than they first thought,” Killian said.
I glanced up at him. “What do you mean?”
Killian shrugged. “If they believed you were beneath their notice, they wouldn’t have approached Mason.”
“You think they were the ones who offered the alliance?”
“Do you think Mason bought that spell from a store—or off the internet?” Killian scoffed.
“No. That was old magic. Really old magic.”
“Fae are almost as bad as vampires at squirreling old things away. They likely provided it to him, knowing it was the only thing strong enough to hold me and force your hand.” Killian wrinkled his forehead.
It was pretty odd, because he looked, I don’t know, concerned? His eyes were tight, and there was a slight downturn to his lips. I would have bet for sure he was furious about being held captive by Mason. So that meant this new alliance was even worse than I thought, or he was worried about something else layered in all of this.
My hands automatically crept to my belt pouch, to check for the jewelry box that was no longer there. My shoulders slumped, and I clamped my eyes shut.
Not here.
“Come on, Hazel.” Killian ambled out of the courtyard, rejoining one of the city streets.
“Where are we going?” I asked as we backtracked in Tutu’s direction.
“To get the car,” Killian said. “And if you try to sit up front, I will stab you.”
I forced a smile and skipped along behind him, pausing only long enough to make sure Rupert—still on the phone—trailed behind us. “Touchy tonight, are we?”
Killian made a noise in the back of his throat. “Your dramatics over sitting next to me are unwanted.”
