Smoke and Mirrors

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Smoke and Mirrors Page 8

by Jess Haines


  “Trust me, Kimberly. If there’s one thing I know, it’s how a dragon thinks.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Kimberly wasn’t too familiar with the area on this side of Central Park despite that her school was right across the street from it and Allegretto’s was only a few blocks away. What little time she’d spent at the park had been in the sprawling, open field known as Sheep’s Meadow and had always been during the day.

  It wasn’t that she had avoided Central Park because of its lingering reputation for being a haven of depravity, where one was as likely to be mugged or shot as looked at. Quite to the contrary, this part of New York was in no way the crime-ridden cesspool it had once been. Developers had been buying up the property around the park, building condos and lofts that sold for tens of millions of dollars. Between the gentrification and the combined efforts to discourage crime in the area courtesy of the NYPD and the Moonwalkers, a local werewolf pack that claimed Central Park as its territory, it was a great deal safer than it had been in the 80s and 90s.

  It was also a given that Others would be crossing through the park at any hour of the day. The Moonwalkers didn’t do a thing to police the foot traffic during the day, but they were a constant presence after the sun went down. There was an unspoken agreement that any Other who wasn’t a Moonwalker didn’t linger in their territory at night. Kimberly sensed the werewolves nearby, following her and Cormac under the cover of darkness on the other side of the street, pacing their movements. She wasn’t too worried, but she did keep glancing at the greenery in the midst of all the towering buildings around them for any visible signs of their shadows. She’d yet to meet a Were and wasn’t sure if these were the circumstances under which she would want to be introduced.

  Nearing Central Park North, Cormac steered her into a dark, narrow alleyway between two towering apartment buildings. She hadn’t been paying much mind to the buildings they were passing since she was more interested at the prospect of spotting a werewolf across the street, but the abrupt change of scenery and encroaching shadows thick as molasses had her digging her heels in.

  Cormac paused when she did, giving her a wry smile that seemed totally incongruous given the menacing dark of that alley.

  “The fear is setting in, isn’t it?” he asked. “I feel your heartbeat accelerating.”

  She swallowed hard and nodded, then pulled back as she thought she spotted movement in the dark at the far end of the alley. Something shifting behind a Dumpster. Was that a flicker of red eyes?

  “That’s one of the wards kicking in, trying to drive you off. It’s nothing but smoke and mirrors—something like your own illusions. You’re safe.”

  She shook her head. “There’s something back there.”

  “Yes. Where we need to go. Close your eyes and take my arm again. Nothing will happen to you. I promise.”

  Though a bit dubious, she did as he said, clinging to his arm and closing her eyes tight. She had to believe that he wouldn’t have taken her this far only to let some boogeyman snatch her and drag her into that soul-sucking darkness at the end of the alley. Even though she kept repeating that silently to herself, every hair on her body was standing at stiff attention, and her muscles kept trying to seize on her before she could take another step.

  With her instincts screaming at her to flee, she barely heard the Word Cormac uttered. Some kind of key to let him past another ward, though she was too frazzled to note what he’d said or what sort of obstacle he’d removed from their path.

  What felt like an eternity later, the formless terror in her gut dissipated so abruptly that she was left gasping for air. Eyes popping open, she stared up at the bright blue and white neon sign for the Black Star Café above the awning of what looked like a perfectly ordinary coffee and pastry shop. Then glanced back over her shoulder. The park was still in view, a pool of light from a street lamp illuminating the opening onto Central Park West just a few yards away.

  They hadn’t gone more than a handful of steps, but she would have sworn they had crossed the length of a football field.

  Shivering from more than the spring chill in the air, she hitched her backpack up higher on her shoulders and then tugged her jacket closed with one hand as Cormac led her inside. She went in first as he held the door for her, and she once again found herself struck immobile with fear. There was a short, pale slip of a girl behind the register who was an absolute powerhouse of elemental energy. So much so that Kimberly didn’t have to rely on her inner sight to see the threads of power gathering around her, and that steady glow was building as she pointed in Kimberly’s direction.

  “Mage! Get out of my store!”

  Every eye in the place turned on Kimberly. Before she could move a muscle, the tiny woman flung her hand in her direction. Kimberly flinched back, but between one blink and the next, Cormac had stepped in front of her and snatched the projectile out of the air. He passed the shiny silver dagger to her, and she fumbled and dropped it in her nervousness. It fell to the floor with a bell-toned clang.

  “She’s with me,” Cormac said, his voice a low, dangerous purr. He was not very broad in the shoulders, but something about the way he held himself made him seem so much bigger than before. An immovable mountain rather than a whipcord blade. “Attack her again and it’s your hide, changeling.”

  The woman slammed her hand down on the counter, and the register gave a metallic bing. “You will not disrespect my wishes, you filthy betrayer. Get out, and take that… that thing with you!”

  “Are you voluntarily revoking your territory’s status as neutral ground?”

  There was a collective intake of breaths as the other patrons in the restaurant focused on the woman. Their shared fear ratcheted up the tension in the room by several notches. Kimberly only managed to catch a glimpse of the mostly human faces before Cormac turned to pull her to stand before him, his hands resting in what she thought was an uncomfortably obvious show of possession on her shoulders. She preferred hiding behind him considering the woman had thrown a dagger at her heart mere seconds earlier.

  The woman came out from around the counter, fists clenched at her sides. Kimberly didn’t mean to stare, but it was obvious that whatever flavor of Other she might be, in her human form she was afflicted with albinism. Her skin and hair—even her eyebrows and eyelashes—were parchment white. Her pallor was made all the more striking by a seamless silver collar around her throat and her white silk clothing. Even her heavy boots were a solid white, polished until they gleamed. She flicked a wrist, and another silver dagger appeared in her hand. She stared at Kimberly with murder in her crystalline blue eyes.

  “Don’t push me, you son of a bitch. The moment that monster makes a move toward me or any of my customers, you can kiss your ass goodbye. I’ll kill you both myself.”

  Kimberly glanced at Cormac over her shoulder, her voice wavering in a shaky stage whisper. “I thought you said this woman was your friend?”

  The lady answered before Cormac could. “If he’s playing with magi, he’s no friend of mine. What the hell are you doing in my café?”

  “She’s in the market for a familiar, Rieva. A dragon.”

  There were a few muted gasps and whispers around the room. The albino, Rieva, stared at the two for a very long moment before slowly, deliberately setting her other dagger on the counter beside her.

  “You’re not known for your sense of humor, Hunter. I really hope you’re joking.”

  Cormac bared his teeth in a semblance of a grin. “It’s no joke. Relax, she’s not going to bind anyone on your turf.”

  “Ha-fucking-ha. Order something or get out.”

  “Two coffees. And bring my friend a dinner menu.”

  Though she continued to glare for a long, tense moment, Rieva soon spun on her heel and busied herself behind the counter. Cormac led Kimberly to an empty table near a rickety-looking stage by the back of the room. As soon as they moved away from the door, half a dozen people got up and fled, disappearing in
to the shadows of the alley.

  Once they were seated, Kimberly let her breath out in a whoosh, and returned some of the wide-eyed stares she was receiving from the patrons who remained. While she had some trouble with elemental spells, she had no difficulties seeing through the illusions a number of the Others in the room were cloaking themselves with.

  Some were true shapeshifters. When they were masquerading as human, she had no way of knowing what they really were, since they were for all intents and purposes in a flesh-and-blood body sculpted and shaped in ways to let them fit in with mundane society. Aside from the glimmer of unnatural energy in their auras, they could have been mistaken for human or low-grade magi. Others already resembled humans enough in form that all they needed was an illusion to cover up the growths, scales, fur, feathers, or other signs of their supernatural nature. The pair of elves by the door, for example, who used illusion to roughen their facial features, hide the tips of their pointed ears, and dim the glamour that might make those susceptible become entranced by their beauty.

  She also spotted a water nymph, a satyr, and even a minotaur. No vampires. No magi. Much to her surprise, she also realized that a couple of the people sitting closest to her and Cormac were mundanes. Normal humans with no hint of magic in their blood. They were staring at her and whispering behind their hands, making notes on a pile of papers they had between them and gesturing excitedly.

  That was when she realized just how eclectic the rest of the place was. Just like the myriad patrons, the furniture was all strange and mismatched, but fit together in a way that bespoke safety and comfort. Easy chairs, rocking chairs, wicker chairs—an odd collection that flanked tables of all heights and sizes, and scattered bookshelves filled with everything from history books to chapbooks of poetry to romance novels. Most everyone was nursing cups of coffee or tea and had books or magazines in their hands instead of tablets, cell phones or laptops.

  The Black Star Café really was a haven.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  “You’re bleeding.”

  Cormac lifted his palm, examining the shallow slice the dagger had made when he caught it. The wound was already closing.

  “So I am. It will be gone in a moment. Nothing to worry about.”

  “Yeah, right,” Rieva said, slapping a couple of menus down on the table, making Kimberly jump. The proprietress then set a small tray with mismatched coffee mugs, a carafe, and a tiny pitcher of fresh cream down between them. The scent of hazelnut wafted from the cup she set down in front of Cormac; despite her attitude, she clearly knew what her customers liked. “Sorry I’m not sorry about the hand. If you’re not going to do me the favor of fucking off, then tell me what kind of cosmic joke made you darken my doorstep.”

  “Rieva, as always, your establishment remains a bastion of civilization and grace in these troubled times.”

  “Spare me, you insensitive prick.”

  “And as eloquent as ever, I see.”

  “I’m only vulgar to short-sighted, obtuse ingrates who clearly don’t know how to take a hint.”

  Kimberly cleared her throat, drawing the irate gaze of Rieva. “Ma’am, I am terribly sorry for my intrusion into your territory. Had I known it would distress you like this, I would never have come.”

  Rieva’s harsh look might have been intimidating, but Kimberly didn’t flinch away. The changeling ran her tongue over her teeth, glanced at Cormac, then let some of the tension ease out of her shoulders. She eyed the bracelet on Kimberly’s wrist before speaking again, her tone gone flat.

  “Nice to see you’re more polite than the company you keep. Honey, you can do much better than this asshole.”

  Cormac watched their exchange like a hawk. His look of warning to Rieva went completely ignored.

  “She isn’t here for you,” he said, making a shooing motion with one hand as he reached for a menu. “Give us a few minutes, will you?”

  Raising her hands in defeat, Rieva turned on her heel and stalked away, leaving them alone.

  Kimberly shook her head and grabbed the other menu, hiding behind the thick tri-fold. She ground out a few words between her teeth, doing her best to focus on the neat script under the dinner section of the menu so she wouldn’t start glaring daggers at Cormac.

  “You might have warned me when you said she hated magi that you meant she hated us with a homicidal passion.”

  “It’s inconsequential. You’re under my protection. It’s all bluster; she won’t try to hurt you again.”

  Unable to concentrate on anything but price tags that made her stomach plunge, she set the menu down with a sigh and reached for one of the mugs of coffee, dumping in a bit of cream and sugar. Even the drink was an extravagance she couldn’t afford, but she wasn’t about to offend Rieva by sending it back, so she figured she might as well enjoy it.

  “I’m not sure if I’m more angry with you or myself right now.” She took a sip of her coffee, and her eyes went wide, pupils dilating. “Whoa, what’s in this?”

  “Rieva brews her drinks with water infused with concentrated ley line energy,” Cormac answered absently, still perusing the menu. “There’s no need to be angry. We’ve done what we set out to do tonight. You were seen with me and your intentions were announced publicly. Now we wait to see who takes the bait. You really should try the American wagyu. It’s out of this world.”

  The description of the specialty steak had sounded amazing, but she’d also seen the triple digit price tag.

  “Thanks, but the coffee is fine.”

  He lowered the menu, his icy blue eyes colder and more implacable than Rieva’s judgmental glare. “You need to eat something.” He paused, then softened his command with a wry smile. “The least you can do to get me back for putting you through this dog and pony show tonight is hit me in the wallet. Go on, get whatever you like. They only recently added the dinner menu here. It would make Rieva feel better if we gave her the business.”

  Though she didn’t have much appetite considering how much adrenaline was still rushing through her veins, she had to agree that she should eat. The coffee—or, more specifically, the power it was infused with—was making her head spin. As off balance as the situation and most of the price tags on the menu made her, she shrugged it off and told Cormac she’d have whatever he was having.

  Rieva soon returned to take their orders. Cormac ordered the steak for himself and Kimberly, along with a slice of the chocolate decadence cake for dessert.

  “You realize I’m doubling your tab with the pain-in-my-ass tax, right?”

  “Whatever makes you happy,” Cormac replied.

  Rieva returned his smile with a sly, toothy grin of her own. “I can’t wait to see how you screw this up, Hunter.” She then turned a slightly more cordial look on Kimberly, taking the menu out of her nerveless fingers. “If you know what’s good for you, the minute you leave here, start running and never look back.”

  Kimberly gave her a wan smile of her own. “I would, but I’m already in this mess up to my neck.”

  “Hey,” Cormac said, frowning.

  Rieva started to turn away, then paused. She slapped the menus against her leg a couple of times before turning back, hands on her hips.

  “I get it when a mage wants a familiar, but why a dragon?” Rieva asked.

  Kimberly scrubbed a hand down her face, then gestured vaguely in what she thought might be the direction of her school. “It’s a long story, but I’m a student at Blackhollow. I can’t graduate or get a job without a familiar, and I don’t have the skillset to summon one. If I can find an earthbound elemental to help me out for a week or two, that’s all I need. My teacher suggested a dragon would solve a lot of problems for me, and she’s the one who thought Cormac could lend me a hand. So here I am, trying not to make an ass out of myself.”

  A snort was startled out of Rieva. She shook her head and then laughed in what sounded like genuine amusement. For the first time, Kimberly noted how lovely the tiny woman’s voice was. Her laught
er was like the chiming of silver bells; clear, ringing, and utterly mesmerizing. That sound would haunt her dreams later, she was sure, and had probably lured more than its fair share of mortals to their doom.

  Once the laughter died out, Rieva placed a fingertip on Kimberly’s chin, tilting her head up to peer into her eyes. Kimberly tried not to blink, figuring the woman was reading her aura and wouldn’t appreciate having the contact cut, even though she hadn’t asked permission. Considering how high-strung the Other was, Kimberly wasn’t about to risk doing anything else that might piss her off.

  Rieva broke eye contact moments later, turning a speculative look in Cormac’s direction even though her words were directed at Kimberly.

  “You’re not half bad for a spark,” Rieva said. “Try not to invest too much of yourself into this hunt. I’m afraid you won’t like the outcome.”

  “No one is going to hurt her. I won’t let them,” Cormac said.

  Rieva’s only response was to level the full force of her stony expression on him before shaking her head in disappointment and gliding away with the menus.

  Once she disappeared behind the swinging door into the kitchen, Cormac added some cream and sugar to his own coffee before taking a deep pull, giving no sign of discomfort at Rieva’s warning. Kimberly braced for the jolt of energy as she sipped her own drink, and tried not to worry too much.

  She was starting to suspect that Cormac knew more than he was telling her, and something about this “hunt” of his wasn’t ringing true. Time would tell, she was sure, but that wasn’t a commodity she had in great supply.

  Studying him over the rim of her coffee cup, she reminded herself that he had promised to help her. Though in the back of her mind a part of her whispered that he hadn’t yet put a price tag on his aid or told her what was in it for him.

  She set down her cup, fingertips toying with the rim as she stared at the vibrations on the surface rather than at her dinner partner. “I wish you’d warn me next time you put me in mortal danger. Am I going to have to worry about monsters following me home tonight? Is my mom in danger? Will someone be waiting to shiv me in the hallways at school tomorrow?”

 

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