Hidden Magic Trilogy Box Set

by Jayne Hawke

  “Was the torch really stolen?” Dean asked.

  Kerry looked at her phone.

  “Yes.”

  “So, they must have had a second team that somehow got in and out without us knowing about it,” I said.

  “Oh, they’re good...” Cade said.

  “I don’t think this is really the time to be admiring our opponents,” Kerry said.

  “I can appreciate someone who gives us a challenge,” Cade said.

  “Search the bodies for any clues,” Ethan said.

  I looked over at the bloody mess of the witch I’d killed. I really didn’t want more witch blood on my hands. The stuff I had was already beginning to tingle, and I had no idea how to stop it. I’d wiped off as much of it as I could on my jeans and a flat-leaved plant I’d found at the edge of the layby.

  Sighing, I went back to the body and gingerly looked through its pockets and found nothing. No keys, no ID, not even a penny.

  “Nada,” Cade said.

  “Same,” Kerry said.

  “Nothing here,” I said.

  Ethan pursed his lips and looked over the mess before us.

  “Kerry, call in the clean-up guys. Tell them we need any clues they have, but anything else they can keep,” Ethan said.

  A white car slowed down as it looked at the mess. The green car had a huge dent in the roof, and the bodies were there for all to see. Ethan glared at the driver of the car, and they quickly sped off. This wasn’t a particularly unusual occurrence. Supernaturals fought all the time. If anyone paused to really look, they’d see Ethan and his pack were cu sith and not dare question them. Cu sith literally got away with murder.

  “The clean-up guys said there was a business card with a swirly symbol on it,” Cade said.

  “A swirly symbol...” Ethan repeated drily.

  I bit back a laugh.

  “I have a photo here; I’ll show you when we get home,” Cade said.

  We were two minutes away from the pack house. The tingling from the blood had thankfully faded before I’d gotten into the car with the others. I felt more awake than I had done, though, as though someone had given me a triple espresso. Chewing on my bottom lip, I made a mental note to look into what that was all about. I needed to understand it, and more importantly, hide it.

  Ethan gestured for Cade to hand him the phone when he got out of the car. He frowned at the image on screen. Cade was right. It was a swirly symbol. There were three interlocking spirals with four loops each, and little offshoots that curled around towards the main body of the spiral.

  “I think that’s an alchemy thing,” Ethan said as he looked at me.

  “You are not bringing Matt into this,” I growled.

  Ethan raised an eyebrow at me.

  “I said no,” I said as I crossed my arms and held my ground.

  “Am I such an awful guy?” he asked.

  “That’s not the point here. Matt deserved a nice quiet, safe life. I am not dragging him into this blood and mayhem,” I said heatedly.

  Ethan’s nostrils flared, but he nodded.

  “Fine. Dean, call Rafe, see what he can tell us about it. I’m taking Kit out for dinner,” Ethan said.

  “Since when?” I asked.

  “Since now,” Ethan said with a grin.

  “I don’t have anything to wear,” I said.

  “You can borrow something of mine, we’re about the same size,” Kerry said, very unhelpfully.

  “What if I have plans?” I challenged Ethan.

  “You don’t,” he said with a smirk.

  He was right. My plan had been to go to the bounty hunter headquarters and work out in the gym for a couple of hours.

  “What if I just don’t want to spend more time with you?”

  Ethan strode up to me and leaned in really close. His lips were almost touching my earlobe. A shiver ran down my spine as goosebumps formed beneath his warm breath.

  “You do,” he whispered huskily.

  Damn him for being right.

  THIRTY-THREE

  It had been a while since I’d worn a dress, and I had no idea where Ethan planned on taking me. I knew that I should have run for the hills, but the idea of spending a little downtime with him really appealed. He was easy to be around, and very nice to look at.

  Kerry opened up her walk-in wardrobe to reveal a huge array of clothes in every colour under the sun.

  “I get bored. Sometimes I want bright, or Boho, or gothic, and I want to have options for whatever mood I’m in,” she said.

  I looked down the left half that held the dresses and skirts. There were so many fabrics, styles, and colours. I had absolutely no idea where to start.

  “He’ll probably take you to Cafe Noire, it’s a high-end place with mood lighting, amazing food, and nice intimate booths,” Kerry said as she began rifling through the dresses.

  “You’ll look amazing in red, but black is classic for a reason. I think we need to highlight that fantastic body while keeping it classy,” she said as she pulled out a number of dresses.

  Ten minutes later and eight dresses were hung up on hooks on the wall.

  “Personally, I think this one would work best,” she said holding up a red dress.

  The fabric was simple with a soft shimmer to it. The blood red worked really well with my colouring and was very striking. The neckline looked as though it would sit just below my collarbone, and I loved the way the skirt part moved. It flowed beautifully.

  “Ok, I’ll try it on,” I said.

  I went into Kerry’s en suite and changed into the dress. It fit as though it had been made for me. Looking in the large mirror hanging over the sink big enough to sit in, I saw that it hugged my curves, and the skirt flowed down along my thighs. I did a little twirl, feeling like a small girl again, and laughed as I saw the way the skirt moved with me, flaring out a little.

  “Now we do your hair and make-up,” Kerry said as she shooed me to her vanity unit.

  “What’s wrong with my hair?” I asked.

  She picked up my practical braid.

  “Seriously?”

  “What’s wrong with it?”

  She rolled her eyes and set about un-braiding it.

  I didn’t remember the last time I’d worn make-up. I thought it might have been when I was a very little girl and I’d played with some of Mum’s make-up. It had been a luxury I hadn’t been able to justify. When I opened my eyes and looked in the mirror with the small white lights dotted around it, I didn’t recognise myself.

  Kerry had put my hair up into a complicated up-do that really brought out my cheek bones, the pale rose lip gloss made my lips look fuller, and my eyes were incredibly striking.

  “Damn...” I said.

  Kerry grinned with a great deal of pride.

  “He won’t be able to keep his hands off you.”

  I was torn between very much wanting that and wanting to keep him at arm’s length. He was the biggest danger in my world, and yet there was something about him. I was drawn to Ethan Hale like a moth to a flame, and I knew there was a very real chance he’d have me burnt to dust.

  Ethan pulled up in front of the beautiful old white building with black beams in his sports car. It was in a part of York into which I hadn’t dared try and step foot before. The buildings there all glittered with spiderwebs of silvery fae magic which guarded them and whatever they held inside. That part of the city was reserved for only the richest of the fae. Non-fae couldn’t pass through the boundaries of the neighbourhood without a strong fae escort.

  Ethan opened my door for me and held out his arm to help me up. I wobbled on the cobblestones in the stilettos I’d borrowed from Kerry, at her insistence. He wrapped his arm around my waist, and I had to lean on him a little to make sure I didn’t stumble and embarrass him in front of the very wealthy sidhe couple that was watching us with a mix of fascination and horror.

  A valet drove the sportscar off to somewhere. I couldn’t imagine trusting someone with something
of that value. Ethan gave a small nod to the bouncer standing outside of the restaurant in black and silver livery. The broad-shouldered fae returned the nod and didn’t acknowledge I existed, which suited me just fine. I was far too concerned with making sure I didn’t make a complete fool of myself to worry about those politics.

  Ethan guided me up a set of three shallow stone steps and through the black wooden door. The interior of the restaurant was softly lit in various shades of gold with soft touches of silver around the bathroom area. It was subtle with white-washed walls and old black furniture. The tables and booths appeared to have been made from railway sleepers or some other old oak. They were likely from something far finer and more expensive than sleepers, but I knew nothing about such things.

  Waiters glided around the room in slate grey suits with tails and white gloves. I swallowed hard, feeling completely out of my depth. Whispers began to race around the room as we passed sidhe couples and groups wearing their finery. Everything about their clothing was wrapped in magic and screamed money. A younger couple with a puka waiter serving them paused their conversation and watched us walk past.

  I wanted to smile and give a small wave to the woman with her hair the colour of crashing waves, but I didn’t dare. Instead, I carefully looked around the room for any signs of a threat. Surely, no one there would be stupid enough to pick a fight?

  THIRTY-FOUR

  Ethan had chosen a booth in the far corner where we’d have some privacy, and for that I was grateful. There was only so long I could handle being stared at before I snapped. He scooted around and sat down next to me as I leaned against the soft leather. The table before us was easily big enough to seat six, but we sat facing what we could see of the room with our thighs pressed against each other.

  A puka waiter came over and placed two menus down in front of us. Even they were fancy. They were leatherbound, with real supple leather in a striking electric blue.

  “Would you like anything to drink?” the puka asked.

  To her credit, she did address us both. Her black cat ears poked out from her tightly done bun, and her slender cat tail hung behind her without so much as a twitch.

  “We’ll have a bottle of Castle Chardonnay ‘86,” Ethan said.

  I guessed that was a wine, but I had no clue beyond that. The puka gave a small nod and walked away without a word.

  Opening the menu, I looked at the elegant script within and had no clue what I was looking at. The starters consisted of things like ‘Franciscan phoenix soup’ and ‘magpie salad’. I knew one thing for sure: I had no interest in eating magpie. They were pretty to look at, but they were at least partly carrion birds, and I didn’t want to eat carrion eater.

  “Would you like a hand?” Ethan asked.

  “Yes, please,” I said with a weak laugh.

  Ethan gave me a warm smile and took the opportunity to lean in closer.

  “Personally, I recommend the phoenix soup. It’s a wonderful squash soup with a dash of flame. Then the wild boar is exquisite here, for the main,” he said.

  “A dash of flame, as in real flame?” I asked.

  “Yes,” he said with that beautiful smile.

  There was no judgment there. He knew this wasn’t my life, and he was being a gentleman about it.

  “I’ve never eaten something with magic in it before,” I said softly.

  “It gives the soup a genuine warmth that will fill you before it flickers, leaving behind the rich and slightly earthy taste of the soup itself.”

  “Ok, I’ll give it a shot, thank you. Does the magpie salad have actual magpie in it...?”

  I had to ask.

  Ethan laughed, a good-humoured delighted laugh that lit up his eyes.

  “No, it’s named for the colours. It’s charred squab on a bed of snow flower leaves.”

  I wrinkled my nose. Pigeon didn’t sound like something I was entirely sold on. They were flying rats, after all.

  “Don’t judge, pigeon is a very rich meat. When done right, it tastes similar to a good steak,” Ethan said.

  The puka waiter returned with the bottle of wine and two slender glasses. She poured into them with practised efficiency and waited for us to order our meals.

  I had to admit, I was quite looking forward to both of my courses. Wild boar sounded really good, and who knew when I’d get to try something like that again? Ethan had ordered the magpie salad. I thought it was more to prove a point than because it was what he really wanted.

  “Tell me about yourself,” I said to him.

  “What would you like to know?”

  “Why painting?”

  He smiled.

  “I like the calming act of capturing something beautiful and adding my own touches to it. With photography, you capture the scene exactly as it is, whereas painting allows me to insert my own desires onto it. I can make it something more... or less.

  “Why bounty hunting?”

  I shrugged.

  “It was about the only thing I could get that would pay the bills.”

  “There are office jobs who I’m sure would be happy to have you; you’re clearly intelligent.”

  “I don’t do well with authority, or routine,” I said wryly.

  “Tell me,” Ethan said with a soft command.

  “I was seventeen. I knew how to fight, but I wanted to keep both Matt and me safe, so I applied for an office admin job. It was entry level, and awful. They had me fetching coffee, copying documents, and getting them lunch. I was fired on the fourth day when I told the boss to stop being a lazy asshole and get his own damn sandwich.”

  Ethan laughed.

  “I’ve never had an office job. I’m not suited to that sort of confinement.”

  “You need to run and hunt,” I teased.

  “Exactly,” he said with that devilish smile.

  I took a sip of the wine and was surprised by how light it was. I’d only had cheap red wines, and they’d been heavy on the tongue with a clear tannin aftertaste. That one danced on my tongue and left a subtle taste of pears and elderflower behind. I could get used to that sort of life.

  “I won’t hurt you, Kit,” Ethan said softly.

  I wasn’t sure what to say to that. It felt as though it had come out of the blue, and I’d been taught not to trust a predator. And yet there I was, practically in his lap as I looked into his eyes and came so close to believing him.

  “We’ll see,” I teased.

  “Well, if you enjoy it rough...”

  I tried to cover my grin and said nothing. I wasn’t supposed to be flirting with him, but damn if those images didn’t make me want to experience the real thing.

  THIRTY-FIVE

  Everything about the meal had been incredible. The wild boar melted in my mouth, the redcurrant jus complimented the rich and slightly gamey meal beautifully. The vegetables had been cooked to perfection so that they crunched and exploded with flavour. Ethan had insisted that I try some of the charred pigeon, and he’d been right. It tasted like a nice steak. He was also right that I needed to open my mind to more interesting foods.

  We shared a brownie and ice-cream for dessert. The brownie was made of the most decadent chocolate with splashes of rainwater in it that added bursts of brilliant freshness that exploded on my tongue. The ice-cream was made with real cream. I savoured every small bite as the smooth and luxurious vanilla coated my tongue, leaving me needing more.

  “I was worried you were going to insist on turning me down,” Ethan said as he opened the door to his car.

  Had I had any sense, I would have done. My curiosity had won out, and while the evening had been amazing, I was falling for him. That was the last thing I needed to be doing.

  “Thank you for a wonderful night,” I said as he got into the car.

  “I hope we can do this again,” he said as he tenderly stroked my cheek.

  I leaned into his touch, feeling the warmth his caress left in its wake.

  “I suppose we’ll see,” I teased.


  I ached to be nearer to him, to enjoy more of this. My head said I needed to run for the hills, but my heart (and other parts) said I needed more of him. He made me feel alive.

  “Do you need to go straight home?” he asked as he turned the car on.

  “No, why?”

  “I’d like to take you somewhere special. Somewhere only my packmates and I know about.”

  “I’d like that.”

  The warmth within me spread. This felt like a big step, one that I hadn’t taken with someone before.

  His phone rang a block away from the restaurant. He answered it quickly at a stop light.

  “No, fine. I said fine.”

  I frowned at him.

  “Everything ok?”

  “I’m sorry, I’ll have to take you home. Business has come up.”

  I placed my hand on his very firm thigh and told myself it was for the best.

  “It happens,” I said.

  He gave me a sad smile and we headed back to my place.

  When we pulled up in front of my house he said with distinct finality, “I’ll walk you to your door.”

  “It’s all of eight feet,” I said with a laugh.

  He grinned at me and got out of the car.

  I laughed and allowed him to put his powerful arm around my waist. His scent wrapped around me, filling my world with fresh cut grass right after a rainstorm.

  When we reached my door, he turned and pulled me close to him, placing his hands on my hips. He leaned in, and I found myself stretching up to meet him as his soft lips approached mine. My heart caught in my throat as I saw the desire in his eyes and felt him hold me tighter against his hard chest. I reached up and sank my fingers into his silky black curls and he gently caressed his lips with mine.

  A tingle ran through me as I dug my fingers deeper and kissed him with a passion I hadn’t felt before. Our lips crashed against each other, and he held me hard against him as he hand moved up my back to caress the back of my neck. Shivers ran through me as he nipped my bottom lip. I wanted, needed more.

  Someone cleared their throat, and we pulled apart. Matt was standing by the gate giving a judgemental look that only a cat was capable of.