Wicked Wish (Dragon's Gift: The Storm Book 1)

by Veronica Douglas

“Also, we got attacked by wind demons and were permanently banned from the library. It’s been a hell of a long day already. I have to wash half a bag of flour out of my hair and”—I examined my filthy skin and clothing—“well, frankly, everywhere.”

  “I wish I could be there to help.”

  I blinked. “What?”

  Damian cleared his throat on the other line. “I meant with the wind demons. In the library. Not the…”

  My cheeks burned, and I glanced at Nix. “Right. So, did you get the spell?”

  “Not quite. I spoke with the mage. We’ll need to go see him once we have the object.”

  “Okay. I’m gonna get a concealment potion from an alchemist in Magic’s Bend. Which is where I am now.” Fates, now I was tripping over words. Maybe I was thinking about him lathering my hair in the shower. Maybe I wasn’t. Okay, I definitely was. “How do we get to Turkey?”

  “We’ll take my jet. I’ll pick you up there.”

  “Holy shit, you have a jet?” Yup. I was literally blurting out whatever came to my mind at this point.

  “Yes.”

  “Neat.”

  There was an awkward pause.

  Damian broke the silence. “I’ll be there as soon as I can. Where are you headed?”

  I repeated the question to Nix, who shot me a wry grin. She had totally been eavesdropping on my half of the conversation. With a wink, she said, “Well, we’re headed to Potions & Pastilles. You can crash at my place tonight…unless you have other plans…”

  I turned back around to conceal another blush. “Potions & Pastilles. I can crash with Nix. Can you pick me up in the morning?”

  “I can pick you up tonight. We should move quickly. I’ll head straight to the airport, and I can be there in around five hours.”

  “Uh…okay.”

  “The jet has a shower and a bed. You can clean up and get some rest while we fly.”

  “Good, because I really am going to need both of those things.”

  “I’ll collect your weekend bag from the hotel and text you an arrival time once we get off the ground.”

  “Sounds like a plan. Cool. Bye.” I hung up abruptly, which was super-awkward.

  Nix was still smiling. “So…this mysterious man is your new guy, huh? Tell me all about him.”

  “It’s not like that.” I gave her a gentle nudge and then a wink. “But holy fates, he has a jet! With a shower! And a bed!”

  “Bow-chika-wow-wow,” Nix teased.

  I blushed deeply and shook my head. “No, no, no. Put that out of your mind. Let’s just get to the alchemist. I need a concealing charm. Like now. I’m turning into a beet.”

  It didn’t take long to get to Potions & Pastilles. Magic’s Bend, Oregon wasn’t nearly as crowded as Magic Side, Chicago. Still, it had grown since I’d been there last, and I didn’t recognize much.

  Potions & Pastilles turned out to be a rather cute bar and coffee shop. Nix said they served excellent pastries in the morning and Cornish pasties at lunch and dinner.

  I would be the judge of that.

  Nix held the door open for me. “Here we go. Get ready for a great drink and what’s almost certain to be a foul-tasting potion.”

  “Let’s start with the drink.”

  The cozy interior was lit by warm lights hanging in mason jars. Several patrons sat at the bar, and a few couples crowded around short, round tables. An impressive selection of whiskey bottles glittered under the lights behind the bar, but I hoped that they also had a few good gins. I needed a cold drink after spending the day in the dusty tomes.

  Nix held the door for me and waved at the bartender. “Hi, Connor!”

  The bartender, caught in the middle of shaking a cocktail, nodded. “Hey, Nix! Be right there.”

  I thought I picked up just a hint of an accent. British?

  His longish dark hair was messy, his grin devastatingly sexy. Broad shoulders pulled at his dark T-shirt, which bore the name of a band I didn’t recognize. He had the beauty of a poet or artist, and my brows shot up.

  I leaned in close to Nix. “What’s his specialty, love potions?”

  She snorted. A girl at the bar arched a brow at me. Whoops. That came out louder than I’d intended. I blushed and hoped Connor hadn’t heard me over the rattling ice.

  To hide my embarrassment, I inspected the paintings on the wall, pictures of fluorescent pink and yellow fish on a neon green background. Each had a little label off to the side. They were, well, horrific.

  “Are these…” I looked at Nix, unsure of how to finish.

  “A favor for a friend,” a man said.

  I turned back. The bartender had come to our end of the bar, and I blushed again. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…”

  “We have a monthly rotation of artists. Only two more weeks on these.” He looked around and shrugged. “At least they add a little color to the place.”

  Nix grabbed him by the arm. “Connor, this is my friend, Nevaeh. We worked together on a couple of projects at the Museum of Magical History. Neve, this is Connor. He makes amazing drinks, coffee, and pastry.”

  Connor chuckled. “Well, any friend of Nix’s is a friend of mine. How about we start with a drink? You two look like you already had a violent run-in with pastry. Why are you covered in flour?”

  “Long story.” Nix sighed. “Neve, what do you want?”

  “Nice to meet you, Connor. Could you make me something with gin? Bartender’s choice?”

  “Sure, let’s see what’s fresh.” He turned back to the bar, picking some leaves from a bunch of herbs and selecting a lemon from a hanging basket.

  Nix indicated the woman who had overheard me talking about Connor's hotness earlier. “Neve, this is Sora, a new friend of ours. Sora, Neve.”

  Sora smelled of lilac, but I couldn’t get any sense of her magic. I was sure she had it, though. Weird.

  “Hi,” I said as I pulled up to the bar.

  “Hi.” She pointed to my white-dusted T-shirt. “Looks like you two have been doing some baking.” She had a mild British accent.

  I shrugged. “I was doing some light reading, actually, but my plans went a-rye.”

  Nothing.

  “Thank goodness it’s happy flour now.”

  Blank stare. Dang it. I was terrible at puns. Rhia was great with them. Well…perhaps not that great, but she used them a lot. And she always laughed at my attempts, no matter how pathetic they were. My stomach sank as I pictured her in magicuffs in the djinn’s palace. Or worse.

  The clink of a glass on the counter pulled me from my reverie, and Connor smiled as I looked up. “Basil smash. Lemons are good this time of year.”

  The translucent yellow cocktail sloshed in a short glass with a sugar rim. Lemon wedges bobbed in the bottom of the glass, floating among muddled bits of basil.

  I took a sip. “It tastes divine.”

  “Thanks. It’s hard to make a bad drink with fresh ingredients.” He was lying, of course. I had been to plenty of hipster bars with drinks made from fresh, organic ingredients that made you want to scrape your tongue off. Connor had talent.

  “Man, I needed this,” I said, and clinked glasses with Nix.

  Connor leaned closer. “I gather there’s something else you need me to make, eh?”

  “Yes! A Cornish pasty,” I quipped. Then, thinking better of it, I said, “Sorry. Nix told me they were great. Actually, I need a potion.”

  He laughed. “Well, you’re in luck. We have pasties ready to go, and I’m closing at eleven tonight. Then I can make your potion. Is that all right?”

  “Yeah, of course. I could sit here and drink these all day.”

  Nix leaned closer. “I recommend the cheese and onion pasty.”

  I looked at Connor. “Two, please.”

  “Make it three,” Sora said.

  “Coming right up.” Connor grinned at Sora, and the warmth in his smile made it immediately evident that they were dating.

  A few minutes later, he brought us t
he half moon–shaped treats that he’d reheated. The flaky, buttery crust contained a savory mixture of cheese and onions that smelled and tasted divine.

  I chewed and swallowed. “These are amazing.”

  Sora nodded. “Connor brought the recipes for these over from Cornwall when he and his sister moved here years ago.”

  The wait gave me some time to catch up with Nix and get to know Sora, who was also cool as hell. The drinks kept coming, and the conversation flowed easily—just the break I needed. I couldn’t help but worry about Rhia, though.

  Finally, Connor closed up. “Ready to get started on that potion?”

  “Ready.” I stood, and Nix joined me.

  Sora waved us on. “I’ll wait out here.”

  Connor led us through the narrow kitchen to a crowded workshop in the back. The tables and shelves were stacked with hundreds of bottles of ingredients and tools of all varieties. While Nix and I tucked ourselves out of the way against the wall, Connor lit the fire under a small cauldron that sat on the table. “Nix said you needed a concealment charm.”

  “Two, if you can manage it. My friend and I got sideways with a djinn. He sent some air demons to hunt me down at the library of Alexandria. They were invisible, hence the flour.”

  “Hmmm. Djinn are bad news. Insanely powerful. I’ll make the potion stronger than normal, but it won’t last as long. Perhaps just a few days.”

  I gave a thumbs-up. “Okay, that would be great. We really appreciate it.”

  “I’ll need a bit of your hair. It helps to make the potion specific to you.”

  He handed me tiny scissors, which I passed to Nix. “Make me look fabulous. I’ve been needing a new look.”

  She laughed and snipped off a few strands.

  I beamed and patted my hair. “I love it already. Very fresh.”

  “Do you have anything belonging to your colleague?” Connor asked.

  I thought for a second, then pulled out Damian’s business card.

  He shrugged. “That’s not quite what I need, but worth a shot.”

  “Sorry.”

  “No matter. We’ll make do.” Connor took my hair and set it aside in a little silver dish. Then he began rummaging through the cabinets, pulling out various ingredients and weighing them. Soon, he had the cauldron bubbling. The combination of things in the pot gave off an awful stench.

  Connor saw my expression. “Yeah. Potion making isn’t always glamorous. Also, this is why we have a laboratory separate from the kitchen.”

  It was well after midnight by the time the potion was done. Connor put it into two vials, then handed me one.

  I frowned. “Is it gonna be bad?”

  He poured a shot of peppermint schnapps and passed it over. “Yes. You’ll need a chaser.”

  Oh, fates.

  I took the vial and slugged it back. “Oh, that is awful!” I said, trying not to gag, then slammed the chaser. “Ugh. Also, not a good combo.”

  Nix patted me on the back. I shook my head and coughed, acutely missing the taste of the pasties. “Man, this is going on my Yelp review. ‘Friendly atmosphere. Great bar. Amazing pasties. Avoid the bottled worm poop.’”

  Connor laughed. “Please don’t. People would just start ordering it out of sheer curiosity.”

  I thanked Connor a dozen times in leaving. He gave me a few pasties for the flight—which was how I knew he was a divinely good person—and Nix drove me to the airport. I was exhausted, still covered in flour, and a bit nauseous.

  Nix looked at me as we got out. “Are you sure you don’t want to shower at my place?”

  “No, it’s okay. Damian is bringing me fresh clothes. And the jet has a shower.”

  “So, are you two…you know, a thing?”

  “Not a chance.” I said it too quickly, and it sounded like I was covering. “I mean, there’s something definitely there. But…” I paused, unsure if it was my place to reveal that he was one of the Fallen. “I don’t trust him yet. He’s a criminal. The sort I help lock up. If the Order found out I was consorting with him, they’d fire me. Or worse…”

  “Hmm. Well, maybe you should give it a spin, anyway,” she said thoughtfully, then winked. “I mean, it’s going to be a long flight.”

  “Cut it out!” I stretched my arms. “Hell, it is going to be a long flight, isn’t it? Twelve hours? Sixteen hours? I don’t even know. Do we have layovers?”

  “Keep an open mind,” Nix teased. “There are only so many in-flight movies you can watch.”

  Damian’s flight arrived a short time later, and security escorted us out to the sleek, white jet parked in the middle of the tarmac. MALEK was emblazoned on its side in giant black letters. Damn. Part of me hadn’t believed it was real.

  Damian stood on the stairs, waiting. Damn. Part of me hadn’t believed he was real. Connor was handsome, but this guy was my type. Dark. Gorgeous. Full of riddles and contradictions, like a good mystery novel.

  My heart spun up like a jet engine.

  Then it spun right back down as I remembered that I looked like I had just lost The Great British Baking Show. Oh, fates.

  Damian pretended not to notice. “Ready?”

  “Yup. Here I am. Totally prepared for adventure.” I stopped being an idiot and remembered my companion. “This is my friend, Nix, by the way. She got me into the library and helped fight off the demons.”

  Damian shook her hand, and something flashed across his face. “We’re in your debt. Thank you.”

  “Sure! Glad I could help. Good luck with part two.” Her voice was cheerful, but I could tell something about her expression was troubled, though she hid it well.

  Nix gave me one last hug before I headed up the stairway. She squeezed me tightly and whispered in my ear. “Neve, I think I was wrong. Be wary of this man.”

  “What? Why?”

  “I just…have a feeling. I can’t tell you why. Just be careful. Keep your wits about you when you’re with him.”

  Well, if that didn’t just kill the mood. What put her off? His magic had a dark aura. Did she sense he was one of the Fallen? Or was it something else?

  “I will.” I squeezed her hands. “You take care, too.”

  With some trepidation, I turned to the jet and slowly climbed the stairs to the open door, where Damian was waiting. I could smell his magic and see his aura about him, green and red.

  I remembered the dream I had of him on the Jewel after our battle with the ice devils. Damian’s aura had been green and red then, too. Right before it changed…right before—

  I gave an involuntary shudder and shook my head.

  16

  On the plane, I leaned back in the white leather recliner, savoring the moment. I’d never been in a private jet before.

  A stewardess in a black pantsuit served me a glass of lemon water and a bowl of salted almonds. “Can I get you anything to drink?” she asked.

  “A gin and tonic, please.” Boy, I could get used to this. She quickly returned with my cocktail, and I gave it a test sip. Damn, it was good.

  At the front of the plane, Damian spoke to the captain. Did he always travel like this? When he finished, he took the seat across from me. “You look like you’ve had a long day.”

  “Wind demons. Invisible wind demons. Speaking of which…” I reached into my bag and pulled out the vial of Connor’s concealment charm. “Drink this. The wind demons were sent by the djinn. This will hopefully prevent a repeat of today.”

  Damian took the vial. “I thought it was possible, but how’d they get into the library?”

  I shrugged. “I guess they slipped through security.”

  He popped the cork off and smelled the potion. “You drank this?”

  I nodded.

  He shot it back and grimaced.

  I leaned forward. “What do you think it tastes like?”

  “I have no idea.” He grabbed the water from my table and chugged it down.

  “Okay, let me put this into your mind.” I waited until he had
recovered. “Cucumbers and earthworms. Right?”

  Damian blanched.

  “Not that I’ve ever eaten worms before, but it’s how I imagine them to taste,” I added.

  He narrowed his eyes and watched me closely. “You are a strange one, Neve.”

  I shrugged.

  “There’s a shower in the aft cabin, if you want to clean up.” He handed me my overnighter from the hotel.

  I caught a glance of my disheveled form in the reflection on the glass divider behind him.

  Holy moly.

  I nonchalantly rubbed a smudge of flour on my forehead, desperately hoping it would come off.

  Damian smiled. “Did he send the Pillsbury Doughboy after you, too?”

  Another joke?

  We had reached cruising altitude, so I grabbed my bag and headed into the cabin at the back. The room was small but comfortable. It was like an airport sleeping pod but more tastefully decorated, and almost filled by a double bed. Hmm.

  The shower felt heavenly, and I definitely needed to wash my hair. My scalp still ached after the wind demon had dragged me around like a rag doll. Running my fingers through my damp hair, I peered out the small window, but there was nothing to see but moonlit clouds. I gazed down at the tattoo on my right arm, tracing the intricate pattern with my fingers. It was beautiful. Had it grown? I frowned. Maybe a little.

  I recalled what Nix had said at the airport and shivered. Be wary of this man.

  Once out of the shower, I pulled on a clean pair of skinny blue jeans and a cream-colored sweater to ward off the chilly air. I stepped out and saw Damian writing in a journal. He looked up and closed it. “Hungry?”

  “Always.”

  He gestured to the other side of the plane, where the stewardess had prepared a table for two with a white tablecloth and flameless flickering candles. The cabin lights dimmed as I took a seat, and my gaze met his. “So, how’d your visit with the mage go?” I said, breaking the silence.

  “Fine actually. Matthias—the mage—will help us with the binding spell once we have the object.”

  “Great. How do you know him?”

  Mixed emotions played across Damian’s eyes for a brief moment. “We worked together, long ago, but we’ve mostly drifted apart. Different objectives. Different ways of seeing the world.”